A/N: I own nothing except my dirty little mind. All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.
I let a breath escape from my mouth, a traitorous moan riding along with it.
"That's what I thought," she said with a small laugh. "I take it you're still okay, my Pet?"
As the ending 's' of my words escaped, the flogging picked back up. She was timing her movements now, bringing them to my body faster, but not necessarily harder. She knew the increased speed with the plug was enough for me to adjust to for the moment. I was panting and gasping, losing my head deep down into the space I craved between our playtimes. I needed to find it, needed to go there – to let myself go completely and give in to her.
Mistress switched hands, swapping the gentle thud of the flogger for the stinging of the crop. She would run the flat side of the crop against one side of my ass, drag it to the edge of my body, then bring it back to the center with a smack.
I moaned, the only vocalization I was capable of.
She moved the crop and began to tap gently on my clit. My head shook side to side, hair falling down against my shoulders like water tumbling off a cliff, never stopping. I was moaning, careful to never utter words.
The slapping stopped and I thought for a moment about whining. She had worked into a rhythm and brought me almost over the edge. I would do anything for her now, say anything, give her whatever she wanted. Mistress had the ability to know my body and reactions almost better than I did and knew when she could test the limits; I loved her for caring and learning me in this way.
I heard those fucking heels on the floor again. Moving, where was she moving? It was so much harder to retain logical thought once I fell over the edge into subspace. Letting go meant letting go, feeling only, no more thinking, no more trying to figure it out, no more anticipation.
She moved from one spot to another and I had no clue what she was doing. I didn't care. I waited patiently for her. Obediently. She slipped her hand down to my pussy again and I groaned. I needed release, wanted it so badly. Her fingers rubbed up and down between my lips and a dildo pressed at my opening. My muscles tensed as I fought the urge to push back against it, to take it into my body with one swift movement. She would be torturously slow, Mistress, guiding it into me. She let me feel every centimeter as she moved it beyond my wet lips and sank it all of the way inside of me.
"Up on the bench, love, we've only just begun."
Mistress loves me like no other.
It was my favorite name she used for me; it not only reminded me of the way she loved me in these intense moments, it usually signaled we were going further into our game.
I crawled on my knees to the edge of the bench before standing, conscious of how lascivious the view would be from where she stood behind me. Without turning to look at her, I asked, "How would you like me, Mistress?" There were several possibilities on the spanking bench and I wasn't sure how she wanted me to position myself.
Her warmth was behind me again, each of her hands trailing an opposite direction on my body – one down to the apex of my pussy and one up to my breasts. She put her mouth to my ear, nipping and licking as her hands slid over up my body. When she reached my breasts, she cupped them, tugging my nipples for a moment before releasing them.
Cool metal slipped around my neck and I held in a smile as she fastened my collar around my neck.
My collar is polished sterling silver small link-type chain with a dangling heart charm; the charm is engraved with My Pet. I felt her fingertips against the back of my neck as she finished fastening it.
Normally Mistress and I wore rings signifying our roles – her says Mistress and mine says Pet. I know she is ready to play when the ring makes an appearance on the ring holder that rests on my dresser. I usually check a few times a day for my ring. If it takes me 'too long' to notice it, there's usually a half-pleasurable half-painful punishment once our time begins.
When we play under conditions that are familiar to us, easier playtimes, we don't use a collar. The collar typically comes out on days when Mistress knows I need help to stay in my subspace, or when she takes me to play at parties and doesn't want to share. The slipping on of my collar, along with the other signs I'd already gotten that this night was going to be more intense, was welcome.
"Lay down, my lovely Pet."
Names are one of the things Mistress loves the most. I'm usually her Pet, often her sweet, sometimes her love or lovely. Each time they sounded in my ears, I was reminded that I was safe with her. She took great pains to make me feel safe and loved. I never feared for my safety with her, something I could not say for some of my previous attempts to give the gift of my submission. My real name slipped off of her lips in a whisper during sweet love making in our bed often, but never within these four walls.
She tweaked my nipple once more before she dropped her hand and walked away. I could see her gathering up two pink leather cuffs and I knew what was coming next. I crawled onto the padded bench face down, my arms wrapped out and around the top of the bench, one leg on either side at the back. My knees were almost at the far edge of the rests built into the sides of the device, my lower body entirely exposed to her. Position Fifteen. There were several positions on the bench, but this was the one Mistress clearly wanted me to begin in. If she wanted me to move or adjust from here, she would let me know.
