Need

I switch on the shower, letting it heat up before stepping under the stream of hot water. I let the water spill over my body, little rivers cascading down between my breasts and over my ass. I stand still, relaxing under the heat, wetting my hair ready to wash it. Closing my eyes, I sigh softly.

Upon opening them, I start to get ready. I have an hour to prepare myself for you. I take my time in the shower, using a body scrub to soften my skin, using a new razor to make my legs and pussy smooth and tidy. A luxurious shower gel is massaged into my skin. Finally I lather and rinse my shampoo from my hair, using my fingers to work every last bubble of soap from my scalp.

I step out onto the bathmat and wrap a soft warm towel around my body, letting it absorb the water from my skin. Brushing my teeth then moisturising my face, I feel refreshed and almost ready. It is then that I feel the nerves start to build. Thirty minutes until you arrive.

I move through to my bedroom, my clothes are laid out on the bed and my make up set up in order of application on the dresser. I like to be prepared for you, never wanting to disappoint. I have set out my black hold ups, black lace knickers and black under bust corset as per your instructions.

I set about towel drying my hair before using the hair drier. I brush it and tease it with my fingers, giving it some volume. The just fucked look I call it sometimes. Although, I have a small chuckle with myself, knowing full well that I'll look completely fucked not too far in the future.

I start to dress, rolling the hold ups from my toes with precision and patience, letting them sit comfortably two inches from my pussy. My knickers next, and I feel the lace settle against my pussy, gathering wetness quickly. The corset is last. I clip the front fasteners then pull it tightly at the back, using the ribbon to pull my waist and stomach in.

I feel my posture change, my breasts thrust out in front as I'm forced to keep my back straight. My nipples harden in their uncovered state. Looking in the mirror, I see the flushed skin of my cleavage and think of how you'll enjoy this sight.

Ten minutes to go. I start applying my make up. Minimal and natural, just how you like it. A light covering of foundation and some mascara and I'm ready.

Five minutes. I'm downstairs awaiting your arrival. I text you, letting you know I'm ready for you. As the time changes I receive a message from you, "strip naked, kneel on the floor in the hall facing the front door. Knees wide apart, arms behind your back. NOW."

I panic and freeze, wasting valuable time. It takes me a moment before I jump up from my perch on the arm of the sofa. I start with the corset, unhooking the clasps as quickly as I can, folding it and placing it where I had been sitting. Next I roll down one of my stockings, placing it with the corset. My fingers are just grasping the top of the other one when I hear you open the front gate. I have the other stocking off so quickly I almost lose my balance.

The front door handle is being pushed down as I move quickly to where you told me to be. I'm standing in front of the stairs, facing the door, exactly where I should be kneeling, caught in a dilemma of whether to continue stripping myself of clothing or kneel for you. This is how you find me.

You open the door wide and stand on the step staring in at me. Your raised eyebrows and slight shake of the head speak volumes. Your disappointment hits me hard, and I try to explain.

"I...I...I'm so sorry, Sir. I ran out of time Sir, please Sir, please let me try to continue."

You nod curtly at me, and watch me intently as I push my knickers down over my hips.

"Now kneel."

Your voice is sharp and conveys such authority. I quickly follow your command, clasping my hands behind my back, pushing my breasts out to you, hoping to impress. I keep my chin raised, but my eyes lowered. I'm shaking, unsure of what your reaction is to me appearing to not follow your instructions. I want to try and explain further, but I know you don't accept excuses. I know you expect obedience and good behaviour at all times.

You stand still in front of me for a while, making me shiver under your scrutiny. I hear you finally begin moving around. You close the door behind you, locking it, the audible clunk of the lock making me feel caged. You hang your jacket up and come to stand in front of me. I continue to look down. You step around me, as though I'm merely a piece of furniture, an object, and start to ascend the stairs. I daren't turn around.

The bathroom door opens and closes again. I wait patiently, concentrating on my breathing. Now that I have been divulged of my underwear, there is nothing collecting my juices as they flow from my pussy. My thighs are soaking and I'm worried that I may actually be dripping onto the carpet. I'm so lost in thought, I'm startled by the creak of a step. You are now standing directly behind me.

