by Nicola Diaz
“This is just a little break, you know.” Bruce whispered to me as I arched my back underneath the weight of his body. “I’m going to have to chain you u again once we’re finished.” He continued to thrust his big cock inside of me and I cried out because it felt so amazing. I didn’t want to think if those chains, so I pretended not to hear what he said. Instead, I ran my fingernails down his back and pulled him harder against me. He was sweating, and I could feel every inch of his hardness swell up inside of my pussy. Just when I thought that it would be too much pleasure to handle, he slowed down.
It was getting cold inside the mansion, and I needed his body against mine to keep me warm. I wrapped my ankles around his legs and his stomach pressed down on mine. He started to move again rhythmically inside me until my cries became faster and louder. I was reaching an orgasm and I didn’t want him to slow down until I came. My body felt so sensual and voluptuous, and my mind was focused on the physical pleasure I was receiving.
Just then, I felt the rising of the wave inside my pussy. I was wet and hot, and I knew that it would be an intense orgasm if Bruce continued to penetrate me with as much force as he started with. I closed my eyes and then it became too much to contain. I opened my mouth and let out a resounding moan as one, two, then three orgasms rose and fell, cascading like ripples in a lake. It was a sensation that I had never experienced with as much intensity before, and I was in awe that it had happened.
Bruce reached an orgasm shortly after, and then we both fell back on the bed. I knew that he had more torture planned for me, but in that one quiet moment, the two of us simply savored the delicious aftermath, in perfect and utter silence. I closed my eyes and thought back to the night at the club when I had picked Bruce’s pocket. Maybe I had made the right choice, after all.
THE END
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Enslave Me!
(Victorian Punishment, 1st time BDSM,
Fireplay, Voyeur, Backdoor Domination)
A Dark Fantasy
I stood in the cold, dim court-room, certain that I would find a way out of the mess that I had found myself in. I had always been able to find my way out of troublesome situations, and I assumed that this time would be no different. I watched patiently as my attorney shuffled through his paper-work, preparing for his final statement in the case. I hoped that he would come up with the right words to express my innocence in the case.
Bruce stood on the opposite side of the court-room, and I bristled very time I saw him turn and speak to his attorney. I wanted to know what they were plotting against me, but it was impossible to hear what was being said. I took a deep breath and decided that if my attorney did the best job he could, then there was nothing else that I could do. I had to simply let the chips fall where they would, and accept whatever verdict that was given.
The judge slammed his gavel down in one final demanding order. He had made up his mind, and for the crime of stealing Bruce’s business idea, I would be dealt out a severe punishment. It came as sort of a surprise. I knew that Bruce was a wealthy business-man, and I knew that he had sold a lot of his business ideas to other clients for a hefty price. Yet I wasn’t expecting him to turn so severely on me for my wrongdoings. Victorian England was not the place for punishments. I had heard of people accepting harsh punishments, and I didn’t want to be one of them.
My jaw dropped when I heard the judge’s order. Surely he wasn’t serious. I stood back, my hands folded in front of me, and hung down my head. The order called for slavery. It wasn’t unusual for such an order to be created as a means for paying off student loan debt, or even for paying a fine. Yet for stealing a business idea? And one that wasn’t even that unique, anyway? I was both shocked and appalled. My cunning and stealthy ways failed me this time, and I wasn’t exactly sure how to react.
The judge declared that in one hour, I would either have to scrape up enough money to pay back the expense of stealing Bruce’s idea threefold, or I would be enslaved under Bruce’s specific precepts. They must have known that this would put me in an immovable situation. I had nowhere near the amount of financial assets that they required, and I had nobody to procure them from, either. I felt at once hopeless and frightened.
As I stood in the court-room, watching a light rain fall over the dark and gloomy streets of England, I tried to think of how this would play out. Where would I be taken? How would I be able to endure the severity of the punishment? I hoped that they would have some mercy on me as a first-time convict, but I couldn’t place all of my hope in such a thought. I would have to be as well-prepared for whatever they instituted as possible. I would have to move forward and be strong about whatever happened.
As the judge gathered his papers and stepped down from the platform, I stood in silence. Bruce and his attorney shook hands and then started to walk out of the court-room. I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath. Then I slowly approached them. “Bruce. Excuse me.” I batted my eyelashes and flicked my long blond hair over my shoulders. I knew that men found me stunningly attractive, so I assumed I could win over Bruce’s mercy.
My attorney stood to the side, knowing that I was both fearful and frustrated with the verdict. He watched silently as I stood next to Bruce, waiting patiently for his attention. When he finally turned around I smiled, but he grimaced and then laughed. “You don’t really think that you could win me over with those big eyelashes and that fake smile of yours, do you?” He was a big man, with a bald head and broad shoulders. I flinched when he spoke to me, a little bit defeated by his response. I did think that I could win him over. Maybe I just needed to use more of my charms.
