Switch4life584
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Joined: 7/17/2016
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Your Sub... With OTHER tendencies.
Written by Switch4life584
I'm seated in a teal colored booth at the local diner, alone and my fingers antsy. I'm waiting to hear from you. The diner itself is doing an impressively brisk afternoon business with plenty of locals chattering over their meals and the sound of each other. A familiar alto voice calls my name over the din and the curvy owner slides herself into the vacant side of my little blue and white cubical.
It's Noela, an old friend. She starts muttering something about just wanting to say hi and something to do with her 'peeps'. Someone calls for her and my eyes are suddenly torn from the hands on my watch, my brain viciously transplanted from its swirling anxieties to the sound and location of that particular vocalization. It's... him. I refuse to acknowledge that he even has a name. I could say it in my mind if I had wanted to, but I tell myself that it wasn't worth the energy to do so.
My eyes lock onto him with an accusatory intensity. How dare he even breathe. His tired hazel eyes meet mine briefly before deferring to the instinctive head nod that males do when they greet another. He carries the aura of a dog caught by its owner, his tail tucked submissively between his legs. I can feel my nostrils flair wide in disgust. Noela makes a small sound of embarrassment and excuses herself, inviting me to call her sometime. She rises and pushes him ahead of her, away from me. As he passes my booth his scent bowls through me like a juggernaut in slow motion. His odor is very much akin to what I imagine Hell to smell like. Damp mold, dry tobacco, filth and empty sadness.
I return to my idle dance, checking my phone, glancing at my time piece and refreshing my Facebook page between sips of warming ice water. I am doing it. I have done possibly the most insane thing I could think of at this point in my young life. I have given myself to another, namely you as an in home submissive. Well it is still in negotiation, but it will be the overall ending result if we both get our ways. The fact that you're meeting me here today speaks for the seriousness of the situation. You have left your household behind in the steamy southern air while you come to the north's shady conifer forests. I received your message earlier today about your flight landing safely. I'm here at this busy restaurant anxiously waiting for you to show yourself. The time goes by but drags ever so miserably. Suddenly the aroma of decay fills my nostrils again. I look up to see him again, standing in front of my booth. This agitates me.
He meets my gaze this time and doesn't break it til a waiter squeezes past him with a tray piled high of dirty plates and glasses. He is quite tall yet from the good amount of bitter disappointment that I bare towards him and his air of cowardice, he seems impossibly small.
“Sit,” I command him. He stands a bit longer then folds himself awkwardly into the space facing me. A deep moment of silence; it seems as if it has enveloped us in a cruel bubble. My mouth can no longer remain clamped shut and gains control over me. Scathingly I belittle him, my eyes burning twin holes into what little is left of his soul.
"You look like shit, you know that? You smell like shit too. So how have you been?"
He opens his lips to murmur something, those full, pink lips placed so alluringly on his tanned face. My eyes are instantly drawn to them and my mind blocks out his words. I feel my mouth move in response, but my concentration is so focused I don't even know what I'm saying in return. This kind of interaction continues as my eyes lock on to one feature and then another, comparing and judging each. Suddenly another startling familiar voice enters the auditory void. It says my name with a strong air of authority. Pop goes the bubble of isolation. It's you.
I look up to the side suddenly and there you stand, slightly aged and portly compared to the thin, foul smelling, failed Adonis seated across from me in the booth. However despite the marked difference in age and looks, you carry an intoxicating dignity and unseen power that the much younger male could never match. Instantly I stand up and offer you my seat, verbally stating that I was just conversing with an old friend. I turn and halfheartedly indicate that I will carry on the conversation with him later, practically willing him with my mind to remove himself from the booth and situation. I toss out to him that I have my old number and that his cousin, Noela, could give it to him. He leaves and this time your own new scent covers his and I seat myself in his spot with only the slightest shivers of disgust.
My mind is alight with joy at your presence and my body abuzz as your hand touches mine from across the table. You call me your kitten and suddenly the tawny cougar inside me that was so riled and agitated calms down and exposes her belly. I offer you my proffered menu and my youthful excitement can be felt by those around us as I ask about your flight and other such benign details of your trip. A waitress approaches and waits patiently for your order.
