The phone rang. She ran to the phone to pick it up as fast as she could. She knew he did not like to be kept waiting. She had been expecting his call since the answering machine message earlier in the day, but that did not stop the jolt of sexual electricity that flared through her body. She picked up the phone on its second ring, hoping that she hadn’t taken too long.

“Hello?”

“Be ready.” and the phone went dead again. She gasped at the deep, authoritative sound of the voice at the other end. She had to fight to regain her composure.

“Be ready.” That was all he had said, but he had said enough. She knew what she was supposed to do. She was to be bathed and shaved and ready to present herself to him when he arrived. He was very specific about how she was to look and behave upon his arrival. And she knew well the consequences that she would incur if his wishes were not carried out precisely. The phone call also meant that his arrival was imminent. She had better hurry. She went through her preparations in her head. She had bathed and shaved, and her makeup was perfection – red lipstick, dramatic, evening look eye shadow and mascara, blush to her cheeks. Her long dishwater blonde hair was put in the ponytail he liked. She took one last look at her appearance in the full length mirror of the bedroom before heading downstairs to finish her preparations.

She wondered if he would punish her ... deep down she hoped so. She had dressed in her leather harness. That was the current “dress” for her. The leather straps framed her tits. Not large tits, only 34C, but ones he liked and ones that took pain ... the pain she loved. Other straps went between her legs rubbing against her pussy. A pussy that already felt warm and wet. Lastly she placed his favorite drink, a Jack Daniels and Coke mixed just the way he liked it, beside his chair. She hoped the ice in it would not be melted by the time he arrived. It would dilute his drink too much and he would not be pleased. Gauging his arrival was difficult, but being his pain slut was not meant to be easy.

Satisfied that she was as ready as she could be, she took her position ... kneeling facing the door approximately 10 feet from the door. He had put an inconspicuous mark of the floor where she was to kneel, her knees spread about 18 inches apart. She put her collar around her neck, placing the little heart charm directly in front. She fingered the charm for a moment, smiling. “Pet” he had engraved on the charm. That was her name. He had given her the charm on the first anniversary of the day he had collared her. Next, she put the handcuffs on one wrist, placed the blindfold over her eyes, clasped her hands behind her back and clicked the other wrist into the cuffs. Then she settled in to wait for him, trying to control her breathing and the mounting anticipation that was building inside her.

It seemed like ages, but was probably only a few minutes before she heard steps outside. The keys to the flat were in that secret place outside that only she and he knew. Although she was expecting him, there was always the fear, and anticipation maybe, that someone else ... a stranger ... might be there instead.

The outer door opened and then the inner. She breathed quickly ... her heart racing. She strained to smell him, to hear his breathing, to be sure it was him. Chance, her Cocker Spaniel, accepted whoever it was and that was a good sign, but not enough. She heard movement, a sound that might be his chair taking weight, the clink of a glass (his drink perhaps?) and then nothing.

She knew the suspense was intentional. Her Master was a virtuoso in the art of teasing. She loved it and hated it at the same time. She longed for his touch and approval, but she loved the torment too. And he knew it, he knew her so well. Master knew just how much teasing she could take. And he would always go just a little bit further. That what was so deliciously wicked about it! Suddenly something touched her shoulder. She knew! It was him, her Master. Only he could touch her that way, inside and out. Was it love she felt? She didn’t know. She suspected it might be more than love, something more intense, something deeper that joined their souls.

She felt his hot breath on her shoulder. She longed to feel his teeth, but instead he licked her and whispered in her ear, “How is my pain slut?” She knew it was a rhetorical question and did not answer. She felt his eyes inspect her. She hoped he was pleased. He tugged at her leather straps. She felt him pinch her nipple.

“ooooohhhhhhhh...” she moaned softly under her breath.

“Not tight enough,” he muttered unhappily. He pulled on the harness. The straps between her legs cut painfully into her pussy, but she remained quiet. He expected her to be quiet.

She heard him sit down and say “Three”. This was the game they played. She knew he wanted her to bend down and grasp her ankles and in doing so, show her ass and pussy to him. When he would say “One”, she knew to open her mouth. “Two” meant she was to display her pussy. He loved all three, she knew. In fact, he loved all of her, that was why he could affect her the way he did. He gave her pain because he knew she wanted it – needed it. It gave him no sexual pleasure, but he loved her and she loved the pain. At other times he was so gentle and close to her, in a way that she felt intuitively how he cared for her, how he loved her and how he could not really hurt her. He waited impatiently for her to follow his command and present herself. After a couple seconds of fruitless waiting, he reached out and landed a sharp swat of his hand across her exposed and ready tit. She yelped and fumbled into position quickly.

He smirked at her submission and ran his large, strong hand over her upturned ass. She mewled softly and wriggled her ass at his caress. “You know better than that.” he scolded her, as his fingers traced burning trails down her damp slit and over her firm, rounded ass cheeks. “Making me wait for you to present yourself is unacceptable and you need to be punished.”

