Dawn Makes Her Decision
By: sfmaster - Published: 4th September, 2017
WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age of 18 or reside in a state, nation, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
“Dawn Makes Her Decision”
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“Dawn Makes Her Decision”
* * *
If a picture can be worth a thousand words, I suppose one of me now would probably be worth two thousand.
I’m looking at myself in the mirror, and still cannot believe that I’m really here; and in this position, either. How did a nice career girl like myself get into Dominance and submission? Worse, I’m actually enjoying it.
Right now I’m totally naked, wearing nothing but a pair of red four inch high heels locked upon my feet. My neck is circled by a “D” ring collar; with matching bracelets for my wrists and ankles. Both my wrists and ankles are locked to spreader bars, and my arms are pulled high above my head; leaving my exposed, naked body taut. My breasts protrude outrageously, and my sex is wide open for punishment. My feet can just touch the floor. Lastly, a red rubber ball-gag is buckled between my lips.
“Mmmmmmmph!” is all the speech that I can manage.
I have been placed in this position by my boyfriend and Master, Troy Campbell. I’ve now known him for all of a year and half, after being introduced on a blind date by my girlfriend Emily Stoddard. So I really should be blaming my friend Emily for bringing me into the “scene” and getting me into bondage.
I had no idea that Troy was a Master; Emily told me that he was a nice guy. Which he was, and proceeded to sweep me off my feet in the first few weeks of our relationship. Handsome, intelligent, polite, he was everything that a woman wants in a man. So when he asked one night if he could spank me, why refuse? Besides, I enjoyed it, and it made me hot.
So it didn’t take much after that to engage in more serious bondage scenes; and before I knew it, I was a collared submissive, complete with contract. There were other benefits as well: before I met Troy, I was a disorganized mess. Now he has made sure that my personal and professional life are in order; so that we can do our weekend scenes without any intrusions.
It’s now Saturday night, we’ve had dinner out together, and now I’m going to be whipped. That used to scare me, but I’ve learned that the whip, like any tool can be misused. Sure, I get striped, and it does hurt, and I do scream. But I never bleed, and my skin heals. I guess girls can get used to anything, right?
One room of the basement of Troy’s house has been made into a playroom to discipline his submissive girlfriends like me. Besides the ceiling chain that I’m hanging naked from it has a small jail cell; a cage; a leather clad bench; a set of stocks; and a rack containing whips; crops; and all sorts of other things designed to make naked girl very uncomfortable indeed!
In the mirror I see the door behind me open, and Troy walks in his playroom. He’s 32, thin and handsome with black hair and eyes, six feet tall; wearing a black t-shirt; jeans; and soft black boots.
I’m 28, 5’ 5”; with blonde hair and blue eyes; 130 lbs with nice boobs and a tight ass.
He walks confidently in front of my bound naked body, sizing me up for tonight’s punishment.
“Been waiting long, darling?” he asks.
“Mmmmmmph!” is all that I can reply.
“Now let’s restore your power of speech,” said Troy.
I lower my head towards him and he reaches behind to the back of my neck, and he releases the roller buckle holding the ball-gag in my mouth. He gently pulls the rubber ball from my mouth; and I take a deep breath through my mouth, filling my lungs with much needed air.
“Thank you, Master,” I tell him as Troy then proceeds to secure the gag around my neck so that it will be nearby, should he need it again to silence my power of speech!
“You’re quite welcome, Dawn. Did you enjoy your sojourn in my playroom?”
“Are you prepared to be whipped?” Troy asked me directly.
“Yes, Master,” I quickly reply.
“Do you enjoy the whip?”
“Only if you wield it, Master.”
“Then one day I shall have to loan you out to a Dominatrix friend of mine, Mistress Ann; who will show you how a woman uses the whip on her own sex,” Troy replied.
“Whatever you desire,” I answer.
Now if you had told me two years ago, that I’d be naked and in chains desiring a whipping from a boyfriend, I would have said that you were nuts. Instead, my nipples are hard and my pussy is wet with need.
“But that brings us back to you, Dawn. Do you want the whip tonight?” Troy calmly asks, like he was selecting a movie for us to watch, or selecting dinner.
