Pixie Isobella

A Story of Consensual Submission

Her breasts bound and tortured, her face hooded, her mouth gagged… Her Dom’s degrading words ring in her ears, turning her on even more. Pharos loves to pretend that she isn’t human and Natalia loves it as well…

Yes, My Lord is a serial story. This is Chapter 4. To start at the beginning, here is Chapter 1.

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

Yes, My Lord: Chapter 4

My senses are reeling and my breasts hurt in their bindings. I sense that I am even wetter between my legs than I was before Pharos face-fucked me.

In the hood, kneeling at his feet, I feel disconnected from the room, unable to connect with who I really am.

You are his hole, my brain tells me, and his breasts, and his painslut, designed to scream and writhe and beg for mercy that will not come.

Pharos pulls me up onto my feet, while I’m still thinking, and I lean against him, unstable standing in the silly high heels.

‘Colour, whore,’ he murmurs at me, directly into my ear. ‘Make fists with the balls for green, drop the balls for red’.

I don’t understand why I don’t drop the balls. Instead I tighten my hands around them in fists he can clearly see, and from his sigh of satisfaction, I know we are not stopping just yet.

He leads me back to the bed and directs me to lie down on my back, and I obey, moving slowly because I can’t see and because my breasts feel stiff and sore from the bondage. The pressure inside my breasts has increased and I know if I was to look at them, the round globes would be red and engorged from the tight bondage.

Pharos pulls my hands above my head, clipping each wrist cuff to the edge of the bed so I am lying spread eagled like an angel pinned to a bed by her wings. I pull my knees into my chest, holding them tightly together and I think he will push them apart but he doesn’t yet, seeming content to focus on my upper body for now.

He strokes me gently, playing again largely with my breasts but still caressing the rest of my upper body as well. I feel his fingers on my face and I stiffen as he runs his fingertips through the slippery saliva that has dripped from my open mouth. ‘I could clean you up,’ he murmurs, ‘but I don’t think you deserve it. You’re a stupid, dirty whore who lets men touch you and hurt you, and stick their hungry dicks inside you, aren’t you?’

I whimper. His words turn me on so much.

Pharos laughs at me, conspiratorially, into my ear. ‘If I rang up some mates, and told them to come over, you’d spread your legs for them, wouldn’t you, you stupid hole? You’d moan and whimper in that seductive voice of yours while they poked their eager dicks into you.’

I blush red hot and feel myself breathing faster at his degrading words. He chuckles, his hand kneading my abused breast. 

‘I need to get hard,’ he speaks again, ‘so I can fuck you. And you know how I get hard, don’t you slave?’

I whimper against the gag. It is still pressing my tongue cruelly to the base of my mouth, still forcing my lips wide open. I’m not ready for more pain, not yet.

But everything happens on Pharos’ timeline and not mine. I feel something cool and sharp tracing lines across the skin of my torso and I shudder. ‘Do you know what this is?’ Pharos murmurs at me. I whimper, unable to speak. I can guess, though.

‘It’s my knife,’ he chuckles, as I tense and fear floods through me. ‘You know I’m going to cut you, don’t you? Maybe not tonight, but eventually.’ 

I whimper convulsively, desperate to tell him I’m not ready to be cut. Yes, I like the idea, yes I have said sometime, but not yet, not yet.

‘I’m going to stick needles in your skin too,’ he chuckles, as I tense and want to pull against the restraints, suddenly terrified beyond reason that the knife tracing lines across my skin will bite into me.

‘I want to fuck you after I’ve cut you, so I can watch your blood trickling in droplets across your skin, so I know that that is all you can feel. I want to fuck you while you’ve still got my metal buried deep in your skin, spearing you, controlling you.’

I whimper and moan, pressing my legs tighter against each other, while the knife drifts lower across my exposed stomach and ribs. Then the blade knife slides back up my body, and suddenly I wishes it had remained on my stomach, because now the sharp blade is tracing lines playfully across my taut, tightly bound breasts.

Pharos squeezes one breast gently and I hiss at the increased pressure. ‘You’ll scream beautifully when I pierce your breasts with needles, won’t you, little whore? Big long skewers that run right from one side to the other…’ I jerked my head away from him, uncontrollably, and he laughed, his grip tightening on my breast. ‘Maybe next time. I want to see your eyes while I hurt you. But right now…’

I tense to feel him rising up onto his knees beside me, suddenly feeling even vulnerable. ‘I am going to mark you,’ he says in a voice that allows no argument, and I hiss in fear as I feel a sharp line across the skin of my breast. I scream and try to pull away, mindlessly reacting. I realised only halfway through the motion that it had not hurt.

Pharos laughs at me. ‘Stupid slut. I’m not cutting you now. I’m working out where I’m going to cut you in future.’

I feel him marking a star pattern down from my engorged nipple, across the sensitive breast tissue, and I whimper. It is a pen, just a roller pen, marking a path across my skin. But, I can imagine the knife cutting me, I can imagine how it will feel, and I want him to stop.

He marks a pattern on each of my breasts, and then he draws a pattern snaking down across my ribs and stomach to my hip, and I lie still, my brain still convinced he is cutting me with a knife. He just laughs and I know that kneeling above me on the bed, he is growing hard again. He has me beneath him, helpless, while he thinks about hurting me.

My knees are still pressed firmly together and I am feeling unreasonably shy. Yes, I am nearly naked, and yes he has bound and tortured my breasts, and yes tonight he fucked my throat far deeper and more intimately than any man ever has before. But other than a lazy finger feeling my wetness and fucking gently inside me on previous nights when we had made out, he hasn’t seen between my legs.

And I… I had agreed enthusiastically to him fucking me bare tonight. We had both been tested but now I am scared. It is so… intimate, and I can’t see him with the hood on, and my body feels over-sensitive and scared.

Pharos kneels beside me with a lazy hand on one of my knees while I try not to breathe.

‘Red or green?’ he asks. ‘You want to continue, little doll?’

I gulp. Yes, yes I do. Oh hell, yes. My pussy is so very wet, so wet and needy, I am just scared because I know he is going to hurt me more, and I can’t see him, and I know it is deliberate on his part. Last time we played together, he pulled a sheet over my face while he was playing with my breasts.

I prefer it when you’re not a human, just a hole I can fuck.

We are perfect for each other, because I prefer it when I’m not a human as well.

Would you like to read more? Chapter 5 is coming soon.

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”.