Kaninchen in Bondage [maledom, discipline]

CMNF master slave crop

The interview

K wasn’t sure what to wear; she was distracted, and less certain of herself than usual. This wasn’t unexpected, she’d been thinking about this evening for two months now. She tried to focus again on her clothes, picking up her silken black suspenders, her tightly fitting corset and figure-hugging black dress. Was she really going to wear this to an interview? Leaving the clothes on her bed, she sat down by her vanity and toweled her hair dry. Her golden hair shimmered in the sunbeams as she tamed it. She smiled as she combed it, she’d always been so proud of her hair, and with good reason, as she’d been complimented on it as long as she could remember. Her golden skin offset her sky blue eyes. She was beautiful. Lost in her reverie, she glimpsed her bed through the mirrors eye. She frowned as the memory of two months ago came flooding back…

She’d been so excited; it had been her first interview for work since finishing her Master’s In Education from the prestigious University of Mainz. But not only that, it was for the sister college of Kolleg St. Blasien, the premier Gymnasium in the Upper Rhine region! She’d known she only had a little experience, but she’d worked and studied so hard, and for so long; finally, it was her chance to impress! She’d dressed impeccably, she’d thought at the time, in a light blue suit, high collared shirt and her hair tied back. Looking back she wondered if she’d sensed the slightly off-key atmosphere on arrival. Or was it a false memory, caused by the evening? For a start, there was the time, who had heard of an interview at eight in the evening? Yet she’d arrived promptly, ten minutes ahead of time. She’d look at the gothic knocker on the high black door for a moment before announcing herself. She’d been greeted by a friendly man, with a jovial, red face. He’d led her up three flights of red-carpeted stairs and into an ornate study…

Sitting at a large desk was a woman in a white dress. While the red-faced man had taken his seat beside her, K had taken a minute to study her interviewer. She was pale, with flowing black hair, and a look of concentration on her face as coolly regarded K. “Sit down”, she’d instructed, and K obeyed instinctively. She took her position on the small wooden chair across from them. She’d smiled at them, hoping to quell her nerves. It was returned by the red-faced man, who beamed at her; but not by the woman in white, who merely said, “Let us begin”.
Two intense hours of questions and answers followed. Whenever the man relaxed her with a joke or a supportive word, the woman would cut in and change the topic. Teaching strategies, phonology, her experiences with challenging students, her classroom management skills; all were examined and queried by the unrelenting pair. Her mouth grew dry, and her voice cracked slightly from the strain. Had she caught a hint of pleasure from the woman as she’d teased K with a sip from her iced goblet? Struggling to overcome her weariness she’d answered her last question, on the merits of Mark Twain as a social commentator, when she’d gotten her first shock…

“Would you like a drink?”
The voice resonated and reverberated from the leathered books on the walls. She’d turned with a start, licking her lips involuntarily. How had she not seen him? He’d stepped lightly out of the shadows by the window. She’d swallowed, almost painfully, as she’d seen him in the light.
He was tall, with black hair and piercing blue eyes, and he smiled at her consternation. Moving forward, she’d caught the flash of silver on his wrist as he extended his left hand to her. She still hadn’t said a word as his hands enveloped her soft, warm hands in a caressing handshake. She’d felt the hidden power of well-used muscles in his fingers and she swallowed once more.
“I don’t like to repeat myself, Miss K, but, since this is your first interview, I will. Would you like a drink?”
She’d nodded, and whispered, where had her voice gone?
“Yes”.
He’d smiled gently at her, let go her hands and returned with a silver goblet. She’d been greedy, gulped when she should have sipped. Warm, heady, honeyed alcohol ran through her like embers…

“Miss K”, he’d said, “you’re extremely intelligent, well-mannered and capable of dealing with…” he’d lingered for a split second before continuing, “demanding situations. But I require more from my staff. There is a power in life experiences that you need. A teacher needs to lead by example, and for studies and achievements, you will excel. However I don’t feel you’ve explored yourself fully, see the hidden depths within yourself, you’ve lived in the sunshine for too long, and you need to journey through the darkness to be a guide in the future. You need to experience pure pain, and with that pure pleasure in order to reveal you’re true nature.”
His words, the alcohol, and her tired mind had combined, she’d exclaimed, “what do you mean?”
Leaning forwards and taking her un-offered hands, he’d smiled again and said, “Come back at the same time in two months’, and I’ll both tell you and show you.” He’d lifted her then, raising her hands, and with it her, until she was looking up into his eyes. He’d guided her then, still holding her hands, until they stood at the doorway.
“The French believe a woman’s sensuality for the day begins with what they choose to wear; next time, wear clothing to match your true nature.” With those words, he’d opened the door, escorted her through and closed it behind her.

