The live of a submissive

The live of a submissive The live of a submissive

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

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Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

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Summary

Life in the eyes of a live-in submissive

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Summary

Life in the eyes of a live-in submissive

Content

Submitted: July 15, 2014

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Content

Submitted: July 15, 2014

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I woke from my slumber that night to the brisk heat of the sheets surrounding my already overheated body. The first thing I saw was the cream ceiling until I turned my head to the left, noting that He still hadn’t taken the time nor the thought to untie me from the wood on the wall.
The “wood” consisted of two wooden planks crossed over one another. Nailed to the wall and looking much like a crucifix. Though in this case the victim was I. My hands were bound with a deep red rope. It was a soft material, but held me firm, preventing me from much movement of my wrists. The rope was tied in a handcuff style knot and attached further to the wood on the wall. This meant I had limited movement, making it difficult for me to straighten up the bed sheets.
It took me a further twenty minutes to be able to move myself around the bed and tuck the corners in neatly. Once done I knelt on the ground facing the door – wearing nothing but the bindings He had provided me. I lowered my head and parted my thighs assuring my heat was on full display. My wrists rose as much as they could above my head as I thrust my chest out showing off my perky nipples that were bitten by the heat of the room and the sun blaring in through the curtains. I had dark hair, and deep, green eyes. Sir said I was like an oasis, a man’s fantasy.
My toes curled against the carpet at the thought of Him coming home to his favourite sight. I made sure to keep my back straight and my stomach taught. Sir would know if I was slouching or not sitting up straight. And he’d punish me for it.
I was not permitted any jewellery of any kind at home. I was not allowed to paint my nails, nor wear make up, or perfume. Sir said he preferred his tiger to be natural and that’s how I would stay. I looked up at the top of the doorframe, counting the spiral circles on a panel just above it. I would not let myself proceed into dirty thoughts while Sir wasn’t home, that would be disrespectful. I was not allowed to indulge myself in any form of self-pleasure without his permission. If I did so it would result in belt or whip lashings, fifteen of them.
My toes curled against the carpet at the thought of Him coming home to his favourite sight. I made sure to keep my back straight and my stomach taught. Sir would know if I was slouching or not sitting up straight. And he’d punish me for it.
I was not permitted any jewellery of any kind at home. I was not allowed to paint my nails, nor wear make up, or perfume. Sir said he preferred his tiger to be natural and that’s how I would stay. I looked up at the top of the doorframe, counting the spiral circles on the panel just above it. I would not let myself proceed into dirty thoughts while Sir wasn’t home, that would be disrespectful. I was not allowed to indulge myself in any form of self-pleasure without his permission. If I did so it would result in belt or whip lashings, fifteen of them.
Though as I sat there trying to delay my hands the soft touch they so craved I couldn’t help but wonder into the forbidden. My own thoughts. I urged myself to stay calm and focus on counting the swirls. One, two, three. Seven. My mind wasn’t complying with me at all. The rope felt too good against my tender flesh, the way its cut yet soft, firm surface dug into my skin like tendrils of forbidden caress. If Sir didn’t get home soon I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wasn’t even sure if it were worth the lashings I’d receive.
I breathed inwardly trying to calm myself. Sir would be home soon. I would confess myself for letting my mind wander and the punishment wouldn’t be so bad had I let my bound hands wander. I had enough room to move making it possible to touch my nether if I so wished. But that was part of my training – denying myself that wish.
I strained somewhat to force my thighs to part. It wasn’t a clever move. Unable to help myself I let out a soft groan at the pressure my thighs placed on my nether lips.
I heard the door creak open downstairs and shot my head up, whipping my thighs apart, as they had been before; my heart racing in my chest. I heard His footsteps as he walked across the hall and laid his coat over the chair near the door. My back straightened.
As His shoes clanked to the ground my shoulders squared. I focused my gaze on the floor and tried to ignore the tingling sensation in my abdomen. I was in trouble for sure.
I heard the bedroom’s door creak open, and a few others after that before the door in front of me finally came ajar.
I immediately parted my thighs and kept them as they were as I felt His eyes on me. He was eyeing down my figure, my posture, and my stance. He was testing me with a silent observation to see how well I could hold myself.
I took a deep, quiet breath in with the hopes he wouldn’t notice the wetness between my legs, nor the sweet aroma that drifted lightly around on the humid heat of the room. He said nothing.
I watched His feet, without moving my head, of course, walk around me. Though when He finally stopped behind me I had no way of telling what was about to happen. He seemed to be contemplating something that much I could fathom from the silence.
My heart wouldn’t stop racing and my pulse was rising quickly. I felt Him move behind me again. This time, I heard His footsteps against the carpet. I felt His fingers work at the ropes around my wrists until they fell loose to the ground.
I was confused, excited, and overall a little frightened. I remained still, resisting the urge to rub the itchy indents on my wrists where the rope had been.
He snapped His fingers, which I knew meant to rise and stand. I did so, straightening my back once more and lowering my head so I didn’t meet His eyes.
I heard Him exhale in front of me, as He leant down. I felt His breath against my lips as He came nearer. His lips were inches from mine, but I didn’t dare move closer, as much I wanted to.
His fingers rose up over my jaw line, painting patterns in silence with His fingers. The only thing to be heard at this moment was His breathing, which I longed to hear in my ear as He took full control of me.
I had to stop myself closing my eyes as His head inclined forward and His lips grazed my sensitive flesh, feeling like feathers were pleasantly tickling my skin.
I could tell He was smiling, but whether it was in amusement or a smirk I couldn’t figure.
Before I had a chance to react a fist was pushed into my locks and wound around them securely.
I was lead downstairs to where the basement was, He didn’t stop to make sure I wasn’t falling down the stairs; He said I should know the way blindfolded by now.
Once we got into the basement He turned the lights on and bent me over the tall table there. This room acted as our dungeon and I’d learned to fear it.
He had moved behind me in the next moment and before I knew it my ankles were tied with rope to the table’s legs, setting my thighs apart and leaving my heat exposed along with my rump. I heard Him chuckle knowingly behind me. That meant He must have smelt my passion on the air as He came home this evening. Oh goodness what HAD I gotten myself into?
“So, are you going to confess your crimes and reduce the fifteen strikes or am I going to have to deliver them without mercy, tiger?” I heard Him say, the sound conjoining with that of a belt unbuckling, and a sound that made my spine tingle – the belt being pulled from its loops.
He hadn’t tied my hands down, I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t care. My heart was racing in my chest and I barely managed to speak back without stuttering. “I confess my crimes M-Master. “ I started, closing my eyes and breathing in in attempt to calm myself. “I-I was thinking about you improperly when you weren’t home, Master. Please forgive this one.”
The sound of the belt stopped for a moment and for that moment I got my hopes up that I wouldn’t be punished. A sharp sting suddenly joined the slap that pummelled down onto my left buttock cheek. I yelped loudly. “You forgot to apologise, tiger. I will reduce the strikes by two. That leaves you with thirteen.” He spoke behind me sternly, counting the strike He’d just given as number one.
“I-I Apologise, M-Master.” I stuttered in response, unable to help the way my body stumbled forward against what it leant on, causing the binding holding me against it to tug and dig into my soft flesh creating a burning sensation I knew would last longer than the punishment would.
“Does an apology take away what you did?” He said bluntly behind me as I felt the sharp sting of the belt again. Strike two. I closed my eyes in attempt not to yelp again and breathed in, deeply. “No Master, it does not.”
The third strike made me jump; it came just seconds after the last. I gasped out and felt His hand slap at my buttocks twice. That made five. By now my lower lip was quivering and breathing was proving to be difficult.


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