Control Is but a Breath Away Ch. 01

She stared down at her toes on which she now pivoted. Her mind wandered to earlier in the day when she relaxed in a comfy chair at the nail salon while a sweet Korean girl attended to her feet. She had sat high on a platform, looking down on the girl bathing and massaging her feet. It was somewhat empowering, up on her perch, to watch someone perform a task once thought of as humbling and even demeaning. The young woman was pretty, although very thin and flat-chested. She wondered what it would be like to tie the girl's hands behind her back and force the delicate beauty to suck her large, round tits. To hear the young girl whimper with fear yet look into her almond shaped eyes and see untamed excitement sparkling in those dark, brown orbs.

Yet, now she strained to hold herself up, to relieve the burning in her arms stretched out to her sides, above her head. She stared down at her newly painted toes, glistening like red jewels. Her shoulders ached. Her mouth was dry from the cloth gag pressing her tongue against her bottom teeth. Her hands hung limply down from wrists tightly bound in leather cuffs. Now she was in a most humbling position.

Only an hour earlier she had been taking care of the mundane task of folding laundry when she received a phone call. Her Dom simply commanded her to go to the basement, undress, and wait for him, that he would be home within the hour. The tone of his voice had been stern and to the point. No hello, how was your day, I love you, good bye. Just a simple instruction to which she immediately complied. She had waited anxiously, trying not to fidget as she knelt in the middle of the dimly lit room. Her emotions ran the gamut of elated anticipation to anxious fear. She had plenty of time to consider what would happen when her Dom arrived home.

Lately, her Dom had been thinking about where their relationship was headed. He adored and loved her so much. He reminisced that a few months into their relationship, just after a rather energetic afternoon of making love, she had shyly whispered to him how much it excited her when he was more assertive. He had grinned at her timid description, wondering how wanton this proper woman might turn out to be. Up to that point their sex had been satisfying but conventional. Her surprising little admission intrigued him. He held her tightly and smiled to himself thinking of how she had not usually been very verbal but this time had cried out encouragement for him to fuck her faster and harder. In their wild frenzy they had fucked so hard his cock felt tender and he knew she must have been sore. But she did not complain and snuggled up to him afterward, practically purring in her contented state. After that day he had contemplated their time together and he had to admit she had a tendency toward acquiescence in all things concerning their relationship. She was not a pushover, she had no problem speaking her mind, yet she was respectful of his thoughts and opinions and their decisions on various matters were consensual. She was an intelligent, funny, warm-hearted woman who pleased him greatly.

After that their sex sometimes took a darker path as he started to push her. He could have simply asked her what she thought her boundaries might be. But it was more interesting to test her, taunt her, and allow her to discover submission on her own. For the most part she was enthusiastically compliant. She loved being bound, breast play, both rough and gentle, and sucking his cock. Especially when he ordered her to do it at the most unexpected times! She even surprised herself when he introduced her to flogging finding that to be extremely arousing. She was not so keen on being spanked yet submitted to it knowing how much it excited him. One day he bought a crop and when he showed it to her she immediately objected to it, professing the intense sting would be too much for her. She much preferred the flogger's thud and the slow, burning sting the leather ribbons inflicted. He just grinned at her and told her not to be so hasty in her opinion of the crop, reminding her there had been other things she had been reluctant to try only to discover she thoroughly enjoyed them. Of course, they still enjoyed conventional sex but his sweet lover always eagerly applied herself when he desired to be "more assertive" as she liked to phrase it.

Now, as he drove home from the driving range he thought of each ball he struck likening the action to whipping her plump, round ass with his crop. He had installed a couple of hooks in a ceiling beam in the basement a few weeks ago with the intent of restraining her in a more vulnerable position. It would be an interesting challenge for her, as well as for him. He would enjoy free access to every inch of her body and devising new ways to stimulate her. She'd immediately noticed the hooks after he'd installed them. She'd warily asked him about them and he truthfully told her he planned to hang her by her wrists from them and enjoy her luscious body. She laughed half-heartedly, unsure as to whether or not he was kidding. When he just gave her a thoughtful glance she knew he was serious.

