Ascent to Submission in Helsinki Ch. 02

I pull the leash on you, and you follow meekly as a young cow led to slaughter. Your hazelnut eyes look at me repeatedly, looking for a hint of what is going to happen, but I remain silent until we enter the washroom, covered by white, porcelain tiles.

Two tall wooden steps are at the center, and in front of them, there is a large vertical mirror, that reflects us. On the left side, above a pair of toilet sinks, other mirrors create a game of cross-referencing images.

Now I tie again your hands on your back, and then I lead you on the steps.

"No..." you whisper, but of course I don't pay attention to your words, just pat your voluptuous ass as you climb the steps and remain, in an unstable equilibrium, your ass, pushed backward toward me, and your face looking at me, awkwardly, through the mirror.

I take a large metal basin, and I place it on the floor, close to the step.

You don't know where to look, you try to turn your head, but this doesn't help you to understand what is going on, maybe you are luckier if you crane forward, trying to change the mirror's perspective.

"It's time you relieve yourself," I say, caressing again your beautiful ass, moving slowly, almost sensuously, the butt plug that is buried within your tender flesh.

"No!" you shout - I can't help feeling that your resistance is so pathetic, after all, you are naked, tied, squatting in an uncomfortable position, your belly full of water. I could force you in any moment, but I like to play with your pride.

"Do you want to keep the water in you forever?" I ask, smiling, my nails pinching lightly your engorged pussy lips. You try, of course without luck, to escape from my grasp -actually just making it more painful.

"Please..." you insist, but this time I can sense that you are ready to surrender.

"I am not going to wait forever, I might leave you here, go out for dinner, and check later if you change your mind..."

Now I can feel your pussy looking for my hand, searching that comfort...now you are ready and tamed, and slowly I pull the butt plug out, that pops as if I am pulling the cork of a champagne bottle. For a moment you gasp, from my position I can look at your face, through the mirror, and at your anus too, which is contracting its muscles now, trying to maintain control.

Then it seems that a miracle happens. You feel in control of your body. The liquid might have been absorbed by it, magically, and you'll be spared any further indignity.

Unfortunately, this hope lasts only for a very short time.

A violent spasm announces that your muscles have relaxed, and a sudden flow of dirty water streams out of your anus, hitting with a chiming sound the metal basin.

Even if the window is opened, the smell is overpowering, and chunks of excrements are carried out.

You lower your head, blushing furiously, but I grab your hair, so that you look straight in the mirror, and your defenseless eyes meet mine.

I look deep into them, and I look at the open gate of your asshole, where the water is flowing, with an unsteady rhythm. Sometimes it's a small trickle, sometimes a fast violent, stream. You move your buttocks without grace, trying to control what is happening, but there is nothing you can do; the urge of expelling had taken over.

The stream stops, and I press with my palm your belly, checking if you truly emptied yourself. More water and shit flow out. You turn and look at me, biting the lower lip.

I caress again your belly, in a gentler way. You moan softly, finally emptied.

You can't deny that there is a pleasant feeling in this cleansing.

First I need to clean your anus with a wet wipe - like the little girl you are - then I attach the leash and I walk you on your four back to the living room.

While you leave the bathroom you peek at the basin, full of your waste and dirty water.

It's like I can read your thoughts in your eyes...I like that you are making me crawl Sir... I'm disgusted about what happened though. ..

...are you ashamed of what you produced? You should be proud...

It is humiliating, Sir, for a girl...

Now I take you to the center of the living room, you kneel in front of a coffee table, your stomach against its surface. You feel a finger circling and greasing your asshole and then there is something at your rear entrance...it's warm, elastic, and hard...you are trembling in excitement...I know you are ready, so I penetrate deeper with my cock...you moan, like the lustful bitch you are.

This is only the start: the cock slides deeper and deeper, and your pleasure too grows deeper and deeper, as if it comes from this feeling of being torn apart. My thrusts slow, looking for friction with your body, aiming to stretch your hole more and more. You are learning, learning to surrender, and to trust, to trust my claim on your body.

