I realize my mistake, not using her title. I try to correct it, to apologize, but I can see by the smile on her face that she's set now on making sure I don't soon forget my mistake. Unbuckling my knees, but keeping my wrists pinned to the back of my neck, she grabs my upper arms and helps me stand.
"You were doing so well, pet. But a slip like that cannot go unpunished. But don't worry. I don't think you'll make the same mistake again anytime soon, will you pet?"
"No Mistress." I can hear the embarrassment in my own voice. How could I have done something like that? Calling her by her title was one of the first things she trained me to do. But I forgot myself in my excitement. I would have to try harder in the future.
She sets me in the middle of the room, and taps one manicured finger against her lips, a contemplative look on her face as she tries to decide the best way to discipline me. I personally can think of a few very effective ways, but it isn't as if she needs my help. She's devilishly creative enough on her own.
Then her face brightens, and I know she's come up with something. Moving to a toggle switch on the wall, she lowers down one of the chains from the ceiling above me. She unclips the wrist cuffs from my neck and fastens them to the dangling chain, then moves back to the switch, and raises the chain till my arms are stretched high in the air, and my feet can barely stay flat on the carpet. She approaches me again and attaches one of the longer spreader bars to my ankles, so that now only the balls of my feet are making solid contact with the floor. She stands back, admiring her handy work, and nodding goes to the cabinet against the far wall. From it I can see her take a leather wrapped bit gag and a blindfold. Walking back over, she places the blindfold on me, taking care not to catch my hair in it, and then pauses.
"Before I gag you pet, have you anything to say?"
"I sincerely apologize for not making proper courtesy to you, Mistress. I will try harder."
"Dully noted, pet."
And then the gag is in my mouth, the taste of leather familiar and almost soothing as I feel the strap tighten around my head as she buckles it into place. For a few moments after, nothing happens, and I begin to worry that she's going to leave me like this, waiting, just to watch me squirm. But she prefers to make me squirm in other ways. I catch a whiff of the perfume she's wearing moments before I feel her hands on me, gently caressing my breasts, thumbs lightly brushing my hard, upturned nipples. Moaning softly into the gag, I try to push myself forward with my toes, to give myself to her hands, but I can't get enough contact with the floor. I hear a swish and a line of fire lights up across my ass as I hear her cluck her tongue, behind me now.
"You've been bad. Why do you think you deserve to be rewarded?"
Another swish and another line of fire, and this time her hand follows it, not hitting, but rubbing, seeming to push the burn farther into my skin. She strikes me three more times, each time pausing to rub it in with her hand. By the time she's done, my cheeks are burning, and must be a glowing shade of red, from the feel of it. Despite the pain, though, I can still feel my arousal growing, my pussy getting wetter. I feel her touch the end of the crop lightly against my mound, and I try desperately to push down against it, but she moves it with me, keeping it just so; keeping it so that there's maddening contact, but not any friction. Not that I can move very far anyway. My arms are pulled up so high that I can't even lower myself a fraction of an inch. I'm moaning more steadily now against the gag, trying to make her understand that I'm sorry, that I'll never be bad again. She ignores me, and changes to gently tapping the end of the crop against my throbbing clit, not enough to hurt, but enough to stimulate my already sensitive flesh. If she keeps this up much longer, I'm sure I'll go insane.
"Now pet, you were bad. Take your punishment like a good kitten. If you complain it will only get worse; you know that."
The tapping from the crop stops, and I almost cry from the loss of even that much contact. I can smell her perfume near me again, and I feel something being pressed up against my clit and strapped into place around my hips. With dawning horror I realize what it is. It's the remote control butterfly vibrator I got her for her birthday. I try to plead for mercy from behind the gag, sure that I'll go mad if she keeps stimulating me without giving any release. Her only response is a low laugh and the click noise of the dial on the remote being turned on. The sensation begins immediately, what feels like little fingers thrumming against my clit, driving me crazy. I twist in the restraints, knees going momentarily weak before I regain my bearings. I can feel tears of need starting to run down my face behind the blindfold, and I wish she would un-gag me just so that I could beg forgiveness from her. I hear another click, and can feel the vibrator rev up to its highest setting, and I swear I can see the vibrations behind the blindfold, waves of tingling color, washing over my clit, making me writhe. Then there are two clicks, and suddenly the sensation stops, and I'm left hanging; literally and figuratively. My breath is ragged in my ears, and I can hear myself whimpering pitifully into the leather of the gag. She un-straps the vibrator from me, and I feel one of her fingers probe my wetness as I feel her breath light on the side of my face.
"Now pet, I believe you've been properly disciplined for your transgression. That being said, I think you've suffered enough for the evening. Would you like to come now?"
I nod weakly, tears still streaming down my face, as I feel the finger in me begin to move, followed by another one pressed firmly against my clit, rubbing. Between that and the almost unbearable teasing I just went through, it doesn't take me long to come, screaming my release at the top of my lungs. By the time the convulsions in my pussy stop, it's only the arm restraints holding me up, my being far past the point of exhaustion and endurance. I hear the whir of the motor in the ceiling, and the chains from the ceiling slacken slightly so that my feet come all the way to the floor even with the spreader bar still on. She releases that, and then I feel one of her arms around my waist, holding me firmly, as the other reaches up to unhook my wrists from the ceiling chain. Taking me in her arms, she lowers me gently back to the soft carpet where I started the evening, and removes the cuffs from my wrists, kissing each one in turn as she does so. Lastly she removes the bit and the blindfold, offering me a glass of water to sip from as I sit in her lap and she slides the hair back from my face. She leans down and gently kisses me on the forehead, hugging me as she does so.
"Love you, pet."
"I love you too, Mistress."
