I looked up longingly at my house as the cab dumped me out in front. It had been a long fucking day. I had been gone much longer than I had wanted to, extra meetings, that stupid storm that clogged all the flights going through the midwest. I spent most of the time at the lounge writing up the report for the client and trying to put out some of the fires that one of the idiots we contracted with had managed to ignite. I counted it as lucky that I had been able to get home at all, and just one day late instead of two or three.
John was at work, he taught on Fridays until 5:30 at the university, he seemed to always get the crappy time slots but at least he was on his way to getting tenure. I lugged my suitcase up to our room. I have always loved the way we decorated it, a huge four poster bed with blue and white striped coverlets. There were pillows and chintz and a small sitting area around the hearth with chairs for reading and a settee. It is one of my favorite places in the house.
On the square footrest was a carefully placed sash. I felt my knees get wobbly.
We had plans this evening.
After a few mental calculations and the memory of our text exchange earlier, I realized that our schedules were clear and my ever thoughtful and oh-so detail oriented John had orchestrated this time for us to play. I was glad that the weather hadn't disrupted these plans even more. I looked down to see the text that popped up on my phone. "I'll be home shortly. Prepare."
I had texted him earlier telling him that I was almost home, that I needed to unwind. He knew I was looking straight at the strip of fabric on the padded square bench and he had already turned up the heat from his remote thermostat (damn that man loves his electronics).
I had to laugh at his forethought. But oh shit, I realized I didn't have that much time. I couldn't think too much, I just had to move. Which was precisely what he wanted - me on that jittery edge of nerves.
I dumped my clothes into the closet hamper, and quickly undressed, feeling grateful that I shaved earlier. I could feel my arousal start to ignite. I took a quick shower, not enough time to get my hair wet, just soap up and get the travel grime off. I toweled off, then sat down at my makeup chair. He likes the deep red purple lipstick that stains my lips and stays in place even when I suck him. I put it on carefully. There wasn't much time.
I walked over to the settee at the end of our bed. He had pulled it out so that when I was on it, he could see me from any angle. Naked, I picked up the strip of fabric and slowly put it over my eyes and tied it behind me.
Then I knelt on the padded bench, sitting on my knees, listening and getting more and more turned on.
It was longer than I expected, but strangely like no time at all. I could hear him unlock the door downstairs, then I could feel his presence before I heard the door opening and the step of his shoes. Just the sound of him made me long for him.
Despite the warmth of the room, my nipples were hard and yearning.
He chuckled slightly when we came into the room. "What do we have here? You look ravishing darling." His resonant bass of a voice put a shiver into my body. He walked over, lightly put his hand against my neck and kissed me. If you could call the way he pushed his mouth into mine - claiming and devouring it. I could feel myself moan into him. He pulled back and told me he had missed me.
"I missed you too", I said.
Then I heard the box open. The box we don't open very often. The box that comes out when I put the blindfold on. When I say yes to him. I could hear him rustling through it.
A ball gag went into my mouth. Not his normal way of doing things - this was different. I could feel him buckle it at the base of my neck. Then cuffs, normally those went on my wrists, but this time, he attached them to my elbows and linked them so that my arms were pulled back taut. He asked if it felt ok and I nodded. Still kneeling, I could feel the arch of my shoulders thrusting my tits forward. I felt exposed and vulnerable.
He started massaging my shoulders and I felt myself sink into him, God, it had been a long week, I needed this break, I needed something to tell me to get back into my body instead of the constant ongoing firefighting and fixing stupid problems that my programmers didn't get right the first time.
He walked away and I felt something flat and smooth glide against my skin. Fingers? No, the flat of a crop. Small little thing, so tiny and yet it managed to trace all along my body.
"Do you want to please me my dear?" John's deep voice said.
He knows I do. I nod. Yes, I do want to please him.
"Say it out loud."
"Yes, sir." I respond, mumbling around the gag in my mouth.
"Then I will correct your position dear. I want your body to be exposed for me, opened up. Will you do that for me?"
I nod again, yes, then correct myself by saying "Yes sir." into the gag. I think to myself, yes, yes, I will sink into a position that you want my body in. I can feel my pussy clenching.
He taps at the inside of my thigh, I widen my legs. He taps a bit more, I widen more.
He slides from the base of my spine, slowly up to the small hairs at the base of my neck. "Lengthen." John whispers. I feel my body reorganizing, straighter, more upright.
He makes cooing noises, clucking "Such a good girl" as the flap of the crop goes under my chin so that my head tilts back.
"And now I want to beat your tits my dear." He says as he leans down and kisses me against my ball gag. I have no choice but to let him lick at my red lips which are forced apart by the gag. I whimper. In my imagination, he smiles.
"Tsk tsk" he says after I have melted into him. "Back into position dear"
I open my legs, lengthen my spin, and arch my back with my head held high.
"Oh good girl" he croons, "You look just delicious like that"
His hand slides across my shoulders and along my spine, then down the other side along my breasts. He puts the keys into my hands behind my back and says, "If you need a safe word, just jingle those ok?"
"Now those lovely little tits need some marks after a long day of traveling, don't they sweetie? I'm going to stripe them and pull on them and play with them so that when I finally suck them and bite them, you'll give it all up and be soaking wet for me. And if you're very good and do all that I tell you to, perhaps I'll fuck you. Are you going to be a good girl for me?"
Fuck. His voice. Those words. I am transported into wanting. I love the forcefulness of his voice, John, the professor, the disciplinarian.
"Yes, sir" I moan into the gag.
Then I hear the slap of the crop against my left breast, the sound startles me. He starts slowly, tapping and slapping and making more noise than pain and I wriggle with the sensation. I love the way the blood starts to flow into my chest. My fingers are clenched around the keys in my hand and I adjust them so that they're easier to hold.
"You ok?" he asks.
"Yes sir" I nod from behind my gag. I can feel the drool on the side of my chin.
He speeds up the intensity, tapping and slapping with the flat of the leather. He lands a particularly biting blow on my right nipple. I make a noise and feel the lines of pain surge towards my cunt. God it feels good. I'm losing track of my brain.
