We are laughing, talking and holding each other's hands as we walk down the hotel hallway. We get to the threshold of the room I had reserved earlier in the day. I put the key in the lock, open the door, and follow her into the room. She turns to me, smiling, but sees that my face has grown stern.
"You were late this afternoon, Baby. You know how valuable time is to me, and to us."
"It was only four minutes!! There was construction on the highway, and I left 30 minutes early which I thought would be plenty of time, then I had trouble finding the restaurant, and parking was..." Her voice trails off, and I see the defiance in her eyes falter, as she realizes her arguments are not persuading me.
I stare at her expectantly. The moment of silence lingers. Finally I break it by saying, "today you are not only late, but forgetful of your manners."
She replies, "It was only four minutes, Sir." I notice the slight, sarcastic emphasis on the last word, but don't bring it up. She immediately regrets saying it, knowing it may come back to her in a less then pleasant way later in the evening.
"Those four minutes could have been put to very productive use for us, couldn't they? I don't want your excuses. I want your timeliness."
"Yes, Sir." There is no sarcasm in her voice now.
"Good girl."
I move further into the room and she follows me. She feels a mix of shame and defiance, knowing she was wrong to be late, but angry to be chastised so harshly.
I turn to her, holding out a glass of wine, and see the defiance in her eyes. I hand her the glass, and toast, "to timeliness." Her cheeks redden slightly and her eyes drop as she replies, "to timeliness."
We enjoy our wine as we sit at the couch talking casually and falling back into our easy conversation from dinner. She relaxes as she tells me about her week, and hears me relate my own stories. As we finish the first glass, she glances at the bed at the far end of the room and hopes that I have forgotten about her tardiness.
I haven't.
"You seem eager to move to the bed, Baby. I share your eagerness, but... I can't help but think sadly that I might have given you another orgasm, or two, had we the extra few minutes to play."
This time she meets my gaze, and feels herself anticipating, both eagerly and dreadfully, what I might say next.
"You were hoping I had forgotten, weren't you?"
Not breaking my gaze, she replies "Yes, Sir."
"You know you will be disciplined, don't you?"
Her breath catches in her throat as she answers, "yes, Sir." She also feels herself beginning to get wet.
"Stand up, Baby," I command.
"Yes, Sir," she says as she rises to her feet.
"Now, silently and slowly, remove your clothes."
She starts a slow strip tease for me, carefully removing first her shoes and pantyhose, then her blouse, then her skirt. She puts them each carefully in the closet or on the dresser, knowing that I enjoy watching her reveal her body to me, and that I enjoy the building anticipation. Her bra and her panties follow, and she places them carefully on the dresser as well before returning to stand in front of me again.
"Very good, Baby. You have pleased me greatly. Now turn around, slowly, so I can savor your body." Slowly, never losing eye contact with me except for the moment it takes to turn her head from one side to the other, she spins around. She feels both shame and pride as she senses my eyes on her.
"You are a beautiful woman," I say, my voice slightly husky with lust.
"I'm your woman, Sir, to do with as you please."
"Good girl," I say as I stand up and move to the closet. She had seen a folded black scarf hanging there earlier, and guessed its purpose. Now her guess is confirmed as I retrieve it and return to her.
I return to stand behind her, and she feels the fabric of my shirt and the movements of my arms near her shoulders as I blindfold her and tie the scarf firmly at the back of her head.
Then she waits. She expects to hear or feel something, and as she accepts the loss of her visual sense, her other senses become slightly more attuned. She thinks she hears a faint metallic sound, which she suspects is my belt buckle, then she is almost certain she hears a zipper. Then... nothing. Still, she waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Finally, from somewhere behind her, I say, "It has been four minutes since I blindfolded you, Baby. The same four minutes I had to wait for your arrival. You did not like the waiting, did you?"
Remembering my admonition for silence, she shakes her head side to side.
"I didn't like it, either. Will you be late again when we have arranged to meet?" Another shake of her head follows.
A brief moment of silence follows, then she gasps in surprise as the simultaneous sensations of my lips at the curve of her neck, my fingers lightly pinching one of her nipples, and my erection pressing into her back.
As my lips move up the curve of her neck to her jawline, I wrap my other arm around her waist and pull her closer to me. She can tell that I am as excited as she is by how rigid my cock feels against her back. I continue to flick and pinch her nipples lightly.