Owning Her: Beautiful Domestic Discipline

by Susan Sass

  Disgusted, she threw the girl down on the floor and presented her other foot. “Perhaps you can show some improvement in your attitude.”

  This time Layla began to energetically lick and kiss Aya’s foot. Layla made soft moans of subservience as she worked her tongue between Aya’s toes and then laved the sole of her foot. Aya knew she was feigning her enthusiasm but she did not correct her. It was somehow sweeter knowing the girl was repulsed and pretending pleasure.

  Once Aya’s foot was clean, Layla began to work her way up to Aya’s ankle, her red and tear stained face looking up at her Mistress beseechingly, a tiny whimper of need rose up from the girl. Aya knew Layla was wanting to be told she had done better, to receive some tiny crumb of approval. Carefully hiding the rush of pleasure that made her cunt clench and heat, Aya again casually pushed the girl away with her foot and turned, climbing into the bath.

  The temperature had cooled somewhat from the normal scalding temperature that Aya always demanded but she decided to not censure the girl for this. There was no way Layla could have anticipated the delay, though Aya s to herself thinking of the frustration that could have lit up the girls eyes if she had been told that the temperature was wrong, that if she had been faster in licking her Mistress’s feet that it would not have happened. It did not matter, Aya was sure she could find many more reasons to frustrate and humiliate the girl this night.

  Layla’s hands trembled nervously as she bathed Aya, her confidence in her skills shaken and fearful of some other new surprise and failure to please her Mistress. She carefully soaped, scrubbed and shampooed Aya, rinsing her with pitchers of hot lavender scented clean water drawn directly from the tap, the temperature carefully measured and the lavender measured carefully into each. Layla knew she had to rinse quickly, Aya was standing in the bath and did not want to feel any chill between cascades of hot water pouring over her body.

  Finally Aya nodded briskly and stepped from the bath. Layla quickly poured some moisturizing cream into her hand and began to massage the lotion into Aya’s still wet skin, working it in quickly neck to toes, her hands firm and soothing. Aya could sense the girl beginning to gain confidence and she jerked away, impatient. “Bathe, and be sure to clean your mouth, your breath stinks of feet.” She turned and strolled into her room and pulled on a clean silk robe.

  The sun was low when Aya came back from her final rounds. It was her habit to check on the slaves and workers on last time, noting who was playing with whom, making sure the guards were not getting too lax. The fact that Josh had managed to make wine was a clear indication that there was some easing of the alertness of the guards, though Aya strongly suspected that one or two may have been among his customers. At least a couple had to be getting a kick back from Josh’s little business. She knew she would find out who soon enough. It did not even occur to her to ask Josh, it was not a slave’s place to indict a guard or an overseer.

  Layla was kneeling outside Aya’s door when she walked up to her quarters. The girl was nude and in the correct position of a slave waiting her Master’s return. Nude, facing out, knees carefully spread to expose her sex, she had both hands resting relaxed and palm up on her thighs. When Aya’s feet came to a stop in front of her, Layla kept her eyes on the tips of Aya’s sandals and spoke in a low voice, “This slave greets her Mistress and awaits her commands.”

  Aya stood looking down at the top of the girl’s head, “Run me a bath, slave.”

  Layla rose gracefully and carefully backed away from Aya, and then turned and glided into the small cabin that Aya called home. Aya could have lived outside the slave compound. If she wished she could have had a house anywhere on the island but she preferred to stay in the compound where she could keep a finger on the pulse of the little community that she was in charge of.

  Chapter 20

  The only piece of furniture in her bedroom was a large four post bed with mosquito netting that could be pulled down around the sides. On one side was a bank of built in drawers and on the other a decorative wooden grill that acted as a divider between her living area and her sleeping area. It was strongly built and ropes dangled from it in many places. Aya could hear Layla splash as she quickly cleaned herself. Pulling out one of her drawers she got out a stack of ropes. She was definitely in an artistic mood.

  Layla silently stepped through the bathroom door and knelt, assuming the posture of waiting. Aya snapped her fingers, pointing at the foot of the bed. “Stand there. Lift your hands over your head.”

