Satine the Domme · Part 1

Satine the Domme · Part 1 (1/2)
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Satine was the most desired, most well compensated professional dominatrix in all of New York City. This was for a very good reason, as she was close to six feet tall, with long, straight fire red hair, massive, firm and natural tits, and a serious sadistic streak that she loved using on wealthy perverts.

Bob Eastwick was a wealthy pervert, except his tastes ran towards dominating women, not being dominated by them. He had noticed Satine over a year before, and had worked constantly over that time to find out everything about her. He knew that she genuinely hated men, that she worked in an upscale brothel located in a Soho, that she was fabulously wealthy with her lifestyle, and most importantly that she lived out on Long Island, in a large, ocean front house, with an assortment of women coming and going in her life. That discovery of her house, and also of her real name, (The not nearly as exotic Jennifer Monroe) allowed Eastwick to plot his obsession. To kidnap and take Satine and keep her as a bondage sex slave for as long as she remained beautiful.

In order to do this, he stalked Satine, spending countless hours on the beach near her house, hidden behind dunes with binoculars trained, and listening devices straining to hear her every word. He learned everything about her, her comings and goings, her friends and social life. He also learned everything possible about her security system including through constant telescoping viewing of Satine every time she entered the house, what he thought was the security code for the houses alarm system. This was the key to his entire plan, because with this code, he could enter the house when she was not there, and take his time binding her properly, before he took her to her final permanent home.

He picked a Saturday night, because she never worked Sundays or Mondays, and she would not be missed for a couple days at least. The more time that passed between her abduction, and any inquiries towards her whereabouts meant the likelihood of any witnesses being able to remember any odd happenings at the house. He had bought a cheap moped from a chop shop, and had stashed it, and a large bag of fetish bondage gear in an abandoned rain culvert fairly close to a train station out on the island. He took the second to last train out there, walked to the moped and bag of gear, and then drove the twelve miles out to near her house.

He stopped nearly a mile away, shoved the moped under a short pier, then into the ocean itself, just enough so that when the moped was dropped on its side, it would be covered by water. The tide was coming in, so the bike would remain covered for a long time, and there would be no way to connect it to the disappearance of a high priced prostitute a mile away.

He hiked down the beach, avoiding attracting any attention at all. Some of these beaches were private, but he had, of course, planned out the entire route, and by the time he arrived at his familiar sand bunker near his prey's house. The sand was problematic, because it would provide the only physical evidence he had been here. With any luck the wind over the next day would obliterate his prints, but he still took the time to sweep as many of his prints with a tree branch he picked up. Anything to confuse what had happened here. He confidently stepped up to the front door, and with practiced ease, jimmied the lock.

She had not slid the deadbolt, even though he could have gotten through that easily enough, and he took that as a good omen for the potential for the rest of the evening. He stepped in quickly, turned to the keypad set right by the door and quickly typed in the numbers he knew he had seen. Despite the thin leather gloves he wore, his fingers easily accomplished the task.

1789….enter. The year of the storming of the Bastille, which was appropriate for someone that used the name of a famous French prostitute as her pseudonym.

The light on the pad changed obediently from red to green, and Eastwick sighed in relief. This had been one of the big unknowns of his quest, if this code would work. If it hadn't he was prepared to run quickly, and begin plotting another abduction attempt, but again, the fates smiled on him, and frowned on Satine. He turned on no lights, allowing the moon and the stars that filtered in to show the way. He carefully set himself up in the hallway right by the pad, and waited with infinite patience. He sat there for hours, until finally, close to three in the morning, a car pulled into the long driveway, and then into the detached garage.

He could hear the garage door open, then close, and then the distant sounds of high heels on sidewalk. She was alone, which was the final piece of good luck he had needed. She did not seem to notice that the lock to the door had been jimmied earlier, and with no fumbling at all, slid the key in the lock, and opened the door. She closed it behind her, and strode with confidence over to the alarm keypad. She paused here, confused as to why the alarm showed green, when he attacked.

He moved quicker than she could react, snaking his arms around her slender neck, while slamming her body into the wall, knocking the wind out of her. His powerful forearms contracted around her windpipe, chocking off her first attempt at a scream. He pulled back hard on her neck, jerking her off balance, while at the same time kicking her long legs out from her. Her four-inch high heels were no help to her here, and she was easily drug to the ground. He kept his chokehold on her, while forcing her face down onto a small rug. She was trying to claw behind her, but he was wearing a sturdy leather coat, and her blows were ineffectual.

He released his choke hold at this point, wrapped his right hand in her thick red hair, and while pinning her to the ground with a brutal knee in the small of her back, jerked her head straight back. He then used his left hand to pull a massive, hard rubber head harness ball gag off his belt. While she bucked and twisted under him, he drove his knee even harder into her back, pulled back sharper with her hair, and shoved the ball into her opened mouth.

She was too shocked to know what was happening for a moment, and despite her complete unwillingness, the ball forced her jaws ever wider, until it settled in behind her teeth. He grabbed a buckling strap, released her hair, and pulled it brutally behind her head, settling the ball deeper in her mouth. Satine felt her hair get caught in the roller buckle, and screamed into the gag. It emerged from the space as a choked gurgle. Eastwick pulled the gag strap as tight as he could, and buckled it off. Satine was trying to get her hands up to her face to try to get the obstruction out of her mouth, but Eastwick easily grabbed her wrists, and brutally pulled them behind her back.

"I'm a lot stronger than you, Jennifer." He said. "Not used to being manhandled are you?"

