She was keyed up – as usual, really. But going too long without sexual release and sitting all day with boring, aging professionals was always sure to make her irritable and aggressive.
When the firm knock sounded three times on the door at exactly 10:00 p.m., she smiled like a sunbathing feline. Good boy, right on time. Let's see if he remembers the rest of my instructions though.
She took her time, checking her reflection in the full-length hallway mirror. She wore a wide-gauge fishnet bodysuit underneath black leather pants, low-slung on her hip bones and tight as a second skin, skimming toned thighs, bunching at her ankles just above black fuck-me stilettos. Leather G-string straps arched over those hip bones from under her waistband and buckled in back Otherwise, she wore only a black, silver-studded leather half-bra under the netting of the bodysuit. Her usual heavy silver choker chain banded her neck, a dangling S-shaped serpent charm, winked in the low light. Straight, dark-gold hair poured down to the middle of her back.
She smoothed on thin patent leather gloves above her elbows as she contemplated the door. She'd spent a fortune on them, but even the embossed design of a coin could be felt through the supple leather. She raised her hands to admire the shine of them and slid one gloved hand down her toned belly, and further down to her crotch. She rotated her pubic bone against her cupped palm, remembering the last scene with this one.
Was last time a fluke? Could he be taken further? Time to find out how good this toy can be.
On the way to the door, she picked up a heavy leather leash and a black leather riding crop.
********************
He looked furtively side-to-side to check the hallway without lifting his head. The room was at the end of a hallway around a secluded corner. Not much reason for any other guests to come this way. Still he trembled with anxiety. Potential discoverers flew through his mind – workmen arriving unexpectedly, a lost traveler looking for their room.
As instructed, he knelt at the door, on his knees, head bowed. He had worn only his jeans and had slipped those off at her door, folding them and laying them in front of his knees – an offering. He had slipped on the heavy black collar on the way to her door. The collar thrilled him, heart skipping wildly, with its leather scent, its outrageousness, and its impending meaning. She had slipped it in his attache today while tersely imparting his orders. The promise of the collar staring up from the depths of his bag had kept him on a sexual high all day.
What would she take from him tonight? Would he measure up this time? Would he be able to handle all that she would require? How bad would it become, but how good could it be? He needed to follow this desire of his, finally. In spite of his fear of discovery in the public hallway, his erection throbbed expectantly. He wanted it so badly, to be controlled, tested, to give as much to his Mistress as he could pour out of himself and put into her firm control, to trust and, ultimately, to be taken care of.
It wasn't a need that any others had been able to fulfill for him. She promised to make his fantasies reality, if he could please her enough.
His neck muscles ached already from their desperately bowed position. As he felt the beginning ache, he worried about his ability to meet her expectations. How long had he been here – one minute, five? His perception of time was skewed by his anxiety at being seen here in this position.
Had she heard his knock? Would she come at all? His instructions were clear. Knock loudly three times but only once. He fought not to raise his hand to knock once more. His anxiety made it a physical struggle to resist the urge. If he knocked again, there would be no answer, she had promised him, murmuring in his ear from behind. Her words and breath had sent erotic shivers slithering down his spine into his crotch.
He had been eating lunch in the conference hall when out of the blue, she had appeared behind him, leaning over his shoulder on pretense of sharing some conference information. His conversation with the others at the table flew from his mind the minute her smooth voice purred, "Ten o'clock, toy. Room 512." Her concise, detailed instructions had poured on, ending with "Don't miss a single detail. I'm not in such a generous mood this time." And she was gone, leaving him struggling to control his breathing and a growing erection.
He had despaired of ever getting another chance to serve her needs. He knew his only lucky scene with her had been due to her own desperation and he had almost blown that. That was months ago, and since that night, he had dreamed guiltily of more scenarios with the Domme, but she had not invited him. He had found himself half-unwittingly, over and over, putting himself in positions he hoped would lead her to take him again. Nothing had come of his attempts, as if she hadn't noticed at all.