“Yes, Master,” I quickly reply.
“Good, then kiss the whip.”
He removes the whip from his belt, where it had been coiled. I am offered the handle, and I quickly kiss the woven leather handle. Troy takes a few steps back and uncoils the whip, allowing the tip to fall to the floor.
“What is your safe-word?” Troy questions.
“Tension,” I reply.
“Count each stroke and thank me after every sixth one.”
“Yes, Master,” I answered.
I tense in my bonds, fearful of the whip. Even though Troy is highly skilled in it’s use; and has never hurt me; there is still an element of fear.
Swish, crack! “One!”
Swish, crack!” “Two!”
Swish, crack! “Three!”
Swish, crack!” Four!”
Swish, crack! “Five!”
Swish, crack! “Six, thank you, Master!” I cry out, seeing that my formerly pristine naked body in the mirror now has acquired a series of red stripes once again.
I strain futilely against my bonds, trying to escape the whip. But naked female flesh is no match for leather and steel; and I am still held captive!
“Afraid of the whip?” Troy asks.
“Yes, Master,” I answer, “any naked girl would be in my position.”
“Good, I don’t want you to become too comfortable with my discipline. Shall we continue?”
Swish, crack! “Seven!”
Swish, crack! “Eight”
Swish, crack! “Nine!” “Owwwww!” I cry when the whip stripes my bottom!
Swish, crack!” Ten!”
Swish, crack!” Eleven!”
Swish, crack! “Twelve! Thank you Master!”
My chest is heaving from the deep breaths I’m taking, and seeing myself in the mirror my naked body is now well striped from the whip. I also know that that my nipples are hard, and my pussy wet with anticipation. I want to be whipped and fucked, in that order!
Swish, crack! “Thirteen!” I cry out as the whip again strikes my naked female flesh!
Swish, crack! “Fourteen!”
Swish, crack! “Fifteen!”
Swish, crack! “Sixteen!”
Swish, crack! “Seventeen!”
Swish, crack! “Eighteen!”
I twist without effect in my bonds, as I try to avoid the whip. Troy circles around me, so that no place on my body is struck twice in a row. But still, the whip has striped my back, bottom, breasts and thighs. I shall have to be very careful what I wear to work in the next few days, lest my co-workers see my whip marks.
“Had enough?” Troy asks.
“No, Master,” I defiantly answer.
Nice girls aren’t supposed to be naked and whipped by their boyfriends! They’re supposed to be wined and dined, and treated like a princess. Instead, Troy has reduced me to being his submissive. I’m kept in bondage and punished constantly. I keep on trying to tell myself that I can leave at any time. But once he locks a collar around my neck and offers me the whip, I’m helpless to resist!
Troy then stands before me, and with his right hand reaches out and begins to fondle my right breast. I moan as he pinches my nipple, which has already been hit once with the whip.
“You’re a bondage slut,” Troy tells me.
“Yes, Master. I’m a bondage slut,” I dutifully answer.
Hanging from the ceiling my exposed naked body is held taut by my chains. My breasts protrude outwards, making them easily available for whatever my Master desires of my body.
His right hand then leaves my tormented breast, and his fingertips trace a path down my belly to my sex. With his forefinger he traces my exposed and vulnerable sex. Weeks earlier he had taken me to a waxing center, and had my public hair removed! Then he had paid them in advance to have my pussy and legs shaved each week before our time together, so that I would be bare for his attentions!
Troy then inserts his index and forefinger into my molten sex, making me moan and twist with anticipation. After the whip, all that I can think of is his cock between my legs; releasing my sexual tension.
“Ooooooooh!” I moan as his fingers are pushed into my aching pussy.
“Do you want sexual release?” Troy asks.
“Yes, Master, please fuck me,” I beg him shamelessly.
He thrusts his fingers into my wet sex, withdraws them, and then pushes inside me once more. I moan with need, but I know that I am about to be disappointed. For once I am on the very cusp of orgasm, when a single touch to my clitoris will bring me the release that I so desperately crave; Troy withdraws his fingers from my sex!
“Master, please!” I implore.