After you've eaten and had a bit of a rest, our talk having tapered off into what I certainly felt was a comfortable silence, we head off in your rental car to the cabin I reserved for us. A former employer of mine was kind to allow me its use and I had worked my magic hard to have it clean and ready for the fun we would have. I had wanted it special for its view of of the lake. The crashing waves and glorious sunset could be seen perfectly, even in the dead of winter.
Once we arrive and get your luggage inside, I strip for you as you close the front door. Standing still as you step forward to inspect my body from all sides, I try not to winch at your hands groping or slapping at me here and there as you please. I am stiff from sudden nerves and you can plainly read it on me. You back away suavely, sit down on a white kitchen chair and request that I get you a glass of water.
Doing so, I then stand awkwardly in the middle of the small room, arms down at my sides, palms facing outward in a willing posture, unsure of what I should do. With a sense of warmth in your voice, you have me sit at your feet and rest my head on your lap. I had pleaded with you days before that I wasn't sure I could handle the formality that you are used to right off the bat and it is soothing to my anxiety that you seem to be considering this. Your hand runs through my hair and toys with my throat as we talk for awhile, sharing stories from our pasts that hadn't been shared before. After a jovial retelling of your first round in the military, you give me my first true command for the night.
On my knees you say, to put my hands behind my back and to open my pathetic slutty mouth. You rise and push the chair back, undoing your belt and letting your pants drop to the floor. I have been longing for this for so long. I've wanted so much to do this, to have your hard cock in my mouth and show you what I take so much pride in doing. I instinctively want to reach out and grasp the base of your shaft with one hand and cradle your shaven balls with the other, but you have instructed me to do otherwise. My brows furrow in a vague disappointment, but I remind myself wisely that a good pet behaves its master.
It is difficult at first, being face fucked by you. I am initially so worried when you suddenly take over that you will gouge yourself on my teeth. The repetitive slamming into my uvula and tonsils is another more worrisome issue as I have never dealt with it before. I urgently want to stop, to catch my breath and stretch my aching back and burning legs, but your hands are planted firmly on either slide of my head. Panic starts to settle in. I manage to make some sounds of fear and try to pull back, but you only dig your fingers deeper into my scalp, yanking my hair to keep me in place. Your pace quickens and a moan creeps in amongst the steady stream of quiet verbal abuse that still to this point confuses me. My mind starts to wander down the road of what is to come next and then your words say it all, visceral and deep.
“I'm going to cum you little bitch, keep your mouth open wide and swallow it.”
You slam your cock into my mouth, my face pressed flush with your abdomen and my body seizes almost violently as my taste buds feel the warm spurts land on my tongue. My mind is screaming again as it relives my awful first non-consensual experience again in vivid full color. A different man, a different dick. A frightening incident to be sure. But you know this. You hold your position, your cock in my mouth for several seconds, then slowly pull out, replacing it instead with one of your big hands under my chin, bringing my horrified face up to meet your stern darkened gaze.
“Swallow.” Already my eyes are thick with tears and slowly I do as you command. Instantly I feel my body crumble down in a sobbing heap at your feet. I can't help it. You kneel to pet my back and tell me that I did a good job. Your words don't really reach me over my own sobbing, but I do register when you walk away from me.
Minutes later as I'm lying naked on the hardwood kitchen floor staring emptily at the dark wood ceiling, your voice calls out from the bedroom, gentle, consoling, calling for your sweet kitten. Obeying your call I get up and walk as if zombified to the bedroom where you sit on the simply made queen bed. You run your hands over my body and whisper soothing words to me. The only words that I fully comprehend are the ones you want me to hear the most. Slowly my mental numbness melts away under your hands.
“On the bed pet.”
Obediently I step away and lay down on my stomach across the bed. I turn my head to the side and watch you pick up a riding crop that had been resting behind you. I turn my head again to look away but notice that its a shiny red, my own crop. So you found it on the dresser where I left it. My body tenses as I wait for the first strike. Days and days of negotiating my heart and soul out were being put to the test now.
