They walked into the office, and I knew I was in trouble. They were 2 of Master’s friends, and I knew well enough that when they came around, Master wasn’t going to be far behind. I thought about trying to get up and run, but I knew that would only make matters worse. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve punishment, but for Master to send them by my job, even so close to the end of the day, meant it was bad. They bound me to the chair I was seated in, and then proceeded to slowly cut my clothes off, shirt, then bra, then skirt. They left my panties whole, and I wondered if that was at Master’s bidding. When Master walked in, the scowl on his face told me I’d done fucked up. His crop was in his right hand, and I even noticed that it wasn’t his favorite crop – it was the well-worn, well-used crop that he liked to punish his slaves with. He didn’t just walk over to me, either. He walked to my boss’s office, and knocked on the door. After a few minutes of them talking behind that door, they both walked out. The humiliation of my boss seeing me all but naked compounded the situation. Master explained that my boss had called the house and left a voicemail with a complaint about my forgetting something when I had left the day before. It was important, and I’d apologized to my boss when he’d approached me about it this morning. I sat there and looked directly at Master’s feet, knowing anything else was unacceptable. He took that crop and swung it, hitting me across the shoulders. He smacked each breast, the inside and outside of each thigh, and right across my tummy. I was welted everywhere. I knew I’d never do that again…
Tag: bondage and submission
Abducted
I woke up somewhere strange with my arms tied behind my back. Completely naked aside from my panties, I wiggled and writhed trying to break free from my restraints, or at least to sit up right to get a better look at my surroundings. I was on a bed in someone’s home, I could tell. And my legs were not tied! This was good, maybe I could escape. My stirring was heard, though, as a man walked in. His face was covered by his hat and bandana and he was holding a strange metal contraption in his hand. Cowering, I asked to be set free. He scoffed before grabbing me by the throat and pushing me back onto the bed. Holding me down, he attached the metal contraption to my head, putting it in my mouth. My jaw was locked in place, wide open! I couldn’t shut it no matter how hard I tried! Tears streamed down my face as he yanked me back up by my hair and stood behind me as he pinched and twisted my nipples. He gave me no mercy, no matter how hard I cried and yelped. I fell to my knees, the pain overwhelming me. Now in front of me, he firmly gripped each side of my head and began to fuck my throat. Gagging, I fought for air as he sunk into my face, balls deep. His cock was so huge, my throat could barely squeeze it in. When he was about to finish, he smacked me hard. I fell onto the ground as he straddled me and jerked each drop onto my face and into my mouth which was still being forced to stay open.
Bondage and Submission at Work
Bondage and submission is my life. I am always giving in and getting tied up, especially at work. My boss and Master is old, but he does love tying me up at work. He was feeling extra frisky yesterday. I only go to the office a couple days a week now. My work schedule just depends on what kind of case he is working. He is a lawyer close to full retirement, which is why I have been supplementing my income being a phone sex submissive. I messed up some legal briefs. I filed them incorrectly. I am not allowed to make mistakes. For a simple fixable clerical error, I got some soft bondage of my tits. Well soft only in the way he tied up my boobs. The torture my whore tits, as he likes to call them, received was something very different from soft. He pinched the nipples so hard they bled. That was not enough pain for the mood he was in. He got out his lighter so he could burn them too. Have you ever smelled burning flesh? It is awful. When it is your own flesh, it is worse. The pain and smell combined is nauseating. I knew not to vomit or complain or cry. It was tough to do, but if I had, the torture would have been far worse. Master has never been big into torture sex except when it comes to my tits. The way he views it, he bought me my tits, so he can do whatever he wants to them. I will take nipple and breast torture any day over being used as a punching bag. Some of the more modern Masters, whom I have encountered, on and off the phone, enjoy going Mike Tyson on me. In their eyes, I’m not a woman, just a worthless submissive whore.