I stand at the door and close my eyes, trying, and failing, to calm the knot of nerves that's settled low in the pit of my stomach. Your voice echoes in my mind as I look down, smoothing the dress absently "That's your next mission, and dress different, different to anything we've tried before".
I've chosen a dress that's styled somewhere between burlesque and ballerina, a simple corset style bodice, skirt finishing just above mid thigh at the front and tapering to drag lightly on the ground at the back. The style itself is fairly unremarkable, but the materials used to create it bring it up a level, thousands and thousands of small soft downy white feathers layered together, the skirt layered with them, lengthening down the back into large ornate peacock feathers. I've chosen to keep my legs bare, a risk given your love of stockings, and picked out a pair of plain white open toed heels with a thin ankle strap. My makeup is minimal, hair pulled back and styled with soft curls, a delicate feather covered choker surrounds my throat and my nails are painted a soft shimmery silver. Your fetishes are many and varied but it's this one, clothing, that causes me anxiety. Your needs so far from my normal style I rarely know where to start and I know before opening the door I've probably failed again.
I take a deep breath, place my hand on the handle and step through, eyes on the ground in front of me. I sense your presence immediately, calm and powerful, filling the room, along with a hint of your scent. I scan my eyes quickly around the room, taking in as much detail as I can, a low table covered in toys, a pair of cuffs attached to rings on the floor and as I cross the floor slowly raising my eyes to meet yours I note another pair hanging from chains attached to the ceiling. Your dressed in a pair of leather pants, feet bare, chest bare. My eyes scan across the bulge of your cock hidden in your pants, your tight hard abs, and as I stop in front of you my eyes finally meet yours. Your hazel eyes are cold, hard, and I wonder if it's my lateness or the outfit you disapprove of. We stand there for long minutes, me fidgeting slightly, uncomfortable, wondering if your comparing me to a frightened dove. You, still and calm.
Your first words are said with no emotion or feeling "get him out and suck him slut". And I drop immediately, your obedient little slave, crouching in front of you, unbuttoning, unzipping and carefully freeing him. Unable to help myself I nuzzle my cheek against him, breathing deep and seconds later feel the sting of your hand as it connects with my cheek "I said suck him you useless slut, is that sucking him?" your tone is harsh and angry, the words stinging more than the slap and I flinch, eyes filling with tears in the knowledge I've displeased you as I wrap my hand around the base of your shaft, lips parting around his helmet and slide them down slowly working my tongue against the underside.
I sigh quietly as my lips near his base, letting my hand drop to your balls, scratching gently with my nails, just the way you like. I move my head back, scraping my teeth tenderly along his length, feeling him twitch and throb. I set my teeth just below the smooth swollen edge of your helmet and bite down gently, swirling my tongue in a circle. I feel your hand cup my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek. I look up at you, craving the magic words, the ones that set my pussy on fire, your mouth is twisted into a grin, but it's not the one I'm expecting, it's cruel and taunting. I feel your hand move back, fingers dancing up the nape of my neck, spreading out over the back of my head.
You press firmly, and I let you guide my mouth back down your cock, stomach twisted in a knot of anxious need. My lips are now pressed against the base and I can't help but gag slightly, my throat tightening and contracting around your helmet. I move to pull my head back again but your hand stops me. I breath through my nose, relaxing against you, I know this game, we've played it before, but then your other hand moves between us and pinches my nose closed, cutting off my air. I try hard to keep still but I can't, I bring my hands up, pushing at your thighs, desperately trying to pull my head back but your hands just grip tighter and panic sets in. Without thinking I sink my teeth into the base of your cock, I bite with force, not the playful bites that frequent our games, this one is designed to hurt and as I bite down I drive my fist up into your tender swollen balls.
You double over immediately, releasing me, an intense pain wracked groan escaping you. I pull myself from your cock and move swiftly, grabbing the cuffs hanging from the ceiling and snapping them closed around your wrists. I move away from you, sucking in long deep breaths, I watch you for a moment then step forwards, lifting your head, tilting your face up to mine. Your eyes now filled with confusion, pain, wet with tears as you try to steady your breathing. You notice the cuffs finally and pull at them, testing them, "what the fuck baby?" your voice trembles and I reach out to the table with one hand, pressing a finger to your lips with the other "shhhhh, no more 'baby', no more talking" I replace my finger with a ball gag, pressing it against your lips firmly but you refuse to open them. I reach down, wrapping one hand around your balls, still throbbing from the punch. "My rules now 'baby', I suggest you follow them." my tone is flat with a hint of spite to it. I tighten my grip a touch, a warning, your mouth opens slowly and I push the gag inside, securing it tightly. I move away, pulling at the chains, drawing your arms up and away from you, pulling higher till your forced up on your toes.
I step back in front of of you and run my eyes down your body, they settle on your cock, red angry teeth marks clearly visible on his shaft. I gasp softly at the realisation of what I've done and drop to my knees again cradling him in my hand and covering him in soft kisses, "I'm so sorry baby, I didn't mean to hurt you I really didn't" the words are rushed, my voice soft and pleading. I stroke him lightly with my fingers, tickling up his shaft feeling it swell and harden despite the pain he still feels. I sink lower, your shaft brushing my cheek and run my tongue over your balls, the skin hot and tight, I lap slowly, coating them in saliva, lazily stroking your shaft.
I hear you groan again, this time soft and low and begin to stand, tracing a path up your body with my tongue. Lingering on your abs, across your chest, stopping to circle your nipple. I feel your abs tighten under my hand as it slides up to your other nipple, rolling it between my fingers feeling it grow hard. I grip it between thumb and finger and squeeze gently, then twist it viciously. Your body stiffens, trying to move away but there's nowhere to go. I raise myself to my full height and look you in the eye. My expression is one of someone who knows they're in complete control, cocky, almost arrogant as I regard you "steady baby, we've barely started."
I take a pair of scissors from the table and begin to cut away your pants, moving with no hurry.
I throw the scissors back on the table, your pants now in pieces on the ground and look over the options on the table. I select a crop, testing the weight in my hand. I turn back to you, raising the crop slowly till it's resting against your wrist then begin to draw a path down your forearm past your elbow to the tender skin just above your armpit. I give a short flick of my wrist tapping it lightly against you "so many places to explore, so much unmarked skin, I think it's your turn to scream, your turn to beg, your turn to be my little slut".
I step closer, moving the crop down over your shoulder, up your throat, pressing it hard under your jaw "would you like that baby? Would you like to show me how much of a slut you can be?" You mumble something behind the gag, shaking your head "No? Interesting, because the hardness of your cock right now is telling me you do" I take a step back and flick the crop hard connecting the tip with your left nipple, it's effect immediate, you screaming behind the gag. I count silently to ten then flick it again, this time across the right.
I watch as the welts rise on your heaving chest then trace the tip lightly over them "pretty, that color suits you" I tilt my head to the side, a smile playing across my lips and drag the crop down lightly over your abs, up the shaft of your cock, circling his helmet, watching him twitch hard, almost slapping your stomach.
"I think he's enjoying this far too much don't you baby?" my voice is a cruel taunt and as soon as the words leave my lips I flick the crop against the inside of each thigh then up, connecting hard with the sweet spot on the underside just below your helmet. The pain is excruciating, tears running down your face, breathing short and hard, saliva beginning to escape the sides of the gag.