Anything for You Sir

Author's note - Hi everyone! I hope you all enjoy my latest story. I love hearing feedback and knowing what you all think of my stories, so don't be shy! Have fun :)

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I checked my watch, making sure it was exactly 7 o'clock before knocking on the room door. I had been pacing down the corridor for the past five minutes wanting to be exactly on time after the last time I had been late for our hotel stay. He hadn't been particularly pleased with me and I didn't want a repeat of the consequences for my lateness.

He kept me waiting, but I didn't dare look at my watch - as far as I knew he was watching me through the peephole in the door. I kept my gaze down at the floor, my hands clasped together behind my back. I was wearing his favourite dress - red with black outlined roses, fitted to the waist before flowing out over my hips, coming to an end an inch above my knee. The neckline was a low scoop, my cleavage displayed for his eyes only. I wore an all lace black bra and hold ups beneath my dress but nothing else as per his instructions. Simple black flats on my feet completed my outfit. My make up was natural but pretty and my hair blow dried and falling over my shoulders.

I licked my lips nervously as I heard the door handle click, taking a deep breath as the room carpet became visible, then his shoes. My heart was thudding in my chest, and I'm sure I heard a chuckle as he saw me take in a sharp breath. I don't think he would have known that I was recalling the times he has made me lick those shoes clean as a greeting to me though. He can't possibly be in my head that much.

"They could do with a clean my lovely little sub, but let's leave that for another day, shall we?" He says as a greeting, my cheeks flushing furiously as I wonder how he could possibly know what I'm thinking. My eyes dart up to his and he grins at me. I can't help but smile back, his smile infectious, the blush slowly dulling down to a faint colouring in my cheeks as he steps back and welcomes me into the room. Picking up my bag I follow him in, turning to close the door gently behind me. I place my bag down in front of the cupboard just by the door as he watches me.

"I did enjoy putting you in the cupboard the first time we played," he walks up behind me, his hand coming up to brush his fingertips down the side of my neck. I let out a small moan in reaction to his fingers on my neck and at the memory of him gently forcing me into the cupboard before tying my hands behind my back. He closed the door, telling me he had some things to do. Tidying me away until I was needed. Never before had I felt so objectified.

"Take off your shoes and jewellery. I'll be sitting by the window."

I didn't hesitate, undoing the clasp on my watch and tucking it into a pocket in my overnight bag, my necklace following alongside my rings. I slipped my shoes off and placed them neatly next to my bag. I turned around then to see him sitting in the armchair by the window. The curtains were pulled back and the view was so peaceful. The hotel was in a secluded wooded area. He had a room at the very back corner of the hotel and outside the window was a small grassy area with trees beyond as far as the eye could see. A path came from the left of the window and disappeared into the woods approximately ten metres before the room window. No one would see in our window unless they deliberately ventured from the path.

I walked slowly over towards him, allowing him plenty of time to look over my body. His eyes were so focused on me. Taking longer to travel over my breasts, taking in the curve of my waist. My hips swayed side to side, subconsciously attempting to use my body to seduce him. I wanted him to want me as badly as I do him. Desperate and deep desire, an overwhelming feeling of lust.

There were two armchairs by the window, the one he was sat in and another directly across from him. I came to a halt less than a metre from him, slowly bending down until my knees touched the floor. I spread them slightly and rested back down on my heels, my hands resting on my thighs.

His hand came to rest on my face, tucking my hair gently behind my ear, fingers tracing my jaw before tilting my chin up, encouraging my eyes to meet his.

"Good girl," he said softly, leaning over and kissing me deeply. My heart was racing once more, I felt my pussy flood with arousal, my thighs already slick with my anticipation and excitement. His hand moved round to the nape of my neck, entangling his fingers upwards into my hair. He grasped a handful, tugging sharply, pulling me away from the softness of his lips. I groaned in protest, but didn't fight him, my protest turning to an expression of enjoyment as he continued his kisses down my neck toward my cleavage.