You feel the cock so intimately, you feel it slippery, sometimes harder, sometimes softer. Then you feel the stream mounting, through the shaft. In reality, it shouldn't be more than a few seconds, but it seems to last forever, the sensation of the semen crossing the penis, reaching the tip, and then erupting in your ass, warm. Why are you grateful for being used? Why it excites you? You can't say, you can just enjoy it.

I let the flow of my seed extinguish inside you, then I take the phone and I take a picture. I show it to you: I show you the picture of your anus from which a white cream foams. You look at me, biting your lips - unable to say anything.

A drop of fluid trickles on your thigh. I collect it with my finger, and I make you lick it.

"Go and get your panties," I say.

You start moving on your fours to reach for them.

"Take them with your mouth and bring them to me."

"Yes Sir..." You lower your head, and obediently pick with your mouth the panties that you have left on my floor weeks ago.

You bring them back to me like a well-trained dog. I take them and I stuff them in your mouth.

Then I take them back and I order you to wear them.

"Now it's time for you to clean my cock" I say.

As you kneel in front of my semi deflated penis you realize how much you love cock: the hard cock, ready to penetrate your gaping, hungry holes, the small, soft cock, which you like to hold in your hands, like a cute, restless bird, and the cock as it is now, coated by the coitus juices, resting but still tumescent.

You start licking the shaft, cleaning it with devotion, then you move to the red uncovered head, you pay particular attention to the area where the foreskin has retracted, and then finally your return to the pee hole from where small droplets of cum form, like dew, and you lick it and swallow, like the most delicious dessert.

From time to time you look at me, searching for approval, and I recognize your efforts by patting your head.

But the biggest acknowledgment comes from the cock itself, which slowly becomes stiffer and stiffer in your mouth.

Your eyes brighten - it's as much of a smile you can express - and silently you ask permission to suck and make it cum.

With a gesture, I grant it: I push your head toward my crotch so that my penis can penetrate deeper into your throat and claim it.

You start sucking now, with a slurping sound, like the hungry slut you are, with all the skills you know, eager to please me, but also eager to feed yourself with more of my precious produce.

It doesn't take long for me to climax, and discharge your prize in your mouth.

You wonder how you grew addicted to the slightly acidic, unique taste of semen.

You continue to suck it, slowly now, so that can be sure that I give you all there is.

At a certain point, you stop and you simply hold my cock between your lips.

You imagine staying in this position for the longest time, while I make phone calls, or maybe while I am at work, under my desk.

This could be your daily job.

Wouldn't that be complete bliss?

"It's time for you to leave.." I say, patting your ass.

You look at me, like a disappointed cat, and let my cock slip off of your mouth.

I take you to the door, still on your floor. You haven't surrendered to tease me, so you move enticing your tempting ass.

I make you rise, detach the leash, and I make you wear your coat.

With a sudden blush, you realize that the bowl full of your excrements is still in the room.

"Shouldn't I clean..."

"Don't worry - I say - masturbate when you reach home and come back next Saturday."

Pain stays with you for the rest of the week, at home, at work, when you are at the gym when you meet with your friends.

But this pain is like an obsessed lover, who you are afraid to be alone with; because when you are alone, pain becomes a craving for pleasure, which you are forced to satisfy, unless you are ready to fight with it, for every single moment you are by yourself.

So, if you are at the office, your coworkers see you standing suddenly, looking anxious and returning after ten minutes. Some wonders if you are not on drugs.

The truth is that you rush to the toilet, bury your hand inside your body, furiously working toward a conclusion. The nails might scratch your tender skin, but the smell of blood, if any, makes you even more excited.

When you return to your desk, you are afraid that an overpowering smell of sex will betray you...yet you can't help it, and a few hours later you return again to the cubicle, to the frantic movement, to the painful release of tension...

Then Saturday arrives.

You are in your bathroom, razor in hand, ready to follow your instructions. You look at your dark hair, that conceals your sex. You have always found funny the blonde, sparse hair of some of your friends, a truly useless reminder of when we were hairy like monkeys. Their hair doesn't hide anything, they are just a pointer to call attention to the strawberry opening between the legs.

So when you shave, and you are bald, like a little girl, you truly feel a little more exposed and naked.