On her way home, her thoughts had jumbled together, a mix of flushed nerves, warmth, and a release of tension. What were pure pain and pleasure? She had had lovers, she knew what pleasure was; yet still the thoughts of accepting his guidance and control caused her pupils to dilate, her lips to open slightly and her breath to deepen. She wondered at his effect on her. And she thought, “Yes! This something I want to try. I’m young, free and I want to see where this will lead”.
Her hair was finished, it shimmered as she got up, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. She dressed with care, she wanted to impress him, but more than that, she had listened to his words since then, and yes, she had started to feel the sensuality of what she wore. She teased herself by wearing revealing, silken underwear to her friends’ parties. Her orgasms had become more intense as she’d imagined scenarios of his long fingers guiding her, she held motionless by his voice, motionless to his will in that room. She couldn’t pinpoint it, how could a voice and fingers cause such intense pleasure, for such a small loss of control? She’d tried to rationalize it in daylight, but by moonlight, her senses took over, and she went in to her darker half.
She was ready. Taking one last deep breath, she stepped out, into the night…

The test

She was admitted wordlessly, but not silently, the great bell clanging through the ancient testament to learning. She climbed the stairs in trepidation, not knowing what to expect when she entered the room. The door was ajar, and there was an expectant silence from within.
The room was similar, yet slightly different, from before. The same books lined the walls, the heavy curtains still let streams of light shine in, and the heavy desk still commanded her view. He sat behind it, fingers splayed on it, as he watched her approach. But there was no chair for her.
She approached steadily, watching him defiantly. She had mastered her fear, she was a daughter of the Moselle, with a lineage that stretched back to antiquity; she would not be cowed by a man for no reason, and certainly not for words spoken two months ago. She stood before him, crossed her arms and waited…

“Put your hands by your sides” he commanded. Her hands dropped, and her chin lifted slightly. He cocked his head to one side as he considered her poise and her beauty.
Her breasts pushed out against her corset, her thigh muscles were framed by her silken stockings and her glowing skin contrasted perfectly with her short, black cocktail dress. Her sun kissed hair silhouetted her voluptuous frame in gold and summer. ‘She was a perfect contradiction’, he thought to himself, the dark desires and the golden disposition.
“Are you willing to be trained?” he asked at last. She nodded an affirmation, but he frowned, and said, “Answer when you are asked a question. A nod can be involuntary, words have power”.
“Yes”, she replied.
“Yes, to what?” he queried, firmly yet gently. She knew he was guiding her voice. ‘Why this insistence on specifics’, she wondered.
“Yes, I am ready to be trained”, she answered…

“Frau Kaninchen, you’ve never been trained before, have you?”
“No Sir”, he frowned, “No, Sir, I’ve never been trained before”, she completed.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, looking deep in to her sapphire blue eyes.
She bit her lip briefly, “I don’t trust you yet…Sir”
“Then today we will work on trust; trust, obedience and control. Today, you will control your restraint, you will show me that you can, and will, obey me. And I will show you that I won’t pass your limit. Although I will test them” he added with a smile. It was infectious, she smiled back.
And then he was on his feet. He looked down at her, matching her unflinching gaze. She saw the icy glint in his fiery blue eyes, and she wondered, ‘was this a mistake?’…

“This is a Test. I’m going to hurt you, a lot. And it’s for you to decide when I stop. If you pass my number, then you pass the test and you will move in on Monday for two months. If you fail, then we will never see each other again. Do you agree?”
She gritted her teeth, looked back in to his eyes, and answered, “Yes, I agree.”
“Put your hands, palms down, fingers spread on the desk.”
She stepped forwards, and he immediately stopped her. “No, remain standing where you were.” She retreated and looked down; she was almost a metre from the desk. Carefully she stretched her arms out, ready to catch herself if she fell. Bending her knees she could reach it, and she did so.
“Straighten your legs.”
He was remorseless, she thought with a growing excited nervousness. She stood, balanced, her fingers flat to the dark wood and her head barely higher than her back.
“Arch your back, and look forward.” Directly across from her was a silver rimmed mirror and she could see herself outlined in it…

