A light flicks on, and there's the click and the lock of a door behind you. The room is bright, white, windowless with a low ceiling. I motion for you to stop by the door you have just come through. I am wearing a crisp white shirt and charcoal trousers - you are in your underwear, sporting your collar as ever.
By the door hangs a slender leather lead with a clasp on the end. I take the lead and clip the end to the ring on your collar. You follow my eyes. Curling the lead around my hand, I walk you across the room to an odd wooden piece of carpentry. Stopping you again, I kiss your lips gently, lovingly. You rise to my kiss.
"You trust me, don't you, darling?"
"Yes, Christopher, I do, totally."
"And you will unhesitatingly do all that I wish?"
"Anything, my love. I am yours to use as you choose to."
Kissing you again, my hands encircle you, unhooking your bra. Your breasts spill free, nipples hard. I fondle them briefly, then hook my fingers inside your panties and ease them down over your creamy hips and bottom, working them down to your ankles. You step out of them obligingly. My palm finds your mound, brushing your fur and tracing the damp line of your slit. You rise a little on your toes.
I take the end of your lead, double it and push it between your teeth. You clamp down on it, the end dangling. Good girl, I say. You sneak a smile. Now I move behind you. My hands come round, cupping your big breasts, and I press my body into your naked back and bottom. You can feel the swell of my cock against your ass. As I knead your tits, rolling those hard nipples between fingers and thumb, my mouth descends onto your throat, just below the edge of your collar. My teeth clamp down and I begin to kiss, then suck harder. As I suck and bite, suck and bite, you feel the blood pound in your neck, and you realise I am giving you the first of today's marks. You start to moan as the pain builds - my teeth sinking deeper, the sucking ever stronger. All the time, my fingers and thumbs pluck at your stiff nipples, pulling, twisting, stretching out long, winding your tits round and round. You squirm and groan as I increase the pain to neck and nipples.
At last I lift my head. A vivid purple mark highlights your throat, almost a wound. My teeth marks remain. I let your tits drop, the nipples hard and swollen. You sigh. Now to your front again, I take the lead from your mouth. Your own teeth marks stud it. I tug you by the lead, closer to the wooden item, standing you before it.
"This is a kneeler, darling. It was reclaimed from a church." I pat the wooden crossbar, step on the padded leather knee cushion. "But you will not be kneeling today." I position you carefully, feet either side of the cushion so your legs are open wide. I then place your hands on the edges of the crossbar. The pose has you slightly bent forward, ass back, legs apart. I take some white cord and carefully bind and knot your wrists and ankles to their places, doubling the knots. Your lead I wind round and round the crossbar so it is taut between neck and kneeler. I stand in front so I can see the hang of your tits. You look up at me, eyes wide.
I produce a fat black anal plug, about four inches long with a tapered end. I grip your hair, tugging your face up against the lead, and pop the plug into your mouth. I push it to the back of your throat. You cough, splutter, gag, but I hold it in there, and close your mouth on it. I watch your throat pulse as you try to adapt. A strand of drool escapes, hangs from your bottom lip. I turn and turn the plug in your mouth - your eyes water as I stretch cheeks and throat. "Good and wet, darling - you'll want it that way." You nod and try to suck and gulp on the fat plug in your mouth.
Now I move behind you, and stoop. I feel a slight tremble in your legs as I grasp your thighs. I pat your ass reassuringly. Then I grip your ass cheeks and pull them apart strongly. Your cunt and asshole lie revealed, stretched. The cunt drips and gleams. Your asshole is a dark knot of tight lines. I pull it further open, exposing the opening, and move my face closer. Your scent is strong, humid. My tongue extends and beings to tease your asshole, rolling round and round your pucker, then prodding inside slightly. You squirm and moan deliciously, and I feel a tremor through your ass and cunt. I dab your hole with my wet tongue, then spit a fat gob into it. The spit wets your asshole more, and trickles into your cunt.
I stand again, back to your front, and I take the plug from your mouth - you release and gasp, a cough, and lots of saliva and gag down your throat. I reach round you and place the tapered tip of the wet plug against your wet asshole, and screw it inside you, still standing before you, face to face. I watch you wince as the plug opens your hole and fills it. I press it deep, up to the base.You try to pull away from the plug, but your bonds restrain you. You yelp as the plug goes deep up your ass. My eyes on yours still, I coo, "Good girl," and stroke your head.
With a flourish, I withdraw a slender black crop, and flex it before your eyes. I feel the flinch.
"Darling. You know what this is?"
"Yes, Christopher."
" And know what I am going to do with it?"
"Y-yes, Sir."
It is a mark of your quality that you adapt to the shifting roles and relationship so deftly.
"And why am I going to use it on you, darling?"
"It is not my place to know why, Sir. It is simply my place to allow you to do it."
"And why do you allow me?"
"Because I am your cunt, Sir. I am yours. Your pleasure is mine."
I walk slowly behind you. The ass plug protrudes, black and hard. The insides of your thighs are slick from your cunt. I lay the crop across the crease between the tops of your thighs and the bottom of your ass - The Sweet Spot, the place where the pain is most intense. I pause for a moment, carefully evaluating aim, angle and force. I notice you tremble.
At last my arm goes back and sweeps in smartly. FFWWPPPPP. You cry out , tugging against your collar lead and arm bonds, but movement is severely restricted. The stroke comes up a lovely dark swollen red. I lay the crop on the exact same spot.
"One. Thank you, Sir."
