Meeting A Sadist free porn video

Master is at work awaiting his new girl's arrival at the motel. As instructed, she sent him a message with her room number as soon as she checked in and put the spare key card under the mat outside the door. He smiles as he mentally runs through everything he is going to do with her and to her.

Just thinking of meeting him has her cunt wet and slippery. She unpacks everything, organizing her BDSM gear so that all is accessible for her Master sadist. She has never shown anyone her entire collection; too embarrassing to even consider. But, her Master issued a command to bring everything to the hotel and lay it out for him. She looks at the small but impressive array of items. "What will he think of me after looking at this stuff?" she wonders.

She takes note at the many dildos that are way too huge for her body and considers hiding them. She has never been able to fit them into either of her holes, the pain was too intense. She fears that her sadistic Master will force those objects in her for the first of many times if he sees them.

Her tits throb as she connects the IV setup so he can super-size her breasts the way he likes them. She can imagine the "pin prick" as he inserts the IV catheter needles into her tit meat, and the sensations as the cold drops of saline begin to fill her breasts. She dreads it when he slaps her saline-engorged tits, slamming them into each other; the pain is a thousand times more intense. She lays out the breast pumps and connects the power cables but secretly hopes he will not make her pump. The pumps shape her nipples thick and long and wide making them extremely painful to be touched yet alone sucked or whipped or restrained.

Her butt cheeks involuntarily clench and unclench as she setups up the enema equipment. Master wants to clean his baby girl out so he can use her hard and deep. She can imagine him sliding the tube deep inside her rectum and releasing the warm soapy water into her bowels. When the bag is half empty and he allows her to expel, she can almost feel his cock fucking her throat as she empties. She wonders if after he fills her with the remaining liquid, he will shove an inflatable plug inside to trap the foamy liquid in her colon? She thinks for the second time about hiding the oversized dildos. Locking the liquid inside allows the fluid to sit in her colon and causes horribly debilitating cramps.

It's been over an hour, her unpacking and room setup chores are completed per his email instructions. She thinks back over his emails and realizes he never specified how she should be dressed. She wonders if what she is wearing will entice him to throw her on the bed and fuck her within minutes of his arrival. She is so horny, but sits quietly in the chair, hands clasped in her lap, waiting. All three laptops, two in the living room where she sits and the other in the bedroom, are playing BDSM videos with the volume set on low. Even so, she can hear the screams from the women as their sadistic masters use their bodies. She shivers with fear but her lust betrays her as her cunt fills with juices.

Without thinking, she takes a sip of Master's whiskey sitting on the table next to her chair. Her ears strain for the sound of a car in the parking lot or the click of the key lock. Another half hour passes and her nervousness increases. She wants to peek out the window, see him drive up, watch him retrieve the key card from under the mat, but he told her to sit quietly, hands clasped in her lap, legs clenched tightly together, head bowed demurely towards the floor until his arrival.

Suddenly a key card unlocks the door and he walks in. She is unsure of how to greet him so she walks to him and extends her hand. He clasps it and allows her to lead him inside. "This will be the first and last time she is allowed to take the initiative or lead him." he decides.

As he turns away from her, he commands her, "Put out the Do Not Disturb sign and lock the door."

She tries to turn around after latching the locks but he had advanced upon her, slamming her body into the door, smashing her tits against the hard wood. Pulling her arm behind her back into a hammer lock he wraps his free hand tightly around her throat. In a stern and demanding tone, one word is whispered menacingly into her ear.

"STRIP."

Only a whisper escapes with his grip on her throat. "Yes Sir."

He sits in the overstuffed chair sipping the glass of whiskey she prepared for him, watching her clothes drop to the floor piece by piece.

Naked, she faces him, bows her head, and quietly declares, "Master, do as you wish with me. Make me your baby girl pain slut."

No response from him. He continues to sip his drink as she stands before him, head lowered, eyes downcast, hands clasped behind her back, legs spread wide. Several more minutes pass and her anxiety increases. "Did he hear me? Why is he just sitting there? I am horny as hell and need to be fucked. He hasn't even kissed me."

He takes another sip, noticing the change in her breathing, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate as her uneasiness mounts in the silence. Threads of arousal leak from her cunt and glisten between her spread thighs. He can see that she is struggling not to look at him and to stay in position.

Finally, he stands, gathers her clothes, and tosses them into a corner. "You will not need clothes unless I want you to dress and then I will choose what you wear." His voice is stern, commanding, like a dictator issuing orders to his minions.

Slowly, he circles her body, so close that she can feel his warm breath on her skin. He pauses, takes another sip, and sets the glass down.

Grabbing her head between his large hands, he forces his thumbs into her mouth, pulling her lips wide to examine her teeth. A few seconds later, he takes several fingers and shoves them to the back of her throat causing her to gag violently. He turns his fingers back and forth, clenched tightly and then spread wide inside her mouth.

He moves his hands to her throat and clenches them tightly, his thumbs applying gentle even pressure against her windpipe. He shakes his hands forward and backward, her head flopping back and forth as her face drains of color.

"I am your Daddy. I am your Master. I am your most sadistic nightmare." He explains even as he increases the pressure on her throat, and then spats on her face.

"You are a piece of meat, my bitch dog, my slave whore, and sometimes, my baby girl fuck toy." a final shake of her head and he releases his grip.

He walks around her body again, but this time, examines her like a piece of meat for sale at the market or a horse at an auction. He pulls her nipples straight out and pinches them flat, watching as she grimaces and strains to hold steady. He compresses each breast between his large hands then wrings it left and right, smiling as tears pool her eyes.

He slaps at one tit, then the other, then both from the outside. She whimpers softly and flinches. He responds, removing his belt with impressive speed and slamming it down on her backside.

"You will not make a sound. You will not move."

She does not reply but shakes her head in affirmation. He slams the belt across her backside again.

"You will respond with "Yes Sir" when I tell you something."

Meekly, she squeaks out, "Yes, Sir."

Resuming his examination, he admires the red streaks left by his belt on her lily white butt. "Bend forward and spread your cheeks." She reaches behind her and pulls her butt cheeks as wide apart as she can and bends at the waist.

He shoves one finger up her ass, pondering if his entire hand will fit. He pulls his finger out. "Hands at your side."

