Lady Noir

I might even take this little encounter to the next level... It was a fair assumption that the affluent recluse lived alone with his pretty girl, and with a kinky secret like this dungeon and the motherlode of useful toys next door, it was also unlikely he'd have any sort of hired help. That only left my company, Domme-in-8, privy to my location - but my reverential employees would believe any far-fetched story I told them. Or I could simply leave my clients tied up and return after the session was officially completed. A most tempting prospect indeed...

I looked down at the agitated girl I'd been absent-mindedly teasing. The face she held up to me now was simply adorable. She was like a little kitten wanting her chin scratched. I had no intention of indulging her, of course - she had yet to learn of the unadulterated pleasure only a female touch could incite, and for that she had to be completely prepared for the experience.

The chair in which she'd so thoughtfully presented herself to me had served its purpose admirably, but now I needed my delicious pet in a slightly more vulnerable position. The cunningly simple device I had locked her into was perfect for this purpose. It consisted of two B-shaped metal shackles joined by a wide leather strap. A thigh and a wrist went through the two holes of each "B" and the strap wrapped taut around behind the victim's back, ensuring their bound limbs were held tightly against their chest but wide enough apart that their breasts were still openly displayed. I'd also secured ankles to thighs and wrists to shoulders just to tie up the loose ends. The end result was that all of the victim's limbs were locked into the same alignment with the restraints resting almost right under their nose. A girl couldn't be more helpless and vulnerable if she was locked naked into a pillory.

My sexy victim's nubile form had fit the restraints perfectly. Her legs were folded snugly onto her delicious ass with her fully-bent arms fused to her sides. Her breasts were squeezed between her trembling thighs and her hardened nipples still bore their tight clover clamps proudly, a short chrome chain hanging between them to complete the image of a servile submissive. I'd also taken the liberty of padding the wrist cuffs with her tattered miniskirt. It wouldn't do to have my pet chafing her wrists when I moved her into position.

Most importantly, her delectable mound of Venus was framed perfectly by the V of her spread legs. Her flushed vulva hung invitingly from the base of her tightly-packaged form. Soon, I told myself.

My voluptuous plaything was now held in a fairly compact position - any other girl would probably be badly cramping within a minute, but the amply-informative profile Gordon had submitted told me in no uncertain terms that this sexpot was as supple as they come. Just as well, because she'll soon be cumming quite a lot indeed, I thought, smiling at my own pun.

What the profile hadn't mentioned was just how athletic this slim beauty was. Firm cords of muscle ran along her deceptively slender arms, and her sturdy thighs wouldn't look out of place on a professional sprinter. Certainly distinct from my usual types of clients, who were generally the more slothful and self-indulgent sorts of girls. I wondered what kind of 'exercise' she engaged in to stay so fit... In any case, it meant I had to be a bit more careful with her. I could easily overpower or outmanoeuvre most girls if necessary, but this one might present more of a challenge if she put her mind to it. Fortunately, she currently wasn't in any position to resist me.

In fact, the purpose of her current position was to encourage the precise opposite response. The most desirable parts of her delicious body were not only audaciously displayed, they were also openly accessible to any sort of contact I wished. Her sinewy legs were held well out of the way, leaving those blushing orifices extended towards me about as appealingly as they come. And of course, any position that draws someone's attention straight to your flushed pussy is an exceedingly humiliating position for any girl, especially one who just wants to crawl away and hide in a dark corner. Unfortunately for that girl, escape was off the menu. But there was a very tempting special in its place: raw pussy.

One last accessory was needed first, though. These particular restraints also offered an optional leather handle that could be clipped between the two B-rings, effectively transforming the trussed-up girl into a mass of overweight baggage and making it somehow even more impossible to wriggle free. I really must remember to thank Gordon for supplying me with such excellent equipment. With one hand I could now lift the girl's entire body like a human suitcase. If she was into forniphilia she'd be buzzing right now; if she wasn't, all the better.

