The Black Widow Estate

Feel the eager shaking of the trees that rise and tower above you, that surround you, that follow you along your path. Feel the cool night air begin to set in and grow slowly to envelop the darkening woods. Watch as the rays of sun that pierced the tree top and illuminated the green begin to recede, trunks leaving everything behind in a shadow cloak. The twilight is passing and the night is crashing over the world like a tidal wave. You better hurry, sweet submissive.

Can you see it there in the distance? The sharp jet black spires of the estate, the slate roof with tiles painted red, the stained glass windows carefully painted in bright 10 deep velvet red colours. The refracting sunset from above the trees makes the glass glow red like eyes between the whittled branches. Hurry before the moon rises above the tree lips. These woods come alive at night.

Branches might reach out to grab you. Roots might come alive and begin to sneak themselves around your feet. Wolves, owls sun's shadow cats come out from their layers. They stalk silently through the undergrowth f and their eyes shine golden, hungry with the scent of prey. …

Feel the eager shaking of the trees that rise and tower above you, that surround you, that follow you along your path. Feel the cool night air begin to set in and grow slowly to envelop the darkening woods. Watch as the rays of sun that pierced the tree top and illuminated the green begin to recede, trunks leaving everything behind in a shadow cloak. The twilight is passing and the night is crashing over the world like a tidal wave. You better hurry, sweet submissive.

Can you see it there in the distance? The sharp jet black spires of the estate, the slate roof with tiles painted red, the stained glass windows carefully painted in bright 10 deep velvet red colours. The refracting sunset from above the trees makes the glass glow red like eyes between the whittled branches. Hurry before the moon rises above the tree lips. These woods come alive at night.

Branches might reach out to grab you. Roots might come alive and begin to sneak themselves around your feet. Wolves, owls sun's shadow cats come out from their layers. They stalk silently through the undergrowth f and their eyes shine golden, hungry with the scent of prey. I know you are tired from the long journey.

Trinity. I know that your thighs are tight and your feet are sore. Your back aches and your knees are shaky, tr- But you're almost there. At journey's end the warm embrace of our heavy halls welcome you. The dim candlelight of torches suspended on fixtures between each window.

The double brazier that devours the night air guiding your path to the door. Carved oak doors fill a grand stone archway and above it sits a wheeled window, its glass stained in the shape of a spider. Its bottom is imprinted with a red sapphire heart that glows electric in the light of flames, its legs stretch outwards reaching down towards you as you gaze up, the the legendary seal of the Black Widow estate. Pause on the threshold. Feel the radiating heat that emanates from the heavy stone walls.

Hear the faint winds carrying the sound of distant howling, tossing the flames and kissing you with warmth. Only 5 steps to the end of your journey. The end of a journey never feels the way you expect. You take a moment to think, to reflect upon your journey here that you can't seem to remember. Your legs feel achy and your knees are shaky and yet you can't remember taking a single step.

The sounds of the living forest and howling wind suddenly booms in your head. The haze lifts. You hear the wind alive in the hedges, the sound of even gravel underneath your tired feet. The wind is cold and the goosebumps tingle down your spine. The warm windows look so enticing out there in the darkness.

Take a step. Your right foot connects with the flat stone. It feels unfamiliar after your journey and your foot aches. Take a breath and lift your left foot onto the 2nd step. A heavy wind sweeps across you and as you set your right foot on the third step.

The flaming braziers behind you are snuffed out. The stairs and doorway are thrown into sudden darkness in front of your eyes. You feel cold. Lift your left foot onto the fourth step. Another gust washes over you and the flaming torches on the wall disappear 1 by 1 from right to left.

Like a melody they go, 1 after another cock surrendering their flames. The distant howling grows closer. The bushes are stirring with life. Lift your right foot on to the final step. The 1,000 pound doors creak open in front of you.

The warm glow from inside floods outwards like a warm wave of illuminating comfort. You see the warm entrance of the house. A chandelier maintains a 100 candles, sitting in black cups suspended by black arms connected to a body that pierces the air with its sharp centre. The wax stains the cups white and the orange flames make the black glow golden. Reflections on the polished red oak make the room glow.

A low balcony watches over the entrance, its pillars creating archways wherever they are placed, carved and imposing. The fireplace against the left wall crackled lightly. Flames contained in a coffin of black carved steel children raised from the floor. Above, a mirror framed in gold and carved with flowers hangs like a watching eye. Thick patterned carpets line the floor, golden and red with symmetrical shapes that complement the sharp angles of the wood and the twists and turns of the archways.

Take the final step. Move into the doorway and enter the warm glow. Breathe in the smoky air and fill your lungs with the comforting warmth. Take another step. Feel your feet sink into the heavy carpet.

The sounds of outside become completely muffled. The doors creak slowly past and shut themselves gently behind you. A heavy latch slips down and locks. From the muffled interior a light tapping grows louder from from behind the walls above you. It grows louder, overpowering.