"Oh, no, please. I can't be tied up that way. I won't do it," she had said anxiously. "Please, Sir, I don't want to do it!" She had only been tied to the bed or a chair before. She was more secure at having some type of support for her body, as well as some part of her always being protected. The thought of dangling from the ceiling thus leaving her entire body completely exposed unnerved her and threatened her self confidence.

"You won't do it?" he asked looking at her with disbelief that she would challenge him in this issue. If she was scared of trying something she had always approached him to discuss it. But she had never blatantly rejected his wishes. Seeing his frown she dropped her eyes and felt immediate regret for blurting out her refusal. She knew better, she knew she could talk about anything he asked of her. She knew she was in trouble now. He sat down and stared at her for a few moments letting the realization of her defiance settle in her mind. "Strip and come here, now," he said too calmly for her comfort. She was quick to disrobe and kneel before him.

"I didn't ask you if you wanted to do it, did I?" he asked glaring down at her. Her stomach tightened as she stared balefully down at the floor. She whispered a remorseful 'no' not trusting herself to speak aloud. "Are you going to be the one who determines what I can or cannot do?" She shook her head and felt the tears well up in her eyes. "To whom do you belong?"

"You," the word rushed from her lips.

"Who am I?" his voice was tense with irritation.

"You are my Dom," she whispered. She yelped as he abruptly yanked her up across his lap and slammed his hand across her bottom.

"That's right. I am your Dom and you are my sub. Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?" He spanked her again, harder this time. He looked down at his handprint on her pale cheek and felt his palm tingling.

"No! No!" she wailed. "You've never given me any reason, ever, to distrust you! I'm so sorry!" She writhed beneath him as he continued to spank her ass and the backs of her thighs. She screeched and wiggled on his lap as his large, firm hand repeatedly assailed her rosy cheeks. He finally released her and she slid to the floor and crouched at his feet sobbing and feeling pitiful. There was certainly no chance of talking her way out of those hooks, now.

He was angry at having to punish her. Yet she had to be put in her place. She had to understand that out and out refusal was not allowed. He knew she was scared of what would happen when she was tied to the hooks. But if things became too much for her she had her safe word knew he would honor it.

"Go and get yourself cleaned up. We'll talk about the hooks, later." He stood up and went to his office to calm down. He knew she might be recalcitrant regarding the hooks at first but playing with her in this fashion had been on his mind for quite some time. He knew she was up to it; she was stronger than she realized. During the weeks that followed her spanking they did talk about it but she didn't have much to say other than she was willing to try her best for him. She loved him dearly and it meant everything to her to please him. Once, as they lay in bed just about to fall asleep she had asked why he had not told her about his desire to 'string her up' as she referred to it, before installing the hooks. He reminded her that he would not always give her previews of how chose to use her. She belonged to him, he would never harm her, and that was all she needed to know.

As he pulled into the driveway he thought of that episode a few weeks ago. After their post-spanking talk he let the whole issue rest for a while. He was sure she was wondering when he would take her to the basement and secure her to the hooks but she seemed to accept that it would eventually happen. Or perhaps she was avoiding thinking bout it. Yet, because he wanted her true and natural reaction when the time came he did not want to give her any indication of that time. It would just happen when it happened.

As she kneeled in the cool room she sighed softly wondering how much time had elapsed since his call. He had said he'd be home in an hour but she had not looked at the clock when she went down to the basement and had no idea if she'd been there 10 minutes or 40 minutes; in anxious anticipation, it felt as if she'd been there for more than an hour. She stretched and in doing so she tilted her head back and looked up and saw the hooks. She closed her eyes and felt her heart pound in her chest. 'This is it, he's going to tie me to those hooks and I will be completely open and at his mercy.' She had tried not to think about it much after her spanking. Sometimes she even wondered if he had changed his mind as he stopped bringing the subject up. She thought she had given herself to him in all ways. Yet she knew that was not true. The mattress under her back or knees, or the chair beneath her bottom, had afforded her the perception that she was able to hold back just a little part of herself, symbolically as well as emotionally. To be honest, it was her own stubborn pride that was holding her back, not the bed or chair. She flinched slightly at the sound of the back door closing with a bang then his footsteps as he came down the stairs.

