His Soft Toy (BBW, BDSM, Discipline, Denial)
As much as her master appreciates Victoria's soft, curvy, submissive body, her behavior can leave something to be desired. On a morning when she oversleeps and goes to him later than expected, his interrogation reveals that she often touches herself after their sessions together when he has not allowed her release. Her disobedience, her master informs her, reveals not only that she does not understand what it is to obey, but that she does not understand the great pleasure and gratitude that lie within true submission. But lest she worry, he is here to instruct her.
Excerpt:
"I'm sorry, sir," I say, more to fill the silence than out of any hope that he will forgive so easily. I can feel a bit of saliva pooling in my mouth as I watch him toying with the whip. I am simultaneously chagrined and excited by what is about to happen. But this waiting, this anticipation as I try to watch him without moving my head, is not a good thing. I do not like waiting this way, and I know he can tell.
"I keep you on a regular schedule," he muses at last. "I don't see why you would have difficulty waking up at the proper time, provided that you sleep at the proper time."
I stay silent, as he wants me to be.
"Were you asleep at your proper time last night?" he asks.
"No, sir," I admit, trying not to count as my sins accumulate and with them the impending punishments.
"You were told to be asleep before midnight," he goes on. "How far beyond that were you awake?"
I resist the compulsion to answer truthfully as long as I can. "Until two, sir," I say at last.
"Two?" he repeats. "And yet I finished with you before eleven thirty. What were you doing that was so pressing? Or were you just trying to be disobedient?"
I feel a flush rise in my cheeks and hesitate before answering.
"Tell me, Victoria." He almost purrs as he says it, like a cat trying to coax a mouse out of its hole. He can tell just by my reaction that he won't like my answer.
"I got distracted, sir," I say.
His hands pass through my field of vision again. The strip of leather is taught over his strong hands. "I see. And what was that distraction?"
I swallow and the blush on my cheeks deepens. "I was masturbating, sir."
"Masturbating?"
"Yes, sir."
"I see."
He nudges at my groin with the toe of his shoe, parting my broad thighs and sending a shiver up my body. The polished leather feels incredible as it rubs against my engorged lips.
"Whose pussy is that, Victoria?" he asks, very quietly. "Is it yours or is it mine?"
"It's yours, sir."
"I see. And what purpose do you serve, Victoria? You are the caretaker of my pussy, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You maintain my pussy for me. You make sure that it is ready for me when I want it, isn't that the way it is?"
"Yes, sir."
I hear a swish in the air and I feel a scorching pain across my crotch as the whip strikes it directly. I double over involuntarily, my wrists straining tightly against the rope that binds them behind my back.
"Tell me, then, Victoria. What the fuck are you doing using my pussy without my permission?" His tone no longer implies danger. The danger is present. The tone itself is danger.
I breathe deeply and straighten myself back onto my knees. "I'm sorry, sir."
The whip bites again. The white heat of its contact runs from the softness of my stomach and down between my legs.
"Don't tell me you're sorry," he says while I am still bent over and gasping. "You're not sorry yet. You are not sorry until I have made you sorry, until I have seen for myself that you are sorry, and until I say you are sorry."
"Yes, sir."
"So tell me. Were you being deliberately disobedient? You knew how I would feel about it, didn't you?"
"I knew you would be upset with me if you found out, sir."
"And that is why you did it?"
"No, sir," I say. "I couldn't help it." The humiliation is evident on my face. My blush extends all the way down my body. Or is that my arousal? My skin feels very hot in the cool air of the room.
1119461560
Excerpt:
"I'm sorry, sir," I say, more to fill the silence than out of any hope that he will forgive so easily. I can feel a bit of saliva pooling in my mouth as I watch him toying with the whip. I am simultaneously chagrined and excited by what is about to happen. But this waiting, this anticipation as I try to watch him without moving my head, is not a good thing. I do not like waiting this way, and I know he can tell.
"I keep you on a regular schedule," he muses at last. "I don't see why you would have difficulty waking up at the proper time, provided that you sleep at the proper time."
I stay silent, as he wants me to be.
"Were you asleep at your proper time last night?" he asks.
"No, sir," I admit, trying not to count as my sins accumulate and with them the impending punishments.
"You were told to be asleep before midnight," he goes on. "How far beyond that were you awake?"
I resist the compulsion to answer truthfully as long as I can. "Until two, sir," I say at last.
