Compliance by P.A. Jones
As the story opens, two people start their day in very different ways. A submissive is woken early by the sting of his mistress’s riding crop, forced to serve her and locked into his dungeon. Later that day, young dominatrix Mary heads for work in the afternoon looking forward to making her first client beg for mercy.
‘Compliance’ tells the intertwining stories of these two as they inevitably come together. The submissive’s story is driven by his mistress as she breaks him to her will; branding him with her mark in a shocking public performance and showing off her newly learned skills as she tortures him for the amusement of her friends. Locked in chastity, he learns that his desire no longer belongs to him, it is wholly hers. And yet, is this really all she wants from him, just his compliance?
Mary is taken under the wing of disdainful Mistress Vixen and trained to work for her, using her long legs and elegantly muscled arms to dominate Vixen’s clients with her cheerful brutality. If she enjoys having them crawl at her feet so much, why is she so restless?
Into their stories wanders young beautician Frankie. Not knowing Vixen’s profession she describes her boyfriend troubles and gets a lesson on how to take control of a man - a lesson that she and her boyfriend will never forget.
As their stories come together in the hills of Wellington, will the slave find what his mistress wants from him and will Mary discover what she is looking for?
Includes: tease and orgasm denial, waxing, caning, female domination, humiliation, electro stimulation, chastity devices, ruined orgasm, branding and more
He was dreaming he was fucking her, she was whispering in his ear asking him to touch her but he couldn’t move his arms; he was frozen. As he got closer to climaxing she was getting angrier and angrier and he struggled as hard as he could to put his hands between her legs but nothing moved. Just as he was on the edge of coming there was an atrocious pain in his cock. He woke choking and gasping, trying to curl up around the pain and hold on to what he could of the fading pleasure but even outside his dream he couldn’t move. As his head cleared he remembered where he was; stretched across the foot of her bed with his wrists and ankles chained to the posts. She was standing over him in her nightgown looking cross and with her riding crop raised.
“Wake up! What are you thinking? I want that cock.”
He lay still trying not to whimper. She took hold of his cock and he felt the lube on her hand - she had been stroking him while he slept. She hit him again making him scream through his gag.
“Awake now?” she smiled grimly at him.
He nodded as hard as he could and tried to beg through his gag.
“I’m not so sure. Shall we make certain? I think we will,” she said, her smile getting a little more cruel. She stroked his cock with her lubed hand and raised her whip as she watched his face. His begging got more insistent. She waited.
“Shut up,” she said striking at his cock. He jerked against his chains but managed to stay quiet.
“Good. Now let me get to my cock,” she said, dropping her whip on the bed.
It was morning, the curtains had been opened and the room was full of light. Her leg was braced against his thigh so she could reach him with both hands and he lay still to feel the pleasure of her warmth against him after the cold night on top of the bed. Quickly her hands on his cock overwhelmed the pain from her whip and his erection grew. As soon as she felt it was hard enough she climbed over him on to the bed, straddling his legs then shifted over him, pulled her nightdress over her head, dropping it next to the whip, and guided his cock into herself. As it slid in she shuddered and arched her back, close to orgasm. She had been stroking herself as well while he slept and watching him struggle and beg as she whipped him had brought her right to the edge. He moved under her, trying to match her movements despite the awkwardness of being tied, but she put a hand firmly on his chest and said, "Don't move. Just lie still."
She increased her pace, roughly bucking up and down on him, bracing herself with the hand leaning her full weight on his chest, reaching under herself with the other hand to find her clitoris and leaning forward to feel his cock against it. She arched her head back, lower lip tucked between her teeth, her breath coming in short gasps.
He closed his eyes so he couldn't see her breasts swinging in front of him, almost touching his face. They were filmed in a sheen of sweat and the nipples were big and hard, so tight the aureoles were wrinkling. He concentrated desperately on not coming. Just as he was sure he couldn't hold on any longer she peaked, collapsing on to him with a series of short cries and a long back-arching shudder. His cock was twitching inside her, but he had managed not to come. She felt him move in her and smiled.
"Good boy, that’s much better. Awake now?" she asked as she quickly got off him, still breathing heavily and brushing her hair out of her eyes. She left the bedroom, picking up the sheer nightdress and pulling her robe over it. The cats had been watching from the doorway. One of them jumped up on the bed, sniffed him and followed her out, stepping daintily over the whip that had fallen on the floor. He could hear them asking her for food out in the kitchen.
He lay where she had so abruptly left him, his cock still so hard it felt tight in its skin, burning from her whipping, wet with her juices and dribbling pre-come. His mouth was dry with the desire to come. With his wrists and ankles still tied, he couldn't touch himself. He could have rolled onto his stomach and tried to rub himself on the bed cover, but when she found the mess, her disappointment more than her anger would be too much to face. He forced his back into the covers until the sharp intensity of his need faded and he felt his cock slowly soften. Not his cock, hers, as she had said.