Carving: A Written Submission by C4

Last thing to do before bed, present myself to Mistress for inspection. Permission granted long ago, I freely entered her room, stepped in front of the bed and kneeled myself, face down. And waited. Waited for a little longer than usual, so I looked up to see her still wearing her domme attire, playing with a kitchen knife, tapping it to make me notice it. Apprehension struck me for a second, but I decided to not question it. The sight of my armed mistress was too attention-grabbing for me.

“Strip down to your underwear”, she commanded and I obeyed. On the cold floor on all fours with just my bra and panties, she offered me something unusual: “would you like a gift? How about a tramp stamp?” I just looked into nothingness as I didn’t knew what to say, but she was already walking towards me. Positioned easily and comfortably behind me, knife in hand, crotch against butt, she asked me again: “Would you like a tramp stamp?”, in a more rhetorical question tone, as if answering “no” would change anything that would happen.

But a tramp stamp is a tattoo, it took me a while to put two and two together, it only clicked for me when the tip of the blade started tracing and dancing around my back. I wanted to say yes and no at the same time, so only silence came out of my mouth. She grabbed my hair, lifted my head, and pretended to slice my throat with the dull edge. “I can make your silence more permanent if you want…”, so I whimpered a pathetic “yes.”

The blade traveled around my shoulder, down my spine, and stopped sightly above my panties. “Today I felt like carving you up like the piece of meat you are; and make it obvious to you and everyone else who you belong to.” At the same time she penetrated me with no resistance or protest from me, and the first incision was made. A jolt of pain and pleasure shot through my back. I am very scared and my eyes can’t focus on anything. “Bite on this, it will help, and will keep you quiet”; she tightens a ballgag on me. She takes her time with the blade, and thrusts inside me every now and then. Her pleasure for the night was guaranteed, mine was still in question. But as the blade bled me and her cock used me, my mind started going somewhere else.

Mistress… fucking me like a tramp… carving a tramp stamp on me… with a knife… and not an ounce of complaint from me so far… Slowly, as she permitted, I started to crawl toward the bed’s side to hold myself better. I pulled a pillow, buried my head in it and hugged tight. One particular incision made me flinch, and my right leg had a large spasm. She thrusted violently inside me and slapped my ass hard. I was being bad. I tried to make it up by arching my back better for her and spreading my legs further for her. I thought maybe making myself even more accessible and vulnerable would signal an apology, but she would have none of that. She grabbed and pulled my hair, fucked me hard for a few minutes, and then let go.

“I expect you to control yourself and eat the pain if you have to”, she said as she pulled out and threatened to penetrate my anus by poking and rubbing against it, pondering the possibilities. I muffled something begging her not to switch holes, and a promise to not to kick and trash around too much. She seemed to understand my mumbling, she pushed me back into the pillow, and resumed the slow rhythmic thrust of her engine of pleasure. She was in no rush to paint my insides white, which meant I could expect a large thick load later.

The more she cut me, the more I started to understand something, the more my mind started to parallax. I am an animal. And my owner is cutting me up. This is my purpose. Right now, my body was her canvas, and her knife her brush, and I will carry this work of art with me forever. The sad, predictable cries of pain became bestial roars of incomprehensible bestial thoughts. A worked and deformed ballgag did little to silence them. My rationality was gone, so was my situational awareness. There was me, a bed, and my owner, fucking and cutting me, and we were now both enjoying it. Each cut, each incision, each slice, they were something for me to be proud of.

I managed to spit out the gag, and screamed “harder!” in a deep, macabre timbre. To which she clocked me in the side of head with the handle of the knife. The temporary confusion made me stare into nothingness again, and into this nothingness I kept staring. My mind turned inwards even more. It was like a trance. Finally I had lost my humanity. Finally I had fully surrendered to the situation. Each breath was just a roar or a groan. I could almost feel them synchronized to her thrusting. She stopped carving my lower back, dropped the knife, and started to strangle me. Her work was done, but she still needed to finish something else.

Now she was definitely going to fuck me with an objective in mind, and she knew what she was doing. Her hands around my neck, I could breathe barely enough not to suffocate, but also enough for me to fully comprehend my position as the dominated. Yes! She was going to make me cum, a reward for being good. But she was just edging. She stopped, grabbed my hair and ordered me to turn around. She stood up and looked down upon me, presenting her crotch to my face. “Good girl” I heard, as I started to suck before she ordered me to. I hugged her body tight and deepthroated her like a hungry whore, working her entire shaft back and forth. She came sooner than I expected, but I kept it all inside my mouth. She’d be angry and disappointed if a single drop ended on the floor. I savored the juice in my mouth and swallowed it all. I looked up into her eyes, and opened my mouth for her to see. A smile crossed her face and I heard another “good girl”.

Suddenly, it hit me how tired I was, and I collapsed to the ground, my face right against her boots. She used one of her boots to gently caress my head, and I felt drowsy and sleepy for that. “Maybe… you do deserv-” were the last things I heard before just closing my eyes and shutting down. I woke up in my bed, limbs chained, ass up. She had picked me up and carried me to my room. She climbed on top of me and whispered in my ear “you’re going to orgasm now” before grabbing and supporting herself on my shoulders and fucking me. It took only a few minutes of deep penetration before my body started to warm up, and then each thrust started sending waves of boiling hot water throughout my body. She gave me a long, long orgasm, the kinds only she is capable of giving me. After it was all over, after my last exhausted whimper, I closed my eyes for the last time for the night. She played a little more with my breasts and my ass, and then kissed me good night.

It had been a good night.

This gorgeous submission was written by a submissive of mine who wishes to be known as C4. There’s a particular satisfaction to hearing the desires of a deeply submissive subject, a thrill to be so far inside their head that one can experience vicariously their needs.

This piece is one of several works C4 has written for Me, and each will be posted in time. I welcome submissions such as these with open arms, and warm praises, and between you and I these pieces are far more erotic to me than any image I’ve been sent. 

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