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

Different than Adan expected. Her coming to him, to gloat, to threaten, he expect that but this. He didn't expect this. Not at his back. Not as he hung from the pole and he felt her breasts against his back. Nor the hair. That beautiful platinum hair. He had felt nothing as soft against his skin as fine. Nothing. And when she spoke it wasn't harsh. It was in a way that disarmed him. All his defenses seemed useless, not from what she said. He believed she would take him to task but how she said it. There was no anger. As thought she wanted something else from him. She punctuated her promise. Her hot breath against his ear and he put his head back almost tilting in that direction to encourage her attention. And attention it did encourage. She gave more promise to him her body doing all the talking. Brushing against his coarse weather flesh. He was panting shallow breaths and trying to think as she spoke. As she touched. Oh, oh she touched. Did she bring herself wholly to press against his. Stirring him in a way a whip could not. Her vanilla and honey trailing as she went. A reminder of her promise. A reminder of the hell he was chained to as he denied it, and her. Or tried. Her promise was more than just her soft body. He watched the winter brewing in her eyes. The cold calculating whip. Expertly unfurled that great striker of flesh. He respected it and the arm that knew how to use it with skill. He watched her eyes. Her eyes told him where and when she would strike. His body tensed as he saw her arm snap and the whip lunge. He almost grimaced but the strike fell short and he thought she had missed. Until he felt that slight rustle and the drift of the ties as one side of his loin cloth fell from his hip. There was just enough time to realize what she had done before the crack of the whip came to his other. He thought surely she would strike him but the tie at his hip broke loose and the loin cloth fell to the floor at his feet. Her eyes. He watched her eyes as they brushed down his body. His exposed man flesh fully visible for her pleasure. He was proportional even there. Big hands, big feet, a big man. Now semi erect with the warming of his ear and the touch of her body against his. Small things to be sure but it lit the pulse in his veins like nothing he had felt before. He had little time to do much but warm further under her gaze. With a tilt of her head she lashed out. The bite caught him true across his chest and before he could do more than bark she laid a strike to his other side. She had begun in earnest. She drew back and set it to his flesh at her command. It struck true and claimed a part of his skin with each descent. Marking it for her to see her great work. Helpless to stop her. Helpless to defend himself. His body vulnerable and exposed no matter how he twisted from her strikes as though he allowed this for himself. Both his washboard stomach and his barrel sized thighs were marked in thin red welts when she stopped. He was clutching the chain and panting. Adding to his humiliation, his shaft betrayed him even more. Swelling with each new strike of her whip. Her laughter drowned out all else and he hated her. Did she see? Did she notice? Was that why she was laughing. She didn't give him time to think. She came to him. She was touching him. Touching his welts and he hissed thru his teeth as she pressed in the pain. Her body came to him again. His arms moved back more, his chest deeper, expanding for her. In spite of himself he was warming. Her hand, worse than the whip. Those finger pressing gliding down the sweat of his fur covered torso. Resting there as she spoke. So close without touching. His cock jerked in a salute and he closed his eyes in humiliation. Branding him. Branding him there. He locked his jaws tight unwilling to give her the satisfaction of his horror at the thought of a brand or worse. The scarification he had heard about. Ribbing a man's shaft to provide three circular ridges below his cock head for a woman's pleasure as she impaled herself. His eyes flew open, seeking hers to look deep in them. Was this also what she planned? It could not be. Not even she could break a man so. Humiliation yes, but to break him completely to her will. He could no longer swallow. His mouth suddenly dry as desert sand.