1. I Am Pet


    Date: 9/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Author: Milik_the_Red, Rating: 7, Source: LushStories

    only my thin shirt and leggings have lifted the cum from my skin. I am not sure how many loads I wear. Three? Four? More? The number doesn't matter. What matters is that none of it is His. I have allowed myself to be defiled. I am certain that is why Master allowed me to wear my clothing when he sent me down here. I am sure they too will be cleansed, just as my body will be. ‘I have betrayed my Master!’ The piteous thought echoes in my mind. He, who saved me from myself, and from a life of unhappiness, and all because I chose to provoke his anger. ‘Oh, god! What have I done?!’ A better question at that moment might be, what was He going to do to me? It is then that I hear the metal door clang open and the harsh, undiffused light flashes on from a single bulb. My eyes suddenly burn from the brightness, and I squeeze them shut for a moment, careful to keep my hands at my side. Master grants me not a word as he walks toward the wall where a number of medieval looking cuffs, shackles and other binding devices hang upon iron pegs. A great sense of dread comes over me as I watch him impassively inspect the collection. I follow his gaze as best I can as it roams from one evil looking device to another. Possibilities play out in my mind as to what form of punishment I am to endure. Each dreadful scene spawned again and again by the particular type of binding that would be needed to secure me in its execution. My heart races and my belly twists in a nauseating cocktail of fear and ...
    lust as I watch Him choose the device He will use to bind me. Finally, he lifts a set from its peg. Silently, and showing no sign of mercy, he approaches and motions for me to hold out my wrists. My eyes plead piteously for mercy, and a quiver of fear crosses my lip as I behold what He carries. Each cuff is three inches wide and a quarter inch thick of stiff, black leather. I know from experience that they will offer no forgiveness when they are stressed and taut. Moreover, the fact that he chose this particular set, with its short connecting chain, speaks volumes about His intentions for me this night. "Hold out your wrists, Pet," he says calmly, as if it means nothing. His tone carries a certainty that I will obey. "Yes, Master," I respond meekly. I lift my arms and hold them close together in front of me, proving that he is right. Silently, he draws each cuff so tightly around my slim wrists that I am wincing in pain before he even finishes lacing them. My heart pounds in my chest and the first tremble of the night runs through me as I feel their grip on my wrists. Swallowing nervously, I know it was but the first tremble of many I will feel before this night ends. I watch as Master walks away. My nervous trembles turn to a stomach-wrenching fear as he begins to unspool a length of heavy chain from the mechanical wench mounted to our basement floor. My eyes must be wide with fear, and I almost make the mistake of whining out-loud, but I catch myself in time. Somehow, I manage ...
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