SirSTRYKER
Posts: 284
Joined: 8/15/2004
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THE SWEET STING OF PAIN
Since her youth, she’d showed submission. Each member of her family would unwittingly use and abuse her. No, no not physically, emotionally. Her older brother often had her, not their mother iron his shirts when he had a date. Another older sister often had her run errands for her or go to the mall for a particular piece of jewelry she required. Even her own parents noticed, but figured that their youngest daughter was merely being nice to them.
When she grew older and entered college, she roomed in a quad with three other young women. It was not long before they noticed how she would follow behind each of them, picking up their dropped clothing and placing it in the hamper. How she would make their beds for them, clean the room, ensure the bathroom remained spotless and other such, usually shared duties. Nothing sexual ever took place during the four years these women shared their college experience, yet the submissive cravings slowly grew inside her, even without her knowing it.
At 24, she once accepted an invitation to a party from a friend from work. He had noticed her submission at once in the office. She had hardly worked for the accounting firm a month before He’d noticed how she would double check the work of others without being asked. He watched as she would always check the out baskets of others in her row, as she would get up to take her tally sheets to the managers desk, she would also take those of her coworkers. He noticed and waited. Waited for the right time to pounce. To harvest such open yet untrained submission.
He was not about to pounce upon the girl as a tiger in the wild. That was not His style. He had simply planned a small gathering of His friends, and made sure to drop an invitation into her in basket, complete with all the details and address. He did sign it and when she read it, as He knew she would, she arose from her desk and straightway stood before His.
“Thank you Frank,” head lowered but she didn’t quite understand why herself, “I will be glad to attend you gathering. See you Friday night and thanks again,” she beamed brightly.
“Your welcome Natasha, I shall look forward to seeing you away from the office, girl.”
She didn’t quite understand the meaning of His use of the word “girl.” At 24 she’d not considered herself a girl in quite sometime, yet she simply smiled and softly walked back to her desk. His devious gaze never left her body, especially the ass that He already knew would soon be His to control, as well as her mind.
Friday night at 8pm sharp Natasha arrived. She was dressed in a black skirt with a soft pink white blouse, heels and stockings. Her hair, which she usually wore in a tight bun at work, was now hanging long and flowed below her shoulders. She was a work of art for the eyes to behold.
When He opened the door to her knock and escorted her in she was surprised to find only Him inside.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, “am I early Frank? I’ve brought some wine for the party. I guess I misread the time on your invitation.”
“Not at all little one, you are quite prompt as directed. It is I who have adjusted this evenings events and decided I’d rather entertain you alone.”
Her face flushed. She was both flattered and amazed at this turn of events. She took the crook of His extended elbow and allowed Him to lead her to the den. He took the wine from her hands and placed it on a table and pointed to a wooden chair in the middle of the room near the fireplace. This is where she obediently sat, even though there was more than enough soft leather furnishings to sit upon.
Frank sat opposite her and watched as He sat in a large leather chair. He had already had two glasses and a bucket of ice on a silver tray beside His chair, yet He took her wine and opened it and only poured one glass. She spoke not a word as He kept His eyes glued into hers and sipped the drink without speaking.
Nervously, she tried to escape His gaze. She looked around the room. Glanced at her shoes, then up to the paintings on the walls but ultimately she looked up at Him. Still, His piercing dark eyes burned deep down into her soul. It had stayed this way for nearly fifteen minutes. Him in His soft chair, and her sitting back in the hard straight back wooden one. She could not move, though she felt awkward in the silence, and her palms began to sweat. Her heart began to race under the stare of His eyes. She lowered hers in a vain attempt to escape but soon found herself compelled somehow to return to them. The control they seemed to take of her was scary yet comforting. Finally He broke the silence. His voice, deep and commanding shook her entire being.
“I know of you little one even more than you do of yourself. I could tell from the start of your employment what you are and I am quite adept in the ways of teaching you how to allow your inner self to grow and flourish. This night you will begin to learn.”
