That Tuesday evening, 6:30 PM sharp, outside O… train station. Heart pounding. I’m Myrmee, 26, in a skirt, stockings, thong, strapless bra as ordered. Fiancée proposed last night. Guilt burns, but pussy throbs harder. Met him online, that vanished BDSM chat site. ICQ whispers turned daily emails: outfits, fucks with my man detailed. Obeying felt electric. Now real. Phone buzzes. He’s waiting. Late from work. Park the car. Finally spot him. Tall, commanding. Dinner first. Confess the ring. He nods, eyes hungry. Walk hand-in-hand in the park. Pulse races. His hotel invite hits like a slap. Follow him up. Ass sways under skirt. Elevator tight, his breath hot on neck.
Room at fifth floor end. He shows the collar. Pearls white and blue. Beg permission to wear it. Granted. Feels right. Magnificent. Unbuttons my blouse slow. Arms limp. Drops to floor. Mirror reflection: slut awakening. Eyes down. ‘Be my sub?’ ‘Yes, Sir.’ Bra wrong—office rush. Pants too. Punish later. Cravache traces lips. I kiss leather, tongue out. Fear mixes lust. Hands up against mirror. Blindfold on. Feel only touch. Shoes off. Pants down—no hands, hips wiggle. Shame floods as thong soaks. Fingers in cunt. Taste my own slick first time. Nipples teased with feather. Twitch—wrists bound behind.
The Awakening
Pull tits up. Hard peaks beg. Bra off. Thong yanked. Pussy dripping fountain. Fingers probe ass—tight, promised. Shower time. Enema bulb first. Bathroom door open. He watches. Clean inside. Water too hot—cools it, grabs tit. Kneel wet on tiles. Leash clips collar. Drag to bed. Hemp rope binds. Rope bra squeezes tits. Diamonds on belly. Knots grind clit, asshole. Hump air desperate. Whips start. Bra fault: 10 per tit. Bite crop. Fakes first—tense, relax, then sting. Scream surprise. ‘Thank you, Sir.’ Count with ‘O’. Legs spread. Pussy leaks. Pants punish: martinet bites thighs.
The Act
Kneel blind. Undo pants mouth-only. Teeth graze belt. Cock springs free. Tease cheeks. Beg suck. Guide deep—throat virgin territory. Cum floods mouth. Swallow greedy. Proud Sir. Lip faults now: pussy lips pay. Legs folded, ankles to wrists. Belt cracks open slit. ‘O thank you, Sir.’ Clit next. Tongue heals—orgasm rips. Reward: ass fuck begged. Doggy edge. Lube my juices. Gland pops ring. Inch by inch. Breathe. Push back. Ride impaled. Cum synced. Shower together. Dawn breaks.
Back home, body marked. Rope burns, whip welts. Fiancée returns soon. Lie smooth. Virus planted. Crave next. Bureau grind Wednesday. Body here, mind chained. Secret thrill: fiancée slut. Owned.