Consequences 6

You've made me wait.

I can feel my annoyance increasing as the minutes tick by. I check my watch again. It has been almost twenty minutes now; completely unacceptable.

I hear the key turning in the lock. You shuffle in, out of breath, throwing off your coat and attempting to take off your shoes in the same motion. I watch you. You leave your stuff on the floor – on my clean hallway floor – and you collapse onto the couch in the living room.

"Today was hell," you mutter, "Especially the traffic coming home. Ugh, dear god, am I glad to be sitting down right now. It felt like I was on my feet all day." You rub your hands briskly together as I continue to stare at you. "And boy is it cold outside. You know, I think my eyeballs almost froze. Hey, baby, can you get me some coffee? I could do with something warm right about now." Picking up the remote, you turn on the TV.

I continue to not speak, not move; just stare. You glance over at me. "Something wrong, sweetheart?" You ask innocently.

My voice is as icy as the wind outside, "You are late."

"Oh, honey, hey...I told you. Traffic and all..." Your voice trails off and you give a dismissive wave of your hand. "You know that's not my fault."

"You are late," I repeat.

"Hey, listen. I know I'm late," you reply, your voice rising in annoyance, "It couldn't be helped. I told you – all that fucking traffic."

"It wasn't the traffic," I respond, "I know what you've been doing."

"Woah...Hold on a sec. What the hell are you talking about?" You exclaim, rising to your feet.

My tone is unwavering, "I know." I watch a chill pass through your body. A visible shudder not created from the snow blanketing the outside.

"Listen...I...it's just...I...well, when you..." You are at a loss for words. I can see that you thought you had been so clever. How easy it must have seemed to you to have an affair with that slut from your office. You could see her during lunch times, stay a couple of minutes later after work...I wouldn't possibly be able to find out. You had counted on that.

It had felt like such an easy way to rebel from the way I dominated you. Not that you didn't want to be dominated. No, in fact, you had begged for it. You yearned for such a cruel and unrelenting mistress. But, when you finally got what you desired, you felt emasculated. And so, to prove that you were still a man, you began an affair with that easy tramp. She was more than willing to spread her legs for you, and more than willing for you to have control.

Your complete lack of eloquence at stumbling out a response failed. My steadfast glare causes you to give up trying to speak at all. Silence permeates the air for a full minute as you wait for me to say what I'm going to say.

"I'm sure that you have spent many years with women you can fuck over. Girls who are going to take crap like this from you for whatever reason. Little sluts who don't care who else you fuck as long as you fuck them as well..." I pause as I watch your eyes dart from mine to the floor, ashamed of yourself.

I continue, enjoying your discomfort, "Well, that isn't the way things work anymore. Not since you decided to be with me. Not since you promised to obey me and be mine. You don't get to fuck around with any whore. In fact, you don't get to fuck unless I say you can."

You start to interject, and I cut you off, "No. Don't speak. I didn't fucking tell you I wanted to hear any bullshit that came out of your mouth. I'm not sure why you thought that you could do whatever you wanted. Perhaps I simply didn't train you well enough. Perhaps I didn't make myself clear to you. But, honestly, I don't care the reason. I am through with you. I don't waste my time with a pitiful excuse for a man like you."

You are panic stricken. Never had you thought that I would reject you and tell you to leave. You drop from where you are standing to your knees. You lower your head downwards, not daring to look at my frosty glaze.

"Please, Mistress," you beg, "I made a mistake. A horrible mistake..."

"I have no use for those who are disloyal to me," I state with a calm coldness in my voice.

"Don't do this to me, Mistress, please. I...I didn't mean for this to happen." You are awash in desperation. You raise your head slightly, your eyes trying to search my face, assess if there is any hope left for you.

And that is when you feel the sting of my hand across your face, and you hear me laugh, "Didn't mean for this to happen? Hah...I will suppose next you will tell me it was an accident that your cock ended up inside that dirty twat. Don't insult me with such lies."

"Mistress...I...I don't know what to say," You take a deep breath of air, and let it out slowly, "I was a fool. I was a fool to think that I needed anyone else but you...But, now...Now, I know that I was wrong. It was my stupid pride. And I know there is no excuse for what I have done...But, please, Mistress, find it in your heart to forgive me." I study your face. The misery and the dejection you feel have contorted it. "Why should I give you another chance?"

"Mistress, the truth is...Well, I don't deserve another chance. I do not deserve your wonderful, loving attention. I do not deserve you, Mistress. But, I do wish to serve you. I do wish to be yours forever, to do what you will with. Please, do not leave me." You look up at my face again, and continue to plead silently with your eyes.

"Unfortunately, I am not made of stone," I sigh, "And although you are correct that you do not deserve me...Perhaps...Yes, perhaps I shall give you another chance." You are clearly elated, and don't think before rising to your feet and wrapping me tightly in an embrace.

Pushing you backwards, my voice is stern, "Stop. Not so quickly. You need to make up for what you have done." You do your best to nod meekly, but I can tell you are still overcome by joy that you have been allowed to stay.

"Tonight," I continue, "We are not going to need to use restraints of any kind. You are going to obey me perfectly. If you do not, then I know you were not actually serious about what you said. I will know that you'd prefer to fuck that whore from your office. Understand?"

"Yes, mistress," you say soberly. You know that you don't want to mess this up.

"You may start by undressing," I whisper, my tone switching from icy to seductive. You immediately obey, shedding all of your clothing, and leaving it in a messy pile upon the floor.