"Yes Sir." she moans.

Walking around to her front, grasping her crouch in his fist, "You must always be clean shaven for me."

She sniffles silently. His belt slams into the back of her thighs just below her butt cheeks.

She buckles and screams out "Yes Sir." this time avoiding the belt.

Master pushes her roughly to the floor onto her hands and knees, pressing her forehead into the carpet, kicking her legs to spread wider, his fingers cupped into her anal hole lifting her ass higher. Squeezing her butt cheeks, he slaps each globe before rearing his arm back and delivering a direct hit of burning leather. Her body lurches forward, her face scraping against the carpet.

"You were only getting 10 but since you moved, it is now 15. Do not move even an inch. Stay in position or I will add five more to the total."

He strikes from her right several times, then moves to her left. He leaves the belt where it landed to allow the burn to sink into her flesh.

He counts each strike.

"Eight. Seven more to go baby girl. Your butt cheeks are looking good. Bright red just like I like them."

"Ten. Poor baby girl. That must have hurt. You had five more to go, but you moved. Now you get 20."

"Seventeen."

"Fuck!" she screams out.

"You are not allowed to cuss. I should add another five to your count, but I have a more interesting punishment."

He pulls a bar of soap from his bag. Before he arrived, he tapered one end similar to the base of a butt plug to ensure it stays inside her but left the blunt wide end as is. He knows it will hurt significantly more going in. Instead of lubing her opening, he wet the soap until it was covered in a thin layer of suds.

"Reach back and spread your butt cheeks."

Unable to see what he is doing, she feels a cold slippery substance at her sphincter followed by pressure, then extreme pressure as he forces something inside her. Her agony worsens as a slow burn from the soap seeps into her tissue. Silently, she mutters, "How can I not move this hurts so fucking much?"

Finishing her punishment, he takes note that the table is set, and food ready to serve when he is hungry. Good girl, he thought to himself.

Wanting to give her a few minutes to catch her breath and removed the soap. He examines her toys and equipment, all carefully laid out for his inspection. She wants to look up, to watch his reaction to her collection of toys, but is fearful to move without permission. His cock starts to twitch inside his pants as he reviews her eclectic collection of toys and equipment.

Walking into the bedroom, he sees the saline IV setup, one for each tit, everything ready for him to plunge the needle into her breasts and start the IV drip. His cock aches to be freed as he imagines her tits after he sizes them to his personal preference. Yes, it may take two or three hours to safely fill them, but he wants the full two cups in each tit. He wants them heavier, fuller, and painful to touch even before he starts using her, torturing her, laying claim to her as his personal property.

He sees the catheter equipment laid out next to the bed and ready for insertion if he chooses to control her bladder. Pre-cum leaks from the tip as he imagines his cock in her hot slippery cunt and then her shock as ice cold sterile water fills her bladder. He loves to fuck her violently and build a ferocious heat in her cunt. When he releases the value and floods her bladder, the coolness penetrates her thin vaginal walls and the fullness of her bladder presses down around his cock like a glove and makes his orgasm many more times explosive.

Walking into the bathroom, he sees the enema equipment setup and ready to be released into her rectum. As he washes his hands, he thinks about what he wants to do next. So many things to do, so little time.

Only two full days to break her down and then three weeks to train her to serve and submit to anything he wants. The military way for new recruits during basic training is his specialty being a career military commander.

Break 'em fast and hard, then make 'em into the soldiers they must be.

He smiles. This slut has no idea how long he has been searching for someone like her nor what he plans to do with her over the next three weeks.

Her body is a roadmap of abject fear and unrequited lust. She stands rigid as “fight or flight” alarms roar in her head. Sweat drips from her flesh. Her forehead crinkles in consternation. Her lips appear frozen into a forced smile. Her fists open and close as if stretching her fingers.

Yet, her body ekes arousal. Her hips sway provocatively searching for a cock to penetrate her loins. Her nipples are erect, long, thick and reaching out, screaming for attention. Vines of sweet woman-juice ooze from her cunt and slowly slide down her thighs.

It is essential in these early stages to teach her that unacceptable behavior, any bending of his rules, any deviation from his desires will be swiftly and brutally punished. Actions have consequences. It is a lesson he hopes she learns quickly.

As he walks back to her, he again examines the impressive array of BDSM items laid out for his use and pleasure. Opening his bag, he pulls out his collar, leash, blindfold, and faces her. He buckles the collar around her neck, tightens the blindfold around her head, and then attaches the leash.

The blindfold is so thick that it shrouds her in absolute darkness. Standing erect, leash dangling between her legs, she struggles to hear any sign of him or what he is doing.

“Clasp your hands behind your neck and push your tits out.” his voice interrupts the nervous silence.

Lifting his wooden paddle from his bag, he swishes it through the air like a batter warming up his swing. He loves the musical whooshing sound as the board slices through the air in front her. Her entire body shudders as wind from the paddle fans the sweat adhering to her skin. She licks her lips in trepidation, not knowing what is to come.

He notices that she is clearly under stress and possibly about to lose it. His prolonged silences and unresponsiveness toward her needs is nearly unbearable, worse is his lack of touching her. Yes, his belt has bitten into her hide, but nary a lover’s touch from him. He is spending his time slowly preparing her for his “possession” or “take over”. He plans to own her, in fact all of her, mind, body, even demanding her soul.

She senses movement, but is unable to fully form details as he takes his position to the side of her, like her body was home plate. With all the care of batter poised to hit a home run, he raises the wooden paddle in an elegant high back-swing and cracks it flat into her nipple. Her breast shakes violently, and her nipple compresses then sinks deep into her chest cavity. The amount of force behind that swing was impressive.

"The female body is full of special nerve endings." His voice is almost chatty. "Little places partially hidden by folds or tuffs of skin; places where pain can be concentrated and magnified a thousand, even a million times. Lucky (or perhaps unlucky) for you, I know them all.”

Her nipples retreated inside the fleshy breast tissue for protection after the second strike. Her breasts throb and burn after five direct hits on each, yet her hands remain as ordered.

Picking up his bag, he guides her to the IV setup in the bedroom. He decided to shape her tits to the size he prefers before he really starts to break her of her willfulness; before he systematically strips her of her former self. He thinks perhaps two cup sizes would be nice and are within the “safe” threshold.

