Desperate Desire (story)

Mistress and Sir are smirking at me.

Earlier, I was ordered to come to them straight after work. They made me stand in the almost empty room, under the one light again. The camera's red light came on; we were streaming.

Sir wore his normal black suit and hood. Mistress was her beautiful self, all in leather, blonde hair in a bun, smelling like jasmine, blue eyes both laughing and cat-like, her smile cruel. And there I stood, in front of the sofa.

In my tan skirt that went to my knees, white blouse with long sleeves and high collar, white hair band in my brown hair. I was told by Sir in an email to wear hose and white panties today to work with heels.

The had bound me with rope tonight. Tightly. As they bound me, they whispered into my ears, one at a time. Telling me I was a slut. A whore. Desperate for Sir's cock or Mistress' strap on to fuck my nasty holes. That I would get on my knees and beg for it. That I was trash. I wasn't even a person, just fuck meat. And that's what I wanted to be: a dirty, nasty, slutty, whorish little girl.

By the time they finished binding me, I was on on the sofa. Arms bound together behind my back at the elbows and wrists. Ropes going above and below my breasts. The knots *so* tight they made my chest thrust out some.

Mistress lifted my chin, “For that slutty, whore mouth of yours....”

She jammed a ball gag into my little mouth. She jerked the gag straps so tight they cut into my cheeks. I moaned a little and was rewarded with a light slap to the face and a harsh “shut up, bitch”.

Then Sir shoved my skirt up. He roughly folded my leg, ankle under my thigh and bound them together. I could feel my heels start to dig underneath me when he was done. And the last thing he did was to put a very tight and very knotted crotch rope on me.

The crotch rope was taut over my hose and panties. It rubbed against me. It was *too* tight. It chafed.

Then they had stepped away from. The stood behind the camera, the little red light went on, saying that we now streaming. Sir adjusted the camera as I half-sat and half-lain down on the sofa. Then they folded their arms and smirked at me.

As I looked at the camera, I was unsure. I was given no direction. I was simply bound, gagged and verbally degraded. But no directions, no orders. They were just *smirking*.

I moved slightly on the sofa and felt a tendril of pleasure as I moved against the knotted crotch rope. I whimpered a little. Then I looked at the camera. How many of you saw that? Did my face say that I liked it? Did you hear me whimper?

My face grew red. Embarrassed. Yes, of course, all of you saw me. You saw me be a little bit slutty. Just as Mistress and Sir said. But I'm not...I play the part, but I'm not! I'm a good girl! The way I dress is respecta-

I moved and moaned again. The rope sliding over my hose and panties, digging in. And that's when I knew. Oh no...I *knew*...

I turned my head, ashamed and closed my eyes. I wasn't just red in my face. My face was *burning*. I felt a tear go down my cheek and I knew why, because they were right, *goddamn* them....

In the end, they were right. I couldn't help it. My hips slowly undulated. They grind in slow circles. My legs couldn't close, You all could see everything. Moving against the ropes. Tan hose and white panties pushing and grinding against the red rope.

Moaning louder and louder. Face getting redder and redder and I am *SO* ashamed. Still not looking at the camera, not able to see the rd light telling me you are all watching me...

I'm not a good girl. I'm not respectable. Sir and Mistress were right.

As I sit here, in proper clothes, yet still looking like a bondage whore, hips moving and grinding my way to a desperate orgasm, chest thrust out like a tease...even though I am fully clothed...I'm a slut.

As my eyes slowly open, as my move more quickly, as I moan and moan and moan and whimper and beg into my gag, I look into the camera and I know...I *know*...

I'm a dirty, nasty, slutty, whore. And I am embarrassed and ashamed that I need this so badly, That I want Sir and Mistress to fuck my nasty holes and make me scream. That you can see my desperate desires to give up and fuck and to be hate-fucked.

Wanting Sir and Mistress to rip my clothes off, rip the crotch rope off and fuck me. Fuck me with cock and strap-ons. In my small ass and dirty cunt. Knowing that all you men and women want to do the same to me, fuck me like a slut, slap me, choke me while you fuck me as you watch me.

Little pathetic me, bound and gagged, fully clothed, writhing like a needy whore on the sofa, the crotch rope giving me so much pleasure but not an orgasm...

Until I scream at Sir and Mistress, drool cascading down my chin, begging them to fuck me, please please please just *FUCK ME!!!!*

And then they chuckle and simply walk out of the room. Leaving me to buck my hips wildly against the crotch rope, moaning and sobbing as you watch me try to cum.....

