Under Control: A BDSM Love Story
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
9,953
Reviews:
48
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
9,953
Reviews:
48
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Prologue: On My Knees
Personal Disclaimer: This story depicts sexual and emotional acts that are sado-masochistic in nature. Though much of the material is meant to reflect certain aspects of the BDSM lifestyle, as the author -- and a frequent participant in BDSM activities -- I would like to stress that how the characters go about it in this story does not necessarily mirror the true nature of the lifestyle. Although it is frequently misconstrued as one-sided pleasure, non-consensual, or even rape, BDSM in its essence is in fact a lifestyle that requires trust and consent from both (or more) persons involved. It is not something politicians do with call girls. BDSM is shared by many different people from all walks of life, strangers and loving couples alike. It is merely in this story that it is portrayed in a non-consensual way from the point-of-view of the submissive. Please read with an open mind.
Author's Note: This story carries a lot of meaning to me, not simply because I'm writing it but because I have a deep love for the characters in this story. The events are not based on factual events; they're from my messed-up fantasies with the help of pop culture and porn. I am in the process of writing the story, and since I frequently get writer's block I can't guarantee that I will finish the story any time soon. In fact, it will probably take me years to finish. Constructive criticism and plot suggestions are very welcome. Thank you.
On your knees is not such a bad position once you know it’s exactly where you belong.
And belong there I most certainly did. My job required it, in more than one way. But I suppose the explanation comes later.
A sharp noise resounds in the small room, followed by an equally sharp sting on my skin.
“Say it,” he growls out to me, causing my already shaking knees to tremble even more. But not in fear, oh no. Never in fear, not after all this time.
My breath comes in quick, tremulous little gasps, and obediently I respond, “Four, sir. Thank you, may I have another?” God, do I ever want another.
“What are you, Ms. Jones?” he asks, his voice deep and dangerous, melting me to the core. Then, because I don’t respond right away, he grips my hair in his fist and pulls so that my head is forced back. I cannot see him, as he is behind me. It is thrilling to feel his breath on my neck, causing my skin to break out in goosebumps. With his lips close to my ear, he growls, “Say it” once more.
“I’m your slut,” I groan, and he releases my hair. Again the room is filled with a sharp sound. Pain ripples through my body and I know already I will not be able to sit right for quite a while. “Five, sir. Thank you, may I have another?” Only five and I’m growing weak. Twenty-five more to go.
I hear a breath of laughter from him as his hand remains in contact with my bare and reddening bottom. Softly his fingers trace in circles on my assaulted cheek, teasing the flesh lightly. Still, I brace myself for what is to come.
“I’ll give you another,” he murmurs sensually. “And you’ll like it. Won’t you, my little slut?”
“Yes, sir,” I say breathlessly.
His hand pulls awat.
SMACK.
I moan loudly, the heat between my legs nearly matching the heat on my skin. “Th- thank you, sir. May I have another?”
This continues for what feels to be hours, and yet not long enough. The contact ends all to quickly, and in spite of the burning on my behind and the hoarseness of my voice, I beg for more of him. Something. Anything. Anything from my Master.
He comes around to stand in front of me so that I may look up at him. I need no signal other than the look he gives me, and immediately I unzip his slacks and gently pull out his manhood, not even taking the time to give it a reverent glance before taking it fully into my mouth. I had taken my punishment, it was time to be greedy. And oh, it is worth it. I moan, suck, lick, nibble, tickle, and deep-throat for all I’m worth. The end result is a mouth full of his wonderful come, which I gulp down very happily.
He looks down at me, his face a mix between amusement, lust, and something else. Love, perhaps? I don’t give it a second thought as he places his hand on top of my head, signaling he is pleased with me. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, sir,” I whisper, my hoarse voice having given way. “Thank you so much.”
He smiles placidly, and I know he’s captured me for life. And I don’t mind it at all.
“Good girl.”
Author's Note: This story carries a lot of meaning to me, not simply because I'm writing it but because I have a deep love for the characters in this story. The events are not based on factual events; they're from my messed-up fantasies with the help of pop culture and porn. I am in the process of writing the story, and since I frequently get writer's block I can't guarantee that I will finish the story any time soon. In fact, it will probably take me years to finish. Constructive criticism and plot suggestions are very welcome. Thank you.
On your knees is not such a bad position once you know it’s exactly where you belong.
And belong there I most certainly did. My job required it, in more than one way. But I suppose the explanation comes later.
A sharp noise resounds in the small room, followed by an equally sharp sting on my skin.
“Say it,” he growls out to me, causing my already shaking knees to tremble even more. But not in fear, oh no. Never in fear, not after all this time.
My breath comes in quick, tremulous little gasps, and obediently I respond, “Four, sir. Thank you, may I have another?” God, do I ever want another.
“What are you, Ms. Jones?” he asks, his voice deep and dangerous, melting me to the core. Then, because I don’t respond right away, he grips my hair in his fist and pulls so that my head is forced back. I cannot see him, as he is behind me. It is thrilling to feel his breath on my neck, causing my skin to break out in goosebumps. With his lips close to my ear, he growls, “Say it” once more.
“I’m your slut,” I groan, and he releases my hair. Again the room is filled with a sharp sound. Pain ripples through my body and I know already I will not be able to sit right for quite a while. “Five, sir. Thank you, may I have another?” Only five and I’m growing weak. Twenty-five more to go.
I hear a breath of laughter from him as his hand remains in contact with my bare and reddening bottom. Softly his fingers trace in circles on my assaulted cheek, teasing the flesh lightly. Still, I brace myself for what is to come.
“I’ll give you another,” he murmurs sensually. “And you’ll like it. Won’t you, my little slut?”
“Yes, sir,” I say breathlessly.
His hand pulls awat.
SMACK.
I moan loudly, the heat between my legs nearly matching the heat on my skin. “Th- thank you, sir. May I have another?”
This continues for what feels to be hours, and yet not long enough. The contact ends all to quickly, and in spite of the burning on my behind and the hoarseness of my voice, I beg for more of him. Something. Anything. Anything from my Master.
He comes around to stand in front of me so that I may look up at him. I need no signal other than the look he gives me, and immediately I unzip his slacks and gently pull out his manhood, not even taking the time to give it a reverent glance before taking it fully into my mouth. I had taken my punishment, it was time to be greedy. And oh, it is worth it. I moan, suck, lick, nibble, tickle, and deep-throat for all I’m worth. The end result is a mouth full of his wonderful come, which I gulp down very happily.
He looks down at me, his face a mix between amusement, lust, and something else. Love, perhaps? I don’t give it a second thought as he places his hand on top of my head, signaling he is pleased with me. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, sir,” I whisper, my hoarse voice having given way. “Thank you so much.”
He smiles placidly, and I know he’s captured me for life. And I don’t mind it at all.
“Good girl.”