Aujla: The first dance

"Strip and stand in the centre."

 For a brief moment, I hesistated, my mind struggling to comprehend the unfolding situation.

"Don't make me ask you again, slave." His commanding voice dripped with authority as he growled.

"But..."

The ferocious intensity in his eyes only deepened as his expression darkened. Rising from his seat, he strode towards me with the determination of a predator, ready to pounce. In one swift motion, he threw me to the floor, ripping my clothes apart with a raw force that echoed throughout the room. The sound of fabric rending filled the air as he discarded the remnants of my attire, leaving me vulnerable and exposed to his dominance.



With a firm grip, he seized the front of my throat, his fingers tightening their hold, and dragged me forcefully to the centre of the room. He skillfully bound my hands together as he effortlessly removed his belt, a symbol of his power. The ceiling hook became my anchor, my feet barely grazing the floor, a helpless captive at his mercy.

"Let's see how you handle your first punishment," he taunted, his words laced with a mix of anticipation and control.

Powerless and entranced, I watched as he retrieved a flogger. Leather strands crackled through the air as he stood before me, a conductor orchestrating a symphony of pain and pleasure, unleashing a series of strikes against my bare breast. I winced and gasped, desperate to stifle my cries, only to fuel his his insatiable desire as he intensified his strikes, relentlessly pushing me harder and closer to the edge. The impact of each lash built upon the previous, building a crescendo of sensations that consumed me entirely, until I couldn't hold it in any longer, my screams reverberating throughout the room.

"P...please, Master," I begged, my voice trembling with pain, "It hurts."

A sinister smile curled upon his lip emanating delight, as he flogged me once more, the strikes even more intense than before. The leather strands lashed against my flesh, leaving their mark upon my breasts, thighs, and back. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I struggled to take in the searing pain.



"Please, Master," I pleaded once again, my voice filled with desperation, "Stop, please, have mercy. I'll be good. I'll do anything you want."

He chuckled, his amusement evident as he responded, "You'll do whatever I want anyway, slave. This is a lesson in manners."

I could see the sadistic pleasure dancing in his eyes as he continued to flog my shivering body, relishing in every whimper and scream that escaped my lips, resistance futile. Lashes painted contrasting red welts upon my quivering pale skin, and tears poured freely down my face. A momentary pause followed, during which he admired his handiwork, as if I were his masterpiece.

He stroked my burning skin with the flogger, as the pain slowly subsided, replaced by a touch that both soothed and ignited a new wave of sensations of peculiar pleasure. It all feels so surreal, confusing and enticing me, captivated by the intoxicating power play unfolding before me, as I struggled to understand how I could find enjoyment in such degradation and torment. Master, seemingly attuned to my thoughts, suddenly whipped my sex.  

Agony coursed through me, eliciting whimpers and screams that once again filled the room, as I succumbed to the exhilarating dance of dominance and submission. He repeated the act again and again, until I reached a climax that tore through me, shattering my senses to the symphony of pleasure and pain. I squirmed and writhed, my moans mingling with satisfaction as my vision blurred into white. Every fiber of my being trembled and convulsed, as the agony transformed into a euphoric, orgasmic bliss. 



"Do you like getting punished, little one?"

"Look at you, soaked and pathetic. You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

A mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty washed over me as I pressed my lips together. Unsure how to respond, I turned away, only to be greeted by the servant, kneeling silently in the corner. I shifted my focus to the ground, unwilling to meet his smirking gaze. But my escape was short-lived as Master's hand wrapped around my throat, gripping firmly as he drew my face closer to his own. 

"Answer me, slut," he demanded, "Are you enjoying this?" 

I swallowed hard, summoning the courage to respond, as a lump formed in my throat. "Y-yes, Master," I managed to utter, my voice barely audible.

His grin widened, pleased at my admission. His fingers traced along my jaw before the flogging resumed abruptly. Strikes rained upon my sex and bottom intermittently, each blow eliciting shame and leaving me a sobbing, trembling mess. Finally, he released the chain that held me captive, and I tumbled to the ground, my body weary and marked. 

"Such a natural," Master remarked, his words cutting through the air and his tone resonating with delight. "But still, you will require a lot of training to become a proper slave."