Natasha didn’t know what He meant. She had never been threatened to expose inner self, not have it examined, and surely wondered what He meant by such directness. Still, from somewhere deep inside her she was awakening. Her head bowed submissively.
“You will not speak unless I ask you a direct question My pet. When you do answer from this moment on you will finish each sentence with Sir. Is that understood little one?”
Natasha’s first thought was to run. She looked shocked and began to stand thinking she didn’t want to be spoken to and treated in such a way. As she was in a half crouched, half standing position, His voice boomed, “SIT BITCH!”
Natasha quickly surrendered and planted that fine ass back down against the hard wooden chair. His piercing eyes seemed to sink into the back of her brain. At this very moment T/they both knew Who had complete control. Even more important was the fact that from somewhere in her being, she felt the beginning of completeness. She lowered her eyes and softly answered, “yes Sir.”
Frank arose and crossed the distance between T/them and slapped the girl sharply across her right cheek. Her face reddened and her head snapped harshly to the left. With hair flying and a palm print left on her face, a single tear ran down from her closed eyes. She raised her hand to feel the sting of His slap.
“Replace your hand to you lap bitch and look at Me. The slap was for disobeying as since I ordered you to sit it required a non verbal reply.”
Natasha folded her hands on her lap, her face still stinging. This time she said nothing at all.
“Good girl,” He hissed as He walked around and stood behind the terrified woman. His fingers began to rake through her long soft hair. She shivered at His touch yet remained seated upright. Her nipples were hardening and she could tell already that she would comply to this sudden twist of events.
“Natasha,” He hissed in her ears, “you are what is commonly called a natural submissive. I shall bring you to the fullest meaning of the word this night. You will obey and in obeying learn that all you needed was the spark I shall supply to ignite the fire that burns within you. You need One such as I and you never even knew it, but I do. You, from your youth have been given the gift of submission, it must have been. The way you display it at work is quite clear to Me little one.”
His hands now roamed her soft shoulders. She shuddered at His touch yet remained still in wonderment and desire. He ran His strong hands down her arms to her elbows and back up to her shoulders again. His head lowered and He saw her breasts.
“Are your nipples hard girl?”
A blush overtook her face as she softly answered, “Yes Sir.”
“You wish to show them to Me don’t you little one?”
Natasha stiffened and sighed. She knew she had no choice and again softly replied, “Yes Sir.”
With a hand full of her lovely hair Frank yanked her head back towards Him and again His eyes pierced hers as He hissed,
“Then do so now bitch!”
Even in her twisted position her fingers flew to the buttons on her blouse. She leaned forward as much as He allowed her and removed her bra. Her young fleshy tits now in full view as both garments were dropped to the floor. Her nipples hard a diamonds, feeling the coolness of the air hit them. Her chest heaving in air as she maintained her eyes with His, lost in complete submission.
He released her hair and smiled, “Good girl,” and strolled in front of the spellbound woman. His hands reached out and His fingers roughly pinched at her nipples. She gasped and shrieked at the sudden never before felt pain. Her hands almost flew up to grip His wrists but stopped, as she looked into those coal like eyes of His. With an added sharp twist at both nipples she again folded her arms in her lap. Now again tears freely flowed down her face. The pain was increasing and nearly unbearable, yet she sat there taking it in silence, save for her whimpers of distress.
He snapped His fingers from her nipples and commanded, “Thank Me slut!”
Being called such a name became as exciting as the pain had and she meekly replied, “Thank you Sir.”
Her nipples were red and raw. She sobbed silently until the pain subsided. Frank opened a box from behind the sofa and produced a pair of handcuffs.
“Hands behind your back bitch.”
With all hopes and desires of refusal dismissed she complied. Frank then walked behind her and clasped the cuffs on the girl. Next He again went to the box and extracted a riding crop. He also had an handful of plastic clothes pins. Natasha gasped already knowing what His intent was. She noticed something else as well, a moistening in her pussy.