He takes his fingers and places them inside his mouth, tasting my female secretions. Troy sucks at my juices, cleaning them of my fluids that indicate my sexual readiness.
“What a wanton slut you are,” Troy taunts me.
“Yes, Master,” I reply.
This is all part of our elaborate ritual that we play out every weekend. He taunts me verbally; then disciplines me with the whip. Finally, though, I will have his cock in my bodily orifices.
I have learned that to be a submissive Troy now owns my naked body. While I will not be ringed or branded as in The Story of O I am nevertheless owned by him. Prior to becoming involved with Troy I had my own little secret stash of Erotica. I had read O in college when my roommate had loaned me her copy. Now, thanks to the internet, I could buy whatever I wanted online. So I had a few real books; and quite a few downloads. I had soft bondage stories; and then progressed onto stronger, darker tales.
But never in my wildest imagination would I ever believe that I would experience and come to enjoy being chained and whipped before I would be fucked! Or that I would come to admire the stripes that would now adorn my formally pristine naked body!
“Ready to proceed?” Troy asks, as if we were seated for dinner, instead of him about to whip me again.
“Yes, Master,” I quickly answer his question.
Swish, crack! “Nineteen!” I again cry out as the whip again slices my naked flesh.
Swish, crack! “Twenty!” Again my breasts are struck by the whip!
Swish, crack! “Twenty-one!” Troy has circled around to my rear, and my bottom is struck once again. Every time that I will sit down for the next few days, I know that I will remember this night!
Swish, crack! “Twenty-two!”
Swish, crack! “Twenty-three!”
Swish, crack! “Twenty-four!” I scream as my thighs bear a truly vicious stroke with the whip. I will only be wearing long skirts to work this week!
“Ready, slut?” Troy asks.
Swish, crack! “Twenty-five!” By now I am truly in distress, and I twist without effect in my chains. There is no way that I can avoid the whip. Sweat streams down my naked body, I can see it in my reflection in the mirror. My naked body has acquired a sheen of sweat.
Swish, crack! “Twenty-six!”
Swish, crack! “Twenty-seven!” I scream in pain when the whip lands between my opened and helpless thighs and the tip strikes my exposed pussy!
Swish, crack! “Twenty-eight!” Troy is truly relentless in tonight’s punishment! In the hands of a less capable Master, I would be in real trouble. But even though I am in pain, I know that Troy is not out to actually hurt me. He will not break the skin, and I will not bleed.
Swish, crack! “Twenty-nine!” I scream as my shoulder blades are the target of the whip once more. Tears are streaming down my cheeks from my eyes, is there no end to my agony?
Swish, crack! “Thirty!” I scream, shaking in my chains as the whip again strikes my pussy, my exposed and vulnerable sex is the target of the whip once more. I cannot believe that this is what I want from a man, instead of tenderness and love.
“Now we move on,” said Troy.
He removes a remote control from his belt and hits a button, and suddenly I am standing back on my feet once more. Troy then walks in front of me, and removes a key from his belt. The spreader bar holding me upright is unlocked, and I cannot stand up by myself. Troy catches me in his arms, and holds me tenderly.
“You did very well, Dawn,” Troy tells me.
“Thank you, Master.”
He carries me from the playroom to a bedroom, where he places me carefully on the bed. I wince as the whip marks touch the bed.
Troy then unlocks the two spreader bars from my wrists and ankles. I am free again! He next walks to a small refrigerator and removes a bottle of water. Troy opens it, and passes it to me.
“You may drink, but slowly. You have been harshly whipped, and have undergone a terrific shock,” he tells me.
I do as I am instructed, watching him coil the whip and place it on a nearby table. I slowly begin to feel normal again after the ordeal of being whipped.
On the night-table by the bed is a box of condoms. Now that I have been whipped, my bodily orifices are next to be used!
Troy quickly removes his boots, and strips off the black t-shirt; and jeans, socks, and briefs. He is naked with me on the bed, and he has a rampant erection! His cock is truly rigid, and he reaches for a condom, opens the foil packet, and unrolls the latex onto his shaft.
“Up on you hands and knees, Dawn,” he orders.
