When you came to the door, I was ready for you. I'd been waiting and I was dressed in a sexy, black silk nightgown. You stood in the doorway for a moment to take in my appearance. When the light hit the nightgown, you could just barely see through it. My hair was let down and it brushed against my shoulders and framed my pretty face. The thin straps showed off my shoulders and exposed the clear, smooth skin. It had a steep, v-cut neckline trimmed with white lace and it came to mid-thigh. Although it hung loosely, it accentuated the curves of my hips and defined my breasts. I was wearing black stockings that disappeared up into the slip and your gaze traveled down to the black high heels on my feet. You tell me to turn around so that you could see my ass. The back of the gown was cut low and I feel your eyes follow the straps down to the small of my back where it comes together. You lift the bottom of the gown up and see that I am wearing lacy black panties. You also noticed that the stockings didn't go up much farther then where the gown ended and that they were trimmed with white lace as well. I know that you like what you see.
You close the front door and lock it behind you. You grab a fistful of my hair in your strong hands to pull my head back and you proceeded to kiss my neck. You bring the other hand up to touch my breasts and the feeling of your hands rubbing the silk gown across my nipples instantly makes them hard. You whisper in my ear, "Lead the way to the bedroom. I have something special in mind". It wasn't until then that I noticed the bag you'd brought with you.
You tell me to sit down on my bed and to stay there. When I ask you what is in the bag, you say, "Be a good girl and speak when you're spoken to or given permission otherwise. If you behave yourself and be patient, you'll find out what I've brought for you soon". It turns me on when you call me a good girl and you know that, so you don't hesitate to say it when I do something that pleases you. I remain silent and attempt to be patient even though I'm squirming in my place and already becoming deeply aroused by the mystery of your plans.
You cross the room, bag in hand, to my bed but you put it on the floor when you go to sit next to me. You know that I'm only getting more curious and anxious to know what the contents of your bag are and I know that you'll keep me waiting until you think I've been teased enough. I begin to feel my submission and it's a feeling that I revel in.
You begin to touch my breasts through the gown and I start to get aroused as my nipples, once again, become hard beneath the touch of your knowing and capable fingers. You slide your hand down to my belly and stop there. You can see how much it turns me on and you love do to tease. Your hand goes back up to the back of my neck and you start to play with my hair until my eyes close in pleasure. You know how this practice turns me on.
You violently grab my hair and snap my head back to kiss my neck and nibble on my ears. It's a welcome pain that makes my body tremble with pleasure and anticipation. You hear me start to breathe a little heavier and this encourages you to kiss farther down my neck, towards my breasts. Your other hand slides under my gown to spread my legs so you can touch me through my panties. The feeling of the lace rubbing against my shaved pussy is too much and I let out a sensual groan. I'm getting so wet that you can feel it through them, but you don't slip your hand inside. The urge to protest strikes me, but I hold my tongue. I know that even a simple know would warrant a severe punishment from you since you've made it clear I was not allowed to speak during this session.
You ask me if I like it or if I want you to stop, even though you know the answer. I barely manage to do anything more then breathe the words, "No, Sir. I don't want you to stop."
You instruct, "Beg me, my sweet little slut."
"Please, don't stop, Sir. I want you to keep going, please", I say in response. I can see how turned on you get by this, but I know that that wont be enough. I know you well enough to expect that you'll instruct me to say what you'd like to hear next. And you do.
"Tell me that you're my nasty little girl. Tell me what you want, cunt. Tell me that you want to be my little slut. Tell me how much you like it when I use you. Tell me what a naughty cunt. You like it when I hurt you, don't you bitch? Tell me slut!"
I keep my head down while I tell you what you want to hear. The humiliation of saying these things makes me wetter still and I can feel the moisture spreading to my thighs.
You put your strong hand on the back of my head and force me over your lap. You tell me to keep count and if I lose count, it will mean another 20 swats for me. Often I consider intentionally losing count, but I never dare.
As you inflict 20 hard, quick and sharp smacks on my ass, I begin to grind my pussy against your leg and you remind me that I wasn't permitted to move. You consider the punishment for this and you decide that it earns me a flogging.
You stand me up in front of my canopy bed with my back facing you. You remove 4 scarves from your bag, I assume, and tightly secure my arms and legs to the posts. I received 20 hard strokes. 3 over each breast, 3 on the inside of each thigh, 6 on the backs of my legs and my ass and 2 lighter strokes on my already dripping wet pussy.
You tell me what a good little girl I am and ask me if I'm ready to find out what's in the bag. I eagerly nod my head and reply, "Yes, Sir."
