Good Girl 70

I wait for him, my heart hammering in my chest. I had rushed getting ready, not wanting to be caught unfinished when he returned. Kneeling on the hard floor, I look up at the door, at the small window high above my head. Excitement runs through my body like an electric charge, making me quiver. I run my tongue over the smooth silicone, breathing hard through my mouth I cannot fully close. The roof of my mouth is dry and my tongue is too wet.

I wait, listening to the sounds around me, the hum of the refrigerator, birds outside the window. I listen for the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. Soon, he will be home, and I will be waiting here for him when he opens the door, ready to please him. I tremble with anticipation.

I watch the doorknob. I know it won't turn, not before I hear his car, but I watch anyway. I look through the window again, but from where I am kneeling, all I can see is a small patch of the patio roof. I silently will him to arrive, longing to see him, to show him how obedient I am.

I lean forward, bending my head upside down to moisten the roof of my mouth, but it only makes me drool. The clock ticks on and I kneel with my hands on the floor. Minutes pass.

I hear a car outside, and my heart leaps into my throat. He's back! I straighten up, kneeling at attention, giving a gentle tug to my corset. He will be so proud of me. I want him to be proud of me.

The car door slams and I mentally run through what I was told to prepare. Collar, corset, thong, stockings, plug, gag.

Wait...

My breath catches and I freeze.

Did he say blindfold?

Shit. He said blindfold.

I fly to my feet and race into the bedroom. I plunge my hand into the side table drawer, groping blindly. I only have seconds.

If I'm not kneeling, waiting, when he opens the door...

I can't find the blindfold. I snatch a yellow tie off the bedpost and run back to the door, sliding the tie over my head.

I kneel again, with spare seconds to catch my breath. My mind is racing.

Did he say blindfold? What if he didn't and here I am, kneeling stupidly with a tie over my eyes? No, he said blindfold. But he said blindfold, not tie.

The door opens, and I hold my breath.

I've disappointed him, I know it. I screwed up; he wanted me in all black, and here's this stupid yellow tie.

I wanted to be perfect for him and now I've messed up the first thing.

I hear his footfalls and he steps near to me. I lean against his leg, nuzzling, happy to be near him again. He is silent for a moment, then strokes my hair.

"Good girl," he says.

I savor it, and I know that everything is all right.

He leans down and clips a leash to my collar, then leads me into the kitchen. He has brought home supper. I kneel at his feet as he pours the containers into bowls. He carries them into the dining room and ben's over to set my bowl on the floor, removes my gag, then sits down at the table to eat.

It is chicken penne alfredo. He has not given me a fork, so I eat the pasta directly from the bowl.

I have finished my food and am licking the sauce from the bowl when I hear his fork scrape and clatter, then he pushes his chair back.

"All done? It's time for dessert, now." I hear him unzip his pants and he tugs gently on my leash. I know that he has pulled out his cock, and I waste no time filling my mouth, sliding his cock to the back of my throat, my hands on his thighs. I moan as I suck in delight, savoring the taste of him and the feel of his dick hardening in my mouth. I wrap my tongue around it, licking from base to tip, then sliding it back deep into my mouth.

All too soon, he pulls back on my leash and stands up.

"Come, pet," he says and leads me forward. I crawl, knowing not to stand unless instructed to. He takes me to the bathroom and drops my leash. I hear the shower turn on and the soft rustle of clothes falling to the floor. I know what to do. Once I hear him step into the shower, I grope for his clothes on the floor, then fold them into a neat pile near the door. I take a fresh towel from the shelf and kneel near the shower with it in my hands. He only takes a few minutes; he must be eager for what he has planned next. The water stops and he takes the towel from my upraised hands. I know he is patting his face dry. He steps out of the shower and drops the towel back onto me. Knowing from experience what he wants, I stand and begin to dry him off, finding my way by touch. Once I am finished, I kneel again, putting the towel aside.

"Good girl." He pats my head and slips something into my mouth. It's a raspberry, my favorite treat. I am surprised; he must have had a dish of them in the bathroom already waiting.

He takes up my leash again and leads me into the bedroom.

"Up on the bed," he commands. "Lie down, face down, head at the head of the bed. Spread your arms and legs."

I obediently climb up onto the bed and lie down. He quickly secures cuffs around my wrists and ankles, anchoring them to the corners of the bed. I try to guess what he is going to use on me. Crop? Paddle? Flogger? Belt?

A sharp, stinging slap lands on my ass, making me cry out. Paddle, then. He paddles me slowly but firmly. I shout and hiss with pain and pull at my cuffs, tears leaking from my eyes. The paddle is one of my least favorite, second only to the cane. But I am proud to take it for him. Maybe, with enough practice, one day I will be able to do it without crying.

He stops paddling and smooths a hand over my ass. The skin feels like it's on fire, but the sting is already starting to subside. I lay gasping and wait, hoping for those words.

He slips a raspberry into my mouth and pats my head. "Good girl."

A glow of accomplishment and satisfaction spreads through me, consuming the memory of the pain. I'd do anything to hear him say those words, to know he's proud of me.

He unbuckles my wrists and ankles. "Flip over," he says, "and turn so you're lying crosswise." I move as instructed, and he grabs my knees, pulling me towards the edge of the bed until my legs are dangling off the edge. I gasp as my raw skin scrapes over the bedspread.

His cock enters me immediately, hard and long. He grabs my legs and thrusts into me roughly, using me for his pleasure. I imagine what he must look like, standing there, looming over me, his bare chest, that intense look on his face as he fucks me. He drives his dick into me, his fingers digging into my thighs. With a groan, he slams into me one last time, then collapses onto the bed next to me. I lie there, breathing hard, my legs still spread, feeling the wetness dripping between them. I feel gloriously used, my purpose fulfilled.

After a long moment, I hear him fumbling about, and then he slips a raspberry into my mouth.

"Good girl."