I quickly get doggy style on the bed, and he holds onto my hips, and next I feel his cock between my legs. Then he thrusts his shaft into my pussy, making me moan with pleasure. I have been harshly whipped, and this is finally my reward.
“Oooooooh!” I moan with pleasure, conscious of the fact that just a short time before, I was screaming in pain from the whip.
Troy partially withdraws his hard cock, only to bury it again to the hilt as he impales me again on his shaft. Then he begins a regular rhythm of withdrawing and pushing his rod into me again and again.
I moan with pleasure as he uses me as a vessel for his pleasure, my whipped, sweat stained body crying out for sexual relief after the ordeal that I have just endured. I am suddenly struck with a strange idea: that nice girls don’t get whipped. Previously, before Emily introduced me to Troy, I had never entertained the idea that girls should be whipped at all. Now, after almost a year, I take it for granted.
With his hands holding firmly onto my hips, I try and match him thrust for thrust as his shaft impales me from behind. I do this because he has trained me to do so, lest I get a spanking on my bottom if I fail to please him.
Before I met Troy, sex meant laying in bed, on my back, with my legs open. Now I am an active participant in sex; or else I get punished.
So I moan as his steel hard cock rams itself into my sex from behind, glad that tonight he is not using my bottom hole, which I admit that I am not fond of.
“Oooooooooh!” I cry as he rams his cock deep inside me.
“Oooooooooh!” Troy moans is response.
Suddenly I cry out as I feel his hot come spurt into the condom, his shaft buried deep inside my sex. Troy has climaxed, and I have come at the same time!
We moan together as I feel his cock pulsate inside the latex, as his cock spews his sperm with each climax!
Finally, his cock shrinks in size, and I know that he has shot his load for now!
“Ooooooooh!” I moan as he withdraws from my sex.
“You may sit up,” he tells me.
I get to my knees on the bed, facing him.
“Have I pleased you, Master?” I ask Troy.
“Yes you have, Dawn. Now I want you to clean my cock,” Troy orders.
Troy then lays back upon the bed, with his legs open, his limp come covered cock still within the condom. I take a paper tissue from the box on the night-table, and carefully remove the condom, taking care not to spill any of it’s contents on the bed. Next I dispose of the tissue and condom in the waste-basket nearby on the floor.
I get between his legs, and take his shaft in my mouth, tasting his salty come and the latex that has enclosed it until now. My nostrils fill with the scent of his sweat, come, and latex. I clean his formally erect shaft with my tongue, sucking him clean, as I have been taught for the previous year.
When Troy wanted me to take an AIDS test, I thought surely he must have been mad. Except that I am now used to him being between my legs giving me oral sex, which previously no man had ever done before.
Troy never actually asked me to suck his cock. It was just that after a few times he had gone down on me that I finally reciprocated, sucking on his cock, before and after sex. I had also learned to swallow his come without embarrassing myself too often.
He then complimented me by saying that I was a natural submissive. When a man takes the whip to my naked body, it’s pretty easy to anticipate what he’ll want next.
If there is one thing that I have learned since I began to wear a collar it’s that some things are best done slowly, like cleaning his cock after sex; and others done quickly, like kneeling or assuming a submissive pose. I leisurely took his shaft into my mouth, and sucked and cleaned his shaft of his come with my tongue. I have grown used to the taste of his spunk by now. A bit salty, but something I take for granted now.
The rubber ball-gag is still locked around my neck, should Troy decide to gag me once more. This is something else that I have gotten used to over the past year.
I suppose that a woman can get used to anything, if she has done it long enough.
“Oooooooh,” Troy moans as I service his shaft, and gradually it begins to harden once again.
“Thank you, Master,” I say with my mouth full of cock.
“Lay on your back,” Troy orders.
I lay on the other side of the bed, as Troy reaches for another condom, which he unrolls onto his already erect cock. He runs his hand down the impressive length of his organ, which I know will again be thrust into my wet, needy, cunt.
Troy then rolls onto my side of the bed, and kisses me on my lips, neck, and he begins to suck and playfully bite my nipples. He has asked me if I would consent to having them ringed, but as of yet I have not answered him.
