CW - Blood, fear play, breath play (choking), death threats, very d/s, "hard"
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One last tug secures the chains to a hook on the floor while the click of a padlock audibly finishes the job. Smiling she stands up, looking at her work. Hands tied behind its back, secured to the floor with cold, heavy metal chains on its naked skin along with its feet, forced to sit on its knees one way or another. Covered with nothing but those restraints. Yes, this is how it should be. Make it feel the cold. Make it feel the shackles, the total control over its body. After all, it wants to show devotion, it wants to show its absolute will and desire to full and unquestioning submission. Well then, let it do so. She grabs its head, forcing it to look upwards. “Look at me. And don’t you dare close those eyes or wander off even for a second.” Pressing a long, thin heel of one of her knee high boots into its hands, ramming it straight into the floor, she forces its face exactly to where it is, staring directly into its eyes, taking in every pitiful squeal, every single expression within every single moment. ~Oh my little one~ she thinks, admiring the beauty of its pain, ~we’re only just beginning~. Releasing it she frees its hand, her heel audibly clicking on the white tiles made dirty through years of active use. Slowly, she walks to the end of the room, making sure every click is strong and perceptible, and grabs one of the many loose, freshly disinfected chains she has before going back to it, this time directly facing it. As she squats down to its height she wraps the chain around one of her arms and, with her now free hand, slowly reaches towards its cheek, caressing it softly. She looks at it, smiling. But that smile isn’t gentle, isn’t friendly. It is the threatening smile of someone who knows exactly that there is no escaping her grip, no escaping the full reach her cruelty born out of her lust for pleasure. And so, while keeping her eyes straight at it she slowly lowers her hand, drawing it closer to its neck, while the other one grabs it by the back of its head.
“You want a taste of my power, a taste of what it means to be mine? You want to serve me, to be allowed to please and satisfy me? Then beg. Beg with your whole body, from your face to your feet. Beg, with every muscle you possess, every twitch you can muster. Beg” she says, pausing for a moment to close her eyes, put her head to her back, giving off a slight moan of pleasure in anticipation, before looking back at it, this time pressing thumb and index right into its throat: “as if your life depended on it.”
And as she starts squeezing she grabs the back of its head firmly, securing it in its place, not letting it turn away, not allowing it to let go of her gaze even once. Not a split-second of rest. And what a beautiful sight it offered, eyes full of fear, terror and pain written on its face, its lips moving, trying to say something but to paralyzed to speak as she stares unwavering at it, enjoying each and every second offered to her in this beautiful gift it has given her today.
With a nod of satisfaction she lets go entirely, slowly removing her arms away from it while it shakes and falls forward exhausted. Untying the chain of her arm she gets up again. “Well, you have earned what you asked, what you came here for. I will give you a taste of my power, a very special one.”
“Oh, do stay down though, stay right where you are. Face to the ground, now.”
Placing a boot on its head she forces it down. Its back now turned upwards, free and completely exposed, she starts whipping it, using her chain as an instrument, striking hard, striking with force, aiming for pain, aiming to draw blood, taking in every scream, every cry of agony, until its body is a network of deep red pools and her chains are covered in blood. Finally satisfied she stops and releases it. Stepping around it, still holding the chains she gets down and releases it from its restraints, watching with a smile as it collapses to the ground, its breath deep and audible from the torment it was put through. She holds her chains in front of it and gives a firm, simple command: “lick”. With the eagerness only one in its headspace can muster it starts sucking of its own blood as she watches, almost laughing at this adorable display, this pathetic act of service, before throwing it away somewhere to the other side of the room. “Oh, you really are a fun one to play with.” Putting one boot on its body, much gentler this time whilst still noticeable, she continues: “you have deserved your new place. And I very much look forward to all the pleasure we will share together.”
END
Notes: available under " # lnxkink " on fedi with today's (UTC) publishing date. Feedback, as always, appreciated.