"You're mine now."
Those are the first words he's spoken since I arrived at his door, and they send a shiver down my spine. I'm really doing it, like in
50 Shades of Grey
. I've agreed to be David's submissive. I filled out the checklist, signed the contract, and agreed to show up at the designated time.
If I'm being honest, there's more than a little shiver in my groin as well.
He led me to this room by the hand, and pulled me down on the floor before leaving. I only had a chance to glimpse the room briefly then, because I know from the contract I'm to look down at all times unless instructed. The room is not red like in the book, just a regular room, except for the rack of whips and floggers and another rack with ropes hanging over the bar. There's a bed, a bench, and a dresser. I suspect that's where the handcuffs and dildos and vibrators and butt plugs are. I had a bit of a longer look as I undressed - also part of the contract, naked at all times - but I stripped in a hurry and got back into position.
I didn't know when he'd be back.
It felt like an eternity before he did come back and calmly claimed ownership over me. An eternity to ask myself if I'd made a crazy mistake. That checklist! Humiliation, bondage, pain.. I left most of the grossest stuff unchecked, but I still accepted quite a bit. I've felt a need to be submissive and used sexually for a long time, although I didn't want to admit it. Finally I decided to try. David was very warm and understanding, listening to my concerns and addressing them, reassuring but never downplaying what that contact means - while I'm in that room and unless the safe word is uttered, I am his to be used as he wishes.
Here on the cold floor on my knees, naked and waiting for my master, it's all of a sudden very real. It's scary, but so exciting. Hence the shivers all over.
"You're mine now," he said as he entered and closed the door. It wasn't a question and it wasn't meant to convince or intimidate me - he was just calmly stating a fact in a confident voice.
I'm not sure what to say. I try furiously to remember if I'm supposed to respond, or only if I'm explicitly told to.
There's a long silence.
"Well?" David says.
"I am yours now, Master," I say. Disappointed I failed my very first test but relieved to know what is expected of me.
'That's right," he says. I don't see him in the small patch of floor in my vision. He sounds like he's still by the door. "Was there any doubt? Is that why you didn't answer?"
"No, Master," I say. "No doubt. I wanted to make sure I responded correctly, Master."
"That's good, but you know to respond faster, immediately when I speak to you. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. I will have to punish you though, for that failure. Just a little though. You've only been mine for a few minutes, but all transgressions must be addressed, hmm?"
"Yes Mast-" I start to say, but before I can finish getting the words out, his hands are already on my throat, tight but not squeezing, pulling me up and towards the bench. God, either he is incredibly fast or incredibly quiet. I never heard him approach.
Not letting go of my throat, he sits down on the bench. I see he's still fully clothed - polo shirt, khaki pants - and hasn't grabbed any whips or paddles yet.
"Down," he says. "Over my knee."
Only when I'm bent over his lap, standing on my tiptoes to maintain the position, does he release my throat. I'm surprised to find myself disappointed. His touch, firm and unyielding, makes this all too real. And thrilling.
But I don't miss his touch for long.
Smack! comes his hand on my asscheeks, first on one, then the other. It stings, but mostly I feel a warm pleasant sensation as all the blood rushes to my ass and groin.
Smack! Smack! Smack! The blows keep coming, sometimes on one cheek or the others, sometimes right in the middle. His hand hits close enough to my pussy to make me wonder what it would be like to be slapped there. The thought makes me moan a little.
Just then, the blows stop, as if Master wants to deny the pleasure I'm feeling. Later, I'm sure that was exactly what he was thinking.
"Off, and down on your knees, "Master says. I comply, adopting the pose I started in, only now I'm at his feet as he sits on the bench.
"That's sufficient punishment for now," he says, not ungently. "But you must understand, the punishment was for your benefit. Everything else is for my pleasure."
"Yes Master," I say, still staring at the floor.
"Then we will begin."
He gets up from the bench and goes to the dresser. I can hear the drawers open and close. I can only imagine what he's retrieved. Part of me hopes for a paddle. My ass still feels burning hot, both at the skin and deeper. I realize I started to get wet while being spanked.
