Thread: The Breaking of a Sword (Vixen_Mistress the fifth Master)

Her touch was gentle. It was in complete contrast to what pain she rained down on him. The way she moved to each strike. Each sound she evoked from him. How she seemed to glow with it. As though she enjoyed her work. Enjoyed his agonies. Adan ElGlaive shuddered at the thought. The price he would pay was far worse for it. But he held to his resolve. In silence he faced her. Giving her nothing she could use against any later. Let it be said that Adan ElGlaive was stoic to the end. Gladly, as if she had wanted to hear nothing else. She seemed to catch her breath for a moment and that could not be good. A moment later he learned how right he was. She kept looking at him with that secret glance. He struggled in his chains to free himself while she was musing but it did him no good. He watched her come with the brand. Her hand soon on his stiff cock again. This time there was no hesitation. His man flesh erupting in a flaming inferno. He screamed wildly. He growled and cursed. The world of the tent blackened momentarily but somehow he could not escape the pain nor her eyes. She simply gave him that secret smile and applied the brand again. His knees buckled as she healed his flesh. The memory alive and searing deep in his mind. The scaring healed and waiting for her pleasure. He was gulping air staring. His shaft wore rings below his throbbing wet cock head. The rings each raised the flesh thickening it as a bump which encircled his manhood several times and spaced evenly. His shaft was throbbing with the change she caused. He gulped air. His sides heaving. He tried to get to his feet as she spoke about the hated piercings. Her plans for him. Her use. Her pleasure. His humiliation and shame. She was not finished taunting. Her hand to his chin ensuring he learned what she had planned before she committed him to it. His price for disobedience. She took his lips, capturing them. Taking from his mouth with her tongue. He could not resist her. He hated her. She was winning. He felt her push off. Her sweet tongue, soft lips against his gone. He was left without his pride, without his dignity to hang for her pleasure. He almost feared her. And maybe he should have. For when she turned and he beheld what she proposed. He fought those chains. Growled and cursed her. Tried to back from her. Tried to escape. But she came. Her mouth came and her tongue came. She came with a vengeance. She came bringing hell again to his body in the softest of touches. He hated that the most. He pressed his chest to her mouth for her attention. Knowing what was coming his body did not care. His back bowed to her mouth and his barrel chest surged forward welcoming her perversity. He gasp as she nipped him. He groaned with the pleasure of it. His tit hardening for her use. She came then, with the sharpest of needles and pierced him. But worst still she caught him in the middle of a groan. He could only writhe with her stabbing pain. Not once but twice on that sore tit. When she eyed the other he shook his head no violently. It did not good. He cried out but it was more of a groan. Her healing was magic that cause the ghosts of pain on his flesh and he began to despair. He should have learned. He should have understood. Instead he was feeling her. Was there this place in him that begged for the pain she had to offer. Was there within him such a one craving that. He turned his mind from that path but she found him musing and he groaned for her once more as she stabbed his tit flesh. His ears burned with the shame of it. Giving himself in such pieces for her use. He focused again when her hand claimed his shaft . Her words causing such a fear as he bellowed and fought the chains. But they were stronger than he imagined. He could move slightly and no more. He tried twisting and yet he body moved very little until she commanded him to screamed. The stabbing pain when to his heart and pierced him. For good reason he howled in pain and rode up on his heels. His knees turned leathery and he collapsed to hang on the chains. Her hands skillfully punishing him and twice again his manhood was violenced in ways that left his head hanging when she was finished. Healed quickly but the memory of pain linger as she taunted him. Cooeing and tormenting each new ring in turn. Each time she touched he groaned in pleasure and pain. It was not enough for her. He felt her brush against his sore body. Her back to his chest as she leaned and he leaned against her. He hated his soul but he wanted her touch. Her soft painful touch. He wanted her touch where ever she pleased. And she pleased herself with the feel of his tit rings. Her hand to his sore done cock and she gave her approval in a sigh of appreciation. He groaned from her contact. His hips rocked gently for more of what she could provide. Did he want what she could do. Did he want her to break him to her will. He did not know. He only knew the feeling was so intense he could not get enough. Hands. Her hands. Soft hand encouraging, touched him. Hands that came to his shoulders as her hair draped across his chest in silk waves. He groaned at her attention to his new rings. He moved against her not caring of how much he could take. There was pain that mixed and had him gulping shallow breaths again. Breaths he wanted to take against her. He thought that was all she would offer. He was wrong. So very wrong. She turned her face up to him. Lifting for him. Sweet delicious lips. Lips he pressed against his own. Giving her his mouth when she came to claim him. He could not ignore her touch with that kiss. Her tenderness. Her need speaking from her finger tips. Stroking his excitement as the rings cause more sensation than he had know before. Even the leash in her hand as she moved from him to sit. He stared at her. He hung on the chains wearing her rings and her brand, his cock ribbed for her pleasure and his shame as she held a leash and he watched her, wanting her all the more. His hands over his head now free and useless. Burning as the blood rushed back into them. Her leash a constant reminder of new position he moved as she directed. Albeit slowly and to the bed. She brought him to lay on his back for her. In moments she had him restrained. He could no longer struggle. He resisted her attentions as best he could but did not struggle. She came to him when she chose. When she was ready. His man hood fully erect and throbbing for her. And yet she hovered that glistening body above him. Slender flawless and waiting for him. He felt her wet hunger there. He lifted his hips but each time she held herself from him. He growled and curse as she refused him. Her words did not win the day. It was her soft moan as she brushed her wanton flesh against his cock head. He joined her in a groan. His head back as he tried get more, accepting what she gave him and hating her for wanting, for needing. Please... He mumbled, Adan.....