Jonathan came home to find Selene naked, on her knees, head bowed low in deference to her Master. Her long caramel hair flowed down her back. She had so much of it, it was almost all Jonathan saw. Her palms were face up to him, and she looked to him like an ancient goddess as she offered to him her truest Self. He never grew tired of the sight. He felt a rush of adrenaline just seeing her there, knowing she had been waiting painfully for him, possibly for hours. These moments were the purest for them both — she needed to be punished and he was the only one who could straighten in her what felt misaligned.
Jonathan walked right around her as if she were merely a hallway adornment, taking his time settling himself. Selene remained motionless, speechless, as was expected - just as he trained her. The way he overlooked her as if she were an inanimate object immediately set her body alight with desire.
In truth it was difficult for her to remain still. Her knees screamed in pain from being folded underneath her tired body for such a long stretch. Her hips stiffened long ago. She tried small readjustments but nothing released her from the pain. Finally she stopped resisting and welcomed the pain into her body, as she always did in the end. Once the pain flowed freely she was able to identify other sensations within her body she had numbed as well. Her nipples, cold and protruding, were desperate to be tortured - aching to be pinched and squeezed. They were so insistent she had to resist the urge to do it herself. Her pussy was throbbing, wet and begging for something, anything! to be thrust inside. Her fingers were twitching to do the job, but with great focus she kept the backs of her hands pressed flat atop her cool thighs. She understood well her body was not her own to touch when she was offering it to her Master. He still had not spoken a word to her.
She heard his footsteps headed back in her direction and she was filled with equal parts of excitement and dread. She never knew what to expect from her Master but she knew he would not be gentle. Jonathan slowly circled her body then stopped directly in front of her. Selene resisted the urge to lift her gaze. Instead she memorized the patterns of the irregular scuff marks on his black dress shoes while he stood over her for what felt like an eternity.
She felt her humiliation painting her pale body with broad strokes of crimson. They flashed down her neck and spilled onto her chest while he studied her naked body with intense scrutiny. She became completely engulfed in shame and was grateful he couldn't see her face with her head bowed so low. But there was no hiding from her Master. He grabbed her face, gripping her firmly underneath her chin, forcing her head upward to meet his eyes. These eyes looked so different from Jonathan's. These were her Master's eyes - cool and dark. She felt her pussy responding warmly to their coolness. Her hips instinctually wanted to move but she collected herself with deep breaths, committing her hips firmly to the cold floor.
"What is today little slut?" He asked her. She could feel his warm breath on her lips. She was aching to lunge forward, to kiss him with the desperation she felt.
She was confused. Does he want the date? Did she forget something? Shit. Her mind was racing.
"Tuesday?" she was not sure what kind of response he was looking for.
"That's right. Good girl. So what was yesterday, you filthy cunt?"
"Monday? It was Monday, Master." She felt his energy building. The tension filling up the room caused her to wince reflexively the first time she said "Monday".
"That's right. So you're not as fucking stupid as you act then. And do you not remember me telling you - you stupid bitch - that I had a very important meeting on Monday?"
Although his words sounded angry, his body betrayed no emotion. She envied his ability to control both himself and her at the same time. She struggled to control herself with the most basic of emotions.
He let go of her face and for the first time she noticed the rope in his other hand. Seeing the coil of white made her tremble with excitement. She was practically humming when she said, "Yes Master, I remember."
"Then please tell me why, whore, you were not on your knees like this yesterday when I came home? It seems to me you are a day late."
Selene did not know how to respond, and knew his question merited no response. She couldn't take her mind off the coil of rope long enough to conjure a response anyway.
"I see you getting excited you little slut. But you will be disappointed. You are here for punishment, not pleasure. Little sluts get punished. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master, I understand."
"Say it." He owned her completely in these moments but he still had to test it.
"Little sluts get punished," she repeated, exactly as he had trained her.
"Good girl." He said her most beloved words as he lunged towards her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, causing her to lose her balance. Selene yelped in surprise as he started to drag her down the hallway by her hair, keeping her body held low to the ground.
The pain in her scalp was pleasantly jarring and for a brief moment she was certain all of her hair was going to be ripped from her scalp. She began scrambling with her legs, trying to keep up with his pace to protect her hair and neck. She couldn't get her footing and her legs kept slipping out from under her. She thought about how much this would please him. Her arms were flailing, grabbing in vain at his hand, trying to get him to release her hair.
He stopped when he reached the threshold of the bathroom and tossed her onto the hard tile floor. He stepped over her and began to fill the tub with water. Selene felt the warm steam rising up to choke the air. She laid still on the cold tile, like wounded prey scared to incite its predator. The thud of his drop made her head sting on one side. She felt him securing rope to one ankle and it made her pussy begin to drip with anticipation.
Jonathan saw the state of her pussy. Darkening and enlarged, practically screaming at him, it was begging to be pleasured.
"I thought I told you you are here for punishment not pleasure?" he asked, coyly, like a cat pawing at his wounded prey. She could only whimper in response, knowing she could not stop her pussy from desiring this. She could hide it at times but not when she was so exposed to him.
He grabbed her forcefully by one knee, causing her body to roll out, opening up to him. Her legs spread wide around him in the confined space. As soon as sure was vulnerable, exposed, he slapped her bare mound. The prickling sting reverberated down her pelvis. Her pussy was extremely sensitive because it was so full of blood. Selene almost laughed when she realized it was her own pleasure causing her so much pain in this moment. He brought his hand down on her repeatedly, one blow after another. With each strike, her confliction grew. She wanted it to stop but knew she needed more. She contracted to protect herself but each time he immediately pressed her back out for more until he was satisfied. He left her pussy burning on the outside and aching on the inside.
Jonathan raised himself up higher on his knees, towering over her. While he pressed down hard on her chest with one hand, he used his other hand to part the lips beneath her mound of stinging flesh, and carelessly shoved two fingers inside her aching pussy. The surprise of it made her pause briefly before she started to writhe and moan, grinding down onto his hand.
"No bitch. What did I say?"
But her hips wouldn't stop. Instinct consumed her and it felt impossible for her to fight against her nature. She whined and squirmed - desperately grabbing at his hand while she tried to use him for her own pleasure. She knew better than to do this. He was her Master. But she was beyond her own control now.
He moved his free hand from her chest to her throat and squeezed the delicate skin of her neck.
"What did I say?" He repeated calmly. Jonathan was in complete control of himself while she was desperate for orgasm.
"Little sluts get punished," she whimpered through his grasp. Tears were forming from both the pain of the grip on her neck and the desperate need for release she knew she would not get.