Message-ID: <37994asstr$1030158602@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Toran" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2600.0000 X-Original-Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 23 Aug 2002 22:24:44 GMT X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 23 Aug 2002 22:24:44 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Work Break (D/s, BDSM, M/f) Date: Fri, 23 Aug 2002 23:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates Hi, this is my first post to this newsgroup (thanks SL for pointing the way!) I hope this conforms to the moderated guidelines. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Toran toran29@insightbb.com http://www.dajungle.com/stories/toran29/ The following story is intended for mature adults and features bondage, discipline and erotic Dominance and submission. Work Break by Toran The words come up on her computer and at first she just glances - the spreadsheet before her is making her eyes blur and there is a distinct kink in the back of her neck. But when the little window of her email program flashes the sender's address her heart misses a beat. It's him - The Him. Spreadsheet now the farthest thing from her mind, she swivels in her chair and gives her PC her undivided attention - actually, it's Him that is getting her undivided attention. The email program harmlessly opens His mail, just as it has opened all her mail all day. But this one is different. These aren't bothersome questions about her job, about the spreadsheet, about anything in this vanilla office with the vanilla chairs and vanilla desk. This would just be one question, although the variations could be endless, given His penchant for spice. This would simply ask her to submit - to Him. "...hello, pet. Close the curtains to your office and lock the door. Turn off the lights so the only light comes from my words on your screen..." Without hesitation, she jumps up and slams the curtains closed, a new dark world sealing her in - her office was no more. The click of the lock ensures that no one from outside will be able to intrude. Heart pounding in her chest, she slides back behind her desk, the glow from the computer finding an anxious but determined face. "...reach into the lowest drawer on the right side of the desk - the drawer where I've put my toys." Of course, she thinks, He has a set of keys to the office, given to Him the night she gave Him her body and mind and soul. Nothing is off limits to Him, nothing secret. With trembling fingers, she slides the drawer open. A set of handcuffs, a big red ballgag, a set of nipple clamps connected by a thin silver chain, and a small flogger. She inhales sharply and the first trickle of warm giddiness fills her belly. It's many moments before she turns back to the computer screen, moments in which her eyes fix on each piece of equipment, all meant to hold her and hurt her and torment her - for Him. "...open your blouse and put the clamps on." She unbuttons the tops of her white blouse and rolls back her lacy black bra, nipples already hard and ready. The first clamp goes on and she closes her eyes from the sharp pain. Before she can even think to rub the wounded flesh, the other is snapped on, the delicate chain seeming to weigh many pounds as it hangs down her chest. "...buckle the gag in tight. When you've tightened it snugly, pull the strap two extra holes. Lock it on." She stares at the screen. It's only 3:30. She does not have a key to the gag. She closes her eyes. It's His will. Heart now thundering in her chest, she slides the big red ball between her teeth, pulling it as tight as she can - forget the two holes - she knows He'll want it tighter than tight. She pauses before snapping the lock shut. This is what He wants. To own her, to make her His. Whenever and however He wants. Hearing her breathing, only her breathing fill the room, she clicks the lock home. "...handcuff yourself behind your back." A slow moan starts from deep in her throat and the warmth in her belly lights a fire inside her. Almost in a daze, feeling the dull throb of the clamps on her nipples, the weight of the big gag that keeps her mouth both filled and sealed, she leans forward in her chair and takes the cuffs in one hand. Cold steel. Of course, there isn't a key for the cuffs. Why should there be? The gag isn't coming off, why should she be allowed to get free once the cuffs go on. She takes a deep breath, aware that she's in her office, there are others, vanilla others just beyond the glass window and wooden door, having not a clue that inside, in what is now her cell, for she can't just walk out of here like this - inside is she, about to be helpless. She feels the cool steel encircle one wrist and rachets the cuff shut. Pausing to glance up at the door and windows, hoping beyond hope that He has planned for this, that He will come and somehow rescue her - or maybe hurt her, maybe torment her, maybe make her scream from behind her gag - she clicks the second cuff shut. She waits. Her office works around her. There are a few knocks at the door from time to time, but it's locked so no one enters. She finds herself staring at the flogger, nestled harmlessly at the bottom of the open drawer, in the shadows of the glow of the computer. What will He do to her? When will He come? >:) -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+