know where your limit lies. This is an exploration, not an endurance test.”
She smiled and kissed him. “Yes, Sir.”
She closed her eyes, reminding herself of that the next day, when she was naked and bound in chains before Rytsar.
The broad-chested Russian removed his shirt and smiled down at her. “I am thrilled to introduce you to my ‘nines’, radost moya. ” He held up his multi-tailed whip reverently so she could admire it. The baldheaded Dom walked around her slowly. She remembered the ferociousness of the dragon tattooed on his muscle-bound shoulder. Like the dragon, Rytsar was beautiful—but dangerous.
Goosebumps rose on her skin as he caressed her with the tails, her body anticipating the violent sensations the knots were about to provoke. He pressed the handle to her lips. “Hold it, while I prepare you.”
Brie opened her mouth. The leather tasted of the salt from his hands. He proceeded to twist her hair, pulling her head back. The chains clanked in reaction to the sudden movement. “We shall see how deep your dark fantasies lie, my willing sub.” He deftly tied her long hair into a knot with a leather string.
Rytsar had already placed a Magic Wand between her legs and bound her to it so that the vibrator was firmly pressed against her clit. Once her arms were pulled taut above her head, he turned the wicked toy on. She squirmed, her pussy instantly responding to the vibration.
“I use this tool on submissives new to the dungeon. It helps acclimate them to the ecstasy of pain.”
She moaned, a quiet panic setting in. The dark oppression of the dungeon, along with the lonely silence of the great room, made her anxious. However, it was the nagging sense of fear that had her entire body on alert.
Rytsar ran his hands over her naked skin. “I can feel your fear, radost moya . It…turns me on.”
It was disconcerting to think her genuine fear was an aphrodisiac for the Russian Dom.
“Subjecting a submissive to intense pain is much like deflowering a virgin. I enjoy the journey of penetrating a sub’s will with my desire.”
Brie realized she was breathing erratically and forced herself to calm down, afraid of fainting before they even began. Rytsar walked away from her and towards the wall of instruments. With growing dread, she watched as he thoughtfully chose a malicious-looking flogger from the wall.
Rytsar did not explain himself. He simply walked back to her, cutting the air with the whip to warm up his muscles.
Brie closed her eyes, readying herself for the initial stroke, but nothing could prepare her for the fire he evoked. She salivated against the tangy leather of his cat o’ nines, trying to keep her cries at bay as Rytsar lashed her back with solid, unyielding strokes. She whimpered loudly, the chains dancing around her as she rocked against the force of his blows. This was no gentle warm-up.
The sound of her lashing echoed throughout the dungeon, filling her ears. She did not drop the handle from her mouth to call out her safe word, but tears ran down her face as she forced herself to accept the onslaught.
When Rytsar finally stopped, the air seemed to still reverberate with the echoes of her surrender. He came up behind her, caressing her cheek. “The tenseness of your muscles, the whimpers against the leather, your sweet, sweet tears…they call to me.” He caressed her fiery back and then patted her ass lightly before giving the Wand a small adjustment. Brie moaned as she focused on the intense vibration, which helped to cut through the wall of pain.
“Your body must grow used to my pleasure. Much like a child learning to walk, it requires guidance.” His hot breath caressed her ear as he whispered, “You’re quite desirable right now, radost moya . So vulnerable and scared. It takes strength not to ravish you.”
He laid the flogger down and took the cat o’ nines from her lips. He slowly wiped her saliva from his instrument, dragging out the anticipation.
She smiled and kissed him. “Yes, Sir.”
She closed her eyes, reminding herself of that the next day, when she was naked and bound in chains before Rytsar.
The broad-chested Russian removed his shirt and smiled down at her. “I am thrilled to introduce you to my ‘nines’, radost moya. ” He held up his multi-tailed whip reverently so she could admire it. The baldheaded Dom walked around her slowly. She remembered the ferociousness of the dragon tattooed on his muscle-bound shoulder. Like the dragon, Rytsar was beautiful—but dangerous.
Goosebumps rose on her skin as he caressed her with the tails, her body anticipating the violent sensations the knots were about to provoke. He pressed the handle to her lips. “Hold it, while I prepare you.”
Brie opened her mouth. The leather tasted of the salt from his hands. He proceeded to twist her hair, pulling her head back. The chains clanked in reaction to the sudden movement. “We shall see how deep your dark fantasies lie, my willing sub.” He deftly tied her long hair into a knot with a leather string.
Rytsar had already placed a Magic Wand between her legs and bound her to it so that the vibrator was firmly pressed against her clit. Once her arms were pulled taut above her head, he turned the wicked toy on. She squirmed, her pussy instantly responding to the vibration.
“I use this tool on submissives new to the dungeon. It helps acclimate them to the ecstasy of pain.”
She moaned, a quiet panic setting in. The dark oppression of the dungeon, along with the lonely silence of the great room, made her anxious. However, it was the nagging sense of fear that had her entire body on alert.
Rytsar ran his hands over her naked skin. “I can feel your fear, radost moya . It…turns me on.”
It was disconcerting to think her genuine fear was an aphrodisiac for the Russian Dom.
“Subjecting a submissive to intense pain is much like deflowering a virgin. I enjoy the journey of penetrating a sub’s will with my desire.”
Brie realized she was breathing erratically and forced herself to calm down, afraid of fainting before they even began. Rytsar walked away from her and towards the wall of instruments. With growing dread, she watched as he thoughtfully chose a malicious-looking flogger from the wall.
Rytsar did not explain himself. He simply walked back to her, cutting the air with the whip to warm up his muscles.
Brie closed her eyes, readying herself for the initial stroke, but nothing could prepare her for the fire he evoked. She salivated against the tangy leather of his cat o’ nines, trying to keep her cries at bay as Rytsar lashed her back with solid, unyielding strokes. She whimpered loudly, the chains dancing around her as she rocked against the force of his blows. This was no gentle warm-up.
The sound of her lashing echoed throughout the dungeon, filling her ears. She did not drop the handle from her mouth to call out her safe word, but tears ran down her face as she forced herself to accept the onslaught.
When Rytsar finally stopped, the air seemed to still reverberate with the echoes of her surrender. He came up behind her, caressing her cheek. “The tenseness of your muscles, the whimpers against the leather, your sweet, sweet tears…they call to me.” He caressed her fiery back and then patted her ass lightly before giving the Wand a small adjustment. Brie moaned as she focused on the intense vibration, which helped to cut through the wall of pain.
“Your body must grow used to my pleasure. Much like a child learning to walk, it requires guidance.” His hot breath caressed her ear as he whispered, “You’re quite desirable right now, radost moya . So vulnerable and scared. It takes strength not to ravish you.”
He laid the flogger down and took the cat o’ nines from her lips. He slowly wiped her saliva from his instrument, dragging out the anticipation.
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