I'd removed her unbuttoned blouse now, too - it was clearly an expensive custom-tailored garment so cutting it wouldn't have been wise, but moving her arms into different restraints had allowed me to slip the sleeves off safely. Like any competent domina, I understood the importance of appropriate attire - just as I didn't consider myself to be in full domme mode without the empowering sensation of tight latex buckled to my skin, a submissive didn't fully appreciate her place without her whole body bared for all to see and a heavy collar sitting snugly around her neck. My reluctant sub was already sporting a suitable collar, and now the rest of her body bore that universal brand of submission too. Nakedness was more than skin-deep, after all - a sub needed to know that she could keep no secrets from her domme and that any vestigial right to privacy was long abolished.

Now, in order to overload her delightful body with pleasure, I needed to first give her a point of reference. Some less-than-satisfactory pleasure, to say the least - and it couldn't come from me, because that would defeat the purpose. The idea was to show her that the pleasure men reluctantly imparted was vastly inferior to the intense pleasure a woman could happily provide. Her bound and horny husband would be perfect for this demonstration, as he was presumably the person she was most intimate with. As for how to make the experience as uncomfortable as possible... Well, Gordon had already told me in his online profile of her exactly what it was she least enjoyed. How thoughtful of him.

I gathered a few coils of rope from my generous host's storeroom. It was high-quality nylon bondage rope, too; silky smooth to reduce chafing, but also deceptively strong. I used some to secure the girl's handle to a ring conveniently embedded in the ceiling, suspending her in a horizontally reclined position. This left each of her three orifices all at a perfect height for convenient thrusting, and by the forlorn expression she shot my way, she knew it perfectly well.

I then took a large tapered chrome hook from the amply-equipped storeroom and lubricated it with some of the continually-replenishing saliva decorating her face. Pushing it gently against my pet's puckered anus, I gradually applied more pressure to allow her sphincter to open naturally for me. I ignored her pointless moaning, and soon the widest point of the hook slipped in smoothly to the sound of a sharp gasp and a satisfying jerk as her own body started pulling the tapered section further in. The rest followed effortlessly until the hook nestled comfortably between her firm globes. Her flesh trembled under my hands as it protested at the cold intrusion. I then tied some rope to the end of this hook and pulled it across the underside of her body to connect it to a quick hairtie, wrapping a small loop around her stylised locks to ensure any tugging would be distributed evenly.

"That's a pretty hairstyle you've got there, dear," I informed her. "Trying to impress someone?"

I didn't bother pointing out to her how redundant that would be - an elaborate hairdo was a mark of pride for most girls, and pride meant little when the object of that pride - her body - was under the absolute control of another. My sardonic comment would only serve to remind her exactly how helpless she was, which of course was the reason I had said it. Though it was certainly true that her hair looked strikingly elegant.

Sure enough, her uneasy expression intensified as she processed my innocent remark. Her eyes widened as she twisted her wrists and flexed her fingers hopelessly. No doubt I'd given her something to think about - she'd probably be trying to reconcile her naturally submissive nature with her self-grooming habits now. I smiled as I pictured the uncertainty that would soon be passing through her mind: Is all the control I have over my life only an illusion?

Her hair was now thoroughly secured, in any case. And more importantly, her head was pulled back just the right amount for some nice inverted fellatio. Not that I enjoyed such an activity myself, but I felt obliged to indulge my beautiful client in the more masculine contact she so obviously craved - if only to demonstrate how inadequate it was. I was also taking a bit of a gamble in deducing she didn't enjoy that kind of sexual activity, but it was an assumption of which I was fairly confident - you become rather proficient at reading sexual preferences when you do it for a living.

I gave her nipple clamps a sharp tug to remind her of their presence. When I'd put them on she hadn't exactly been conscious, so I wanted to make sure she felt them now. And judging by her equally sharp glare, she felt them perfectly well. That was good - I didn't want her to think I was getting soft.

As I approached her spectating husband, his eyes met mine and flashed with anger. My, my, quite the temper there. But I didn't need to release him, so I didn't really care what he thought of me.

