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As she awoke she marveled at the softness and coolness of the sheets enveloping her. The warm soft sun shown through the sheer curtains, and as she rubbed her eyes, it dawned on her that she wasn’t quite sure where she was….

As she looked around the room and her eyes fell on him, it all came back to her. Dennis sat in the boudoir chair watching her with fiery eyes of interest. They had been casual friends for a while, and her drunken admission to him in conversation at a party the last night that she was into [tag]submission[/tag] had gotten her an offer to spend Saturday with him. She knew him well enough to not refuse.

As she stretched he moved from the chair and silently moved towards her, taking something from behind his back as he neared her. Winding the piece of black cloth in his hands, he surprised her into stillness by placing it across her face and into her mouth, gently tying it in back, tight enough so that it dug in between her jaws a bit. Stretching out his hand in an offer of support he raised her to her feet, taking a moment to look at her in the wonderfully soft and silky teddy she had worn to bed. With a flicker of his eye and a quick wave of his hand he grasped the plunging neckline and ripped the silk right down the middle, allowing her breasts to bulge out and showing at the bottom of the rip her dark mound of pubic hair. He chuckled at the surprise in her eyes, and saw fit to speak to her.

“I know what you like, I can read it in your eyes, they are a very clear window to your soul. I can tell what you want, what you need. I happen to have complimenting needs, desires, and wants, and as so will do my best to fulfill yours while fulfilling mine. You will have little say in what goes on here, although if you feel that you cannot and will not take any more of a specific situation, then make it clear to me. Do not falsify the end of your wits or you will be punished for it.”

“Shall we begin?”

She nodded a silent yes to his awaiting gaze.

As he walked around her, he grabbed the low cut back of her teddy and ripped it down the back, and with a swift pull broke the snaps at the crotch and let the shredded garment fall to the floor. He paused to look at her shape, very soft and lovely, her milky skin, and warm brown hair. “Follow me,” he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder and walked out of the room. She wasn’t sure where they were going, or if anyone else was in the large house…

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After the Gulf War the Corps had no place to put me. I made the error of accepting a promotion to Major in July, I figured this war was going to happen, I might as well be in charge. I should have stayed at the comfortable rank of Captain, but I guess I wanted to be a big shot. The war was over, I was sitting around waiting for the next thing to do. Col. McBride called me in and told me that I had been RIF’d (Reduction In Force) I was out of a job. 18 1/2 years in the U.S. Marine Corps down the fucking drain.

After some soul searching I decided it was time to go back to school and work on my Doctorate. I fucking hate school, but I hate hanging around looking for something to do, even more. So, I ended up in Texas. Big fucking deal. Uncle Sam has to pay the freight so who cares. I end up living in an apartment complex full of snot-nosed mama’s boy types. I had never seen such a bunch of weird fuckers in my life. 12 weeks on the Island and I could make men out of these little homo bastards…or I’d end up killing them. After all, that’s what Marines do, they kill, and they die. It’s a great job. But this Marine is going to be smart now, he’s gonna be a P H fucking D.

I buckled down and went to work. I had a mission, I had a goal, I had no choice but to finish, and finish I will, in true Marine Corps fashion. Things got better, I was not so repulsed by the assholes who walked around wearing sweatshits that say B.U.M. Equipment and wearing their fucking hats backwards. What the fuck exactly is B.U.M. equipment? Is that some shit that the fudge-packers use? And if you can’t wear your cover squared away, get rid of the fucker, and get a fucking haircut too!

Let me tell you a little more about Major Warren Mansfield. I was born to be a Marine. I spent my lifetime getting to where I am today. I worked hard, I played every sport there was, and I fought every asshole in my school just so I could learn to live with pain. I went to college and got my degree, then off to the University of Science Music and Culture (U.S.M.C.) 12 weeks at Parris Island, the best, most memorable days of my life. I was hit, I was kicked, I was slapped, punched and pissed on. I ate constantino wire and pissed napalm. I learned to do what I was bred to do. I learned how to be a killing machine. One year later I lead my troops into a small village in Viet Nam, and I got to see first hand what a blown-up skull looks like. Sure I was a young Lieutenant, but I felt like a seasoned war dog by the time we secured that little piece of commie heaven.

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Slowly, he began removing her clothing, his hand gently caressing her soft skin. She moaned lightly as his hands reached beneath her top and massaged her breasts. Her legs parted instinctively as he explored beneath her lacy briefs. She glanced into the mirror above them and studied the immense contrast between her petite body against his naked Adonis form.

Soon her clothing lay in a crumpled pile beside the bed. The room was hot and steamy, and their bodies glistened with moisture. He stood in front of her, held her hands above her head, and told her to kneel down. As she descended, her tongue quietly explored his muscular chest. Lower and lower she went, until her mouth engulfed the tip of his erect manhood.

He moaned with delight as he held her arms apart and shackled them to fur-laced handcuffs dangling from the ceiling. He removed himself from her, took her nylons from the floor, and gagged her. The ankle shackles on the edges of the bed quickly held her legs apart. He then lotioned her body and his with baby oil, his fingers exploring her curves and penetrating her crevices of desire. Her sounds of ecstasy were getting louder, but still muffled by her gag.

He took an artificial phallus from the hot water, and beginning at her mouth, slowly moved it downwards. It moved past her neck, down between her breasts, and past her navel. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the piercing of her womanhood. Instead, he only slightly parted her now moist lips. Slowly but firmly he inserted the warm, pulsating rod into her other orifice. Her gasp of surprise soon turned into sounds of desire as he plunged it deeper and deeper while several fingers of his other hand stimulated her tunnel of love. Her body squirmed in pleasure, but her movements were futile against the chains that bound her.