Whack! That first sting. Whack! The second. Whack! The third one. Whack! The fourth one is the special one that means my adrenaline is kicking in and the following blows start feeling a little more pleasurable. Blow after blow they came and then an unexpected cease fire. The stinging on my ass and thighs is both a fiery lattice work and a deeper sub-dermal burn. It's been so long since my body has had the chance to enjoy this brand of pain. Your hands roughly fondle my ass, spreading it wide and smacking it several times before a new toy is then felt on my flesh. A shiver runs up my spine as you drag the sturdy leather flogger sensually up and down my back. I can feel the flat strips of hide and my body begins to relax some. This isn't a punishment here, this is a treat.
By the time you are done with me, I have been pushed to the brink of tolerance and then some. My chest is heaving as I sit up and try to compose myself. My back is surely bruised and covered in hot welts, but I love the thud of the leather. You sit yourself next to me and capture my lips with yours. I submit almost drunkenly as your tongue enters my mouth and my stomach flips as your hand clamps onto my breast, firm enough to further arouse me. I moan my poor heart out as you tweak my nipples and slowly torture me with your mouth. My pussy is sopping and my juices are starting to make my thighs slippery. I beg you for my release, pleading, even as the pain from my ass and back assault me. You stand up off the bed and reach for something under it. I see the white head of the tool and immediately I know I will get my wish and then some. No one can win against the mighty Hitachi magic wand. At least, I never have.
....
Later after feeling for sure that I'd never be able to walk again from so many stupidly intense orgasms and passing out, I awake, unaware that I'd even fallen asleep. My wrists are bound together above my head and secured to the Amish made headboard. I feel rope around both my ankles, my legs spread wide apart, tethered to the frame of the bed below. The room is dark, but for a lilac scented candle burning on the dresser across the room. We hadn't discussed wax play so I felt a sigh of relief, images of hot wax being dripped on my poor genitals only half forming in my mind. I look around but can't find you. I close my eyes and listen for noise. Only the sound detectable is coming from the clock in the kitchen. I lay there and slowly wonder how long I will have to wait. What if I have to use the bathroom? Then I hear the cabin door quietly open, two sets of foot steps and mumbled talking follow.
I simply mew aloud, wanting you to know that your little kitten is awake. You come into the room almost as a mistake and smile at me, exclaiming that you have forgotten to blindfold me. I giggle and chide you playfully as you turn back to me from the dresser and tie the black swath of fabric over my eyes. I don't mind the scratchy comforter agitating my sore skin as I squirm against it in excitement. Your hand runs down my thigh and the rest of my leg, fingers hooking softly under my foot. I jerk a little and laugh.
Softly the second set of foot steps enters the room. I am curious and try to trace the newcomer's whereabouts while trying to keep track of you. A shift in the air happens and suddenly I can smell it. Mingled with the sweet, soothing lilac is Hell fire. My body goes taunt, my smile destroyed and replaced with a set grimace, angry eyes hidden under cloth. A hand timidly touches the skin just above my right knee. I know instantly that it isn't yours. Nothing about you is shy or unsure. My brain still knows those callouses. My voice comes out strong yet ice cold.
"No Master. He has no right to touch me."
I don't expect the sharp slap to my face. It is your hand that's left it's heavy sting. You tell me I'm being imprudent, that if I keep it up I will be punished more. My mind isn't thinking clearly and my mouth runs off again. SMACK! You grab at one of my nipples and give it a cruel twist, causing me to cry out like a wounded cat. The other set of hands casually stroke both my legs now, the finger tips so familiar with their rough, thickened skin. Shivers run straight to my exposed pussy under this duel assault to my senses.
Suddenly he speaks. He asks you seemingly for the hundredth time if what he is about to do is consensual. His voice is a deep tenor. The force in your voice when you tell him to, no, order him to eat my pussy is paradoxically intoxicating to me. A warm, flat tongue does its first lap up and then down over both of my holes and clit. Pure and slow electric pleasure. But the cougar inside me awakens and lets out a primal scream. I can't submit to prey. I cannot! You are my sir, but he, was always my prey.