Crawling behind him into the bedroom, he commands her to sit in the chair, impaling her anal opening on a short inflatable dildo that when pumped to the maximum, inflates to a whopping four inch diameter. Reaching into his bag, he collects straps and belts to bind her to the chair. Unable to move, he gently slides the IV needles into each breast and regulates the flow of the saline drip.

Her sadistic Master then fishes in his magic bag again pulling out a nose plug and headphones to go along with the blindfold. While her breasts slowly fill, he secures the remaining items to her. He knows that depriving her of nearly all her senses is an effective control technique and an integral part of initial slave training. He inflates the butt plug several times before he walks away.

She is cloaked in a vacuum filled with silence and blackness as she struggles to breathe through her mouth. Her imagination runs amuck envisioning what may be next and wondering how terrible it will be.

He turns on an audio-visual reconditioning system. He is only using only the audio component connected to her headset as she sits quietly, tightly bound, blindfolded, and oddly aroused by the gentle drops of saline slowly filling and expanding her breasts.

He designed the audio-visual tracks to strip away the higher personality layers that made her a successful business professional. When he is finished with her reconditioning, she will have no dignity, no pride, and no limit to the depth of depravity she will descend at his command.

Her existence will soon focus solely on his needs which includes her submitting to his sadistic urges without a second thought or a moment's hesitation. His friend has several dogs that regularly breed with women and are attracted more towards the scent of a human cunt than their own species.

The headset connected to the reconditioning system plays over and over again. Voice tracks fill her minds-eye with abject fear as he foretells of what he wants to do or will do, how he is going to use sensory deprivation, frequent discipline, long hard training sessions, along with prolonged exhaustion until she is completely broken. Yes, her training includes administering pain, pure raw pain to ensure that she will absolutely be a totally compliant bitch.

Sandwiched between his voice recordings are tracks of women screaming, crying, begging their Masters to stop whatever is being done to them. The sound of a whip crashing into flesh plays like an intermission between his voice and the screams.

"You are my sex slave, my fuck meat."

"When I strap you into my stockade ..."

"You exist solely to serve at my pleasure, not yours."

"When I shove my fist inside your cunt or ass ..."

"I am your sadist where all your nightmares become reality."

"When I torture your tits ..."

"You are going to be my bitch and will fuck or suck or submit to anyone or any animal I tell you to fuck ..."

Terrified but finally accepting that she is in over her head, she decides to make a run for it. He is real and will do everything and anything he wants. There is no way out. This is no longer a role-playing BDSM session. This is real-life and he is going to take her, use her, abuse her, then sell her when he tires of her.

If only she can tell him that she gives up, that he does not have to break her down. "I will be a good girl. God I wish the screaming of those women would stop. I am so scared that I may pee on the chair." These along with hundreds of other thoughts shake her to her very core. A thin layer of sweat collects on the surface of her skin.

Make no mistake. He is a sadist. A total pervert. And he is determined to own her and exploit her.

At least one cup of saline has filled her breasts. The added weight of her tits and the coolness of the liquid under the surface of her skin has magnified her need to cum.

She has not always been this way. Well maybe that's not true. She always sided with the villain, the baddest of the bad. While most people hoped that Batman and Robin would prevail over evil, she secretly rooted for the Joker, Riddler, and even Lex Luther. And she desperately wanted to be their prize should they succeed in their endeavors against good.

She does not know how much time has passed before he walks back into the room. Unbeknownst to her, in his hand is a knife. He slides the tip of the blade up along her inner thighs. As she starts to open her mouth, he quickly closes it hard with his hands, her teeth coming together and barely missing her tongue.

He can see her tremble as he draws circles around her stomach, her fingers twitching from uncertainty if he is actually cutting her or not. Fear builds within her. Quietly he leaves the room again, leaving her to wonder. Is he still there? Did he cut me and is just letting me bleed?" These questions play on her nerves and put her sanity in jeopardy.

Finally the IV bags are empty and her breasts are fuller and firmer and far heavier. After removing the needles, he grabs a breast one in each hand and checks for firmness and pliability and verifies that their new size meet his requirements. Oh yes, as he slaps them he estimates they went from a measly 36C to a DDD. Each nipple is fully accessible. Pulling, twisting, and squeezing her tits, she grimaces from the pain, and he smiles.

This is what it is all about. This is what gets him off. Total control. He is going to shape her into every man's greatest fantasy when he is finished.

Again he leaves her alone with her thoughts of what will be next now that he has sized her tits to his liking.

“Will I be left here all night? Will he release me from this chair? When he does release me what will happen? Are my breasts to his satisfaction? Will I be punished if they are not?” So many questions with so many possible answers.

She cries out to an empty room, "Please, Master, fuck your slut. I need it so bad. Please I'll give you the best fuck you've ever had."

Three hours of sensory deprivation and audio reconditioning is having an effect on her. Shrouded in blackness, the sounds that have filled her mind are no longer a turn-off, the desperate screams from women being used or tortured, between her sadist's fear-inspiring voice foretelling of her future, along with the loud cracks of leather as it collides with flesh, none seem to instill tension and fear. Actually, quite the opposite.

Her crinkled forehead is now smooth, her mouth shaped into a perfect oval, perhaps trying to coax his cock to penetrate her. Two large well shaped mountains rest on her chest and jiggle as she struggles to breathe with the nose clips. Considering how heavy her perfectly shaped tits are, neither droops, not even a millimeter.

Her hips begin to sway and grind onto the butt plug. She has grown accustomed to the size so he inflates it several more times and she moans; the pain of her sphincter stretching further interrupted her concentration on the audio tracks. He estimates her opening is probably spread about three inches now.

A pool of liquid arousal has grown significantly on the chair's seat, rivulets of moisture steadily tricking from her body with each passing minute. Her clit has grown into an explosively large angry red knob. If he simply touched it, just lightly brushed his finger across her clit, the resulting orgasmic vortex would consume her completely.

Detrimentally so.

It would not be just a single massive orgasm, judging by the size of her clit. No, it will be a long series of orgasms, each more volatile than its predecessor with one blending into the next and the next. The likelihood of her recovering all of her wits, actually, recovering at all from such an orgasm would be slim to none. She would be out of service for hours after such an experience.