  

The Start to a TPE Weekend (story)

I whimpered as the last strap was pulled tightly over my ankles. I was sitting in the back of the van, on a blanket, while two men in latex hoods were checking the rest of the straps.

My kidnapping was pretty simple. I was taking a shortcut in an alley, taking no notice of the one car that went by me, so why would I have noticed the van? It slowed down next to me, and just as I turned my head, the side door opened and arms reached out, grabbed me and pulled me in. I was so shocked and surprised that half the straps were on me before I even thought about fighting back.

Shortly thereafter, we parked and got another passenger. A woman wearing a leather jacket zipped up, jeans and combat boots came on. She sat down in front of me and smiled at me with perfect teeth. Her hair was black and bobbed. I couldn't stop staring at her eyes; ice blue.

She did an inspection of my bonds. A strap on my ankles, over and under my knees, over and under my chest (pinning my arms behind me) and straps wrapped around my wrists. She tugged on them.

She patted my thigh, “Sorry for the tightness, but I don't want you getting away.”

She smiled as she ran a hand up my thigh, a finger flicking at the button of my jeans. I drew up my legs, shaking my head whispering, “No, not that, please..”

My captor leaned into my face, “You don't get to say 'no'. Not anymore.”

She quickly undid the button, pressed down on my knees to straighten my legs, and pulled down the zipper. I barely tried to fight her; I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

She yanked down my pants to my thighs and laughed, “Hello Kitty panties!?!””

My face burned red.

She say back down and was still smiling, “Fine, I won't rip them off...they look cute on you. I'll save them for later.”

She twirled a finger on my boots. Cream colored and went up my thigh. She leaned forward and unbuttoned my flannel shirt halfway down. She gently pulled on the shirt so they were exposing my breasts, but still held under the straps.

Her face close to mine, she hissed, “You know I own you now...right?”

I shook my head and looked away and gasped when she grabbed my chin roughly and made me face her, “Oh...you will *learn*...yes, yes you will...”

She let me go and sat back. She stared at me, the smile was gone. All I could see was cruelty and desire. My heart started to pound, because there was nothing I could do....

She looked to her two men, nodded at one, “He seems to like you. Turn your head. Now.”

I turned and looked. His pants was barely constraining his hard on. I gulped. It looked, even from inside his pants, huge. I looked back at her as she spoke.

“They're mine. They'll do whatever I say or want. You obey me, you please me...he won't have you. Unless, of course, you want him to have you...”

I licked my lips, “Please, if you-”

“Shut up. Now.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes and then nodded to him again, “Gag her.”

A wide, white cloth was pulled into my mouth. He pulled it as far back as he could. I couldn't even close my mouth. Then when he knotted it, the pull in the corners of my mouth was almost unbearable. He then pulled out an Ace bandage and started to gag me again.

With each wrap around my head, the bandage and the gag got tighter and tighter. It pulled back into my little mouth cruelly. I tried to close my mouth, but the pressure in the back was such that there was no way that was going to happen.

I whimpered when he brought out the duct tape. I heard the ripping sound and I moaned. He simply wrapped over the two other gags. The gag was beginning to hurt a little. When he finally stopped, I could feel the pressure on my face...even on my eyes.

She looked at me, pointed at my face with one hand and tossed a roll of black electricians' tape with the other to her man, “Clean it up.”

I begged and shook my head. I begged and begged and begged, even with my eyes I begged. But all that would come out of my mouth was “ah..ahhhh...ahh...ahhh...”

She gave me a wicked grin, “Sorry, I can't understand you...”

The thin, black tape wound around my head. Into my gagged mouth, over my cheeks, back behind my head...over and over. Finally, he was done. And I found myself moaning uncontrollably.

She scooted next to me and put an around me, “There, there....the gag will only be on there for the ride back to my place, about forty-five minutes. Oh, look at that...you're already drooling...”

She was right. I could feel the thin line of warm drool drop from my upper lip. It was followed by a somewhat thicker strand from my lower lip and over my chin.

She slowly laid me me back as the van started moving. She had my head cradled on one arm. She ran her other hand from my neck, slowly over the swell of one breast, and over my stomach. I looked at her wide-eyed, knowing....

She whispered, “Just obey me, do what I say...and I will make you feel SO good...”

Her hand went underneath the band of my panties. Fingertips floating where I shaved that day, seeing her smile as she realized that, finally, a finger tip caressing a lip...and she looked surprised and her features softened.

Looking down at me, a beautiful smile, “Oh baby...you're so wet...”

Her finger slipped into me and I moaned. She moved it slowly inside of me, thrusting and circular movements. Soon, I was squeezing her hand between my thighs, writhing a little, my eyes going unfocused, repeating the only sound I could make, “ah...ah...ah...”