He reveled in her figure as he strode around her and the desk. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs, revealing the tops of her suspenders. He lifted it up above her delicate black underwear; her ass was heart shaped and perfect.
He waited a moment, drinking in the sumptuous view she presented. And she was aware of his desire, a smile escaped her lips. But the ice frosted his eyes, and he measured her will as he traced the outline of her silken buttocks with his fingertips. Her breathing deepened but she didn’t flinch from his touch.
“Count for me” he breathed in to her ear.
The first strike from his hand caught her perfectly on her right buttock, sending a jolt of pain along her back, and down to her fingers. She gasped, but said nothing.
“I said count” he repeated, and this time there was an edge in the spank, a sting that sent a shiver along her.
“One, two,” she quickly said…

“Frau K, you’ve made me repeat myself. For this error I’ll double your test. And be warned, if you lift a hand from the desk, or move your feet, you fail”.
With these words he began in earnest. This time there was little gentleness in his hands, the strikes continued, alternating between cheeks, reddening her skin and eliciting deeper and deeper gasps from her trembling lips.
K continued to count, even as each slap stung her. She moaned as he increased the pace; had he been teasing her! ‘Could she continue?’ her thoughts trembled in her mind, jarred as she focused again on the count. ‘God, the Count!”.
He paused, and walked around to face her across the desk. “How many?”, he murmured as he caressed her glistening face; oh so gently!
She shook her head, but then tried anyway, “37?” she queried.
“35”. His eyes frosted, “we’ll start again…”

She nodded wordlessly; she would pass his test she promised herself.
Each cheek was already sensitive from her earlier spanking, and this time he was equally unmerciful. Each cheek was punished; each cheek was pushed to her limits and then released as he would work on the other. She thought at times she would scream, or cry, but she focused on her count. Almost sobbing her numbers out as each blow fell on her bare skin.
At thirty six he stopped, he kissed her tenderly on her marks, gently but insistently he cooled her fevered skin and slowly her breathing returned to normal. She was trembling, her body wracked with the desire she could feel within them both.
He calmed her, bringing her slowly to stand while holding her against himself so that she did not fall as she swayed.
“You passed the second test, yet failed the first. You may continue your training, yet I cannot fully reward you, yet. Congratulations; enjoy your next few days of freedom, and I’ll see you in three days”.
She smiled in triumph, and walked out, in to the night…

The trap

She shifted her weight from one knee to the other, testing the leeway as she sank a little in to the velvety fleece. She had a little, but not much. The heavy, black shackles on her ankles kept her feet stretched apart. Her knees were ensnared in soft and unyielding rope, spreading her thighs. She looked up to the black coils that pulled her slender arms in to the darkness above her. A bead of seat traced its way down her back, leaving its salt taste on her golden skin.
She shivered as she looked about her, everywhere she saw herself; her helpless form reflected in eight silvered mirrors. Her hands were bound and tied to silver hoops high above the bed. Her head and hair were completely free; he wanted her to see herself. Her gold and his silver, was there an analogy here to the sun and the moon she thought to herself.
The dark bruises on her buttocks, his marks, were the only flaws on her otherwise perfect body. She winced as she thought of the pain of the last three days…

She’d gotten the train home, standing all the way. Her thoughts chasing each other, she still couldn’t remember the journey clearly, not one passenger noticed or cared for. Elated, giddy and unthinking, she’d fallen in to her bed and slept a dark, dreamless sleep. The next day she’d gotten in to the shower, and shrieked when the hot water sluiced over the raised red welts of his hands. She’d been more careful since, sponging herself, applying Aloe Vera sap and patting herself gently dry. She didn’t sit down for two days. By the third her bruises had appeared; dark blue fingers covered her from just below her back down to her upper thighs.
She’d traced the marks with her fingers; remembering which had made her wince, or sob, or which had torn a tear from her proud eyes. But she had passed her trial by hand, and now she was going back for two things, her punishment for loosing count, and her reward for reaching 36…

He stood before her, stripped to the waist, lean and wiry and smiling darkly at her. In his hands was a black flogger; long, thin strips of leather bound in a silvered handle. He balanced it with his hand as he ran his eyes over her lush body. Her breasts were roped upwards and tied against her body. Her nipples were large, her areolae wide and inviting; and such a delicious pink!
K had always felt self-conscious of her breasts, they were beautifully large and shapely, and men always noticed them. In fact, she’d often thought ruefully, it was often the only thing they’d seen in her. She’d tried to hide them, often wearing loose fitting tops, and never showing her cleavage as her friends had done. And now they were brutally exposed, the light blue veins through her translucent skin, the full weight of them bound in soft black rope.
“They say a woman’s libido can be measured by the width of her areola, the larger the diameter, the greater the sex drive, as if she had stronger animal instincts.” He held her chin up so that they looked each other fully in the eyes.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes Sir, I am ready,” She’d learned her first lesson well…

