Submission - A Scant Narrative


Anal, Bdsm, Erotica, Hardcore, Humiliation
FOREWARD

This is a phonograph record of a illusion, not an attempt to describe a real life donjon, about which I know almost nothing.

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He opened the door at the bottom of the three footfall for his companion and stood aside as she entered. She was beautiful and beautifully dressed. but they had no personal family relationship. Their only connection was that he had signed up to let her do anything she wanted to him. And he had agreed to do anything at all that she required of him. No limits. No rubber words.

The club space was dim. There was a small gathering of well dressed couples sitting at cocktail table and a low stage, less than a foot high.

His companion gently touched his cubitus and guided him to the level. She faced the audience, `` This is my contribution for the evening, Neil Henry Cavendish. '' Cavendish flinched a niggling at hearing his real epithet spoken aloud. `` I hope you enjoy him. ``

She continued, `` Now, Neil, please remove all your clothes. You can put them on that work bench. ``

Cavendish removed his tie and proceeded with the rest. He was leaning, but muscled. He did n't plane his body. He knew he looked good, but took more pleasure in the public picture. He stood straight swell up halfway to an erection, and let his hired man hang loose at his sides,

The cleaning lady, whose gens was Rosalind, came up to him and placed her hand on his implements of war. `` turn of events and face the room, please. '' Then she stepped close behind him, she could just fit her chin over his shoulder, and threaded her arms under his. He could experience her breasts and hips and the hem of her wide frock as it swayed against his calves. She turned her hands so her nails pressed into his chest and dragged them down through his chest hair and across his belly to his os pubis. She dug her knuckles in and pulled on the hairsbreadth slowly but viciously. Cavendish could not suppress a grimace of pain, but his hard-on rose to completion. `` There, '' she said with some satisfaction, and gave it a sharp slap.

An involuntary erotic cramp coursed through his lower abdomen, shifting his erection. The onlookers murmured approval and one clapped. He felt a prime of embarrassment pass over him, also visible, and he basked in his humiliation.

'' OK, now go over to those postal service. Face the way and hold on the handles. '' There were two posts, a couple of feet taller than he was, fastened to the storey, with shaped wooden stick, like straight coating hooks, protruding from near the top. Cavendish extended his arms up and out, just short of discomfort, and grasped them.

Next she instructed him to place his feet outside of two pairs of small-scale mental block fastened to the trading floor just inside the military post. Each pair had a space about three inches between them. This allowed his foot to rest flat on the floor without his ankles touching the blocks. This left his balls hanging free and vulnerable.

'' This form of restraint tells us that you want us to hurt you. You could let go at any metre, of grade. But until you do, we 're glad to sustain you displayed and approachable. ``

Displayed and approachable. Cavendish closed his eyes to savor the word of honor. Displayed and approachable, display and accessible. This time his belly and second joint and back and buttocks all spasmed in visceral delight.

Rosalind went to a board at the side of the microscope stage and picked up a tongue. It was a strange flesh, almost triangular. Only about six or seven inches long, but almost two inches widely at the hilt, and tapering acutely to what looked like a needle-sharp point. Perhaps it really was a needle, somehow fixed to the tip.

She held it up to Cavendish 's gaze and placed the tip against her forefinger and pressed until there was a small driblet of origin. She smiled at Henry Cavendish as if to say `` See ? '' and then placed her finger against his lips. He obediently sucked off the blood.

Then she placed the flat of the knife gently along the side of the knife alongside his egg and pushed them to the side, looking up at him provocatively. She did it again from the other side. He swelled even further.

Next she pricked his breast, coming provocatively close to the center of his mammilla, and then his abdominal cavity. You could n't promise it pain, but diminutive drops of ancestry ran down in rivulets. He gripped the peg down harder ; his totally physical structure was so awash in resignation he feared he would light. Then she pricked him on either side of the base of his hammer. These pricking actually caused real pain that expanded up to his navel point. His erection, far from withering, became even stronger, crying out for the same treatment. But she gave him no relief.

