After somewhat of a hiatus from writing, this kind of came to me all at once while I was at my computer. It's rather short, but the stream of creativity was starting to wane, and I didn't want to force it. I expect Part II to be out sometime soon, if I feel like it, if I get to it. Hope you all like it.
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I was sitting in a big black leather chair, awaiting my punishment. Head held down like a dog with its tail between its legs. Similarly, I could feel the collar around my neck. I was ashamed. Ashamed, yet excited. I knew what lie ahead, what I deserved. Wonderful torment.
I could feel my cheeks burning and my eyes were fixated on my shoestrings when I felt him climb atop me on the chair. I was pinned rather securely by his weight. I dared a glance at his face and caught his devilish eyes with my ever-widening ones. His mouth was stern.
"This collar means you're to obey me, you know."
"Yes, sir." I replied, breathless.
"And I've noticed this pattern you have of stepping out of line."
I stole another glance. A hint of a smile was creeping at the corners of his mouth.
I bit my lip. The jig was up now, I thought.
"It's a fun game, my darling. You get naughty and I catch you. I know how you love to be tortured so."
He was right and wrong. I liked the bondage, the power exchange, the discipline, but torture? I wasn't so sure anymore.
I didn't say anything, but I didn't exactly have to.
He led me away by my collar. He had stuck one finger through it, grazing my throat in the process. Purposefully? I wondered...
The bed was black. Black sheets, black bedspread. Even the frame was black. It was a favorite color of his. I would often refer to him as The Man In Black, because of his dark wardrobe. The rope he used, however, was always scarlet.
I knew the drill. Remove the shoes, socks, pants, and shirt. I was always awarded some modesty, that usually got revoked later on if I mouthed off. I never will get used to watching what I say all the time.
I climbed atop the bed. It was rather high off the ground, even for my 5'8" frame.
The bed felt cold against my skin, which only heightened the nervous excitement somehow.
He was readying the rope. The first few times, I couldn't get over the rope marks left the next day, but I'd started to like them. Little reminders, he called them.
I laid down, arms outstretched as far as they'd go, legs the same.
I closed my eyes as he held each limb to bind it.
"There." he said, proudly.
I opened one eye, tentatively, feeling the creep of vulnerability spread across my body. My breathing changed, my heartbeat quickened.
A smile caught his mouth that sent a chill of fear down my spine.
He squeezed one of my feet as he asked "Now, isn't this what you wanted?"
I jumped at the sudden touch of his hand, hoping he hadn't noticed.
"Yes, sir." was all I could muster to say.
He straddled my waist and brushed the hair out of my face. I looked away.
I felt a single finger at the crook of my elbow. And it started gliding.
I was shaking already knowing what was to come and as soon as I thought I would let out the first squeak of the night, it stopped.
Another finger repeated the journey on my other arm, again stopping short.
I was afraid if he kept this tortuous tease up, I would be spent before anything even began.
After about the tenth time, I felt almost at the brink of tears, when one of the fingers stopped right in my exposed underarm.
I gasped, and opened my eyes wide for the first time in what felt like hours to see that same terrifying grin.
I knew what came next, but had no time to prepare myself.
His fingers ran across each armpit, slowly at first then picking up speed.
A scream escaped my lips. It surprised me. I certainly didn't think I was that sensitive.
He scolded me.
"No screaming, or I'm taking what little you have on... off."
I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat.
"Yes, sir."
He continued what he was doing and my laughter seemed to ricochet off the walls. It didn't stop. My stomach was aching, burning from the rapid-fire giggles.
"My stomach hurts!" I tried to say, but the laughter kept interrupting.
"So?" He replied.
I started to cough and he stopped shortly thereafter to let me catch my breath.
My voice was starting to fade already.
He wiped the sweat from my forehead and I fought to keep my trembling lip still.
Until he kissed it.
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I was sitting in a big black leather chair, awaiting my punishment. Head held down like a dog with its tail between its legs. Similarly, I could feel the collar around my neck. I was ashamed. Ashamed, yet excited. I knew what lie ahead, what I deserved. Wonderful torment.
I could feel my cheeks burning and my eyes were fixated on my shoestrings when I felt him climb atop me on the chair. I was pinned rather securely by his weight. I dared a glance at his face and caught his devilish eyes with my ever-widening ones. His mouth was stern.
"This collar means you're to obey me, you know."
"Yes, sir." I replied, breathless.
"And I've noticed this pattern you have of stepping out of line."
I stole another glance. A hint of a smile was creeping at the corners of his mouth.
I bit my lip. The jig was up now, I thought.
"It's a fun game, my darling. You get naughty and I catch you. I know how you love to be tortured so."
He was right and wrong. I liked the bondage, the power exchange, the discipline, but torture? I wasn't so sure anymore.
I didn't say anything, but I didn't exactly have to.
He led me away by my collar. He had stuck one finger through it, grazing my throat in the process. Purposefully? I wondered...
The bed was black. Black sheets, black bedspread. Even the frame was black. It was a favorite color of his. I would often refer to him as The Man In Black, because of his dark wardrobe. The rope he used, however, was always scarlet.
I knew the drill. Remove the shoes, socks, pants, and shirt. I was always awarded some modesty, that usually got revoked later on if I mouthed off. I never will get used to watching what I say all the time.
I climbed atop the bed. It was rather high off the ground, even for my 5'8" frame.
The bed felt cold against my skin, which only heightened the nervous excitement somehow.
He was readying the rope. The first few times, I couldn't get over the rope marks left the next day, but I'd started to like them. Little reminders, he called them.
I laid down, arms outstretched as far as they'd go, legs the same.
I closed my eyes as he held each limb to bind it.
"There." he said, proudly.
I opened one eye, tentatively, feeling the creep of vulnerability spread across my body. My breathing changed, my heartbeat quickened.
A smile caught his mouth that sent a chill of fear down my spine.
He squeezed one of my feet as he asked "Now, isn't this what you wanted?"
I jumped at the sudden touch of his hand, hoping he hadn't noticed.
"Yes, sir." was all I could muster to say.
He straddled my waist and brushed the hair out of my face. I looked away.
I felt a single finger at the crook of my elbow. And it started gliding.
I was shaking already knowing what was to come and as soon as I thought I would let out the first squeak of the night, it stopped.
Another finger repeated the journey on my other arm, again stopping short.
I was afraid if he kept this tortuous tease up, I would be spent before anything even began.
After about the tenth time, I felt almost at the brink of tears, when one of the fingers stopped right in my exposed underarm.
I gasped, and opened my eyes wide for the first time in what felt like hours to see that same terrifying grin.
I knew what came next, but had no time to prepare myself.
His fingers ran across each armpit, slowly at first then picking up speed.
A scream escaped my lips. It surprised me. I certainly didn't think I was that sensitive.
He scolded me.
"No screaming, or I'm taking what little you have on... off."
I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat.
"Yes, sir."
He continued what he was doing and my laughter seemed to ricochet off the walls. It didn't stop. My stomach was aching, burning from the rapid-fire giggles.
"My stomach hurts!" I tried to say, but the laughter kept interrupting.
"So?" He replied.
I started to cough and he stopped shortly thereafter to let me catch my breath.
My voice was starting to fade already.
He wiped the sweat from my forehead and I fought to keep my trembling lip still.
Until he kissed it.