I open my legs and he thrusts his erect cock inside me in one massive push. I moan as his hard rod enters me, and my body responds by mildly bouncing on the bed. I place my arms around his naked body as he begin to piston his cock inside me, again and again!
“Ooooooooh,” I moan each time he impales with with his raging hard cock.
This is what I have been waiting all week for, his shaft inside me, driving me to another series of orgasms. Sweat pours off his naked body onto mine as his sexual exertions make his heart pound.
I moan in unison with him, matching him thrust for thrust as he pounds me into the mattress. It had never occurred to me before I began seeing Troy to wear a pair of high heels to bed. Now I can’t think of having sex any other way, since they definitely enhance my sexuality.
“Oooooooh,” Troy moans.
“Oooooooh,” I moan with him, enjoying the sensations as his cock drives deeply inside me.
I feel him come again inside me as his shaft pulsates, and I once more experience his hot come jet into the condom, which is inside me. He moans with pleasure, and I moan with him. I come at the same time, and we moan together in unison.
Soon, his cock is no longer erect, and I feel him withdraw from my pussy.
“Thank you Master,” I say to Troy.
“You’re welcome, darling,” he tells me.
Troy slowly gets to his feet, and walks to the bathroom. Having sucked his shaft clean once already tonight, I know that I will not have to do it a second time.
I hear the sound of running water in the bathroom, indicating that Troy has disposed of the condom in the waste basket; and is now in the process of cleaning his cock with a wash cloth.
He walks back to the bedroom, where I am sitting up in bed, waiting for him.
“Let’s go upstairs and get some sleep,” Troy suggests.
“Thank you, Master,” I reply.
“You were very good in bed tonight.”
“Yes, Sir,” I answer, knowing full well that if I wasn’t I would either get spanked or whipped. Which is what usually passes for foreplay for me these days.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
* * *
“What’s new?” asked my girlfriend, Emily.
“I have a big decision to make,” I answered, “I have to decide if I’m going to renew my contract with Troy.”
We were having dinner together at a local restaurant, trading information on our jobs and sex lives; which we usually did on Wednesdays. Girls night out!
“That shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” Emily answered, taking a bite of her burger, “since you’ve told me how good you two seem to be getting along.”
“I don’t know, Emily,” I confessed, “I’m still not totally sold on the idea of being a submissive.”
“It’s a little late to get cold feet,” Emily replied, “you’ve already been collared for almost a year. Don’t you enjoy submission?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Has Troy ever hurt you physically?” Emily questioned.
“Does he discuss everything with you beforehand?”
“Then I really don’t understand the problem,” said Emily.
“It’s just that deep down I still feel that it’s a little weird getting tied up and whipped or cropped,” I answered.
“Madonna or whore,” Emily observed, “that’s your problem. You want a normal vanilla relationship, but at the same time you secretly like being tied up and punished.”
“Exactly,” I answer.
“Before I introduced you to Troy you complained that sex was boring. That the men you were seeing were dull. That you wanted someone a little different. Well, that’s exactly who I introduced you to. A man who knows what he wants, and who is willing to train you sexually to get it. Or would you rather go back to the men who you were seeing earlier who were afraid of sex?” Emily asked.
“Then you have to make a decision, Dawn. I introduced you to exactly the sort of man you wanted, and now you’re uncertain about continuing your relationship.”
“Yes, that’s my problem. I just can’t get over the idea that you enjoy being a submissive,” said Dawn.
“There’s an idea that scene people have is that we’re built differently. That we enjoy restraints and punishment,” Emily answered.
“Well I have certainly come to enjoy that, Emily. I get wet every time that Troy locks a collar around my neck, or takes a riding crop to my naked body, or places a ball-gag in my mouth.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about, Dawn. Relax and enjoy the fact that you’ve finally found the man you want. Unless you’d rather be vanilla and bored silly once again,” Emily observed.
“The trouble with you Emily is that you tell the truth,” said Dawn.
“There are no secrets between a Master and his submissive, Dawn. Especially when you’re naked and on the receiving end of a riding crop.”
* * *
I’m sitting at my kitchen table, reading my contract once more. When Troy had suggested the idea of a contract, I thought that he must be crazy. Since marriage vows hadn’t prevented my girlfriend Joy from having extra-marital affairs that destroyed her marriage; and really hurt her husband Craig; I hadn’t put much faith in the idea of a contract.