That is not to say that he would want her to recover. After all, he is, by nature, a sadist first and foremost. He has trained many slaves, mostly for other clients. And he is good at this.

The difference is that this is the first time he has trained his own personal slave. This means that he must rebuild her for his likeness, his preferences, his pervasions, not his client's laundry list of expected outcomes.

Most of his training will be exceptionally painful and challenging for her as he slowly guides her into unprecedented levels of debasement, degradation, and debauchery.

Building her addiction to pleasure this soon in the process would be a strategic mistake. It gives her hope and hope boosts her confidence, undoubtedly setting back her training by several days. He has seen it occur with new Doms.

The only hope he wants her to have is hope that she pleases him.

This is a one-way journey; a rite of passage for her. These first 48 hours are the most crucial and also challenging because he must break her down until she is exhausted, desperate, sexually over stimulated. She will hit bottom, transitioning into a blubbering piece of nothingness, unable to think or make a single decision, totally dependent on her Master to tell her what to do next. Even simple tasks like satisfying her thirst, it will not occur to her to simply fill a glass of water for herself.

Then and only then can he re-shape her into his slave, his slut, his personal whore. When she is fully reconditioned for his pleasure, she will beg to do absolutely anything for him, of course, ever most in the background, she will have hope ... hope that if she succeeds in pleasing him, she may be rewarded with a rare orgasm.

Condensation from the cold saline and the warmth of her breast tissue shimmers on her magnificent twin mountains. He cannot take his eyes off them, watching in wonderment as they tremble slightly with each breath she takes. They truly are a sight to behold. Unable to contain himself any longer, he clutches them, squeezing each like fresh produce to check firmness and pliability. Both are heavily engorged, her flesh pulled taunt with the nipples stretched flat at the tips. He smiles as she cringes from the pressure his is applying, yet does not pull away.

Tiny moans escape from her throat as her back arches to push her tits into his hands for more attention. Tiny blue veins flutter just beneath the surface of her pale skin, lightly decorated by speckles of dark blue to angry purple bruises from his earlier whipping.

What is missing is her long thick pencil eraser-shaped nipples. He must have her nipples back; he enjoys tugging, sucking, and otherwise torturing them. Releasing her from the chair, he leaves her blindfold, nose plug, headphones, and butt plug in place. Grasping her breasts like you would hold two large cantaloupes, he tugs her upwards until she stands. Her legs are shaky from sitting for several hours bound to the chair and her center of gravity is off with her newly engorged breasts. She teeters forward and leans against his body for support.

Attempting to lure him into fucking her, she tentatively reaches out in search of his cock tucked away in his jeans; she is desperate for an orgasm. Stepping away from her, he smiles as her hands flail just short of actually making contact with his body. Grasping her arms, he roughly folds them behind her back and tightly binds her wrists.

Unable to resist, he grabs each breast again and fondles them with pride. These are his creation, his tits, shaped and sized his way. And he loves it.

Time has taken its toll, her mind nearly devoid of even a single remnant of her previous life. All conscience thoughts now have a singular and absolute focus ... the throbbing in her clit, the stimulation of her breasts, the drooling of her cunt, the widening of her anal cavity.

The growing inability to think straight or logically is hanging by a tenuous thread and her above average intelligence makes her keenly aware that this is happening. Yet she is helpless to stop this torturous descent into an inner world where animalistic needs, raw animal lust takes precedence even above her need for food and water.

The expressions on her face tell the devastating story after only four hours. She does not know it yet, but she is a long way from her future-defining moment and instead believes she is simply going mad. She is not that far off ... the constant deep, deep throbbing steadily propels her down a one-way journey to hell. His hell.

Brutally jarred back to the present with his belt across her backside, she realizes that he is leading her, no, dragging her by the rope tied tightly around her tits. When did he bind her breasts?

Again he pulls the leash, leading her forward with each tug. Following more out of survival, she blindly puts one foot in front of the other knowing that any wrong step will result in Master's belt. The room is not that large, yet he leads her in so many directions that her head spins, opening and closing doors along the way.

Frightening thoughts plague her as he leads her somewhere or is it nowhere? Ten steps forward. Six steps to the right. Eight steps forward. A door opens and cold air rushes around her body. Seven steps to the right. A door closes. Twelve steps forward. Five steps to the left.

Blindly following his lead as fear and confusion builds within her. "Where is he taking me? What is he going to do next? Is he going to put me on display to hotel guests in front of the large window? Is he going to take me to another room where other people are waiting to use me? Or is he just mind-fucking me and dragging me about the room with no real purpose in mind?"

Fifteen steps forward. One foot in front of the other. Her breasts hurt as he tugs the rope drawing her closer to the next step, whatever the next step entails.

Feeling the softness of the bed against her legs, she falls forward, but he is fast. Grabbing her tits, he presses his fingertips into the firm but yielding tissue. Lifting her upright, he spins her around and pushes her face-up onto the bed. Moans of agony escape as her body weight pins her bound wrists into the mattress.

With absolute clarity and from out of nowhere, a rational cohesive thought screams inside her head, jarring her back to sanity with bright lights and alarms flashing,

"If he binds me to this bed, my chances of escape will be permanently non-existent."

There is absolutely no doubt that this man, her new Master sadist is not role-playing as she originally believed. He is everything he said he was. He is for real and this is not a game for him. This is real life and he is going to change her reality to his.

She must escape and not just physically escape from him. She could have bolted as he walked her from corner to post. She had an opportunity to run or at the very least call out for help. No, her imprisonment , although physical, is exponentially more devastating to her psychological and emotional well-being.

Clouds of fog lift inside her brain, endorphins begin to ignite, her brain awakening as if drugged. Even though she is engulfed in darkness and deprived of hearing anything other than the audio clips, she knows, absolutely knows that if she does not run now, she will never be able to escape him.

Such is the powerful force of him that draws her inexplicably closer to losing her emotional and mental faculties. Completely eradicated will be her decision making ability, her intellect, her thought processes, and overall wellbeing.

"Run. Kick him away from you. Don't let him grab your ankles. Fight him." her mind screams at her to respond, calling her to action, clanging inside her head like a siren in a firehouse.

