WHO'S THE MASTER

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Part 2: Hot Submission

Sam finds himself at Amalea's mercy. This is Sam's POV...


I shiver in the thrill. The excitement boiling in my veins causes the groans to lift from my lips without my control. With each hit, Amalea strips the control I have crafted so well. My pecker is rewarded with the small crop slapping it. The pain is a blossom of pleasure that forces more groans from me.

Amalea marvels how it swells and stands out by the sexy smirk on her face and delight in her fiery hazel eyes. “You like that don’t you, you fucker?”

When I do not answer because I’m panting now after the assault she’s made on my throbbing cock, I stare down at her. She raises the crop to the reddening bit of veiny flesh. I see the intent just in time and find my voice.

“Yes! Yes!” I grit out before the swish of her strike magically turns into a stroke with the crop along my trembling thighs and then my pulsing dick oozing with pre-cum.

“Tell me how much you like it,” she purrs in my other ear.

With the lift of the end of my shirt, Amalea uses the crop on my ass one strike after the other alternating butt cheeks. I flinch each time her weapon of pleasure meets my tender flesh and try to shy away, but there’s no point. I must take this delectable abuse. Nowhere for me to go still chained up like this.

“I can’t hear you,” Amalea taunts in a sing-song voice.

The crop finds the curve of my ass. This time she does not tease the crop to sting playfully or soothe with any rubbing. No. My assistant is not satisfied until my pale white cheeks, in contrast, turn a bright apple shade from all the assaults she’s landed on it today.

When Amalea pauses, I’m quivering while gripping the chain forcing my wrists above my head to strain. I rise on my tiptoes but lower back with a heavy sigh. Harsh breathing sounds from her and me.

Her grin spreads as she reviews her work on my ass and cock before she walks away slowly again. I know this cannot be good for me. Amalea’s hand caresses the sex tools at her disposal hanging in perfect display. She replaces the small crop on its hook forgotten as she reviews more of my toys.

Losing sight of Amalea for a second, I lean a sweaty head against my arm still trying to settle my breathing to normal. I gasp when I feel my assistant’s nails scraping against my sensitive cock. My green eyes meet her light chocolate ones full of some devilish intent. Her fist grips my bruised root.

“I can’t hear you,” Amalea repeats with her mouth pressed into a displeased line.

My head tilts back as I breathe with the pain and pleasure of her acts against me that make me only want to return the favor. When I can’t take any more of her squeezing a fist on my cock, I shout, “Fuck! Okay!”

Tighter is her squeeze somehow. “Okay, what?”

“Yes! Yes! I fuckin’ love this!”

“I don’t like sarcasm, Sam,” she hisses close to my ear and squeezes my meat like her hand has transformed into the most robust vise in the world.

“I’m-muh-muh s-sorry,” I apologize in a hiss of my own. Amalea’s hand moves to gripping my balls to some comfort as she tugs down on them. The relief on my cock is a sweet pleasure since her massage of my balls is far less intense.

“You bet your ass you’re a sorry excuse for a slave, but you will learn.” With kite string, she ties a noose on the end and tightens it around the head of my cock.

“Fuck!” I cry, but somehow I am more turned on than ever when she tugs on the string. Amalea pulls on it giving it a shake or two. She even leads me by it as far as I can move on the chain.

Pinching my nipple hard as she leans close, she corrects, “No. The proper response is ‘Yes, Master.’”

When I hesitate to do as she instructs, my assistant pinches and tugs on the end of the string tied to my cock. I groan at the simultaneous sensations. Pain and pleasure make me harder for her. The look of delightful lust she offers me certainly does me in as well.

“Yes, Master,” I obey and pant when she unties my cock and uses the slip noose carefully around my balls.

With my cock free again, Amalea does not enact anymore mischief against it as I flinch at her touch of it. She rewards me with a jerk that is heaven in her soft hand she spits into. Moaning I leak pre-cum which assists her in constant dribbles that lube her hand faster and faster with each beautiful pass along my swelled shaft from base to tip.

“And whose cock is this?” she whispers.

I expel short little breaths from my chest. I find it hard to voice anything or remember the question. There was a question wasn’t there?

Whomp! is the sound that echoes around us when a paddle that covers the circumference of my ass hits me with such force that my knees buckle before I can cum at her hand. I basked on the edge of it, and the two sensations of nearly coming and the surprising pain on my ass have me trembling.

I shout in my anger, “Awww, fuuucccck!”

“How quickly we forget who is in charge here.” She tugs on the string tightening around my balls. “I won’t be ignored, slave. Answer me when I fucking ask you a question!”

Amalea is ignorant of my feelings as she paddles me again to each cheek not as hard as the first. I cannot escape it, yet am forced to endure the sweet punishment. By the time she takes a break though with the last strike covering my entire ass, my legs are jelly.

“Yes, Master,” I pant barely audible.

“Go lay on there. I can see we have more lessons for you to learn before you become a proper slave,” Amalea orders as she points to the table where the chain is looped.

My assistant gives me enough slack that I can climb on the table. She gestures for me to lay on my back where I hiss but don’t dare whine because I see the downturn of her mouth already. The table is padded at least and comfortable. On each side of it, Amalea straps down my ankles. She releases me from my handcuffs and chain to remove my sweat-drenched shirt. Afterward, she urges me to lay back so she can strap each of my wrists into the leather cuffs attached to each side of the table like my ankles. At least the ache developing in my shoulders reduces since I’m spread-eagled.

Once again though, I am at her mercy. While having the tables turned on me, I cannot say that I am the least bit displeased with the experience so far. The minor break gives me the chance to recover from the previous fervent scene. In fact, I find myself eager to comply with her instructions.

I hunger for more in the way I do any new excitement discovered. Amalea takes my breath away with the gratifying pain and heated pleasure she deals me so far with an iron will that captivates me. Enchanted by the allure of the sexy dominant before me worthy of the control she wields over me, I cannot wait to find out what more she seeks to do to me. I hope I can hold on without my heart giving out!

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