WHO'S THE MASTER

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Part 1: Hot Submission

Sam has the tables turned on him. This is Sam’s POV...


Amalea plucks my keys from the slacks I wear. She yanks the chain attached to the handcuffs at my wrists up through the steel loop fixed on the ceiling by stepping on a ladder she finds near the center table. Unlocking the padlock securing the chain together, she feeds the excess chain through more loops on the table that suit her needs. My assistant locks the chain back together again after ensuring that my slack is reduced significantly. It shortens my mobility.

Amalea’s awing to watch in her professional attire and dark hair pinned up. While I may have been seeking to shock her with my adult playroom, I am truly the one astonished here. Perhaps I do not know this slender woman as well as I think?

To say that I am stunned is to state the obvious. Amalea Neubalm does not seem unsure of her actions with me right now as if she is the one to plan it all. A bead of sweat materializes at my forehead, yet soon others join. My heart races in a kind of excitement at the unknown.

What transpires isn’t how I imagine this scene playing out. My role in life always has been well-defined. I am the dominant. In work and in play, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, being dominant, in control is how I order things in my world. My best friend Sterling is much the same way. It’s why we get along so well.

I wonder how in the hell I’ve so grossly underestimated Amalea though. Nothing that I learn from her background check yields the information she reveals to me just now of a seedy side to her life back on the east coast of America. Fuck! She knows how to pick locks? What are the odds?

“Okay.” I swallow and chuckle uneasily. “Okay, really, Amalea. Joke’s over. You can unlock these cuffs now.”

The air around us is even more charged than before as she tugs on my chains raising my wrists above my head. My anger has been stolen by bewilderment and uncertainty of what comes next. I enter an uncharted area, leaving me at a complete loss. Nothing like this occurs before.

“Joke? You think this is a joke?” Amalea asks with narrowed eyes and clenches her jaw as she stands before me.

“W-what’re you doing?” I question while she bends to remove my shoes, socks, belt, pants, and underwear. Amalea leaves me in my dress shirt only and then stands back and examines me standing helpless before her naked as the day I was born from the waist down.

“Do you intend to answer me?” I question nervously.

That snide smirk I hate surfaces on her face as she rubs her chin. Her light brown eyes are unreadable. Her voice though has changed to something very seductive, and I swallow in a dry throat. That cannot be good.

“Oh, no. You tell me, Sam.” She gestures toward me in a wave of her hands. “Is this what you had in mind? Helpless in chains with your tiny cock out?”

I flinch at the mention of my cock being small. Now that’s downright hurtful. I stare down at it already swelling with blood and pointing out long and proud beyond my dress shirt. I watch her eyes examining me with my arms above my head, but before I can gather any emotion on her face, Amalea turns from me to my further astonishment.

No words come from my mouth as my assistant peruses my playroom wares. Her hands are behind her back as she strolls through the collection often pausing and leaning in to give closer scrutiny of the sex toys I have amassed over many years. I lick my lips because no one has had the privilege to see them. Amalea is the first and if I have my way, she will be the last.

Her hands reach and gently caress the cat-o'-nine-tails like a lover. My assistant runs her dark nails over and through the leather cords. I cringe and sigh in relief when she moves on, but it gets worse. She picks up a bullwhip, tosses it over her head and cracks it down on the floor. When she repeats the action, I shudder at her skill of its use and why that would be. Genuine fear creeps over me with more beads of sweat because Amalea stares at me and then the braided leather like she intends to use that thing on me!

My eyes widen the closer she draws to me with intent darkening her eyes. I hold my breath. At the last moment when she looks to crack the bullwhip she drags beside her, Amalea turns away. In relief, loudly I exhale while watching her recoil the toy and put it back on display.

Amalea continues surveying my items with a kind of glee and stops at the riding crops. My heart races anew as I watch her investigate the largest of these. She bends it, snaps it in the air, but then replaces it. I exhale in relief. Amalea picks up another crop and replaces it not satisfied, I guess from her frowning expression. When she settles on the one she’s looking for, a wicked smile surfaces on those lips I want to kiss. She walks once more over to where I stand. The edge of my dress shirt lifts in the back.

In stunned silence, I glimpse over my shoulder as if in slow motion the act of my assistant raising the crop in her hand and then flings a shot at my bare ass. I flinch in the sting I feel balloon in the area of the strike and hiss. My eyes widen upon her stunned that she dares strike me.

“I know I asked you something, yet no response do I hear from you.” Shaking her head, Amalea slaps the crop in her own small palm. “You gotta know that’s plenty rude and in need of correction, right?”

She flings the zinger of the little crop once more. It buzzes through the air like a fly until it stops. A gentle sting strikes my ass again on the other cheek where I flinch and hiss. Another blow follows soon after the last. Buzzing sounds in the air, but it hits my helpless shaft poking out of me.

“Owww! Shit! That hurts!” I whine in surprise more than pain.

Amalea swings again gently. And again roughly. Now it’s not such a shock the blood rushing and thickening my cock. I jump and yelp regardless of the degree of strength employed. She laughs at me trying to turn away from her sweet assault. There’s no place to go since she’s reduced the slack in the chain by looping it to the ceiling and table.

“‘Fuckin’ you is exactly what’s on my mind,’” Amalea quotes from what I say to her earlier while grabbing my ear and tugging it down to her hot mouth.

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