Out of nowhere I start to struggle and hurl every insult I can at whomever will take them. The ropes pull tighter and I can feel the skin under them getting roughed up and bruised by the coarse natural texture. I have completely lost your location in the room and all I can feel is his long beard and mouth clamped over my groin, his arms wrapped tight around my thighs, just the same as the old days. The fight against this makes my arousal worse and his ever so experienced tongue drags my cunt closer to the brutally beautiful edge. Like an alligator that tries to escape capture, I suddenly lay still and quiet after this currently fruitless struggle, letting my energy collect again. His grip around my thighs loosens and I allow my breathing to calm. I hear your heavy breath off to the side of the room and it takes more than I have in me to fight the orgasm and the moans that come flooding with it. My brain remembers last second to make my mouth work out a whispered 'thank you sir' like I must say every time I cum as we discussed.
I hear your voice, closer to me now, whisper 'good girl.'
The mouth still ceaselessly working on my clit creates in me a sensation that suddenly draws a fervent panic. I whimper to you pleadingly and you sternly command me to speak up. I tell you bluntly that I have to pee. My words are met simply with a huff.
"Please, please let me go to the bathroom. I will be good. I will submit to whatever else you want."
I can almost hear the smile in your voice as you reply. My heart sinks. If I have to go, then I must go where I lay. I struggle to think of what to do. And for the first time, I say his name. I have to. I'm not ready for what would come to be otherwise. I plead to Adam, a low throaty growl in my voice, still unwilling to fully submit. But he keeps licking, seemingly unconcerned and in his own world. Your voice hovers in my ear hauntingly.
"Piss yourself you filthy fucking bitch. Piss right in your pretty boy's fucking mouth." My body goes limp and I let the held back tears leave the corners of my eyes as I submit to your orders, relaxing my pelvic muscles shamefully.
I get a slap to my face out of nowhere, the hardest yet and you berate me for pissing in your bed as the warm liquid is still pooling around my ass . I am to be punished for being the stupid slut that I am. Seconds later my dark blindfold is removed, as is the mouth that continued to lap at my cunt as I pissed myself. After the darkness, the meager light of the candle is almost blinding.
I have but a moment before you are shoving a black rubber ball gag in my mouth and forcing me to lift my head so you may fasten the leather straps. Next you reveal a pair of clover nipple clamps and make a good show of putting them on me, explaining how you had purchased them just for me. The pain goes straight to my tired clit and I can't help but groan unhappily as you give my breasts a good shake with the connecting chain. I close my eyes for a second to swallow the pain before I open them again and address the movement going on between my legs. He shifts himself to his knees and places his grimy piss soaked hand on my pubic mound, applying pressure in a circular motion almost as if bored. I glare at him and turn my eyes angrily back to you. Your gaze bores sinisterly into me as you pull a rubber horse hair flogger from your back pocket and give my former lover another order.
"Fuck the slut."
.....
I open my eyes to pain. It's all I can feel. Not the good type of pain. I finish my mental body check, look around and find that I'm alone. It takes me a moment to realize that my arms and legs are free. I shakily move my limbs and slowly stand myself up. Looking down at my chest in the candle light, I can see the red welts, hot like a sidewalk in July. My breasts and nipples feel as if they on fire and further below, the words cum, whore, slut and cunt are scribbled crudely in red sharpie. Something inside me stirs, the cougar, now freed from the trap. I notice the rope that was used to restrain me on the floor by the foot of the bed and pick up a shorter piece up, wrapping its scratchy length around my forearm a couple times before exiting the bedroom and slowly making my way through the living room to the front door of the cabin.
I stop to look through a window in the kitchen. There's a bonfire going on out on the deck overlooking the beach below. The sky is black but for the majestic speckling of stars. Crickets are chirping nearby and I hear the ghost of your voice, telling some story and what seem like spaces for his responses. My aching muscles twitch at the vague shape of my prey in the fire light. Amongst the sharp crackling of the firewood as it burns, memories come flooding back to me of our past together and then of what I had been forced to endure tonight. It inspires me to act on my instincts. I take my chance in opening the screen door, the metal handle cold to my touch. If you notice me, I'll simply lose the rope and come sit at your feet as your obedient submissive, however luck is in my favor and no sign of your awareness is given. My hunt can begun.
