It's been a week since I was used and discarded like a common whore by Vishal and I've been hoping for his phone call every day since then. I even sleep with the phone switched on for the first time in my life, so as not to miss his call if he calls during the night. It's like I've turned into this needing bitch in heat by his abusing and humiliating me just that one time. I can't explain or reason through it, it's just something primal that makes my whole body yearn to be dominated by his silky voice and his smouldering eyes. I don't understand what he's done to me. But whatever it is, it has me firmly in its grip and I'm enjoying it. I've masturbated so many times just thinking about that night and how he used me. My work is suffering as I become extremely short tempered from frustration as the days go by.

I snap at my cousin and roommate and we almost come to a fight a few times through the week due to my unreasonable behaviour. I try every way I know to get the sexual frustration out of my system but nothing works. So I spend my days like a caged lioness, snapping and growling at everything and everyone. The phone call, when it comes, stokes my frustration instead of dampening it. "Come to my place tonight, at seven," Vishal says and hangs up. He calls early on in the morning and the whole day, I wander around wondering what he has planned for me. I work myself up to an edge by the time seven rolls around and I knock on his door. I feel like one look from him and I'll cum. His eyes hold up to the promise as he answers the door and he looks me up and down. Shivers run through my frame as my pussy clenches and ecstasy runs through my veins. "Very nice," he comments, taking in the dress I bought just for the occasion. It's a classic black dress in a clingy fabric, falling over my curves to just below my knee. Coupled with black strappy heels and my hair worn loose, I know I look hot. I walk into his apartment and pause at the threshold of the sitting room. "Straight through to the bedroom," he directs.

Of course. He makes it clear that I am here for one reason and one reason alone. I walk through into the bedroom with him right behind me. When I'm in there, I notice the thick rope on the bed and my heart starts thumping crazily. I've never been tied and the scene before me suddenly has me deathly afraid. I feel draining out of my face and I turn back to him. "What is this?" I ask. "I'm going to tie your breasts up," he says calmly. I stare at him and try to speak but nothing comes out. This is a fear of mine. Being helpless and at the mercy of someone else. I am fiercely independent and even though I like sex, every situation I get into is through my own choice. I cannot believe having that choice taken away from me. 'But wasn't that what happened the last time?' a voice within me pipes up. It was so hot and satisfying and humiliating because I was obeying his every command and taking his abuse like I would die without it. 'But that was my choice,' I scream at the dissenting voice.

It was my choice entirely to let him do anything to me. I could have up and left or screamed or fought him off anytime I wanted. 'Who are you kidding?' the voice replies. I face the truth. I was his slut because he made me into one and treated me like his whore. It was all his doing. I was just at his mercy and I loved it, that's why I'm here like a needy bitch again just to take the same abuse from him. "Strip and move into position, slut," he says. I peel the dress off my body and take my panties off. I wasn't wearing a bra so I'm completely naked in seconds, but my heels remain on. I move to the edge of the bed and kneel. He comes up behind me and picks up the rope. He runs it around my chest, just above the breasts and loops it back to run it around just under my breasts again. He does this a couple of times, tightening the bonds, making them snug but not hurting. He then runs the rope over my shoulder to between my breasts and loops it around the horizontal bands he had made.

He pulls it tight and my breasts are squeezed painfully with the rope. I clench my pussy tightly and moan. "It hurts, please," I whisper. He pauses and strokes my cheek. "It's meant to hurt, whore," he replies and goes back to his ministrations. Looping the rope through the middle of the bands tightly, he again runs it back over my other shoulder and secures it in a knot in the back. Then he ties my hands behind my back together lightly, just to bar me from touching anything. My breasts are squeezed and protruding from the bondage like two overripe squashed grapefruits but my nipples are rock hard and extended to almost an inch off my body. The constant pressure on my breasts is making me wet and horny like nothing else and I am going mad with desire. Vishal has disappeared and I look around and then slowly bend my torso to the bed to brush one of my nipples against the bed sheet. A shock runs through my body, straight from my nipple to my cunt and I moan. "Stop playing with yourself, bitch, or I'll throw you on the ground and slap you senseless," Vishal orders as he enters the room. He comes up to me and shows me what he has in his hands.

