I stand there, cum on my pants and shaking with shame. I can’t believe I came from just one kiss, even if it was the best kiss of my life. I expect her to laugh, jeer, insult my manhood. Instead, she smiles warmly.

“We’re not done,” she says getting up from her chair. As she gets closer, her spicy scent causes a stir of arousal in my cock which still stands at half-mast.

The orgasm did not diminish my arousal. In fact, it might have just heightened it by giving me a taste of what could be.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm Knox?” she asks, reaching out and trailing one finger down the middle of my chest. I jerk back. I don’t trust myself to not come again if she touches me.

“It’s been a while,” I tell her, after clearing my throat.

She notes my action with a wink, then leans her top half forward and says, “Well, Knox, typically, in our games you don’t get to come until I tell you to. It’s just bad manners. Usually, I would punish you, but since you’re new here, I’ll forgive you.”

She eyes me from underneath her lashes. She seems to be waiting for an answer.

“Thank you,” I say and she grins.

“How polite. You will need some more…home training though.”

I swallow. My cock is already fully erect once more, and her exotic eyes drop to it. God, she’s incredible. I want to drop on my knees and beg to worship every inch of her body. I want to be her slave, her toy, used for her pleasure. All the pleas are at the tip of my tongue, but I don’t let any of them loose. I have no right to demand anything of her. She’s the one in control here.

“Take off your clothes,” she orders. Her tone is as firm as her expression is soft.

I bring my shaking hands to my pants, unbuttoning them. The sound of the zipper descending in the silence has my heart racing, raising my anticipation for what is to come.

When I take the last article of clothing off, she scans me. Her eyes are like a phantom touch, and I feel my cock jerk.

She licks her lips when it does. “I love how responsive you are. Makes it all the more exciting to train you. Go lay down there.”

She gestures with her chin to a slab of oak at the side of the room and I obey.

The table is cool against my back when I lay down. She moves my limbs around until I’m lying spread-eagled, then she fastens handcuffs around my ankles and wrists that are attached to the table. Perhaps I should feel confined, but the chafing around my wrists and the feeling of being held down is so damn arousing I can’t even think.

The kiss is replaying in my head; the memory of her taste as our tongues dueled in my mouth, her forceful hands against the back of my head.

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

She walks back into my field of vision and I watch her as she works. She’s so beautiful, long curly hair, curves like a backroad, those feline eyes. I want to kiss her again, badly. I want to taste every inch of her body, worship it, and then I want her to possess me.

She places one hand on my naked chest, and I shiver.

She smiles. “Alright, Knox. Unfortunately, I don’t have any cock rings your size, so we have to do this the old-fashioned way.” She holds up what looks like a little pink ribbon, dangling it in the air close enough to whisper against my cock.

God. My erection throbs and I feel precum escape at the top. The silk of the ribbon is its own special type of torture as she laces it around my cock, so tightly that the bite of pain has me groaning out.

“Too much?” she asks.

“No,” I say. It’s perfect. She’s perfect.

I knew she would be from the moment I first saw her all those months ago in the grocery store. She exuded so much power, so much grace, I was instantly drawn to her. I couldn’t work up the nerve to speak to her then and kicked myself after. Then, by coincidence, I happened upon the club and found out she works here. Since then, I’ve been waiting for this moment, jacking off to her more times than I could count.

I almost changed my mind when I came in and saw her. She’s breathtaking, too good for me.

Yet here she is anyway, trailing her fingers down my chest. Her tongue comes out and circles my areola, the wet heat skimming my nipples, stealing my breath. I don’t usually have sensation in my nipples, but Catya makes my entire body an erogenous zone.

Then she bites down on the nub ever so slightly and my hips involuntarily thrust.

“Do you want to know my nickname Knox?” she asks, before licking to soothe the bite.

I’m too busy squirming under her tongue to answer but she continues talking anyway, in between little licks.

“It’s lioness. Because much like a cat, I like to bite.” Lick. “And nip.” Lick. “And sometimes scratch things that are mine. I like a little pain in my play. You indicated on the form that you liked pain too, but I want to hear it from your lips. Are you amenable to a little biting, scratching, and nipping?”

