I met Master at the front door. I was kneeling with a small array of implements in my hands: two whips and the riding crop.
I felt I was making something of a presumptuous gamble since he hadn't given me any instructions when he left, but I hoped he'd be pleased. I wore my leather collar and let my robe fall open.
I wasn't exactly "feeling it" yesterday morning. Not the beauty of submission, not sexiness, not peace or relaxation, only a combination of irritations. First it snowed three inches over night and I'm way beyond sick of that weather. Then the youngest child tells me he forgot to do his big project this weekend despite us reminding him to do his homework several times. So I was struggling to help him (he basically needs me standing over him constantly or he gets distracted by balloons, dogs, air, whatever - the ADHD poster child) and make breakfast at the same time.
Also I had cramps. Ick.
Master took the kids to school (after having to fix the front gate, which fell off its hinges), and I decided I'd just "fake it till I make it" because I really wanted to have a good morning alone with him, despite how it started out.
So that was how I ended up ready and kneeling at the front door. He came in. He looked very pleased, which made my heart do a little jump. He took the implements from me and told me when I hand him toys the handles should all be lined up evenly, not a
mish-mash pile the way I did it. He told me to put on a movie for us. When I stood up he smacked me with the crop as I was trying to walk away. I paused to wait for more, but he told me to hurry up and get the movie on. I'm always torn in those situations- stand still for more whacks? Or is he trying to urge me on faster to get to where I was going so I should keep going? Suddenly I was feeling it again, the pleasure of submission, the excitement of something impending.
We snuggled on the couch during an episode of Buffy Vampire Slayer (I've never watched the series, so being a Joss Whedon fan, I decided to try it out. Master is liking it better now than he did when it came out. That Buffy is HOT. Not to mention the young Lily from How I Met Your Mother).
He pinched my nipples and smacked them with the crop, but forbid from touching him until the show was over. Then he had me suck his cock for a good long time, interspersed with some spanking.
He told me to go get the cutting board/paddle.
He tied my arms behind me and bent me over the couch arm.
"Start at 100, and count down, slave. When you get to zero you can orgasm," he ordered.
"One hundred", I said. whack
"Ninety nine". whack
and so on.
At about 91, I was getting brain fuzzled and having a hard time coming up with the numbers, but he kept going until I got to 80, then he gave me an extra hard one and said "Zero!" I came right hard.
Then he picked up the whip.
"Keep counting where you left off" he said.
"Seventy nine". Slash.
"Seventy eight". Slash.
When I got to 60 or so he started rapid fire whipping with both the single tail and the dragon tail. I couldn't count them anymore, it was just too overwhelming.
He stopped and I told him he was going too fast for me to keep up. He asked me how was that his problem that I couldn't count, and pushed me to my knees in front of him as I apologized to him.
He began striking HARD with the crop and I squirmed a bit from side to side.
"Are you trying to avoid me?"
"Yes, Master", I admitted.
"You hold still when I'm beating you" he said firmly.
I stilled my mind. My body followed. More hard strikes on each side and damned if I didn't even flinch.
He pushed my head back until it was trapped up against the side of couch and fucked my face.
He asked if I was ready to have my ass fucked and of course I said yes. We went upstairs and I lay on the bed on my stomach.
He asked if I wanted lube and I said yes.
"Ahem" he reminded.
"Whatever you want, Master".
He fucked me good and hard. I screamed a lot. Good times.
Eventually he pulled out and came on my face.
Don't worry, a nice shower will take care of that. Soon he was rinsing off his cum with pee. Heh. Dirty, dirty girl, yes I am. Because I liked that too.
Later on, I asked him if I had pleased him. He told me yes, that I was a good slave.
He told me he'd be happy to be asked in Latin -"placetne tibi"
Have I been pleasing/Are you pleased?
His answer "Ite".
"It is so".
After a delightful lunch for three, we moved on to his bedroom. I stood in the center of the room, my hands behind my back, looking down, ...
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