Overcome

She awakens slowly.

Somehow, she is standing, her wrists cuffed, hands pulled above her. Her arms strained, stretched almost painfully tight by the weight of her own body. She finds minor relief for her arms by standing on the tips of her toes, but soon discovers that standing on her tiptoes slowly and inexorably brings aching discomfort to the muscles in her legs and back. No matter how she stands, some part of her hurts. She fidgets, unsuccessfully trying to find any position that would bring comfort. In her movements, she realizes the comforting weight of clothing is missing. Her breaths quicken to pants as her predicament, and the fact that she cannot escape, becomes obvious through the drug-induced fog.

She couldn't remember where she was, or how she got there. The last memory she had was at the local bar, celebrating her 21st birthday with a couple of close friends...the night before? Two nights ago? She just couldn't remember.

Things started out well that night, everybody having fun and drinking. As the night wore on, though, her girlfriends slowly drifted away, talking with men they had picked up over the course of the evening. Eventually, she found herself sitting alone at the bar, watching the happenings around her and wondering exactly why she was there. She remembered spending some time chatting with a gentleman that approached her as she sat alone on the barstool. He made it quite clear he was interested in her, and he was handsome enough, in the cliché dark-haired and mysterious sort of way. He seemed nice enough, and was intelligent and witty. She had had fun chatting with him, so she accepted his offer to buy her a drink. Everything after that seemed...fuzzy.

A small sound behind her and to her right brings her head up quickly, and her attention back to current circumstances. The sound of distant movement, a soft click. A door? She frantically attempts to see through the blackness that blinds her. She tries to call out, but is still too drowsy for her voice to produce more than a soft whimper. The gentle touch of a hand on her cheek, and a soft chuckle of amusement when she jerks her head away, brings a quickly indrawn breath with the realization that she is not alone in the darkness. Desperate, she again tries to call out, eliciting only small, panicked sounds.

"Now, now, love. We can't have you bringing unwanted attention to us, can we?" His voice was soft and gentle, almost comforting if not for the words he spoke. She heard more movement, muted footsteps on thick carpeting, clinks and jingles, other sounds she couldn't fully identify. Tears finally overflow, spilling out from under the blindfold. A hand on her chin slowly draws her face upwards, surprisingly gentle, though strong and inescapable. A soft touch of warm lips upon hers, tasting her sweet tears, and then the taste of rubber as something round pushed between her lips, slipping between her teeth and pushing her jaws apart, putting an end to further thoughts of crying out for help. "There, that's better. Isn't it sweetheart?" He chuckles again at the muffled, jumbled response his question gets.

"Now...What to do, what to do..." Her head follows the muted sounds of his footsteps as he circles her, the image of a shark circling its prey vividly flashing behind her blinded eyes. Hands caress her shoulders, running across the tense muscles, down her back and out towards her hips. "There is so much to choose from, so much...But we have all the time in the world now, my pretty. You are mine, and before the night's end, you will say so, and believe it." A finger wipes away a tear as it trails across her cheek. "You are afraid, now, but soon you will thank me. Tonight will be difficult for you little one, but once you understand you belong to me, it will get easier. You will find that life as my possession will be much easier, much happier, for you. You must only admit you belong to me. Now what do you say?"

A frantic shake of her head gives the answer she desperately thinks, "No! No! I am a woman! An adult! I belong to nobody! I am not property!"

A soft sigh caresses over her arm and cheek as he leans against her back. "Very well, love. We must do this the difficult way. It begins."

With the last words, his voice becomes brusque, all business. He steps away quickly, and the loud "SLAP!" of leather against skin fills the silence of the room. Her head snaps upwards and she cries out involuntarily at the unexpected shock of pain. A hand gently caresses her ribs, moving around to her breasts as he leans in against her back again. "This is only the crop, pretty, and is gentle compared to many of my toys. You will learn to love all of my toys. You will learn to love your Master." He kneaded her right breast, tweaking the nipple as it stood erect, and she moaned softly through her tears.

He kissed her neck, nibbling softly at her ear as she moaned, until she began to jerk at her bonds, attempting to flee his attentions.

Again, the hard SLAP! of the crop against the tender skin of her buttocks. She wriggled and squirmed, shaking and trying to swing herself away from the pain. The welts raised by the crop burned and stung, but the attention to her breasts and the soft kisses on her neck were strongly erotic. To her dismay and confusion, her body immediately responded to his touches.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Over and over again, the crop came down upon the ivory skin, playing over her shoulders, buttocks and thighs, until she sagged in the bonds, her energies exhausted from her struggles. He moved in front of her, watching as she regained her breath in sobbing pants. Again, his hands played over ribs, coming to rest on her breasts, gently caressing, kneading, fingertips flicking across her erect nipples. Again, she moved away from him, crying out her fear around the gag in her mouth.

