love binds

She lays curled and naked on the cold cement floor, hands bound between her thighs. Her matted hair, splayed about her face and shoulders surrounds her head like a halo. The tracks of her tears have traced her cheeks with blackened lines. A violet ring of bruises raise up from her fair breasts, surrounding the areoles like petals of a dark flower. Adorned only in a black leather collar and matching high-heeled slave sandals she whimpers quietly in the dark.

The rude creak of hinges breaks the silence. Light spills into the room as the door to the room is slowly pushed open .His First stiffens in anticipation and fear, her sobs silenced with a ragged gasp. A shadow darkens the doorway. She holds her breath as black boots walk with heavy determination across the floor towards her. She does not wish to look up at Him. If it wasn't for her caustic tongue and her vexatious attitude, she would not be in this present state. Her buttocks still stung and she was sure it would stay tender for at least a day or so. But beneath the contrite demeanour lurked an untamed siren. It was no fault of hers that sometimes words seemed to tumble from her mouth in an impulsive string. Besides, it was this very attitude which sparked the flame of attraction between them, like flint on dry leaves, kindling a fire that raged deep within their dark minds. He did not address her as His First for mere fanciful reasons.
The boots stop inches from her face. The laces are missing but she is very aware of their presence from the way they cut into the tender flesh at her wrists. A boot reaches out and prods her. Dirt from the under sole sprinkles down on to her breasts and belly. She cannot help but jerk backwards as a whimper escapes her lips. Tears well up in her emerald eyes. All she wishes for at this moment is for the touch of His hands on her face, His voice whispering in her ear as His lips graze hers. Instead, it is only the tinkle of the belt buckle, the sound jangling harshly in the quiet. Her ears pick up the sound of each button being popped with deliberate slowness.
Suddenly His hands are in her hair. She closes her eyes, wincing in pain as she is abruptly dragged to her knees.

"No please", she implores, knowing well what is expected off her.

In response, the fist wrapped in her long mane tightens, knuckles grazing her scalp. She takes a deep hissing breath between clenched teeth and is instantly filled with the sharp smell of His musk. The aroma swirls about her, permeating her senses, hardening her nipples and tickling down her spine to finger the insides of her already wet cunt. She opens her eyes with slight trepidation. Her face is directly in front of His crotch, as she'd expected, her lips mere inches from a hard cock, the tip already glossy with moisture. How long had he stayed this hard? She had lost track of time in this cold dark room. The hand in her hair tightens again almost viciously, yanking her head sideways. Her mouth parts inadvertently. Finally, she flicks her smouldering eyes upwards, locking her gaze with him as a hiss escapes her lips.
His dark eyes are ablaze with a deep passion and unbridled lust. His mouth begins to move, but instead of words, she stares in alarm as a bubble of spittle appears from between His pursed lips - watches as it grows ever larger to finally break free and splash on his engorged member.
Her Master pulls her face closer to the dripping tip, runs it across her beautiful lips. He finally speaks in a voice that is low, husky and jagged with desire.

"Let's see you put this dirty pretty mouth to good use, My Precious"