Submit! – free erotic fiction from Velvet Tripp

I don’t know how long I’d been there. Waiting. He’d not be far away. He could be standing right in front of me. I squirmed at the thought. As much as I could anyway, bound as I was to the chair. His, I mean my dom’s, special chair. Blindfold and gag deprived me of two of my senses. Headphones played a track that blocked out sound from the room. Taste, sight and hearing impaired. Let me tell you, that really does sharpen your remaining senses. Touch. And smell.

All I could smell at this moment was the freshness of the night air drifting through the open window. There would be no-one around for miles. That’s why he chose this place. No one can hear you scream. As for touch. That’s what I was waiting for. That’s what I wanted. But he knew that. He knew I was impatient. It amused him to watch me, knowing I would only be hotter if he left me to endure anticipation for a while.

I felt something then. A shiver over my skin. Did he touch me? Has a bird flown in? I can’t hear anything but the music. Strange, Germanic type stuff. They’re singing about ripping clothes off. Hmm. That happened a while ago, now. I think the disk is called Eevil Young Flesh. That would be a good description of me, then.

I feel warmth to my left. He’s here. My heart races. My pussy dampens. I know he’s going to be a bastard tonight. Because he wants me to call him that. When he’s earned it. He considers it a compliment. And he knows I’ll resist using that title because it’s what he wants me to do. I can’t help it. That’s how I am. He’s decided I need to learn the true meaning of submissive. One lesson at a time. I know tonight will be a challenge for me. To submit. To do as I’m told. To take what I’m given.

His hand cups my crotch. ‘Good,’ he says, flatly. ‘You’ve shaved. I like easy access, slut.’

My heart is pounding now. My crotch even more damp. I shiver as I feel cold steel on my thigh. Then the other thigh. A knife. That’s my thong gone. I wondered why I’d been allowed to keep it on before he bound me with 30 feet of rope. Legs splayed by the special chair, arms firmly bound to the armrests, breasts bound until they throbbed. Then left to ‘contemplate my fate’. Now I meet it.

‘Now, I know you’ve had to wait, so I’m not going to mess you around any longer. I promised you would learn to call me by my favourite name and that I would earn it. Here we go. I start to earn now.’

Searing pain shot through my left nipple. I squealed through the gag, found it hard to catch my breath. A clamp. The really bad ones, I think. The pair connected by a chain… He waited moments for me to relax, and then my right… I gasped, almost screamed. But the rebel in me didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

‘So that’s easy for you, eh, pain slut?’

I nodded. Stupid.

‘In that case, I think we’ll have to make you work harder. I can’t have you slacking, can’t have you being wilful. I control you now.’

I bit down on the gag, unsure of his next move. My nipples throbbed, transmitting their protests down to my clit, where somehow it got a pleasure signal, and my now exposed pussy was positively wet. Then my nipples exploded. Again. Bastard! He has some little weights to hang off the chain of the clamps he especially liked to use when torturing me. I could feel that weight on them, pulling, tugging and making every nerve ending in them scream. But I still didn’t. My clit stubbornly refused to accept what my nipples were telling it. I began to drip. I was breathing hard; absorbing the pain, letting it change my chemistry, flood me with endorphins.

My minds started to float away. I was high. He was getting off on me getting high. I could now smell his muskiness and the leather of his trousers. Leather, pain, pleasure and imagination. Oh, yes, I was sky high.

Suddenly he whisked the headphones off me.

‘Now slut, you have two choices. A or B. Which do you choose, I wonder? Raise a finger on your left hand for A, a finger on your left for B.’ I sat, paralysed, high, confused. I heard him step away. The leather of his trousers as he moved. A or B? But I didn’t know what those meant. What choice was that? Then I got it. That was the point. Whatever I chose, He chose. He decided what happens next. Clever fuck! He just want to make me submit!

Smack! I flinched, the clamps swayed, tugged. I squealed through the gag. He chuckled evilly. A flogger. On the inside of my thigh. I should have raised that finger… Smack. Now I screamed. I dripped. I lifted my left finger. OK. A. I do submit. I do.

I waited. He moved away. Fuck! What had I done? What now? My heart pumped blood and adrenaline and endorphins round me so fast my head was spinning. My pussy drooling.

‘You should know I’ve got a quick call to make, then you’ll have my full attention again,’ he said abruptly. ‘Hi, yes, she’ll be ready for you in about ten minutes. Ok, yes, I’ll make sure of that, don’t worry.’

If I could have gulped, cried out to be released, I might have. I still had my hand signal, but I wasn’t going there. Pride wouldn’t let me. I wouldn’t let me. I wanted this. I got this. I’ll see it through.

I hear him moving things, some clicking kind of sound. Then he untied me, deftly, dragged me by the collar across the room, juices trickling down my thigh as I walked. He carefully lowered me to my knees and cuffed my wrists, pushed me forward. I found myself face forward on a sofa or bed of some sort, ass exposed, legs as far apart as he could push them. The clamps bit my nipples. He bit my ass. He ran his finger over my soaking, exposed clit.

‘Huh. You are a pain slut, aren’t you. My little pain slut. I can do what I like when I like, can’t I?’

I nodded. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back. ‘Now the clamps. You know they have to come off, don’t you?’ I did. He took them off, one at a time. Blood flooded back into squeezed and tender flesh, nerve endings flashed into overdrive and I yelled through that gag. Did I yell!

Then a loud buzzing sound. Not like a vibrator, more like a chainsaw. There wasn’t time to think. Suddenly that sound made contact with my pussy. It was a vibrator. It felt more like a jackhammer. My instinct was to try and wriggle away. But he had me pinned. My pussy went straight into rocket-assisted launch mode. I gasped and gasped and gasped. I creamed and screamed. I came so hard and so fast my brain went stratospheric. My pussy exploded over and over. He carried on. I couldn’t come down. The only way was up. I screamed again. I came again, tears escaping from behind the mask, and again, forced to orgasm until I didn’t know which way was up.

It stopped. I stopped. He stopped. I collapsed, flying; waves of incredible ecstasy still rippling through me as he stroked my hair now, kissed my back.

‘It’s not over. You know that, don’t you?’

I was incapable of responding. He just laughed. He took out the gag. My jaw trembled.

He got up and left me draped over what I could now see was a leather covered storage box all padded out. I heard him open the door. ‘Come in, Janine’.

My lover. He’d invited my female lover over. The bastards had planned it all. I smelled her perfume as she came closer. ‘Now, my pet, now we both have you. Now you’re ready for us,’ she whispered. I turned to him, smiled shakily and said ‘Fucking bastard, thank you.’

***

More from Velvet? There’s a short story in a different vein, Tropical Paradise, in a short collection of five stories and simultaneously in a full-length 20-story collection, both by Xcite. And more to come soon from the same publisher…

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