Little Treasure

"That's it, love, you know what to do" she said to Andrea as she knelt before the accouterment. The polished black leather of the cuffs shown bright in the flickering candlelight. Andrea clasped the buckles; three on each cuff. It wasn't the first time she had read these. But each time it lit a smolder, an ember inside her. Lovingly she traced her finger on the flowered inscription engraved into the sliver lip of each clasp.

Obedience.

Click.

Adoration.

Click.

Pleasure.

Click.

Kyrie sat on the bed in front of her. Black lace teddy far too small for her bust, threatening to escape out at the intake of breath. She looked at Andrea with a mix of gentleness and desire. She longed to touch Andrea's hair but knew it would disrupt the ritual. Kyrie knew how much her Good Girl loved this ritual.

But ostensively, it was the feel of safety that Andrea sensed and knew well. A feeling that had been nurtured in her. It excited and comforted her.

All four cuffs in place she presented herself before Kyrie. Andrea was standing naked before her mistress, smiling down at her as she sat  on the bed unmoving.

The silence held as Andrea tried not to fidget. She could feel Kyrie's face slowly sweeping her body. Her mistress was drawing out the ritual; building the excitement she felt growing in her. Nipples hardening of their own accord she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when Kyrie slowly reached out a collar so  she could liver her neck into its padded rest.

"Tell me the words" her Mistress said sweetly.

Andrea trembled with excitement. She loved this part of the ritual the most.

"Obedience, Mistress Kyrie"

Click.

"Adoration, Mistress Kyrie"

Click

"Pleasure, Mistress Kyrie"

There was a pause...

Her Mistreses voice came light but strong. "Say it again for me..."

Andrea knew this part of the ritual, too. It was the twist in the last clasp - always a surprise to her. It let her know what she might be in store for during the next several hours.

"Pleas-" Andrea was caught in a gasp as the tongue of the riding crop tapped her inner thigh urging it separate from its twin. It started to slip further past her thigh. The waxed handle inching it way up to her already soaking mound.

"Again, my Little Treasure. Say the words for me" Kyrie spoke sweetly to her

Andrea fought to control herself. Slowing her breath as her Mistress had taught her. She tried again.

"Pleasure, Mist-" she bit her lip to stifle the gasp. The solid haft found her, slipping easily between her lips. So very slowly it was sliding back and forth like a saw built of lust. Kissing her swollen clit on every slow stroke.

"Pleasure, Mistress Kyrie" came the forced whisper.

"Little Treasure, please convince me"

The riding crop handle was attending her with a slow circular pattern. On the left side of her clitoris gently pressing across to the right. Just hard enough to allow the tender flesh to be slowly pressed down and to spring back slightly in release. Then back. Then back again. For what seemed like an eternity.

"My Little Treasure" her Mistress said softly "we cannot continue until you say the words properly..."

Andrea felt herself getting wetter. She found herself on the tightrope between pleasure and oncoming release. She also knew the rules that she agreed to; after the ritual she could cum as much as she liked. It was encouraged, but not before. Not unless she wished to be denied.

The rod continued against her. All the while her Mistress held the collar in place. All that was needed was those three simple words.

Steady and measured she found herself again.

"Pleasure.... "

"Mistress...."

"Kyrie...."

A long pause followed, Andrea could scarcely breathe.

Click.

The haft left her body to return in an abrupt arc, further back, its leather half moon swatting her muscled behind firmly. Sharply. Deliciously.

Kyrie guided Andreas' jaw to her mouth gently, kissing her with tenderness. Smacking her tight behind again from between her legs. Kyrie bit Andrea's lip and swatted several more times, breaking rhythm and frequency so each one was a surprise of luscious pain and pleasure.

Kyrie drew Andrea into her lap, cradling her trembling body against her. She began stroking her hair with one hand, the other gently caressing the tiny bushed marks dotted across her perfect backside.

Kyrie slowly separated her thighs, spreading Andrea's in turn. The handle of the riding crop returned to Andrea's sodden mound, teasing the thick handle at the entrance.

"Raise your hips, Little Treasure"

Kyrie spoke with a sweet assurance of bliss to Andrea.

Andrea did as was bid. So charged internally, her sex pulsing at the gentlest touch of the thick haft about to enter her. It was turning slowly, deliciously. It was a test of will not to lower her hips. And it was achingly slow in its motion. But she did not realize it, so she remained standing as it rose.

Slowly it slipped inside her, finding her body ready to accept the haft. She was only distracted but the finger in the collars ring and Kyrie's lips on her tender nipples.

Blissful torture, grandeur agony. Andreas thighs trembled. Until, upon waiting an eternity inspiration cleared her mind. She uttered in pure desperation words to her Kyrie.

"Obedience, Adoration, Pleasure; my Mistress Kyrie"

Kyrie caught her eyes and ceased all movement. Staring into Andrea's eyes and smiling.

"Yes. Whatever my Little Treasure wants, my Little Treasure gets"

Kyrie bit Andrea's lower lip and lowered her onto the haft, watching wave after wave of pure gratification washed over her. Andrea tensed and climaxed at the handle slipping into her and finding her body eager to release.

Kyrie held her still in her arms with a gentleness, stroking her hair and kissing her neck gently. Twisting and arching the riding crop until Andrea could only pant and collapse; almost relieved for the pleasure to stop.