'' Alright, now turn around and position your hands and feet again. '' He turned and grabbed the oarlock the former way. He fixed his feet against the braces and presented his backside to the assemblage. Another woman mounted the stage, and, standing at the side, so as not to impede the consultation 's opinion, leaned into his back. He could feel her chest pressing into him. She placed her hired man on his buttocks from above. She paused for a few moments before working her fingerbreadth into the cleft. This should have been one of the most innocuous consequence of the evening, but Cavendish felt like she was grasping his whole being. His testicles swelled further and touched his spread thigh. His shoal external respiration quickened. She pulled his buttocks apart, exposing him to the audience. Rosalind stood to the other side and gently touched his anus. Henry Cavendish 's hammer throbbed. He took a deep breath and surrendered to the possibility of being cut. Rosalind did n't injure him there but did cock up his buttocks in half a dozen places. The submission elicited by each prick was piquant. At each point the pain faded into the feel of a persisting mark of degradation, pushing him to a peak of arousal. This discharged some of his sexual latent hostility but his putz remained rigid and hard.

Rosalind wiped the traces of blood from his body with a cloth dampened with an styptic and then said, `` comprehend your articulatio radiocarpea behind your backrest and come with me, '' and led him to a small open up blank in the plaza of the tables. As he passed by various people caressed his erection, or flicked it sideways, but never grabbed or squeezed or rubbed the way he wanted to do himself.

'' Get down on your knees. '' Henry Cavendish complied. They left him there for a bit, long enough for his subservient pose to take clutch of his consciousness. Small muscle spasm flickered in his belly. `` Now bend over so your ass is in the air. '' He kept his manpower locked on his carpus and lay the side of his face on the floor. The floor was highly shine and clean and when his cheek was pressed against it, it was not uncomfortable. He reveled in his degrading position as several of the hearing extremity stood up for a effective view.

One woman was wearing heel with very pointed toes. She pushed one into his anus and worked it around. Cavendish could palpate it in his cock. Then she withdrew it and placed the sole of the brake shoe on his hip and pushed hard. He fell over on his side, but did n't let go of his wrists. He lay there, relishing his berth under the gaze of the audience.

A man stepped forward from the group. `` Get up. '' He was much Cavendish 's height and build and he was dressed very like Cavendish had been when he arrived. Beautifully tailored slacks and sportswoman coating. A fall greyish shirt and subtly patterned tie. Standing facing him deliciously accentuated Cavendish 's nakedness. His skin became even more sensitized from his articulatio humeri to the flooring. He wanted to be touched. Touched anywhere. But the man just said, `` Go over to that fount. Stand to one side, facing it. ``

Cavendish did as directed and the man came with him. He stood very secretive and talked quietly. `` We know you desire to be bound and whipped and raped. And we 'll do all that. But right now it 's about ascendence. You 're going to come. But only when I tell you. Not until and not unless. Do you empathize ? ``

'' Yes. ``

Then the man placed his hand firmly on the nape of Henry Cavendish 's neck, reminiscent of how one would constrain a dog or a cat. It caused a jolt of wiz to course through his torso. Next he touched the underside of Cavendish 's balls with the back of his thumbnail and slowly drew it up his cock to the tip. Cavendish had already been throbbing with need, but this igniter prideful jot pushed him to the edge. Then the man put his rima oris close to Cavendish 's ear. Cavendish could feel his intimation. He said quietly, but firmly, `` Now ! ``

Cavendish 's hips bucked. He panted loudly. He contracted inside and sent cum spraying into the outflow over and over. If not for the manus on his cervix and now the early on his chest he would have fallen over. When he was spent he sank to the flooring, still with his arms clasped behind him.

Afterward Cavendish was guided through the tables back to the heart of the floor. Another man approached him, again, of the same age and build as himself. `` Hello. I 'm Antony. '' Cavendish looked steadily into the other 's eyes and an simulacrum flashed in his mind of them sitting opposite each other at some league table, and the minute of recognition. Cavendish felt a modest shudder of anticipation.

'' As we understand it, you 've never been with a man ? Correct ? ``

'' Correct. ``

'' fountainhead, that must be remedied. '' He drew the vertebral column of his script down Cavendish 's body and along his flaccid member. `` Please kneel. ``

Cavendish did as he was asked, wrists still clasped, and various other men in the audience rose. They took off their affiliation and jackets and rolled up their sleeve. Four of them approached Henry Cavendish. His heart pounded against his ribs at the care and expectation of the unknown as two of them knelt on the flooring and put both hands on his calfskin. Then two others grasped his forearms and forced them to the floor.

Next the men holding his calf pulled them apart, just under the stage of pain in the ass.

Cavendish had committed himself to swallow whatever was inflicted on him that even, but an atavistic indigence to fight back caused him to struggle. This only served to demonstrate how helpless he was.

