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BDSM Domination

Callan’s Command

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Master Callan
Master Callan loves bondage and all forms of taboo sex play. He has several steady clients that pay to be dominated and satisfied but he recently married his favorite client, Sasha.
Sasha
A 34-year-old stripper, Sasha loves yoga, pilates, and bondage. She plays submissive to Master Callan and recently moved into his multi-million dollar home.

Master Callan fastens his grip around my wrist and I could feel his strength bruising my porcelain skin beneath his hold. I sluggishly pry at his clutch, grunting and pulling away from him. The motion causes him to look back, huffing out a roguish laugh at my pathetic attempts. ...Read more

I grab her wrist hard enough to leave a bruise on her beautiful porcelain skin. She tries to pull away, but I’m much stronger. I look back at her, a roguish laugh escaping my lips. If she was going to disobey, there would be consequences. She’d known that from the very beginning.

...Read more

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BDSM Domination

Callan’s Command

Master Callan fastens his grip around my wrist and I could feel his strength bruising my porcelain skin beneath his hold. I sluggishly pry at his clutch, grunting and pulling away from him. The motion causes him to look back, huffing out a roguish laugh at my pathetic attempts.

“Don’t tell me you’re really trying to get out of this one, cub.” he raises an arched brow, glaring down at me with angst.

“You know the rules,” he continues, dragging me behind him as he marches down the hallway.

 

“If you misbehave, you get punished. And you know how much your master loves to punish you.” He turns back to wink at me and I could feel my cheeks burn, secretly revelling in this moment. 

 

“But, I didn’t mean to leave such a big mess in the kitchen,” I lie, “ I thought I would have time to clean it up before you got home.”

Master Callan ignores my argument, steadily pounding toward the end of the hallway as the thick silence of his anger probes at the ache building between my thighs. He stops just outside of the steel door I had been waiting for us to enter through all day, grips onto the handle and flings it open, throwing my dainty body passed him and into the dark room. I stumble over my own feet and it takes a moment for my sights to adjust to the dimly lit space. Once I find my balance, I swivel around to be met with the sudden closeness of his chiselled features mere breaths from my face as he fastens his giant hands around my arms to keep me in place.

His piercing, green eyes stared intensely into mine, before flitting to my lips that quivered from his intimidating proximity. When he leans in, I smell the subtle mint on his breath and don’t dare to move until I had his permission. Just as his soft lips brush gently against mine, I attempt to fall into a kiss. 

 

“Tsk, tsk,” he teases, pulling back from me. “Did I say you could kiss me?” 

 

His words filled the room as more of a threat, than a question. I shake my head, trembling in his clutch. He lets go of my arms to reach down to the hem of my short dress, shaking his head mockingly at me as a deep, sinful smirk stretches over his features.

“No, Master Callan.” I quiver. 

 

“No.” he mimics and with a swift tug, he hinges my dress over my shoulders, baring my naked body to be seen in all angles he chose. 

He fists the thin fabric in his hands, devouring me from my head, to my toes with his hungry gaze, before tossing it to the ground. He breathes in deeply, inhaling my scent and the mere sight of my nudity and I revel in his undivided attention. He lifts his hand to mine, lacing his fingers gently through my fingertips as we lock eyes with fiery intentions. Within the heavy silence, it was as if we had read each others thoughts- desires- and I follow sheepishly as he leads me to my favourite station. 

 

The whipping bench awaits for my trembling limbs to bow over its edges, my very own bridle sitting atop the dark leather. Master Callan fidgets with the gag in one hand, waving over the bench with the other as I lean onto my knees, gripping the ends with shuddering fingertips. As I look forward, waiting for his next command, shivers of excitement roll down my spine at the soft touch of his warm palm smoothing up my backside, my spine and snaking around the back of my neck.

“Open up, little cub.” He whispers, leaning over me with a cool focus.

 

I swallow the saliva that dared drool from my mouth before parting my lips, eager for the comforting gnaw of my bridle. He pulls the familiar harness over my cheeks, buckling it tightly behind my head as I bite into the leather and it takes all of my strength not to moan at the mere reminder of what comes after this step. Arousal pulses between my thighs. I take a deep breath and my eyes flutter shut as I listen for his footsteps on the wooden floor. I listen to him walk to the whipping station and I hear hooks rattle as he takes his time to choose the perfect toy. He lets out a subtle huff and I know he’s chosen well. 