He smiles, enjoying her struggles to comprehend the link he was building between pain and erotic pleasure, and enjoying the building of that link. As she again begins to struggle against his gentle caresses, he steps back and swings the crop around, bringing it down hard upon one of her full, beautiful, breasts, above her nipple, sparing her that particular pain. For now. Ten more lashes later, he speaks again. "If you have not already figured it out, little one, struggling against my will brings you pain, submitting, pleasure. It is your choice."

As she hangs, panting, he reaches out to her again. He pulls her against him. She remains still, and he holds her gently, feeling the pounding of her heart, like a trapped bird fluttering against the bars of her cage. He comforts her, offering soft words of consolation and endearment as her tears fall hotly onto his bare chest.

Slowly, her tears cease and breathing quiets, weariness overcoming her fear. He uncuffs her wrists, holding her arms above her as he slowly lowers her to the softly carpeted floor. Once on the floor, he slowly lowers her arms, her tears renewed as muscles cramp from the release of long tension. He gently massages the muscles of her arms and shoulders, relieving the painful cramping as she settles against him, unable to hold herself up. He pulls a blanket over her, covering her nakedness, providing warmth and comfort. He softly strokes her long blonde hair as she lies against him. Exhausted, she finally slept.

She awoke suddenly, fully alert and aware as sunlight struck across her eyes. The realization that she could see again was an intense relief. As she took note of her surroundings, she was surprised to learn the gag had been removed and she was not bound. She was on her side, held in the arms of a stranger. Slowly, the memories of the last few hours returned, and with them, her fear. As she tried to slip away, the arms around her tightened. Remembering the lesson of the night before, she stopped struggling and let him hold her. Tense and afraid, not knowing what to expect, she lay there next to the stranger that was molding her into she knew not what.

Slowly his hands began to explore, running up her arm and across her shoulder, gently brushing the hair away from her neck. He leaned closer and kissed her neck, up towards her chin and then back down to her shoulder. Her skin shivered and prickled under his touch, responding to the feel of his lips upon her skin. He watched amusedly as she tried to hide the fact that she was becoming breathless, only to be betrayed by the flush of arousal, which brought a rosy glow to the flawless ivory of her face and upper chest.

He slid his hand down her shoulder, across to her chest, gently rubbing small, comforting circles across her upper chest. When he was satisfied that she was not going to struggle, he moved slowly down to her breasts, caressing and kneading as he had the night before. He expected her to resist, but was pleased when she did not. "Good girl. My pretty is a fast learner. That is a becoming trait, and will serve you well."

Her muscles were tense springs, awaiting release, but still she did not fight him as he began to softly pinch her nipples, rolling them between his fingers and tugging gently. She moaned softly, and her voice came out in a husky whisper, "Please...Please, no. Don't do this, please. Just let me go!"

"Little dove, this IS going to happen. I can make it pleasing for you, if you will only let me. And when you address me, you will call me Master. Relax, little one, and let me please you." His voice was soft and soothing, his hands gentle but inexorable. She began to cry once again as he rolled her onto her back, exploring every mountain and valley of her body with hands and lips.

He kissed down her stomach as his hands slid up her sides, fingers playing upon her breasts and nipples. As his lips passed her softly indented belly button, he leaned back, watching for a moment as fear and passion played across her face. "This will take only as long as you make it, my little dove. It can be over quickly, or we can spend all day here, just like this. I will be pleasured either way. When you have allowed me to bring you, it will be done. There is only one thing I require of you. You must ask me for permission to orgasm. You must say exactly this: 'May I please cum for you, Master?' Do you understand?"

He took her renewed tears as understanding, and bent down to slowly kiss along her legs, working his way up her thighs. His hands worked ahead of his lips, softly stroking and caressing her legs. Her thighs trembled under his hand, and as he approached his eventual destination, the sweet musk of her arousal tickled his olfactory senses. He softly brushed his fingers up the crease between leg and pelvis on either side, enjoying her sudden intake of breath and the twitch of muscles. He teased along the soft flesh of her labia, watching as moisture began to seep out of her swollen nether lips. Finally, his long, deft fingers brushed along the very opening of her womanhood, spreading the moisture along her lips. He stopped to bring his fingers to his face, smelling them, sucking them, savoring her desire.

After a few moments, he returned to his task, dipping his fingers into her suddenly, sliding them along her until he found the hard little nub of her clitoris. She cried out as he began to rub two fingers along her swollen nub, wet and slippery with her own passion. Though her mind told her it was wrong and she should hate what this man was doing to her, her body responded readily to every single movement of his fingers and touch of his lips.

She wriggled and squirmed beneath him, whimpering and moaning, as his fingers found sensitive areas to explore and arouse. He slowly worked his middle finger down, finding the entrance for which he searched. He sank the finger in, as deeply as he could, while continuing the stimulation of her clit by flicking his thumb across it.

