He took a look at the woman in front of him with an appraising eye. She was young, perhaps 20 or so. Shins tucked under tight thighs, making the muscles strain as she kneeled in front of me. The golden brown curls obscured the center of her body, but he knew it would be nothing short of beautiful, like the rest of her. Her stomach was neither padded nor muscled, but a happy medium of a woman who did not push herself too hard at the gym. Her breasts were perfect, a sizeable C with small, perked roses at the tips. The lines of her neck were elegant, but mostly covered by the cascading dark blonde curls. She wore Tiffany's at her earlobes and the deep red of her lips had clearly been painted on very meticulously that morning. Oh what pleasure he was going to take in smearing it all over her lovely face. Her eyes were closed defiantly, but he knew them to be a clear blue color. Everything about her screamed class and good breeding, even the stylish dark purple color on her short fingernails, now hidden behind her back as her hands were bound there. Her makeup was minimal and tasteful.
His heart raced. There was something so intoxicating about taking a stranger.
It had been established, while she was being undressed, that no one could hear her scream, so she no longer tried to be heard. She just knelt in the position he had placed her in, frightened but too stubborn to show it.
He glanced over at the forgotten clothing piled into the corner of the dank, cement room. He had immensely enjoyed the struggle of removing the exquisite pieces of clothing one by one. Most of them had had labels that even he, as a self-respecting man's man, had known—Prada, Gucci. The horribly ugly things women in magazines wore.
Her cries of protest and wiggling body could not have been faked—he'd acted in domination porn before, and he found that when the woman was expecting to be dominated, she didn't put up as good of a fight because she wanted it. This woman had clearly never been dominated in her life, and she most certainly didn't want it.
The cameraman to the side of the room gave him the signal, so he took a step forward. He leaned down and grabbed a fistful of that dark blonde hair and tilted her head back. Her eyes instantly flew open and narrowed in rage as they focused on the 8" cock before her face.
Despite the things that had already happened to her as the unwilling participant of this film, she'd yet to see his cock until now. Her ass was a vibrant red from the whip and his rough hand, her hands fought the ropes behind her back, and not five minutes before, he'd managed to cram three whole fingers into her pussy. The worst part had been that those fingers hadn't needed synthetic lubrication. She'd been wet.
That made her the most angry.
With his other hand, the one that wasn't tangled in her hair, he rolled the nipple clamps until he had a good grip on one between his thumb and forefinger. He made her tilt back her head so she could not look as he squeezed the end and placed it carefully around her swollen nipple. She cried out as the jolt of pain coursed through her and tried to move away, but the hand in her hair held her firmly in place. He placed the other clamp on her other nipple just as carefully, but the recoil was not as violent since she expected it this time.
She was the best submissive type—she wanted it but wouldn't admit it. She'd fight him until the bitter end, but still cum.
He tugged at the chain connecting the clamps and grinned as she writhed. He let go of her hair and turned on his heel, glancing over his shoulder as she felt his absence but did not try to move. In fact, she could not move. He'd taken thigh cuffs and, instead of slipping her hand through the free loop, had attached it around her shins. If she tried to move, she'd just fall over and by now, she knew it displeased him greatly.
From the wall, he selected several small weights to hang from the clamp chain. He glanced at the other toys on the wall with a smile. Dildos of mostly larger sizes, whips, vibrators, ball gags, cock gags, buttplugs... They were for later.
Returning to her, he placed the weights on chain and gave it another tug to make sure it would not move. She cried out again and closed her eyes to the pain, but he grabbed her again by the hair.
"Look at me, Bitch."