His field of vision comprised mostly the hands of the man holding his right arm and the crinkle of his gasp pressing into his swell testicles. Cavendish was mesmerized. It was only his sensation of feeling that told him a man had knelt between his thigh. His morass rubbed against Cavendish 's sensitized peel. Hands were placed on his hips and then came the pressure on his anus. Nothing more happened for some bit. Just the mild insistence of the head of a cock against an anus, fourth dimension for Henry Cavendish to plunge what was happening and for his own cock to swell. Then he was penetrated. He endeavored to relax, but there was no lubrication, and the dry detrition caused him great pain as the stopcock was driven in and out of his body. But fall to real pain sensation was all the sweeter and Henry Cavendish swelled Thomas More and more with each thrust.

Then came a console change as the early climaxed and slowly drew out his softening and now well lubricated cock. Cavendish felt almost bereft when it was gone. He felt his photo vividly when the man stood up and his thigh and ass were once again revealed. A thrill travelled from his pelvic arch to his lag calves.

Another came and knelt and fight hard into Cavendish. But this meter he was well lubricated and could generate himself up completely to the invasion. The irritation caused by the first assault now enhanced what was happening. His erection was as strong as he 'd ever have it away it.

The man holding his right forearm stood up and moved to his tail end and was replaced by another. Before he entered Henry Cavendish, he slapped him hard on each cheek. This seemed to force more blood into Cavendish 's genitals and the resultant stinging pain was a reference of pleasure. This one 's prick was the thick-skulled of the three, but Cavendish was now totally receptive. He welcomed the drive but was frustrated with his need for release. He needed to be stroked. And then his wish was granted. He heard the swish of a woman 's wench and felt her moistened deal close around the base of his shaft. She stroked him in synchronization with the thrusts in his rear, up and back, up and back. They must be a duad. Until finally both men exploded. His sleeve and wooden leg were released and he fell on his side of meat again, still panting deeply.

Presently someone took his hand and helped him up. The audience was still standing around him and watched intently when he was given a wet towel and could wipe off his ass and his thighs and his cock. He stood for a few mo, with the towel pressed between his stage while the juices of the three men drained out of him. Then someone took the towel and Rosalind him led back to the stage.

There was now a cage-like anatomical structure on the stagecoach. It consisted of two traffic circle of metal tubing, about three feet in diameter. These were connected by five cut metal situation, equidistant except for a wider opening in the nominal head. It was positioned with one circle on the floor and one at the top. There were lowly metal rings attached to the posts at separation. Cavendish was directed to fend in the centre and face the audience.

Another woman joined Rosalind, bringing with her two minor commode. They positioned the BM to either side of Henry Cavendish, stepped up on them, their full wench brushing his peg, and attached cuff to his carpus. They were lined with parchment and a yearn corduroy was attached. They stretched the corduroy up to the top of the coop and threaded them through two humble rings. Cavendish 's arms were raised above him as far as they would go without discomfort and the cords were tied off.

Next the each took a long strap made of flimsy leather, about three inches wide. They looped the strap around Cavendish 's thighs a picayune above the knees and nudged his legs apart as far as possible while keeping his feet flat on the level. When they tied them off through two to a greater extent low halo Cavendish was left immobilize and display. He savored the photograph and the anticipation of what would happen next.

He was initially puzzled by the coming into court in their hands of two piece of fabric, shaped like an elongated quarter moon with strings attached to the convex side and joining to form a distance of twine. With both working together, one woman pulled one buttock hard to the side and the other affixed the fabric, which was covered with a strong adhesive on one side, to the cutis, almost touching his anus. She pulled the cord taut and tied it off in a ring. Then the two moved to the former English and repeated the evasive action. The cords pressed into his flesh, creating their own eroticized region. Cavendish could feel the air between his face, telling him he was completely exposed, as the cleaning lady stood behind him, admiring their work.

Next a parchment lined dog collar was placed around his neck and tied to the rod in the spine of the cage.

After that clamps with serrated border were fastened to his nipples. They were very sore but caused a surge of pleasure in his rooster. Each clamp was tied to a hoop in the side rod. The pain slowly faded and was endurable unless he moved too far or breathed too deeply.

Small clamps were similarly fastened to the bound of his omphalos, causing the same sort of pain/pleasure champion as the nipple clamps.

By this prison term he was halfway to a full erection, but it was top that Rosalind needed more to complete her oeuvre. She took him between her palms and slowly rolled his penis back and Forth River. She bent over and took him in her mouth and inserted her clapper in the slit at the end. Cavendish closed his oculus and lost himself in the swelling of his cock. It became as hard as he 'd ever screw it. But for the cord tying his nipples and bellybutton he would throw thrust into her to try to get succour.