"Head up," Master says when he comes back, standing in front of me. I raise my head, and see what he's collected from the dresser: in one hand is black blindfold and handcuffs; in the other, a black collar and a thin chain. He brings the blindfold down over my head until it's settled in place. The darkness is total; I can't see anything it all. A feel a slight twinge of panic, but only for a second. I trust I am in a safe place. A safe place where I've been grabbed around the throat and spanked already, but a safe place nonetheless. Plus, I read that not being able to see heightens all the other senses, and makes those sensations even stronger.
Next comes the collar. He lifts my hair off my neck as he fastens it in place. It's tight; I'll always be aware it's there.
"This collar means you're mine," Master says. "As long as you wear it, you're my whore, my slut, my pet." There's no aggression in his voice, just the calm, confident tone again. "Isn't that what you want?"
"Yes Master," I say.
"Yes what?"
"This is what I want. I want to be your whore and slut and pet." It feels so shameful to say those words, so degrading. But thrilling at the same time. I'd say anything to be spanked again.
"Good. Hands out."
I put my wrists together in front of me, and feel the cold steel around them as he places the handcuffs. There's only a little bit of give in the short chain between the cuffs. Blindfolded and handcuffed, I couldn't be more helpless. But I'm in a safe place, and being helpless means a can let go and enjoy whatever is coming.
He's placed the blindfold and collar and cuffs; that leaves the chain. What is that for, I wonder. I hear it jingle softly as he handles it, or sets it down. Then I feel a pinch on my nipple, hard and fast, then the other one. He goes back and forth, pinching and tugging, until I'm sure they are as erect as they've even been. His touch is firm but he's in no hurry, slowly sliding his fingers from my tit to the end of the nipple.
Then I hear the chain again, and there's a sharper pinch on my left nipple, then on my right. I feel the middle of the chain against my belly. Nipple clamps, I realize as I adjust to the new feeling. Some slight pain, sharper, but like with the spanking, also that warm sensation. The chain is heavy enough that there's constant pulling on my tits. constant stimulation. I feel like moaning again.
Instead, I yelp when he pulls the chain tight, pulling my nipples with it. It's even better than the slow tugging with his fingers. He gives the chain some slack and pulls again, this time even harder, pulling my whole upper body forward. He must have crouched down, because I feel his breath on my nose and mouth.
"Kiss me," he commands.
I tilt my head forward, lips pursed. His meet mine, but he doesn't push against them, he's still using the chain to keep my body pulled forward. It's how he presses my lips against his.
I put my tongue in his mouth, seeking out his. When I find it, I flick it and suck on it, trying to pull it back into me even as he's pulling me away. He's making me work for this kiss, even though he commanded it. I don't want to disappoint, moving my tongue around his mouth frantically as our mouth move together. I feel my pussy get even wetter. My nipples ache in the most delicious way. The kiss is even better than the spanking, and I fight the urge to pout as he breaks off the kiss. The thought occurs to me, though a pout might get me another kiss. Or, if he's not sympathetic, another spanking. I'd be fine with that.
The chain is still pulled tight. He pulls upward, bringing me to my feet.
"Undress me," he says.
"Can I have another kiss first?" I ask. I can't help myself.
The wallop to my ass almost takes me off my feet. I'm sure that smack alone made my ass bright red again. The sting and the warmth, oh my God how I love the combination!
"No," he says. "You know not to speak unless told to."
Again the need for his punishment overrules my brain. "Yes, Master, I know."
Another hard smack, but this time I'm ready, actually pushing my ass back against his hand, just a little. I'm afraid if he notices again how much I love it, he will withhold it from me.
"You're not off to the best start," he says. "I will punish you more later. Now, undress me."
I get shudders at the promise of more punishment to come. I reach out and up and find his collarbones and move my hands up to his neck, I grasp his collar and pull his shirt up and over his head. I can't resist slowly sliding my hands down his solid chest and flat belly on the way to his waist. He doesn't seem to mind my deliberate slowness. I find his button and zipper and undo them, pulling down his pants and boxer briefs in one motion. I feel his legs move as he steps out of them, I'm so tempted to reach out and touch his cock.
I wonder if it's hard, turned on by the sight of me and our kiss. Or if he is in control of himself just as fully as he's in control of me.
