He had been away for some time, working overseas. His schedule had not allowed Him to call her as often as He would have liked. He had felt far from her. His little one. His good girl.
He pulled up to the house, noticing that she had left some lights on for Him. It was late, and she would probably be asleep. A wicked smile crept across his features as He mused, looking forward to waking her.
He quietly closed the front door behind Him. He could see that a light in the kitchen was still on, from beneath the doorway, and He made His way down the corridor.
He gently pushed the door open and... His breath was taken away.
she sat waiting for him on their small kitchen table, wearing only a long sheath of red fabric around her breasts, fashioned in the shape of a large bow. One end of the length of the fabric dragged on the table along her thigh, while the other end veiled between her legs, barely concealing the fact that she wore nothing else.
her eyes were covered by a red blindfold, made of the same fabric, tied behind her head. her mouth was lightly open, with only the barest touch of gloss. her collar-bone and ribs above her breasts looked divine, her neck regal, and her bare arms sculpted and long. her hands rested palms up in her lap, her knees slightly parted. her bare feet at the end of her smooth legs dangled off the edge. Candles lit about the room bathed her skin in an other-worldly glow. Her hair was still damp, as though she had just stepped out of the shower.
He quietly put down His briefcase, allowing the soft click of His shoes on the tile floor to announce His presence as He approached her. He could smell the scent of her perfume - oh, how He had missed it - and He breathed it in deeply, quietly.
she struggled to contain her smile. she could only hope that He was pleased. she would not know until He spoke.
He walked slowly around the side of the table and behind, leaned in close to left ear, and asked in his lowest, most serious voice, "Have you been a good girl?"
He leaned in closer, brushing His lips over the nape of her neck, breathing her in, her scent and the heat coming off of her freshly showered skin intoxicating Him. Outwardly, His composure remained grave.
she nodded, hesitantly, trembling. "Yes, Sir."
He continued his slow trajectory around the table, this time leaning in to her right ear. "Is that so... and is this how you are supposed to greet Me?"
He enjoyed toying with her, He could feel her anticipation rising, fearing a punishment. He trailed his finger under her chin, then along her shoulder, down her arm, her wrist.
"No, Sir... i thought..." her voice trailed off as he silenced her lips with one finger.
"you thought well, little one. I am pleased by your welcome-home gift."
Resuming His place behind her, with one hand behind her neck He lowered her onto the table.
"Bend your knees and place your heels on the table, close to you." With this motion, the fabric fell aside, exposing her completely.
she could feel that His legs were to either side of her head, and could almost sense the heat of His erection in His pants, just above her forehead.
Placing His hands beneath her shoulders, He deftly slid her further up the table, so that her head hung off the edge directly before Him. He drew her arms above her, to either side of His hips. "Don't move."
Slowly, gently, He pulled the red fabric bow loose, and it tumbled open on the table. Taking both ends, He wrapped the stretchy material across her ribs, just below her breasts, and then beneath table and over again, binding her securely, then across and down to her ankles, wrapping the fabric around each before finally tying off the ends to the table legs.
Although He knew her submission was total, and there was no real need for her to be bound, He loved the sight of her, blindfolded and helpless. His. He also knew that she loved this feeling of helplessness, of unquestioning surrender. He stood back a moment to admire His work.
she could hear the buckle of His belt being undone, the leather being pulled through the loops of His slacks in a swift, practiced motion, the "fwap!" as the end finally slipped through and back-lashed... but He did not bind her wrists with it. There was no need to, she did not dare move. her heartbeat raced, her breathing quickened. Her nipples were hard.
she felt Him shift slightly and something cold, leather - the belt - landing softly on her belly, just below her navel, and being dragged along her, between her breasts and finally up the side of her neck. Again; this time landing a little lower, and a littler harder, but softly still, and the languid dragging along her body. Again, a little lower, a little harder each time, not enough to hurt - not yet - but enough to make her want it. Landing on her clit now, hard enough to sting, but arousing her, making her bud swell. Again, the tip of the belt looping around and "fwap!" against the bottom of her cheeks. Again, and again, and then... nothing.