Intense. Step. Step. Stepping closer As I emerge from dark halls above, I step out onto the low balcony. My velvet robe plays tricks with light and my form slips and glides like a shadow.

Brief glimpses of my naked legs, glimpses at the sides of my breasts as the robe flows over my body shingle and bounces around on me. I place my elbow on the balcony railing, cock. Resting my head and leaning forward, my other hand taps suspiciously on the thick wood. 1 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, three, four My fingers move like a wave, like torches being extinguished, a melody, a distracting yet so grabbing melody. My rope hangs as I lean, showing more but not enough. Your eyes flicker nervously between my chest, face and fingers, wanting so desperately to look at everything and nothing all at once. So excited but so unsure, so unsure if you can be the good boy I need you to be. But you and I both know how simple it is.

You find value in obedience. You find fulfilment in obedience. You didn't choose that but it feels oh so good deep inside of you. I curl a finger and beckon you to follow me. I turn and my robe's wings.

Stitched to my bottom like the stained glass of the red heart, woven in blood red silk that glimmers like glass. Walk up the stairs to the balcony and follow. The stairs creep chicken bed gently as you step on them. The red carpet is soft and warm. As you top the stairs, a shadow glides out in front of you and passes you.

You look right and see the spider waving with the motion of my hips. As my light feet walk briskly along the corridor. Your legs move by instinct and begin to follow down the corridor. Dozens and dozens of rooms surround you on both sides, their gilded numbers flicker in the light, lamps hanging between each room screened in black casting a deep orange light throughout the hallway. Paintings framed in gold are bathed in the light from underneath the lamp screens.

Master craftsmanship captures the intensity of the human desire. Pale and marbled skin draped ginormous nothing. Naked breasts and blushing faces painted in oil. The intensity of the nature in the background. The motion and detail drenches every inch of the canvas.

As you walk past them they seem to move and come alive. The hallway is so long and the paintings become more colourful and deep with every step. Our distance grows. Deep pace. Stare at my butt.

Stare at the red heart as it waves for you. The walls are so tight and growing tighter coming close. At the intersection chin of another hallway I turn, my eyes look into yours and I slip away around the corner. Then the lights extinguish around you, a sparkling electric wave as light bulbs shatter. 1st from the top to the bottom of your right then from the bottom to the top of your left.

Complete darkness envelops pew as the final bulb pops. A door flings open in front of you, far away, farther than where the wall should have been, a glowing light captured in the doorway. You walk wearily and the more bravely. Perhaps I hadn't turned right after all. Perhaps your eyes are simply mistaken.

You peek the golden entrance when you see me at the beginning of another identical long and decorated hallway, sitting on an ornate and decorated chair with velvet pillows and carved steels shaped into flowers decorator from top to bottom. My legs are crossed and my robe has slipped from my thigh to my hips, the tight muscles under soft and delicate skin. In one hand held open with my thumb is a book, thin but heavy leather bound. I slip my leg down again and gently part my legs. The robe is short in the front and almost slips to reveal what waits underneath.

It pulls you through the doorway. As you emerge, I look at you and I snap the book shut. Darkness overtakes you once again. The light and the doors disappear. I disappear.

You gaze around the black emptiness so helplessly. Then you see it, the red heart glowing, swaying gently, moving away from you, the legendary seal of the Black Widow estate. Follow. Do you hear that faint voice in your head, the voice saying don't follow her? Perhaps it would be wise to listen.

Perhaps you shouldn't be so eager to dive into the unknown. Chocolates. In the darkness evil things lurk. The desires that drove you all this way can also be dangerous, disorienting and blinding. They fog your mind and cloud your judgement.

Trunks. But I can't stop you from following if that is what you truly want. Perhaps you're like me, someone who finds the mystery so thrilling, the unknown so attractive and the forbidden so sacred. But remember where you are. Remember who I am.

There is control and there is ownership, and I own completely. Good submissives are my property. Property means that I do whatever I want. I don't need to ask. I don't need to warn or explain.

I don't need to listen. Following the heart does not guarantee your pleasure, it guarantees mine. The only thing I can promise you is a deep submissive state which is all you want, right? Even if it feels weird to admit everything else is secondary. Whatever else I do is so deeply tied to your submissive nature.

And you are completely open to me. If you follow, you follow to a place without barriers where pleasure is whatever I decide for you, whatever I subject you to. Chirping. Follow the heart into the darkness. Feel the floor open up beneath you and fall.

Fall deep and fast. Slip away for me. Feel my soft web catch you. It stretches as you keep falling down slower and slower. The web slip over your clothes, tugging at your collar and pants, slipping your clothes off slowly as the web stretches chis further and further down.

