Sirs Pleasure Is Your Submission

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the continuation of a story entitled Your Journey Starts on Sir's Desk. While this is designed to be a standalone tale, you are more than welcome to explore the genesis of how Miss has found herself bound and blindfolded and happily at the delicious whim of the man who was once just her boss, but is now so much more...

Total darkness. Total silence, save for the sound of your panting, loud in your head. Your sight is deprived by a silk eye mask, a specialty item carefully selected. The ear plugs are more generic, yet the effect is no less erotic. Your world is reduced to the senses he has allowed you to keep. Smell; his cologne and his skin, his clean sheets, the warm wax of candles, your open, dripping pussy. Taste; the head of his cock, -brushed all too briefly across your lips then withdrawn, lingering on your lips. Touch; earlier, his tongue and lips and fingers and other things being caressed and teased over your skin, now, just the burning tingle of desire.

You also marvel at the feel of soft and unyielding leather. While not uncomfortable, he has bound you in a way that leaves you completely open and exposed to him. It also makes it impossible to touch your aching, swollen clitoris. Your left wrist and left ankle are shackled together by restraints that are of such quality, it's clear that your Sir spares no expense where his games are concerned. Your right side is identically bound, and there you lie, in the middle of his vast bed.

Your mouth is dry from breathing through it, and because clearly all the moisture in your body has fled to that part of your body that so readily displays to him your arousal and need. You admire, not for the first time, at the way you respond to him. More than simply a physiological response to sexual stimulation, your pussy seems to open and spread like a flower for him, your nectar rushing forth, over your lips and down your inner thighs and ass. You have the time to reflect on this response because he has stopped the delicious seduction that seems to have continued for hours. As has become his habit, he plays with your mind and body in so many different ways, keeping you dangling so close to release and yet still completely within his control. It is overwhelming, maddening and intoxicating all at once. So here you writhe, fingertips unable to reach the spot you hunger to touch, breathing ragged, and nerve endings on fire. This game has become a familiar and wonderful one. Though your need for his touch, his lips, his cock and glorious release is nearly all-consuming, your trust in him is also complete. In the momentary lull of his expert teasing of your body, your mind wanders back to that first world changing day in his office.

Your body had been spent, pushed to the limit of what you had thought possible in terms of experiencing pleasure. Your body was sheened in sweat, and you lay in his arms on the giant sofa that until then you hadn't even been invited to sit on. Despite all evidence to the contrary, his arms had been the safest and most perfect place to come to rest. He had stroked your hair, kissing you gently on your the lips and cheeks and forehead. He'd whispered soft, gentle, soothing words. It had seemed such a contrast to the commanding, dominant manner in which he had drawn such body-shaking climaxes from you. After-care. That is what you know it as now.

"This is a choice Miss," he'd whispered, "remember that. Your submission is a gift. You are mine, but only because you give yourself freely. It's very important that our adventure be based on those truths. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir. I give myself to you..."

So begun the journey with your Sir. It had been like seeing colours for the first time as this new world unfolded. His care and adoration for you was absolute, but that didn't stop him using your body however he liked; you'd been fucked in your ass and pussy and mouth, spanked, caned and cuffed, licked and masturbated in his office, his home, in public...

A touch returns you to the now. The touch is soft and light, but no, not his fingers this time. You recognise the cool leather tongue of his riding crop. When first you viewed this implement you recoiled at the apparent cruelty it spoke of. But in his hands you have come to crave its kisses. It is more an instrument of pleasure than a device of pain.

A series of light strokes splash across your stomach and breasts, followed by a sharp glance on your exposed inner thighs. You whimper and writhe a little. Your body has begun to recognise the patterns and familiarities of his play. There will be light smacks on your pussy soon, and your back arches at the memory. Like a cool, smooth tongue, it is more of a gentle lapping than a smack. He brushes the crop over each nipple, followed by a smack. The subtle sting of the contact brings your nipples to a straining hardness. The leather slides smoothly over your belly. You let out a groan and your hips thrust upwards, eagerly awaiting contact. Once, twice, a third time he spanks your pussy. Immediately the leather is replaced with two slippery fingers, trapping and teasing your swollen clitoris. This time it is a cry of lust and ecstasy that escape your lips. He slowly works the flesh up and down, dipping every now and again to catch the sweet wetness flowing freely from you and painting it over you.

