It is always something novel, I'll give him that much. It's never the expected, and very rarely does he use what would be termed the common forms to punish me. He always thinks of something, the best word I think is creative, he comes up with some very interesting things but as I have said it must be conceded that they are very creative.
Before I get too far in I should probably clarify, I am a 19 year old submissive. I'm only 5' 3" tall, with a shapely (not fat and not skinny neither) body. I would say that my dirty blond hair and eyes that change colour are my most interesting features; Master may disagree.
Master on the other hand is taller than I am; about 5' 8" with a very dominant personality, with loads of care and understanding, as a good Dom should. I find him attractive, though like anything else I suppose it is subjective and many may disagree. He has very short black hair and brown eyes.
Anyway getting back to the story. I was to be punished, and I wondered very much what it would be. He never gives any indication of what it may be until he is ready. He leaves me hanging the guilt of what I have done and the waiting to find out my fate being the worst parts of anything he could possibly decide on; and him knowing it means he uses is to his advantage of course.
This time wasn't as bad as some of the things though I know I shouldn't think of it like that, I should think of it as a bad act and that I should strive to do better. On a ranked scale of behaviour, with 1 being the least and 10 the most, this one sits at about 4. All I wanted was to play, he knows he makes me horny and he deliberately wound me up, so I asked, and when he said no, I asked again ... big mistake.
So I was left, naked and knelt in the corner, my nose pressed against the wall, the anticipation mixed with my horniness did nothing to dry up my already moist pussy, and in fact it was making it far worse. I knew that if things kept on down the road they were on my thighs would soon be glistening with the product of my arousal.
I gently rubbed my thighs together trying to increase the stimulation on my aching pussy but it wasn't working, my clit throbbed almost like it was begging for attention. My nipples were so hard they too joined in the ache. My hands were clasped behind my head but it took every inch of my self control not to move them to ease the ache in my chest, even if not in my poor soaking wet pussy.
He was behind me; I knew he was I could feel his eyes on my back, almost appraising me. My cheeks coloured at the thought that he could see my arousal, and if not now I knew it soon would be. I kept as still as I could, I swear I did but after a bit of time, (I couldn't see the clock, so at a guess 15 minutes) my legs started to ache.
He spoke then; it was almost uncanny like he knew what was going round in my brain, there was no way to tell I hadn't moved a muscle. "Now little-one, you are a brat sometimes you know that?"
I didn't know how to respond so I stayed silent. I hoped against hope that this would not lead to more trouble but in my heart of hearts I knew it was a really bad idea. "I'm speaking to you little-one, what does rule number 4 say?"
I racked my brains, rule number 4, and then it floated into my head, "Rule 4: Speak when you are spoken to, Sir."
"Well? I asked a question and when someone asks you a question generally they expect an answer do they not little-one?"
I bit my lip, I could reply with my usual sarcasm but somehow I knew that that would just add another nail to my coffin and even though it seemed I was feeling masochistic that would just take the biscuit. "Yes they do Sir."
"So are you going to answer my question little-one?" his voice was level but there was just the smallest hint of menace there, warning against further flipentness.
"Yes Sir," my voice wobbled a little, giving just a small hint to how much the whole situation was turning me on. "I know I can be a brat sometimes Sir and I'm sorry." "You may be sorry, mostly because you got caught out and will be punished, but you will have to show me by future conduct that you really did learn your lesson because I'm sorry will not wash." His tone was sharp, "I'm sorry falls too easily off your lips these days, as if it's the magic word that will get you out of trouble and make everything better but it won't."
"Yes Sir," I took deep breaths trying to calm the heat rising throughout my skin and the throbbing insistence of my clit, it almost made me tremble.
"Come here little-one, and I will explain your punishment." I could almost here the smile and coy look on his face, as I slowly stood up feeling the blood rush into my legs. I kept my arms locked behind my head and my eyes focused on the floor. I knew where he was, sitting in his chair like I knew he would.
I sunk to my knees in front of him, staring at his feet my lip trembling almost as much as my legs. "Little-one," he soothed, his voice relaxing me, still trying to breathe deeply, the heat still rising, the area between my legs feeling on fire. "You wanted to play didn't you," I nodded and whispered yes Sir at a hardly audible level. "Well little-one you won't be playing but something will give you some stimulation."
My eyes were wide, I couldn't work out what he meant but I was sure that it would all become abundantly clear in the near future. He reached down beside his chair and produced some rope and my cuffs, which only served to deepen my confusion. "Rise and stand in front of me baby, with your legs slightly apart." His voice was strict but also soothing like honey.
I had to comply and so I stood in front of him and now I knew he couldn't miss my arousal, the smell itself wafting freely and my thighs coated on my own juices. My face reached an even deeper shade of red that he could know.
He reached forward and slid a finger in bringing it to his lips, "Mmmmmmm, you taste fantastic my baby, and I'm the only person who gets to taste as its mine isn't it?"
"Yes Sir," I could hardly speak my legs shaking so hard my whole body alive at his touch.
"Now," he smiled, speaking as much to himself as to me. He took the rope and thread it between my legs. As he did it the realisation of what he would do dawned on me. He knotted the rope and sat it snugly over my throbbing clit, and I gasped at the sudden contact, it brought me infinitely closer to the edge. "Not yet, my pet, not until I say otherwise." I nodded numbly knowing it would have to be so if I didn't want to make it worse.
He quickly finished tying on my rope thong, which spread my lips and teased my clit all in one garment, if you could call it a garment. He then affixed my cuffs to my wrists and pulled them down from behind my neck and affixed them behind my back before using another bit of rope I had not noticed to lash my elbows together which meant I could hardly move my arms at all.