Elena removed her clothes quickly and threw them into a pile, her mind clear as she knelt. She put her head down and looked at the floor, ready to submit to Michael. With her head down, she did not see where Michael retrieved the rope, but she smiled to herself to see how much rope Michael had, even on his jet. She was surprised at how rough the rope was against her skin.
“Hands behind you,” he ordered and Elena obeyed. Michael pulled the rope tight around her wrists and she whimpered.
“I could have lost you,” he said again as she knelt there and he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back. His hands were rough and she gasped, but she wanted to give him her submission totally.
“Hurt me,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“I will,” he said. He reached down and pinched her nipple until she moaned. Then he pinched her harder.
Michael blindfolded her with a piece of fabric and the sensation was disorienting. She could feel the plane move beneath her and without her sight, she became more acutely aware of every other sensation.
Elena felt the rough rope against her breasts as Michael circled the sensitive flesh. He pulled the rope tightly, making a harness that Elena could not see but which she could definitely feel. Her breasts felt heavy and when Michael pinched them, she shrieked.
Michael pushed her forward and without her hands to brace herself, she landed with her face pressed against the carpet. Her breasts pressed against the floor and she tried to twist herself into a more comfortable position, but it was not possible. Her ass was thrust lewdly into the air and she felt awkward, on display and helpless – just as she needed to feel.
Elena felt a sharp strike against her ass and she nearly jumped up. There was no warm up, just the sting and she cried out. She had no idea what he was using, but whatever it was stung and though Elena tried to hold still, she couldn’t help but try to move out of the way. Michael struck her again and again and it hurt, but she tried to absorb the pain.
The pain and the darkness made Elena afraid but she also trusted Michael and the trust was essential. She trusted him to not go too far, to use her and to take care of her as well.
“Fuck them,” Michael said, the anger still evident in his voice and though Elena knew he wasn’t angry at her, the sound still made her tremble.
“Fuck them,” Elena said, anger in her own voice, but Michael did not respond. She wished that she could see his face, but not being able to see definitely enhanced the sensations. The strikes were coming faster and harder now and Elena whimpered and moaned.
Elena pulled against the ropes that held her wrists, certain that she was making quite a picture for Michael to see. She squirmed and though she was not bound to anything, she tried to keep still. The implement Michael was using was making that very difficult for her.
“Hold still,” he admonished, his voice still cold and the reminder made Elena blush. She was certain that her face was just as red and her ass must be and she also knew that her cunt was wet.
She tried to make herself open and available to him. To Michael. Her love.
Elena had no idea was he was using on her, but she cried out from the sting. She tried to hold it in so he wouldn’t know how much it hurt. Surely he had to know how it hurt her, but she bit her lip, trying to hold in the pain.
“I want to hear you, slut,” Michael said and Elena felt her pussy drip from those words. His words. His voice. It was all perfect. She was so wet, almost painfully so. There was no hiding that from Michael and she loved that.
Again and again he struck her and Elena cried out, her screams muffled by the carpet beneath her. “It hurts,” she cried. It also felt good, though, to be able to tell Michael how she felt.
“It’s supposed to,” he said. “Your wet cunt isn’t protesting, is it?”
“No,” she said. The evidence was dripping down her legs. Her ass felt as though it was bright red and her heavy breasts were pressed against the carpet.
“No, Sir,” he said, striking her again, as though a reprimand.
“No, Sir,” Elena replied. She liked the way the word sounded coming from her mouth and it made her feel even more submissive.
“Better,” he said. “I want you to call me ‘Sir’. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” Elena said. She could feel tears welling up behind the blindfold, tears that she needed to release. She knew that the release she needed wasn’t just physical, though – it was also intensely mental.
Elena felt the stinging stop and she was thankful for the brief respite. Michael rubbed his hands over her ass, his hands feeling cool against her warm, tortured flesh. “You look good in red, don’t you, slut?”