Jennifer had noticed he had used her real name, a name she never used with anyone, anymore. She was realizing this might be more than a robbery or even a rape. He was threading a short leather belt between her elbows, while easily holding both her slender wrists in one of his massive hands. He looped the belt around both elbows, and pulled it tight, dragging her elbows together behind her back. Satine screamed again, as although she was flexible, she was not used to being bound in this way. In fact she was not used to being bound at all, as she hated any sign of weakness or helplessness.

"Lets put that gag on right, shall we." Eastwick taunted. "You know how one of these head harness gags work, don't you? " He grabbed the loose straps that were attached to the gag already in her mouth. "We pull these up over your head, and this one under your jaw, and we pull them as tight as we can before we lock them off. Is that right?" Satine could only groan in discomfort as the ball settled even farther in her mouth, and her already aching jaws sealed around it. She was fully aware of how effective this gag was, having shoved them into the mouths of dozens of helpless men. Her helpless arms fluttered around like butterfly wings, straining to reach up and unlock the gag. Eastwick kept his knee firmly planted in the small of Satines back, and pulled out an ultra sharp switchblade from one of his pockets.

"Don't move too much, this knife is really sharp, and you don't want that perfect skin of yours marred with some cuts. This will only take a moment." He grabbed the hem of her knee length skirt and with ease cut it off her body. He then quickly snipped off the tiny thong, then moved up to the loose, conservative blouse and plain white bra. Finally he removed her overly high heels and she was completely nude except for the gag and arm strap she wore against her will. He stood up, finally removing the painful knee from her back, and she curled up to try to hide herself. Her arms still straining hopelessly to be free. She got a brief look at her attacker, and did not recognize him at all.

He seemed to be average looking, completely bald, and an unremarkable face. She could also see that he was a big man, well over six feet tall, and very broad in the chest. With the casual way he had moved her around, she knew that he was far stronger than her. He was messing around with a large black sports bag, and pulled out some items and came back over to her prone body. She was pulling her legs up to kick out, but he easily moved to her side, reached down, grabbed her by the hair with his one free hand, and pushed her back onto her stomach. Once again his knee jammed into her back, and she was pinned to the ground.

Her full 38 D chest shoved onto the ground, and her groans of pain and humiliation barely audible with the ball in her mouth.

"I don't think you are going to like what happens next, my dear. I'm afraid that my preference for my women is that they be bound in the most stringent ways possible."

As he was talking, he was also pulling a formed soft leather armbinder up her already bound arms. Satine knew instantly what was happening, and knew that once in a formed leather armbinder, there was no way possible to get free. She twisted and arched her body, desperate to keep it from being used on her. It was hopeless though, and very quickly he had it pulled up to her shoulders, and began to tighten the laces. Her clawing hands were soon forced into tight fists, as the space her hands had was reduced inch by inch. Satine continued to scream and buck, but both actions meant nothing.

He had the armbinder laced up above her elbows, when he brutally grabbed her by the hair, took his knee out of her back, and lifted her to a kneeling position. He then crossed two narrow straps that ran over her shoulders, crossed between her massive tits, and then locked under her arms back to the binder. This prevented any pulling of the armbinder down her arms. It also gave Eastwick his first chance to see and touch Satines glorious breasts. Like the rest of her skin, they were pale, and completely flawless. He lightly stroked them, and Satine screamed again into her gag, trying to pull herself away.

"Can't stand the touch of a man, eh?" He teased, continuing to stroke her firm breasts. "I'm afraid that you no longer have any choice in anything you ever do from now on. That armbinder is a preview for how you are going to spend every moment of your life from now on. Completely helpless and tightly bound." He spun her around, and finished lacing up the armbinder as tightly as his considerable strength would allow. By the time he was done, the armbinder fit her like a second skin, with no slack at all. Inside the binder, Satine tested its limits. There was no give, no movement. Leather belts around her wrists, and elbows just reinforced how hopelessly her arms were trapped.

Then Eastwick got busy on binding her long, shapely legs. Very quickly he was able to overpower her rapidly diminishing efforts to stop him. He simply bound each ankle to the corosponding thigh with wide black leather belts, pulled to a brutal tightness. Her heels were fused to her ass, and her legs had become useless stumps. When he was done, he placed her back on her bound legs, with her sitting on her own feet. She still struggled, but the already strict bondage prevented much movement. He could not believe how incredible her naked, bound body looked. Her almost pure white skin countered with the jet black of the armbinder and leg straps.

Her twisting of her body, as she tried to reach with her useless bound hands to the belts around her thighs, hoping to somehow pull them off her. Her massive tits bobbed provocatively with her every move, her large red lipsticked mouth wrapped completely around the massive ball in her mouth. A thin stream of drool had appeared from her lower lip, and when it finally dropped from her mouth, and onto her left tit, Satine noticed it and tried to look down to see what happened. When she realized she was drooling uncontrollably, it was the final humiliating straw for her. She began to sob into her gag, and the drool increased.

"Oh is the big bad boss, Satine learning what it feels like to be abused with bondage?" Eastwick laughed at her. "Its only going to get worse for you now. Time to take away your ability to see anything."

He showed her the thick, black leather helmet he had brought along. It was not any sort of amateur device, but an evil looking thing, with no openings at all, except for two tiny, metal grommeted holes where the nostrils would be. It was a hood designed for punishment, to be hot, tight and impossible to consider removing without help. Satine had often used similar hoods on h

Satine the Domme · Part 1 (1/2)
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