He stalks back to my quaking body, unmoved, a flustering mess, impatient for his touch. My grip on the edge of the bench tightens.

 

When he comes to a stop beside me, I flinch at the sudden cold, leather paddle smoothing over my backside as Master Callan caresses my round curves, preparing me for my punishments. A pool of need rapidly builds inside me. He pulls back, achingly slow, torturing me with the exhilarating inevitable.

“Are you ready for your punishment, little cub?” He growls and I nod without hesitation, clawing at the bench sides with anticipation. I hold my breath, feeling the intense air shift around me. 

 

He releases an forgiving swing, thwacking the hard paddle against my tender cheeks. I jump and groan into my bridle, biting down at the sudden impact. My skin burns beneath the contact and I revel in every single moment. He pulls back, inhaling deeply as the feeling of ownership settles over him, his greedy eyes splurging over the deep, pink mark staining my skin. He growls deeply and with another harsh blow, spanks my sensitive skin over again. A muffled scream crawls from my throat as I bite hard into the leather and let my eyes roll to the back of my head in euphoria.

“Yes,” he snarls, “Such a naughty, little slut, aren’t you?” 

I nod and hum around the harness, pleading that of course, I am. 

He smacks me again, and again and the dull heat from the paddle burns onto my delicate backside, imprinting his possession over me as he roars into the air with each strike. He throws the paddle to the ground and reaches a cupped hand between my thighs. 

 

“This is mine.” He demands, shaking me with a forceful tug. I whimper at his force. 

 

He slips two long, thick fingers between my folds, a croaked groan escaping me as he sleeks his fingertips over my dripping nectar, the notion too much even for him. 

 

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, pushing his fingers inside my pulsing sex with an agonising patience. I groan in misery, needing a release from my torturous arousal. 

 

Master Callan begins pushing his strong fingers in and out me and I moan and squirm beneath his touch. My legs tremble uncontrollably. My knuckles whitening as I use every bone in my body to stay still. I hear him fidget with his buckle, unzipping his trousers and letting them fall onto his ankles and I quake at the promise of his throbbing cock. He pulls his fingers from my sex, replace the excruciating emptiness instantaneously with his thick, warm shaft. The sudden fullness of his thrust forced an echoing scream to erupt from within me. I moan loudly, gripping onto the whipping bench in fears that if I let go, I would melt away entirely. He was overwhelming, his mere girth enough to make me want to come around him. 

 

He bellows out an intense moan, sliding his pulsing length in and out of my wet entrance with ease. My back arches as he pulls on my bridle harness and the feeling of being utterly trapped in his hold was an indescribable pleasure I would never forget. I moaned and bounced against his hard cock, thriving on the feeling of his veiny shaft using me as hard as he wanted. He pounds his hips against my backside over and over, grunting with each forceful thrust. The harness pulls on my cheeks and mouth as he grips it tighter, pulling me as far back as my body would allow. The new angle pushes his thick member deeper inside me, enveloping with utter euphoria. 

 

Incoherent noises escape my throat as the world falls away around me, leaving only his overwhelming ferocity taking me as he pleased. I feel every limb in my body stiffen and melt at the same time. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I come; harder than I ever had. My climax ripples through me with a torturous, gorgeous pull, warm juices oozing over his incredible shaft. 

 

He wails at the commotion, roaring lustful huffs into the air as he thrusts through my release. He pulls out, ripping me from the bench and forcing my knees to crash onto the hard ground. Tugging on my harness, he whips my body around to face him, every nerve within me still pulsating from the delicious climax. He stares down at me, stroking his huge cock in his free hand with rapid tugs. Goosebumps prickle over me, watching the way he sneered down at his corrupted, come-drunk toy. I wrap my trembling hands over calves, both bowing and begging him to come all over me as I stare up at him. Finally, Master Callan’s head falls back and as he lets out a drawn out sigh, his warm, salted release spirts over my delicate features in small bursts. His thick load falls onto my face and I let out a small whimper, indulging every part of this. I lick around my bridle, yearning for his taste. 


