JB4S: The Transfer (Part 4)

[Ha****]

I stand before the woman kneeling on the floor, my heart pounding in my chest. Her wrists are already bound behind her back with a soft leather strap – a gift wrapping of sorts from Us when she was presented to me. She looks up at me with wide, trusting eyes, a quiet mixture of anticipation and submission. I feel a tremor of uncertainty in my limbs; this is all so new and intoxicating. Us stands just behind me, a steady presence at my shoulder. “She’s yours now,” Us murmurs in a low, encouraging tone. “Use her. She’s ready.”

Swallowing hard, I nod. I reach down and gently trail my fingers along the woman’s cheek. Her skin is warm and flushed. She leans subtly into my touch, silently conveying consent. I exhale slowly, letting the nerves drain out of me as I focus on her. “Good,” Us whispers near my ear. “She wants to please you. Don’t be afraid to take control.”

I tilt the kneeling woman’s chin up with my fingertips, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Keep your eyes on me,” I instruct softly. She obeys immediately, her eyes locking with mine. There’s a flicker of excitement there, and she bites her lower lip in anticipation. I feel a surge of confidence – she’s waiting for me to lead her.

Us steps around to my side, holding out a black silk blindfold. “Take away her sight,” Us says, voice smooth but commanding. “Heighten her other senses. Make her feel everything.” I take the blindfold from Us’s hand. The silk is cool and smooth between my fingers. The woman’s breath catches as she sees the strip of dark fabric; she immediately bows her head slightly, presenting herself, ready to be deprived of vision.

“Good girl,” I murmur almost instinctively as I slide the blindfold over her eyes and knot it snugly at the back of her head. She shivers at the praise, a faint smile appearing on her lips before the blindfold covers them. Once the knot is secure, I step back to admire the sight. She is now effectively sightless, on her knees, breathing a little faster as the world goes dark for her. I can see her chest rising and falling, the thin lace bra she wears doing little to hide the hard peaks of her nipples – she’s already aroused, possibly as much by the anticipation as by the feeling of submission.

“She can’t see anything now,” Us remarks quietly. “Speak to her, let her hear your dominance. Then take even that away.” At this, Us produces a pair of soft foam earplugs from a pocket and hands them to me. I hesitate a moment – depriving her of hearing too will leave her completely at my mercy, lost in darkness and silence. The thought sends a thrill through me.

“Yes,” I breathe, taking the earplugs. I gently brush the woman’s long hair aside from her ears. She trembles, unaware of what exactly I’m doing until she feels the first plug slip into her ear canal. I press it in, and she lets out a soft whimper as her world falls almost silent. I move to the other side and insert the second plug. Her whimper turns into a soft moan, the sudden muffling of sound making her acutely aware of her own body – and my touch. Now she’s kneeling, blind and nearly deaf, only able to feel and taste and smell what I give her.

I run my fingers through her hair comfortingly, then fist a hand in that silky dark hair and tug firmly. She gasps at the sudden, sharp sensation on her scalp. “Good,” I hear Us say approvingly from somewhere behind me – likely she knows the woman can barely hear anything now, but Us speaks for my benefit. “She’s more sensitive now. Use that. Every touch will be magnified.”

I curl my fingers tighter in the woman’s hair and pull her head back, exposing her throat. Her lips part in a silent moan and her back arches slightly, balancing on her knees with her bound hands behind. With her throat bared, I lean down and place an open-mouthed kiss at the base of her neck, then drag my tongue slowly upward along her pulse. I can feel the frantic fluttering of her heartbeat against my tongue; she’s so alive with sensation. She shudders from the simple lick, the sound of my breath on her skin now one of the few things she can perceive.

My free hand glides down over her chest. I use a finger to lazily circle one of her taut nipples through the lace of her bra. Even this slight friction makes her suck in a breath. She can’t see it coming, can’t hear any warning – every touch is a surprise. I pinch her nipple suddenly, not too hard but enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure-*** through her. She cries out, the sound muffled to her own ears by the plugs, but I hear it clearly and it makes me smile.

I glance at Us. They watch intently, arms folded, a small satisfied smile on their lips as they see me taking charge. Us meets my eyes and nods once. “Now her breathing… control it.” The instruction is calm, but I sense a hunger behind Us’s voice – they want me to push further. So do I. I realize I want this power, I want to hear the woman whimper and beg under me.