In your mind's eye you imagine what you must look like to him; moaning and gasping, cuffed and writhing, open and wet. You picture him gazing down at you. His cock will be like iron, thick and veined and pulsing. In the beginning you held strong misgivings that his predilection for these games was some sort of extortion of power over you. He had allayed your fears shortly after that beautiful day in his office, when your second encounter unfolded.

That tryst had ended with him fiercely holding you, proclaiming his adoration once again. Its beginning had been even more erotic, starting with a short email.

Miss,

I'd be delighted if you'd join me for dinner.

Kind regards,

Sir

The booking had been in a secluded corner of a restaurant overlooking the city. A single candle flickering between you had lit his face in completely different way. The stern, business-like manner was softened into something more boyish and playful. During dinner he smiled more than you'd ever seen before, with an easy laugh that was musical and infectious. At different points, while regarding you with a steady gaze, he'd commented on how amazing you looked, your hair, your scent. This other side of him was intoxicating in a different way and made the contrast with his dominant side even more irresistible. Which is why there was a flood of warmth that washed through you immediately when he leaned close and asked about his First Rule. You'd blushed instantly. You had carefully selected your outfit, applied makeup and slid into thigh high black stockings and wispy black lace panties. Rule one completely forgotten.

"Miss," he'd whispered, "Lift your eyes."

You'd looked up to see something predatory desirous in his eyes.

"Have you followed the rules?"

"No Sir," you'd replied.

"Well then, you'll have to rectify the situation, just as you did in my office."

Nodding, you had gone to stand up, but a gentle hand on your shoulder had stopped you. This time the glint was more mischief. Sitting down slowly, rising panic had clashed with delicious naughtiness. He wants you to remove your panties right here at the table. This is even more ridiculous than standing alone in his office. So why can you feel the dampness sliding between your legs? He arouses such desire in you, and with an ease that borders on shocking. His world, which a month ago would have graced only your darkest fantasy, is now slowly consuming you.

Trust. That is what he had offered and asked for. Just as it had been in his office, you have the choice to stand up and walk away. Like then, it is knowledge that you won't that shocks you. Though you had not yet realised it, this was the moment when you felt a shift, a movement away from horrified disbelief at it all and towards the heady thrill and indulgence.

With your heart thumping in your throat and your mouth dry, you had glanced around the room, and back to him. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, mixed with lust and expectation. The position that you were both in meant that in a real sense, you could easily comply with him and no one would be the wiser unless they were standing next to the table. That didn't stop the feeling of absolute certainty that someone would see you remove your panties and reveal your wet pussy right there at the table. The idea alone pushed your heart beat faster.

Manoeuvring in your seat you were able to edge the hem of your skirt up slowly. To your satisfaction, he had leaned over to watch more closely, and you caught a glimpse of the bulge straining beneath the fabric of his pants.

When the material was low enough, you glanced down at the dampness on the dark fabric. Your pussy was aching then, your clit swollen and insistent. Hooking your fingers into the fabric you slipped them past your knees in one easy moment. The panties deposited on the floor beneath your table, you had leaned back and spread your legs a little wider, letting Sir gaze down at your smooth, pink lips. On a whim, and completely against better judgement, you slipped of your shoe and placed a stockinged foot on his seat, raising your knee above the table. The look of surprise at this had been even more satisfying than the lust. With a demure smile you then placed your feet back on the floor, and turned back to finish your main course.

