Severe Session - Sex Stories

Severe Session

My adventure with Mistress Virginie lasted over two years. She introduced me to the world of bondage and all the abuse a submissive could endure. It was always done with consent and respect for each other's limits.

On one occasion, however, we went much further, and this marked a definitive turning point in my life.

***

It's March, and winter is coming to a close. Mistress Virginie and I have established a well-oiled routine. She calls me on Friday evenings, after my classes, to arrange an appointment for the following week, depending on her availability.

But this Friday is different. On the phone, her voice is tense. I can feel her irritation. She explains that she's just had a very bad week and needs to blow off some steam.

She asks me if I'd like to join her now and spend the night. She warns me, however, that if I accept, it will be hard and painful. She plans to hurt me.

As a spirited young man, in the prime of life, invincible, nothing scares me. I accept.

***

The session begins as usual. I prepare in the bathroom. I undress and attach the leather handcuffs to my wrists and ankles. Then I return to the living room and kneel in the middle of the room, obediently awaiting my Mistress.

I immediately assume the submissive posture she's taught me: ankles crossed, buttocks resting on my feet, thighs spread, hands on my knees, palms offered and head erect, staring straight ahead.

I take this opportunity to notice that she has changed the ...

... arrangement of the room. The large dining room table and accompanying benches have been pushed up against the wall alongside the windows. The toadstools are tucked against the wall between the bathroom and bedroom doors. Only the living room's enormous sofa has kept its place, and the coffee table and thick rug have now been moved to the center of the room.

The click of stiletto heels on the wooden floor signals Virginie's arrival. I hold my position and try to calm my breathing as she stands before me.

Dressed entirely in black, as usual, fishnet stockings run up her long, perfectly shaped, legs, held in place by an elegant lace garter belt. She wears no panties. Her perfectly shaved sex is at eye level, and I can see the outline of her dark labia.

A simple bra restrains her high, round breasts. Through the fabric, hardened by excitement, her dark nipples are already showing.

She holds a leather riding crop in her hand. Placing the leather tip under my chin, she forces me to lift my face towards her.

Her long, raven-black hair is pulled back into an elegant braid that falls to the nape of her neck. This highlights the oval of her face with its high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Her sensual lips are painted blood-red. Her steely gaze is icy as it plunges into my eyes.

“Tonight," she warns, "you're here for me. Only for my pleasure. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good, get up.”

I obeyed immediately. Spreading my legs shoulder-width apart, Virginie ...