I release the grip on her hair, letting her head tilt forward again. She’s panting lightly, chest heaving from the stimulation and the sensory deprivation. Gently, I push on her shoulder. “Down,” I command. She obeys immediately, allowing me to guide her from her knees onto her back on the plush carpet. I help ease her down since her hands are bound and she can’t see. Soon she’s lying flat, arms secured beneath her, her legs slightly parted as her skirt rides up her thighs. The vulnerability in this position is exquisite; she is completely at my mercy.

I lower myself to straddle her waist. The feeling of her warm body between my thighs sends a pulse of heat through me. She instinctively tries to shift her hips at the contact, a soft needy moan escaping her lips. I lean forward, my face hovering just above hers. Her lips are parted, her breathing quick. Though her eyes are hidden under the blindfold, I can imagine them wide with expectation.

“Can you hear me?” I ask in a low voice, unsure if she can through the earplugs. She doesn’t respond in words, but I see her head tilt as if trying to catch any hint of sound. She likely only heard a murmur. I smile and decide to use touch to communicate.

My hand slides up her throat, fingers splaying gently around her neck. She freezes for a moment, then releases a trembling breath as she realizes what I’m about to do. I apply a light pressure with my fingertips on either side of her neck, not truly choking, but enough for her to feel the control I have over something as essential as her air supply. Her reaction is immediate: a strangled moan, her body tensing beneath me, back arching slightly.

“Shhh,” I soothe, easing the pressure just a bit, then tightening again in a slow rhythm. Her lips open and close in silent gasps as I play with her breath, her chest rising desperately when I press, then collapsing as I let her draw a short gulp of air. She can’t predict when she’ll be allowed to breathe next. I watch her face closely – even blindfolded, her expression is one of surrender, mouth forming a perfect O of desperation and ecstasy mixed together.

“That’s it,” comes Us’s voice from somewhere to my right. “Feel how her pulse races under your palm? How she’s *** for you?” I do feel it – the rapid flutter of her heartbeat against my hand on her neck, the way her body writhes slightly as she accepts this treatment. The power coursing through me is heady. I realize I’m breathing almost as fast as she is, my own excitement climbing with every whimper she makes.

I release her throat suddenly, and she drags in a ragged breath, chest heaving. I can see a sheen of sweat now on her décolletage. She’s panting, each breath a relief that I have granted. But I’m not done playing with her air just yet. If anything, I want more.

Sliding down off her waist, I position myself lower along her body. I push her skirt all the way up to her hips, fully exposing her lace panties. With a swift motion, I hook my fingers into the delicate fabric and pull them down her legs. The woman lifts her hips obediently to help me remove them, and within moments the panties are tossed aside. Her thighs spread eagerly, revealing a glistening hint of her pussy. She’s soaked – whether from the choking or the overall domination, she is clearly loving this. The sweet, musky scent of her arousal hits my nose, and I bite my lip in response.

But I’m not here to pleasure her directly – not yet at least. Tonight is about me claiming control. And I know exactly how I want to do it. I look over my shoulder at Us. They seem to read my mind, because I see them give a slow, approving smile. “Yes… take your throne, my dear,” Us says softly, using a metaphor but one I instantly understand. My heart flutters with excitement and a newfound confidence.

I crawl up over the woman’s body on all fours, deliberately dragging my nails lightly up her sides as I go. She squirms beneath me, likely feeling each movement acutely in her dark, silent world. Finally, I hover with my knees on either side of her shoulders, my thighs framing her face. She can probably sense my body so close to her head, feel the heat radiating from me. Her breathing is rapid again, from arousal and anticipation.

Gripping the back of her head gently, I guide her face upward. The tip of her nose brushes the slick inner skin of my thigh and I hear her inhale sharply, taking in my scent. Us steps closer, I can sense them at the periphery, watching like a hawk. My own pulse is thunderous in my ears as I begin to lower myself onto the woman’s waiting mouth.

The first contact of her lips against my sex is electrifying. I can’t help the moan that escapes my throat as I settle my weight onto her face. Her mouth eagerly parts to accommodate me, and I feel the hot, wet glide of her tongue against my folds. Pleasure sparks through my core at that intimate lick. For a moment, I almost forget everything as I revel in the sensation.

