After their love-making, He was ready to make a move on the day. He leaned down and kissed his submissive.
"Come my dear, it's time we showered and dressed."
He stood up and took her hand as they made for the bathroom. He requested her to wash him first, and so she had the delight of running her soapy hands over His body. He smiled lazily at the touch of her knowing fingers as they not only washed off the soap, but also eased some of his tensions from the long flight the previous day. He felt himself relax as she covered every inch of him with loving caresses.
However, she left his flaccid cock till last, and before touching it, asked permission in a low voice. Part of her being a submissive required her to treat His sex with the utmost respect; it was not to be touched by her in any way without his express permission.
He had done this for a number of reasons. Firstly, in order to emphasize her position as a sexual submissive in their relationship. He, obviously, was allowed to touch her at will. Secondly, it was to provide another point at which she had to request permission in order to complete a task set for her, and so reinforce her subordination. And lastly, to limit her ability to initiate sexual activity in any direct physical way. Of course, He required her to display herself to him, to move and position herself to indicate her constant readiness and willingness to submit to his advances.
He had been encouraging her, in particular, to think about the way she moved, thinking about herself as a sexual person. As a result, she walked more uprightly, her shoulders pulled back and her breasts pushed forward. She swayed her hips more and was more graceful in her movements, constantly aware of her sexuality. As a result, she had an added attractiveness about herself that other men were noticing more, and she smiled herself when she found them hitting on her more frequently. Her Master was uncovering her attractiveness, and His was the only one to benefit unless he gave express permission otherwise.
Mind you, he had also been working with her on her clothing, helping her to choose clothes that also heightened her sexual appeal. But, it was her inner attitude that made the biggest difference, and was there whether she was clothed or naked.
When she humbly requested permission to wash His sex, he smiled, nodding to her. With infinite tenderness she knelt on the tiles and carefully soaped his dormant manhood. She had always been intrigued by the way that men's cocks grew so much when aroused. But in this case, there was the added thrill of caring for her Master's pleasure. Her hands and her focused attention made his cock stiffen, and at one point she looked up and sought permission to give Him her mouth for his use. He stroked her hair, amazed at the natural way she behaved so submissively.
"No my pet, we don't have time for that now. Hurry up, because I am going to wash you when I am clean" When he had been rinsed of the last of the soapy residue, she stood, and raised her arms over her head to allow her Master access to her body.
His hands were firmer, and his sure touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her. His fingers invaded her body, pushing in and out, asserting their mastery of her. Her sex and her arse were penetrated, yielding meekly to Him. Her breasts, buttocks, hips, thighs and the rest of her body were rubbed clean under the warm water.
While washing her hair, he encouraged her to lean back, eyes closed, and relax into her trust of him. She did this gladly, and so their shower time together was as intimate a part of their lovemaking as the act of sex itself.
SMACK
His spank brought her startled out of her reverie, and then he kissed her lightly.
"Fun time over, my darling. You need to go and get some towels to dry us off."
That wonderful lazy first morning together, they dried, ate a light breakfast and set off to do some shopping.
For him, there was such pleasure in shopping for a slut submissive. Before they set out, he had chosen her a light mid thigh halter neck summer dress to wear, and some strappy sandals; no bra, no knickers, no stockings. As soon as they stepped out of the door, her nipples tightened, sure that everyone could see her nakedness through the thin material.
As the morning wore on, he delighted in making her wear tighter and shorter articles. Not only that, but when she came out of the changing cubicles in each revealing outfit, he insisted that she do it properly, putting on a show for him.
So she learned to step out gracefully and slowly pirouette, lifting a skirt to show more thigh, or pulling down a top to display her cleavage. Not quite a strip tease, but the start of one. She felt her sex moisten as she displayed herself for Him, knowing that there were others who were shocked by her wanton behavior, but she knew she was pleasing her Master.
In a small café, they sat next to each other at a table at the back. At one point, during the conversation, he placed his hand on her face, cupping her cheek. She felt her heart go into free fall, the intimacy of his touch making her wish to slide off her chair and kneel to Him. Her eyes closed and she rested into His palm. When he took his hand away, it was like waking up from a dream.
At another point he slipped a hand down between her thighs and probed her naked cleft. She blushed at his boldness, but couldn't stop her thighs from slipping apart to allow him easier access. She also blushed at how wet she was, sitting next to Him, knowing that he had the right to fuck her here and now if he so wished, and she would gladly grant him that. He removed his fingers from her moistening cunt and offered them to her.
"Smell how hot you are my slut. My fingers are dripping with your juices, and I think you should clean them off with your tongue."
In a daze, she did just that, slowly licking his fingers, her eyes molten with need for Him.
But he was in no hurry, knowing that this waiting only added to their pleasure. Back in the apartment, he made her strip off her dress and shoes, and then go and put away the clothes they had bought together.
At last, she was done, and naked once more, she knelt in front of him where he sat on the sofa, waiting for his next command.
That night they were going to a BDSM party, and he already knew what she was to wear. But although the red and black corset was perfect for her figure, there was an extra bit of decorating to do on her skin.
While she watched him, he unpacked the rest of the traveling case.
On the table he placed a number of items including a paddle, two floggers, and a cane. By them he placed a set of nipple clamps linked by a silver chain and with hoops for weights. On top of these he placed two further chains.
"My darling. I am going to take great pleasure in showing you off at the party tonight. You already know the outfit I have planned for you. However, there is one more thing I require, and that is to mark you so that others will see how you liked to be whipped."
Her stomach tightened, in fear, anticipation and excitement.
"Come here and kneel in front of me."
In a moment she was there, kneeling between his legs, her back upright, obedient to his command.
He started by locking her play collar on her, then removing the public collar. She sighed at the promise of the heavy leather.
He stroked her face and kissed her, then passed his hand down to her tits, weighing and fondling them, rubbing their nipples. She whimpered at his touch, still aroused from earlier.
Then he reached down and placed his lips on her flesh, sucking one of the soft rubbery nubbins between his teeth and biting down until she gasped. Still gripping it with his teeth he pulled back, and then let it go. She shuddered, her breath caught in her throat.
He repeated the process several more times, alternating between each reddening tip. With this less than tender attention, they rapidly hardened and became more prominent.
When he was satisfied with their size, he placed the clamps on them, sliding the clip until the flesh was squeezed between the plates like little tires. She moaned at the pain, but was also aware of how her sex tingled and swelled.
Taking some small lead weights, he attached one to each clamp, distending the nipples and pulling down her breasts into points. The pain was digging deeper into now, and she felt herself fill with the lightness of her altered state.
Next, he picked up the longer chains. These had small clips which allowed him to adjust how long they were when attached to her collar and the clamps. He set them so that if she kept her head slightly down, then they didn't pull on the rings. But if she arched her back or moved suddenly, then the chains would tighten and she would tug the clamps, tweaking her nipples.
"Well done my pet, you look so beautiful like that."
She swallowed, aware of the ache, and knowing that removing them would bring fresh welcome pain.
He stood her up and, like the previous night, made her kneel on the couch. With her forearms on the back, her breasts swung free, their movement making the weights swing and tug downwards, which in turn caught the restraint of the chains to her collar. She rolled her shoulders, longing for more, for stronger deeper sensations.
CRACK
The paddle landed with some force, and she jerked her head up – tugging the chains and making her gasp with the extra jolt of pain.
Sweet Jesus, she thought, that was good. She breathed out, and slowly lowered her head.
CRACK
This time she stayed still, feeling the heat of the blow flood her body and the endorphins racing through her. She arched her back down, pushing out her bottom to the Master who understood her needs so well.
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK.
