BONDAGE | SUBMISSION | ILLUSTRATED STORY

Her submission is complete. In bondage she is merely a puppet for her master’s pleasure.

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Have you ever submitted to a stranger. Let an unknown person take control of your body, use it for whatever they desire? This is not about trust, this is about taking risks, about the adrenaline rush. Like the mountaineer scaling the unreachable peak or the skier racing down a near vertical run, it is the thrill of the challenge that ignites my soul.

He is sat in the darkness beyond the stage. All I can see is an outline of his form.

I am stripped for inspection, wearing only silky white underwear. He does not speak. A hand appears in the light, one finger pointing upwards as it waves in a slow circle. I turn and feel his eyes on me.

His finger points to the box beside me. I open the lid. Nestling on the top of the contents, glistening in the light is a collar. It is a symbol of my submission. Whilst I wear it I am his, to command, to use for his pleasure. Subserving my own desires but serving them at the same time.

There is no hesitation. I take the collar from the box and clip it around my neck. Unclipping my bra, I drop it in the box, anxious to show my compliance.

He points again. There are more objects in the box. Long black gloves which I pull on and wristbands joined by a chain which I slip on and pull tight.

At his command I turn around, displaying myself and then he speaks just one word.

“Panties.” His voice deep and firm.

I slip them down and drop them in the box beside my bra. My cunt is wet, my lips swollen as the excitement of my display starts to seep through me.

I show myself like a harlot in an ancient slave market but for me this is no forced display. My pussy is tingling, its lips flowering and my nipples are hard.

There is one last item in the box. Manacles linked by a heavier chain than the wrist bands. My final submission.

Eagerly I clip them around my ankles and add more to my wrists. Now like a fly caught in a spiders web I lay back languidly awaiting my fate. He could come and fuck me now. I would relish it. My cunt is stirring, my mouth, my ass all are ready, primed, and calling out to be filled.

More chains drop from the ceiling and I clip them to the manacles around my wrist and ankles. The spiders web is woven. I cannot move except at his command.

An unseen force pulls on the chains, spreading my legs and displaying my open cunt.

Now finally he steps into the light, his face anonymous, masked. His cock standing proud and hard. It rams into my wet cunt as I jerk against the chains and my puppet master fills me to the core.

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