Frank laid the crop in her lap and snapped a clothes pin directly on the tip of her left nipple.
“Ouchhhhhh, please Sir, pleaseeeeeesssseeee,” the girl screamed. Perhaps in hopes of someone hearing her and coming through the door to her rescue, or, perhaps just in the sheer pain of it. Nevertheless, Frank continued the same torture to her other nipple. Again the cries of pain leapt from her voice. They seemed to entice Him all the more. As each clothes pin was applied to various spots of her breasts, her begging and tears continued. Frank also continued until none less than eight clothes pins each adorned her pristine white breasts, all biting deeply and harshly into her.
He would twist a pin here and a pin there, each time causing her more anguish and pain. Each time causing her pussy to flow, and each time producing the beloved sounds of her cries for mercy. He took His time in this process, speaking nor responding not to the helpless woman, save to increase the pressure or twist all the more to her pleads.
Then Frank returned to His comfortable chair and picked up His glass. He stared at the girl as He sipped slowly. Such a lovely sight before Him. This half naked slut, crying and sobbing feeling the bite of the clothespins upon her shaking breasts. It hardened His cock, just this sight of her.
“Look at Me bitch,” He commanded. She lifted her tear streaked face and again felt spellbound by His stare.
“Now be very careful and remove those shoes. Know that should that riding crop fall from your lap, I shall allow it to dance your full body little one, understand slut?”
With the softest of voices now Natasha replied, “Yes Sir.” She shifted her legs gently to try to use the toe end of one shoe to remove the tight heel off her foot. Each tiny movement she made created one of the clothespins to sink into her chest deeper. The pain reminded her of what was yet to come should the crop drop and she carefully managed to remove both shoes without that happening.
“Cleaver child, quite cleaver,” He mused. Then the approached her again and began yanking and twisting at the clothespins on her bruised breasts. She screamed in pain and twisted and jerked her body, and low and behold the crop fell from her lap. T/they B/both heard it hit the floor and He smiled with a final twist of the pins at her nipples and sneered, “But not cleaver enough it seems.”
He bent and ran His hands behind her lower back and began to unzip her skirt. “Lift up slut,” He commanded. Without answering, the girl planted both feet firmly on the floor and raised her ass up off the chair as high as she could. Frank yanked both her skirt and pantyhose down over her soft ass and snatched them from her feet. He discarded the skirt, but held the panty section of the hose to His face and sniffed. Again the girl felt the blush cover her face. She was so embarrassed as she knew they were soaked. Her breasts felt on fire as He stood there, His eyes still sinking into the back of her skull.
Frank then pulled the pantyhose wide apart exposing the drenched crotch part to her face and ordered her to suck her own juices from them. Without hesitation Natasha’s tongue snaked past her dry lips and she tasted of herself from her own soiled pantyhose. She licked in earnest, although the taste was foreign to her in not from the pleasure of it, but in an attempt to please Him. It was His bidding, and she wanted to comply.
Frank then sneered down at the obedient slut and then snapped the hose over her face and head. She had been hooded with them and had to now breath through them. He enjoyed her humiliation.
Frank picked up the crop and began an series of beatings upon her breasts. With each shriek the intensity of the crop struck. With each jerk of her body, the crop sought new territory of flesh to enjoy. Her response was as music to her ears. Soon, as He new she would, her begging of Him stop was replaced by her begging for more.
The crop and the clothespins had become her friend. She had indeed learned to crave the pain. She had actually never known such desires burned within her. As the beating continued she became more and more alive.
There was no more resistance. There was not a hint of sorry. With each landing of the crop she knew she loved both it and Frank all the more. Not the love of a slave to her Master, but the love of One who was unleashing an unknown and now unquenchable desire for…THE SWEET STING OF PAIN.
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B.O.H.I.C.A. (bend over here it comes again.)
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THE SWEET STING OF PAIN by SIR STRYKR - 
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