The thin strings, sticky and soft, leave you naked and bare as you slip, the the weak strands tearing 1 after 1, slowing you to a gentle roll. The final few strings hold you back as you fall through and into a warm bed of silk as they gently let their grip go and retreat back. The room is dark and in the darkness you feel silk cock crawling across your skin, wrapping around your wrists and calves, tight Dunruff as they tug on your arms and feet, like stretching you on a rack as they wrap themselves around the bedpost, strung and wrapped tight, pulling on your sore muscles, stretching and massaging. I'm so happy. I didn't know what I would have done if you'd turned back instead of following me.

I've been so desperate, all alone in this mansion with no toys to play with, No canvas for me to mark, no property for me to use and abuse. I wear out my toys so quickly. But something tells me you will last longer. You hear a door creak open but you cannot see. The flare of a match chick nighting illuminates the doorway as I light a candle.

You see me now. I've changed. Dark fishnet stockings contrasted against pale skin, a lace dress black and patterned with roses, the silver chain that suspends a red heart between my breasts, the lace so tight around my hips and arse tso loose over my thighs and arms, my naked breasts underneath, the pale nipples disguised in a rid of black string. The thigh stockings dig into my soft skin making it look so plump and soft, my red lips so thick and soft as I say these words to you. I walk to the side of the bed, the soft glow the candle shows me your desperate body, your tired legs, your worn face, your soft cock.

Without saying anything, I grab your limp little cock. I grip it tight, so tight it almost hurts. I jerk my hand up and down, squeezing tight and slapping my hand against your balls. You squirm and twist, but the restraints keep you so still. The aching head of your cock pulses ters uncomfortably as I pump you hard and dry, my cold fingers sending delicate shivers and goosebumps down your balls and let go as they jerk you upwards and your limp cock slaps back onto your stomach before it begins to rise.

The skin turned red when my fingers squeezed and the head going numb with blood. A good submissive is hard before we start. Do you understand? The good boy doesn't need me to force his erections. He is hard whenever he hears, sees or thinks of me.

God, it's only been a few seconds and you're already pissing me off. You understand that I need to punish you now, right? Mistakes like these need to be weeded out early. If not, I'm just going to have to get rid of you like I did the others. I place the candle on the bedside table and climb on top of you.

My raven hair falls over your face as I spread my legs the lean over you, my weight pulls as silk around your arms and legs tight, my hands on either side of your head leaning down close to you. I sit unmoving, letting the tight knots make your limbs go numb, letting the blood disappear from your head as your naked cock swells with the heat from my thighs. I lean my head down, but before our lips meet, I move to the left, reaching inside the table drawer. Before you know what's happening, I'm stuffing a ball gag into your mouth. You groan as I pull it tight around you.

The shock leaves you breathing hard and fast through your nose. The black rubber is so hard but soft inside you. Your eyes look at me so scared and vulnerable, but at the same time they shine with desperation and need. Even as your mind struggles nervously, the muscles between your legs clench involuntarily and pump that precum to the surface. I leaned down and put my pouty lips on the ball gag, kissing it lazily, cock running my tongue over it, lightly accidentally touching your lips, warmth and softness sending desperate spikes of shudder into your brain like bolts of lightning.

Stare deep into my scarlet eyes as they reflect the roar of candle flame while my mouth opened and my tongue moves over you so close but so desperately far away. My eyes narrow and the flame in my eyes twists with the shape of a burning heart projecting my desire for your submission. My delicate and light body begins to shift and move over you. Like water I twist and turn with an uninterrupted flow. My pale fishnet thighs so warm as they find your head between them.

Under my lace skirt is nothing, nothing but a soft pink swollen pussy, my plump lips forming the shape of a heart where they crest my opening and come together at my clit. Sweet, sensitive, and pale ripples of skin that pull you deeper into submission. The delicate scent feels too heavy as you are forced to breathe through your nose, as you were forced to take me in with every inhale, the scent intoxicating like wine forcing you into an increasingly desperate and intoxicating submissive state. I leaned forward, spreading my legs slightly. I put my hands around your naked thighs and I sink my naked pussy down onto your gag.

The rubber is so hot from your warm mouth, damp and slick from your drool as the view leaves you a helpless mess. My lips open so gently as I begin to rock my hips calmly across the slick rubber, letting the ball roll across my clit and massage my opening, long fingernails driving into your thighs as I move back and forth on your face. My hands run along the inside of your thigh and I cup your balls and shaft all at once in a tight and greedy fist. Blood shoots into your cock and balls and the throbbing sends a jolt of intensity surging through your body. I wrap my hand around your base and begin pumping you.

Your hips begin to buck. Your thighs begin to shake and your moans force themselves out from between your gagged lips, a cruel hand that works your cock like it can't ejaculate fast enough, your numb limbs being pulled so desperately tight by the web. No escape. No pause. No choice.