She thrashes about, rolling away from him even as he grips her left ankle and yanks it closer to the foot post. She hears the click of the clamp as he secures it to the D-ring on her ankle cuff, successfully binding that one leg to the bed post. Kicking violently with her free limb, pushing him away from her, fighting as she has never fought before, even as she realizes that with her wrists bound behind her back and one leg shackled to the bed, it is too late. Way too late.

Pain springs up on the back of her thighs, her body lurches violently to escape both the pain and her future as his sex slave. Another strike of his belt pounds some sense into her, most likely her final logical intellectual thought.

"It's too late. Stay still. Let him have his way. Accept that he will never be my friend, my lover, my mate. Instead, he is my Master. My sadist. My daddy Dom. And sooner or later, accept that my sole purpose, my reason for living and breathing, will be to serve him."

Watching her expressions as her mind and body fight a vicious, but losing battle, he smiles. Seven hours and the erosion of her spirit is progressing as designed.

He spreads her legs and binds her free leg to the bed's footboard. Gently rolling her, he disconnects the wrists locks from behind her back and fastens them to the headboard. She is stretched like a wishbone, ready to break if she attempts to move against the tautness of her bonds.

Then nothing. Not one damn thing. She thinks she is alone again, but is unsure. The audio recording begins but this time, she welcomes it. She needs the companionship from the screams of pain, she needs the comfort of his voice foretelling her future, and the sound of the whip colliding with flesh to pound it into her brain, and yes, it restarts the flow of cunt juices. Her hips lunge and rotate seeking something, anything to fill the void between her legs.

Lost deep in her reconditioned thoughts, she is startled by cold hard steel against her flesh as he draws the tip of his knife lightly across the surface. The backside of the blade traces every curve of her body starting at the base of her neck moving from one side to the other, pressing deeply into her but not enough to actually break the surface. He starts at the base of her throat, slowly progressing to her over-sized mounds, circling her breast until finally he presses it into her nipple before moving to her other breast. Up and around the nipple, then over to the other, then slowly migrating down to her mid-section, pausing to press into her belly button.

The knife follows the curves of her body, never touching her womanly areas, but coming so damn close that her body moves into the blade. Progressing downward, the knife traces her thigh, down her leg, bottom of her foot, back up the inside of her leg slowly making its way to her pelvic bone before traveling to her other leg.

He is amused watching her reactions as he outlines her body with his knife. Each little quiver and flinch follows the blade as it traverses the length of her body. He wonders if she is scared or excited as the cold shinny knife strokes her body? Is she still fighting the recording being played over and over again? Most would have given in by now; at the very least, repeating what the recording has fed into the brain. For that stubborn streak she has in her, he will keep her sexually deprived and continue her audio reconditioning for several more hours.

A collection of slippery discharge seeps from inside her, collecting around the shaft of her massively swollen clit before drooling down the length of her cunt lips and seeping between her cheeks. Two little drip points of juices soak into the bed linens beneath her. Highly sexually charged, her body grinds and gyrates against the cold blade as it travels around her luscious curves. She needs him to take her hard, even brutal, to satisfy the hunger burning between her legs. Desperation ekes from every pore filling the room with her pheromones. So strong is her lusty scent that it would entice any man or animal to gladly satisfy her need to be bred.

A warm finger traces the liquid oozing from her body as it slides between her legs like lava flows down the sides of a volcano. Intense heat radiates and her juices sizzle. She is tight, very tight. For what he has planned, she will have to be stretched much larger than this. Slipping two fingers in her cunt, her muscles clench both tightly, holding him almost in a death grip. Once again, he marvels at how tight she is. Fucking her for the first time will be almost like breaking a cherry on a newbie as tight as her cunt is. It is a certainty that she will have to be stretched to accommodate the girth and length of his cock.

Soft throaty moans of pleasure create an intoxicating melody for his engorged and throbbing cock. He wants to shove his pulsing member inside her slippery tunnel and relentlessly fuck her. But it is too early and she is too close to cumming. Besides, he has more to do to prepare her for when he does consummate their Master/slave relationship. Feeding her his fingers, she licks each clean, and once again, he leaves her alone, bound, cloaked in darkness, with his mantra of audio tracks filling the void in her mind.

Fuck it. Unable to deny himself any longer, he stands over her and once again admires her body, writhing in search of cock to fill her. He straddles her mid-section just below her glorious tits pushing them upwards even as his knees squeeze them together. Reaching between her thighs, he coats his fingers with her juices and smears his cock. Sliding between the soft yielding tit flesh, he reaches up and removes the gag from her mouth. His desire is infinitely more intense and is reflected in the size of his cock, nearly reaching her lips as he slides between her twin mountains.

Heavily laden with semen, his balls dance upon her chest with each thrust, her two burning masses forming a cocoon around his pole. Gliding, thrusting, lunging, his body is alive with sensations as his eruption nears. Pre-cum no longer leaks or dribbles, tiny droplets shoot from his stem and splat on her chin. As this sensual tit-fucking dance comes to a close, he grins like a wolf about to consume a new-born lamb.

Every inch of his manhood vibrates with spectacular sensations as semen pumps up from his balls, burst through his cock, and explodes from his tip. The incredible orgasm ejects from his stem with incredible force covering her face, soaking into her blindfold, shooting up her nose and into her opened mouth. Burst after incredible burst of cum from his loins continues for several minutes until his ball sacks are completely emptied.

The spinning room finally stands still as he slowly gathers his wits. In his chest, something foreign clutches at his heart strings as he quietly surveys her cum-soaked face beneath him. His softening cock remains sandwiched between her succulent breasts.

There is no doubt about it. This woman is every man’s temptress, a true enchantress created to be enjoyed and used by men. Her sole purpose in life is to drain men of the lust she inspires with just a glance. The scent of her womanhood arouses raw animal lust and stimulates dark perverted thoughts in males of every species. Yes. He selected well.

Soon, very soon, she will have a constant blazing in her cunt, an unquenchable hunger for pain equal to her thirst for pleasure. Lust will rule her universe and drive her to perform unspeakable acts. Her mouth and cunt will drool with oceans of liquid in anticipation of being used. The rest of her days will be spent in search of cocks to satisfy, to please. She will crave cocks, any and all cocks to fuck her, any opening, any time, and any way they wish as long as they fill her orifices with volumes of sperm.

