Sarah knelt in her usual position on the cushion by the side of the bed. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, and the blindfold and ball gag were securely in place. The end of her leash was hanging on a hook to her left. She was never supposed to move in, or dire punishment would ensue. Of course, sometimes she liked the punishment. Her master was downstairs, and she was eagerly anticipating his return.
* * * * *
Rarely do you look back on your life and think that it turned out the way you expected. A minister's daughter is supposed to make someone a proper housewife, honor and obey, cook and clean, and all that June Cleaver bullshit. Sarah had just always figured that was how she'd turn out. She'd been a wild child growing up, always stretching the tight boundaries set by her parents. They weren't disciplinarians, despite the strict rules. Her father would just shake his head at her in disappointment, trying to shame her into better behavior. It never worked, and Sarah would always go to farther and farther extremes.
Once she discovered boys, Sarah found a whole new outlet for her attempts to anger her family. She liked the bad boys, the ones who broke rules and didn't care. It still never satisfied her. She was suspended from school multiple times, received a citation from police for underage drinking, and nothing changed.
She turned 18, and her near lawlessness had alerted everyone around her. Her father's best friend, and fellow minister, Steve Foster, decided to confront her about it. Sarah decided to seduce him instead. She'd had plenty of teenage boys, easily swayed by the mere possibility of sex. Sarah naively assumed all men were easy prey. Foster was a bachelor, having always devoted his life to the church, even though his faith didn't preclude him from carnal knowledge of women within the sanctity of marriage. He became her first master, taking her to the playroom he kept hidden from his friends and neighbors, a fully equipped bondage den. There Sarah discovered the joy of obsequious servitude, of being punished for violating the word of her master, the feeling of being utterly, dangerously alive that she only got when surrendering total control of herself to another.
* * * * *
She'd known her assignations with Mr. Foster wouldn't last forever, and after graduating from college her career had taken her away from her hometown. She'd had little success finding a competent master since. She'd met Jeff, her current boyfriend, through a BDSM message board. He'd said all the right things, and had an impressive collection of gear, but lacked the patience and self-confidence to make a truly good dom. Despite their ostensible roles, she dominated him much more than the other way around. It was better than nothing for her though.
The waiting by the side of the bed blindfolded, bound, and gagged, was part of their usual routine. He'd leave her like that, nearly dripping with anticipation, until coming up to take her in his too-brief fashion.
When the door opened, Sarah expected business as usual, until she heard the second pair of footsteps walking towards her. The gag in her mouth prevented her from speaking, but she was aching to ask what exactly was going on.
"Slave, we have a bit of a problem," Jeff's voice said. "I'm sure you noticed that I'm not alone. This man with me, well, I owe him some money. I can't afford to pay him right now, so you're going to have to buy me a deferment."