My chest rising and falling rapidly as my breathing quickened. I kept my hands on my thighs as his hand pulled me further back, my shoulders dropping back to push my breasts out for him. I felt his teeth nipping the soft flesh, biting harder each time, eliciting small gasps from me at first, continuing until I'm yelping with each one. His lips travel back up the path they came before capturing my mouth again.

Breaking the kiss, he kisses me lightly on the top of my head, whispering in my ear again, "good girl." My entire body breaks out in goosebumps as I savour his praise, a shy smile spreading across my lips.

"Thank you, Sir."

He leans back in the chair, taking me in. My dress is flared out over my legs and my breasts are enhanced with my shoulders being pushed back. I watch him watching me, shifting slightly side to side a couple of times, out of anticipation and need more than discomfort. My clit is throbbing with my need for him and I can't keep the smile from my lips.

He motions for me to turn and face the window and I do so swiftly, placing my hands on the floor to turn then returning them to my thighs.

"Quiet out there isn't it? I wonder if anyone going past will happen to look up and see you over the next couple of days. Who knows what you might be doing in front of this window at any given time," he noticed my blush. "Oh you would like that wouldn't you? You're just a little slut who wants everyone to see her doing what she does best, aren't you? Don't shake your head, you know it's true. Just admit it. Tell me."

"I," I hesitate, his hand quickly cups my right breast and pinches my nipple hard through the fabric.

"Say it little sub, don't make me tell you again."

"I'm a little slut who wants everyone to see me Sir. I want everyone to see me submitting to my Master," I manage to get out, gasping several times as he teases me, releasing and tightening his grip on my tender nipple. I keep telling myself no one can see. It's the wrong angle. But the doubt is there. He has made me wonder how much is visible.

"Good girl. You should probably try to remember what happens to bad little subs who don't do as they're told."

"Yes Sir, I'm sorry for hesitating Sir. It won't happen again Sir," I say as his hand moves across to my left nipple, taunting me in the same way, making me squirm under his grip.

"Turn around, back towards the window," he watches me turn. "Now bend over. I want your head on the ground, hands by your head."

"Yes Sir," I reply before carrying out his order. My cheeks are blushing, thinking how exposed I'm going to be in this position. My pussy is uncovered and visible to anyone who could possibly see in the room. I have no idea if there is anyone out there or not. I can only follow his instructions. I only want to follow his instructions. To please him.

He stands, and I hear him moving around the room. I keep my cheek pressed against the floor, although I'm desperate to watch him as he moves about. Desperate to know what he's doing, what toys he might be gathering, whether he's looking at me, whether he is paying any attention to me whatsoever or is he unpacking. The possibilities run through my mind until I come to a quiet peace, bringing my mind to silence. Submitting to him mentally as well as physically. This is what I know he wants, and something I crave every bit as much as the physical stimulation and sensations. Such a blank canvas, accepting and willing. Just for him.

My entire body is relaxed as I wait for his attentions. My body feels alive, every nerve tingling and anticipating the possibilities. I'm in a daze of submission when I feel slight pressure on my hair. He is standing on my hair, holding me down in place. My scalp stings slightly, just the faintest pressure pulling, a reminder of his control. If I were to pull away, it would hurt an awful lot more and I'm fully aware of that.

"There's a couple walking down the path towards the trail right now. Imagine what they might see if they looked up here. Or if they went slightly off the path," he paused, "imagine what they would definitely see."

I start to struggle under his foot, but quickly stop as the stinging grows.

"They would see a little slut with her ass in the air. Being held in place by a man's foot. What do you think they would think of you? Would they judge you? I think they definitely would. They would talk about you. He would probably want to fuck you. He would know that you would probably do anything. That you would be a really dirty little slut. She on the other hand would probably judge you. Think you were a whore, a desperate little whore."

I'm squirming around by now, but I can't get free. My scalp is burning. "Please Sir, please let me away from the window Sir. I don't want to be seen Sir, please Sir, please," I start to beg.

"Quiet. Just accept it."

"Please Sir," I whimper quietly, "please." I start to lower my ass down to my feet, hoping to at least conceal my pussy.

He leans over me and spanks my ass hard. "Get up," he commands, continuing to spank my ass, over and over until my back is arched with my ass high in the air again. He stops and my skin tingles as the burning heat spreads through my backside.