The clamps bit deeply, and she gasped as they first pinched her nipples, and then pulled them as he attached the weights to the connecting chain. The pain was intense and continuous. She practiced her breathing, struggling to retain control, she focused on the stretch in her arms, trying to block out thoughts of her nipples.
“I’m going to flog you now. Do you know what you have to do?”
“Yes Sir”, she nodded, “I have to count the strokes”.
“Exactly so”, he smiled wolfishly at her.
The first blow caught her low on the back, the things wrapping around her slender waist to sting her exposed midriff. She panted, swallowed, and said, “One Sir”.
The second was higher; it caught the underside of her right breast, making her wince and twist. ‘Leeway, Ha!’ there was only enough to squirm under his lashes. The strikes continued, caressing her back and belly with stings. At twelve he paused, smiled again, and said,
“This will hurt….”

The leather straps curled, flashed and landed with a slap across her left nipple. The tears welled in her eyes as she stuttered, ‘thirteen…sir”.
“Louder”, he insisted.
“Thirteen Sir,” she sobbed out.
He paused, “Can you continue?”
Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him, “Yes Sir, I can continue”.
He smiled, “Good, the next will be quicker”. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen and eighteen, all flashed by. She was flogged front and back; her nipples and breasts screamed at her as she shouted her count. They continued, hard and fast, this was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. And the pace continued to increase.
There was nothing but the storm for her. It flashed strikes against her, and it crashed as she continued to shout. Her senses were ablaze, no thoughts, only a crescendo of pain. She clung to her rock of numbers as she crested the wave, threw back her head, and shrieked,”Thirty-six Sir!”
Her head slumped and her body shook as she trembled from the receding waves…

She shook as his teeth bit firmly on the nape of her neck. One hand pulled her hair and head back. Another was at her drenched labia, teasing his way clear. There was the slightest touch on her swollen clitoris and she gasped at the intensity of her reaction. Her neurons were hardwired to her senses and they snapped from pain to pleasure with one flick of his fingers as his hand held himself firmly against her pelvic bone.
She thrust against him, feeling the unyielding strength she thrust deeper. He moved with her, letting her control the speed, but always demanding extra depth. His fingers moved against her inner wall, and the upper ridge of his palm was firm against her clitoris.
She could feel her climax coming on, deepening her breath. Her areolae and nipples were a crimson red and the muscles knotted in her thighs and upper arms as she strained against her bonds.
It came on suddenly, before she’d had time to think, waves of pleasure swept through her. Her back arched and her abdomen pushed and thrust against his hand. Her orgasm filled her, deepening as it echoed and reverberated through her head and heart. She moaned from her soul to the dark…

Her shackles were unlocked, her knees released; and when the ropes slid off her breasts and wrists, she collapsed on to the fleece. She was shaking and her mind was numb. Then, he was there. He caressed and held her as her breathing slowed. Her body stopped trembling as he soothed her shattered nerves. As he felt her return, he lifted her face, oh so tenderly, and she opened her eyes in to his.
There was a world shared between them in that moment. He had tapped in to her core, past her thresholds for sensuality and in to the realms beyond. He had embraced her in her pain and her pleasure, and she was caught like her namesake, a Rabbit caught by her Hunter. She was trapped, and he had caught her…

The dungeon

She moaned again in her blindness. The heavy leather kept her eyes shut against the flickering candles, but her mouth was free and she gasped again as the vibrations changed rhythm. She shifted her position and pushed the vibrator tighter against herself. There was so little give, her head was free, but it hung backwards over the edge of the bench. Her ankles were bound to the roof, black leather shackles kept her legs pulled upwards. Her hands were bound against the side of the leathered bench she lay on. Her body was fixed, three black straps crossed it, one above her breasts, one below them and another tightly bound her midriff.
The bench she lay on was slick with her sweat and juices. The insistent vibrations continued to pulse against her clitoris. Her gasps and pants increased, her breathing deepened and she felt another orgasm coming on. Her skin was slick with sweat; it pooled at her neck and ran down in to her glistening hair. As the orgasm ripped through her, she screamed it to him. His control, her desire, his need and her abandon combined in the darkness…