She nuzzled my neck and kissed my cheek, “We're going to have SO much FUN...”

Wanting You to See Me Bound and Gagged (6/9/16 at 3:47am)

It's chilly out on the balcony.

I'm wearing a red blouse, completely open, black lace bra and panties and short, black heels.

On my neck is a leather collar with a single, silver ring. I have my black, padded bit gag in my mouth, pulled as far back as possible. Soon, there will be heavy handcuffs on my wrists, behind my back. The keys are right next to this laptop, sitting on the table just inside of the door.

Once my hands are secured behind me, I will walk on to my tiny balcony, high up in the sky. There's a little bit of wind...I wonder if my blouse will blow off of my shoulders....

Will anyone see me? Will anyone see me slowly turn...see me in handcuffs...see my gagged face...see me look around and beg for someone to come and find me...

Will they be taking my picture? Will they keep me in their memories? Will I be their fantasy victim? Submissive slut? Will they dream of pulling my hair? Caressing my breasts? Forcing me on my knees?

Will you see me? Will you come to my door? Will you find me on my balcony? Will you hook your finger into the ring of my collar or pick me up and gently carry me to my bedroom?

My door is open and I am on the balcony, waiting for you, any of you, to come and save me...

Suzy

Sometimes Gags Are Meant to be Cruel

We all know I love gags and how they put me into subspace and make me feel sexy...but sometimes, gags are meant to be horrible and cruel and degrading...

This gag represents a fantasy of mine...the feel of the straps tight on my head, the panel forced over my mouth, jammed and pressing into my lips...and the fear as you keep pumping the gag, the rubber expanding in my tiny mouth, but the harness forces the rubber in one direction; my throat...will you hear my pleas to stop before you make me choke?

This is designed for pain. It is a punishment. The heavy metal pulling the tongue out and pinching down; not being able to form words and eventually breaking down the sub with pain an numbness.  I've done this with chopsticks...I wasn't quiet, but could only make long moaning sounds...and the gag did it's job: it broke me and sent me into subspace...

Another gag not designed to make one quiet. This is more along the lines of degradation. The ring forces the mouth open, unable to close, telling the wearer that she is not a person, but a toy. To further the notion, the tongue is on display, as an invitation for use...further convincing the sub that she is a play toy and nothing more and there is nothing she can do about it.  When I used to model gear this was one of my favorites as people really wanted to play with my tongue.

The brutal, kidnapper gag.  Certainly made to keep your victim quiet.  But many submissives like me enjoy these gags.  Largely, because we can scream and be as loud and lose as much control as we want without too much noise.  But they are punishing gags, usually a packed mouth, tape over hair...very exhausting.  In a perfect world, I would be a gag model for Eric Cain...

I love the look of gags that contort the mouth into unnatural and harsh positions.  You really need endurance for these gags.  Again, they really aren't made to make you quiet, but rather to induce you to moan and whimper helplessly, making you beg for release in the end...I've been know to cry after awhile when gagged like this...

Nothing puts a submissive in her place like a humiliating gag. It is made to silence her, but also to let her know her place, not just as a toy, but as a thing and a way to break down the will. Bad enough to be at the mercy of another, but having panties shoved over her head tells her who the boss is and it isn't her.  I usually don't get these gags as I get into place fairly quickly...unless I'm being kidnapped...

So, not all gags are sexy and attractive.  Not all gags are meant to be attractive.  Some gags are meant to be cruel and to shove the submissive into the right spot or to punish...and honestly, I don't about others...but the I love the grunting, whining, whimpering and moaning that these hard and cruel gags make me do...as well as that one thing that all gags do that simply let's everyone know how helpless and useless you are...drooling uncontrollably...

Here's a little movie clips of gags I would love to do and do again!!

Wrote this with my tube gag in, straps are digging into my cheeks, tiny, pink tongue sticking out and drooling all over myself...I'm such a gag whore....

Mmmmpphhh!

At the moment on 10/26/15, 5:31am

On the bed, knee-high, white socks, light blue panties, a tee with a picture of Faye Valentine on it (look her up, from Cowboy BeBop)...my ankles are soft-cuffed, as well as my thighs. After uploading this, my hands will be cuffed behind me. Small, red, ballgag in my tiny mouth, trying so hard not to drool...I know I will soaked in it soon...oh, and did I mention that a hitachi vibe is strapped to one leg and pressed right up against me....and when the time comes, set on high and left there until I can't cum anymore...