You decide to wear a white blouse, a tight black skirt, and half-stockings that end a few centimeters before the skirt's hem.

A white stripe of skin shines between the two.

On the bus, as you sit looking absent-minded outside the windows, you notice a young boy in front of you, his eyes fixed on your crotch.

Can he see your pussy from his seat? You don't move, you let him steal the vision of your intimacy. Then he raises his eyes, and when he understands he is being watched, he blushes.

However he can't resist, and soon his eyes return to spy above your thighs.

Unfortunately for him, it's too late: the show is over, your hands are now resting on your womb, making the view of your pussy not accessible anymore.

Now you reach my house, you ring the bell, I open the door, and one of my hand searches below the blouse pinches a hard nipple, the other penetrates your wet pussy, while I kiss you...we haven't said a word, you are still on the apartment's hall, anybody could pass by, but when the switch is on, you don't care about anything, you're just a bitch in heat...

Like a large marlin, harpooned by two of my fingers, buried deep inside your pussy, I bring you into the house.

You breathe deeply, loss in your sea of pleasure, and when I pull my hand out, you almost fall on the floor.

I hold you by an arm, and then I undress you with swift movements, like a little girl unable to take care of yourself until you are naked again.

In the living room, the strange rocking chair is still there.

You look at me, and for the first time, you notice I am wearing a dark blue dressing gown, made of silk, loosely held by a belt.

You can't resist, and your hands slip below it, searching for my cock. You find it, erected, and you hold it, and look at me, with a smile.

Your impudence and lust are charming, but I can't indulge you.

I slap your face hard, and you, like a kid unjustly punished, sulk, massaging lightly your burning cheek.

Yet, you have achieved something, because my penis is now out of my clothes, and I don't seem to care covering it.

You have always thought that there is much beauty in the male sex: the strange complexity that associates the round, soft scrotum to the shaft, which can become hard like a stick, throbbing with energy, crossed by pulsating, thick veins, but also stays soft, almost liquid in the way escapes the hand that tries to hold it.

You could hold and look at a man's penis for hours.

You love to go to the sauna and look, secretly, at strangers ' sex, comparing them, guessing at which point they are in the transition among the two states, wishing you could hold all of them in your mouth, and feel their silky, precious wrapping, and the firm flesh below it, savoring them like an experienced connoisseur.

You have been slapped once, and you don't want to be slapped again, but you can't help kneeling and taking my cock in your mouth.

It was already hard, but now, as you suck it gently, suspended in the moisture of your mouth, it becomes even harder.

Your happy eyes meet mine, and I am forced to smile sweet slut.

But I have no time to indulge you.

I take you to the leather sofa, and I make you squat on it. I tie your arms on your back to its frame, then I tie your thighs with your calves, until you remain unable to move, displayed, your sex, bald and plump, the inner flesh covered by little droplets of fluid. You look at me.

"Please fuck me!"

I slap you. "Helpless slut!"

You lower your head and cry softly, it's not the pain, it's your desperate need of feeling the cock inside you that makes you cry.

Suddenly, while your head is still reclined, you feel that something is opening the way beyond your swollen labia. You smile: it's my cock that enters you and fulfills your wish.

You start breathing heavily, sweating, trying without luck to free yourself from the rope; at the same time this fight makes you more excited - and you can feel, by the way my penis moves inside you, me too.

You cum, quickly, and then it's my time: you feel my breath shortening, and then, as I reach my climax, I swiftly extract my sex and I cum on your face.

You smile, proud, as my semen coats it, blurs your eyes, you nibble it around your mouth, fill it on your cheeks, dribbling from your chin.

"Thank you Sir!" you say, honored by this homage, and open your mouth, as my cock demands to be cleaned.

Now you see me leaving, my cock dangling between the open robe, coated in your own saliva.

You stir, but of course, there's not much freedom left for you, so you settle down and wait for my return.

When I arrive, I hold with my hands what it looks like a squarish, large object that resembles a sculpture made of a single piece of stone.

Why I brought it here?

As I put it on the floor, not far from your legs, you see that there's a hollow, deep space inside it, and incandescent pieces of charcoal burn inside it. It is a strange, hypnotic sight.

