As she stood in front of the mirror and admired her body she was naked but for her black hold ups with their lace tops and her black high stiletto heeled shoes. Her white skin contrasted nicely against the black. Her brown hair hung neatly, eyes smoky, ringed in black and her lips painted red just as he liked them. Very little jewellery, just her pearls as always, milky white against her skin. Well little obvious jewellery anyway....
As always she wore her other rings, one in her clit hood piercing and the other two in her outer labia. Hanging from them, locking them together was the one inch solid silver padlock, heavy and cold. Ever since it had been locked in place it had been a constant reminder; the weight tugging on her labia erotically at the least movement she made, the coldness brushing against her skin in the most sensitive of places. It had been driving her crazy just like he knew it would, a constant reminder, not that she needed any, that she was his, totally and completely his.
She dimmed the lights a little, turned on some soft music and lit a perfumed candle sending a waft of musk into the evening air. She wanted this night to be perfect. She pulled a cushion from the couch and knelt on it on the floor of the living room, waiting, anticipating what was to come.
She heard the door and knelt up, straightening her back, her ass towards the door but still keeping her eyes lowered as she heard him cross the room. She could feel herself growing wet already. She felt him trace a finger up her spine before entwining his hand in her hair tugging it hard and making her gasp.
"What are you?" he said.
"I'm your slut," she replied.
"And?" he asked.
"Your bitch"
"And?"
"And your slave," she murmured, feeling like electric shocks were running through her at the sound of his voice and the familiar words.
"And what am I?" he asked.
"You are my Master and the best I have ever had" she responded.
He undid her pearls and putting them aside put his hand around her throat and squeezed. First gently, then harder, knowing how much she liked the feel of it, of being held by him in this way, the sensation of the physical control as well as the mental control that was always there.
"My slut," he murmured, "yes you really are."
He slapped her face suddenly, before roughly pushing her head down so her forehead was resting on the floor. His fingers traced down her spine again and then his hand spanked her ass hard.
"Stick your ass in the air, slut," he commanded her, "but keep your forehead on the floor."
She wiggled slightly as she raised her butt, earning herself another slap so hard she nearly yelped out loud.
"So are you wet, slut?" he murmured, walking behind her. "Oh yes, you are I can see that, see your cunt lips glistening, that padlock is all wet. Now did I give you permission for that?"
She stayed quiet, waiting for him to give her permission to reply but none was forthcoming. His fingers, continued to trace her spine, sliding over her ass cheeks before slipping between her moist lips and then the feeling of two fingers sliding into her pussy.
"You are so wet, slut, I bet you can hardly even feel that," he commented matter of factly.
Pulling them out he rammed all of his fingers hard into her up to his knuckles, twisting them and playing with her as she began to moan and move against him unable to stop herself.
"Oh no, you don't get to come yet," he told her pulling them out as she whimpered, not daring to beg him not to stop.