Submissive Desires (21 page)

Her ankles were restrained in the same manner, legs spread to the point of discomfort, tugging down on her captive wrists, then he wrapped that thick, hard leather belt around her waist and buckled her into it.

As he puttered about the room, Simon was looking grim, and Maura knew that that did not bode well for her. Not at all.

He surprised her when he released her wrists suddenly and had her bend over at the waist, giving her no choice but to rely on the strength of the band around her tummy to keep her from falling onto the floor on her face. Apparently, though, Simon had no such concerns. He was too busy wrapping her breasts in something, near the base of each of them, pulling whatever it was – which appeared to be ace bandages – horridly tight before looping it around her several more times, then tying them off with a slip knot. The last thing he did before he let her up was bind the distended globes together.

When her wrists were again held well above her head, he stopped to caress those instantly painful breasts as they jutted out in front of her, obscenely contorted and achingly swollen, hefting them and hurting them at the same time, squeezing them when their mass had nowhere to go – when she had no way to avoid his strong fingers.

Maura whimpered loudly, amazed at how much pain she was already in, just from having her breasts bound, and he hadn’t even done anything to her yet. She watched in horror as he turned to the display of implements and selected a very slim stick-like baton that looked about fifteen inches long and was very thin. Her eyes widened as he walked back to stand beside her.

“When I told you that you needed to be very careful about setting the alarm when you first got here, did you think I was kidding?”

Oh, God, he sounded pissed. When Simon got angry, he never yelled, in her experience. He just got sober and serious – even more so than usual. And he looked deadly serious right now – she almost wished he’d blindfold her so she didn’t have to look at the expression on that face – or at the implements he selected off the wall so casually.

“No, Sir,” she squeaked weakly, already wanting to cringe from that wicked looking rod, but having no place to go – literally, with her back to the wall, and her breasts bound so tightly – individually and together, protruding out in front of her while slowly turning a dusky red before her eyes - that there was no hope of escape for them, either.

To her complete horror, he began to accent the occasional word of his lecture by bringing that baton down sharply on the taut, tight flesh that was not protected by ace bandages, snapping crisply 85

down slowly at first, then picking up speed as he spoke. “And yet, the very first time I come home after being away for a while, it’s not set.”

Maura was moaning and trying to dance within the cuffs, although she could barely move her feet at all and had no real hope of avoiding any of the stinging blows. “I’mmmmm soooorrrryyyyyy!”

“You’re not now, but I can promise you that you will be,” he answered, not missing a beat. Her breasts had gotten redder and redder as that horrid thing created an abstract pattern of bright red lines all over her tender boobs. The rod was just long enough – and her breasts were forcibly squashed together just so that, if he wanted to, he could completely catch the tops of both at the same time, with the same stroke, doubling her pain with no extra effort to himself.

He didn’t neglect the undersides of her breasts, either, making sure that he spent some time smacking the stick up against that fairly virgin territory while she shrieked and moaned. And every once in a while, he went around and tightened each of the slipknots – on each individual breast as well as the bandages that forced them together, pulling them her so tightly around her that she could barely breath.

All the while, he kept up his lecture. “Being unsafe like that around me is just not an option.

Without putting too fine a point on it, there are people out there that want to kill me.”

Simon gave her a very hard round of about fifty strokes, non-stop, circulating all around the compressed flesh until it was beet red, but still, of course, protruding obscenely, as if begging for more of the same.

Maura was beside herself – she knew she couldn’t stand much more of this, but by some miracle, he decided to change implements at that point, and grabbed a shortish wooden spatula that looked like someone had hammered the bowl of a wooden spoon flat.

She wasn’t sure which was worse when he took that wooden implement to her poor nipples after mercilessly teasing and pulling them to stiffness. He repeated the process several times on each breast –

pinching and twisting hard, rolling the abused tip between his thumb and forefinger mercilessly, only to beat it hard until it retreated again.

Her cries filled the room – she had absolutely no control over the screams; she couldn’t have suppressed them for love nor money.

Simon kept right on beating her breasts, saying with an almost eerie quietness, “You can scream all you like. This room is entirely soundproofed. No one will ever hear you.”

Maura was in too much agony to really worry about that. Her mind and her body were completely consumed with the throbbing fires he’d set in her chest.

Again, he finished her off with a long hard set that had her hoarse by the end, tears streaming down her face, chest heaving and hurting in so many different ways she thought she was going to go insane.

And he hadn’t finished. Not yet.

For a long moment, he merely stood in front of her watching her. It was one of his favorite pastimes, Maura-watching, whether she as just walking across a room, or was on the receiving end of a good thrashing, he adored seeing how she reacted, and absorbing each attempt to deal with what he was dishing out to her – punishment or merely rules for living that she had to conform herself to. Controlling her was the most interesting thing he’d ever done in his life, and he could never see a time when he would get bored with it. She was too exciting, too expressive, and her reactions to him were in the extreme, whether he brought her pain or pleasure.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her – not that he needed to. She was his, in every sense of the word, and if he wanted to touch her, he would. And he did, hefting each globe, marveling at its crushed and marred perfection. She groaned deep back in her throat as he squeezed her with both strong hands in a massaging motion that might have been soothing if she hadn’t been so tortured by the bandages that held her flesh abnormally distended. Then, very suddenly, he dropped her, making her scream as the weight of her breasts fell against their bonds.

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His mouth soothed her swollen nipples, but only for a second at a time before he cut the ties that held her, knowing that it would make her scream again as the circulation returned to the area that had been starved for it for so long.

And what was worse was that the pain was driving her to move, and moving just made her bounce up and down, which hurt even more.