When she had been filled, he again moved in front of her and positioned himself. He entered her slowly, savoring how easy her juices have made the entry. Her breathing and gasping were getting heavier, in rhythm with his powerful thrusts. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her breasts mercilessly and pulling and twisting the phallus stuffed into her.

Her arms and legs fought a useless battle against the shackles that held her open to his pounding, now faster and deeper. She thrashed about wildly, becoming one with the chains that bind her. She exists only to please as he ravages her with ever increasing intensity. Her screams of joy crashed through the ball tied tightly between her lips.

The room was spinning as she threw her head back and looked up. In the dream-like image above she saw a slave, bound and gagged, under complete control of her master. He was rewarding her virginity with the most sinful pleasure. He too was in a spinning room, his body tight and shone with sweat. All his essence was entering and leaving her. Finally, with a yell of triumph, he shot into her deepest regions, his juice mixing with hers. She let out a last, exhausted moan, overwhelmed by the fires that pierced her.

He held her close for a moment, then withdrew from her. He took the second phallus from the hot water and with one hand rammed it completely into her while the other pushed the first all the way in. Through the gag she begged him to stop. A leather strap was tied around her waist, and a second strap looped from front to back. The rods that continued to heat and vibrate are now held in. With another series of straps her breasts were held up and tied. He then took three small chains, all connected at one end. At the ends of the chains are clamps. Two clamps grip her nipples, while the third grips her clitoris. He turns off the lights and leaves the room, to attend to his next slave.

She is now left in the darkness, still chained and gagged, with the rods moving deeper into her and the clamps tightening their grip. Her body glistened like an angel, her arms and legs held apart as if she was in flight. She writhed and moaned uselessly, feeling the build-up of the tidal wave about to wash over her. As moans of delight drifted in from outside, she closed her eyes to fantasize what must be happening in the other rooms.

–end–

anonymous author

Once again Jim found himself climbing the stairs to Carol’s 27th Street apartment. Several weeks ago he had attempted to wrestle Carol, but only ended up submitting to painful holds – the dreaded Boston crab, a combination body scissors/headlock where Carol completely shut down his breathing, and a deadly sleeper that sent him temporarily to dreamland. Despite his poor performance in Carol’s clutches, Jim was thrilled with the experience in retrospect. His life-long fantasy of being physically dominated and tortured by a beautiful woman had certainly been realized in spades. Jim had made a return appointment with Carol on the spot, and today he was keeping that date.

The beautiful Carol greeted Jim warmly and ushered him into the apartment, which was equipped with wrestling mats as before. This time the six-foot blonde was dressed in a shiny spandex “catsuit,” which left little concerning her anatomy to the imagination. She was so luscious that Jim’s palms seemed to itch in his eagerness to get his hands on her.

“You like?” she cooed, turning and showing off her body. “I just got this little number last week. It’s great for wrestling – guys get so involved in looking at me that they forget what we’re doing. Makes it real easy to trap ’em!”

Jim gulped, imagining how he would soon be trapped that way!

“You know, Jim,” added Carol, “you really didn’t do very well against me last time. Were you really trying?”

“I sure was! You’re just a damned good wrestler. Anyway, what excites me the most is being forced to submit to your holds. I’m not really into defeating a woman – I enjoy being dominated.”

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place! Like I think I told you last time, I really get off on using my body to make a man beg for mercy! Tell you what – I’ll stress really punishing you today. How’s that?”

“Sounds great! Just don’t kill me!”

“What? And lose a good customer – No way! What I will do, though, is pour on the pressure until you say the magic word. Let’s use ‘mercy’ as a safe word. Don’t forget it!”

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I flew into LAX and when I came through the gate I saw Brittany standing there. She was even more beautiful than her pictures had allowed me to believe. I approached her and the closer I got to her the more intimidating she became. I watched her face light up in a smile that I interpreted as one which said, ‘this is going to be easier than I thought to break this one into little pieces.’ We hugged and I thought she was going to break my ribs or knock me out right there in the airport; but, she eased up and whispered in my ear, “that was just a little sample of my arm strength. I’m going to destroy you with them and then break you in half with my long, strong legs. You belong to my muscles.” I could only smile and respond as any male would when that close to a beautiful, powerful woman.

We walked down to get my baggage and Brittany made sure that she walked in front of me so I could watch the flex of those gorgeous legs of hers. We talked while waiting for my bags and she would verbally tease me every chance she got. My bags finally came out and I pulled them off of the conveyor belt. They were heavy and I suggested we find a porter to take them out for us. Brittany said, “don’t be silly, I’m stronger than any of them ever thought of being. I’ll carry the bag you think is so heavy; do you think you can manage the camera?” And she picked up my bag as if it were empty and off we went. When we had the bags loaded into the car she took my hand and placed it on her arm then she flexed. The muscle exploded and my hand could not fit around it. Brittany said, “this is what a real arm feels like and you are going to be feeling it a lot around your scrawny little neck and weak body as I crush you into unconsciousness.”

We arrived at my hotel, checked in and the bell man took us to the room. I had gotten a suite as Brittany had instructed me to. After the bell man had been tipped and he left Brittany walked over to me; wearing her 4″ heels she stood about 6’2″. I looked up into her smiling face as she raised her right arm and flexed her muscle in my face. She then grabbed a handful of hair and wrapped her arm around my neck in a headlock. “Put your hand on my arm and feel how hard my female muscle gets as I knock you out.” I touched her arm and the next thing I knew was Brittany straddling my body as I lay on the floor. When she saw me open my eyes she laughed and said, “You only lasted 3 seconds but I won’t put you out so fast from now on. I want you to squirm and cry and beg some. Now sit up and put your neck between my thighs. You may feel them as I crush you out again.”

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