He looks down at me once more as we slow our panting breaths and as we stare deeply into each others gaze, the air in the room shifts to something so much more than lust. I shiver in the sudden coldness, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in his warmth. His legs buckle and he slowly kneels to the floor in-front of me, never breaking from my sights. His feature soften with his proximity and he cups my soft cheeks with his large, enveloping palms. 

 

“You’re perfect to me in every way, little cub.” He whispers.

I smile sheepishly, letting my forehead fall to his. We stay like this as a comfortable silence grows over us, savouring the moment like nothing else in the world had mattered. 

 

 

I grab her wrist hard enough to leave a bruise on her beautiful porcelain skin. She tries to pull away, but I’m much stronger. I look back at her, a roguish laugh escaping my lips. If she was going to disobey, there would be consequences. She’d known that from the very beginning.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re really trying to get out of this one, cub,” I say, arching my brow. “You know the rules.” 

 

I continue to drag her behind me, marching down the hallway. “If you misbehave, you get punished. And you know how much your master loves to punish you.”

 

I turn around and wink at her, letting her know that this was all a game, one that I knew she enjoyed. Her cheeks blushed, and I wondered whether I could get that color on her ass today as well.

 

“But, I didn’t mean to leave such a big mess in the kitchen,” she squeaks. “I thought I would have time to clean it up before you got home.”

 

I can always tell when she’s lying, when she misbehaves simply to feel the sting of my whip or paddle. Today was no different.

 

I decide to ignore her. We continue to pound towards the end of the hallway, anger beginning to build in my stomach along with lust. I stop just outside of the steel door, my favorite place in the house. I knew it was hers as well.

 

Flinging the door open, I throw her dainty body past me into the darkness. She stumbles over her own feet as her eyes adjust to the dimly lit space. I move closer, and when she turns around, we’re only breaths away from each other. I grab her arms in my hands to keep her in place.

 

My eyes meet hers, a light blue color that always reminded me of sea glass. I can see the waves inside them, waiting for me, waiting for the exquisite rush of pain. My eyes move to her lips, which were quivering due to my proximity.

 

She wouldn’t move until she had my permission. If she did, she’d face double the punishment. My lips brush against hers, and she immediately starts kissing me back, her tongue creeping into my mouth.

 

“Tsk, tsk,” I tease, pulling away swiftly. “Did I say you could kiss me?”

 

It sounds like a threat coming out of my mouth. Good. She shakes her head, still trembling, and I reach for the hem of her short dress. I shake my head, mocking her, a deep, sinful smirk stretching across my lips.

 

“No, Master Callan,” she quivers.

 

“No,” I mimic. I want all of her, and I know it’s mine to take. I pull her dress over her shoulders, her body naked, her porcelain skin practically glowing in the dim light.

 

I ball up the thin fabric in my hands, taking in her body from head to toe. I know I must look hungry, like a feral wolf stalking its prey. That was about accurate. I toss her beautiful dress on the ground. She wouldn’t be needing that.

 

I inhale her impeccable scent, all of my attention on her. Lifting a hand to hers, I lace my fingers gently through her fingertips. We lock eyes, both of our fiery intentions clear to the other. It was almost like I could read her desires on her features. She wanted this almost as much as I did, and who was I not to give it to her?

 

I take a moment to decide where I want her before leading her to the whipping bench. She trembles as she bows over its edges. Her bridle is already sitting on the dark leather. I pick it up and fidget with it in one hand, waving over the bench with the other as she leans on her knees. She’s so stunning here, waiting for my command, completely subservient. It had taken a long time to train her this way, but my handiwork was fantastic.

 

My palm smooths up her backside. “Open up, little cub,” I whisper, leaning over her with a cool focus. It was now my duty to get both of us off, to bring her to her breaking point but never past it, to fuck her and beat her until she couldn’t breathe.

 

I place the harness over her cheeks, buckling it tightly behind her head. She bites into the leather, and I can tell that she’s eager to feel that sting on her skin. It only makes me fasten the bridle slower. She needed to learn patience.

 

I walk over to the whipping station, trying to decide on the best toy for the evening. I grab the whip, then the flogger, before finally settling on our favorite leather paddle. It turns me on that she won’t know what I’ve grabbed until I touch her with it.

 

As I stop beside her, I stroke the cold paddle over her ass. I caress her, preparing her for her punishment. When I feel like she can’t take waiting any longer, I pull my arm back slowly, torturing her just a bit more.

