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

Her hands were soft and cruel as she used them against his defenses. He had bellowed and cursed at the pain she brought to him. His stubbornness rewarded as she promised. And yet he moaned. How could this be. Her torture a brutal and yet it was as thought he needed her hellish delight. He denied it. His mind reeling. He focused instead on her hands that took pleasure from his body. But her hips came instead with her sweet nectar and heat. He thrashed his head from side to side. Holding back a moan, he knew it would be his undoing, Nooo! She was simply setting herself upon him. Engaging in full combat in a way he had no ability to fight. He was learning and struggling against the jolts of energy that surged thru his body with every touch. Her mouth on his sensitive ear tips. Demons and Kings!! He bellowed and arched as she suckled the arousal from him there. He prayed silently she did not wish rings on him there. But his cock jerked with the images of a chariot he pulled. His body naked in harness, his cock ring chained to its livery and in her hands, as the throngs greeted the victorious Ariia upon her return. He closed his eyes and cursed loudly at the torment of such humiliation. She pulled his mind back to the pleasure she brought to his body. Her fingers tugging his nipple rings. It was a mixture pain and pleasure. It surged thru his veins and set him on fire. He panted watching her abuse. Her words were not comforting. She knew this. More humiliation. She was enjoying reminding him her ownership, of his defeat. Her pleasure. His pleasure would be the situation reversed. But her kiss brought out the savage of him, and her hot tongue took what she wanted. Her hand thru his hair as she captured his mouth with hers muting his moan of pleasure. With the groan came humiliation, shame for giving in to her, to his weakness. He gave into her tenderness as she spread her desire along the full length of his rock hard shaft. And he wanted. Gods and Kings curses his stallion pawed for her wet womanhood. His hips lifting to catch her, to impale himself inside her but she was too certain and he too secure for that instant release. He had committed his first transgression. He had given her his name and asked. She met it with praise which shamed him, a dog, hers to lead or used as she wished. But never free. Only allowed to obey. Her hand came then, gentle and caring to wash away the lines of self hate against his cheek. Her lips came shortly, taking from him, reminding him of his place beneath her on her bed and in her collar. Oh but her hand came to grip his weapon. That barrel poised and ready for her. Stroking his cock head against her wet need. He shuddered with the tension that bloated his loins and had his shaft engorged. But she asked a price he refused yet to pay. And the promise of the agony she would bring upon him much like earlier had his cock jerk in her hand. He was sweating and struggling in the restraints as he tried to lift up and take her without her permission. Break me if you can witch! He growled as his heart beat raced thru his body and he stirred to his core with lust for her.