"Face away from me," he called to her as he entered the room. She turned her back to the door and pictured in her mind what he saw as he came in. His naked sub. Short, dark brown, wavy hair. Soft shoulders and pale back, arms straight at her sides. Round, plump ass resting on her bare feet tucked beneath her ass. "Hands behind your head."

She laced her hands together behind her head and took a deep, steadying breath. She could hear movements and was dying to see what he was doing but dared not tempt punishment by turning around. Then he wrapped her wrists in soft, leather cuffs and helped her to stand up. He quickly stretched one of her arms upward. There was not going to be preliminary fondling, no sweet, mood enhancing foreplay. Feeling the tug of the rope from the ring in her cuff up to the hook she suppressed a whimper. She was so nervous her stomach tightened and she had to concentrate on breathing normally. Then the other arm, extended, slowly being pulled up by the rope through the hook and tightly secured. She felt his hands reach around from behind and softly touch her breasts. His fingertips brushed across her nipples and to her surprise she realized they were already erect and ready for play, before he had even touched them! He slid his hand down her belly and in between her legs, fingers probing for signs of arousal but her pussy seemed to be on time-delay, and while soft and warm, had not yet responded by releasing any lubrication.

"Whore, slut, bitch. You are all those things for me." The harsh whisper settled over her causing her heart to pound. She shivered listening to his disembodied voice as her eyes darted from side to side looking for her Dom, wanting to see his face but nervous of seeing what expression he wore. Her arms pulled up on either side of her head did not allow for much movement. The last thing she saw were her shiny red toes pressed into the soft carpet. Then darkness surrounded her as a blindfold was gently placed over her eyes and secured behind her head. Then she felt something pressing against her lips. "Open up. No cock for your sweet mouth, not yet, anyway." He pulled a soft cloth into her mouth and tightly tied it off at the base of her skull; her mouth tugged into an obscene grimace. "Since you cannot speak a safe word do you remember what the sign is?" He watched as the index and middle fingers on both her hands formed v's.

"Good girl." He kissed her soft cheek then pulled away. She could still feel his heat, though, wishing he would embrace her, just for a moment. "Tonight I'm going to use you, push you, and take you to the extreme." He slid the crop's length over her skin, softly stroking her stomach, buttocks, and back. Then he lightly struck her letting her get used to the feel. For several minutes he continued to gently strike her, warming her up. He grinned as she seemed relaxed and accepting. For a while he let her think this was the extent of his play and listened to her occasional soft moans when he hit her more sensitive areas. She was enjoying it entirely too much.

With no warning white hot pain blazed across her upper back as the crop suddenly slashed against her soft, pale flesh. She shrieked loudly into the cloth tightly binding her mouth. Then another line of fire burned just above her ass cheeks. She screeched into her gag, choking, and breathing hard through her flared nostrils. She grunted as she felt her nipples roughly stretched out and then squeezed by metal clamps biting down into her flesh. Tears sprung up in her sightless eyes as she groaned and let her head fall back.

Something warm and slim reached up between her thighs and delicately traced along her pussy lips. With no introduction of teasing foreplay his finger thrust up into her cunt and rammed repeatedly into her tight and juiceless hole. Her pussy was barely moist, not yet ready for such an intrusion, no matter that the invader was insubstantial in size or thickness. She pulled her thighs together and tried to resist the rough assault of her tender pussy. As she tried to swivel her hips away she was treated to an incredibly sharp sting to her soft, round bottom. The crop struck again and she grunted and jerked her hips, dancing on her toes to dodge the blows but to no avail. The whipping branded her with several vivid red streaks until she relented and opened her thighs, spreading her feet slightly apart. She stood on the balls of her feet feeling dizzy with pain.

The heat lingered unkindly, flowing like scalding water across her ass. His finger slid between her cheeks, pressed against her anus, then smoothly trailed between her lips and softly stroked her sensitive slit. Each time the tip of his finger tickled her clit the nerves in that hard little bud sent compulsory signals to her cunt coercing it to twitch and grow damp.

