The kinksters in town are hosting a masked party, and although it’s really not something you want to do, it’s something I’ve been dying to go to. I’ve been doing so well with our lessons, and I’ve been such a patient and obedient little slave that you’ve decided to oblige and take me.
The night of the party, you run a bath for me. Scented bath oils and bubbles fill the tub and cover my body as I obediently make room for you. Already saturated with desire, I immediately start to slide my way onto your lap. You laughingly indulge as I wrap my arms around your shoulders, running the tip of my nose ever so softly up the side of your neck to your ear. I nip, lick, and suck on your ear lobe as your hands make their way to my hips, pulling me over your cock that’s just starting to nudge the inside of my thigh. You hold me there, poised just over you as I start to twitch my hips.. aching to be filled by you. You flex those strong fingers of yours, digging into me, grinding into my bones. “Ah, ah, little one. I haven’t given you permission to enjoy me yet, have I?” I bow my head in shame, resting it on your shoulder. I do know better. Something just takes over me when I’m close to you… every bit of my body melts into yours, every reflex of mine is rooted in pleasuring you. I always forget your lessons when I’m wrapped around you.
Anyways, you sense my admission of guilt and accompanying shame. Giving a light chuckle, you thrust me down onto you, sliding effortlessly in, piercing me to the core. You’re feeling rather magnanimous, so you go ahead and allow me to control the friction between us after that initial thrust. Watching me cum a couple times, you decide to take your turn. Once again your fingers pierce my hip bones while you pull me up and down on you, water and bubbles sloshing over the side of the tub. You bite down hard on the soft part of the outside of my breast, and as you fill me with your cum, I bend into it… relishing the sweet with the spice.
My hair done, my make-up done, and I sit poised on your bed, waiting for you to reveal my outfit. You open up the clothing box, watching my face carefully. In the box is a beautiful black domino mask. Simple, plain, but effective. Under the mask is a gorgeous set of lingerie. I brush my fingers over the crushed black velvet bra and panties, soft and decadent. Finally, there is a dark black cloak. More crushed velvet, but lined with a subtle, shimmery material. Confusion takes over my expression as I struggle to believe you would take me out in public wearing underwear and a cloak. “Oh, there’s one more piece,” you say, very casually. From the inside of your jacket, you pull out what looks like a long, thin rope. A collar with a leash. The blood in my body rushes and I feel a little light-headed as I try to brace myself for the night ahead.
As you latch the collar around my throat, just tight enough to make it hard to breathe when I gasp, every thought in my head shuts totally off. All I feel is the tangible connection between the two of us as you wind the end of the leash around your fingers, pulling it taunt before you yank it towards you. I try to gasp, but the collar makes it difficult. I stumble towards you, senseless and stricken with lust, and your chuckle is much more a growl than a laugh. As I land against you, you grab my face in a pinch with one hand and you run a thumb over my lips, smearing the lipstick I took ages applying perfectly. Your other hand, the hand with the leash wrapped around it, moves quickly to my sopping wet pussy, and the tension on the leash cuts my air supply even shorter. Barely panting, I sway on my feet before you, caught between your hands on either point of my body. You abruptly release me, and I collapse in front of you. “C’mon little girl,” you sneer, “you just had to go to this thing. If you’ve changed your mind now, there will be hell to pay…” I barely gasp out my no sirs before you’re yanking me back onto my feet beside you.
We arrive at the party, and you nod your hellos. I am rendered utterly senseless, only able to focus my thoughts on your end of the leash. Each little twitch, each little tug sends shivers of anticipation down my spine and straight to my clit. I can’t quite keep my feet under me, so I seem to be perpetually stumbling after you. You stop to strike up conversation with someone, and I stay, seemingly forgotten, behind you. As I begin to catch my breath, a man approaches me. He’s admiring the cloak, and he begins to run his fingers down the hemline, starting at my collar bone. Unable to formulate much thought, I just stand dumbly and let him. His proximity catches your attention, and you turn to see him looking at me in a way you very much do not like. You pull me towards you with a sharp yank of the leash, lifting a hand up and smacking me clear across the face. “You slut!” you shout, as I collapse at your feet. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you throwing yourself at another man!” I try to apologize, and the guy who had caused the problems starts to apologize, but you’ve already determined that coming here was a mistake. “Get up, we’re leaving” you snarl at me.
Once we get back to your house, you drag me up the stairs by my hair. I never quite get my feet under me, so I’m actually just getting dragged. Your anger has my heart and clit pulsing.. all I want is to soothe you, to give you a sounding board for the rage that consumes you. You get me to your room and immediately strike me down with the back of your open palm against my face. Pulling me back up to my knees, you strike me down again. I’m crying as you lift me again. You rip the cloak off of me and bend me over your bed. You pull out one of your paddles and yank my panties to my knees. You swat my ass until it is nearly purple and I am openly sobbing. Begging your forgiveness, you pin me with your hips to the edge of the bed, while getting a fist-full of my hair and pulling my head as close to you as it gets, until my spine is shaped like a perfect “C.” “How could you let another man touch you!” you spit at me. “You stupid, senseless animal!” Unable to make any coherent sentences, I simply continue to cry. “You are MINE!” you shout at me while you yank my hands behind my back, tying them tightly together.
Moments later, you have my ankles bound, too, and a bit in my mouth. You’ve tied the end of my leash to my ankles, so that if I wiggle too much, I choke myself. You have your e-wand out and you’re applying it to the soft skin just under my rib cage, right inside my inner thigh, below my bottom. You hold it there, watching me convulse and sputter for air, releasing me long enough to catch my breath before you do it again. You roll me over to my back, pinning my arms underneath me and butterfly out my knees. You fuck me relentlessly, one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hip, steadily taking all that is yours. Every thrust is met with my involuntary flex towards you, every pull back I try to follow you, but the leash and my ankles pull my throat tight. Watching me struggle, you begin to pull out further and for longer until you’re pulling entirely out for seconds that last an eternity before slamming yourself back in. Each time you leave me, I whimper and whine for your return. I beg for you to stay inside of me, beg for you to fill me with your cum, hardly intelligible with the bit in my mouth. You stop altogether. You haven’t finished yet, but you’ve had an idea. You go and get something out of a drawer along with a lighter. I can’t quite see what you have as my eyes are puffy from the tears, but I see you holding a flame to it for a long time. After what feels like hours, you quickly head over to me and press blinding hot metal into the skin where my leg meets my pussy. I smell burning and can hear a faint sizzle. “You’ll never again forget whose property you are” you grumble as you remove the item and grab my ass in a sharp motion, once again filling my soaked and swollen pussy. You pound away at me until you cum, heedless of my cries.
Afterwards, you fling a dull pocketknife at me and tell me to get myself lose. You go straight to bed and I stay up working at the ropes until the sun is almost up. Once free, I make my weary way to the bathroom, where I slouch on the lip of the tub. I prop the scalded leg up and see a very red, very puffy brand on my inner thigh of your name, about the size of a half dollar.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/avszhr/en_masque