In their relationship, hurt did not equal pain. In a D/s relationship such as theirs, the usual definitions of words break down and become an understanding between the two individuals involved at that point. The pain he imparted onto her was part of her needs and his gift to her. In return, he thrived on giving her pleasure. This symbiotic relationship they shared, with each supplying the other and satisfying their needs in return, meant that both were fulfilled. On the other hand, hurt was deeper ... hurt would be malicious, hurt would be deprivation of care and attention. And she knew he could never hurt her. He loved her far too much for that. And she loved him in return just as much.

She moaned softly and spread her legs a bit wider as she felt his touch at her sex. He spread her ass cheeks to reveal her glistening pink pussy and smiled at the sight of her pink slit, the lips plump and begging to be sucked on.

For a time, he teased her, his fingers toying with her wet slit and circling her throbbing clit. Her knees buckled slightly as he strummed her pleasure center. She moaned again, lustfully, as her mouth dropped open and she began to pant.

She heard him grumble. He smacked her right ass cheek hard. She gasped and bit her lip. Feeling the pleasure course through her, she wondered what he had in mind for her tonight. The possibilities made her pussy tingle.

“Stand up,” he said, withdrawing his hand from her sodden pussy. She whimpered her disappointment, but stood without a moments hesitation. Standing before him at attention, she waited for her next instruction.

“Turn around.”

“Remove the blindfold.”

For an instant she was blinded as the sun poured through the window, then she could see his face. She looked carefully, trying to see his intentions.

He knew the answer before he asked, but he thrived on hearing her answer and knew what it did for her. He asked, “Do you submit totally and absolutely to me?”

She struggled to find the words to speak. She knew what she would say, but the feelings they triggered were immensely powerful. Finally lifting her voice above a timid whisper she said, “Yes Master, I submit to you totally and absolutely. Use me as you wish, for I know that you love me and will only do what is best for me.”

After a moment of silence, he ordered her over his knee. “Wh-w-what?” her shaky voice stuttered.

“Over my knee,” he repeated with more force than before, making sure that she knew he was serious about this command.

Her soft doe-like eyes stared at him in disbelief before she reluctantly obeyed the order and laid her torso across his lap, her open and exposed pussy resting against his thighs.

He let his gaze wander down the length of her spine, her soft flesh smooth and spotted with small moles about her shoulders, the white tan lines accentuating her complexion with its striking contrast.

“Beautiful...” he whispered softly, his calloused fingers petting along her skin in long strokes, the pads of his fingertips grazing her back with tenderness.

His hand soon ran over the curve of her ass and he let his entire hand squeeze each globe, feeling the flesh bunch against his palm.

“But you’ve been a very bad girl, pet.” his fingers tensing with the feigned anger in his voice.

Without a hint of caution to the wind, he raised a hand and let it crash against her rear, her body jerking at the sudden sting of her behind.

“And now...” he grunted through clenched teeth, spanking her between his words, “you need...” he spanked her once more, with more force, “to be punished!”

As he finished his sentence, she was shivering with arousal, her pussy seeping so much fluid that he felt her dampness on his pant leg. His hand smacked her skin once more before waiting for her voice. When he didn’t hear her squeak out a number, he used his other hand to pull on her hair, pulling her head back far enough to stretch her neck, but not enough to hurt her.

“You know the rules,” he hissed in her ear, sinking his digits deeply into her canal.

She yelped and pushed her body onto his fingers as he dragged them through her pussy folds.

“How many?” he questioned her through gritted teeth, a fist full of hair pulling her head back further.

“F-fo-four!” she blurted out as tears of pleasurable pain gathered in her eyes, his fingers rubbing her g-spot furiously.

“Say again?!” he shouted at her.

“Four, Master! Master, there were four of them!” her tiny, high-strung voice called through the haze of feeling his thick fingers in her moist pussy.

Having a sufficient answer, he withdrew his fingers and began an assault on her bright pink ass.

“Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine!” she called with effort as her voice rose with the numbers, her butt rising to meet his hand sooner.

“Thirty!” pet gasped, with a tear rolling down her cheek before he let his hand soothingly rub her agitated skin.

As his huge hand rubbed in circles, she let her hips grind into his thigh in attempts to have the burning itch of her pussy satisfied.

“Sit still,” his cool voice commanded after a few minutes of rubbing her backside.

The faint glow of her red skin had died down now, although for her the burning was still running through her ass. He spread her thighs a bit as she lay draped over his lap and he admired the way she took her spanking. Yes, she was a good girl.

With her pussy fully exposed, he let his eyes feast upon her inviting hole, her juices coating her inner thighs. His cock throbbed and he was so tempted to stretch out and bathe his love’s now puffy labia with his spit.