She will only know happiness when fed a steady diet of cocks and sadists. Under his careful direction and supervision, she will realize her full potential, in particular, how to serve men. She will be the whore she was meant to be, his whore, not the high society charity ball-hosting bitch that she was less than a day ago.

Never has he experienced an orgasm that intense nor that explosive. His semi-hard cock is an angry dark purple and highly sensitive, painfully so. His balls ache from the violent contractions that forced his seed up through his long shaft and projected onto her face. It felt like the fountain of semen erupting from his loins would never stop.

Scooping his precious seed from her face, he feeds it to her, pushing his fingers down her throat to test her gag reflex. She struggles to breathe under his body, and is stunned by her reaction to his violent tit-fucking. At first, she was put off by the pain of her compressed breasts. She hated it when the tip of his cock stabbed at her chin and slapped against her lips. His balls dragged heavily up and down her chest cavity like they were 50 pound bowling balls.

With her body besieged by a sexual hunger so severe and out of control that she would gladly fuck anything, anyone, or any animal for relief. She is drowning in cunt juices and as she consumes his seed, her only thought is how to get more. She is a greedy little cum-drinking slut.

He knows that when he fully breaks her, removes all her thought processes and belief system, and then begins her grueling training regime, she will be carefully crafted and shaped into serving his needs, his desires. What he did not anticipate was his cock’s response to her, or his heart. It is very possible he is falling in love with her, which in his occupation, is an unacceptable consequence.

Fourteen hours and still she teeters on the edge of insanity. Echoes of the screams ricocheting inside her mind, his deep sexy voice foretelling of the painful journey she must embark upon, and the crack of the whip accentuating his every word, has left her intoxicated, lost in a maelstrom of lust. A yearning for her new life to begin takes root deep in her psyche.

She imagines the bite of leather and visualizes the reverberation of flesh as her body absorbs the impact, sending waves of pain throughout her loins. She wants to cry out for him to stop as he whips her into a sexual frenzy, yet she wants him to use her, degrade her, humiliate her, and ultimately, fuck every orifice filling her with his life-sustaining seed. But he holds back; never allowing her an orgasm, always keeping her on the slippery slope of need and desperation.

He has so much work to do on her before she is ready to be taken to the next location. Breaking from his thoughts, he prepares for the next step.

Silently, he creeps into the bedroom and watches as she sleeps. Lightly snoring with the nose plug forcing her to breathe through her mouth, her head is turned to the side with her golden hair fanned out forming an angel’s halo on the pillow. His cock stiffens and begins to twitch in anticipation.

Twenty-three hours. She is closer to the mentally diminished state where he needs her to be; a state of mind where she has no thoughts or decision-making abilities and will eagerly rely solely on him to instruct her. There should not be any further resistance, her prior faculties replaced by an automatic response of absolute compliance and obedience.

Usually hard and thick like an eraser on the tip of a pencil, her nipples are instead compressed into her engorged breasts. Carefully, he attaches milking cups, verifies that her nipples are centered in each tube, and engages the pumps. Her chest cavity lurches, startled by the powerful suction that draws her nipples deeper into the clear tubes. He adjusts the speed to the fast setting and the suction force to strong for more immediate results.

Loud whimpers escape from her throat and it is difficult to say if they are pleasure or pain-fueled moans. Regardless, thick white cunt juice begins to form and collect at her opening.

Releasing her ankles one by one, he bends her legs up and over her head then connects the restraint to the headboard. Oh yes, finally, an unobstructed view of her secret womanly areas. Even though she trims very close, he wants bald. He loves the feeling of flesh-to-flesh contact when he finally chooses to fuck her and hates a mouthful of cunt hairs when licking and sucking between her legs. More than anything, though, when he whips her clit, he wants to see the crimson red of her cunt lips and her small penis-sized clit painfully protruding.

Warming a wet hand cloth in the microwave, he covers her cunt area pressing the cloth into her skin to wet the shaving area. Using an antique Badger brush, he works up a thick lather with the specialty soap he purchased just for this occasion.

Shaving is no longer the luxurious experience it used to be. His Badger Brush is a reminder of just how opulent a good shave can be, rewarding, relaxing, and rejuvenating. Its trademark bristles are made of pure Badger hair and creates a rich lather that softens stubble, opens pores, and gently exfoliates. All those benefits lead to a closer groin shave without red bumps and often create a near-orgasmic experience as well, unlike a manual shaving-cream hand-smeared application.

Starting at the top of her pubic hair line just under the belly button, he moves the lather-soaked brush in tiny circles, periodically re-coating the brush with more lather. Tiny circles he makes with the Badger brush, weaving back and forth, section by section, around and around in circles on her belly. The brush then eases slowly to the left side of her cunt lips and slides a little ways down the inside of her thigh.

Always, small gentle tickling circles that lightly caress her skin yet coats her flesh with a thick layer of the fragrant lather. Continuing its expedition, the Badger bristles slip lower and leave a thick trail of lather to her anus, and then begins the slow climb upwards on the right cunt lip and finishes at her bikini line.

The straight razor, also known as the “cut-throat” razor, has been sterilized for about 20 minutes and is ready. Pulling her skin taunt, he lays the sharp edge against her belly flesh and with the precision of a surgeon, removes the hair from her sex.

Her body is so tightly restrained that she cannot move, and that is a good thing with him between her legs using an ice cold straight razor blade to shave her unwanted pubic hair. However, nothing can stop the constant production of cunt juices as they ooze between her crack and cut a small trail in the thick white foam.

Once again, a hot moist hand towel to clean the residual shaving foam from her nether region and moisten her pores to prevent the ugly red bumps from forming. A deep sigh shudders through her body although it is unsure if it is because he is finished or because of the soothing effect of the towel pressed into her sex.

A sight too tempting to simply admire, he lowers his mouth and gently laps at her clit. He circles the tip with his tongue, around and around he goes. So exciting is the sensation that she moans, not a throaty sound, but the low guttural sound of an animal being sexually stimulated.

His tongue slides up and down the outside of her cunt lips, so close to her opening yet still too far away for her needs. Her mouth forms an oval as she gives in to the rising passion that claws at her womanhood. Molten bliss lies just inside her canal if only he would touch her there, move his tongue there, her pleasure lies a measly few millimeters away.