The trees in front of the cabin and to the side of the deck offer cover for my somewhat clumsy advancement. You may see my pale body sneaking from shadow to shadow in the fire light, but he won't, not from his seat. I can smell him on me. It drives my very being wild with rage and feeds my normally repressed primal nature. I remember him fucking me, somehow pulling my ass up enough off the piss saturated bedding to ram into my pussy while on his knees. His thick cock filling me up almost nostalgically as your wicked rubber flogger bit at my stomach and chest was heaven and hell all at once. My thighs chafe from his cum leaking out of me as I move in the darkness. In my mind I can hear the predator roaring in rebellion. I will never submit to prey.
I'm close now, naked and hidden behind the last of the trees, only about two yards away from him. I feel the sweat on my brow, my legs are tensed and ready to leap out and carry me to my goal. My arms are ready to grab and secure the kill, a length of the rope pulled tight between my clenched hands.
I must attack now! The rope between my outstretched arms flies obediently over his head and I pull back quickly like a praying mantis, tightening it around his long neck. He lets out a yelp and scrabbles at the heavy braided strand with his fingers, but he moves slower than expected. His scent is clouded with the skunk stench of ganja. Good, my cougar purrs to me. Easier to kill.
You rise from your chair as he starts to struggle harder, panic settling into him, fear for his life unmistakable in his demeanor. He manages to get up to his feet from his seat, but it only serves in making it easier for me to bring him down again. You call out for me to stop, but I'm not listening. I am like a lioness suffocating her prey, teeth locked tight over the jugular. His movements start to slow and he almost drowsily drops to the ground under me. Only when I feel your hand buried in my thick hair and yanking at my scalp with an angry seriousness do I let up on on the rope around his neck. I look up at you with the twisted pride of a young hunter having brought down its first kill. I do not register your seriousness and playfully ask if you would aid me in dragging and tying him to the bed.
....
He starts to stir, but quickly finds that he can't move. My mind is elated by this observation. It's now he who is tied spread eagle to the piss soaked bed. I gaze upon him hungrily, the cougar anticipating its first bite. You my Sir were most kind and allowed me to pick through your collection of torture implements for items that called out to me. You patiently instructed me on my knot work with as much love as a father might show for his son while working on a car engine. I felt proud as you critiqued my skills, finding less and less to pick over as I progressed with my plan. He is heavily gagged, his jaw painfully extended and his head half covered with the blindfold, but not for long. I sidle up beside him confidently and ever so gently tug the blindfold off of his dazed face, his hazel eyes blinking open and then his pupils growing delightfully wide with confusion and I would dare say, fear.
I blow a bit of warm air into his ear and playfully sashay back to the foot of the bed, my naked red and bruised marked ass swaying like the spoiled kitten I often pretend to be yet also like the proud predator that I have become. I turn and blow him a kiss and a wink before mounting the bed, revealing to him the sizable purple strap on secured over my groin. He tries to struggle in vain, to scream for help or mercy, but I know that both actions pain him. Sadly for him, your kitten isn't feeling terribly merciful tonight. This game of cat and mouse will not end with the two animals walking away as friends. No viral YouTube video ending tonight.
I flip open the cap on the tube of Astro glide and squeeze a good bit out, rubbing it onto the strap on, a deadly grin taking shape on my lips as I imagine myself having a real cock to stroke and fuck with. A voice in my head cattily speaks up, mentioning my naturally high testosterone levels and it makes me chuckle softly. After dwelling in my moment of self indulgence, I turn my attention to him and use what's left of the lube on my fingers to draw a random design sloppily on his exposed forehead. He makes eye contact after trying to turn his head from my touch. Those beautiful orbs seemingly roll in the storm of emotions that he is trying to convey all at once. I look away and my hand shoots out to his tightly bound cock, the rope on and around it forcing it to swell and grow shiny in the harsh bright light of the room. No subtle ambiance for him. I smack it hard, a muffled shriek and jolt of pain emanating from him. Seeing and hearing it made my inner predator shudder in pleasure.