But Us’s voice grounds me, reminding me to stay in control: “Don’t get lost in it yet. Take it. Make her work for it.” They’re right; I’m not here to passively enjoy – I’m here to dominate. I tighten my thighs around the woman’s face, burying her nose and mouth deeper against me. She lets out a muffled cry into my flesh, the vibrations of her voice sending a thrill through my clit. I realize I’ve effectively cut off her air again – this is not just forcing her to pleasure me, but also smothering her at my whim.

A wicked smile curls my lips. I rock my hips slowly, grinding myself onto her mouth. Each motion coats her lips and chin in my wetness. Below me, her muffled moans turn into urgent little noises as her oxygen diminishes. She tries to flick her tongue faster, desperately licking and sucking at me, perhaps hoping her enthusiastic service will convince me to grant mercy. The dual stimulation – her frantic tongue on my clit and the knowledge that I’m using her face so utterly – makes me throw my head back and sigh in ecstasy.

The woman’s struggles increase; I feel her head tug slightly, instinctively trying to pull back for air, but my hands are already in her hair again, holding her firm. I glance to the side and catch Us watching intensely. Their eyes burn with pride and lust at the sight of me fully asserting myself. “Not yet,” Us says firmly, understanding the silent question in my eyes about whether to let the sub breathe. “Make her beg for it.”

I nod and lean forward a bit, easing the pressure just enough so the woman can draw in a tiny sip of air from the corner of her smothered mouth. She gasps against me, the breath probably carrying my scent deep into her lungs, and I hear a faint whine of relief. But it’s short-lived; I immediately press back down, denying her more.

The effect is intense – her entire body thrashes lightly beneath me, legs shifting and hips bucking into the air in a panic-laced need. I hold her down, my hands now braced on the floor on either side of her head for leverage as I ride her face. “If you want to breathe,” I growl, surprised at the commanding tone of my own voice, “you’re going to have to ask nicely.”

She can’t hear my words clearly, but she can certainly understand the intent. In a break between grinds, I lift myself just a fraction off her face, enough that her mouth is freed for a moment. She gulps in precious air and immediately gasps out, “Pl–ease… please, Mistress!” Her voice is hoarse and desperate, and the word Mistress on her lips sends a jolt of pride and arousal through me. She’s addressing me, not Us, acknowledging me as her dominant. It’s heady as wine.

“What do you want? Use your words,” I purr, hovering just above her lips. My juices dripping onto her chin as she pants. She licks her lips, tasting me, and whimpers, “Breathe… please, let me breathe, Mistress… I’ll do anything…” Her plea is music to my ears.

I reward her by allowing another quick breath – I raise myself slightly higher, and she sucks in air greedily. But I’m not done making her beg. I glance at Us, who gives me an encouraging nod to continue. I realize I’m smiling – I’m in control of both the pace and her reward.

“Good girl,” as I pet her head. Then I add slyly, “Keep licking. Don’t stop until I say, understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” she manages to gasp out before I lower myself onto her mouth once more, cutting off any further s***ch. Now she knows that to earn her next breath, she must please me diligently. And oh, she does. Her tongue returns to its task with renewed vigor, lapping at my clit, circling and flicking just where it drives me wild. She sucks my sensitive nub between her lips and I gasp, my thighs clamping reflexively around her head.

The pleasure is mounting fast and hot within me. I ride her mouth, unabashed now, using her without mercy. Every time I feel her muffled cry against me, I know it’s because she’s again aching for air. Each time, I make her wait just a little longer, pushing her limits. Her begging becomes silent now – her body begs for her, bucking and quivering beneath me, her lungs heaving under the weight of my hips. It only fuels me more.

My own moans fill the room; I no longer care to hold them in. The fact that she can’t hear them properly somehow makes me even louder – I can freely express how good she’s making me feel, how powerful I feel at this moment. Us watches from close by, silent now, letting me have this moment entirely. I hear a quiet murmur of approval from them, or maybe it’s my imagination spurring me on.

I feel the heat coiling low in my belly – an orgasm building rapidly. The combination of her fervent tongue and the absolute control I wield is too perfect. I lean slightly back, changing the angle so her nose presses against my clit while her tongue probes deeper inside me. I grind down, smothering her fully once more as I take what I need. She lets out a strangled groan into my flesh, and that vibration along with the pressure pushes me over the edge.

