The leaves rustling in the trees as a spring breeze ruffles the fabric of the air. Window open but blind pulled shut, she knows that the last light of the evening should be just streaking across the backyard.
The twitter of birds as they head to their nests to roost, and the baying of a dog makes her smile. It is a glorious evening, and she is dressing to annoy.
Her Master has a very specific dress code ...and she is feeling mischievous, positively contrary. She pulls on socks, panties, jeans and a pair of sneakers. All definitely on the list of no nos where it pertains to clothing. Running her fingers over ample breasts, she admires them in the mirror, and slips her arms through the loops of the bra, fastening it and pulling on a t-shirt. This outfit should get her the kind of attention she truly seeks tonight.
This is not a kiss me softly, pat me on the bottom and make love to me kind of night. She wants wild and wanton...excitement tinged with danger. The kind of night that keeps her on edge, wanting more.
She arrives late...on purpose, knowing that that by itself is a punishable offense. When he opens the door, the darkness in his eyes causes her to step back. He reaches out for her, his strong hand grabbing her forearm, fingers wrapping around punishing, bruising and he pulls her forward, she loses her balance and lands heavily against him, knocking the very breath from her lungs.
Gasping for air, his hand still gripping her arm he whispers in her ear, "You are late." Her bottom lip trembles, as she nods, an apology poised to spill out, her mind racing as she rethinks her theory. This may earn her more than she had bargained for.
Not letting her put voice to the apology that starts to form in her mind, he closes the door pushing her up against it. His lips come down on hers, territorial kisses, meant to mark and claim, not ones of passion. Although there is a veiled lust lurking just below the surface.
She can feel it in the length of manhood that is pressing hard into her belly, can smell his arousal as well as her own. He pulls back, still gripping that arm tightly and looks her over..starting at her sneaker clad feet, sneering as his eyes rove over the jeans, shaking his head at the fettered breasts, in their bra under the t-shirt. He lets go of her so suddenly that if not for the door behind her, she would have stumbled and fallen to the floor.
He turns and walks away. She watches him as he disappears down the hallway, and listens as the door to the basement creaks open. A shiver of trepidation runs along her spine. A little excitement, a little fear...a lot of hesitancy.
His voice calls out...demanding her immediate compliance, "COME TO ME!" The booming voice pulls her from her reverie and she rushes forward, pausing only momentarily at the top of the stairs...wondering how quickly she can at least remove the bra and panties.
"NOW!" turns her insides into tightly coiled spasms of panic, her feet take her quickly to the steps, descending into the murky half gloom of the playroom. She stands at the bottom of the stairs, letting her eyes adjust...straining to see where he is.
A gasp as her eyes fall on his newest acquisition, the wheel. He slaps a leather paddle against his palm...the sound like gunshots in the dungeon, echoing and she bites into her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
His eyes lock on hers drawing her to him with out need of command. Approaching, she quickly drops to her knees, head down...reaching to kiss the paddle, but he pulls it away. "You come to me dressed like that - you do not deserve to kiss the paddle, nor any part of my body. Stand." His eyes flash in the dim light, twin orbs of menace as he glares at her.
Trembling as she stands...legs loose, almost not able to hold her up...once again she parts her lips, an apology ready...but he stops her...shakes his head and presses cold fingers to her trembling and bitten lips..."Shhhh!"
Still hitting the palm of his hand with the paddle, he walks around her, circling, surveying her from every side, the paddle whistles and her jean clad bottom quivers in the wake of the smack.
Five more in quick succession before he returns to stand in front of her. "You like the way you are dressed...well I will not take your clothes from your body...but before this night is through you will beg me to strip you naked."
He pushes her to the wheel, his hands rough and firm, he straps first wrists, then her ankles, her thighs, waist and head so that she is virtually unable to move. Her nipples swell as the reality hits her...omg...fully dressed and on the wheel...this is truly not what she had imagined as she dressed earlier.
The paddle lashes at her bottom, her thighs, over and over again. Her traitorous cunt, as ever, fills as the paddle works over her quivering globes.
He turns out the lights and there is silence..not even the whir of a fan...nor a waft of air it would stir. Just her in her tethers, he spins the wheel so that she is almost upside down....and walks away. The silence is deafening, the darkness complete, the pounding of her heart getting louder, til it is the only thing that anchors her to the world.
What seems like hours go by, and finally she hears him approach, footsteps on the stairs, and then the lights come on..brilliant as day...she blinks and whimpers, wincing from the brightness. He spins the wheel...bringing her upright...and runs his fingers over her back, down to the swell of buttocks.
The sensation dulled by clothing, unable to even squirm, she wants more...harder touches...needs to feel. Lips parched she asks to be forgiven, as the buzzing starts, it drowns out her pleas. He touches the vibrator to the spread v of her legs, the sensations traveling through the clothes, she can hear the squelch of her wet pussy as it tries to open, to expose that aching clit. The lips stay pressed together, pooling the flow of her juices behind them.
He presses tighter, bruising her delicate nether lips, her clit dancing but unable to feel the full force, not enough to bring her to the edge...but enough to make her yearn to get there. Unable to resist...she screams out in frustration, "PLEASE!!!!" Her answer is his chuckle. Tears spill from her eyes, as she begs to feel the kiss of the paddle, the sting of the whip...anything that will penetrate the clothing and fire her straining nerve endings. Her legs spread so wide that she cannot even create friction by rubbing them together. The screams of frustration ring out through the night.
He steps away, leaving her bathed in sweat, panties tucked into the groove of her slit, the crack of her ass, wicking the moisture away from that streaming pussy. Unable to even wriggle against the panties...she begs to be let down, to have her clothing ripped from her body ... "PLEASE!!!!"
She hears the whistle a mere blink before the tip of the whip kisses her inner thighs. Over and over, counting...screaming, at 20, she slumps ... the heat intense as it spreads bringing a fresh wave of sweat cascading over her, a new outpouring from that hungry pussy,
It is long moments before she realizes that she no longer hears the whip slicing the air, before she can breathe in enough air to stop her head from swimming.
He releases the cuffs from ankles and thighs, she presses her legs together and the cold wet of her panties chills her, makes her shiver. Her waist and head, then her wrists...and she slumps weakly against the wheel.
He turns her and pushes her to her knees...drives his hard cock into her mouth, past swollen lips, both of her hands captured in one of his...his other hand holding her head steady...fucking her throat ...not letting her get a breath before plunging deep. Gagging, drooling...eyes watering.
With a final hard and urgent thrust, he shoves deep down her throat, past the bend and shoots his load. It rushes down...not even back splashing ... deprived even of the taste of his spunk. He lets go of her head and pulls her to trembling legs, staring into her eyes..."Next time, mind how you dress...and remember the consequences."
He walks quickly to the stairs, pulling her roughly behind him...at the door...he pauses..."Tomorrow night be here...I trust you will dress accordingly." Without another touch to her quivering body he opens the door and propels her forward.
Standing on the porch, trembling, wet and unsatisfied...pouting and stamping her foot. Letting a grin cross her face....til tomorrow, sighing softly she reaches back and rubs that spanked rump.