  Aya could see Layla look nervously at the ropes on the foot of the bed from the corner of her eye as she assumed the position. Aya picked up a handful of ropes. “Don’t lower your arms. Keep them still.” Aya knew that it would be difficult to stand still and hold her hands up. Soon muscle fatigue would set in, making her arms burn and ache. Taking her time she began to sort out the ropes, planning the complex tie she had in Mind. First she wanted to tie Layla’s breasts, binding them in a tight tie that would trap the blood inside them, turning them swollen and purple, making them all the more sensitive and vulnerable to pain.

  There was an art in tying a girl so she was completely restrained, bound perfectly immobile, yet accessible for use and abuse. The tie itself would be a source of stress and pain, but also stimulating the girl, triggering her assent to maddening sexual excitement. Aya had not decided if she would allow Layla to orgasm, but she knew that the girl was going to suffer a lot before she come to that decision.

  The sensation of the rope sliding through her hands and the warmth of the girls skin as she tied the ropes around and around, pulling them snug was relaxing and Aya quickly developed a tempo. Once the girl’s breasts were tied, layers of ropes tied around her shoulders and chest, Aya pushed her back onto the bed telling her to keep her hands above her head, and began to tie her calves to her thighs, Then she tied the girls knees to sides of her chest, forcing them wide. Aya stepped back and looked down at the girl. Her breasts were already swollen and engorged and her cunt was exposed and vulnerable to any torment Aya decided to inflict upon it. Smiling wickedly, Aya took some thin ropes and tied them to Layla’s toes, and then pulled them up toward her knees, stretching the tendon on the back of her legs, adding that tension to her legs, forcing the soles of her feet up and bare.

  Last Aya tied the girls hands to the top of the bed and pulled the girl’s hips down until they hung over the edge of the foot of the bed and tied her there, stretching her arms and immobilizing her completely. Throughout the tie, Layla lay soft and passive under Aya’s hands. Her eyes were large and apprehensive, but Aya could see that her cunt was swollen and wet. On impulse Aya leaned down and sniffed the glistening folds between Layla’s bound legs and then wrinkling up her nose, tentatively dabbed at her cunt with her tongue, clearly tasting. She lifted up her head and looked at the girl, “So bland, tasteless. I am bored with the taste of your cunt.” She looked coolly at the puzzlement in the girl’s face, rarely did Aya ever go down on any female, it was well known that she very much enjoyed that kind of attention but it was almost unheard of for her to perform oral on any slave. Her statement of being bored was confusing to Layla, this was the first time she had ever touched her mouth to the girls cunt.

  Aya walked into her office and got the little dish of red hot pepper oil and a small paint brush. Experimentally she dipped the tip of the brush in the oil and touched it to the tip of her tongue, the almost immediate flash of heat and the growing sense of burning was sharp and almost too much to ignore. She could feel her face flushing and sweat start out on her forehead. She found herself swallowing as her mouth flooded with saliva and when she swallowed the burning spread from the tip of her tongue to the rest of her mouth.

  She knelt next to Layla and whispered, “Open your mouth.”

  Obediently Layla opened her mouth wide and Aya, using the paintbrush, dropped a small drip on the girl’s tongue. A quiver went through the girl’s whole body and her face almost instantly turned red, but she lay still and quiet, her
lips still obediently spread open and wide. Aya had not said for her to close her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears and Aya watched in fascination as a salty drop slid down the girl’s temple and into her damp blond hair.

  Aya whispered into the girl’s ear, deliberately elongating her sibilants, “Yesss, jussst the ssspice for a bland, blond cunt.” For the first time Layla surged against the ropes binding her and a tiny whimper of protest rose up in her chest.

  Aya whispered again, “Yesss? Do you wish to sssay sssomething?”

  Layla forced herself to still and resume her silence. Her head gave the subtlest of shakes. She knew that whatever Aya was planning to do was going to happen. Her pleas would only serve to enrage her Mistress. She knew that eventually she would end up screaming for mercy, but to start now, before it even happened was foolish.