“Yes,” I gasp out. The images in my head are going haywire, and my arousal is through the roof. “God yes.” I’m amenable to everything she does to me. I want to be hers totally and completely.

She bites me then on the other nipple and I grunt. She smirks, then moves on to kiss the middle of my chest, before biting it. Her teeth are sharp, and she glances at me with her cat-like eyes, while she rakes them down to my abdomen, down to my cock, currently red and weeping in its bondage.

Catya leans back to survey it.

“You look like you’re in pain,” she comments.

I am. My body is on fire but it’s a pain I crave.

She comes forward and licks me like she’s following a path, running her tongue from one side to the other. I groan. She also licks the sensitive ring separating the head from the stalk. Then she puts her lips around the head and sucks experimentally, with just a hint, a promise of teeth.

The whole time, her honey-colored gaze is on me.

Everything- her eyes, her light touch, the lack of control-is too much. Her nails come out to rake my nipples and I jerk again. I try to take in deep breaths. I shake with the effort to hold myself together, ass cheeks clenched, and I almost want to move away to stop the torment, so I don’t lose my mind.

But I know I’m going to anyway.

I don’t know what to do how to act or what to do. I can’t even move besides squirming because my hands and feet are tied. I want to shoot off, but there isn’t enough sensation and everything is held back by the band. At first, it’s all too unbearable; the feelings, the cocktail of pleasure and pain, the overwhelming urge to come. I want to beg her to please let me come, but this feels like a test. I don’t want to fail, so I hold it back, using every muscle, every strength in my body to resist. I hold back for so long that I dissociate from myself and everything in the room fades away.

My mind is flying high, and I don’t want to come down. She tortures me for so long that I enter a space where nothing else exists, just this torturous sensation- her tongue, my cock, and the delicious pain.

It’s not until I hear her voice calling out my name that I come back.

“Huh?” I say, her face coming back into focus.

“Oh good. I thought I lost you for a minute there. Were you in sub-space?”

Sub space? I have read about it in my investigations of this lifestyle, but I never thought I would actually get there.

“I think so.” I gasp out as she squeezes her hand around my cock, and everything I’ve been trying to block out comes rushing back.

“You’ve been out for at least a few minutes. I just wanted to check in to see if you were still with me or if you need to use your safe word.”

“Not a chance.”

She caresses my cock and I feel like jumping out of my skin. It’s like she’s touching an open wound. I look down and see my cock, veined and angrier than I’ve ever seen. My lower body is straining towards her and I wasn’t even aware of it.

“Do you want to come Knox?” she asks.

Yes. I can’t bear it anymore, even though I know coming will mean the end of this thing we have. That it will mean that I will have to walk out of here.

With a quick movement of her hand, she releases the band, and a scream rips out of my throat. I feel my body jolt and quiver, feel my limbs pulling at their bindings. I want to shut my eyes as the surge of pain and pleasure overwhelms me, but I manage to keep my eyes open. I want to watch her watching me. Her eyes darken and she licks her lips as she watches me thrash on the table. The orgasm is there, but it’s stuck behind a barrier I don’t understand. I need something…something else….

“Oh yes,” she moans. “Come all over yourself.”

Just like that, the band snaps. Sand scours my mind and I’m babbling out senseless words, words of affection, words of submission, words I don’t even comprehend. She watches me as I spurt out jet after jet of cum.

Seconds later, I’m still jerking on the table when she comes over to smooth my hair back. I turn instinctively into her touch.

“Good boy,” she says. “See? I didn’t even have to touch you for you to come.”

I nod, and enjoy the feeling of her running her hands through my hair. Even though I know I only have her for this pocket of time.

​

She already owns me.

Hi all! This is part two of the story I posted yesterday. I have more short stories on my Patreon where I'm also writing a femdom themed fantasy erotic web novel. As a ghostwriter by day (I write very generic romance novels) I wanted to use this opportunity to explore if writing femdom (which is what I really enjoy writing) is markettable because I was told by editors that it was not. I think they're wrong and this is my little experiment to prove it. Hope you enjoy!