To help me with cumming while bound and gagged, I have a nice, older movie from ZFX/Shockwave to watch...

Wishing I was her...being bound by wires with minds of their won, struggling, begging, calling out for help through a gagged mouth....only to be violated...moaning and writhing and forced to cum and cum and cum...mmmmmmmmm.....

So, in just a little while, my first orgasm might look like this...

It's 5:51am and I just turned the vibe on and it feels soooooo good. In just a moment, the movie will be playing, my hands will be cuffed behind me and I will be writhing and moaning and whimpering, hips jerking as I cum over and over....

You know...the door IS unlocked...perhaps one of you, a beautiful boy or a gorgeous girl might find me, walk through the door and perhaps...help me in cumming?

See you all later....mmmmppphhh....

She's Making Me Earn It (story)

She stood in front of me, beautiful and severe. Dark business suit, no blouse under the jacket, but lovely breasts held in black lace. Her blonde hair up in a bun, blue, feline eyes looking me over as I stood there silently. Red lips in a small and cruel smile.

I was so nervous standing there. This was our first time meeting face to face. After weeks of online chatting that turned into webcam sessions, we finally decided to meet at a hotel, neutral ground. But it felt like she owned the space all along.

She sent me an email last night. She told me how to dress for the day. What to do before coming here, to the Hotel Brexton. I dressed exactly as she told me to.

White blouse, long sleeved and high-necked, buttoned all the way. Black, knee-length skirt, but no hose underneath, just white-lace panties. Black heels, no stilettos but high enough. My hair was to be slicked back, turning it from a dark brown to almost black.

She gave me just one task that I had to do today. I had to repeat it as often as I could. I was to reach down, lift my skirt and rub my lips, my clit, thought my panties with one hand and with the other, fondle my breasts through my blouse. I was not to actually touch those parts of my body, just to stimulate them...and I was not allowed to cum.

All day, I rubbed at myself, fingers stroking. Going in small circles. Pushing down on the lace. My other small hand moving up to my breast, cupping it, slowly squeezing, softly then harder and harder until I almost gasped. My body undulating, hips moving, head falling back, my little lips parting so my pint tongue would flick in and out as I very quietly whimpered at my desk.

I was so excited...doing at my desk. Feeling so naughty, so bad, almost cumming at the thought of being caught. Before I would get too carried away, I quickly went to the bathroom, find an empty stall and work myself over. Pretending that she was touching me, caressing me, making me whimper and moan, eyes closed...I came close to cumming so many times. All I did was make my panties soaked.

As I finally came to the hotel room, she ordered me not to talk. I was to stand in the middle of the room, hands behind me, wrists crossed. Silently, I watched her open her suitcase at the bed.

She brought out a pair of handcuffs. There was no chain between cuffs, just interlocking metal. She held them up for me to see before dropping them to the bed. Next, came a white, silk scarf. She gave me a delicious and evil smile as she placed it over my shoulder.

She walked behind me and whispered into my ear, “I'm placing the handcuffs on, I want you helpless, I don't want you to be able to stop me, understand? This is the only time you will be able to tell me to stop...do you want me to stop?”

I licked my lips, shook my head no.

“Good girl.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to be afraid. She came behind me again, and she gently took my wrists and I felt the heavy metal circle each wrist, getting tighter until I heard that final click. My arms felt pulled back, my wrists almost together, my hands balled into tiny fists and pulled slightly at the cuffs.

She chuckled from behind, “Oh, you won't be getting out of those any time soon...”

She walked around to face me, looking down at me. Hands on her hips, eyebrow cocked, she briefly looked away and then quickly dropped down. In one quick motion, she raised my skirt up my thighs. My mouth opened to protest but no sound came out she gave me a stern look.

“I said no talking. If you speak, I will slap your cheek, is that what you want?”

I bit my lip as I looked down at her.

“Well?”

It would have felt so good because it was so bad to want to be slapped. But I wanted that, sharp, stinging pain from her hand. But...I shook my head no.

She smiled at me and watched my face as her hands ran up my bare legs. Smooth and strong. Going up so slowly, knowing where she was headed. Hoping she would slip under my panties, rub me, I was so wet her finger would have glided in.

Her hands did slip under my panties and I let out a long sigh. I was rewarded with a nod and a smug look; she knew what she was doing to me.

Her hands pulled at my lace panties and pulled them down, so slowly. It felt so good for them to come off, they felt constrictive on me. So many times today I wanted them off so I could just cum and cum and cum....

She ordered me to step out of them. Once done, she stood up, running the panties between thumb and fore finger. She brought it up to her nose, and once I realized that she was going to sniff it, my face suddenly went red.