I throw my head back and cry out, my body shuddering as a powerful climax crashes over me. Wave after wave of pleasure pulses out from my core, and I ride out every second of it on the poor woman’s face, deliberately prolonging my contact with her mouth. My thighs squeeze her head tightly as I come, as if I never want to let her go. Through the haze of ecstasy, I’m vaguely aware that I might be denying her oxygen a bit too long, but in the throes of pleasure, it feels impossible to move. She endures it, pinned beneath me, her own moans turning to urgent pants whenever she can steal a breath between my spasms.

Finally, as the tremors subside, I regain enough control to ease off. I lift myself from her face and slide down to straddle her chest instead. She gasps loudly, sucking in lungfuls of air, coughing once in her desperation to breathe. I gently remove the earplugs from her ears now and then reach up to untie the blindfold. As the silk falls away from her eyes, I see they are teary – not from sadness or true distress, but from the intensity of the experience, the lack of air and the overwhelming sensations. Her cheeks are flushed red, her lips and chin glistening with my wetness.

She blinks up at me, eyes glazed and dazed with submissive pleasure. I smile down at her and stroke her cheek, wiping a bit of moisture (tears or my arousal or both) from her face. She nuzzles into my palm instinctively, a gesture of affection and surrender. I feel a swell of pride and tenderness at this sight: she took everything I gave, and she’s still here, devoted and utterly mine in this moment.

Behind me, I hear Us step closer. But I stay focused on the woman beneath me. I gently brush damp strands of hair away from her forehead. Leaning down, I place a soft, gentle kiss on her forehead – a stark contrast to the rough treatment earlier. She sighs and closes her eyes, basking in the warmth of the aftercare moment. I realize this caring side of dominance comes naturally to me too. A minute ago I was mercilessly using her, and now I want to comfort her. Both sides feel right.

I slide off her chest and help her up into a sitting position, making sure she’s steady. Her hands are still bound, so I support her with an arm around her back. She leans into me, pliant and content. I decide she’s earned some kindness. Lifting the little bottle of water that Us had left on the side table (always prepared), I bring it to her lips. She drinks gratefully, and I can see the adoration in her eyes as she looks at me over the rim of the bottle.

Once she’s had her fill, I set the bottle aside. I run my thumb over her lower lip, now swollen from the combined effect of my riding and her own biting in the heat of the moment. She looks up at me, awaiting my next words, maybe even a bit of validation. Her entire body language screams submission and a desire to be praised.

I tilt her chin up once more, much as I did at the beginning. Her eyes, now free to gaze, lock onto mine. I let a slow smile curve my lips and speak in a firm but warm voice, “Good girl.” The words hang in the air, and I feel their impact on her; she closes her eyes for a second as if savoring them, and a serene smile graces her face. There it is – the reward she craved: my approval.

A soft chuckle comes from beside me. Us moves in then, and I turn my head to see them. There is a look of immense pride shining in Us’s eyes. Without a word, Us reaches out and cups my face gently. I close my eyes as Us leans in and places a tender kiss on my forehead. The gesture is gentle, almost reverent – a sign of approval and affection. My heart swells at the recognition that I’ve done well, that I’ve become what Us hoped I would. In this silent moment, with the sweet ache of dominance still thrumming through my veins, I know I’ve fully stepped into his world.

The submissive woman rests against me, content and trembling, and I hold her safely in my arms. Us’s kiss lingers like a seal of approval on my skin. I open my eyes to meet Us’s gaze and we share a knowing smile. The transfer is complete – I am no longer tentative or afraid. I am dominant, I am in control, and both Us and my sweet submissive know it.

“Good girl,” I whisper one more time to the woman, brushing my lips against her temple as she sighs happily. And with Us’s arm now d***d around my shoulders in a proud embrace, I bask in the warm glow of fulfillment that fills the room.

(This is the last part of A Jail for Sinners. More to come…)

[ma****]

These pronouns are so confusing

[Ha****]

41 minutes ago, malesub1305 said:

These pronouns are so confusing

Bless your heart

[Bu****]

I hate it here

[GreyHog]

The journey is always better than the destination. I'll help you along the way, growling in your ear.

[Ha****]

32 minutes ago, GreyHog said:

The journey is always better than the destination. I'll help you along the way, growling in your ear.

I would expect nothing less…