Dancing prisms cover the kitchen walls where the sun's rays strike the crystal studs on my leash as it sits in the windowsill. My hand goes instinctively to my throat to seek out the reassuring presence of the matching collar around my neck. I've done my chores; perhaps Master won't be too upset if I clip leash to collar and chain myself to a chair...or perhaps greet Him at the door with the handle between my teeth.
I love the control it symbolizes. When He puts it on me, I go where He goes, sit when He tells me, and speak when spoken to. I trust Him to give me the commands that will please Him and help me grow, and to correct or punish me when I'm deficient or disobedient. He will grow me into what He needs and wants, and somehow, along the way, I become more authentically myself. How odd.
Finally I hear the car in the driveway, and check that my hair and lipstick are in order. Fortunately, they are, so I kneel, knees spread in the entry to the kitchen; close enough that He'll see me in a moment, but far enough that if He's brought a guest, I can retreat and dress if so instructed. He does not yell to ask if I am "decent," so I'm to remain still and nude.
He enters and puts down His lunch bag, then gestures for me to follow Him to the living room as He grabs the leash from the windowsill; my heart leaps. I move to kneel by His chair, but He pulls me into His lap and wraps the leash around my wrists behind my back as He inspects me. "Very nice, pet," he pronounces, and I smile softly.
Master pinches my nipple suddenly, brutally hard, and I gasp. "You finished the list, pet, including paying the bills, changing the bedding, and prepping tomorrow night's dinner?" He twists the nipple another turn with each item on His list.
"Yes, Master, of course," I reply as my eyes begin to water from the pain. He'll stop when He's ready.
"God, I love seeing You hurt for me," He growls as He drops my nipple, which throbs as the blood returns to it. "We're going out tonight, pet. Grab Your coat. Nothing else." He unwinds the leash from around my wrists, and allows me to go to the closet and collect my coat. He holds it open for me, buttons it and secures the belt, then clips the leash to my collar before heading to the garage. Ever the gentleman, He opens the door and hands me the seat belt to fasten. When I'm done, He cuffs my wrists together and gags me, turning my coat collar up to make my captivity less obvious to other drivers. He caresses my face, as I look up at Him, then slaps each cheek just enough to pink it, then shuts and locks my door before entering His. "Oh, it's going to be a good night, kitten. A very good night."
I don't know where we're going. Nothing is familiar once we leave our neighborhood. He hums and weaves deftly in and out of traffic. Except for the twinkle in His eye and bulge in His pants, I would think He's forgotten about me.
We arrive at a large brick home. A blind justice statue decorates the lawn, and I can see someone's fastened a gag around its head, too. Master smokes a cigarette before opening my door, and walks me to the enclosed entryway. There, He produces a key, unlocks the cuffs long enough to remove my coat, and refastens them. When He returns the key to His pocket, He produces a black scarf, whose soft sheen is the last thing I will see for several hours. I hear a slight jingling, and feel my nipples clamped. His hands caress my flanks, and He turns me to the wall, pushing me forward. I catch my balance on it with my forearms before the paddle's first blow strikes my ass. "I can't deliver You here without decorating You first, now can I, pet?" His breath is hot, His voice low in my ear, and I whimper in reply. Another dozen blows follow, each stinging more than the last. His hand finally travels between my thighs, to see if the spanking has had its usual effect, which it of course has. I know He's tasting my juices in the silence that follows. "And it ate right, too...delicious, pet. Mmmm..."
The doorbell sounds, and I hear the door creak as it opens, and feel the rush of warm air from inside. "Good evening, Mr. Brown, lovely to see You." It's a woman's voice, smooth and honeyed; as we enter, I hear a rustle of fabric that tells me she is not nude, and I feel exposed and helpless. Master guides me down a flight of steps, cool beneath my bare feet. At the foot of the stairs, I find soft carpet. I am led forward, then pulled down by the leash, so I kneel as I know He expects.
"You weren't kidding, Russell," continues the honeyed female voice, "she's perfect." Another set of hands cups my breasts. "May I?"
There's no audible answer, but the chain between my nipples is suddenly yanked, and I jump and squeal around the gag. Master pulls the leash back at the same time, so I am forced to sit erect, exposing my breasts and belly to the new player. "Let's move her to the table, Russ...I need to sample her before Dmitri comes back."
I recognize Master's touch as He pulls me to my feet, and follow the direction of the leash's pull. Soon, my hips meet a hard surface, and Master pulls my head down, so I'm bent over the table. He pushes my feet apart with His boots, and places a strong hand on the back of my neck. Other hands, soft, cool, and dry, begin to rub my ass cheeks. "I'm glad You got her started before You got here, Russ...very nice touch. We may need more, though." I hear the familiar whoosh of a cane being brandished, and feel my nipples harden in mingled fear and desire. Master's holding my head down, so I know the strokes won't be His.
There's no build-up, just wickedly sharp lines of pain, one after the next across my ass and thighs. I feel my tears soaking into the blindfold. Soft hands then spread my cheeks and labia. "Oh, so very wet, Russell!"
She works her dainty hand into a fist inside me, and rotates it at the wrist. The mingled pain and pleasure are almost too much already, but I am able to hold my orgasm. She slowly withdraws her hand; almost immediately, I feel her fingers enter my ass. Just as suddenly, I am empty, trembling on the table.
"Hello, Dmitri, good to see You."
"You as well, Russell. You've been well?"
"Not too bad, thanks. You?"
"Oh, yes, quite well. Let's see what we have here. Let it up, will You, Russell?"
Master's hand leaves my neck, and I am pulled to a standing position. My nipples are throbbing now, in counterpoint to the stinging of my ass and legs. My leash is pulled in a circle, and so, therefore, am I. "Oh, you do have her well leash-trained, don't you, Russell? Let's put her through her paces. Blindfolded and cuffed, no less."
Master chuckles. "Have at it, Dmitri. I think you'll be pleased."
"Let's start you at a crawl, girl." He pulls the leash so I've no choice but to get on all fours, and he walks me in a straight line. The cuffs make even that hard to follow. "There's a path, girl, marked by red tape. You can't see it, but each time you leave it, Miss Sara here has permission to whip you. Understand?"
