TheNeedToContro
Virgin
- Joined
- May 7, 2011
- Posts
- 2
Your body trembles and your lips quiver as your master approaches, his bare chest gleaming with sweat in the hot, humid cellar. The shackles behind your back cut into your wrists. You hate that you love the way it stings.
This is new to you, this strange feeling: the desire to be controlled, the need to submit. Fear is present in your wide eyes, but so isn't excitement. You'd never thought you would do this. You were so proper once -- a strongly willed woman who didn't give a fuck what any man said to you, let alone instructed you to do.
Yet here you are, bound in a basement. You become aware of your worth, and you are worth nothing. You are a toy. You are a thing to be used. You are a possession. You are a slave. Value must be earned.
You're on your knees, your arms bound to your ankles. You suddenly realize how vulnerable your naked body is when he stands before you, his strong body towering over you. You glance up for only a moment -- you don't dare make eye contact for longer than that -- and notice the cruel smile that you'll become quite familiar with in the weeks to come.
He prods you with the toe of his boot, testing your soft flesh. He puts a hand on your head, strokes your hair, and traces your jawline with his forefinger.
When he raises the leather belt, you smile in the brief moment before it lands across your delicate breast, and find comfort in the thought that you're not just a slut -- you are his slut.
PM me to prove your worth.
This is new to you, this strange feeling: the desire to be controlled, the need to submit. Fear is present in your wide eyes, but so isn't excitement. You'd never thought you would do this. You were so proper once -- a strongly willed woman who didn't give a fuck what any man said to you, let alone instructed you to do.
Yet here you are, bound in a basement. You become aware of your worth, and you are worth nothing. You are a toy. You are a thing to be used. You are a possession. You are a slave. Value must be earned.
You're on your knees, your arms bound to your ankles. You suddenly realize how vulnerable your naked body is when he stands before you, his strong body towering over you. You glance up for only a moment -- you don't dare make eye contact for longer than that -- and notice the cruel smile that you'll become quite familiar with in the weeks to come.
He prods you with the toe of his boot, testing your soft flesh. He puts a hand on your head, strokes your hair, and traces your jawline with his forefinger.
When he raises the leather belt, you smile in the brief moment before it lands across your delicate breast, and find comfort in the thought that you're not just a slut -- you are his slut.
PM me to prove your worth.