Instead, you are forced to feel. Feel as my lips sink deeper on the gag, kissing yours, the heart shaped lips beginning to bleed warm, sweet droplets of needy pleasure. Oh, so needy for her sweet submissive, ready to consume her prey, her reward for a hunt well executed. The fly in the web is hers and hers alone. The uncontrollable shaking from my thighs vibrating your mind.

Shaking. Shaking. Shaking. Your thighs shaking with uncontrollable spasms as the web pulls you to your limit as my hand grows warmer and warmer, your mind and body and cock beginning to glow in spasm, the soft fishnet and burning skin tightening around your head. You feel so enclosed, so trapped.

P t your cock trapped in my grip, pumping so furiously. Don't you dare fucking come, baby. You're not a good toy if you come early. I have no use for toys who cannot control their filthy ejaculations. Oh, but my grip feels so tight around you.

It's not just the sensation, the tingles, the submission. It's also the strength and force. I pull it out of you. From every corner of your body it rushes chairs to the centre pooling at your core. The shaking, the moaning, the pooling desire.

It all stimulates such just submissive part of your brain. You know it shouldn't feel so good, but it does. I can take you to places you thought were out of reach. If submission is your desire, then my desires are nothing but instructions for you to follow. Your mind screams out no.

No. Please. No. But there is something deep inside of you that follows the heart that falls willingly into the web that pulls your pleasure so inexplicably deep. The orgasm is bubbling inside you, boiling hot deep within your core.

Every time my fist goes up, more and more pleasure is pulled along burning hot as it rises to the top. You better not be thinking about coming. You've been such a good toy but I'm afraid you might be getting carried away. Do you feel it? The eyes beginning to roll back into your head.

That 'is my poison taking you? My control filling your body and mind. Don't cum. Don't come. Your mind yells out to you.

Oh, but the force is so great. The strength of my mental and physical grip is too strong. Don't come. You're my slave. Don't cum.

If you cum I'll lock you the fuck up. I swear to God don't you dare fucking cum. Butt. My heart shaped pussy creaming onto your mouth makes your mind swell with intoxicating submissiveness. The temperature inside.

It's simply too hot to be sustained. If you don't release soon, it might just make you burst. Don't cum. Don't you fucking dare cum, you nasty little pervert. But you're pulled so deep you can't ground yourself again.

You are filled with my control and drowned in submission. Your mind has vanished in place of images of lightning, bolts and sparks and cracks of pleasure that burst in your mind with every tug of the ropes leave you helpless against me. You know you will be punished. Your mind screams no as you struggle desperately against me, my voice strict as I warn to you, don't fucking come. But as I lean myself forward, you see my used and pink pussy glistening, strands of wetness between us, the view of my shaved raw skin underneath my lace sends a final shock to your mind.

The core begins to boil over, your cock filled to the brim with that pulsating pressure. The web begins to vibrate like strings and the frame of the bed begins to shake. Your crotch clenches itself so desperately and tight as it does everything to force that orgasm out of you. You feel it rise. You feel it travel.

You're so desperate to stop it even as I say it. Don't cum. Don't cum. Be a good boy and hold it back. But I feel it.

I hear it. I hear your desperate panting. And I feel the waves of spasm in your cock. The orgasm building and building, growing more and more intense with every millisecond. Your cock so ready to shoot all that desperate cum all over my hands.

You feel the cum flowing through your cock ready to explode and release ready to disobey me. Feel my fist clenching around the head of your cock. Your swelling pleasure stops dead in its tracks as I squeeze the skin and opening shut. Your cum pushing and pushing against the closed exit filling you and making you ache. The spasms that were supposed to be so pleasurable only hurt as the pulse struggles against my grip.

I hold it tight, forcing the come back inside you. The blood finds no circulation and retreats back. Your cock slowly grows limp in my hand. The raw skin red and wrinkled from my mistreatment. I let you go and your floppy dick falls down on your balls.

The cum begins to leak slowly from your tip, not in a delicious pulse but in an agonising dribble. The thick load drips slowly across your balls and down on the bed. So disappointing, another worthless sub broken so easily. And now I have to punish you again. You know I take no pleasure in that, right?

But you leave me no other choice. A boy that can't follow orders must be locked up, locked up in chastity until they are ready to listen, locked in this room until their mind can be properly emptied. I climb off you, your denied cock throbbing and aching, your muscles already reawakened with pleasure when you see my body in the black lace. I extinguish the light of the candle. It falls into darkness.

You hear me reach into the bedside table and the tinkle of metal. You feel my hands on you as I pull the cage over your limp cock tight and cold. You feel as the key turns into the lock. I drape it on a silver chain round my neck. You hear light steps moving away from you before a door shuts unexpectedly.

A heavy latch 2 folds closed and locks. The web still strings you tight and the cum still leaking from your caged cock.