You leave again, and now I come back with an iron rod, which I put on top of the coal.

"The time has come," I whisper, and I caress the plump curve of your pubic mound, down, to swollen labia, dripping of your own juice, or maybe just perspiring because of the closeness of the heat and your anxiousness.

"What is it, Sir?" you say, with a high pitch.

"Don't worry...it's what you want..."

I caress your lower body again, this time I am applying a pinkish solution, that tingles lightly, as it is absorbed by your skin.

Now I take the rod. The top is red-hot, at the edge, a grid of wires support four letters, and even if they are written in a mirrored way, you can read what they say: " SLUT".

Now it's all your body that sweat, you beg:" Please don't!"

You would have ways to stop me, not last the famous safeword, but this is not what you want, I can read your eyes, behind a reasonable fear, a thrilled expectation.

Quickly and precisely, the letters are pressed into your skin.

You scream, in pain. The smell of burned flesh rises from your body and then disperses, quicker than expected.

Now the four letters are branded forever on top of your vulva.

I am pleased for a well-done job, the contours around their scarlet and swollen shapes are well-defined.

I take the mirror and show them to you. Even if you are sweating and crying, you can't avoid smiling.

You read the word "slut" marking your body, and you feel wonderfully free, you don't need to hide anymore. You will always know what you are: a submissive, cock-loving slut, and everybody can know it, without even asking.

I untie you, and I let you sit in my lap and rest.

In our respective roles, we have tired ourselves, drained our emotions, and now we feel we need to stay in silence, letting the mind wander and recharge.

You fall asleep in my arms; I let you be, and only much later with a finger I start teasing your pussy lips, half-open.

I continue slowly, trying to let you sleep as long as possible, actually aiming to see you climax in your dream.

With your eyes closed, you part slightly your lips and start moaning softly.

What's happening in your mind? You are smiling, biting the lower lip, breathing more deeply.

Like a thief, stealing away your pleasure, I move as slowly as possible, still, I aim directly to your clit, and I tweak and I encircle it.

I feel that any moment you could open in your eyes, but your orgasm is blending perfectly to the world of your dreams, so perfectly that I move harder, and faster, following the lead of your breath, until you cum, strongly, and then you return to breathe with the relaxed pace of sleep.

Two of my fingers still rest inside you.

Even if I am just staying still, your weight in my lap, I am unable to bring myself to wake you up, beautiful slut.

It is your pussy now, like the little wet mouth of a carp, that sucks and releases my fingers.

Then suddenly you wake up, startled, unsure of what happened, of where you are.

You look at my fingers and smile, the languor in your body tells you that what happened in your dreams is real.

I invite you to stand and dress up.

"This is the last time we meet," I say.

You look at me, shocked.

"It can't be!" you protest.

I take your chin with my fingers, and I kiss your lips.

"Everything has to end, and it is better that ends on a high note, beautiful slut..."

One of my fingers follows the swollen brand above your clit.

"You'll always have a memory of our meetings..."

"And I will cherish it..." you reply, your eyes looking at the floor, trying to hide the tears.

You realize the time has come, that we can't go any further.

You search my last embrace, and I squeeze your body.

The door of my apartment closes behind you and you start walking down the stairs.

At a certain point, you notice a young Asian woman coming in your way. She has long, thick hair, almost wavy, and her body is enclosed in a beige trench-coat.

A fit of jealousy rises in you, you imagine your hands on her slender, long neck...it's just a fantasy. When the two of you cross way in the mezzanine, you let her go ahead, and then just stop beyond the corner, half-hidden, but still able to check my door.

As you suspect, the girl rings my bell, but not before having dropped her coat.

Below, of course, she is completely naked. You expect her body, with a woman's malice, looking for imperfections. She has small tits - you softly laugh; but then you notice her flawless skin, and, surprisingly, her round, lovely ass.

She turns slowly toward the door, bent slightly, and spread it with both hands.

In the space of a moment, you guess what is happening and see it happening.

My hard cock appears and penetrates the offered anus.

The girl gasps softly, and her eyes suddenly turn on you, like she knew all the time that you were there spying, and smiles.r"

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