"Angel?"
"Yes Sir?" I asked quietly, looking up at you slowly.
We had been sitting at the dinner table. You'd created a wonderful meal for the two of us. You love to cook, and I love your cooking. You are a Master in the kitchen, and in the bedroom.
"I have plans for us tonight."
I nodded. I knew you had been planning something. I could tell. I always knew. I could read you.
"You do want to be my good girl don't you?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You do know how to please me, don't you?"
I nodded again.
"I need to hear your answer, pet."
"Yes Sir."
My heart was pounding. Just what had you concocted? Was it something we'd talked about before? Could it be a fantasy we'd explored only in words, late at night, in bed.
"Good girl, now come with me."
I expected you to immediately lead me downstairs, into the dungeon you'd created, the sanctuary that was home to some of our most intimate play. But instead, you took my hand gently, and lead me into the living room. There, candlelight guided our way. You put on some soft music, and approached me again.
"May I have this dance?"
I smiled, and accepted. You held me close, cupping my hand in yours. We moved to the beautiful notes filling the room. So far the evening had been quite relaxed, and enjoyable. I could feel my anxiety slipping out through my feet. I let myself fall into your body as it guided me around the floor.
Soon, you paused, stopped me, and let my arms fall to my sides. You put one hand gently under my chin, and raised my face up to yours. You smiled sweetly, and kissed my forehead.
"Now pet, I want you to trust me. You will please me tonight."
"Yes Sir, I want to please you, and make you happy." My smile shone brightly.
"Alright then." You took a step backward.
"Strip for me."
"Here?"
"Do you question me?" You asked sternly.
"No, Sir." I suddenly felt ashamed for my hesitance. You had never asked me to strip in the living room before, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't ask now. I should have known better.
I'd been wearing a simple dress that slipped off my shoulders and fell to the floor. I stood there, my arms at my sides, my eyes down, clad only in a bra, some beautiful lace panties, a garter belt, stockings and heels. I had spent a lot of time dressing for you tonight. You'd picked out my dress, but I'd chosen some of your favorite lingerie underneath.
I heard you breathe deeply at the sight of me, and I tried to conceal a smile of pride, as I knew I'd pleased you. I felt a blush pass over me, and I felt my pussy stirring, the stirring your voice can create. That small pulse inside of me, a sure sign I was to be dripping before long.
Then you walked up to me, and from behind your back you drew a leash. I could hear it, though I was not sure where it came from. I did not hear you move to pick it up.
"I know you don't like the leash pet, but you will wear it tonight."
My throat automatically started to constrict, I started to panic. You knew the affect this would have on me.
"Relax, my slut. Relax for me."
I took several deep breaths. Next, I felt you snap the leash around my neck.
"There, there, pet. You will be my good slut tonight."
Suddenly I felt the leather cuffs around my wrists, binding them behind me. Next you took out my favorite velvet and silk blindfold, and put it over my eyes. I wanted to cry out, to whimper, but I did not.
"Follow me slut."
I was scared of being lead by the leash, but you tugged, and I followed. I knew your house well enough to navigate, but you prompted me with directions.
"Step down, slut"
We were at the top of the stairs leading down into the dungeon. You were in front of me, leading, coercing me to follow. And I did. Slowly I made my way down the staircase, using your words as my guide.
When I felt stable ground beneath my feet, I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd made it so far.
"Tonight you will bring me great pleasure my slut."
I stood there, uncertain of where I really was, uncertain of my surroundings. Was I in the middle of the room? How many steps had I taken? Was I in front of the bench? Was I next to the cross? I was completely disorientated. I willed myself not to cry out, but I began to whimper.