You walk into my office, take a seat across the desk from me, and lay down a key on the wooden surface in front of me. You're breathing through your nose as your mouth is blocked up by a black, leather muzzle gag - the key fits the padlock that holds the gag in place. You've placed your hands flat on the table in front of you.
Your silky, dark hair hangs to your breasts and down your back, almost the same shade as your black lace bra, matching panties and suspender belt, black stockings and 4-inch spike-heeled stilettos.
I look across the table - first at you, then at the key. Then I look you in the eye.
"Thank you for returning my property. I presume that the padlock associated with this key is also exactly where it should be?"
You nod, once.
"Good. Leave your hands where they are and stand up," I say, standing myself.
You do so, your heels clicking briefly on the floor as you straighten your legs to leave you bent over the table as I remove the chair.
"Now stay right there and think about what you have done," I say as I re-arrange your dark brown hair so that it all falls down your back, "and when I come back we'll discuss your punishment."
"Mmmf!"
Returning, I hesitate in the doorway to observe my naughty girl leaning over my table, long, stockinged legs running from shiny, teetering heels to firm, barely-clad buttocks.
"I'm glad to see you listened, Anthea."
I drop some things on the ground behind you as I re-enter, and your head flicks very slightly to one side as the mixture of muffled clumps and clanks makes you start.
"Am I to understand that you regret your earlier outburst?" I place the flat of my hand at the base of your spine and stroke up your back as I walk round to face you again. "That your actions were not what are expected of you?"
You look me in the eye and nod - again just once. I hold your gaze silently for a few a seconds.
"I appreciate your sentiment, but..." I also place my hands on the table, either side of the key you returned to me, and lean so that my face is 12 inches from yours. "...you must appreciate that if you don't do what you are told, you will be punished." Again, I hold your gaze for a few seconds before leaning back and surveying my shapely beauty before me, gagged and expecting her punishment.
"Put your elbows on the table."
You do so, and your black-clad breasts swing closer to the surface of the table as your back becomes almost horizontal. Your hair falls to spread round your neck and the muzzle gag that silences you. As I walk to the pile of equipment I dropped behind you, this time I place a large hand on your right buttock, squeezing it firmly and enjoying the well-made quality of my property.
Having picked some things up, I return to face you.
"Hands together now, Anthea."
You comply, soundlessly, your eyes searching mine. Are you wondering if I will be merciful? Are you hoping it will be over quickly?
"Punishments must fit the crime, Anthea," I say clasping the first cuff over your left wrist, "so if you are not going to come when I ask you - " the second cuff is fastened securely around your right wrist " - then you are not going to go anywhere."
"Mmmmff!"
With your slender wrists now cuffed together on the surface of the table, I wrap a red nylon rope around the chain between the cuffs and tie it securely in place. I pull the rope sharply towards the edge of the table in front of you, and you bend further as I pull you forwards. Your hips are pulled hard against the edge of the table, and you let a small squeal of surprise escape.
"M-!"
I stop what I am doing.
"You will learn the virtue of silence Anthea - that is what the gag is for, after all." I walk round behind you and place my hand on your right buttock. "But while you are learning, we can certainly use aide-memoires."
You feel my hand lifting and a brief coolness on your skin before it is replaced with the sharp sting of a hard spank. You stumble forwards - moving the whole table - and another squeal escapes your stopped-up mouth.
"Mm-!"
"Oh, Anthea - you must try harder than that."
You know what is coming and this time, as my hand strikes your other rounded cheek, you remain silent. Your breasts dangle quietly in black lace an inch from the table's surface,
"That's better," I say, and return to the rope tied to the chain holding your wrists together.
Being careful to avoid the key in front of you, I take one end of the rope and tie it firmly round the table leg in front and to the right of you. Having done this, I walk round behind you, seeing that both your cheeks blooming pink on either side of your thong, and that your body shivers with the anticipation of a further smack.
I let you shiver in vain and come round to secure the other end of the red rope to the table leg to your left.
The two necessary spanks have ruffled your hair, obscuring one side of your face. I pull it all clear, gently smoothing it back over your back before re-positioning the key right in front of you.
"This key is mine, Anthea, as is the padlock, these handcuffs, this rope and all the other equipment behind you." I lift your muzzled face with a finger under your chin. "The only thing that is yours, Anthea, is this gag - everything else is mine." You hold my gaze, eager to show your understanding of this fundamental truth.