I loosened the rope around his ankles slightly so he could hobble, and then I grabbed at his crotch - predictable male, always ready with an erection - and pulled his bulging member out of his pants, glad of the latex membrane between my hand and his repulsive organ. I led him over to his wife by keeping a firm grip on his trapped testicles, forcing him to stumble across the room clumsily. Then I persuasively encouraged him to use her proffered hole, pressing on the small of his back until his manhood made contact with the ample-sized orifice held conveniently open by the large metal ring gagging her mouth.

His unbridled lust took over then - even without appropriate footing or hands to steady himself, he was off thrusting into the girl's waiting mouth like there was no tomorrow. Either this was an activity they both frequently enjoyed, or her dearly devoted husband had some repressed desires he had never dared to reveal before now. A single glance at her face told me it was certainly not the former - my pet had her eyes scrunched up in silent agony as her incoherent vocals were forcefully stifled by the mass of flesh pounding down her throat. I watched her throat constrict repeatedly as she struggled not to choke from the violation.

And there was no doubt she saw the act as a complete violation - her eyes, when they did strain open from time to time, glowered with a furious disapproval at her husband's objectification of her chiselled face as just another hole to fuck. It was all too clear that that particular orifice was absolutely off-limits in their private sex life. If not for the strong metal ring holding her clenched jaw apart, the fleshy shaft would probably be mashed to a pulp before she even spared a thought for who it belonged to.

I knew then that she was ready for some true pleasure, so I pulled the over-enthusiastic male out of her helpless orifice before he had a chance to get too excited. With her head pulled back as it was, his load would shoot straight down her throat - and with her lack of oral experience some of it might even get into her windpipe, which could be disastrous. Far better that I might be seen as her saviour, rescuing her from having to swallow that vile fluid.

The sweaty male breathed heavily and wriggled frantically as I dragged him back to his corner and hooked him back up in his partial suspension so that he faced the corner this time. Naughty boys deserve punishment, after all. And as far as I was concerned, all boys were naughty.

Turning my undivided attention back to my irresistible plaything, I smeared some of her own love nectar on my clean hand and offered it to her as a means of cleansing her mouth of that distasteful male taint. To my surprise she seemed to accept it gracefully, stretching out her tongue to partake of the sweet musk.

Now she was ready. I spun her slowly around until her neglected cherry faced me, leaving her in the ideal position for some passionate stimulation of that most sensitive erogenous region. Her silky hair was still pulled back tightly by the anal hook, forcing her to look up and ensuring she couldn't see what I was doing. All the better - the sensations would be all the more powerful if she was ignorant of my advances.

I traced my glossy hands down her sides from underneath, gently caressing her flawless skin. I continued downwards across her glowing cheeks, lightly tracing the crevice splitting her two warm buns. I pressed briefly against the metal hook, now thoroughly wedged into the crack from her struggling and effectively glued there with sweat. I traced the perfectly circular lip of her stretched sphincter muscle, smiling as it visibly contracted and relaxed under my touch. Finally I reached her most precious treasure, partially concealed by the rosy lips of her labia. I parted these lips gently, hearing a sensual moan from above me as my breath washed over the newly-exposed folds of sensitive female flesh.

Getting down on my knees, I put my own lips softly to her love mound and parted her pert lips with my tongue. Slowly, I began to explore the bountiful folds of her inner sanctum.

The effect was immediate. Her nubile body purred to life under my probing tongue, fuelled by the unparalleled pleasure of a female touch. Or perhaps she was struggling to escape that touch - it was all the same to me. Her breath came out in ragged gasps above me, spurring me on. I breathed in deeply, revelling in the warm radiance of her juicy aroma.

Continuing my intimate investigation of the voluminous folds of her succulent pussy, I slowly worked my way deeper into the core of her womanhood. Soon my glossy lips were flush with her ruby-red labia, the inner curve of my Cupid's bow forming an arc beneath the deceptively insignificant nub of her clitoris. I flexed my experienced tongue inside her, spiralling around the inner walls of her vaginal orifice, finishing after several revolutions just below her G-spot.

