Owned

I was sent up to the room to wait for him. Ordered to be naked in position. And so I was, kneeling on all fours on the bed, legs apart, open and inviting.

He came up behind me and secured a collar around my neck. Snapped a leash onto the collar and pulled it back tight lifting my head high. Wanted to check his purchase. Ran his hands over my body, probing my intimate places. Professed himself satisfied with me. That I would do.

Warned me to be obedient. My hesitance in responding earned me a sharp slap across the face and I whimpered in pain. He yanked my collar tight pulling me against him. Still I didn't know what he looked like. Tried to be brave as he whipped me. Tried to be obedient and take it.

Once I was sufficiently marked he mounted me from behind. Fucked my pussy and then my ass. Hard and uncompromising. I cried as he took me, took ownership of me, had his pleasure. Then left me, crying face down on the bed.

Mr Shine, Mr Mine.

A Public Lesson

The first time I played with Mr Zest he dominated me so easily it scared me. We played at our local club and he immediately set about getting into my head. Once he had my head I was powerless.

He blindfolded and pushed me against the wall and roughly pinched and probed me. Fingers touching me everywhere. I was so turned on I was ashamed.

Then ordered me to kneel in front of him, hands behind my back. Made me spread my legs apart til they hurt and it was an effort to stay in position. Twisted my nipples til I cried out. Then slapped my breasts hard for complaining.

Whipped my pussy with his crop, unrelenting until I tried to move out of position. Soft caresseses all over my body, disarming me before returning to pinching, whipping and probing.

Stripped me fully and tied me to the frame spread eagled. Legs stretched open and whipped again on my pussy as I wriggled in vain. Then roped my knees to hold me still. No respite from the probing hands, pinching my clit and the folds of my pussy.

Undid my blindfold so I could see the onlookers witnessing my shame. Made me watch as he trailed a hunting knife over my body, grazing my nipples enjoying my terror.

Flogged my back, legs and ass. Then my breasts. Each stroke burning me and heightening my pain, increasing my pleasure. Fucked me roughly with his fingers, laughed as I begged for more.
Teased me for my slutty behaviour.

Untied me to teach me a more serious lesson...

Molesting Pollyanna

One of my playmates, Mr Rain, enjoys molesting me. He loves for me to lie there and let him do whatever he wants. We usually tie it up in some form of roleplay. I'll be his niece or pupil or a reformatory girl under his control.

There's never any physical struggle involved, I'm incapable of refusing him. He has absolute power over me. A struggle on my part would just earn me another beating. So I have to sit on his knee and let him put his hands in my knickers. Let him stroke me in my most intimate places, put his fingers inside me.

I get to a very powerful state of near genuine fear during these roleplay sessions. And sometimes I can't help whimpering and often I'm in tears. Truly feeling the emotions of that poor, abused girl.

And even though I know better, it always gets to a point where I try to pull away or I say no or beg him to stop. He doesn't like this. He wants me to a good little girl, not making any fuss. And then he'll take his belt off and strap me until I'm lying there sobbing and broken. Willing to let him continue unhindered.

Although I find that sitting or lying there passively is one thing, I can just about keep my anxiety in check. However, it's so much harder if I have to strip for him. Having to stand before him as I take my clothes off, having him ogle my body. Then standing in front of him, hands on my head, legs apart while he inspects me.

But even worse is having to participate by touching him. There's no hiding place from what's happening. No avoiding the cock hardening in my hand. Hoping that he'll be happy just to be touched, dreading what might come next...

A damn good thrashing

Mr Storm is one of my semi-regular play partners. Apart from our play sessions we've nothing at all in common. I like the rough and detached way we play. Neither of us overly worries about the other. Replying on a mutual understanding of what we both need. We don't even bother with much roleplay. It's all about a serious thrashing. I love getting it. He loves giving it to me.

He likes for me to hold still and take my beatings quietly. My acceptance of what he is doing is part of the thrill for him. He likes knowing he can do what he wants to me. He likes trying to break me. Loves to make me cry. Our sessions are always severe and the marks often last for days. Sometimes I question playing with him. But the intoxicating intensity we reach always draws me back.

I don't expect sympathy or mercy and he doesn't show it. He will continue, each time increasingly sadistic, not stopping unless I safeword.

Before our last session he instructed me to insert my metal anal beads in my ass before I left my house. He knows this is hard for me. I'm never in the zone unless I'm there with him. Having to put the beads in myself, in my own house, feels dirty and wrong. Feelings he's very good at invoking.

With difficulty I comply, feeling uncomfortably full as I travel to his house. The compliance only serves to rise my defiance. I know it will be a tough session and I resolve to not let him break me. He loves the challenge I offer.

On entering his house I'm immediately told to strip and put on the clothes he has for me. This is the usual process. Him picking clothes I hate wearing and enjoying my sulking as I have to don them. I like pretty, girly clothes. He insists on leather and rubber. Black and unflattering. Exposing my pussy, ass and tits. And impossibly high heels. I can't walk in them and he laughs as I stumble around. I feel the degradation keenly

Bit by bit he's stripping away my defences.

When I'm ready he pushes me over the back of the couch. Rough fingers check my compliance with his orders. He finds the anal beads and tugs the string roughly and I can't help whimpering. Then laughs as his fingers find my already wet pussy, teasing me for being such a slut.

He spanks me hard and fast with his hand, making me feel the beads even more and pushing his free fingers into my pussy. I can't resist grinding myself onto them, acting like the shameful slut he wants me to be. Without warning he withdraws his fingers and quickly pulls the beads from my ass, making me moan in pain and shock.

'Stand up, hands on head, legs apart' he orders. 'I think we'll start with a nice caning before I take you downstairs and show you what you really deserve.'

I know what that means, being suspended with my hands tied to the ceiling, barely able to reach the floor. Then he'll take out his clamps and whips and beat me until I scream. Then he'll gag me, so he can beat me harder. And when he's satisfied with my surrender he'll untie me so I can kneel before him with my warm mouth and thank him for his attentions.

But for now a caning awaits. I look up as he stands in front of me. Two canes in his hands. His latest trick is to apply two at a time, One on my front thighs, the other on the back, or one on each side. Starting off slow until he builds harder and faster, until I can't stay still and get punished with hard, fiery strokes that bring tears to my eyes.

And the despair will set in, knowing we've only just begun.