The instant he stepped through the door I dropped to my knees, hands clasped behind my back, eyes staring at his gray lowtop Chucks. I was naked except for my collar, and that combined with my position made me feel completely subservient to him. I was desperate to beg him to take me, use my body in whatever way would most please him, but I didn't say a word. He had instructed me beforehand to remain silent unless asked a direct question tonight. I was aching for his touch after six long months without it, but what I wanted from him was of no significance.
He just stood there for a long moment. Wondering what he had in store for me was making me even more desperate, which I knew was precisely why he was doing it. Finally he spoke.
"I'm glad to see you're showing some discipline, slave. This is how I expect you to behave--calmly awaiting my orders. It shows what I want from you is all that matters."
Hearing him tell me I was pleasing him had its usual effect on me--my pussy throbbed and I felt a rush of happiness. I would do
anything
to hear him say that I was pleasing him.
He was silent for a moment, and then suddenly his hands were on my head, shoving me down to his feet. Startled by this, it took me a moment to arrange myself, hands on the floor to either side of his feet now.
"Lick them clean, slave," he said. These particular Chucks had been his usual pair for some time, and they'd accumulated a good amount of dirt by now.
I began to lick, gingerly. I did still want to please him, but they were just so
dirty
, and it made me feel humiliated that he would make me do this.
"Dirty, aren't they?" he asked. "Just like you." And just like that I loved doing this for him--having him tell me how dirty I was
always
got me going. I still felt humiliated, but suddenly I was relishing that humiliation.
"All right, that's enough," he said a few minutes later. "Follow me. Crawl."
He began walking towards the bedroom and I crawled after him. He had never made me crawl before and it made me feel so much more submissive that suddenly I never wanted to walk in his presence again.
We reached the bedroom. "Stand up. Hands behind your back." I did, and I felt the comfortingly familiar snugness of my leather cuffs being fastened around my wrists, followed by the sound of a small padlock snapping shut. When he locked my cuffs, I always tugged against them, loving having proof that I really was bound and at his mercy.
"I got something for you," he said, and I looked at the bed for the first time. On top of the bed there was a large black spreader bar, red-and-black leather cuffs that matched the ones on my wrists affixed to each end.
"Lie down and spread your legs," he said. I did. I knew he expected me to spread them wide enough to reach both ends of the spreader bar, and I was both excited and dismayed to discover that this required opening them as far apart as they could go. I could see that this position would become uncomfortable very quickly.
He fastened my ankles to the cuffs and then stood back. I was beginning to breathe more quickly, getting more desperate to beg him to take me with every passing moment.
I looked up at him. This was the first time tonight that I'd gotten to see his face, and I was hit full-force by exactly how gorgeous he was. His large brown eyes behind his thick black glasses were studying me, and I hoped so much that he liked what he saw.
"This is your proper state, slave," he said. "Bound and helpless for your Master. I could do anything at all to you right now and you wouldn't be able to stop me." I knew he was right, and even though I trusted him, it still made me nervous to be reminded that I was, yes, fully helpless.
I had no idea what he planned to do to me, but I certainly knew what I
wanted
him to do to me--with my pussy so exposed, all I could think about was having him touch me with his long, thin fingers. I didn't have the freedom to masturbate without his explicit permission, so I hadn't gotten any pleasure since the last time I saw him six months ago.
And then suddenly his middle finger was between my legs, giving one quick rub up the length of my slit. But then, just as quickly as his hand had appeared, it was gone. It took all my self-control to not beg him to continue.
"I know what you want without you even telling me," he said. "You want me to finger your soaking-wet pussy some more." He paused to smile at me. "You're in luck, because that's exactly what I'm going to do. But I'm going to make it a little more interesting."