The rest of the meal had been a blur, save for two things. After your playful and slightly smug manner at having completed your task, he had upped the ante by reaching down, collecting the silken garment at his feet, and placing it in the inner pocket of his suit. But not before rubbing his thumb across the wet fabric

The second moment was during dessert of fresh summer berries. Taking a strawberry from your bowl, he had placed a guiding hand on the inside of your thigh. Shifting the material of your skirt up, he had once again exposed your bare pussy. You had stared transfixed as the bright red of the fruit moved to your delicate outer lips. You gasped at the chill, then stifled a cry as the ever so slightly rough skin of the strawberry barely parted you. Your cheeks had flushed with embarrassment and arousal as he had proceeded to fuck you gently with the fruit. You gripped the edges of the chair and closed your eyes as he used the tip to apply pressure to your clitoris. All at once the sensation disappeared and you had opened your eyes to see him devouring the fruit.

"Delicious," he'd whispered.

You could still feel the coolness as you imagined what a romantic sight the two of you must have been from afar; eating fruit from one another's plate. If only they knew how deliciously dirty it actually was.

After dessert he had whisked you away, a car collecting you both out the front. In the back of the car, your seduction continued. Aware of the driver's eyes in the rear view mirror, he had very deliberately licked two fingers, holding them glistening in the street light before you.

"Spread," he ordered.

Without additional prompting, you also lifted your skirt and watched as he trapped your clit between two fingers. Your fingers had gripped your seatbelt and stifled a moan.

"Do you like being fingered in public Miss?" Once again it was the obscene words that were just as much a turn on as the physical.

"Yes...Sir," you breathed. You really did. Taking no heed of the driver, all you were aware of was him and your submission to him.

He was casually alternating between working your clit in tiny circles and curling a finger just inside your hot, wet opening.

"I'm going to finger you like this until we get to my apartment, but you are not to come," he added.

"Oh God..."

You pressed yourself against his hand, and he obliged with a quickening of pace and pressure. Yet even as the pleasure built, it was the truth echoed through the sensation. Your orgasm was totally in his control. You were his, to pleasure as he wanted. It was, and is, so hot.

He continued to increase his pace and pressure before backing off, edging you until you were biting your wrist to keep from amplifying your lustful moans. By the time the driver had deposited you both, you were in a complete state, ready to fuck and be fucked and then do it all over again. What was obvious was Sir was in the same state, and barely able to maintain control of himself. The thought of his cool dominance being overcome with lust made you want to get him inside all the more. What would he be like when he lost control?

Kissing passionately all the way through the front door, the two of you had stumbled through his house to an entertaining area adjacent to the kitchen. There was a large and beautiful wooden dining table on a thick shaggy rug. Picking you up with one arm, he used the other to sweep unseen items onto the floor before placing you roughly on the table. At once he had your skirt up and was devouring your pussy. Gone was the practiced manipulation, replaced by animal lust. And it was amazing. His tongue snaked over your engorged outer lips, and slipped over the exposed inner ones. He flicked and sucked and occasionally nibbled your clitoris. All the while your head had been thrown back, your fingers tangled in his hair. The sheer passion of his onslaught quickly caused ripples of tension to echo out from between your legs. Your abs were

clenching and your thighs spasming.

"Oh fuck Sir, I'm so close, don't stop! Make me come for you Sir, make me surrender to you..." You held your breath as you lay suspended for the longest moment at the crest of your climax, before it came crashing down. You ground your pussy against his face again and again as you rode the pleasure. After what seemed an age, the intensity began to subside. But unlike in his office, Sir was not done with you yet. He stood up and you could see the sheen of your pussy smeared all over his cheeks and chin. He leant over and kissed you, letting you taste your orgasm on his lips. As he did, his fingers found the back of your head and gathered your hair into a bundle.

"On your knees Miss," His voice was a growl.

The thought of him using you to pleasure himself immediately set your arousal off again. Scrambling off the table, you found yourself kneeling before him. Holding you firmly by your hair, he had tilted your head back. As you watched he used the other had to unzip his fly.

"Oh Sir," you breathed "I want your cock so badly!"

Despite his obvious arousal, he teased you a little. Reaching into his pants he grabbed his throbbing cock and stroked in out of your view. He closed his eyes and groaned, making your craving for him even more acute.

