If you are under 18, get off my Lit page and get off Literotica. The stories will still be here when you are legally able to access them.
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Early in the day, I received a text from you: "Our room. Naked. 6:00 p.m." I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but knew that since I am yours, whatever you wished would bring me joy and pleasure, your satisfaction paramount to me.
I drove home from a long day at the office and found the house quiet and dark. It was peaceful, relaxing, and I felt the frustrations of the office peeling away as I walked to our room. I slowly slid off my skirt as I entered the room, tossing it over the back of a chair. The shoes were kicked off without a care for where they landed. It was one of the rare days where I felt like wearing panties. They matched the thigh high black lace topped stockings. I eased out of my suit coat, then my blouse, tossing each aside with equal lack of care. The bed beckoned for multiple reasons: the tantalization of being drawn into your web; as well as a need to just lay down and rest.
I noted it was only 5:30 and felt there was time for a few minute's rest before I needed to finish preparing for you. I laid down, wearing nothing but my stockings, bra and panties, curled on my side. Without realizing it, I was soon fast asleep.
I dreamed of you, my unconscious mind playing with ideas, both of things you've done and things you've yet to do. But I was pulled out of the delightful journey when I felt your fingers twine into my hair. As you tugged, you leaned in and I could feel your hot breath on my ear before I opened my eyes.
"The instructions were simple. Naked. And yet you are laid out here, dressed like a whore. Disregard of my instructions bring consequences, don't they?" you hissed as you pulled my head back, exposing my neck. You punctuated your meaning by sharply biting my shoulder.
With my eyes still closed, my head held tightly in your grip, I whispered. "Please, I didn't mean to fail you. Please don't punish me, my kind sir."
"I...will...do...as...I...please," you growled back at me, shaking my head with each word for emphasis.
All I whispered was, "Please." We both wondered if I was inviting the punishment or returning to the hope that you not take umbrage at this infraction.
"Stand." The command, a simple word chilling my skin. The authority in your voice triggering my fear response that can also be so delicious, relishing the adrenaline flooding my body, but rationally, in a small recess of my mind, knowing I was in the safety and security with which you protect me.
"Walk to the closet and retrieve the crop." Willingly, belying my earlier protest, I did as you asked. I wanted nothing more than to please you and upon my return, I fell to my knees, raising the crop up to present it to you, head bowed in supplication.
"To the center of the bed, kneel, feet toward the foot of the bed," you snapped, grabbing the crop with one hand, and my hair with the other, as you pulled me bodily up. I scrambled to comply. I wasn't quick enough and felt the light lash of the crop against the bottom of my stockinged feet as I moved into position.
With an unspoken command, born of knowing both our desires, my arms immediately went to the small of my back, bound together by my own volition, hands grasping the opposing forearms, my own desire to bring you nothing but pleasure, my need to please you in every possible way compelling the delicious surrender to you. You walked around to the other side of the bed. I felt your eyes scrutinizing me.
"Who do you belong to?" you said as the crop lightly fell against my ass.
My ass flexed at the blow. "You. I am yours." I shuddered slightly from the brief, fleeting pain.
"Tell me one of the basic things being mine means," the power in your voice consuming my mind. The crop trailed across the curve of my ass, tracing the outline of my panties, the swell of my cheeks, the curve of my hip, the contours of my thighs.
My skin prickled at the tickling of the crop, and I whispered, "I have given myself to you, to use as you wish. It is your right and privilege to take me in whatever you want."
"Did you interfere with my wishes?" you asked, lightly striking my ass.
"Yes, sir. But it was a minor thing, please, please no more," I pleaded. My nipples became obviously hard, even through the bra, my body giving away my true desire.
"And now you presume to direct my actions." I suddenly felt the crop come down three times in quick succession on my ass, each blow increasing in power. You quickly struck another three blows across the back of my stockinged thighs, with enough force that for the next few days I would be sweetly reminded of your power, your authority, your strength every time I sat down.
You then laid the crop on the bed in front of me. "Eyes to the crop. Think about your behavior and what's to come because you could not follow a simple request."
I looked carefully at this instrument of pleasure, wielded with your power and strength. As I contemplated what you might do to my body, I felt you reach between my legs and slowly unroll the stocking off one thigh. Balancing on one knee, I stretched my leg out to the side so that you could remove it completely before you stripped the other leg as well. I immediately returned to a kneeling position, as you slowly walked around the room, stretching the moments out, knowing my mind was squirming at the thought of the crop before me.
Feeling something metallic sliding in just above my ankles, you forced me to move my knees further apart. Soon, my ankles were bound to a spreader bar. I balanced carefully, in a kneeling position, eyes on the crop, mind still whirling with all that you would do; knowing whatever was to come was your right and your privilege.
I felt you unhooking the back of my bra, removing it and releasing my bound hands with a mere touch. As I breathed in quickly, you stripped my breasts bare and picked up the crop. Understanding what was to come, I couldn't help but look to your eyes and plead, "No, please, no." My arms were again quickly bound by the force of your will, behind my back.
Your face transformed from stern to something more powerful, a primal, animalistic urge coming to your eyes, clear for me to see, clear for me to feel your control sweeping over me. It was as if you relished my helplessness, my pleading eyes, my naked breasts, my bound legs, my arms bound behind my back with nothing more than a thought. You whisked the crop through the air, off to the side of the bed, the snap reverberating in the room. My nipples grew instantly hard.
Noting my response, you immediately struck my breasts with the crop, a slight smile coming over your face as I inhaled sharply and arched my back into the pain. Again, you struck a blow, landing the tip on my nipple. And again to the other breast. Five more blows in quick succession. I cried out.
"Remain...quiet...slut," you punctuated with each of the next three blows. My mind, centered on only pleasing you, held back any vocal responses. But I could not hold back my physical responses. My breathing quickened, my skin prickled more, blood rushed to the marks you had laid out on my breasts, my nipples remained hard, a sweet oblivious smile that comes over me at the height of pleasurable pain washed over my face. You relished every unconscious response, realizing they were triggered solely by your power over me.