But instead, Troy had honored the contract better than some husbands do. When I was sick in the hospital, he saw me every day and took time off from work to take me home.
Troy once took me to a party, and I watched as a few Dominants use their submissives in public. It was all very interesting, though I would never do it myself. The other female submissives all seemed to be quite happy at the idea; stripped; and were whipped; cropped; and spanked for the entertainment of others.
That night, I awaken in bed, and realize that I’m alone. Do I really want to be alone again is the question that I keep asking myself.
The only problem is that I really don’t know if I’ll like the answer.
* * *
It’s Saturday night again, and like most other couples we’ve gone out to dinner. Troy has worn a new shirt and slacks with pair of shiny black shoes. I’ve worn my white sleeveless blouse, leather skirt, and high heels. We look every bit the happy couple. Troy is pleasant and attentive as usual. I’m the one who is a little nervous.
One of us is going to be very disappointed this night.
Troy has this strange ability to read my emotions. Even though I don’t betray my thoughts, he knows that there’s something different about me.
“Troy,” I begin, “I’m sorry to have to say this, but I can’t renew our contract. Being a submissive just isn’t for me,” I tell him over the dinner table.
“I thought that you liked it,” he answers.
“I do, Troy. But being tied up and punished just doesn’t do it for me,” I reply.
“Is there something else that we can do?”
“You’ll never cease being a Master, will you?” I ask.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just not a submissive,” I tell him.
“From the way you’ve acted in my playroom I thought that you enjoyed submission.”
“I do, but it’s just not for me.”
“What are you scared of? Getting in too deep?” he asks.
“Yes. I’ve read stories of women who become addicted to D/s. That they can’t have sex any other way other than to be dominated first. I can’t go through life with whip marks,” I tell him.
“You did read that article I gave you about endorphin highs?” he questions.
“Yes, and that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I won’t get orgasms from vaginal sex; but only from the whip. That’s a scary idea, Troy.”
“You can get both, it’s all a matter of training,” he tells me.
“I’m also afraid that you might have me pierced or tattooed. I’m not into either idea,” I tell him.
“Have I ever suggested that to you?” he asks.
“Then you know that I would never do that to you without your consent,” Troy tells me.
“Yes, but you have a way of being very convincing, Troy. It wouldn’t take much for you to sweet talk me into getting a piercing and wearing a medallion of some kind to denote ownership,” I reply.
“I want you say it plainly, then,” Troy tells me.
“All right then,” I begin, my voice full of emotion, “I’m sorry Troy, but I can’t renew our contract. I also have to break up with you, because I’m really not a submissive.”
“I don’t believe you, Dawn. You seemed to enjoy everything that we did together. Even the whip.”
“Maybe I did,” I answer him, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.”
Troy paid for dinner and drove me home, even walked me back to my apartment door.
“Bye, Dawn,” he told me, “I hope that you find what you want.”
“You too, Troy,” I tell him.
* * *
That night I cried myself to sleep, wondering whether I’d made a smart or stupid decision. Sunday morning I had to make breakfast for myself, and faced the prospect of being alone once more.
Troy had not asked for his collar back, and I placed it in the top drawer of my dresser. Some women like to tear up pictures and throw out the gifts of their past boyfriends. But I’m not one of those women, and besides, I was the one who had broken off our relationship, not him.
I recalled all the happy times I had worn the collar, both in public and during scenes. In later weeks, I’d place it around my neck and wear it around my apartment.
Friday and Saturday nights were the worst. I would either go out with a few other single women, or else alone, and sit at the bar watching happy couples together. I would sit there, and fantasize about them having sex in bed later that night.
I would, however, come home alone.
The few times I would go home with a man would prove disappointing. I wanted them to give me a spanking, or do it doggy style or something other than me in bed with my legs open. When I suggested the idea, they were repelled.
So now I’m sitting at my kitchen table, trying to decide whether to call Troy back and admit that I’ve made a horrible mistake and could he take me back? I’d even sign the contact again.
The End of “Dawn Makes Her Decision”
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