Jane

Jane normally liked to be submissive. She loved having no control and letting the man take her to her limits, but tonight was that rare exception. Whenever she found a man willing to go as far as she, herself, would, she relished playing dominatrix for the evening. In part, this was because it helped her to understand her own masters, but it also gave a vicarious experience, as she could imagine herself receiving the punishments she inflicted on them. She also knew that, lurking in the back of her mind, was an evil part of herself that loved to get some “revenge”.

It also gave her the chance to “power dress”. Over the sexiest of satin lingerie that she knew her sub would never see, she had taken a long time to almost pour herself into a latex catsuit. Tonight it was red and it almost gleamed from the oiling. With the addition of the hood and the strict leather corset, she felt both dominated by her own clothes and, with a look in the mirror, could see how men would immediately want to worship her. She strapped on a belt and tucked her cat-o-nine-tails into it.

She checked her watch and saw that there were just five minutes until he would arrive. She hoped he would be late, because she had already made it clear how much each minute late would hurt. She took a moment to look again through his list of limits. She had to be certain where his hard limits lay, as she prided herself on never crossing them. Every now and then a sub would claim to be able to take more than he or she really could, even though she made it clear that there would be no safe words and they would be bound and gagged much of the time. That evil part of herself rather liked it when they lied or exaggerated and wound up paying for it in stripes.

The doorbell rang. She chose, as usual, to make him wait. She looked in the mirror and was happy to see that her wide mouth was showing so well through the hood in its purple lip-gloss. Her eyes held that allure under the pale blue make-up that contrasted so well with the red of the hood. The doorbell rang again. “He is impatient,” she thought, and resolved then to make sure she gave no quarter to this one.

She opened the door, deliberately stepping back a pace so he could get a good look at her outfit. His mouth fell open as though he were about to say something, but no sounds came out. His pupils dilating told her she had had the desired effect. She said nothing, but just raised an eyebrow, questioningly. It took him a moment to raise his eyes to hers and he started to speak, but it was garbled. He put out a trembling hand to be shaken. She grabbed it, pulled him inside so hard that he stumbled to the floor. She pushed the door closed, glared at him and said “Strip!” then left the room.

When she returned a couple of minute later, sipping on a glass of rather delicate white wine, she found him naked, still sat where he had fallen, his clothes in a rough pile nearby. She could actually see him trembling and, at that moment, so hoped he had not exaggerated his limits. “Hands,” she said, and, when he extended them, she cuffed him, making sure they were just slightly too tight. He winced, but did not try to cry out.

She pulled him up and led him to the back room, where she attached his cuffed hands to a hook in the ceiling. Then she went and grabbed his boxer shorts and stuffed them into his mouth, noting that he suppressed his gagging, so took a roll of insulating tape and wrapped it around his head several times, ensuring that the shorts could not come out. Then she felt that evil part of herself pushing to have a little fun, so she got out her inflatable butt plug and inserted it into him and slowly inflated it until he started to groan. “Is that too much?” she asked, using the sweetest of tones. He shook his head, so she squeezed the pump a couple more times. He groaned loudly and doubled over as far as his restraints allowed. “Too much now?” she asked and he nodded vigorously. “Good,” she said, and pumped the bulb several more times and, ignoring his desperate moans, left the room.

Back in the living room, she sat down and took a deep breath and a long draught of her wine. She could still hear him distantly moaning and it was turning her evil side on too much. Without realising it, she had started to rub her crotch and found herself orgasming in moments. Somewhat ashamed of herself, but knowing what she had to do, she decided to keep her damp panties on and, after another glass of wine, she went back to the other room.

She could see from his eyes that he was suffering. She could not be certain, but it looked as though this was a case where her sub had exaggerated a little. She released much of the air from the butt plug and he emitted a short sob of relief. She then knew she had gone too far, but she had warned him to be honest about what he could take and that evil part of herself was quite satisfied that he had been punished for his dishonesty. It was now a matter of finding out where else he had been dishonest.

She got some rope and tied his ankles to hooks in the floor, forcing his legs wide. Then she removed the butt plug and found he was starting to get turned on, as his cock was semi-erect. This one was not submitting enough. She took some rope and bound it around the base of his cock, pulling it as tight as she dared, then around each of his balls, again as tight as she dared. He could stay erect whether he wanted to or not – she might make use of that later.

Time for the main course, as it were. She pulled out her whip and gave him a strong lash across his back, just above the buttocks. His muffled scream was just perfect; something about the tone told her that this really was not his first time. With confidence, then, she gave him two swift lashes across his buttocks and saw with delight that a welt was already raised. Time, she thought, to raise the stakes. She took a large crocodile clip and clamped one of his testicles. She was delighted that he tried to double over but managed not to squeal too loud. She gave his back a few lashes, then put a clip on the other testicle. She noted that tears had formed in his eyes, but the sense of being able to control another person was filling her with adrenaline now.

She lashed his back and ass several times. The adrenaline rush had taken over and she lost track of how long she did this, but when she paused and looked, his whole back was a mess of welts, with many of them oozing blood. He was clearly in distress, sobbing uncontrollably, and she felt terrible, even though she knew that she had not violated what he had claimed to be his hard limits. She went and got a box of sterile wipes and gently began to tend his wounds. For every one she cleaned, she felt a need to kiss it several times, which made him shudder. Once the bleeding had stopped, she applied a soothing balm that would help promote healing, caressing his back and buttocks. Clearly, he had not expected this and nor would he have known how erotic it would be. He began to shudder uncontrollably. Jane became ever more aroused. When it became too much, she unzipped her catsuit and pulled out her throbbing penis and inserted it into his ass. Moments later, they were both crying out in ecstasy.

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