She had started her torment naked, standing in the darkened dungeon, high in the tower of Jäger’s home. The bench and chains, the cross against the wall and the wall of whips and floggers had terrified her. Her mind would grasp what one could do before another swam before her eyes.
Naked, she’d felt defenseless, and then she was. She’d obeyed all his commands, directly and with pride in what had developed between them. But this was such a deep submission. Her eyes still shone with the sapphire blue of her youth, but they were tempered in silver by the wisdom of what she’d discovered within herself.
He started her on the cross, bound against the wood, he clamped and weighted her nipples and then flogged her unmercifully. After each beating, came the release. He’d sluice her down with warm oil and then tease her in to orgasm. There was a will in the way he controlled her, and her pain and pleasure increased with each session.
Next had been the bench, her ass curved to his hands as she’d held the wooden sides tightly. She still counted for him, and he always checked to make sure she got it right. When she was red and raw he slowed, stopped and caressed her. His tongue brought on her next orgasm, tasting, drinking and reveling in her delicious juices.
Then the blindfold, her chained ankles and her bound body. He waxed her shining skin first, covering her lush breasts with hot liquid. But then the vibrator started, he’d tied it so that it pressed against her. The rhythm changed and moved with her, the harder she pressed, the faster it went…

Slowly her trembling receded. His hands and tongue cleaned the salty liquids from her quivering body.
“Oh God” she gasped. His tongue was flicking against her throbbing maidenhood.
“Could she take more?” she frantically formed the thought before it was swept away in her sensory overload. Tears started, and she sobbed as her body responded once again to him.
But not yet, J took off her blindfold, and looked in to her trembling eyes. He stood behind her, and she could only look at him fully by letting her head drop back. He was naked.
She felt helpless, her mouth open from leaning back and there in front of her eyes, his erect cock. She licked her lips in invitation. There was power in him and she embraced it with longing in her mouth and eyes.
She whispered, “Please…”
Again, that half smile of his, “As you wish.”
She licked his length as he ran it over her face. Her mouth was hungry for him and she squirmed against her restraints to get closer. She wanted to worship him, to take his cock in her and be filled by it. Her questing mouth followed him as he teased them both. Finally he relented…

His two hands held her hair and head. He moved his thumbs to her mouth; she opened it wide and willingly. He slid in. Her mouth and throat were open to him and he moved in slowly, deliberately and relentlessly. One hand moved to her throat, cupping her slender neck firmly, the other held fast to her golden hair, keeping her head fully back and down against the hard wood.
He worked her. Her mouth filled with saliva so that it fell out of her gaping mouth. It covered her face and ran in to her hair. His cock grew larger as she lubricated it with her glands. It ran in and out smoothly as she got it wetter and wetter. He changed his thrusts, sometimes slowly filling her until she gagged on him and sometimes he’d only let the tip enter her as he quickly thrust in to her.
Slowly he moved his engorged head deeper than it had gone before. It pressed down in to her throat and he stopped. His hand massaged her choking throat, and his other held her hair in its iron grip. Her eyes watered as he slowly counted down from ten. She couldn’t breathe and her body arched against its bonds. Even as her legs kicked the chains that held them she heard the last “One” and he withdrew. The tears and saliva covered her beautiful face. But there was no end in sight…

She had become his plaything, trapped in his dungeon, but she knew it was her passions and desires that had truly trapped her. She had entered happily, almost playfully, and now she was his. Her orgasms had given him an intense power over her, her mouth was his to do with as he pleased.
There was nothing but his cock and her mouth. She could feel his orgasm coming on, the taste of salty pre cum in her mouth and the tightening grip of his hands. His primal instincts were taking control, his breathing turned in to bestial noises and she responded by rocking her head against him faster.
It came on quickly, three final thrusts, three final gasps and then his guttural howl as his release came. His cum hit the back of her throat as he orgasmed in her mouth. She swallowed convulsively as the hot liquid continued to flow in to her.
She slurped and swallowed it all, licking his cock clean, and drinking the last drops from him. She smiled up at him. She had felt the shift in the dynamic, and now took the power from him by her submission to him. He withdrew his glistening cock from her mouth, she was a mess but he cleaned and kissed her streaked face. And as he smiled at her she smiled back. He whispered, “Thank you” and her smile grew wider…

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