"You don't help yourself to my things, Anthea - you do what you are told with them." I remove my finger from under your chin, and move to the pile of my equipment before returning to your left side.
"If you are not going to bring me the things I ask for when I ask them, then what is the point in having them?"
I begin winding a second red rope round your left arm, just above the elbow.
"I'm not greedy, Anthea," I say wrapping the rope round your right arm and pulling it tight to the left one, "I don't want to play with all my things at once." I begin winding the rope round both arms at once, and wrapping it round the rope stretching between your limbs to pull it tighter. I know you like the feel of these soft nylon cords on your skin, as I know I like putting them there. I finish tying the last knot.
"For example," I come round in front of you and stoop to slide my right hand beneath the table top and your increasingly-restrained body, "I'm not going to play with these tonight - "
You feel my fingers on your left breast through the material of your pretty black bra. You look into my eyes, my face only inches from yours as I find the nipple, already hot and hard, and squeeze it between a finger and thumb. I can hear the short sharp breaths from your nose, and feel the heat of them on my face.
" - and you know how much I like them." I move my hand and squeeze the whole, full globe of your right breast, and you shudder slightly as you feel your breast fill my large hand, revelling in the intimate touch in contrast to the unforgiving touch of the steel and rope binding you. Your eyes roll back slightly, the lids fluttering almost shut.
"But greed is a sin," I say, standing. "We should exercise restraint and self-denial at every turn."
I gather your long, silky hair in my hands and pull it all firmly into a pony tail. The back of your head is pulled up as I do so, and you are forced to look down directly at the key that is the cause of your current predicament. I forgive the little grunt of pain - for now.
"So tonight, as you couldn't exercise the self-denial necessary to leave my things alone", I wrap a rubber band round your hair, and lower the tail into the middle of your back, "you will learn restraint the hard way."
The room fills with the crack of another smack on your exposed backside.
I stand and admire my progress for a few seconds, before leaving the room for five minutes.
-
"Did you think I wasn't coming back, Anthea?"
I re-enter the room from the door behind you, greeted by the sight of my sexy dark brown's figure bent over - and tied to - the table. It is some time since I spanked you on the way out of the room, and the pink has almost faded from your naked cheek. "Were you hoping this was the extent of you punishment?"
You know better than to nod or shake your head. Still behind you, I pick up another red rope.
"Spread your legs."
You comply, moving first your right leg and then your left leg. With the rope in my hand, I snake my right arm up between your legs and the rear edge of the table; as it rubs against your pussy through your thong, you try to wriggle away from it, involuntarily, but your stance doesn't allow you to get very far. With my left hand, I reach under you, take the end of the rope, and withdraw my right arm - rubbing your pussy again.
"There's more to come, Anthea - much more to come."
Standing, I tie the end of the rope around the one I have already tied your arms together with. When it is attached, I go behind your bent form and take hold of the end of the rope that dangles between your legs. I pull on it slowly but firmly, and your elbows move slightly back towards the rear of the table until the ropes tying your shackled wrists to the front of the table become taut. This slight backwards movement of your torso pushes your ass further out and up, away from the edge of the table.
"That's better," I say, pausing to admire this consequence as I notice it. I tie the rope tightly to a stout eyelet set into the underside of the rear of the table.
When I'm done, I survey my handiwork up this point.
My Anthea is bound by steel cuffs at her wrists and red nylon ropes at her elbows. Her large breasts have been squeezed into a bulging cleavage between her arms, and her beautiful eyes radiate a gratifying willingness to please above the shiny leather muzzle gag locked over her mouth. With her upper body now pinned to the table, I know I can now turn my attention to her shapely legs.
"Thank you for remembering that those stockings and suspenders are my favourites, Anthea."
Unseen by you, I have to re-arrange my cock in my pants as I feel the beginnings of an erection just looking at your underwear from the waist down.
Still behind you, I run my rough hand slowly up the inside of your left leg starting at the ankle.
I move slowly up, savouring the feel of your stockings and the firmness of your thigh, the tenderness of your groin. Your leg fidgets as you feel my hand move from your stocking-top to your bare skin. My hand comes to rest on the fabric covering the lowest part of your mound, and I linger there momentarily, rubbing once, gently, before you feel my touch on the bare skin of your right groin. Your skin is hot to my touch - is it tingling?