  Aya chuckled and moved down eyeing the bound girls exposed cunt and delicately painted a tiny stripe of the red oil down center of the girls cleft, starting at the very top and down to the small puckered rose of her ass. Layla kept her teeth clenched but her lips pulled back in a grimace of agony, a long low whining squeal of pain rose up and up, whistling through her nose. While any movement was completely impossible, she surged and jerked against the ropes. Aya watched in silent fascination as the girls tissues turned red and began to swell.

  Carefully setting the hot oil to one side, Aya picked up a flogger and trailed down the girl’s body, but Layla had her eyes clenched shut and seemed oblivious to the touch. Aya snapped it sharply against the girl’s swollen breasts and her red eyes flew open and she winced, a grunt of surprised pain interrupted the keening wails of discomfort. Aya chuckled again, “So many kinds of pain, aren’t there? You think the fire in your cunt is all there is?” Again she brought the flogger down on the girl’s breasts, and then began to whip it back and forth. Soon the hue of the girl’s breast turned redder and darker, her small virginal nipples distended and purple. Layla’s cries grew loud, and soft inarticulate babbles mixed with her screams. Soft curses, words of pain and half spoken pleas for mercy mixed with the yelps and squeals. Aya brought the flogger down on the soles of Layla’s feet and noted the change in tone of the screams. Finally she trailed the ends of the whip over her swollen burning flesh. Aya looked curiously at the tortured tissues, they were scarlet and shining wet. As she watched a drop of clear liquid fell from Layla’s cunt and splashed in a little wet spot on the rug on the floor. Aya again dabbed her tongue curiously at the engorged labia and instantly the heat of the oil spread across her tongue.

  At the warm soft sensation of Aya’s tongue, Layla froze and fell silent, silent tremors making her body quiver. Aya smacked her lips, “Much improved, I must admit I could develop a taste for this spicy cunt flesh.” She leaned down again and licked, her tongue spreading the girl open and sweeping across the engorged tissues. As the fire in Aya’s mouth grew, she wondered if she was easing or spreading the burning on Layla’s cunt. A tiny agonized moan rose up from the girl beneath her and Aya s to hear notes of excitement mixed with fear and discomfort.

  By now the ropes must really be starting to hurt, the muscles complaining from being stretched and held tense for so long, the blood fighting to circulate, the aching turning to a slow burn. Aya lifted her mouth and looked down at the girl, twisting and quivering in her bonds. Aya climbed up on the bed and straddled the girls face and slowly lowered her cunt down to the girl’s lips. “Lick me. Make me come. I expect a better job than this morning.”

  Aya knew it was a much more difficult position, and being tied, Layla was restricted to the movement of her neck and tongue. Aya’s eyes flashed open wide when she began to feel a burning in her own tissues, nothing like the burning on her tongue but a distinct heat and then she chuckled to remember she had given Layla a taste of the hot oil to enhance her anticipation and fear. It lent a certain piquant justice to the experience and to Aya’s surprise she found the heat growing in her cunt very erotic. She was tempted to put some more of the oil in the girl’s mouth but then thought better of it. She filed the information away, wondering what impact it would have on a male slave to have his cock engulfed in her mouth only to find it on fire, would he fight, could he come?

  She let a soft sigh of excitement ease between her lips, letting herself relax and enjoy the sensation of the girls tongue and lips. Sensually she ground her hips down on the girl’s face and then playfully brought the flogger down between the girl’s legs, the straps slapping down on the wet tissues. A soft yelp was muffled against her cunt, sending an electric thrill through Aya. Again she brought the flogger down, sharper, more demanding this time, relishing the convulsion and squall against her. As Aya’s passion built she brought the whip down over and over, and the tone of the screams beneath her changed, becoming moans. Layla’s tongue and lips were frantic and wildly excited, her groans turning from pain to a struggle to contain her passion. Layla knew better than to come without permission, her cries changing to muffled pleading whimpers. When Aya’s passion built to a rising peak, she dropped the flogger and leaned forward giving the frantic girl better access to her clit. Aya grabbed both of the swollen engorged breasts and crushed them in her hands, letting her orgasm roar through her as the Layla screamed into her cunt.

