Pixie Isobella

A Story of Consensual Submission

Natalia spends an evening with her Dom, Pharos. She doesn’t know him very well yet but she knows that for him, she is just a slave. Her body is his to do what he wants with. Tonight he will torture her… How much will she endure before she begs for mercy?

Yes, My Lord is a serial story. This is Chapter 2. To start at the beginning, here is Chapter 1.

Tags: Consensual BDSM erotica, breast bondage, maledom, femsub, hoods, gags, deep throating, mind fuck, fear, degradation

Yes, My Lord: Chapter 2

Pharos tightens his fingers sadistically around my bound breast, murmuring to me. ‘I like you like this. All trussed up and available’.

Distorted and bound cruelly by the rope into large globes, my breasts feel amazing and painful at the same time. 

He kisses me again, forcing me to arch backwards to meet his lips. The motion tightens the rope and I whimper with the intense almost-pain sensation. My breasts feel as though they are almost cut off from my body by the rope bondage, turned into fun toys for his pleasure. 

I can’t get the intense-pressure sensation out of my head. It sparks a continuous trickle of heat into my groin, and I know I will be soaking wet as long as my breasts remain bound like this.

If he will do this to my breasts, what will he do to the rest of me?

‘What do you think it is going to feel like when I fuck you from behind, using the rope as a handle?’ He smirks at me as my eyes open wide in horror at the thought. 

I am not ready for that. 

My mind is still reeling when he shocks me again. He lifts a homemade hood over my head and I squeal as it blocks out my vision, straps tightening firmly around my eyes and down around my neck. I can feel the hood leaves my mouth exposed and I can breathe easily, but otherwise my head is completely enclosed.

‘I prefer you when you’re not a human,’ he murmurs softly in my ear, and I whimper in excited fear. ‘You’re like a blow-up doll from the sex shop, only I didn’t have to pay for you.’ I moan and from inside the hood my voice already feels like it doesn’t belong to me. The sensation in my breasts is intensified, and I wonder what he has planned next.

‘Say red or green.’

I say ‘green’ with a voice that feels rusty from underuse and I hear his delighted chuckle in response.

‘Good slave. Open your mouth.’

My mouth is already partially open as I pant with the intense sensations in my body but I open it wider, feeling vulnerable as I do. Oh god, what do I look like? In slutty lingerie and fuck-me shoes, my breasts bare and tortured by rope, distended from my body like toys, my face covered by the hood, my mouth wide open as if begging for cock?

It only gets worse. Pharos hands me soft balls and tells me to hold them in each of my hands where he can see them. I am puzzled until I feel leather-covered metal in my mouth and stretching across my cheeks. It is some kind of gag, hooks pulling my jaw open, and a strap in my mouth holding my tongue in place.

I feel myself choking in fright and I force myself to swallow.

Oh god. Oh my god.

My mouth feels so open and vulnerable, like a gaping hole in my face. I try to make a word but I realise the strap on my tongue effectively stops me forming words.

‘Clench your hands into fists to say green,’ he orders me, ‘or drop them for red’.

Oh no.

Oh, I don’t want this. But between my legs, my pussy is burning red hot and I know I do want this. I hate gags, but I love the feeling of being used, of being forced to experience things I dislike because he has chosen it and it brings him pleasure.

I clench my fists tightly around the balls, and I feel his warm satisfaction. The scene will continue.

‘Stupid whore,’ he says. ‘You know I’m going to hurt you.’

I moan in unreasonable pleasure at his words, even as I feel his laughter, and recognise from his hands on the rope that he is tightening it even further, cruelly around the base of my breasts. The slap comes out of nowhere, right across my engorged nipple, and I scream. The pain in my breast is shocking, but he only laughs as I reel sideways in the ridiculous heels.

He slaps my other breast, harder even, before I have stopped reeling, and I scream again. He flicks my nipple viciously with his fingers, then slaps my breast again, twice, and I can feel his pleasure rising as I scream, unable to see when or where he is about to hit me next. His other hand is holding me tightly by the back of the hood and I will not fall however much I totter sideways in the high heels.

‘This is just my hands,’ he tells me, ‘what about when I hit your breasts with my belt?’ I scream again at the thought, and as I do, he slaps my breasts hard twice, three times in quick succession. I can feel saliva running out of my gagged mouth but I can’t stop it, I can’t stop screaming at the intense sensations, made even more intense by the hood blocking out my eyes.

‘Silly slut,’ he says again, and there is a moment of peace while my breathing settles and his hand plays gently, softly with my abused breast. ‘What about this,’ he murmurs into my ear and I have no time to prepare as his hand tightens on my breast and twists, sharply, sadistically.

The pain is unbelievable. I scream again, and I know I am saying ‘no, no, no, stop,’ except that my mouth is gagged. My eyes are running and he is laughing, a deep satisfied laugh as he releases my breast, only to catch the other and again twist sharply, cruelly, hard and fast, so that the pressure intensifies and the rope cuts even deeper into my flesh.

I am screaming ‘no’ in my wordless voice, begging him in my mind to stop, and yet I am still holding tightly onto the soft balls he has given me in my hands. I am a silly slut, I do want this, I enjoy this thing he does to me, where I am his toy and he gets to hurt me. 

He pulls me close to him, his fingers tightening sadistically around one nipple, twisting and digging his fingernails in. I moan, breathing fast and uncontrollably. ‘You know why you’re better than a blow-up?’ he murmurs in my ear, while his fingers crush my nipple and I beg silently for the pain to stop. ‘Because I can hurt you, and then I can fuck you, and I can hurt you even more while I’m fucking you. You’re going to be screaming with pain as I cum inside you, and it makes me so hard when I hurt you, when I hear you scream.’ 

I whimper convulsively and his hand briefly releases my nipple, only to grab and twist my breast again, deliberately hurting me. ‘Your hole had better be good to fuck, because I’m so hard right now.’

Would you like to read more? Here is Chapter 3.

If you’d like to support me as an author, please buy my published novella here: Pleasure Doll: The Enslavement of Isobel.

© 2022 Pixie Isobella
The author asserts their right to be identified as the creator of this work under the name “Pixie Isobella”.