 

“Are you ready for your punishment, little cub?” I growl, and she nods emphatically, clawing at the bench with anticipation. 

 

I pull my arm back again and smack her ass with the paddle. She jumps high into the air, and I almost let out a laugh. I can see that her skin has already turned the same bright red as her cheeks had earlier, and I wanted more. Again, I slap her with the paddle. It reminds me that I truly own her, that she is mine to do with as I please. I would never truly hurt her…but she doesn’t have to know that.

 

As I hit her with a particularly hard blow, she screams and bites down hard on the leather of the bridle. I let out a low groan.

 

“Yes,” I snarl. “Such a naughty little slut, aren’t you?”

 

She nods, her words inaudible through the gag in her mouth. I know that she’s affirming what I’ve said. She’s my little slut, and I loved hearing the sexual noises she makes as I bruise her skin.

 

I continue to smack her, again and again, possessing her, punishing her. But soon, I crave her too much. I want her to feel my thick, fat cock inside her. I throw the paddle down on the ground and reach a cupped hand between her thighs.

 

“This is mine,” I demand, shaking her forcefully with my hold on her sex. She whimpers, such a euphoric sound. I slip two fingers into her pussy, watching her squirm and writhe against my touch.

 

“Oh, fuck,” I moan, letting my fingers remain inside her but not giving her the reward she was wanting so much. She groans miserably, and I give in.

 

I begin to fuck her with my fingers, pumping in and out of her with fervor. The sound of her wetness entrances me, begging for my cock. She knows she’s supposed to stay still during this part of the evening, let me use her as my plaything, but I know she can hardly resist falling against me.

 

My length throbs in my pants so I unbuckle my leather belt, unzipping my trousers with purpose. I let them fall to my ankles; I had no need for them now. I pull my fingers out from her sex, instantaneously replacing them with my huge cock. She lets out an echoing scream, moaning loudly as she grips the bench, trying to remain upright.

 

I pump in and out of her, her pussy so tight and wet. I bellow an intense moan, continuing to fuck her as hard as I could. I want her to feel pain along with her intense pleasure, so I pull on the bridle’s harness, force her back to arch against my thrusts.

 

I allow her to bounce up and down on my knob as I pound her from behind over and over again. Gripping the harness even tighter allows her to take in my full length, my thick member throbbing against her taught walls.

 

She’s making incoherent noises as she gets close to completion, and I continue to penetrate her ferociously, spearing her with my erection. I love how much she likes to take my veiny member.

 

Her body stiffens, and I know she’s about to come. Normally, I might not let her, wanting to leave her begging. But she’d been such a good girl during our session that I figured that she deserved it. 

 

Her warm juices ooze over my shaft, coming buckets all over the leather. I want to make a mess, unleash our carnal nature. I wail as her walls quake around me, continuing to thrust through her release.

 

Once I’m sure she’s done, I pull out of her, ripping her from the bench. I know exactly what I want to do with her. I force her knees to the hard ground, hoping there would be bruises there tomorrow that I could kiss. I force her to face me by tugging on the harness.

 

I look down at the pathetic sight of her, absolutely humiliated and used, still at my disposal. It makes me start to stroke my massive cock rapidly, seeing the hunger in her eyes as I did. I sneered at her, knowing how corrupted she is, knowing how defiled. And it was all my doing. That made it even sweeter.

 

She wraps her trembling hands around my calves. She stares up at me, begging for my load, wanting to bathe in it. I can’t deprive her.

 

My head falls back as I release, but I quickly look back up so I can see her face getting drenched with my cum. Some of the seed goes into her open mouth, but the rest hits her hair, her chin, her cheeks. She licks around her bridle, trying to taste me.

 

She looks utterly used, a puppet for my own desire. We both pant, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, both lust and something deeper pumping through our veins. I want to keep her safe, to comfort her, to wrap her up in my arms.

 

I kneel on the floor in front of her, our eye contact still deep. “You’re perfect to me in every way, little cub,” I whisper.

 

She smiles sheepishly, letting her forehead fall against mine. I could sit here forever in this comfortable silence, relishing this immaculate being and the way she had let me use her body for all of my wicked fantasies.

 

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