  Even in her agony, Layla did not stop, her mouth continuing to lick and suck, easing some of the intensity, but not leaving her Mistress until commanded to stop. Aya leaned back, careful to give the girl room to breathe as she slowly came down from her peak. Finally she lifted herself from the girls face and looked down at the girl who was blinking at the sudden light, her face wet with her Mistress’s juices and tears.

  Aya’s voice as curious, “How does your cunt feel now?”

  Layla licked her lips nervously. Her voice was hoarse from screaming, “It burns, Mistress, but not as bad as at first.” She squirmed a little, “It also kind of itches and tingles now as well, Mistress.”

  Aya untied Layla’s hands and smirked, “You may scratch if you wish.”

  The slave girl’s eyes looked fearfully at Aya, clearly wondering if she was being tricked or tested. Tentatively she reached down and rubbed gently at her cunt and then lower, tenderly touching at her itching nether passage. Aya moved to stand at the foot of the bed, looking closely as the girl cautiously tried to sooth the sensation with her fingers.

  Aya murmured, “Did you come?”

  Layla’s fingers jerked away. “No Mistress. I came close when you were flogging me but I did not come, I swear.” The girl’s voice was fearful and vibrated with the need to be believed.

  “Would you like to come?”

  “Mistress, my orgasms belong to you. They are yours to give. Not mine to ask for.”

  Aya s, “But you like to come, don’t you?”

  “A slave appreciates all the gifts her Mistress bestows upon her.”

  Aya laughed out loud, “You are such a mealy mouthed little liar. You and I both know that you live for that hot little cunt and the sensations it gives you. If I send you away unsatisfied, a little whiny voice in your head will complain that you somehow did not get your reward. You will think to yourself that you tried so hard to be good, that you deserved to be rewarded. You take such pride in being a hot fuck, but you know it is all about you. You want to be good because you hope for rewards, not because it makes you happy that I am pleased.”

  Layla looked frightened and nervous, her eyes shifting. Aya knew she had the girl trapped with the truth and reveled in her fear. Aya leaned over and whispered, once again drawing out her sibilants, “And you did pleassse me, ssslut. You ssstruggled to be perfect for me. I sssee your pride, but I alssso sssee your ssself ssserving ssselfish waysss. You did not do it for me. You did it for your own ssselfish needsss. missstresss firssst, yesss, but then you wait for your rewardsss. Why isss it not enough to know that you ssserved me well, that you gave me pleasssure?”

  Layla reached toward Aya, her face a mask of sadness, “Please Mistress, forgive me. You are right, I fo
rgot my true duty to you. I was thinking of myself. Always I look forward to my rewards. I did not realize how selfish it was. Please, Mistress, is there another way I may serve you?”

  Aya began to untie the ropes holding the girl, massaging and manipulating the girl’s limbs as she was freed. Once the girl was loose, Aya s and spoke softly, “Slave Layla open your mouth and stick out your tongue for me.” Again Aya placed a single drop of the hot pepper oil on the girls tongue. “Close your mouth and swirl the oil around on your tongue. Swallow it down.”

  Again Layla’s face flushed and sweat stood out on her forehead. Aya s and lay back on the bed, spreading her legs, “Yes, you may serve me again. Take your time, I want this to last.”

  This time the burning sensation was more pronounced, almost too painful, but the heat was compelling. Aya’s long slender fingers found their way to her own dark nipples, pulling and twisting at them. With her hands free, Layla looked up at Aya and slowly licked the length of her fingers and then slid them deep into her Mistress’s passage, pressing deep and then rubbing at the inner walls. Aya groaned as she felt the heat from the girl’s saliva on her fingers, “Yes, fuck yes, that is good.”

  Aya only let Layla slip away after her third orgasm. She stroked the hair away from the girl’s face and looked into her eyes, “Slave, you have pleased me. Does that please you?”