You reach out a hand and stroke the side of my cheek with your fingertips. Such a gentle gesture that conveys so much, that asks so much. I lean slightly into your hand, transferring my trust into you, letting you know I'm ok.

"Which part of my message was unclear?"

"No part Sir."

"Well then why was I greeted with the sight of my sub standing in her panties instead of kneeling naked?"

I involuntarily wince at the word panties. Considering the things we have done, I oddly find the word to be distasteful.

"I ran out of time Sir. Your message was quite late Sir."

"Hmm...I do like to see you feeling uncomfortable. Was it the word panties that garnered that reaction?" You pause, waiting on my reaction again, laughing as you see my head dip in embarrassment at the word. "Hmm, I'll remember that one little sub. But that aside...are you blaming me for your inability to follow a direct order?"

"No, no, Sir. Of course not. I just...I just ran out of time because you didn't give me much time Sir," I hurriedly blurt out.

You have leaned down behind me and the warmth of your breath in my ear startles me as you whisper, "that sounds an awful lot like blame to me sub. Maybe you should rethink your answer. I'll ask you once more. Why did you not follow my instructions? Do not make me ask again, that will not be pretty."

I take a moment to think before responding, "I am sorry for not following your instruction Sir. It won't happen again Sir. I didn't try hard enough Sir."

Your teeth nipping my earlobe make me gasp as I finish speaking. "Good girl," you murmur into my ear before rising to stand. My entire body convulses as I react to those words, an audible moan escapes my lips and my head tilts forwards more in arousal.

"But you know I will need to punish you, don't you, little sub? For your inability to follow instruction. And for your insubordination in blaming me of course."

You let those words settle in.

You step around me again, treating me as an inconveniently placed object. I remain still, watching your feet only. You move around confidently, picking up your bags and taking them upstairs, ignoring me. I attempt to shift over to give you more space to pass just once, but your hand finds its way into my hair and you yank me back into place and I understand immediately. My pussy seems to only be getting more and more wet. My nipples are hard. My mouth is dry with nerves and anticipation.

My thighs and knees are starting to get uncomfortable but I endure it, wanting to continue pleasing you. You come to stand in front of me finally. It must be ten, maybe even fifteen minutes since you arrived. I want to look up at you but know better. You step forward until your thigh is resting against my face. I turn my head slightly and let my cheek brush against your body, trying to signal my need for you.

You step back and bend down in front of me and I spy several things in your hand. You place them all down by your side before beginning to apply them all to my body.

The first is my collar. The collar that signifies that I am an owned submissive. That displays my submission to you. You fasten it tightly around my neck, lifting my chin gently and kissing me once it is fastened. I smile shyly at you, and I'm rewarded with a smile from you. I feel safe.

The second, and third, are the biting, evil clover clamps for my nipples. You take your time with these, stroking, licking, sucking, nibbling and teasing my nipples until I'm squirming beneath your touch. You hover over my erect nipples with the cruel clamps, watching my eyes as I look searchingly into yours. I'm looking for the joy you feel when inflicting these clamps on me. You're watching for my reaction, for the wave of pain that washes over me, then the determination in my eyes as I remind myself to breathe evenly and deeply; for the flash of pain, the indignation even, that crosses my eyes when you tug or flick at them.

There is a chain connecting the clamps and you swing this back and forth several times, using your other hand to caress my breasts. You concentrate on the sides, moving slowly and deliberately. Cupping my breasts, one in each hand, you lift them slightly, watching as they weigh back down, the slight jolt sending shock waves through my nipples. You take them in your hands again, squeezing them gently at first. The clamps becoming more and more unbearable as you squeeze harder. Letting go of one breast, you use that hand to tug on the chain, watching me, pushing me until I cry out and collapse forward against your shoulder. You let go of the chain and my other breast then, letting the pain spread through me and settle in my body.

You stand upright again and move forward so your feet are between my spread thighs. You raise your foot, using the toe of your shoe to press against my clit. I'm embarrassed by how the soft leather glides down my slit. I can't keep the moan in.

You take a step back, and I hear you tutting. I risk glancing up at you and I can see you smiling.