"Spread your knees. Wider. Do not move," he orders before releasing my hair from his grip. He isn't gone long before he is back. He stands beside me now, on the other side from the direction I'm looking in. I want to turn my head, but don't want to risk the consequences. I remain still, my knees spread two feet apart. The skirt of my dress has fallen down over my upper body. I'm completely exposed to the air of the room. And whoever happens to see in the window. Completely vulnerable to whatever Sir has planned for me.

He waits, watching my body as my breathing regulates. I'm making an effort to breath deeply and slowly. Readying myself for whatever he gives me. Even that doesn't prepare me for the first strike of the cane across my ass. Not as hard as when he uses it to punish me, but still hard enough to make my entire body jump forward and a small shout escape my throat.

"Back into position," he tells me when I take just a little too long.

"Yes Sir, I'm sorry Sir," I reply as I quickly correct myself.

"I want to mark you everywhere. I want you to have my marks on every inch of your flesh. Your legs, your arms, your stomach, your back, your tits. Everywhere. I want you to be reminded of me every time your clothes brush against your skin. Every glimpse of yourself in the mirror for the next few days."

My breath catches as he gets in my head, as he builds my anxiety up, making me nervous. He lands the next stroke across my ass again, following it with another. I keep count in my head, never knowing when he might expect me to tell him how many he has landed on my ass. After twenty-four strokes, my ass is burning. I'm struggling to keep my ass in the air for him. My breathing is ragged and I'm begging him, "please no Sir, please no more."

The feeling is so intense, the burning, the stinging. My fingers are clawing at the carpet, my eyes are closed tightly as a weak defence mechanism, hoping to block out some of the pain that way. He stops.

"Thank you Sir, thank you," I gasp out as I feel his hands running over my welted ass. They sting, but soothe as his fingers run over the raised welts.

"Absolutely beautiful, you look so good marked like this little sub. Marks of ownership across your submissive ass."

I thank him again, moaning now as his fingers start to slide past my pussy lips. He grazes my clit with a knuckle, making me press back against his hand.

"For all your protesting, you would think you didn't like the cane. But your pussy certainly tells a different story, doesn't it? You're dripping pussy juice like a good little whore right now. Can you feel it running down your thigh? It's halfway down right now," he uses his finger to run up my thigh, gathering my juice on his fingers. He places his hand just in front of my mouth and I don't hesitate to start licking his fingers, sucking them to clean my juices from him. I'm moaning around his fingers, wishing they were his cock.

"You're a good little sucker aren't you. Why is that I wonder?"

I am too busy concentrating on his fingers and don't respond. His other hand comes down hard on my caned ass making me scream around his fingers.

"Answer me bitch."

"I, I'm sorry Sir. I didn't hear the question Sir," I stammer out.

He sighs, before speaking slowly and condescendingly, "I said, I wonder why you're a good little sucker?"

"I, I don't know Sir."

"Wrong answer," he spanks my ass, "try again." He keeps up a steady pace on my ass, making it difficult for me to form any words.

"Because I enjoy it Sir," I venture.

"Try again."

"Because I like sucking cock Sir?" I question.

"Close."

"Because I suck cock so much Sir. Because I'm a cocksucking little whore Sir," I babble desperately, needing his hand to stop its steady assault on my ass.

"Sorry, I didn't hear that properly," he says. I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"Because I'm a cocksucking little whore Sir. My mouth is only good for sucking cock Sir, please Sir, please stop Sir. Ahh, please, please, I'm a cocksucking little whore Sir," I beg and admit to such a depraved title.

"Why didn't you just say that? You know it's true after all," he taunted me, his fingers trailing across my pussy again.

"I'm sorry Sir, I wasn't sure what you wanted me to say Sir. I know I'm a cocksucking whore Sir, I just didn't want to say it out loud Sir," I admit.

The cool air of the room is skimming over my ass, making it prickle and sting more as it settles down to a steady burn.

"You should always admit to these things little sub. You know what I want to hear. I want to hear the truth and I want to hear you admit to your deepest and darkest desires. I want to hear you admitting my control over you, and your acceptance of what you are. And what is that?"