"No...no, please....no....no!" She whimpered as her body began to tense again, preparing for the ultimate pleasure. As suddenly as he had started, he stopped. She sobbed and begged, relieved, frustrated, ashamed and confused. She knew not for what she begged, but beg she did.

"You didn't ask, pretty. You can't climax until you ask." He kissed her softly, hands playing along her breasts, allowing her time to cool down slightly before beginning the tortuous climb towards orgasm again. When he felt she was ready to continue her newest lesson, he slid his hands down her stomach, back towards her throbbing pussy. His fingers once again found her throbbing clitoris and began working over it, stroking and flicking, pinching and pulling gently. He leaned down and laid a kiss on the top of her clit, licking her from the opening of her soaked slit up to her clit, tongue playing lightly across her swollen, heated flesh.

She whimpered at the feel of his tongue on her, and, pleased with her reactions, he began to lick. He switched between long, firm swipes to little flickering movements of his tongue. He spelled "Little dove," "Master's pet," and other nicknames across her clit with his tongue. She began to shake again, pleading.

His own voice is husky with desire, his arousal peaking with hers. "What is that, pretty? I don't understand what you want. You know it will not stop until you have had an orgasm. You must be aching for release by now. Your entire body screams it. Just say the words, love, and this all stops now."

Crying, confused by her reactions to his domination over her, his power, she closes her eyes to shut out the sight of him. "Please.....Please may I come...."

"Please what pretty?" His fingers never stop moving across her, playing across her body as if across the strings of a harp.

A little louder, her resolve to finish this becoming stronger, she says again, "Please may I come for you?"

"Please may I come for you WHAT? Who am I to you, little dove?"

Turning her head away from him in defeat, she whispers. "Please may I come for you....Master?"

"Good girl!" he exclaims, as he redoubles his efforts, his fingers sinking deep within her pussy, his thumb playing across her clit. He leans down to kiss one of her erect and sensitive nipples, licking circles around it. His teeth brush across it as he finally sucks it into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and gently biting. She cries out at the additional stimuli and her sobbing breaths stop. Her body is suddenly in overload, her hips matching the movements of his fingers diving in and out of her pussy, the orgasm consuming all voluntary thought and action.

After leading her through her climax, he decides to relieve some of his own frustration. He kneels between her legs, pulling her hips closer to him as she catches her breath. She had stopped fighting him long ago, and now it seemed as if she were almost anticipating his penetration of her. "My turn, now, little dove, and then it's over for today."

She watched him lean down over her, struck by the strength in his arms, shoulders, and chest, knowing he was iron with a velvet covering. As he came to her, she raised her legs and hips to meet him. "It's going to happen anyways. I can't stop it. But maybe it's not all bad. If you can't stop them...Join them," she thought to herself. He smiled down at her, seeing the seeing the surrender in her eyes and feeling it in the easing tension of her muscles. He slowly slid the hard length of his manhood inside her, inch by inch.

She was hot, wet, and tight. Tighter than he anticipated. He moaned with pleasure as he finally worked the last of himself inside. She whimpered in pained pleasure as he filled every inch of her, buried to the hilt. She could feel his balls nestling against her ass as he leaned in to her. Shifting his weight slightly, he began to slowly move within her, pulling himself out only to push back in again.

She moved with him, their tempo building slowly at first, then faster and faster as she adjusted to his size. After moments, they were moving together, their bodies entwined, breaths coming faster and faster. She began to moan and whimper with his movements, her body tensing as she neared another climax. He pumped in and out of her, his muscles tensing, balls tightening as he neared his own orgasm. To his pleased surprise, he soon heard her voice, soft with whimpering desire, "Please...please...May I come for you please, Master?"

With that one question, he grunted his permission. "Yes, little dove. Come for your Master." He exploded within her as he felt her inner muscles spasm around him, milking him. For a few moments after their orgasms subsided, he laid atop her, catching his breath and allowing his heart rate to slow.

He rolled off of her when he finally could, taking her into his arms and holding her close to him. Instead of the expected struggles, she snuggled down into his arms, resting after the ordeal. He sighed softly, contentedly, then whispered into her ear. "Do you understand, now, little dove? Do you understand why you are mine? And that I will never do anything to hurt or break my treasured possession?"

She smiled softly, surprised at her submission, but pleased because she knew he was correct. "Yes, Master. I understand now. I am yours, because I was meant to be. I belong with you, TO you. And I know that, though you may be stern and discipline me when needed, you will never do anything to truly hurt me. I am your most treasured possession, and would be worthless if broken. I am yours, Master, from this day forward."

She sighed softly, in exhausted happiness, and soon fell asleep, wrapped in his arms, listening to the strong steady beat of his heart.