Read Online The Story of Owen: One Man's Submissive Journey by Claire Thompson - Free Book Online
Authors: Claire Thompson
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me?” Mistress Sylvie whispered close to his ear.
He was suffering already, but her words sent a jolt of sexual heat through his blood, making his tortured cock throb even harder, if that was possible. “Yes, Mistress,” he breathed.
She stepped away. “You need to be punished for failing to strip immediately when you entered the room. Back on your toes.”
Owen rose on the balls of his feet, sighing with relief as the intense pressure on his cock and balls eased. His hair had fallen into his eyes and he tried to shake it away but it was wet with sweat and didn’t cooperate. He watched as Mistress Sylvie opened a drawer of her desk and withdrew some items.
She held up a black chain with clamps on either end. He recognized what it was from sex videos he’d watched online. Clover clamps, the kind that tighten when pulled. He bit his lip as she approached him with them.
“You belong to me,” she said softly, as she ran her hand over his chest, pressing her open palm against his left nipple. “Your heart is beating so hard for me. You are my slave, my possession.”
The words reverberated through his head, filling him with a longing that was almost painful in its intensity. He wanted that. Oh, Jesus God, how he wanted that. And for this session, for this purchased time, he was just that—her slave, her possession.
If only it didn’t have to end…
He was completely distracted from his hopeless musings when she compressed one of the clamps and then let it close over his left nipple. It took a second for the pain to register, and then it flooded his nerve endings, making him gasp. She did the same with his right nipple and then lifted the chain to his lips.
“Bite the chain. Don’t let it go, no matter what I do to you. Do you understand?”
“Oh, god,” Owen murmured, barely able to hear her over the pounding of his heart in his ears.
“That is not an answer!” Mistress Sylvie said, her eyes sparking. She slapped his cheek, though her touch was light, more to reprimand than to hurt.
“Yes, Mistress,” Owen hurriedly replied between labored breaths. His nipples were on fire, the pain for the moment distracting him from the clench of metal against his cock and balls. Mistress Sylvie pressed the chain to his lips and Owen let them part and then bit down. The resulting pull of the clamps at his nipples made him groan through clenched teeth.
Returning to the desk, Mistress Sylvie picked up a riding crop, the leather dyed blood red. “Remember,” she admonished as she returned to him. “No matter what I do, you keep that chain in your mouth, and stay on your toes.”
She reached for his face and for a split second Owen thought she was going to slap him again, but instead she smoothed the matted hair from his eyes. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, her fingers cool against his heated forehead.
“And now,” Mistress Sylvie dragged the folded rectangle of leather at the end of the crop handle down Owen’s chest, “it’s time for your punishment.”
~*~
Sylvie felt the gentle throb between her legs. It had been a long time since a client had excited her as Owen did. He was so responsive! The way his eyes widened, the way he trembled, the way his cock surged toward her, the way his heart pounded against her palm.
Something about him reminded her of Jacques, though they looked nothing alike. Maybe it was his yearning, the achingly sweet longing to submit that radiated from him like a force field that reminded her of her old lover. She liked Owen’s smell, too, a strong, earthy male scent. Was he married, she found herself wondering, and then shook the thought away. What did it matter? She never pried into her clients’ private lives.
Focusing, she stepped back, examining Owen’s cock and balls with a critical eye. She was always careful not to keep them shackled in the vise for too long, not wanting to cause any permanent damage. But she hadn't screwed the vise too tight for Owen, aware from
He was suffering already, but her words sent a jolt of sexual heat through his blood, making his tortured cock throb even harder, if that was possible. “Yes, Mistress,” he breathed.
She stepped away. “You need to be punished for failing to strip immediately when you entered the room. Back on your toes.”
Owen rose on the balls of his feet, sighing with relief as the intense pressure on his cock and balls eased. His hair had fallen into his eyes and he tried to shake it away but it was wet with sweat and didn’t cooperate. He watched as Mistress Sylvie opened a drawer of her desk and withdrew some items.
She held up a black chain with clamps on either end. He recognized what it was from sex videos he’d watched online. Clover clamps, the kind that tighten when pulled. He bit his lip as she approached him with them.
“You belong to me,” she said softly, as she ran her hand over his chest, pressing her open palm against his left nipple. “Your heart is beating so hard for me. You are my slave, my possession.”
The words reverberated through his head, filling him with a longing that was almost painful in its intensity. He wanted that. Oh, Jesus God, how he wanted that. And for this session, for this purchased time, he was just that—her slave, her possession.
If only it didn’t have to end…
He was completely distracted from his hopeless musings when she compressed one of the clamps and then let it close over his left nipple. It took a second for the pain to register, and then it flooded his nerve endings, making him gasp. She did the same with his right nipple and then lifted the chain to his lips.
“Bite the chain. Don’t let it go, no matter what I do to you. Do you understand?”
“Oh, god,” Owen murmured, barely able to hear her over the pounding of his heart in his ears.
“That is not an answer!” Mistress Sylvie said, her eyes sparking. She slapped his cheek, though her touch was light, more to reprimand than to hurt.
“Yes, Mistress,” Owen hurriedly replied between labored breaths. His nipples were on fire, the pain for the moment distracting him from the clench of metal against his cock and balls. Mistress Sylvie pressed the chain to his lips and Owen let them part and then bit down. The resulting pull of the clamps at his nipples made him groan through clenched teeth.
Returning to the desk, Mistress Sylvie picked up a riding crop, the leather dyed blood red. “Remember,” she admonished as she returned to him. “No matter what I do, you keep that chain in your mouth, and stay on your toes.”
She reached for his face and for a split second Owen thought she was going to slap him again, but instead she smoothed the matted hair from his eyes. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, her fingers cool against his heated forehead.
“And now,” Mistress Sylvie dragged the folded rectangle of leather at the end of the crop handle down Owen’s chest, “it’s time for your punishment.”
~*~
Sylvie felt the gentle throb between her legs. It had been a long time since a client had excited her as Owen did. He was so responsive! The way his eyes widened, the way he trembled, the way his cock surged toward her, the way his heart pounded against her palm.
Something about him reminded her of Jacques, though they looked nothing alike. Maybe it was his yearning, the achingly sweet longing to submit that radiated from him like a force field that reminded her of her old lover. She liked Owen’s smell, too, a strong, earthy male scent. Was he married, she found herself wondering, and then shook the thought away. What did it matter? She never pried into her clients’ private lives.
Focusing, she stepped back, examining Owen’s cock and balls with a critical eye. She was always careful not to keep them shackled in the vise for too long, not wanting to cause any permanent damage. But she hadn't screwed the vise too tight for Owen, aware from
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