He ran back over the list of her commands in his mind one more time, checking them off one-by-one. He thought he would never forget a single detail of the instructions she had given him at that moment, but, with an electric jolt of horror down his spine, he suddenly realized he had forgotten one small item. His body twitched in his forced position, thoughts racing. He couldn't possibly make it to his room and back to retrieve his forgotten briefs before she came for him at the door, especially naked as he was. She had told him to wear only the jeans but to bring a pair of briefs with him. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how could I be so stupid? His mind cast frantically for any solution to his error.
With dread now, he watched the bottom of the door swing open. He wanted badly to look up but had been commanded to remain in his position until released by her, no matter what. From his bowed position he could only see darkness through that doorway. He heard movement, faint beyond the portal. He wanted desperately to leap through the door and out of the public hallway, but trembling, he held, seeking desperately to make up for the fault she would discover any moment now.
She looked down on him, kneeling at her door, of his own volition. The trust and gift of power gave her goose bumps. Awed once more by the amazing transfer that some found cruel but was to her both a tremendous gift and great responsibility, not to mention a heightened sexual opportunity. Even more than that though, some deep need was met in that transfer of control for both domme and sub in their own way. Each a reflection of the other's need.
She shook herself to turn back to the reality of the shaking man kneeling at her doorway. While his eyes were still downcast, she allowed herself a wide grin of animalistic enjoyment. Mine, she thought. She raised the whip and brought it down fast through the air with a threatening hisss. His body tensed and quivered, but his eyes did not come up. She reached down and clipped the leash to his collar.
"Keep your eyes down, toy. And you will stay on your knees. You haven't earned the right to stand. Bring your clothes." Tugging on his collar, she led him, crawling awkwardly, into the sitting area of her dark room. The only light came from street lights outside filtered through trees and sheer curtains. She stopped him, laying the leash along his spine to dangle down his ass crack.
"Well, I see you have brought your jeans. But you have not done everything you were asked to do." The last was said quietly, but with scorn. "I'm sor-," he began. "Silence! You will not speak until given permission to do so."
"This is not a good beginning at all. There cannot be any good excuses for not following all of my instructions. Perhaps you just wanted to find out what would happen? Is that it? You wanted to test my promise? You may speak now, toy, but I warn you – think carefully first. And you will look at me while you attempt to explain this lapse."
She was right. There were no good excuses. His only defense was honesty, he decided. Would she throw him out? Had he already proved that he was not up to her challenges? He looked up to speak, but his breath caught deep in his chest at the impressive sight of her, her long legs and arms sheathed in shiny leather, dark eyes looking coolly down on him. Damn, he didn't want to disappoint her or, worse, lose his chance to be dominated by her. Stammering, he launched his appeal.
"Thank you, Mistress. Of course, you're right. There's no good excuse. I meant to bring the briefs too, like you told me to. I couldn't hardly think all day. I've been so nervous and excited to do what you want. All I can do is try to make it up to you, Mistress. I'll do anything to make it up to you. Please don't give up on me." He nervously stumbled to a halt. He hoped his conviction had come through to her. But the silence stretched out.
She began walking slowly around his kneeling figure. She reached out with the leather crop and, touching him for the first time, even though indirectly, trailed it lightly over the small of his back, down his buttocks, down the back of his thighs. Thwack! A light tap stung the backs of both thighs. Oww! I'm in trouble. He thought, fleetingly, of calling it off, backing out. He was flat scared he wouldn't be able to cope with whatever she would demand from him.
She rubbed the sting marks with the crop. He worried about where it would head next, but relished the feel of her touching him, even in this way. Tapping, she signaled him to open his legs wider. She dragged the crop between his thighs and teased his scrotum with the cool smooth flap of the crop. His softened cock began stirring again, in spite of his brain's real worry about the intention of that crop.
Finally, she said, "I expect better from you." The crop suddenly sizzled through the air, making hard contact with his left buttock. He bit back his surprised yelp. The wicked sting grew, sizzling through his crotch and abdomen.