"A cocksucking whore, Sir," I reply immediately.

"Good girl," he grasps my hair in his fist and pulls back hard, bringing me up to my knees while I squeal and try not to bring my hands up to my head to try to release the pressure on my scalp.

"Let's revisit an earlier lesson. Which hole is your favourite to get fucked in?"

My eyes flash as I remember him pinning me into the corner, asking me that very question. I responded truthfully at first, saying my pussy. I recall how he slapped me across the face, telling me to try again. I said my mouth. That gained me another slap and an order to try again. I said my ass, reluctantly, although I'd came when he bent me over and forced his cock into my ass, I still felt uncomfortable with anal. But that only got me another slap. He then proceeded to tell me that the correct answer is whichever hole he happens to be using at the time is my favourite, while slapping my face several times more. I remember staring up at him, dazed, in subspace, wanting his hand across my cheek again as I told him that my favourite hole to get fucked in is whichever hole he is using at the time.

He watches my eye flickering as I relive the memory, "answer me correctly, do not try to get me to slap the correct answer out of you."

My eyes widen in shock at how he knew what I was thinking, "I'm sorry for the delay in my response Sir, I was lost in my memory of that day Sir. My favourite hole to get fucked in is whichever hole you are using at any time Sir." I lick my lips as I watch him take in my confession.

"Good girl," he responds, then slaps my left cheek three time repeatedly.

I look up at him, mouthing the words thank you Sir. He kisses me hard, his teeth capturing my lip, biting down hard briefly before pulling away. He pulls my dress up over my head before it even registers what he's doing. He unclips my bra, sliding it off my body quickly. My tits weigh down heavily, my nipples already hard from how excited I am. His hands are immediately drawn to them, cupping them in both hands, rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I groan and press into his hands further.

He takes both nipples in his grip and pulls up. I arch and stretch my back as far as is possible, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. It's pointless, he takes me further than that, so all I can do is breathe through the burning pain. He loosens his grip, letting me slowly rest back down towards the ground, before pulling sharply forward again. He does this several times, making my breath quicken every time. The pain is delicious and is making my pussy needy for attention. By the last time, my hips are thrusting in mid air and I'm begging for permission to touch myself. He just shakes his head and lets go of my nipples.

My hands are on my thighs, my legs spread, and they're edging closer and closer to my pussy. He sees this and slaps my tits hard, catching my nipples, making me correct my position quickly. The burning in my nipples is spreading now thanks to the swift spanks. He turns away from me and comes back with some rope and clamps. I inhale sharply.

He tells me to put my arms behind my back and I comply, holding them in the box position. He quickly binds my arms behind my back and ties the rope expertly around my chest. The rope against my skin relaxes me, the confines of it making me feel safe and under his control. My mind flashes back to all the times he has tied me in a similar way. The times he has used the chest harness as a handle to hold on to as he's fucked me, laying me down on my back, my arms uncomfortable behind me as he pounds his cock deep into my pussy. Laying me back on the couch, my cunt at the edge, my legs over his shoulders and his hand gripping the rope between my tits pulling me towards him to meet every thrust.

I love the feeling of the rope. As he runs the ends under and over the passes, I can't help but shiver as it glides across my skin, especially when it makes contact with my nipples. His hands are strong and firm as they move the rope around, lifting my breasts to get the rope snug and flat. I lean back against him as he works and he stops every so often to admire his work and to smile softly at me. I feel so content and safe by the time he is finished, the stimulation and interaction pushing me towards subspace.

He crouches down in front of me and picks up the clamps from where he had dropped them in front of me. He uses his other hand to massage and tease my tits. Pinching, stroking, squeezing and spanking periodically. I'm pushing my chest out towards him, wanting more and more. He concentrates once more on my nipples, pulling on them hard, making me moan before opening one clamp and holding it open over my nipple. I look up at him, as he always demands I hold eye contact while he applies clamps. His eyes so dark and full of lust. He smiles a sadistic kind of smile as he releases his grip slowly, watching me frown, my mouth opening to moan, my breath quickening as it is fully released and bites into the tender flesh.