“Oh, they are so wet, you naughty, naughty, slutty cunt!!!”

She sniffed and I looked away in shame.

“Did you cum in these wet panties, slut?”

I shook my head.

“Are you sure? Are sure you weren't a desperate horny slut that you once you got yourself wet, you didn't enjoy yourself and cum?”

I shook my head.

She smiled, satisfied, “That's a good girl.”

For some reason, I was happy that she was pleased.

She took a step closer, almost body to body, “We aren't going to meet again for two weeks. But you have a daily task, for each day of those two weeks. First, you are going to wear these panties every day...I don't care how you dress, but you have to wear these panties, and you aren't allowed to wash them, understand?”

I nodded, “ Good girl, now open your mouth. Wide as you can.”

I opened my small mouth.

She twirled my panties on her finger, “Good girl. Now, you touch yourself like you did today. Whenever and as often as you can. I want these panties dripping, got it?”

I nodded, mouth still wide open.

She smiled and grabbed my chin, moving quickly. She jammed the panties into my mouth. My eyes grew wider and I started to pull away, but she held me by my chin.

She pushed the panties as far as she could. They filled my tiny mouth, making cheeks bulge a little. To make sure, she kept pushing the wad in with one finger. I gagged a little when the panties hit the back of my throat, making her stop.

She whipped the scarf off my shoulder. She quickly wrapped it around my head, the cool silk over my mouth and cheeks. I felt it slip tighter as she knotted the scarf, finished the gag, keeping my panties in my mouth.

I could taste myself. The entire day of playing with myself. My face grew red with shame. I should not be liking this, enjoying it, but I was and I looked down and away from her, knowing I wasn't worthy of her...

She grabbed me and pulled me to her. Her breasts pushing against me, her taut body holding me. I could smell her jasmine perfume and I was starting to slip into that special place, where I was helpless, not in control, everything feeling soft, and I wasn't caring about anything but giving up everything.

She pulled my head back by my hair and the pain was sharp and addictive; I whimpered, looking up wanting to say yes, yes, please god, yes....

She kissed my gagged my mouth. I could feel the pressure of her lips on the silk gag. One arm around my waist, holding me to her lovely body. Her other hand holding my head. My eyes rolled back into my head as my eyelids closed.

I leaned into her. I let her hold me. I let my legs go weak, She kept kissing me as she let my body glide slowly to the floor. I moaned loudly.

As I settled on my knees, she held my head in her hands, she looked down, her lips slightly smudged, smiling.

“Ooohh, baby, I know...I know...your body feels so needy, your clothes are too tight on your body...you want and you need to give it up so badly, don't you?”

I nodded, trying very hard not to cry from the need. She was right; I needed it, craved it, my whole body pulsing, my breasts and lips pounding from desperation. I moaned a “please” through the gag.

She waggled a finger at me, “I told yo not to talk, but I'll let it slide this time.”

I shook my head, I wanted her to slap me. The tears started to come back in frustration.

“I know, I know...but you have to earn everything you want me to do to you first. Understand?”

I nodded and sighed.

“Good, now once you get your nice, lace panties soaked with your juices, you shove them in your mouth before you go to bed, and you gag yourself with this very scarf. You will take a picture and send it to my cell every night. As proof. Got it?”

I nodded a final time.

She let me sit back on my knees as she undid the cuffs. But she didn't take the gag off. Instead, she cupped my breasts and as he did so, she leaned into my back and I could feel her voluptuous breasts pressing against me. She gave my breasts a soft squeeze and kissed the back of my neck, making me tremble with the thought of those very lips on me, my nipples, working down, kissing and licking...

I watched her close her suitcase. She made her way to the door and then turned around. Another evil smile, “Remember everything I just told you. And in two weeks, we will meet here again. And I better find you here with your panties in your mouth and that scarf gagging you...perhaps...perhaps...I might let you masturbate and cum before me. I might even kiss you when you orgasm...”

She blew me a kiss and walked out, closing the door behind her.

I dropped forward, hands on the floor, on my knees. My gagged face with wide eyes looking at the door. And after a minute, when I realized that she wasn't coming back. That she wasn't going to let me cum for two weeks, that she wasn't going kiss me while I came...I screamed through the gag at the closed door, at her to come back.

I wanted her to come back. To fuck me. Shove her fingers into my pussy, my so, so SO wet pussy, bend me over, keep me bound and helpless and fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me and let me her kiss her beautiful face when the fucking was done....

I dropped to the floor and wept...keeping my gag in the whole time...