Sardonically I lick my lips and gently caress his hip before digging my claws into his flesh and dragging them inwards and down the fold of his inner leg. His whimper is like heaven's forbidden nectar sliding down my throat. I let out a small moan myself, a heavy purr behind my teeth as I let my hand stroll further down between his spread legs. In the old days I would have licked his cock, asshole and taint for hours just to hear the wonderful sounds he'd make. Not now. The old days are long gone I remind myself and I am claiming my kill this night in a way that I never could before.
A bit more lube on my strap on and I'm ready to repay him the favor from earlier this night. I stop for a moment, taking in the sight of him, his head turned to the side, jaw clamped tight and eyes clenched shut, brows knitted together as he anticipated the coming rape. A creak in the floorboards suddenly reminds me that I have an audience. You are standing patiently against the wall, simply watching me with an air of polite interest and a smile on your face. You look so much younger when you like like that.
"Join me." I purr. “Please Daddy.” You smile at me and run your hand over my ass as you cross the room to grab a flogger. “Oh use the rubber horse hair please Sir.” I say giddily before none too gently starting to enter my prey's filthy ass.
His strained screaming and groaning are delicious to my ears. They are also decidedly more erotic when muffled by the oversize ball gag. When we are collectively finished with him, his ass is bloody and raw, his torso a twisted canvas of pretty red welts and blue bruises. He is also plainly unconscious. I am climbing out of my strapon's harness when you quietly express your concerns for my actions this night. What was done to him was most certainly rape under any circumstance. You seem worried that he may go to the police. I chuckle some and point out to you as I casually begin to search his clothing while gathering it from the floor, that the actions done to myself was rape as well and punishable just the same. I bite on my lower lip when I realized how the tone of my voice sounded, but there was no comeback from you.
I dig my hand into one of the many pants pockets in his jeans and find a tattered duct tape wallet. I open the flimsy thing and proceed to pull out its contents. His driver's license, food card, a couple crumpled dollar bills and a tiny plastic bag like those beads would come in are all I find. I empty the bag into my upturned hand and study the contents carefully. A couple white pills and four acid tabs. My problem of him going to the police is quickly solved and ever so easily. I smile and turn my body to face you, the drugs visible on my hand. I set them aside and concentrate on getting him dressed before I slip both the tabs and the two pills in his mouth and under his tongue to dissolve. With your generous assistance, I pack his still unconscious body into your vehicle. It takes me only twenty minutes of watchful driving to drop him off unceremoniously at his cousin's doorstep and return uneventfully to the cabin.
As I pull up and park, you are seated yet again out on the deck in front of the fire, its flames now burning low. I turn the car off and lock it. Silently I make my way over, approach you and seat myself at your feet, facing the flickering orange light. I feel your hand pat my head gently and I know inside that you have seen both my submissive side and my inner predator and accepted myself and my duel natures as they are. I exhale in relief and lean heavily against you, the cougar inside me at peace for now, weary and ready to rest. Minutes pass by in a cozy quietness, nothing but the repetitive crashing waves down on the beach and occasional crackling of the fire, the crickets retired for the night.
I feel you move to stand up and quickly I do the same, shifting out of the way to give you more room. You order me to turn away from you and bend over, grabbing my legs with my hands. My abused pussy is swollen and sore, but the sudden excitement from your swift command and the knowledge of what will happen makes it easier to bear as you mess with the button and zipper of your pants. My eyes roll in my head and a soft moan escapes my lips as your hard cock pushes its way slowly in for the first time. Something in me realizes at that very moment as I struggle to keep my balance against your pleasantly lazy thrusts, that not only have I made my decision and want to keep you, but that you wish to keep me as well. Suddenly my mind sparks ablaze and I almost randomly shout out the one question that I should have asked the moment I realized that it was my ex lover's hand on my knee.
“How the hell did you find him Sir?” You give another lazy thrust into my wet hole and chuckle.
“Noela.” Another thrust, slightly harder this time.
“You went through my phone?!”
“You're mine now. I may if I choose. Besides, you were so cute when you were sleeping, I didn't want to wake you.” Another two hard thrusts, almost causing me to lose my balance.
“I'm a submissive, not a slave! I still have some rights damn it!” Suddenly a heavy blow falls onto my ass check.
“Shut up brat.”
“Eat dick!” Another loud SMACK against my already sore cheek.
“Oh you will.”
-The End.
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