Do It For Him

He smooths my dark hair back from my forehead and wraps it around his fist behind my head.

Holds it just tight enough that I wince a little.

His piercing blue eyes gaze into mine. He says "Are you going to be my good girl tonight? Are you going to do everything I tell you to? Obey all my orders?"

My mind whirls. Part of me thinks "No way! Fuck you!" I want to scream!

But a more insistent part purrs "Immediately. Without question or hesitation Sir."

I hate this! I hate it so! But I crave this so deeply. I love this. I've needed it for so long. I feel so conflicted and that just adds to the delicious tension I'm feeling. We both know why I'm here. For me to submit to him is the ultimate reward for each of us. His hands on me are all I can think about, and I'm fairly sure he has a terrible plan in place for me.

"Yes sir," I manage to squeak out.

He leans closer to me.

I can smell his cologne, and the aroma of something far baser, more feral. His arousal.

"You're going to have to do better than that, my girl." he growls in my ear.

"Yes Sir!"

That sounded better.

"Much better pet," he chuckles.

My face burns with embarrassment.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and leans back on the sofa. One arm thrown over the back, he crosses his leg and I see a flash of pink silk sock over the fine Italian leather of his shoe. His watch glitters in the dim light.

"On your knees girl."

I thump to the floor.

Something comes over me ...

I lean over and kiss the toe of his shoe.

Shame, shame, shame washes over me. What is wrong with me? What the hell am I doing?

I dare a glance up at him and see a definite sparkle in his eye. Oh, he's got my number now.

"Take those stinking restaurant clothes off. Now." he demands.

I, of course, comply, with my internal monologue screaming at me the entire time for being such a slut, being this "easy".

"Kneel up like a good girl," he says.

I lace my fingers behind my head and rise on my knees. My breasts are pushed out and I can feel them trembling from the beat of my heart.

He takes the point of his shoe and drags it very deliberately between my legs. I can see a shiny smear of my wetness on it when he takes it away.

"Look what you've done to my shoe" he says with disdain.

Tears spring to my eyes. I know what's coming next.

"Lick my shoe clean missy."

I lean over again and proceed to lick my own juices from his foot. I taste the salty sweetness of myself, and the rich leather. My tears are falling hot and fierce down my face. I am enraged at myself, and yet my pussy belies that. It is hotter, wetter, more needy than I've ever felt in my life.

"I see you like the leather my pet," he says.

I hear the clink of the chain from the collar, and I can smell the leather, different, coarser.

I turn my face away. So humiliated and overwhelmed by my own desires. I crave the collar and leash more than anything. But he doesn't know that yet. He's just testing me. I hate that I'm just giving him more ammo. But the sight and sound of it calms me, centers me. I can do anything for him with his collar around my neck.

"Don't turn your head darling. I want you to look at me as I bind you. I know this is all new for you, but I know what you want. I know your carnal needs," he murmurs.

I lift my head and accept the band of leather. He has given me such a gift.

He buckles the collar firmly around my neck, picks up the lead and stands up.

"Now you must thank me for the collar."

I take a deep breath.

"Thank you Sir," I respond.

He looks down at me. "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

He steps in front of me, pushing my head into his crotch. I reach up to free him from his soft wool trousers.

"You have a lot to learn girl," he says with a sigh. He takes my wrist sharply and bends my arm behind my back. Then he does the same with my other arm.

"Sit there just like that and be quiet" he orders me. He walks away and I can hear him behind me. A drawer opens and closes. Suddenly, he is right in my ear.

"I did a little shopping for you my dear." I hear the handcuffs click shut and I feel the cold metal bite into my wrist.

Fuckfuckfuck. Oh god ...

"No hands."

I can tell he's trying to be patient. He stands in front of me again. I take his belt in my teeth and pull it out of the buckle. So far so good. Next, the button. Ok, I can do this.

"Quickly now, slut," he says firmly.

I slide the zipper down with my teeth and tongue.

"Good girl."

He finally takes mercy on me, and pulls his already hard cock out of his silk boxers.

"Kiss it first."

I bow my head and kiss his lovely cock softly and reverently.

Hesitating, I slide my tongue under the head, teasing that little ridge.

He groans and tangles his hands in my hair.

I'm secretly pleased because this is my comfort zone. I love to suck cock. I take all of him into my mouth, working it back and forth, in and out of my throat. I know I'm good at this, at the very least. I gag a little and I hear him suck his breath in. I might be getting somewhere!

"That's enough." He pulls his dick out of my mouth, pausing to wipe it off on my cheek and the side of my face.

Dammit! I thought I was doing well! I'm confused and so very disappointed that he made me stop.

He takes the leash and tugs on it as he starts to move toward the bed. I rush to stand and follow. He turns and glares at me.

"You are not getting this at all, are you? When you are in my home and on my leash, you do not stand unless you are ordered to. Follow on your knees or I will be forced to punish you."

A flare of anger goes through me. How dare he! But the desire to please him flares deeper and brighter. I struggle with my conflicting thoughts yet again. Exhale. Drop back to my knees. He tugs the leash tight and I shuffle forward awkwardly until we reach the bed.

"Stand now and get up on the bed."

I struggle to obey, my cuffed wrists making it difficult. I press my face into the duvet, trying to hide my flaming cheeks.

I hear the unmistakable sound of a belt being pulled from its loops.

I panic! Why the fuck did I tell him about the belt! Oh god, what have I done? There's no way I can take the lash! I think about using "the word". I absolutely can't go through with this.

Then I think again ... I know if I say no, I will disappoint him, which I can't bear to do. But worse, I will disappoint myself. I will never know the bite of the belt. I will fail on all fronts.

He must sense my inner turmoil, he certainly sees the tension in my body.

"My dear, don't worry. You are my pretty little fucktoy. I love playing with you. Why would I want to ruin my own property?"

I look back over my shoulder as he caresses my very white bum.

"You will be even more beautiful wearing my mark, and I want to make sure you remember the lessons I taught you today as you watch it fade."

He folds the sturdy belt in half and draws his arm back.

I squeeze my eyes shut, bite down on the pillow and hold my breath.

"Remember to breathe darling," he reminds me. I exhale deeply as the first stroke of the belt leaves a trail of fire across my ass.

The pain is excruciating. I scream into the pillow. The second lash is even worse. The sound of leather on flesh so loud in the room.

He stops briefly to admire his handiwork. Two bright red streaks are starting to flame on my milky skin.

He strokes his fingers down between my legs and I am ashamed again when he finds me so slick and wet. My pussy is practically drooling.

"Look at me!" he barks.

I look back again and see a smirk cross his face.

"You really are quite the little pain slut aren't you? Very good! Only 3 more lashes to go. Count them off for me, and don't forget to thank me each time."

Oh my fucking God. I simply cannot bear three more lashes. Or can I?

"I know you can do it baby," he croons to me.

He cocks back his arm and brings the belt down again.

"One Sir. Thank you."

Again.

"Two. Thank you Sir."

I'm bawling now. Crying and thrashing my head back and forth. I can't speak ...can't form a coherent thought. My pussy is on fire. I need him in me, on me, touching me.

The third stroke hits me.

"Three, oh god sir, three, thank you sir, please stop." I manage to choke out. I'm a blubbering, snivelling mess. My ass is sheer agony. And I feel an incredible sense of calm.

He quickly unlocks the cuffs and caresses the marks they left, lifts my wrists to his lips, kisses them softly and strokes the welts on my bruised behind.

"I'm so proud of you, kitten," he breathes. "Come, let Daddy take care of you."

I dissolve in a puddle of tears. Relief and soon, release.

I survived.