She was at my right wrist first, wrapping the cool leather around my skin. She buckled the restraint closed, then used a lock through the d-ring on the cuff and the ring on the bench to keep me in place. She repeated this for both wrists, leaving my ankles free, and soon I was locked into position. My heart rate increased – now we were at a stage of our night where I truly could not escape. When we first began playing, Mistress used rope and things that were easily cut or otherwise removed to gain my trust, but these were keyed padlocks; I was getting out by Mistress' hands or bolt cutters.
We did actually keep a pair of bolt cutters in the closet. We had a variety of first aid items in case they were ever needed – burn cream, band aids, anti-bacterial topical ointment, gauze, medical tape, eye rinse, medical scissors and a few other odds and ends, along with the bolt cutters.
We setup our dungeon together and it took several trips and playtimes to get it right, but the time and money was well spent. We had a 'bed' which was really a well padded table with d-rings placed strategically, a spanking bench, a padded wall rack, and some things still on our 'wish list'.
I began to think about the wish list items when the click of her heels reminded me to be in the moment. Even though the bench was narrow, it wasn't uncomfortable and I was just fine resting for longer periods of time on it, especially in the position I was in.
Mistress stood at the end of the bench, looking down at me from my ankles. I knew where she was from the count I kept of her steps once she was out of my sight, and the direction the sound came from. Her gaze might have been too much under other circumstances, but it felt like a welcome embrace in that moment. I knew my body wasn't perfect, but the look in her eyes as she had walked to the back of my body, roaming every inch of my exposed skin, made me feel like a piece of art on display.
I took in another deep breath, trying not to anticipate her next move but waiting for her to do something. Anything.
"Pet, I know you have a little more slack than that at your wrists. Scoot down more so I can play with you properly."
I moved my body lower without acknowledging her request verbally. Each time I shifted my weight, both the plug and the dildo shifted in my body, teasing me. As I felt the bench with my inner legs, gauging exactly where I was with the mental picture I had, I stopped when I knew I was where she wanted. Position Sixteen.
Mistress ran her hands over my ass, hooking one finger into the ring holding the plug and twisting. She turned it what felt like one full rotation, bringing it to rest at its original spot. I felt her warm, wet lips place a kiss on each side of my bottom and then the sting of her hand as she smacked. I moaned, my inner voice begging with my brain to keep my body still. More deep breaths.
Her hand was cold as it reached to touch my clit. She twisted the dildo and stroked it in and out a few times, eliciting a whimper.
Mistress giggled. "Ah, my Pet. I love to play with you. Are you ready to please your Mistress?"
"Always, Mistress," I breathed.
I heard her walking towards my head. I counted the steps again, listening to each foot as it fell against the cement.
There was a space in front of my head on the hump of the bench. She climbed up and sat in front of me, legs spread wide, one foot resting on each side of the bench. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but this wasn't about my wants or needs. I could smell her as she brought her body closer. My mouth watered in anticipation and when she steadied herself to her satisfaction, hands resting on her knees, she let out a deep breath.
"I'm ready for you my Pet. You may please me now."
I shifted my weight again and moved slightly up the bench to be closer to her, my lower half again resting on the bench and creating new friction for me. I nuzzled my nose into Mistress first and licked slowly up one side and down the other. She leaned back slightly and I could hear her breathing increase. Using her new angle to my advantage, I pointed my tongue and dipped into her quickly, my lips pressed against hers, sucking lightly as I withdrew my tongue. I could hear her soft whispers of pleasure already and felt her hand on the back of my head, pressing me into her harder.
This little sign of encouragement made me break out in goosebumps as my lower half throbbed.
I moved my tongue in a slow lick up between her folds, stopping once I was at her clit to swirl, kiss, and lick her. I brought her clit into my mouth and sucked it between my lips gently as I flicked it with my tongue. I let it slip back out through my teeth, knowing the gentle scraping sensation was one of her favorites. I placed open-mouth kisses all over and around her clit, licking up and back down her entire slit as her hand guided my mouth and directed my pressure, pace, and every movement. She wrapped both of her hands in my hair and I knew she was getting close to her release. Mistress pushed my head lower and I thrust my tongue into her, nuzzling her clit with my nose as she tugged softly on my hair.
"Yes, my sweet, yes..." she said, dragging out the last s, and I was pleased to be doing a good job. She tugged harder at my hair, her need clearly growing and I knew she was only a few flicks away from coming beneath my mouth. I tilted my head, tongue out and ready to caress her exactly as I knew she needed it. My tongue was flat against her clit, slowly rubbing circles with more pressure as I hummed into her. She pushed my face to her body harder, her grip on my hair growling slightly painful, as she began to come.
I could see her in my mind: head thrown back, beautiful blonde hair shaking back and forth, mouth slightly open, and eyes closed tightly. I had seen it enough in our vanilla life to know exactly how she looked as she came.