Then in a single fluid motion I pressed my tongue into that highly-sensitive dimple just as I slipped my upper lip onto her love bud, firmly stimulating both erogenous spots with unrelenting vigour.

Within moments I was rewarded with a surge of milky juices gushing straight into my mouth, which I sucked up greedily. The flow ebbed away after a few seconds as cries of pleasure turned to heavy gasps... but I wasn't satisfied yet.

While I continued orally assaulting the euphoric girl's crotch, I reached up over her navel with both hands and took a firm hold of her trapped breasts. The nipple clamps were still holding strong - I would have to add some weights to give her a chance of shaking them off. For now I just prodded her squashed nipples gently, feeling proud of my sub when I got no reaction.

Extreme sexual arousal has the fascinating effect of negating all sensation of pain - in fact, any such stimuli would only serve to prolong the sub's state of sensory detachment. A less disciplined domme might take advantage of this masochistic feedback loop, but it was my strict custom to tailor my services to each sub; to handle each sub as ethically as possible, if indeed the term 'ethical' could be applied at all to my work. I knew this girl was no pain slut, and while she might not feel any pain in her current state, she would certainly feel it later.

My earlier bout of corporal punishment on her feet had been just that - punishment, with the added bonus of striking a healthy dose of fear into her, simultaneously lowering her expectations for the pleasure I was now delivering. I had, perhaps, been a bit harsher than necessary - it would now take the bright red stripes on the girl's otherwise flawless skin a few days to heal instead of just hours - but I had also wanted to ensure she would be unable to run after me should I choose to end our session and bid her farewell. I may decide to leave her untied, after all, and impairing her movement is a crude but effective way of ensuring she can't take immediate revenge against me for any perceived injustice. Or maybe the revenge she seeks will be against her disloyal husband? Of course, if all goes well I will depart to a begrudging confession of her gratitude for the whole experience, but a lady's always got to have a plan B.

So while I massaged her clinched breasts firmly, I did so with the sole intention of enhancing her sexual pleasure. The increased pressure on her crushed nipples might cause a moderate amount of pain under more ordinary circumstances, but in her current state the harsh stimulation would also bestow a substantial amount of sexual pleasure. Indeed, there was a fine line between sexual torture and sadism - a line I greatly enjoyed exploring with each sub - but once that line was marked out, it was my professional responsibility to take on the challenge of adhering to it.

I lowered my eyelids in satisfaction as I felt my pet's loins trembling from another approaching climax. Ah, it was always a delight to deprive a girl of her perceived self-restraint. Because for some unfathomable reason, my clients always believed they could control their own orgasms, and that any forced climax was a humiliating failure on the part of their own sexual restraint. Of course, I was more than happy to let them believe such a ridiculous misconception. They invariably discovered in their own time that their sexual release was entirely in my hands - or mouth, as the case may be. It was simply another level of dominance to assert: demonstrating my power to both grant and deny them pleasure irrespective of their own desires.

And yet the most destructive revelation my clients experience is that there does actually have to be some degree of voluntary submission on their part. In truth, stimulation alone can't elicit an orgasmic response without at least a hint of arousal from the submissive. Usually stimulation causes arousal - but arousal itself actually comes from the mind, not that anyone has the willpower to resist it. This is what really breaks unwilling subs - the realisation that on some level they're genuinely enjoying themselves, and that it's because of their own oft-repressed submissive nature.

As far as I was concerned, however, such arousal was assured from the moment they laid eyes on me. On the off chance a light tickling of a girl's sweet spots wasn't enough to put them in their sexy place, everything about the way I presented myself - the tight one-piece bodice; the gleaming latex that cleaved to my skin; the soft makeup and dare I say unsettlingly confident smile - was intended to arouse. Even the torturous foreplay helped in this regard, lowering my sub's defences for when the real assault began: the assault on their very will. It was overkill, really - I'd never known anyone who wasn't at least a little aroused by an enthralling seductress and a tangle of kinky femdom. By then their fate was sealed. Straight girls invariably took the longest to come around, but sooner or later, everyone degenerates into a submissive slut screaming for sexual release. Which I happily provide, knowing my job is complete.