Locked in a cage. No key in sight. Nobody to let me free. No chance in hell of escape. Clutching the bars and sobbing silently.

All hope is lost. There is nothing but despair.


My head jerks upwards hopefully. A tall woman in a tight rubber suit is walking toward me. I pant. Her face shows no pity, however. She produces a key from her crotch-pouch and my eyes widen. She inserts the key into the lock and twists it.

“Beg” she commands me, holding onto the cage door. My response is to get on my knees and bow to her. “Good.” she tells me, and pulls the cage door open. However, a collar is produced and fastened around my neck in one motion. My heart sinks. She takes the key from the cage door, and my choice is made.

I charge. My tackle knocks her to the ground and the key slips from her grasp. I dive and grab it successfully. My fumble with the lock almost costs me my freedom; a whip strikes the air where my face was a second ago. The lock clicks as I turn the key, and the collar falls. But I am not free. Yet.

I charge again and my fist makes contact with her nose. We both fall, and I land on top of her. I hold her down by the neck and pull my arm back, but she is quicker-her slap forces me backwards. Her hand closes around the whip and her aim is flawless-the great red mark on my cheek stuns me. She walks toward me, but I am not down yet.

I jump upwards and pin her to the ground, crashing my knee into her stomach and holding the arm with the whip. One punch to the side of her head and the fight is finished. She is unconscious. I can finally set out and be away from her. Then a thought stirs in the back of my mind; I had earned my freedom, yes. But would I truly forgive myself if I did not give this woman what she deserved? No.

I drag her over to the table she had strapped me to so many times before. It is not easy lifting her body onto it, but I am too full of vindictive fury to care. I strip her bare of rubber and tie her in a starfish-like position. She is waking up, so I watch her. I want to look into her fearful eyes. To hear her screams of dread. To feel her terror course through her body.
Her eyes slowly flit open. She quickly realizes the predicament she is in and lets out a scream. Well, others will hear a scream, but I hear a beautiful sound that tells me just how scared she is. I walk over to the table containing all the painful instruments she had experimented with on my body, and start with the ring gag. Once she sees it, her mouth shuts tightly, but her eyes are wide and her body is shaking.

Knowing how to counter it, I hold her nose closed. You can only stay starved of oxygen for so long. Her mouth soon bursts open, hungry for air. In one second I shove the ring gag inside. A second later, it is fastened around her head and she is trying desperately to scream for help, but all that came out is “Helk!” It feels wonderful to be in control. I can understand her actions now, but I won’t forgive them until she knows what being on the other side of the gun barrel feels like.

Ignoring her pleas, I grab two metallic clamps joined by a chain and attach them to her nipples. Then I grab some thin string, tie it to her clit, and tie the other end to the chain. I grab the chain and pull. Her scream of agony as her nipples and clit are pulled away from her body is like a symphony. I let it rest for a moment but taunt her: “Beg.” She desperately tries to apologize but I ignore her, pulling the chain again and basking in the sounds she makes.

By now I am erect, but it is not yet ready to enter her. I walk to the end her head is at and slap her forehead with the tip. Then I sit on her chest and guide it inside the ring gag. The mere knowledge that she can’t resist, that she can’t even scream, enhances the experience. I slowly push every inch inside her mouth but I can tell that she is trying to avoid contact with it. I then give her a command of my own: “Lick.”

She tries to resist at first, but I reach behind me and grab the chain, teasing it as a warning. The next moment, I feel her tongue touch my length and start licking it slowly, bit by bit. She seems disgusted that she is even touching it as much as she is. But I have no mercy to offer her. I lightly pull the chain and feel her tongue start to circle it slowly.

I pull it out and give her space to breath. “Wa a oo oo-in is?” she asks through the gag, sobbing slightly. “Because you always did.” I answer shortly. I get off of her chest and shuffle backwards, so I am in between her legs instead. “Kease…go…” she begs. Paying no attention, I find that her vagina is almost dripping. I smile sadistically at her “So, you’re enjoying this after all.” I taunt her “We can’t have that, can we?” I slide off the table and grab her whip from the floor.

She can’t see much, but she certainly feels the whip strike her spot. She screams excruciatingly. Another strike, and another scream, but she recoils more this time. A third whip connects with her wetness and I hear her sobbing through the gag. I might feel pity for her, if she had done for me once. As it is, I am convinced she is getting a lesson in karma.

I clamber back onto the table and taste her wet spot, making her cringe slightly. It tastes amazing, and the smell is almost intoxicating. I hoist myself onto my knees and place the tip at her entrance. I push slightly to tease her, prompting a muffled squeal. I can’t let the gag interrupt her squeals as I commit the act, so I bend over and take the gag out. I expect a scream, but instead get a whisper “I know…I’ve earned this…but you don’t have to…” I cut her off “But that’s where you’re wrong. I do have to.”

With that, I push the whole thing inside her spot in one swift movement. Her gasp tells me of both shock and pleasure. It is a great release for me-for too long she had teased and tortured me. Now I was getting what I wanted. My length was finally inside my Mistress.

I am ruthless and relentless after the first thrust. I pound her spot vigourously, and I know that if she had control over her arms, she would have wrapped them around my neck. As I thrust into her violently, she offers her tongue to me. I bend over and meet it with my own tongue. Our tongues wrestle and dance as I enter her again and again. It only serves to enhance the experience. She starts sucking on my tongue as I speed up my thrusting. It is clear to see my ex-domme loves being submissive as much as she does dominant.

Without warning, I suddenly explode inside her spot. The cum is forced out in such quantities that some shoots out through the air gaps between my length and her spot. I reach over and untie her straps. The moment both are free, she wraps her arms around my torso and pulls me into a kiss. It is not with tongue, and it is not even that deep of a kiss, but it is one full of passion. As though she was lost for words, so she tried to convey them to me via the kiss.

When we broke apart, she breathed heavily and smiled. A smile that I returned. As my (now soft) length fell out of her, she giggled and asked the question that would change our lives: “Will you mind being the dom from now on?”