*************************************************

Been a little while since I posted a story, hope you liked it.  Anyway, the Hotel Brexton is a real hotel in Baltimore, near the neighborhood I live in.  Check it out!

http://www.hotelbrexton.com/

And yes, I wore a ball gag when I wrote this.  And I've been drooling.  And my tee is a wet mess...well, guess it's time to go to bed, slap on some cuffs and leave the door unlocked!!

Mmmmpphhh!

Place Setting (story)

You can be so mean, so cruel. You make me watch you eat the dinner I made for you. But I can't eat. I can't drink. I'm only allowed to watch....

I made you the dinner you like. I had to start last night. I made the honey mustard marinade from scratch: pepper, vinegar, honey and Dijon mustard over a low flame. I let it cool and threw in the thin slices of pork and let it sit overnight. After cooking the pork up, with green beans and sliced, rosemary red potatoes, I placed it on the table. I poured you a glass of Boom Boom Syrah.

I quickly changed into the clothes you wanted me to wear and stood by the table, hands behind me, wrists crossed, head bowed. You have me wearing a long sleeved, high-necked, white blouse. A very short black skirt. Black hose and black lace panties underneath, and black heels with ankle straps.

When you came in just as I was bowing my head, I waited for you to be ready for dinner. When you came out of the bedroom, you had changed, but you also brought out some of my gear. I was a little confused...

You patted the table. I climbed onto it and knelt. You stood behind me and used heavy, leather cuffs on my ankles, pulled my wrists behind me an did the same. You locked me up with little padlocks. You helped me to lay down on my stomach and lifted my chin up with one finger.

I knew what was coming next and obediently opened my mouth. You placed my soft bit gag in, slowly pushing into the corners of my mouth, past my teeth. You pulled the straps tight and buckled the gag. I let my eyes close and a small moan escaped me.

You pulled on the chain of my hand cuffs. At the same time you pressed down on my legs. My arms were strained a little and my back bowed somewhat, my head lifted higher off the table. Then I heard the loud click of the final padlock. You had me in a simple and vicious hogtie.

You came back around and sat down to your dinner. You took a a sip of wine and watched me for a few minutes. I made some small noises, little moans of discomfort. I begged you a little with my eyes and made the right noises to go along with the begging.

You left the table. I gave it a minute before I started mmmphing your name softly. Asking you from around the bit gag to come back. Soon, I was just saying a gagged “please” over and over. I rewarded you with a happy sigh when you came back.

You placed a small dish under my chin. I sighed in a dismayed fashion; you were going to keep like this for some time.

I watched you eat slowly. Smiling. Savoring each bite that I was not allowed to have. Sighing after each sip of red wine that I was not allowed taste. I wanted it to. And my arms began to ache.

You held the glass under my nose, letting me smell the deliciousness. You took it away and I moaned loudly. And the first line of drool came from over my lower lip, sliding down my chin and dripping onto the plate below.

You took another bite.

You are so mean, so cruel. You can be so bad. You make me suffer the way I like to. I love the way you make me hurt so I get that tight feeling down there, making me wet. You smile as more drool cascades down. You re-fill your glass. You make me hate you in a loving way.

After dinner, I hope you let me show you how much I desperately hate you...

The wine in the story:

http://www.charlessmithwines.com/charles-smith-wines/wines/past/boom-boom-syrah

It's almost 6am, so I will be going to sleep. Dreaming, of leather, lavender, soft lips on me, and murmured desires.

Gagged kisses for those of you sleeping, going to sleep and just now waking up...

….mmmmmpphhh......

The Drool Apology (story)

The room, as always, is almost bare. You have only the one light on; a single light bulb hanging down from the ceiling. It creates a very small circle of dim light, and in it is a large, dark pillow. You have me kneeling on it.

The rest of the room is dark. I can see, but only to a point where it goes to black. The hardwood floor would be cold if it wasn't for the pillow. I can't see the walls now, but during the day I can see how you have them painted a very cold gray color. But tonight, I can only see a little bit of Baltimore's light coming through the windows to my left. It doesn't show much. I hear more than see the rain hitting the windows.

Just outside of the circle of light, I can see the camera. The tripod is at its lowest setting, pointing up at me, at my face. The red light is on. It's been on for thirty minutes now, I think. My arms are very tired.

I put on the outfit you laid out for me. The box the outfit came in was sitting on the sofa when I let myself in. I read your little note and put on the garments: black lace bra and panties, black stockings, black heels, a very dark lavender slip.

I had turned on the camera and finished the rest of your instructions. I leaned down and put on the heavy leather ankle cuffs, a small chain connecting them. I had opened my tiny mouth as much as I could. You wanted me to wear the large, black ball gag tonight.