"Two?" he repeats. "And yet I finished with you before eleven thirty. What were you doing that was so pressing? Or were you just trying to be disobedient?"
I feel a flush rise in my cheeks and hesitate before answering.
"Tell me, Victoria." He almost purrs as he says it, like a cat trying to coax a mouse out of its hole. He can tell just by my reaction that he won't like my answer.
"I got distracted, sir," I say.
His hands pass through my field of vision again. The strip of leather is taught over his strong hands. "I see. And what was that distraction?"
I swallow and the blush on my cheeks deepens. "I was masturbating, sir."
"Masturbating?"
"Yes, sir."
"I see."
He nudges at my groin with the toe of his shoe, parting my broad thighs and sending a shiver up my body. The polished leather feels incredible as it rubs against my engorged lips.
"Whose pussy is that, Victoria?" he asks, very quietly. "Is it yours or is it mine?"
"It's yours, sir."
"I see. And what purpose do you serve, Victoria? You are the caretaker of my pussy, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You maintain my pussy for me. You make sure that it is ready for me when I want it, isn't that the way it is?"
"Yes, sir."
I hear a swish in the air and I feel a scorching pain across my crotch as the whip strikes it directly. I double over involuntarily, my wrists straining tightly against the rope that binds them behind my back.
"Tell me, then, Victoria. What the fuck are you doing using my pussy without my permission?" His tone no longer implies danger. The danger is present. The tone itself is danger.
I breathe deeply and straighten myself back onto my knees. "I'm sorry, sir."
The whip bites again. The white heat of its contact runs from the softness of my stomach and down between my legs.
"Don't tell me you're sorry," he says while I am still bent over and gasping. "You're not sorry yet. You are not sorry until I have made you sorry, until I have seen for myself that you are sorry, and until I say you are sorry."
"Yes, sir."
"So tell me. Were you being deliberately disobedient? You knew how I would feel about it, didn't you?"
"I knew you would be upset with me if you found out, sir."
"And that is why you did it?"
"No, sir," I say. "I couldn't help it." The humiliation is evident on my face. My blush extends all the way down my body. Or is that my arousal? My skin feels very hot in the cool air of the room.
His Soft Toy (BBW, BDSM, Discipline, Denial)
As much as her master appreciates Victoria's soft, curvy, submissive body, her behavior can leave something to be desired. On a morning when she oversleeps and goes to him later than expected, his interrogation reveals that she often touches herself after their sessions together when he has not allowed her release. Her disobedience, her master informs her, reveals not only that she does not understand what it is to obey, but that she does not understand the great pleasure and gratitude that lie within true submission. But lest she worry, he is here to instruct her.
Excerpt:
"I'm sorry, sir," I say, more to fill the silence than out of any hope that he will forgive so easily. I can feel a bit of saliva pooling in my mouth as I watch him toying with the whip. I am simultaneously chagrined and excited by what is about to happen. But this waiting, this anticipation as I try to watch him without moving my head, is not a good thing. I do not like waiting this way, and I know he can tell.
"I keep you on a regular schedule," he muses at last. "I don't see why you would have difficulty waking up at the proper time, provided that you sleep at the proper time."
I stay silent, as he wants me to be.
"Were you asleep at your proper time last night?" he asks.
"No, sir," I admit, trying not to count as my sins accumulate and with them the impending punishments.
"You were told to be asleep before midnight," he goes on. "How far beyond that were you awake?"
I resist the compulsion to answer truthfully as long as I can. "Until two, sir," I say at last.
"Two?" he repeats. "And yet I finished with you before eleven thirty. What were you doing that was so pressing? Or were you just trying to be disobedient?"
I feel a flush rise in my cheeks and hesitate before answering.
"Tell me, Victoria." He almost purrs as he says it, like a cat trying to coax a mouse out of its hole. He can tell just by my reaction that he won't like my answer.
"I got distracted, sir," I say.
His hands pass through my field of vision again. The strip of leather is taught over his strong hands. "I see. And what was that distraction?"
I swallow and the blush on my cheeks deepens. "I was masturbating, sir."
"Masturbating?"
"Yes, sir."
"I see."
He nudges at my groin with the toe of his shoe, parting my broad thighs and sending a shiver up my body. The polished leather feels incredible as it rubs against my engorged lips.
"Whose pussy is that, Victoria?" he asks, very quietly. "Is it yours or is it mine?"
"It's yours, sir."