"Look at the mess you've made of my shoe, you little slut. You better have means of cleaning that mess off to hand," you say, knowing full well there is nothing within grabbing distance.

I continue just to look up at you, unsure of what to suggest. I'm just opening my mouth to respond, to apologise, when you start speaking again, "ah, what an excellent suggestion. That tongue of yours knows what to do with pussy juice covered items if I remember correctly."

I flush, feeling the heat of my blush rinsing up my neck to my cheeks. I shake me head, "I didn't mean my tongue Sir. I was meaning to apologise for not having anything to clean your shoe with Sir."

The words are barely out of my mouth before you have your hand in my hair and are pulling harshly on the fistful you grabbed.

"Don't get mouthy with me, you filthy little bitch. Get your tongue to work cleaning your mess off my shoe now, or you'll be punished. And you better do a good job of it, or that will earn you punishment too." With that, you push my head down to your foot. I have to put my hands out on either side of my head to stop me from toppling over and I worry that this might irritate you further, but you seem to accept that I need to do so.

I am hesitant at first, but a sharp, "Now bitch," gets my tongue out and licking. I'm humiliated beyond anything I've known. I can taste myself on the material, smell my arousal. I'm leaning so far over my clamped nipples are almost reaching the ground. You pull your foot away abruptly and thinking you're done with me I start to push myself upright.

A sharp pain in my breasts stops me before I can even get halfway. You have stood on the chain connecting the clamps. You pull it away from my body, dragging my body down with you in an attempt to ease the pressure. You adjust your step on the chain so it is pulled taut and my lips are forced against your shoe. I get the message, and continue to lick, cleaning up every last drop of my juices.

You move your foot from my tongue's reach and I lean my forehead down beside you. Your stance on the chain remains and I am unable to right myself.

"Stay," you say. The one word command makes me feel objectified and degraded. I feel more wetness being released from my pussy as I do exactly that. You step over me, and walk calmly up the stairs. I strain my ears in an attempt to hear you, but I am none the wiser to your plans when you descend the staircase.

You resume your position in front of me, clamping your foot down on the chain once more. You drag it slightly further from my body this time and order me to bring my knees further in and raise my ass higher.

"Yes Sir," is my only response as I breath deeply and evenly, letting the pain from my nipples subside into a burning warmth as I start to float away. Your firm commands aiding my journey into sub space. Your control over me giving me such freedom.

The first stroke of the flogger lands on my right ass cheek. I jump slightly, not expecting it at all. Even such a small movement causing the burning in my nipples to become a white hot flash of pain. I'm pulled a bit from my goal at this sudden intensity change. The next stroke, although I'm more prepared, causes me to jump again.

You move the flogger all over the skin you can see. My back and my ass and my thighs get treated to your expertise. You play my body like a musical instrument, knowing exactly where to aim for to make me sing in that way you like to hear. The sounds of me begging fill the room in between strokes.

"Please, please Sir, oh please, please no, please Sir, I can't take it Sir, oh, oh, oh, please no Sir. Please...please...please..."

Until my begging eases off to a whisper, then a moan, then you see my body moving up instead of away, searching for the sting, for the caress of the leather.

I'm now simply a bundle of sensitised nerve endings, my flesh alive and burning from your treatment. The pain of the strokes has ceased and now it feels more and more like a gentle caress.

"Please Sir, please..." I whisper loudly.

"Please what? What do you want?" You ask.

"More Sir. Harder please Sir," I ask you quietly, "please Sir. Please."

You laugh once, in a short burst of amusement. Your foot moves and drags the chain back along the floor some more, causing the clamps to tighten and pull on my nipples. I feel a scattered explosion of pain across my ass, once, twice, three times before realising what you've changed. Your leather whip sits comfortably in your hand now, the throngs landing on my skin with such precision and a sharp bite.

"Is that what you needed my little sub?" You require gently.

I let out a short squeal as you bring it down again, the ends landing on my ass and some curving round my hip, "yes," I shout out, "yes, that's what I needed Sir. Thank you Sir." The gratitude in my voice is unmistakable.