"No!" I exclaim, "Pick up your things and fold them nicely." You let out a small groan of annoyance. I ignore it for the moment, and let you continue your task. Once things have been returned to order, I motion you to come over close to me. Dropping to my knees, I touch my tongue to your cock for a brief instant, before spitting upon the floor.

"I knew it. Her fucking pussy juices are all over your cock. I can taste them," I hiss and immediately you flush crimson. "I'm not going to let you touch me while you still have her filthy smell on you. Go get me a glass of water so I can get rid of this horrid taste in my mouth, and then go start the shower."

You return with a cup full of water and hand it to me, then leave to start the shower. As I slowly sip the water, I wonder about you, about us. I wonder if I really have the courage to tell you to leave if I find out this happens again. I doubt you know how much this hurt me, to find out that you were sleeping with someone else. But, I know I will make you pay. I will make you hurt...slowly, for many days. It will be a physical pain, a sexual pain...but maybe; then, you will understand what its like to hurt. Sipping my water, I begin to come up with plans for other nights. But, tonight, tonight I already know what it is going to happen. Tonight has been planned ever since I found out that you were with that other woman.

You return, telling me that the shower is on and warm. I nod and follow you into the bathroom. The shower stall is made of a slightly distorted glass, allowing for a fuzzy few of the person inside. The mirrors that line two of the four walls of the bathroom create the illusion of many hazy naked bodies. Steam brushes past us, eager to escape, as we enter the bathroom. The tile feels cold underneath our feet. It's the same coldness we each feel every morning as we brush our teeth, but somehow, this cold is different. It permeates both of us, and I notice that you shiver the same time that I do.

I clear my throat and utter, "Get in the shower."

You unquestioningly obey, and hold the shower door open for me; waiting for me to undress and join you.

"Shut the door," I whisper.

Confused, you open your mouth to speak. "Shut the door," I repeat, louder. You shut the door softly, as I murmur to you to begin washing. I stand silently, watching your misty indistinct body. You bathe hurriedly, as you steal glances over towards me. As you peek, nervously, I catch your gaze. Holding your eyes with mine, words drip out of my mouth like venom, "Do no forget to wash your filthy fucking penis." You flush, and begin scrubbing your cock. When I tell you to exit the shower, I notice that your genitals are slightly enflamed from the rough cleaning you gave it. I smile, realizing that you are starting to punish yourself for me, without me even asking.

You stand in front of me, eyes downcast, shivering, clean, and naked. Your penis, despite the coldness of the bathroom tile now that you have stepped out of the shower, has started to rise. I know the humiliation and shame you are feeling is what is turning you on. I allow you to stay like that, quiet, unmoving, and cold. I watch as your hardness increases. It is when you begin to squirm that I order you to lay down on those cold hard tiles.

Your facial expressions show obvious displeasure, but my goal is not for you to enjoy this. However, I am quite certain that I do deserve some gratification. From underneath the skirt I am wearing, I pull down and slip off my panties. I leave the rest of my clothing on, not believing that you deserve to see my nakedness. Observing your continually stiffening erection, I laugh slightly.

You see, your penis is misinformed. You are not going to penetrate me. In fact, it will probably be quite some time before you are worthy enough to be allowed inside of me. No, your penis should get quite used to being ignored. On the other hand, I think, as I place one leg on either side of your body, my pussy will become quite accustomed to being pleasured frequently.

I kneel, with my legs spread apart and your head in between. For you, the view must be quite dark, as my skirt covers any chance you have of seeing. My pussy is not touching you, but it is close of enough to your face that when you inhale, my scent enters into you.

You begin to say something about how you love my smell, when I snap. "Shut the fuck up! I did not fucking tell you that I wanted to hear any goddamn compliments. I'm sure you told that fucking whore that she smelt good too. Now, why don't you lick my cunt like how you licked hers? Do it." I lower myself downward, my sex pressed against your face. "Fucking lick my cunt like how you licked that whore's cunt." Your tongue timidly flicks outward. "Harder. What use are you to me if you can't suck on my pussy?"

I'm angry. The images of you having sex with that slut are running through my mind. I can picture how it all went down. I can picture you seducing her, you touching her pussy, playing with it, making it gush. You must have licked up her spilled wetness, pushing her to another orgasm. And then, you entered her. You made your cock filthy and dirty by covering it in that whore's cum.

You are licking hard by this point; your tongue continually thrusting up against my clit. Your breathing is heavy against me; there is little air underneath my skirt. My moans start, and my thinking stops. I try to grip at my anger, keep it with me, but it is difficult when my body is overcome by such wonderful sensations. I forget about her. I forget about you. I just use your face and tongue like a toy. I begin to rock on you, moving my hips back and forth, rhythmically.

All thoughts are gone, and I am vessel; a vessel that you are filling with more and more pleasure. And then, I reach my limit. And like a vessel that is crammed full, and still being stuffed with more, I explode. My body can no longer handle so much pressure, and so it must release some. I shudder and scream. Every muscle in my body tenses. Like any such a tremendous burst, it took a long time in coming, and is finished too rapidly. As I collapse, I feel your muffled attempts to speak.

I find the energy to climb off of you. And once released, your breath comes ragged. You had not had enough oxygen for a while, now, and so I give you a minute to recover. When you recover, you smile at me, expectantly. In your mind, you have suffered, and you have given me pleasure. You believe we should be equal.

We are far from equal.

That is only the beginning.

You still need to pay for what you have done to me.

And I will enjoy watching you suffer.