"I see. And what purpose do you serve, Victoria? You are the caretaker of my pussy, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You maintain my pussy for me. You make sure that it is ready for me when I want it, isn't that the way it is?"
"Yes, sir."
I hear a swish in the air and I feel a scorching pain across my crotch as the whip strikes it directly. I double over involuntarily, my wrists straining tightly against the rope that binds them behind my back.
"Tell me, then, Victoria. What the fuck are you doing using my pussy without my permission?" His tone no longer implies danger. The danger is present. The tone itself is danger.
I breathe deeply and straighten myself back onto my knees. "I'm sorry, sir."
The whip bites again. The white heat of its contact runs from the softness of my stomach and down between my legs.
"Don't tell me you're sorry," he says while I am still bent over and gasping. "You're not sorry yet. You are not sorry until I have made you sorry, until I have seen for myself that you are sorry, and until I say you are sorry."
"Yes, sir."
"So tell me. Were you being deliberately disobedient? You knew how I would feel about it, didn't you?"
"I knew you would be upset with me if you found out, sir."
"And that is why you did it?"
"No, sir," I say. "I couldn't help it." The humiliation is evident on my face. My blush extends all the way down my body. Or is that my arousal? My skin feels very hot in the cool air of the room.
Excerpt:
"I'm sorry, sir," I say, more to fill the silence than out of any hope that he will forgive so easily. I can feel a bit of saliva pooling in my mouth as I watch him toying with the whip. I am simultaneously chagrined and excited by what is about to happen. But this waiting, this anticipation as I try to watch him without moving my head, is not a good thing. I do not like waiting this way, and I know he can tell.
"I keep you on a regular schedule," he muses at last. "I don't see why you would have difficulty waking up at the proper time, provided that you sleep at the proper time."
I stay silent, as he wants me to be.
"Were you asleep at your proper time last night?" he asks.
"No, sir," I admit, trying not to count as my sins accumulate and with them the impending punishments.
"You were told to be asleep before midnight," he goes on. "How far beyond that were you awake?"
I resist the compulsion to answer truthfully as long as I can. "Until two, sir," I say at last.
"Two?" he repeats. "And yet I finished with you before eleven thirty. What were you doing that was so pressing? Or were you just trying to be disobedient?"
I feel a flush rise in my cheeks and hesitate before answering.
"Tell me, Victoria." He almost purrs as he says it, like a cat trying to coax a mouse out of its hole. He can tell just by my reaction that he won't like my answer.
"I got distracted, sir," I say.
His hands pass through my field of vision again. The strip of leather is taught over his strong hands. "I see. And what was that distraction?"
I swallow and the blush on my cheeks deepens. "I was masturbating, sir."
"Masturbating?"
"Yes, sir."
"I see."
He nudges at my groin with the toe of his shoe, parting my broad thighs and sending a shiver up my body. The polished leather feels incredible as it rubs against my engorged lips.
"Whose pussy is that, Victoria?" he asks, very quietly. "Is it yours or is it mine?"
"It's yours, sir."
"I see. And what purpose do you serve, Victoria? You are the caretaker of my pussy, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You maintain my pussy for me. You make sure that it is ready for me when I want it, isn't that the way it is?"
"Yes, sir."
I hear a swish in the air and I feel a scorching pain across my crotch as the whip strikes it directly. I double over involuntarily, my wrists straining tightly against the rope that binds them behind my back.
"Tell me, then, Victoria. What the fuck are you doing using my pussy without my permission?" His tone no longer implies danger. The danger is present. The tone itself is danger.
I breathe deeply and straighten myself back onto my knees. "I'm sorry, sir."
The whip bites again. The white heat of its contact runs from the softness of my stomach and down between my legs.
"Don't tell me you're sorry," he says while I am still bent over and gasping. "You're not sorry yet. You are not sorry until I have made you sorry, until I have seen for myself that you are sorry, and until I say you are sorry."
"Yes, sir."
"So tell me. Were you being deliberately disobedient? You knew how I would feel about it, didn't you?"
"I knew you would be upset with me if you found out, sir."
"And that is why you did it?"
"No, sir," I say. "I couldn't help it." The humiliation is evident on my face. My blush extends all the way down my body. Or is that my arousal? My skin feels very hot in the cool air of the room.
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His Soft Toy (BBW, BDSM, Discipline, Denial)
His Soft Toy (BBW, BDSM, Discipline, Denial)
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940149408894 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | The Red Spot Press |
| Publication date: | 05/09/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 2 MB |
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