He is holding up two wooden clothespins. I look at them in horror. If he clips those to my breasts or nipples, they will explode. My breasts are already so swollen with the slowed flow and the pressure and my nipples are so engorged that just a light brush earlier was enough to arouse me. If he stuck the clothespins on them, I would just burst. I start to whimper and he smiles, looking deep into my eyes. "Oh, yes, this will be fun," he says. He reaches, slowly, to my nipple, prolonging my dread and then gently clips the clothespin to the protruding stub. I start sobbing from the pain. He clips the other one to the other nipple and moves back, looking at me critically. "Pretty," he pronounces. He advances a finger and flicks the clothespins, tweaking my nipples painfully. I weep out. "Come on now. No reason to weep," he says and traces a finger over my swollen breast. "How will you take the rest if you start weeping now itself," he asks softly, menacingly. Fear and helpless tears fill my eyes as I look at him, but down between my legs, I feel my juices flowing profusely. I can't deny that I am shamelessly aroused by his power and control over me.

I have never been on edge like this for so long before in my life and as his fingers wander over my bloated breast lightly, I feel like I can cum just from the feeling lone. Suddenly he gives me a sharp slap on my breast. I struggle to hold my weep in but it escapes from between my lips in a long low animalistic sound and dissolves into small sobs as his hands go back to caressing me. Tears are running down my face by this time. He reaches out and puts a couple of fingers in my mouth, running them around and brushing my gums. Opening my mouth wide, he pumps them in and out a few times and then pulls my lips out, holding them between his fingers. I am entirely at his mercy. He grabs the rope between my breasts and pulls. "Walk," he orders. I walk on my knees as he leads me to the other side of the bed and sits down on the edge. He holds my upper arms and orders me to get up. When I'm standing, he pulls me down to position me over his lap carefully, facedown. I'm lying with my bound breasts hanging down and the position causes the pain in them to intensify. I can feel them inflated and full and ready to burst. His hard cock is pressing against my stomach and he's running his hands over my exposed bottom. "I'm going to spank you, whore," he says softly. "First, with my bare hand...." He brings his palm down with a sharp smack on my ass cheek.

I bite my lip as arousal fills me and mixes with the pounding through the temples of my hanging head. "...then, when I've got the shape of my fingers imprinted on this pretty plump bottom..." Slap! "...I will shift to something a little more..." Slap! "...painful." God! What could be more painful? More than his actions, he's fucking with my mind. Fear, anticipation and a little bit of anger run through me simultaneously. But uppermost in my mind is the awareness of every part of my throbbing and ready traitorous body and my shameful arousal to his humiliation and abuse. He has me where he wants me... and I'm panting with need and want for more of the same. He's gently stroking his hand over my bottom now, murmuring softly. "I love submissive bitches like you who crave sex. You want to be fucked hard, hmmm?" His hand is now seeking between my ass cheeks, spreading them and dipping in to finger my pussy. It is so hot and wet for his hand but I know not to thrust myself at him greedily, because that will mean punishment. Oh yes, he has trained me well. His fingers are now probing at my pussy lips, spreading them and slipping in. he rubs a couple of fingers against my wetness, just lazily spreading the wetness around. "So wet," he says. "So ready to be fucked." Suddenly he pulls his fingers out and rains down a series of sharp wet smacks all across my ass. His other hand finds the clothespin on one of my swinging breasts and wrenches it off. I scream.

He pushes my legs apart, spreads my cunt and inserts three of his fingers into me harshly. He plunders my soft pussy, running his fingers in and roughly, in an effort to hurt me. "Don't scream, bitch, or I'll gag you. I already told you that the last time you were making some noise, didn't I?" he grunts harshly. His fingers are sending a painful fire up the soft walls of my vagina. "Yes, yes, you told me... I'm sorry I screamed. I won't do it again, I swear," I plead. Anything to get his hand out of my burning cunt. The ravaging inside me slows and stops. He pulls his hand out and starts pinching my butt. His digs his nails in to scour my soft flesh and kneads it severely. When my ass is sore and aching from his assault, only then does he stop and run his palm gently over my burning flesh.