Unable to move, unable to smash his face into her cunt, the coals inside her belly burn out of control, flames of unrequited passion lap at the entrance to her sex, yet he torments her and denies her this one kindness.

The promise of ecstasy churns through her body like a white-water rapid as his tongue continues its expedition along the curves and valleys of her sex. Every path his tongue travels leaves of trail of pure bliss as she hovers at the precipice of a life-changing orgasm. And as she approaches the chasm and is ready to make the leap to orgasmic heaven, he stops completely or bites at her clit, startling her with pain and interrupting her pleasure.

The sparkle drains from her face, replaced by a deep-seated hunger. Her sensuous, deep red lips part in an almost pornographic pout. Constant stimulation and denial does that to women.

“Please. Just one. Let me have just one orgasm. Please.” she cries out, her focus once again singular and desperate. That constant throbbing of her sex must be satiated.

Rising, he checks her breast pumps and decides her nipples are not quite large enough and leaves her alone, trussed up with her cunt exposed and spread wide.

After what seemed like hours later, she is on the cusp of defeat, overcome by the enormity of the desire raging between her thighs. Unable to maintain her silence any longer, her frustration boils out of control. A pitiful mantra spouts from her core, dripping with distain because he has yet to touch her in any meaningful sexual way. Hopelessness lurks just below the surface even as the insanity of her situation closes in on her.

“Please fuck me. PLEASE just get it over with. What do you want from me? Want me to suck your cock you bastard? P L E A S E. J U S T F U C K M E!”

Quietly, he smiles. She is close, almost completely dependent upon him. Her psychological need for sexual release is so deeply seated that it supersedes her body’s need for even the basics of life such as food and water.

Her quivering body has been reduced to a violent shaking contained only by the restraints. She is completely at his mercy such is the control that he has systematically taken from her.

“Fuck me you bastard. P L E A S E F U C K M E!”

Her sex throbs and vibrates and all sensations center in the tip of her clit where a “Mammoth Pounding Pulse” threatens to explode if not soon allowed release. Having removed her blindfold after 30 plus hours, her eyes are wild, manic, her face twisted in a knot of sheer anguish. Her fingers clench and stretch as she struggles to cope with this unbearable hell he has forced her into.

Another hour he thinks. Yes, another hour or two and he will finish preparing her. He wants everything to be perfect when he decides to finally violate her, using every orifice to consummate his ownership of her. And he will do so with astounding violence, rutting deep in each cavity, occupying every space all the while, tunneling deeper inside her body; far deeper and intensely more painfully invasive than any prior lover has ever traveled.

“Please let me suck your cock you bastard. P L E A S E. I N E E D T O B E F U C K E D! What do you want from me? Just fucking tell me and I will do it.”

The noises coming from the bedroom are not really human at all, more subhuman, a woman at the apex of sexual stimulation but lost in the darkness of denial and resulting futility. Pitiful sounds drift from the room, her body drenched with sweat, and her face so distorted that she is barely recognizable as the confident, intelligent woman who opened her hotel door to him some thirty plus hours ago.

Sobs, deep soulful sobs rack her body and summarize her emotional state: agitation, sexual frustration, and abject misery. And shame. Yes, she feels shame believing that she has done something to displease him and deserves this suffering.

A vicious cycle of need, exhaustion, frustration, doubt, all merge and collectively, drain the final remnants of her former vanilla life, stripping her of any semblance of identity. Exhaustion finally provides a respite from her torment as she slips into a dreamless sleep.

But not for long.

He removes the cylinders and re-examines her nipples. Oh yes, wonderfully sensitive, large, thick, elongated; perfection once again. The protective membrane over each nipple is stretched so thin that it is nearly transparent and exposes the tiny little veins beneath. The circulation of blood shades each nipple a dark table-red grape.

A woman’s nipples are the entrance to her sexual core and this whore, his whore, is hungry for him.

With a devilish grin, he flicks her nipples hard, loving the way her body wrenches and spasms from each tiny pinpoint of pain. Her lips tremble as she struggles to remain silent and perfectly still while he flicks and grasps and tugs and pulls and twists each nipple before doing the same to her clit.

Working her into another lust-filled frenzy, and then he stops abruptly.

Walking from the room, he pauses briefly thinking he may have heard her speak. Is she ready to declare that she is nothing without her Master? It certainly is about damn time, the stubborn bitch.

But he is unsure.

Nearly imperceptible, he looms just outside the doorway straining to listen. Is she saying what he has waited so long to hear from her lips?

Thirty-five hours after he walked into her hotel room, she softly utters the phrases he has yearned to hear; her proclamation that she is ready to be his possession, his slut, his whore, his baby girl.

"I am yours Master. You are my reason for breathing. What may I do to bring you pleasure?”

She is unaware if he is even in the room, so distorted is her desire-clouded vision. She repeats it with incredible sincerity, and believe it or not, tears spring to his eyes.

This is a life-defining event for both of them; more than either is fully aware of at this moment in time.

And like a mother giving birth to a child after hours of pain and suffering, bliss clutches at his heart and is nothing like any emotion he has experienced in his life either as a BDSM slave trainer or as a man.

"Master? I am yours. You are my reason for existing. What may I do to bring you pleasure?”

The sweetest words in the universe. At least in his universe.

“Master?”

Humbled by her declaration, he realizes that it is essential to maintain his composure before continuing. Now that her focus is totally on him, his needs, pleasures, and satisfaction, her training and reconditioning can begin.

She has a long road to travel. Some days will be exceptionally painful while other journeys will be impressively humiliating and degrading, yet she will beg to comply, plead for more even as her body attempts to convince her that this is not the natural order of life.

It is for her new life. Her life serving as his personal sex slave.

For her, the transition, once made, will seem as natural as breathing. She will thirst for the taste of semen, crave cock, and willingly do anything to please her Master. Anything.

It is always with the hope that he will, at some point, become so impressed with her that he will allow her an orgasm.

Removing her bindings, he tenderly massages her aching muscles. The nose plug and head phones are no longer needed; the sensory deprivation has accomplished his primary goal.

His cock pulses with anticipation begging him to fuck her right now, but he holds back. Lifting her with amazing tenderness, he carries her into the bathroom and gently lays her in the steamy bath water. Her hair is straggly and damp from perspiration; her body slick and clammy.