Rosalind reflectively drew her fingerbreadth along the now square line from his bollock to the end of his putz and smiled in satisfaction. Her assistant handed her a gadget made of two slice of leather, stapled together at each end, with o.k. irons attached. She slipped it over Cavendish 's blind drunk cock, positioning it in the middle, midway between the root and the tip. She attached the chains to gang in the swagger at the side. She pulled them taut enough to squeeze his hard-on, but only to tantalize. Like a hand stopped in mid stroke.

Lastly she inserted a bullet shaped hack, about the size of Henry Cavendish 's thumb into his rectum, past the tintinnabulation of his anus, taking forethought to let him see its construction first. A thin chemical chain was attached to the flat end and she stretched that to a anchor ring on the strut in back. Just enough so it could be felt, and have discomfort if he moved forward and pain if he moved forward further. It had gone in smoothly, but it was brighten that it would injure mightily when it was pulled out.

As a parting gesture, she placed her palms on Cavendish 's legs, right at the top. He was slim but his sinew were well defined, and she was able to slowly follow the contour of one on each thigh down and across nearly to the inside of his human knee. Then she lightly pulled in various situation on the scatter of tomentum on his thighs, the intimacy causing cramp that tugged at the chemical chain linked to his ass and his cock.

'' There ! '' she announced to the interview. `` You can now come and do what you want to him. Let 's have two tables at a prison term, OK ? Just do n't loosen any chasteness. ``

professorship scraped and a belittled radical approached. Some of them first stopped to reckon Cavendish in the eye. Some smirked. Some were severe. Cavendish endeavored to consecrate himself to whomever made such contact. Each took it in bit so he could focus on what was being done to him. One woman pressed her belly against his erection and reached around to toy with the chemical chain emerging from his exhibit anus, all the time giving him a come-hither look worthy of a 1940s plastic film. A man stared at him like a schoolyard bully while he took his cue from Rosalind 's possible action of the evening and pulled on his pubic tomentum until Henry Cavendish let out a cry of pain. Another char simply smoothed his hair back from his forehead and cradled his dangling testicles in her helping hand. For those who chose not to hold his regard he closed his centre and allowed himself to be a thing for their titillation. One such person pinched him laborious multiple times in versatile places. Each initial trace of their fingerbreadth was as thrilling as the pain that followed. Some tugged gently on the nipple clinch. mortal, he could n't secernate if it was a man or woman, massaged the area between his anus and his egg with their knuckles, causing the muscles in his thighs to spasm.

He did n't go hardened to what was happening. On the contrary, each look and touch modality caused a intimate thrill throughout his hypersensitised body, caused his need for release to intensify.

Finally the audience had returned to their rump and Rosalind removed the leather collar from his erection, kneeled in forepart of him and took him in her mouth. She sucked and stroked. When she saw that he was cook to amount she moved to the side. Cavendish threw his point back and emitted long low moan to acquit some of the tautness. His need to stay immobile barely overpower his need to issue his unscathed organic structure to the orgasm. But the rootage of his belly did all the workplace, contracting inside over and over, shooting semen into the air, passing through his phallus with a needlelike sensation of pleasure like he had not felt before.

He was near collapse but could n't slouch because of the collar around his cervix, so he grabbed custody of the chains attached to his handlock and let himself hang.

Eventually Rosalind and her helper released him. first-class honours degree they took some prison term with some application to undress the fabric off his buttocks. Then they released his branch so he could stand up straight. Cavendish reveled in the substitute of being capable to take his legs together with his ass in a rule position. Next they unhooked his manacles. He was deliberate not to hit the cord attached to his nipple and navel as he let his arms down to sweet rest. Rosalind eased the plug from his rectum by tilting it position to side.

She unhooked the corduroys holding his nipples and umbilicus, but left them hanging from his consistency for a few consequence before removing them.

'' You can sit here on the boundary of the stage and pillow a bit. '' Neil sank down and she handed him a bottleful of water.

He took various cryptic drunkenness and then rested his weapons system on his second joint and placed his forehead on his coat of arms, exhausted. Some moments later Rosalind sat down side by side to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. `` We were going to whip you, but I 'm really tired. Just wiped out. And I think you are too, so I 'm going to ring it a day. ``

Neil lifted his head and turned to her with a low smile of acknowledgment, but said nothing.

The assemblage were standing up already and heading for the door. Rosalind said, `` The door will lock on their own. Would you turn out the Inner Light when you leave ? '' He nodded and she left .
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