The ball stretched my mouth as I pulled the straps back, the ball pushing past my teeth, I buckled the straps in back, tightly, the same with the chin straps...the ball firmly in my mouth, stretching my lips...uncomfortable and the message was clear; I am to suffer.

The wrist cuffs were dangling in front of me, hanging by a chain coming down from an eyehook. Tiny padlocks on each cuff but no keys. You are controlling me tonight. I snap the padlocks into place, locking myself in.

I drop down slowly, knowing the camera will eventually see my gagged face. As I lower down to the pillow, bending my knees, my hands seem to be pulled up. By the time I am kneeling, my wrists are high above me, my arms stretched as far as they can go. I let my head hang forward as I look into the lens of the camera.

That was thirty minutes ago, give or take.

My arms are straining. I try not to move, it seems that when I do I either put more weight on my arms or strain them even more. They're tired now. I'm hoping you come back soon and give me some relief.

My mouth is also sore. My jaw is feels like my arms, all strained and sore. The ball fills my mouth, pressing down on my tiny, pink tongue and pushing against the roof my mouth. I whimper a little.

The door opens and while light pours in, I can only see your shadow, I hear you walk closer. You stop just behind the camera. I hear something swish in the air. Then you step forward and to my right, I look up at you with pleading eyes; I'mso sore.

"You haven't drooled yet."

I shake my head and give you a "I'm sorry" look.

"You know that's a live feed, right? They want you to drool."

I look back down at the camera, pleading with my eyes, apologizing with them, wondering who is watching and if they even care about my silent apologies.

"Such a bad girl."

I feel the crop you've been holding under my chin. The leather whispers under my chin and up one cheek.

"Tell them you're sorry."

Looking into the camera, the crop slowly sliding away, "Ahhmssmmrrry..."

As soon as I give my gagged apology to the watchers, I feel it. It's warm and and it trickles from the top of the ball. In a small, quicksilver movement it tickles my lower lip and then slips right over my chin. A nice, long, un-breaking silver line of drool dropping to the floor with a plop.

You've moved behind me. You use the crop to lift the slip up and off my bottom
and caress each cheek in small circles with the crop. I close my eyes and make a small noise...more drool.

"I'm going to hurt you now. And each time I hit you, you will apologize to all the people watching you. Starting...now."

The sharp sting makes me squeal and then moan, throwing my head up a little, closing my eyes. When I open them, breathing a little heavier, ""Ahhmssmmrrry..."

More drool.

SMACK!

"Ahhmssmmrrry..."

More drool.

SMACK!

"Ahhmssmmrrry..."

You aren't stopping. My bottom is stinging. I'm screaming my gagged apologies. I haven't cried yet, but I will. And the drool...

It just cascades down over my chin. From the top of the ball or from under it, the drool just keeps coming as I moan, as I breathe, as I scream into the gag. My chin and lips are slick and drowning in my drool.

I'm getting messy. The pain sears, the drool flows, my eyes are half-lidded as I scream myself into subspace. Not caring, wanting to be messy for everyone, to be dirty, to be nasty, to be punished, body jerking with each strike, screaming, pushing the drool out of my mouth, knowing that there are people who are watching me, watching me degrade, enjoying my humiliation, forcing me to be bad, watching me get more messier, making me their fantasy...their helpless, submissive, pain-induced fantasy-victim...knowing they will be reaching a climax while watching me and I. Just. Can't. Stop. Drooling.

You strike me again and my scream falls into a moan. Chest heaving, drool all over me, the red light of the camera, another thick line of drool falling and hitting my knees...

Please, baby, oh please, please, pleasepleasepleasePLEASE...make me cum, baby...please....

And then you lean into my ear, I can almost feel the evil grin on your face, "I'm going to leave you now. I want you to apologize. I want you to beg them. I'll be back in thirty minutes."

I look back to the camera and beg. I apologize. I ache. My mouth aches, my arms aches. My stomach is tight, my panties feel uncomfortable and wet. I beg. And when I hear the lock on the door click, that's when the first tear slides down my face as I whimper out another "sorry"....oh, god, I need it from you so badly baby, come back, oh please come back...

"Ahhmssmmrrry..."

And the drool doesn't stop....

A Side Business (story)

I just stood in your bedroom, head bowed, my hands behind me, crossed a the wrists. I waited for you to set up the camera, shivered a little at the draft. It's cold in here when winter comes.