“Look, Bruce. I’m only human, and we all make mistakes.” I pushed out my large breasts, having always been able to get a man’s attention and forgiveness with just a few glimpses at my buxom figure. He only laughed again. I fluffed out my hair and then smiled, seductively. It didn’t seem to be working. This was unusual for me because I had always been able to get a man’s attention and use it for my benefit.
“I could have any woman in England, Chloe. And believe me when I tell you that I don’t find thievery becoming on any female, including you. But you’ll see. One day you’ll realize that you messed with the wrong person.” He placed his hands on his hips and then shook his head. “To think that you actually thought you could rip off my idea and get away with it is just appalling. But I’ll get over it.” He chuckled and then spun around.
My attorney approached me and put his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. “Slavery? Thanks a lot. You could have gotten me out of this, but you failed me.” I was furious. The judge waited outside of the court-room and watched as the sheriff hand-cuffed me and led me to the front of the holding cell. My attorney followed, shaking his head. He looked defeated and frustrated.
“Chloe, I tried as best as I could. But what you did was hard to defend, and even with all of the strings I pulled, there just wasn’t any way for me to get around this sentence. I’m so sorry. But I think you’ll be okay.” He watched me with a forlorn expression as the sheriff dragged me away. He turned the key and un-locked the cell door, as I stood looking at the empty space. There was one small metal bench inside, a sink, and a toilet. I turned around and then watched as the sheriff locked me in.
“Bruce is filling out some paper-work. When he’s finished, which should be in about an hour, you’ll be police-escorted to his mansion, and led inside. You are to remain silent at all times. As soon as he opens the door to his mansion, you will be handed over to Bruce. He will be given the key to the hand-cuffs, and then your slavery sentence will begin.” The sheriff spoke briefly to me and then walked away. I looked at the sink, and then looked at the toilet. It was damp and dingy. I tried to cl
ose my eyes and wish the entire scenario away, but it was no use.
I sat on the bench and pulled my knees to my chest. It was cold in the cell, and I was hungry. I waited for the sheriff to come back, and about two hours later, he returned. He un-locked the cell with his large, metal key and led me out to the corridor. Bruce stood with his hands on his hips, a folder tucked underneath his arm. He watched as the sheriff opened up the back of his police vehicle and ushered me inside. I sat down on the back seat and looked out the window. A crowd was gathered outside of the court-house, and they all had pensive looks on their faces.
The drive to Bruce’s mansion was long and silent. All I could hear was the squeaking of the windshield wipers on the glass, and the sound of horns blaring in the distance. I closed my eyes temporarily, trying again to will the scenario away. When I opened them, we were in Bruce’s circular driveway. His property was finely landscaped, and the mansion stood alone, perched atop a hill that overlooked the rest of England. I waited quietly as the sheriff opened up the back door and led me to Bruce’s steps.
“She’s all yours now.” The sheriff grinned at Bruce and then turned around and got back into his car. “If you run into any problems, feel free to dial the station. Someone is there twenty-four hours a day to answer calls.” The sheriff tipped his hat and then got back inside his car. He started his engine and then pulled out of the driveway and into the dark and rainy afternoon. Bruce tugged at my wrists and then directed me into his home. He used a remote and suddenly the large, wooden doors opened. We entered a large, marble foyer, and then Bruce clicked the remote once more to close the doors.
I was astounded with the magnitude of his home. It was a mansion of elaborate proportions, adorned with various kinds of art-work and a hallway filled with mirrors. I tried to get a grasp on my surroundings, but there was too much to look at. I glanced up to view a diamond encased chandelier, and saw what appeared to be large video camera propped up in the corner. Bruce saw me eyeing it with suspicion and chuckled. “I see that you’ve noticed the camera. Get used to that. I have cameras placed in various parts of the mansion, so you’ll be under strict surveillance the entire duration of your stay.”
“You’re going to video-tape me? What kind of a weirdo are you?” I felt short-tempered and angry. The verdict was unfair, and I had been cheated out of a proper attorney. Surely, if I’d have spent more money, I could have secured a top-notch attorney who would have ensured that I never ended up in the hands of a nasty bald man who lived in a secluded mansion. Instead, I was now victim to his whims and dark desires.
“I’ll do whatever I wish to do with you, Chloe. You heard the court-order just like I did. The arrangement calls for you to remain under my own definition of slavery for a period of two weeks. After the two-week trial period, the court will reassess your sentence, and decide whether you are fit to re-enter the general population, or whether you will require an extended slavery conviction.”
I shook my head, angry and ill-willed. This was not what I wanted to hear. I looked at the video camera and tried to stick up my middle finger, but with the handcuffs it was difficult. Bruce only laughed at my feeble attempt, and then continued to lead me down the winding corridor and into a large room with red walls. I looked around, amazed at the grandeur. Bruce directed me to sit down on a wooden bench that faced outside. I could see the distant smog from London, and I could hear the cars zipping along on the highway. How I wished to be outside, away from the drudgery of the situation.