She cried out and I kept up my movements, tongue lapping at her clit, mouth wrapped around her to capture every last drop she would offer me. She caught her breath slowly and scratched my scalp lovingly before releasing my hair and moving off the bench.
Oh no. That tone means she's displeased.
"My delicious, naughty Pet. You don't think I missed your squirming just then, do you?"
Shit. Was I really squirming or was this part of her plan? Did I want to say yes, or no? Disagreeing would have far worse consequences, but was she toying with me or had I really moved? I had to run through the mental video footage of the last few moments to try and recall my movements. Sure enough, as I had hummed into her, my hips shifted and I changed the position of the objects invading my body.
I felt the crack of the paddle against my bottom; it wasn't kind. It was meant to hurt in every sense of the word. I'd been distracted, wondering if I really had moved, and hadn't noticed her walk to the closet and grab the wooden paddle.
"Pet, do you think I have all day for you to think about what you've done? I asked you a question and I expect an immediate fucking answer. Do you think I missed you squirming around for friction as I came?"
If pleasing Mistress was the highest of highs, displeasing her was the lowest of lows.
"I think I might need to punish you. How long have I been trying to train you now, Pet?"
My mind went completely and entirely blank, so thrown off by her question.
"I... I'm not sure, Mistress."
Another hard smack against my ass landed with authority.
Fuck me, that really hurts.
"You're not sure? Oh, my sweet. I am truly disappointed now."
"I'm sorry, Mistress, I truly am, I just can't think..."
Another resounding crack sounded through the room. She landed the paddle slightly softer that time, but right over the plug, causing it to shift deeper temporarily. I moaned, the pleasure and pain a confusing combination.
"Did I ask you a question, love?"
Ah, there it is. Love. Deep breaths.
I took a shuddering breath in an attempt to counteract the searing pain of the wood paddle against my behind.
"I think you might need a few more paddles. Perhaps one for each year we've been playing? Maybe that will spark some inspiration for you to remember how long it's been, my Pet. For each incorrect answer, you get an additional smack. If you guess correctly on the first try, I might even count the three I've already given you. How many paddles do you think you have left?"
Damn it, damn it, damn it. Fuck. This could be terrible. Let's see, I'm 29 now and I met Mistress when...
My train of thought was interrupted by another harsh paddle.
Mother fucker. I met her when I was 24. 24, fuck, the answer is 5.
"That's four, Pet. You're thinking about this awfully hard."
"Five, Mistress. For five years, you have allowed me the pleasure of being yours."
A tear rolled down my cheek at this – both the reality of the disappointment I'd caused as well as the radiating heat and pain covering my ass sank in.
"Good job, my Pet. One more and we're done and can move on."
As she landed the final blow, another tear dropped. This one fell quicker than the first, with more falling behind it. I was thankful for the warm up from earlier; five whacks with the wood paddle, the way Mistress delivered them, could be brutal. She'd clearly chosen to hold back slightly and I was so grateful. I would make sure to convey my appreciation in any way she would allow me.
The clicks against the floor alerted me to her steps, tears now flowing freely from my eyes as I tried to control my breathing. My forehead was resting against the bench and I could still smell her in front of me, taste her on my lips and in my mouth. Mistress' hands came to sweep my hair from where it was cascading around my face and pushed it to one side, away from her. She could see the tears not only flowing out of my eyes but the small puddle that had collected on the bench beneath me.
She kissed my cheek softly, then ran her fingers across my face where her lips had just been.
"Turn your head and look at me."
I did as she asked, even though I was ashamed and embarrassed. She'd requested one of the most basic pieces of information from me and I had failed to provide it to her quickly. I prayed she didn't interpret it as a lack of devotion or love on my part.
"My sweet Pet, don't cry. Hopefully we won't need the paddle again tonight, right?"
Her tone was soft and gentle, comforting, but also probing. There were times she knew I would provoke her. Particularly harsh weeks when I needed the release of crying, the release of emotion it would allow me. Those weeks, I would delay answers, move, squirm, make noise... almost do anything I could to ensure the punishment would be harsh and swift, illogical as it may seem. This was not one of those times, though, and I desperately needed her to know that. I softened my eyes as I looked at her, pleading.
"Yes, Mistress," I whispered, taking another deep breath.
The tears slowed as her fingers wove through my hair again and rubbed my scalp gently. I could see a little furrow in her brow as she looked down at me. She bent to kiss me and I moved my lips slowly against hers.
"Are you still okay, Pet?" she whispered against my lips.
"Yes, Mistress," I sighed as her hands began to lightly move across my body, seeming to ease the pain where I ached.