"I'm going to the kitchen to get a drink," you tell me. "When I return, you will be naked, kneeling in the middle of the room with your hands on your head. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," I reply. As you leave the room, I quickly undress, draping my dress, bra and knickers over the back of a nearby chair. I kneel up, keeping my legs slightly apart, and place my hands on my head. You have trained me well in the positions you expect of me. I can feel my breathing quicken and my heart speed up as I anticipate your return.
"Good girl," you comment, as you enter the room. You put down two glasses on a side table and then walk around me. I feel pleasantly vulnerable and self-conscious under your penetrating gaze, very aware of the way that the position pushes my breasts out in front of me, as you look me over, your eyes lingering on my legs, arse and breasts. I can feel my mind quieten as I kneel still, beginning to sink into that submissive space where I don't have to think or make decisions for a change, relaxing into your authority and trusting you to guide me and instruct me.
You order me to place my hands behind my back and then I feel you attaching a cold metal handcuff to each wrist. I shift slightly to adjust my balance as you come back in front of me, reaching down to run your hand over my breasts, feeling my nipples stiffen under your touch. You grasp my nipples firmly and pull them upwards, watching my back arch, until I let out a whimper. Then you pull them just a little bit further before releasing them.
I relax back into my posture, watching you closely as you pull something from your pocket. I shiver slightly as you let the cold metal of the chain drape over my chest before you grasp each nipple in turn and apply the clamps, tightening them just beyond the point where you see me wince slightly. The initial pain begins to fade into a heightened awareness of my hard nipples, corresponding directly to a growing dampness between my thighs.
You unzip your trousers, smiling as you see my mouth open slightly in expectation. Holding your hard cock in front of my mouth, you allow me to lick the tip, swirling my tongue around the head to seek out the most sensitive spots that draw a soft moan of pleasure from you. I lean forward to lick the length of your cock, struggling slightly to keep my balance with my hands cuffed behind me. Your cock pushes forwards and you guide its length into my mouth until you almost reach my gagging point, feeling me lean back and my lips tighten around your shaft in an attempt to prevent you pushing any further. We both know that I would have little choice in the matter, especially with my hands bound behind me, but training my deepthroating skills is not in your plan for this evening. You hold your cock still for a moment before pulling out and allowing me to catch my breath.
As you move behind me, you open a drawer, removing two items that I cannot yet see. I feel a ball gag nudging at my mouth and open it to allow you to position it. You gently lift my hair so that you can buckle the strap firmly behind my head, then grasp my hair tighter and use it to tug my head to the side before bending down to gently kiss my neck. Then you wrap the soft leather of my collar around the front of my neck, adjusting my hair again so that you can fasten it.
"Now you are correctly dressed as my sub," you tell me. "You are my little slut, ready for whatever I desire." I nod in reply, gazing up at you with wide eyes as I see the next item that you have removed from the drawer - a black leather riding crop. We haven't used the crop yet, although you have occasionally threatened it as a punishment. But you can see the trust and acceptance in my eyes, mixed with the apprehension and vulnerability.
You move towards me and rub the leather end of the crop over and around my breasts, listening to my breathing quicken. Then it moves down over my stomach and between my parted legs, sliding in the dampness that is gathering there. As you walk around me, you trail the tip around my thigh and then up to my arse, before gently tapping my bum with it.
Continuing to walk around me, you trail the crop up my back, around my waist and then back up to my tits before tapping them. "Kneel up straight," you order firmly, "and push your chest out." I obey immediately, eager to please you. I moan softly behind my gag as you scrape the tip of the crop over the sensitive tips of my clamped nipples. You walk behind me again and I feel the crop land on my arse. A second, slightly harder blow follows. You continue, gradually building up the intensity until I begin to emit muffled squeaks from behind the gag.
You pause and reach down to rub my reddened cheek with your hand until you feel me relax into your touch and hear my breathing return to a more normal rate. You kiss me softly on the top of my head before standing up again and hitting my other cheek with the crop, again starting gently and building up until I resume my muffled whimpers. You finish with one very hard slap, hearing me cry out and watching me pull against the handcuffs to try to protect my bottom. You reach down to stroke the pain away, feeling me soften as you kiss my shoulder and whisper in my ear, "Good girl."
You remove the gag from my mouth and tug gently on my collar to guide me to my feet before pulling me towards you and kissing me firmly, claiming my mouth with yours. You pull away, but hold onto the chain between my nipple clamps, watching my tits stretch and my body arch towards you.
"What now, for you, little one?" you ask rhetorically. I gaze up at you, silently begging you to spare my sensitive bottom, but knowing that I will take whatever you give me and do whatever you order.
You use your grip on the nipple clamp chain to lead me over to a table, pushing my thighs up against it. A gentle push between my shoulders encourages me to bend forwards and I wince as my clamped nipples make contact with the hard table, adjusting my position so that I am not resting my weight on them.
"Spread your legs," you order. I shuffle my feet apart, but not enough, and feel the crop tapping the inside of each thigh until you are satisfied with the position of my legs. Your hand reaches between my legs, feeling how wet I am, pleased (but not surprised) to find me soaking. Then your finger slides up to my clit, rubbing it gently as you ask, "Who do you belong to?"
"I am yours, Sir," I respond.
"Yes," you reply. "You are mine. My little slut."
Your hand comes down hard on my already-red arse and I begin to cry out as your spanks get harder and harder. But despite my protests, I keep pushing my bottom out towards you, and each time your hand slides between my legs you find my pussy becoming even wetter.
You stop and I hear you removing your clothes before I feel your hard cock nudging at the entrance of my cunt. My hips push back towards you instinctively, desperate to feel you filling me. With one swift movement, you slide into my pussy and I moan in pleasure as I feel your full length inside me. You grip the chain between my handcuffs as you thrust into me. Your other hand reaches around to find my clit.