“You better be sure to give them an honest report. As long as I do what you ask of me, there is no reason that I should need to stay here for more than the initial two week period.” I realized that my womanly charms were not going to work on him, that my attractive nature and my flirtatious personality would have to be set aside for this period of enslavement. I sat and waited for Bruce to tell me what to do next.
“To start off, Chloe, I’d like you to put on a new outfit. I have a two piece leather ensemble that you’ll be wearing for the duration of your stay. It’s both sexy and utilitarian. I’ll expect you to do whatever I ask, and to submit to whatever kind of torture device or play that I so desire. Is that understood?” Bruce eyed me with a serious expression and I simply nodded my head.
He handed me the leather outfit and I stared at it with disbelief. It was not at all my style, but I knew that there was nothing I could do to get out of wearing it. “How am I supposed to put this on with my hands cuffed?” I smirked at him and he gave me a cold stare.
“It would behoove you, Chloe, to speak to me with more respect. Remember- I am the one who makes and breaks the level of torture that you will endure. Keep that in mind the next time you open your mouth. I’ll un-cuff you so that you can get changed, and then they go back on.” He slid a key into the hand-cuff and I was temporarily unbound. It felt good to shake my wrists out, and I dreaded having them put back on. I slid off my pants, then my underwear. Bruce stared at me silently. I took off my shirt and my bra, and then slid on the leather outfit.
“Now what?” I stood in front of Bruce, my body plastered in tight leather. My breasts felt like they would pop out of the top, but I remained calm and just waited for his next directive.
“Now, you will sit on this stool.” Bruce pulled out a small, wooden stool that had a purple cushion on top. “I want you to sit motionless. No jumping around and no backing away. I’m going to get my first torture device prepared, and then you will endure what I subject you to.” Bruce re-cuffed my hands, and motioned for me to sit. I wondered what he had in store for me.
He left the room for a minute and when he came back he was holding a lit candle. I tensed up omn my stool. “What’s the candle for?” I looked up when I asked him, and noticed another video camera. He must have stationed them in every room, because this was the second one I saw. I watched him as he approached me with the candle, and then stiffened as he held it up to my throat.
“How does this feel, Chloe?” Bruce stood in my face, the candle’s flame right in front of my throat. The heat wasn’t too much to endure the first thirty seconds, but it quickly started to heat up my skin and make me uncomfortable.
“It’s very hot. Please back off.” I wanted to move, but remembered his demand, so instead I sat upright and motionless. “It feels like it’s burning my skin.” I swore that I could smell my flesh burn as the flame got closer and closer. I wanted to scream but knew that he would punish me with something even worse if I opened my mouth, so I simply winced instead.
“I’ll stop for now.” Bruce backed up and I could tell that my skin had been singed from the flame. I wanted to touch it with my hands, but knew that that any kind of contact would make it worse. “Let’s get you to turn around for a little bit and see what’s happening on the other side.” He chuckled and motioned for me to stand up. I straightened myself and then closed my eyes. Bruce circled me with the lit candle.
“What should I do now?” I thought that if I tried to sound more compliant that maybe he would ease up on the severity of the torture. It didn’t seem to matter because he ignored me and I could feel the flame close to my back this time.
“Strip down out of the bottom of that leather piece.” Bruce commanded me and I obeyed. The leather was tight around my waist, so it took a minute for me to get it off, but once I did he wasted no time in torturing me with the flame. He held it close to my ass, and again I wanted to move away from the heat, but I endured the pain and tried to imagine that I was inside a cold swimming pool, instead. “Bend over now.” Bruce sounded assertive and brief.
I bent over and waited for the heat. He smacked my ass cheeks a few times and then I felt it- the flame against my skin. I winced and a tear rolled out of my eye. The intensity of the heat was almost too much for me to bear. I wanted to scream but I just held it in as the sensation got harder and harder to endure. He pushed apart my ass cheeks and then fingered my hole. It was oddly satisfying, but I knew the pleasurable sensation wouldn’t last for long. He h
eld my cheeks apart and then lowered the flame so that it hit my asshole. I cried out but quickly closed my mouth.
“How was that, Chloe? You know what they say about lighting a fire up someone’s ass, right?” He laughed at his ability to use a figure of speech, and then he got suddenly quiet. I could only imagine what he wanted to do next. “Spread your legs and stay bent over. I want to see more of that little hole.” He sounded like he was serious, and it turned me on slightly to know that he was admiring my ass. At the same time, I was in pain, and I didn’t want him to burn me anywhere else.
I did what he said and spread open my legs, then bent down further than I had before. He went at me with the flame again, and this time I cried out. I was unable to hold it in. My asshole had already been burned the first time, and his second round of the flame was too much for me to sustain. The heat sent a searing pain through my body and I stood up, steadying myself against the wall. As soon as I gathered my balance, I looked up and saw the camera again. I wanted to throw a punch at the screen, but all I could do was look at it and weep.
