Submission Games

Another tale that was written for my friend, the petite Irish “Mistress” Rosie. She’s one of my regular “customers” when it comes to requests and I usually have a blast with them. I certainly had with this particular piece.


Everything happened so quickly and unexpectedly. Beautiful red-haired Rose Donnelly was walking home alone after being everyone’s savior once again and put in some overtime to keep the business going when she was surprised by a man that jumped out of nowhere, a shadowy figure dressed in black and clearly driven by nefarious intentions. Chloroform is one of the oldest subduing weapons in existence, but still quite effective, and when the laced cloth ransacked her nostrils, the haziness was swift and the collapse almost instantaneous. No one saw her being dragged into the back of a nearby parked van that, soon afterward, drove off to a destination unknown.

 

* * *

An hour elapsed or maybe a little more before Rose opened her eyes once more to be confronted by the abrupt change of scenery, as well as her new helpless situation. It was very dark, but what little she could ascertain of her surroundings, gave the impression of a large and somewhat moist basement. She was tied to a chair firmly latched to the floor, hard leather straps covering most of her upper limbs. Her skirt had been torn off by what looked like teeth marks and her sweaty legs were open wide, kept in position by cold chains connected to the adjacent walls.

Soft music began playing from behind her the moment she woke up and then she noticed her captor, smoking a cigarette next to a concrete pillar that had seen better days. He was still semi-shrouded by obscurity, although the hint of fire and the billowing smoke sometimes allowed for a glimpse of his features, most especially the mocking, hungry eyes that clearly wanted to devour her spirit.

Before she even had the chance to say a word, he got rid of the nicotine stick and waltzed in the direction of a switch to her left. Upon flipping it, a circle of large projectors forced the dimness to recede. The sudden brightness made Rose’s eyes burn and she blinked repeatedly to avoid going blind. Then, after she had finally adjusted to the new extreme conditions, she heard his melodious voice for the first time:

“The light is good….” He said. “I offer it to you. Take it!”

Uncertain of what he meant, Rose slightly tilted her head to observe the projectors and the strong lamps that brought forth its radiance. They certainly weren’t of the regular kind, for there were ripples and strange fleeting patterns emanating from them, impressions of nebulous lines, fractals and green and purple clockwise and counterclockwise spirals, all of them so very beautiful to behold…. so relaxing and, at the same time, so arousing…. quite effortlessly, her body began to tingle against her will.

“You’ve been sick for a while, now, but the light will heal you. It will make everything easier for you, you’ll see….” the man continued as he came in closer, a grinning smile now perfectly visible.

Rose objected to it all, but only in her mind. Her exterior self was silenced, pupils fixed in the succession of whirls and twirls, lips dry above yet getting wet underneath. There was bound to be a meaning to it all, but was that really noteworthy when every fiber of her being was being put to the test of an ever-growing orgasmic prelude, an unforeseen treachery that felt so exquisitely wonderful?

The independent woman in her told her that forcing the restraints and trying to break free was the proper course of action. However, the new persona that was rising, fuelled by the mesmerizing brightness and the escalating arousal, whispered and cooed in- between a torrent of invisible caresses on her breasts, thighs and slightly aching pussy. “Mindless horny slut”, it repeated over and over again, the power of the sentence growing, an expansion that contracted everything else to a microscopic insignificance.

Already half adrift in the dreamy, docile role that was expected of her, Rose sighed deeply as the kidnapper stepped into the circle of light and ripped her panties with ecstatic violence. He was naked from the waist down, his red, tumescent manhood pointing at her like a harpoon. She was the whale, the cow, the bitch, the whimpering and needy toy wishing to play hard until the night was done.

“This is what you’ve always wanted, my little whore!” he declared as he pierced her, thunderously, rattling the chains that bound her. Rose’s entire body arched to receive his pulsating cock, the mark of his dominance and her newly discovered submission. The lights kept on glowing, the spirals phasing in and out and finally, she moaned in utter rapture as the descent into unconsciousness began once more.

 

* * *

It was already morning when the last remnants of trance-induced bliss left her completely. Rose yawned and got up from the chair, no longer restrained and ready to resume her normal routine. Down on the floor in front of her, naked and humbled, was the bodily husk of the vile perpetrator, his mind once again wiped clean and ready for another year of service.

Gently rubbing her red-painted toenails on his half-parted lips, she commanded:

“Kiss, William!”

“Yes, Mistress.” he meekly replied. “I hope my performance last night pleased you, Mistress.”

“Very much, I have to admit,” she responded, truthfully as she looked at the semen stains on the floor. Being in charge was her primary nature, but there were times when letting go of her superiority was extremely gratifying. “I wasn’t expecting you last night, pet. That made things much more…. exciting!

He was clearly satisfied to hear that as his submissive lips tasted her perfect feet.

“It’s always a pleasure to serve you, Mistress.”

“I know….” She purred, as her right hand lifted his head to face her emerald eyes. “When you’re done with my feet, you’ll be cleaning this mess with your tongue, isn’t that so?”

“As you command”, William droned and sank once more under her everlasting might.

 

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