Remembering the game however, he resisted the urge and instead he gave each cheek a couple more smacks of his hand. Pet dutifully counted through her short panting breaths and he rewarded her by rubbing the prints that he had just left behind. As his palm calmed her flesh, he gave into temptation and let his hand cup her shaved pussy. He stroked two fingers at a time through the folds of her aching pussy as even more of her pussy juice leaked onto her thighs, her hand unconsciously reaching up to grab hold of one of her ample tits. She pinched and pulled at her nipple, trying to climb ever higher to the orgasm she craved.

His fingers stroked faster and faster as her hips gyrated against his thigh and fingers, his hand practically covered with her natural honey. His other hand reached beneath her and began to rub her hardened clit with gusto, a new assault of slaps landing on the concentrated region.

She mewled and panted at his manipulation and began to lose her voice, her body unable to find the noise to show how his hands were pleasing her to her soul. He knew her body was so close to the edge and he watched as she got ever closer to the precipice. As she crested and was about to fall over the edge into the abyss, he stopped suddenly, withdrawing his hands despite her pleas.

“Oh god, Master! Oh please don’t stop! Please, please, please, please...” she whimpered like a little child.

He just smiled, helping her off his lap and stood up and kissed her forehead. His head dropped to her shoulder and he bit her. Hard enough to bring that feeling she craved, but not to break the skin or draw blood. He knew she would have another mark to wear with pride for a week or so. As her knees weakened and the waves of pleasure and desire engulfed her, she wondered how many more of his marks she would receive that day.

She trembled as he stood behind her, partly in anticipation of what was next for her, and partly in sweet fear. For she knew all too well that he would test her limits ... He never failed to take her right to the very edge, but that was what she needed.

“Down!” he said, and she instantly fell to her knees on the floor. He reached down and his hand grasped the end of the ponytail at the back of her neck, firmly but not harshly. He pulled her head up and back slightly as he said “Let’s go!” He walked her from the living room towards her bedroom, using her ponytail as a leash. She knew better than to speak – their communication was at a deeper level. As she entered, her eyes went around the room, checking for anything that might be out of place that she missed ... she knew he liked things neat and tidy. She had taken care ... checked three times and still she feared that something would be wrong ... she so wanted to please him in all she did.

On the dressing table the riding crop and flogger were laid on the left. The vibrator, dildo, and butt plugs were in the center and the blindfold and cuffs were to the right. The spreader bar was lying at the foot of the bed.

He let go of her hair and went to the dresser. He picked each item up in turn, seeing that the leather was waxed and the other things clean. He turned and smiled! He was pleased! Her heart lept in her chest. She knew now she would get what she craved.

He picked up the wrist cuffs from off the dresser and walked over to where she knelt. Obediently, she offered her wrists up in front of her. As he fastened the leather to each wrist, she felt her pulse quicken, her breath shorten and her desire rise. He linked them together and pulled her to her feet by the link. He stepped over to the dresser and returned with the blindfold. He fastened it around her head and the lights went out once more. His large arms lifted her to the bed. It was covered by a single simple sheet, the pillows and blankets having been removed and carefully put aside by her earlier. The bed’s construction was such that the head and foot boards had bars built into them to secure “things” to.

She lay there on the bed tingling in anticipation, trying to figure out what he was doing. She heard him working above her head. He was attaching a short rope and soon he lifted her arms up over her head and secured them to the bedposts at the head of the bed. Next he moved down the bed and began working at her feet ... fixing the spreader bar to her ankles, adjusting its length so that her legs were widespread, and then attaching that to the bed. She was like an inverted “Y”. She could move, but only a little and her pussy was naked and exposed to him ... her legs open ... her tits framed by the leather harness.

She waited, barely able to breathe. She could hear him moving, but was not sure what he was doing. In fact he had removed his shirt and tie and went to pick up the riding crop. He walked back to the bed. The first thing she felt was a light but sharp tap with the flat end on her right nipple. The sensation flared, causing her nipple to stand erect immediately and taking her breath from her. He tapped again and it was as though he tapped her pussy directly ... the connection was there! After about 10 taps of the crop, a rosy glow spread across her tit. He moved to the other nipple, repeating the treatment and closely watching her with each stroke.

With both tits ablaze now, he moved the crop between her splayed legs, making contact with her wet pussy lips. She moaned softly as the crop caressed her puffy lips before making its way between them. He slowly drew it up her slit and out ... trailing across her swollen, aching clit. She almost came as he teased her clit and then it was gone.

She smelled it next! Smelled her own pungent aroma. She opened her mouth in anticipation and was rewarded as the leather end of the crop coated with her own juices was put inside. She savored it ... pussy juice ... leather ... wax. She sucked on it greedily – she wanted to keep it, but he withdrew it and checked that it was clean.

The crop’s last task was to torment her clit. He looked at her supine body ... panting ... trembling with agonizing anticipation. Then he put an end to her waiting.

SMACK! The crop fell right across her clit. She arched her back as the pain/pleasure shot through her body, ripping the breath from her lungs on its way to her brain. Once there, she struggled for a moment to process it before she settled back onto the bed gasping and moaning loudly.