You switch back to the flogger, the wider leather throngs soothing the bite from my skin, making me groan in pleasure. You move it across my body, letting the ends catch my pussy, the wetness adding slightly to the sting it causes as you catch my left hip. I barely even have time to breathe before the nasty whip falls again.

You hear my sharp intake of breath for the first, and nothing but a yelp for the second. "Remember to breathe little sub..." Your voice carries gently down to me on the floor, soothing, relaxing. I begin breathing evenly again, letting the pain intensify and build as I float away again.

My body is still for you, my ass proudly presented to you. I can only imagine how it must look by now. Littered with the little half circles from the whip, on top of an all over redness. My nipples are screaming in agony, brushing off the carpet as every stroke causes my body to move back and forth with the momentum. But my main focus is you Sir.

You stop suddenly. I don't move, but continue to kneel before you, even when you lift your foot from the chain that was effectively holding me captive in position. My only awareness is of how much I want you to continue. I'm not disappointed.

You lean down in front of me and, using your fingers under my chin, raise me up to my knees again. I'm sitting back on my heels, my arms automatically behind my back. I look up at you from my position on the floor below you, my eyes pleading with you for more. I let you see how open I make myself to you, spreading my knees apart wide, showing you the result of the whipping. My clamped nipples red, my breasts thrust out on display for you.

"Thank you Sir."

"For what little sub?"

"For punishing me Sir? For correcting my behaviour Sir."

"Oh no," you laugh, "my lovely little sub, that wasn't your punishment...you enjoyed that far too much. No, that was purely for enjoyment. For my pleasure. You'll know when it's punishment. I won't let you drift away. I'll make you aware of every moment of your punishment little sub. Don't you worry."

I look up at you, and I'm sure you can see the fear in my eyes. You're not wrong though, I was thinking I'd been lucky with my punishment this time. You bend down and kiss me hard, your lips taking mine, your tongue forcing it's way into my mouth. I respond with enthusiasm, the threat of the punishment still to come pushed to the back of my mind. Your hands go to my breasts, squeezing them gently, making me gasp and moan into your mouth. After a short while you start to release the clamps. My body reacts before the pain reaches my brain. Shuddering, and trying to pull away from you. But you manage to take them off, you mouth moving from mine to take my nipples in your mouth one at a time while your fingers twist and tease the other. The blood rushing back into them as you play with them so cruelly.

You let them both be as you kiss me quickly once more, watching my body slump down in relief as I'm allowed to take a moment. As I'm recovering, you clip my lead onto my collar and let it hang down between my breasts. The metal is cold on my skin, the stark contrast of heat almost tickles and I giggle.

I catch a smile from you as you stand over me. Another kiss follows before you take the lead in your hand and tug gently to get me to follow you. Leading me round in a circle then up the stairs, I struggle on my hands and knees but you keep the pace slow for me, taking me into the bedroom where you position me on my knees at the foot of the bed, pushing my head back to rest against the bed, telling me to sit on my ass and keep my legs spread.

I watch you quietly as you begin taking various items out of your toy bags. Rope, a spreader bar, the wand, the wide leather paddle and a new wooden paddle I haven't seen before. Items of torture and pleasure...the exact feeling they give blurred by the different ways they can be used.

You start to strip then, unlacing your shoes first, your socks following, then your belt, which you remove from the loops of your trousers and lay it next to the paddles, I try to swallow down my nerves...you remove your trousers and boxers...unbuttoning your shirt as you look at me. I've not taken my eyes from your cock since it was visible. I'm subconsciously licking my lips. I can see the precum glistening on the tip, imagining my tongue flicking over the head to taste it all. Finally you are naked and you move towards me. I open my mouth and look up at you. Silently asking you for permission. You answer me by coming to a stop with the head resting on my tongue. I wait for a signal from you, the almost imperceptible nod that gives me permission to begin.

Until then, I'm still, the taste of your precum taunting me as it gathers on my tongue. Saliva is building up as your cock acts as a gag, preventing me from swallowing. My jaw aching from the strain of keeping still. I long to place my hands on your thighs and pull you towards me, straight into my waiting throat, letting my lips close around your length. But I wait.