He was waiting for me when I came home from work that Friday. As I stepped through the door and saw the leather collar in his hands, my heart began to pound. Dropping my bag to the ground, I immediately went to my knees, casting my gaze down demurely. My hands trembled with excitement as I took the collar from him and fastened it snugly around my neck.
"You will wear that for the weekend," he instructed. "You will not take it off for any reason."
The entire weekend? We had done this before, but never for longer than a day. I suddenly remembered that we had a dinner date the next day with a friend and his girlfriend.
"But what abou-"
He seized my chin and forced my head up to look at him. "Are you contradicting me?" he asked in a dangerous voice.
My breath caught. "No, Sir."
"Good." He released me. "Take off your coat and meet me in the bedroom."
He left me, and I rushed to hang up my coat and follow him, knowing he wouldn't be pleased if I made him wait.
When I entered the bedroom, I discovered that he had an outfit laid out for me on the bed: a black corset with matching sheer black, lace topped stockings and garter belt, and long, black satin gloves. Panties were conspicuously missing.
He stood on the other side of the bed watching me, a length of silver chain in his hands. He gestured to the outfit.
"I don't need to tell you what to do, do I?" he said warningly.
"No, Sir." I bowed my head meekly and began removing my work clothes. I pulled on the stockings first, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from my master. Suddenly I felt the bed move and his hand circled around me, his fingers twisting my nipple. I froze, a stocking halfway up my leg.
"Keep going," he commanded. I finished pulling up the stocking as he kissed my neck, cupping my full breast and squeezing firmly. I moaned and he pulled away.
"Concentrate on what you're doing," he snapped. I nodded and reached for the gloves. He returned his attentions to my breasts, gliding his fingertips over the delicate skin, pulling and pinching my nipples gently, then not so gently. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, holding in my sighs. I was not used to holding back; in fact, I was normally quite vocal.
My master cleared his throat, and I realized that I had been sitting with my gloves on for several seconds. With a small gasp, I stood and hastily began fastening my garter belt.
He stood up behind me, running his fingers down my sides, then abruptly grabbed my hips and pulled me against him. His stiff erection pressed against me through his jeans. As I reached for the corset, I heard the distinctive sound of a zipper, and his bare cock slid across my rear, slipping down my crack, its wetness tingling my skin. I reflexively pressed back against it.
Crack!
The sharp slap on my right buttcheek made me squeak.
"You are taking far too long."
"I'm sorry, Sir," I gasped and quickly finished dressing. When I was done, he turned me and roughly pushed me face down onto the bed, bent over the edge. Three quick spanks made me jump.
"Now," he told me, "When I tell you to get dressed, you will do it quickly. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Sir." The mattress muffled my voice.
A gentle tug at my collar and a metallic click let me know he had attached the leash. He pulled backwards on the leash and I stood, following when he led me from the room. In the living room, he sat in his plush computer chair, and with a downward yank on the leash indicated I was to kneel in front of him. His erection still stood exposed, and I tried not to stare hungrily. My master never liked it when I admired without permission.
He wrapped the leash around one hand, keeping it taut, and with the other unfastened his pants the rest of the way, pushing them down a bit.
"Well?" he demanded. "Get to work."
I needed no further prompting. Taking it gently in one hand, I slowly dragged the tip of my tongue from the base of his shaft to the very tip, licking off the glistening wetness. Stroking my fingertips over the smooth skin around his penis, I smiled to myself as I realized he had shaved recently. My master liked to do little things to reward me for being a good slave. Flicking my tongue over the velvety skin at the tip, I cupped my hand around his balls, pulling gently. I slid his cock into my mouth, stroking it with my tongue and giving it a long suck.
One thing that still surprised me, and I was sure my master never fully realized, was just how much I enjoy sucking his dick. Not because I was giving him pleasure or because it was erotic, though those were definite pluses. I loved the taste and the feel of it hard and smooth, sliding over my tongue, filling my mouth. I loved licking it, stroking it with my fingers, swallowing as much of it as I could.
Lost in what I was doing, I let out a long moan of desire. A sharp jerk on my collar made me look up.
"I think you're forgetting yourself." My master frowned and pulled a pair of handcuffs from the desk. "Maybe this will help remind you. Put them on behind your back."
I obeyed, cinching them over my wrists, then leaned forward to slide my mouth over his dick again. It was a little more difficult without my hands, but soon he was breathing hard, groaning. I kept silent, though I wanted to moan and gasp, wanted to rake my fingernails down his chest. I pulled vainly at my cuffs.
He gripped my hair, moving my head back and forth.
A small cry escaped me, and he tugged on the leash, but kept up the pace, thrusting into my mouth.
I could feel wetness between my legs. I could tell he was close, and the anticipation excited me.
Suddenly he pushed me away and I sat back, slightly dazed. He stood, grabbing my hair again and forcing my head back. I barely had time to close my eyes before he exploded on my face. I licked the slippery goo as it slid down my cheeks and waited for directions.
I heard the chair creak as he stood and walked away. After a moment, he returned and tossed a tissue on my face.
"Clean yourself up," he told me as he unlatched the cuffs.
As I wiped my face the best I could with the one tissue, he sat back down at the computer to surf the web. I noticed that he had his pants back on. Once I was as clean as I was going to get without soap and water, I knelt next to him with my hands folded on my lap.
A few moments later, he glanced at me, then reached over to unhook my leash. "I want steak and potatoes for supper."
"Yes, Sir," I replied.
I stood to make my way to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of his satisfied grin out of the corner of my eye.
An hour later, I placed two plates on the table, both loaded with food artfully arranged and garnished. I returned to the living room and knelt at my master's side again. "Sir, your dinner is ready."
He turned and patted my head, then rose and headed for the dining room.
I followed in time to see him stop at the sight of the two plates.
He turned to me. "I don't recall saying you could eat at the table with me."
I flushed, my brain freezing. "I'm sorry, Sir, I... what should I..." He wouldn't let me go hungry, would he? Would he? No, of course he wouldn't.
"You will eat on the floor, where you belong," he told me.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I could eat. Wait, on the floor?!