Simon just stood back and watched her try to cope with something that was designed to be torturous for her, and obviously was. He loved seeing her caught that way between dual pains. She looked like she was at the end of her rope.

But she had one more part to endure, and it was going to be the worse of anything he’d done to her so far.

When she finally gave up fighting and hung limply in her restraints, Simon turned away from her for a moment, then came back with a tray that adjusted to waist height. It was on rollers, like a surgeon would have his implements on.

He wasn’t quite going to play doctor with her – yet – but it was close enough. Maura was in too much agony at first to notice what he was doing until he donned gloves and swabbed her still badly throbbing nipples with alcohol, starting in the center and circling outwards, then betadine, which left a brownish stain that would have been orangish if she hadn’t already been beaten.

The betadine got her attention, although she snuffled loudly through it. Maura didn’t think she wanted to know what it meant, although she already knew in her mind and didn’t want to acknowledge it.

When he inched the tray over enough so that she could see what he had, she began her vain struggles again, begging and pleading prettily for him not to do that to her.

Now, he could have gagged her, and it might well come to that just to drown out her screams, but Simon strongly felt that seeing what he was planning for her was an excellent psychological tool. She would die a thousand deaths of anticipation while waiting for him to go through with it.

Maura yelled so loudly that she broke her voice before he even touched her for the second half of her punishment.

“You know what’s coming, don’t you?” Simon stood in front of her, the tray of plastic capped needles laid out neatly to his right.

Her body was beset with shivers. “You’re not really going to do that to me, are you?”

Simon stood before her, arms folded across his chest. “Weren’t you the one who told me that you were interested in play piercing?”

Oh, God, she was! But not now – with the inevitability of it staring her in the face!!! Maybe not ever! “No, Simon – “ his eyebrow rose tellingly at her use of his first name, which was expressly forbidden.

“Sir – no please don’t do this to me! Please!” The hoarseness of her voice only made her plea more poignant . . . but not to him.

He took a step towards her, cupping her cheek with his big hand, and kissing her very, very gently on the lips. But it was like a red herring, a chimera – his tenderness was completely impermanent, because she knew he intended to do just what he’d prepared for, regardless of how she begged him, because then he took a step back and, surprisingly released her wrists and reattached them behind her, along with a strap pulled tight just above her elbows, forcing her breasts back into almost the same prominence as they had been when they were bound. The belt remained in place, keeping her from leaning too far forward.

Then he reached for her poor mistreated nipple, tugging and tweaking it into a ripe fullness against its – and her – will.

But her will didn’t play into her life any longer. She had voluntarily submitted herself to his will, and he had no hesitance in exercising it – especially when he felt that she had put herself in danger. And she had, probably more than she would ever know or realize.

The idea made him break out in a cold sweat, and, so help him, he was going to teach her a lesson she never forgot about being secure while he was gone.

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Maura begged and pleaded and begged some more under her breath until he had the tip of the needle against her pooched out nipple close to her areole, ready to drive it through from top to bottom.

Slowly.

As he pressed, her eyes closed and she tried to flinch away, but he’d tied her too tightly for that.

She could not get away from the stinging pressure, and she could feel every millimeter of that needle – no matter how small it was - passing through her nipple, where nothing like that ever belonged.

Maura had never felt a pain like that – nor had she ever felt quite so violated in her life. Simon had raped her – taking her whenever he wanted her; it was not the nature of their relationship that he ever had to ask or even deny himself. If he wanted her – which he did on an extremely frequent basis – he took her –

hard, uncompromisingly, and with no concern as to what she might or might not want at that given moment. As long as he didn’t hear the safe word pass from her lips, then he assumed she was physically okay. Since he’d gagged her a lot in the hotel, they had also instituted a “safe signal”, which was snapping her fingers, so that if she had been rendered non-verbal, she could still get his attention and stop whatever was going on.

The rapes were not devastating to her in the way a rape by a stranger would be – they were merely expectations of her submission. Sometimes they were harder to take than others – most usually when he took her anally, with only a thin layer of slickening lube, and forcing himself into her none-to-gently to ride her roughly to his own completion. Even if she was aroused – and she very often was - she was, of course, not allowed to come without permission.

But this – this was a new height of subjugation – and true, unadulterated agony. She could feel the thing sliding into her – as his penis always did into various orifices – and not easily, either. Her nipple was fighting it every step of the way – slowing the process and making it even that much more torturous.

Not that he wasn’t going to win out, but the density of her flesh automatically created resistance this unnatural act.

He just barely had the tip in, and began to tamp it down, drawing out the painful period where the upper layers of her skin were being pierced.

Maura couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t hear. All she could do was endure the agony that had become her right nipple as it was deliberately perforated by his small taps on the capped end, screaming with each rhythmic beat as the needle was driven home within her. She drew in a deep breath and screamed bloody murder, making Simon raise his head from what he was doing and give her that completely evil smile of his – the one that reassured her that she had no hope that he might take pity on her and back off.

No, he would do with her exactly as he pleased, and despite the torment she was being subjected to, it pleased her that he owned her that way – so completely.

Finally, after she endured the slim implement of her torture piercing through the bottom of her nipple just as carefully and deliberately as it had the top, he slid it home, well into her, and capped off the bottom so that it could not be removed – not that anyone else but him was going to get the chance to remove it. This was not like a dildo or even a plug, that she had any hopes of pushing out.

No. She was well and truly claimed, branded by that piece of stainless steel lying perpendicular to her nipple, and within it, back towards the beginning of her breast.

Then he punctured the other nipple, near to bursting at the way she was so fervently and humiliatingly begging him not to, and then her high pitched wails and sobs as he proceeded to claim her in that very special way.