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As soon as she entered the dimly lit room, the familiar aroma of leather and arousal hit her senses. She had been a submissive for years now, but tonight was different. Tonight was special – she had been promised the ultimate experience, one that would leave her utterly bound to the pleasure that only BDSM could offer.

She was met at the door by her Dom. Tall, dark and handsome, he commanded attention the moment he set his eyes on her, his gaze simultaneously demanding and reassuring. He wordlessly gestured her to dress in the outfit he had laid out for her: a tight-fitting corset, matching panties and garters, and towering heels that she knew would leave her legs shaking by the end of the night. She eagerly complied, allowing him to strap her into the corset so tight that she felt her breath catch in her throat.

As he led her by the hand into the main playroom, her heart was pounding with anticipation. Bound to please – that was their mantra, and she had already learned the joys of giving up control to a eager partner. But tonight, that willingness would be tested in methods she could only imagine.

The first thing she saw as she entered the room was the St. Andrew’s cross, the anchor point for all the equipment they would spend the night exploring. The second was the other sub already strapped to it, her back bare and exposed, her breathing labored and her body writhing as her Dom teased her relentlessly.

Her own Dom led her over to a nearby chair and positioned her so that she could watch the scene unfolding before her. The other sub was moaning and whimpering, her body arching against the restraints in an effort to get closer to the sensations her Dom was providing. Watching her, our protagonist felt a flush of jealousy – she wanted to be the one experiencing that sort of pleasure.

But she knew that she had to trust her Dom. As he began to prepare her, gently stroking her body to heighten her arousal, she surrendered to the sensations, letting her body go slack and trusting him to take her where she needed to go. His fingers traced her curves, teasing her nipples to aching hardness, then sliding lower to discover the wetness between her legs. She inhaled sharply as he circled her clit with his thumb, then gasped as he plunged two fingers deep inside her.

At that moment, she felt like she could have come right then and there. But he had other plans, and he withdrew his fingers just as she was about to crest, leaving her panting and frustrated. He strapped her into a set of cuffs that hung from the ceiling, then positioned himself behind her and began to whisper to her in that low, commanding voice she loved so much.

“You’re mine,” he said, as he ran his hands over her body, “and I’m going to do whatever I want with you. You’re bound to please, and I intend to make sure of that.”

With that, he began to spank her, each blow sending a wave of heat through her body, her skin singing with pleasure. The spanking continued, each slap leaving her gasping and trembling, until she was begging him to stop.

“I can’t, my love,” he said, “not until you’ve shown me just how much you want it.”

And so she pushed herself, over and over again, submitting to his every command until she was utterly spent, the pleasure building within her until she was screaming with it.

It was a night that would be hard to forget, a night when she truly learned the meaning of the words that had brought them together: bound to please – and pleased to be bound.
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