Content warning: Primal scene that includes (consensual) choking and humiliating language.
*****
I ring your bell, and you open the door.
You're a striking sight, all dressed up: red box-pleated skirt, black hold-up stockings that end (teasingly) just under your skirt-line, and a white top β a short-sleeved bodysuit that's stretched so tightly I could accurately trace the circles of your areolae.
"You're not wearing a bra," I say. "You're a little slut, you know that?"
A bratty smile.
And now I relish my visit all the more.
You'll pay for that,
I think.
I enter your house and we climb the stairs to your living room. Halfway up, I grab your wrist, and you freeze, dutifully stunned.
"Go to the kitchen," I say. "Get the jar of coconut oil, then go to your room and bring me the
black
butt plug."
At this, your eyes widen.
"I trust you've done your stretch training."
"Yes, sir," you say without a hint of snark.
"Go now. I'll wait here."
You climb the rest of the stairs while I admire your derrière. Then, as you perform your tasks, I take off my jacket and lay it down carefully, covering the third step above me. Next, I remove my tie, which I hold in my right hand, ready for use.