I knocked upon her door. A forbidden thing. It was mine to come when called, to attend my Mistress at her command without question or hesitation. It was not mine ever to presume. I was presuming.
I had with me a present. It was not much of a present as things go. I am not much of a knitter. I take forever to find the time to do it, and it takes me honestly about an hour to get into a good rhythm. I am also not great with the lighter yarns, I honestly like the heavier raw wool and warmer yarns.
I had knit for my Mistress what is honestly probably a little beyond my actual skill level. I saw the sweater pattern in a comment on a Japanese Anime I watch with my daughters. How to describe it, knit Japanese school girl sailor pullover in black yard with blood red roses.
That is her. She is a Lady. We are both women, but when I look at her I think Lady. My Lady in darkness, my Lady of Pain, my Lady of dark delights, my nightmare, my dream, my Mistress, my salvation. She is the rose at the heart of the forest of thorns that is my soul. I am a lot of things for a lot of people. Wife, mother, teacher, mentor, protector, sometimes the threat that keeps lesser predators at bay. For her I am either the wolf that paces at her feet or the bitch collared on my knees.
I knocked upon the door.
She answered, a santa hat upon her head, a cup of coffee that smelled of whisky in her hand, and one dark eyebrow arching up as her face turned down. That smile that had blossomed upon her lips in Christmas greeting fading to the hard cold line of a Mistress with a disobedient pet.
"Merry Christmas, My Lady" I offered as I handed her the present I had crafted.
She took it. Opened the door and stood aside.
"In and strip. You have broken a rule."
I hurried in and stripped. She hauled out the saw horse with padding over it that she sometimes used for my more severe punishments. The cushions bound to it, and leather restraints at the four feet meant that I could be fastened securely with my breasts hanging down, my pussy and ass exposed, my mouth available, and with enough security that My Lady could employ more energetic means of correction to me without fear of my falling.
She opened her present and made no comment beyond a soft "hmmm"
She bound me to the sawhorse, my face to her fireplace, seeing the festive holiday scene of tree and fire, the decorated mantle as I felt her fasten the cuffs around my wrists and ankles. She slit the magic wand into its holder at the base of the sawhorse, pressing it against my clit, and setting it on the mid range to begin to weaken my resistance and control.
Taking the time to tell me what was in store, she held the ball gag up in front of me.
"I really can't abide defiance, and will not stand for those who think they can top from the bottom. You are property, an animal, not a person to me. I will not have you rising above your place or making demands upon my precious time. I think you understand what is in store for you. If you wish to use your safe word, do it now, because in a moment I will take your ability to protest away, and will not check in again until I am finished with you. Understand, that if you use your safe word, we will have to have a long discussion when it pleases me about my boundaries."
Her voice was stern, and I nodded, opening my mouth to accept the ball gag she offered me.
Fastening it carefully behind my neck, she stroked my neck and back lovingly, and I groaned into the ball gag. The care she took in fastening the gag did not give lie to her words, she meant everything she said, but it showed that at her cruelest, she cared for me. She would hurt me, but not damage me. Not one hair on my head would she damage by loss of control, what she inflicted upon me was measured and delivered with mastery, with cruelty, with desire, and with utter enjoyment. She gloried in her power over me, and drank like the whiskey in her coffee the pleasure she tore from me, knowing my submission and orgasm proved her right to mastery and ownership of me.
taking nipple clamps, she held them before me. Christmas ornaments had been added, chains of jingle bells with heavy old fashioned ornaments dangled at the end. She stripped naked before me, glorying in my inability to look away. Playing with my nipples almost casually, she made them erect for her torture. She tightened the clamps on first my left breast, then my right. I felt the pain begin as the blood trapped in the nipples raised the ache. She flicked the ornaments with a riding crop and laughed as they jingled and I whimpered.
