Learning to Trust Part 2: Full Submission Read Online Free
Author: B. B. Roman
like that. This was like a doctor's office. It was the most unflattering light ever.
"No, Sir," I said. "I... can't."
A look of distress broke across his face. "Ah, pet. I don't think you totally understand this relationship. I am in charge—and you take my orders. I gave you a chance, but you blew it. Now you must face punishment ."
"P-p-p-punishment?" I asked. I wanted to run away, but his eyes kept me frozen to the ground.
"Give me your wrist," he demanded.
"No!" I shouted.
"Fine, then we'll just have it that way." He lurched at me, grabbing me and bringing me to the nearby table. His force was incredible. I fought, but I couldn't do a thing to break his grip.
"Roland!" I screamed.
"Stop screaming , now! You're only going to make it worse for yourself." He took my hand and strapped it down tightly to the table. My other free hand followed; suddenly I was unable to move my hands, pulling at the straps, feeling that leather burn against my skin. Why had I let him tie me up ? Surely I could have fought harder, right ?
He was no longer in my view. By the time I realized where he was, he had clamped restraints around my ankles. That was it—I was stuck facing the table, my hands attached to it, my legs to the floor. I fought for a few moments, venting my frustration through my limited physical movement. I groaned, the pain of my efforts only makin g the whole situation worse.
"Please calm down," he said, his words calm and cool. "Struggling only makes it worse."
Struggling only makes it worse.
Damnit! I felt like I was in the middle of a serial killer film, the victim of a sadistic man who would eventually kill me—but didn't want to cause me any additional pain right now. How noble !
I stopped wiggling about and looked at him seriously. "Please, Roland. Let me go."
He walked up behind me, so close that I could feel his breath against my ear. I shivered as it danced against my skin like silk. "I'm going to punish you one way or another. Every time you complain, you only make it worse. Every time you fight me, you make it worse. So, please, don't make me do more than I have to. You'll understand soon enough." His wh ispers burned inside of me with a consistency, so slowly and surely.
Roland slid his hand into the front of my jeans and released the button. He pulled them down abruptly, like a magician droppin g a curtain to reveal the conclusion to his trick. His calloused fingers rubbed against my skin, rough yet gentle, wanted yet unwanted. "Such a lovely ass," he remarked to himself. "So plump and soft. Probably so sensitive too." He pulled down my panties, leaving them to sit on my bunched up jeans. I felt totally exposed, closing my eyes as I leaned against the soft platform. He was eyeing me like a piece of prey, deciding just exactly how he wanted to feast.
His fingers pinched my cheeks, feeling them, exploring them, pressing them together like it was the first ass he'd ever touched. I felt so chubby and disgusting, way more self-conscious than I'd ever felt before. I wished that he wasn't seeing me like that.
"My pet, you're so beautiful. You have a beautiful body. You ought not be ashamed of it. You're blushing so hard I feel you might break ," he said, chuckling.
I had been naked in front of partners before—but not in a long time, and never like this. Yet, his words started to break through my hardened emo tional exterior and ease away the dissatisfaction with myself. I could tell that he was being totally genuine, that he really liked me . He was making me feel a warmth that was slowly trickling down my body toward my core.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, pet. I don't like it one bit, but you must learn the rules. Trust me, it could be much worse than this."
He struck me with a large wooden paddle, sending needles of pain all throughout my body. I screamed, surprised by the sudden shock. I felt tears welling up in my eyes again. When he struck me again, I realized I w ouldn't be able to contain
"No, Sir," I said. "I... can't."
A look of distress broke across his face. "Ah, pet. I don't think you totally understand this relationship. I am in charge—and you take my orders. I gave you a chance, but you blew it. Now you must face punishment ."
"P-p-p-punishment?" I asked. I wanted to run away, but his eyes kept me frozen to the ground.
"Give me your wrist," he demanded.
"No!" I shouted.
"Fine, then we'll just have it that way." He lurched at me, grabbing me and bringing me to the nearby table. His force was incredible. I fought, but I couldn't do a thing to break his grip.
"Roland!" I screamed.
"Stop screaming , now! You're only going to make it worse for yourself." He took my hand and strapped it down tightly to the table. My other free hand followed; suddenly I was unable to move my hands, pulling at the straps, feeling that leather burn against my skin. Why had I let him tie me up ? Surely I could have fought harder, right ?
He was no longer in my view. By the time I realized where he was, he had clamped restraints around my ankles. That was it—I was stuck facing the table, my hands attached to it, my legs to the floor. I fought for a few moments, venting my frustration through my limited physical movement. I groaned, the pain of my efforts only makin g the whole situation worse.
"Please calm down," he said, his words calm and cool. "Struggling only makes it worse."
Struggling only makes it worse.
Damnit! I felt like I was in the middle of a serial killer film, the victim of a sadistic man who would eventually kill me—but didn't want to cause me any additional pain right now. How noble !
I stopped wiggling about and looked at him seriously. "Please, Roland. Let me go."
He walked up behind me, so close that I could feel his breath against my ear. I shivered as it danced against my skin like silk. "I'm going to punish you one way or another. Every time you complain, you only make it worse. Every time you fight me, you make it worse. So, please, don't make me do more than I have to. You'll understand soon enough." His wh ispers burned inside of me with a consistency, so slowly and surely.
Roland slid his hand into the front of my jeans and released the button. He pulled them down abruptly, like a magician droppin g a curtain to reveal the conclusion to his trick. His calloused fingers rubbed against my skin, rough yet gentle, wanted yet unwanted. "Such a lovely ass," he remarked to himself. "So plump and soft. Probably so sensitive too." He pulled down my panties, leaving them to sit on my bunched up jeans. I felt totally exposed, closing my eyes as I leaned against the soft platform. He was eyeing me like a piece of prey, deciding just exactly how he wanted to feast.
His fingers pinched my cheeks, feeling them, exploring them, pressing them together like it was the first ass he'd ever touched. I felt so chubby and disgusting, way more self-conscious than I'd ever felt before. I wished that he wasn't seeing me like that.
"My pet, you're so beautiful. You have a beautiful body. You ought not be ashamed of it. You're blushing so hard I feel you might break ," he said, chuckling.
I had been naked in front of partners before—but not in a long time, and never like this. Yet, his words started to break through my hardened emo tional exterior and ease away the dissatisfaction with myself. I could tell that he was being totally genuine, that he really liked me . He was making me feel a warmth that was slowly trickling down my body toward my core.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, pet. I don't like it one bit, but you must learn the rules. Trust me, it could be much worse than this."
He struck me with a large wooden paddle, sending needles of pain all throughout my body. I screamed, surprised by the sudden shock. I felt tears welling up in my eyes again. When he struck me again, I realized I w ouldn't be able to contain
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