"You're getting wet." His gruff whisper was close, the breath of her tormenter softly puffing against her ear. She was shocked to realize it was true, feeling his finger sliding with slippery ease from her weeping hole to her clit, lusciously antagonizing her. "Sweet pain slut. You like the burn and the sting," the masculine voice gently taunted her.

She shivered with indignation at being aroused by the keenly sharp bite of the crop on her tender skin. Her fear of the crop was realized, it hurt worse than the flogger and she was not sure she could stand more of it. Yet, the vexing pleasure of his fingertip, first worrying her engorged clit then sliding in and out of her juicy hole, was sapping her willfulness. She wanted to scream and flail her arms and fists to fight back at the one who was bringing her down, slowly defeating her will to resist. But her body betrayed her and responded to the pain of her flesh and the pleasure of her pulsing clit. Her Dom was the cause of her confliction and her mind whirled as her body responded out of her control.

She moaned behind her gag a she felt the bite of the clamps simultaneously gripping each of her nipples as he pulled on the chain. He let the cold chain fall against her diaphragm and it jingled as it pulled down distorting the shape of her captured nipples. He'd added a weight and it softly bounced against her. Ah...this was what she knew, the kind of pain to which she could relate and filled her with hungry need. This was the pain that melted any resistance that might surface in her mind. She moaned softly feeling the searing sting slicing all the way down to her clit.

Her Dom stood back and observed her shoulders sag a bit, her body relax, and give in to the sensation burning from her tits to her pussy. He smiled at her predictable reaction, knowing how much she loved breast play, giving her a slight reprieve from the crop. Then he reached forward and pressed the handle of the crop against her inner thigh, "Keep your legs apart, slut. I want all of you open to me."

She shifted her feet wider apart and tensed, immediately worried if he would use the crop on her pussy. She was surprised to suddenly feel his lips kissing her throat, working his way along her collar bones, then down to her breasts and he bit and sucked her soft, white flesh. Such sweet agony, feeling his delicious kisses and bites, wondering when she would feel the vicious bite of his crop. He didn't keep her waiting for long as he leaned back and let her have another taste of the crop's sting alternating between the underside of each breast and her inner thighs. Her muffled scream sang with the whir of the crop cutting through the air then the smack of it landing on her flesh. Her body was burning, inside and out, as the tears soaked her blindfold. How much was she willing to take? She didn't like it, not at all. Yet when he paused to reach his fingers between her swollen pussy lips she could feel how slick her slit was with copious fluid seeping from her twitching cunt.

He whipped her tits, streaking them with red, and delighted in the way the welts swelled up on her alabaster flesh. Her body flinched with each moan and grunt from her throat. She desperately wished she could beg him to let her do anything else to stop the assault of his crop. He moved behind her and lined her plump, white ass cheeks with straight, scarlet streaks matching on either side. He worked the backs of her thighs as well, as her body jerked and her feet could no longer hold their place. He took a deep breath and stood back to look at her. Her breath burst forcefully from her flared nostrils as she stood there, trembling with pain. Every nerve in her body sizzled. Her pale breasts, stomach, thighs, back, and buttocks were striated with crimson welts. His cock felt strangled in his pants and he imagined her hot mouth engulfing his long shaft, sucking him to the back of her throat. The thought of his cock buried in her mouth as he ran his fingertips over her welts, sometimes pinching and tickling, feeling her face jerk and press against his groin, made his pulse pound with excitement.

He untied the gag and she sucked in a deep breath of air, releasing it with a strained groan. God, she hurt, she was on fire. He held a glass of water to her lips and she gulped it down, some of it spilling over her chin and dribbling to her chest, trickling down her breasts, wetting her tortured nipples. He glanced down and noted how dark her buds were, bulging out between the teeth of the clamps.

"Take a deep breath and hold it," he instructed as he reached up and released the tight, metal clasps. She grunted; the air rushed from her lungs, as if she'd been punched. Her nipples burned as the blood began to circulate with in the tender confines of her flesh. He leaned down and licked the drops of water from her salty skin then softly flicked her raw buds with the tip of his tongue. He engulfed one nipple and areola with his mouth and gently sucked, nursing her bruised flesh.