I heard you snap your fingers and I slowly looked up. First, I saw you sitting in the plush chair behind the camera, chin in hand, looking bored. As I raised my chin, I noticed that the little red light on top of the camera was on; you were already recording, a feed to your laptop, also recording.

You sighed and made a motion with your chin. When we do this type of video, you don't like to be in it. You only want me to be shown. I am to be the subject, the only thing of importance for these types of videos. When you nodded with your chin, that was my cue.

I looked into the camera and said nothing. the only sound was the heat coming through the vents, almost a soft purring sound. After a moment, I started to slowly turn around, hands still behind my back, wrists crossed.

As I turned, I gave a full view of what I was wearing. A long-sleeved, white satin blouse, buttoned all the way up, a black cameo on my neck. My skirt was simply black and came just above my knees. My legs themselves were bare, but I was wearing black heels.

After I came full circle, I stopped and gazed into the camera again. My hair was slicked back, normally brown, but when like this, almost black. I was wearing make up, which made my lips redder and fuller, my brown eyes bigger. I brought my hands to my sides and waited for the next cue.

You snapped your fingers, the only sound you would permit from yourself to be on camera. While looking into the camera, I reached behind me and unzipped the skirt. I brought them back and up to my waist, slowly moving my hips while pushing down on the skirt until gravity took over and it slid down my legs to the floor. I stepped out of the skirt and took one step forward.

My hands floated up as I still stared into the lens. They started at my collar and slowly unbuttoned it. I licked my lips as I went to the next one. I found myself swaying a little, as if to music while my hands worked their way down the blouse. I took my time.

I hesitated as the blouse fluttered. I looked down, embarrassed. When I looked back up, at you sitting behind the camera, I shrugged my shoulders and the satin blouse slipped of my shoulders, made a rustling sound as it slipped down my arms and onto the floor.

I was wearing my white lace today. White, lace panties. But I know you weren't looking at my lace, but at the red rope wrapped over my torso. A simple karada tie over my body.

The rope cut into my skin. Whenever I moved, it moved. It restricted my chest. It dug up into my crotch, a small, uncomfortable knot pressing against the lace, pressing into me. Sitting, standing, walking, always there, never letting me forget..making me sigh, tiring me, making me desire...you made me wear it all day...

My hands went to my back. I closed my eyes to concentrate. You made the release knot a little bit higher than normal. I had to lean forward as my hands went up, fingertips finally clasping on the right end.

I pulled the rope with a single, strong tug. I could feel the knot simply melt away and for just a moment, the rope was still tight on me. Suddenly there was release, the tightness gone in a moment. the ropes almost springing from my body, they just fell off of me. My eyes still closed, my hand shot up and covered my mouth as I let out a small sound, as my other hand went to my stomach.

Oh, this feels SO delicious....

I composed myself and worked the rope off of me. I still had to pull a little on the crotch rope and I let out a very small whimper as the knot popped out. I hadn't realized how far it worked itself in.

Almost naked, I stood for a moment, savoring the new freedom from the soft, red, rope I had worn all day. I gave the camera a little smile. A knowing look.

My fingers slid down my sides, into my panties. My fingers hooked into the lace, I pushed the panties down my legs very, very, slowly. Once I was to my ankles, I stood back up and with one motion, kicked the panties a little bit forward..

I sunk to my knees. Eyes never leaving the camera. I placed my hands behind me again. Wrists crossed, just like before. I bent forward, eyes looking up, knowing that you are watching me, knowing that whoever will be watching this will be watching me.

I used my small, pink tongue to flick at my panties on the floor. Languidly, sighs coming out of me. Until finally my teeth could find purchase. I sat back up. Rested on my heels, completely naked, except for my black stilettos. My face serene and compliant, eyes in that soft un-focus of subspace. The white, lace panties that I had worn all day, hanging from my mouth...

You went to the laptop and typed something in and then pulled out a memory stick. Another tap and the red light on the camera went out. You placed the stick into a large envelope while you walked to me.

You knelt in front of me and held out your hand. I leaned forward and dropped the panties into your hand. You held it for a moment, held it to your nose and lips. You finally smiled as you placed it into the envelope with the memory stick. You placed it on the floor between us. The address was a town somewhere in California. A movie and my panties for a nice sum of money. Our nice, little side business...

You reach out and caress my face. I press my cheek into your palm, closing my eyes for a moment. As I open them, I turn my face a little and place a small kiss into your hand. Your thumb glides over my cheek, a hungry look starts to come over you.

I like that look. It means that I've done well and that I should be rewarded. We both know how this goes. I lick my lips and tell you what I want. What you want to hear.

I whisper, "Make me do it...oh, please...please...make me scream..."