Wetting her hair, he lathers an orange-ginger spiced shampoo into the tangles. His fingers massage the rejuvenating spices deeply into her scalp, her head totally supported by him. Warm water cascades down her face and rolls off her large breasts as he rinses the shampoo and then works a deep conditioner into the strands.

Reaching for the soft porous coral sponge, he works the spicy soap into froth and tenderly washes her face. Using small circular motions, he continues until her face is slathered and then moves to her neck, spreading the suds to her throat and shoulders.

Eyes closed and relaxed from the shampoo and facial cleaning, her body goes lax. Lifting each over-ripe melon, he carefully and methodically soaps her breasts, supporting them as the sponge covers each with the suds. Lifting her arm, he navigates the length working his way to her wrist, her palm, and then between each individual finger before drifting up to her arm pit, constantly using tiny circular motions. Urging her forward, he washes her neck and upper back before finishing with her other arm.

Rinsing the sponge, he squeezes small streams of fresh water on her face, chest, and arms until all traces of soapsuds are gone. The steamy water relaxes her, his touch soothes her, and the exotic scent of the soap revitalizes her.

She has absolutely zero thoughts going through her mind. She is a puppet, his puppet, and has totally surrendered to him. For the first time since he arrived, she looks into his eyes, searching to understand what has happened to her. All she feels are physical sensations tempered by an overwhelming desire to suck his cock.

Helping her to stand, he works the fragrant soap into her belly, backside, and down both legs. He separates each toe and runs the sponge between them. Scooping a palm full of soap, he urges her legs apart and presses the foam into her folds with his strong fingers sliding in and out of her cunt, circling her clit, and rimming her anus.

Bending her at the waist with her backside facing him, he probes her rectum with two fingers working the suds inside and coating the walls of her cavity. Her hips sway provocatively, sensually, and press into his invading fingers.

Four fingers squeeze inside her ass and rotate back and forth even as he presses deeper, spreading her sphincter wider. His four knuckles are hidden from view shoved inside her rectum. He pushes harder, her muscles stretching painfully attempting to accommodate his large hand. Pushing with enormous force to completely submerge his fist, he backs off for a moment, jerks his arm out of her body, then rams his cupped fingers back up her ass several times.

She holds onto the tub wall for support, stunned by the painful degrading things he is doing to her ass yet thankful he is touching her. She aches for his touch, a human touch, even though it hurts, even though it is utterly humiliating, she is grateful he has decided to touch her.

He wonders for the second time if he can fit his entire fist in her ass. Of course he can. No question that he can do what he wants with her; but he refrains from a full hard core ass fisting. Now is not the time. Now is for caring for his possession, and cleaning her body in preparation for what is to come.

Behind her on the rim of the bathtub sits a horrible looking dildo suction-cupped to the surface.

“Lick it until it is good and wet, then sit on it. Shove it up your ass. Now.” After the tender way he cleaned her body, she nearly jumps out of her skin when he roared this command.

She bends to pick up the dildo and put it in her mouth when he screams at her. “No leave it there. I want you on your hands and knees and fuck it with your mouth. Stick your ass up high and suck it until I tell you to stop.”

Folding a towel to put under her knees, she complies, anything to please him. “Spread your legs wider apart. Wider. I said wider.”

Her legs are obscenely spread, her mouth is wrapped around the inflatable anal plug. He leans forward and pushes her face onto the dildo until her chin rests on the surface of the tub.

“Shove it to the back of your throat. Fuck it hard. I want to hear you gag.” And as she plunges to the base of the plug, he takes his belt and swings it between her spread thighs, landing direct hits in the middle of her crack, her ass hole, cunt, and clit reeling from the blow.

Shoving his fingers inside her rectum, he lifts her buttocks up higher and kicks her legs farther apart. Swinging long, the leather crashes into her delicate female parts, pushing her forward and shoving the cock down her throat.

“More. I want more Master. Please don’t stop whipping me.” Her cries are muffled and distorted by the butt plug down her throat, but he understands every word she said.

After the plug is buried deep inside her rectum and inflated to its max, he dries her hair, brushing until each strand gleams under the bright lights, and then fastens it into a pony tail on top of her head. He massages exotic oils with millions of gold specs deeply into her flesh; every part of her body is carefully oiled, revitalized, and with a sensuous golden glow.

She is ready to begin her training. And he is ready to put her through hell.

However, first things first. “Prepare and serve my meal.”

The dildo inflated inside her rectum is so wide, she waddles like a duck. Every movement, no matter how small, shifts the plug against the walls of her canal, a constant self-fucking especially when bending over or stooping down. The hand pump and vibrator attached to the butt plug swing between her legs and tug on the plug as well.

As she sets the china on the dinner table, he lunges to her and closes his large hands tightly around her neck. “Bend over the chair. I want your ass.”

Wrenching her head and looks into her eyes. He can see her fear. The lopsided grin on his face does nothing to alleviate her panic, the anticipation of knowing something is going to happen and in all likelihood, will not be pleasant.

The anticipation, the waiting, the wondering, what he is going to do?

He smashes his lips into hers and forces his tongue into her mouth, probing inside then sucking it down his throat with a powerful vacuum force.

His hands squeeze tighter. Panic wells up but she is unsure of what to do. She needs to breathe unobstructed, but cannot with his mouth covering her mouth, his nose smashing into her nose, and his hands constricting her throat.

Releasing and then pushing her head down to the chair, she automatically places her arms flat across the seat; legs spread wide, and head resting face-down over her arms.

Provocatively, her lily white behind performs an exotic “come fuck-me” dance in the soft lighting of the room, butt cheeks clench and unclench, hips sway and gyrate. She straightens her legs and pushes her cunt out to show off the juices that are threatening to escape from her swollen lips. Her sphincter twitches and firmly clutches the plug, desperate to hold it inside her to please him.

She needs her Master to take her, fuck her, do something, anything. Unfortunately, she was forewarned about what will happen and right now, this minute, she is terrified.

This is what he does best; keep her off guard, never allow her to get too comfortable. And providing constant reminders that he owns her, that he can do anything he wants, anytime he wants. He can make her willingly do unspeakable things … simply because he wants it.