"Please Sir, please let me suck your cock. Let me pleasure your cock."

Looking down at you he pulled his cock out. It was glorious. You wanted it with a ferocity that startled you. Thick and hard, it had beautiful veins decorating the length of his shaft and the head was pink and shining. You had wasted no time, grabbing the base with one hand and sliding the head into your waiting lips. It was smooth and hard and delicious. It seemed to swell even more as you began to slide your hand up and down the shaft while your tongue circled the head. Between your legs you felt a drop of wetness escape your lips. The feeling of him sliding down your throat, his shaft rock hard in your hand, his fingers holding your hair and the sound of his moans of pleasure were divine. You began to squeeze tighter and work him more quickly when his breath hissed through his teeth and pulled his hips away. You had looked up pleadingly at him, scandalised that you wanted nothing more than for him to shoot his hot come into your mouth.

"Not yet Miss." The flush of his chest and cheeks told you that he had been close, very close.

"First you're going to let me take my pleasure in other ways. Sit back on the table, and spread your legs, I want to see you get off again for me."

By this stage you'd have done just about anything for him, and your fingers were already at your clit by the time you were back up on the table. Before you, Sir proceeded to undress carefully, taking his time and catching his breath watching you all the while. He stripped out of his suit, but leaving his crisp, white shirt on. His cock stood out, hard and twitching. The whole process was intoxicating.

He stepped forward and swatted your hand out of his way. You gasped as he thrust three fingers into your dripping pussy. For a moment you thought he was going to take over, but he stepped back, and to your delight used your juice to lubricate the head of his penis. You needed no prompting, as your second orgasm was building again. You had fantasised for so long about something very similar to the scenario unfolding before you now. The reality was so much more erotic. Sir stroking his cock in front of you and using you for his pleasure were all elements around which your most recent daydreams were built.

You wanted so desperately to drive him to even more abandon; a show was what he needed. The heat and the energy and the urgency of him served to fuel your own desire. Lying back you lifted your knees, exposing your asshole to him as well. You licked a finger and very lightly brushed it over your anal opening. His moan told you the view was well received.

"Do you like this Sir? Your Miss all open and wet and turned on for you?"

Now it was Sir's turn to have his communicative abilities reduced.

"Oh fuck..." was all he was able to grunt.

Looking up at him, you could see the delicious strain your exhibition was placing on him. His breathing was shallow, his face a mask of concentration and his fist tightly wrapped around is bulging penis. It looked like he was struggling to hold back from the edge of orgasm.

"This feels so good Sir, rubbing my tight hole for you, getting you all turned on."

The words tumbled from you now, arousal burning even brighter within you seeing his response to them. Each phrase seemed to strike him, causing a convulsion of pleasure as he heard each dirty word.

"I want you to own my sweet pussy Sir! Please fuck me, fuck your dirty little Miss!"

This seemed almost too much and he was forced to stop and grip the base of his throbbing cock, and steady himself on his feet. He looked up at you, and there was a grin on his face. There was also a look of such wonder, play, adoration and lust that your heart stopped for a moment. Despite the sexual charge, you couldn't help but grin back at him. The moment was perfect, and far from diminishing the erotic nature of the situation, it somehow amplified it.

"You are quite remarkable Miss. And you have a filthy mouth!"

A moment of shyness had overtaken you then, and you remember blushing. He began to move towards you.

"Please don't misunderstand," he said, "I love it. But now I'm going to show you what happens to naughty girls with naughty mouths."

At once the shyness disappeared as the heat of the moment returned. Despite your wetness pooling underneath you, he leaned down and gave your pussy one long luxurious lick. That it was totally unnecessary made the movement even hotter. Him before you, the air of control and dominance very much returned. His stiff cock now hovered just before your engorged, dripping, slick opening. You stared at him, willing him to fill you. He brushed the head lightly over your clit and you cried out. Then you felt him begin to penetrate you. With agonising slowness, Sir's cock slid into you. It was the first time he had been inside you, and yet it felt as though you were made to be wrapped around him.