My fingertips, little points of pressure between your breasts, are all that it takes to push you against the wall and hold you there like a pin through your heart. You stand unbound but helpless as my eyes move up and down, all along the curves of your body. Something ignites, a small flickering tingle between your thighs, when I say “What a pretty girl you are. And all mine to play with.” There’s a moment and a few silent breaths between us before I order you to “Be a good little slut and undress.”

Your hands move before my words have registered in your mind, instinctively peeling away your shirt and rolling your jeans down your hips. You unhook your bra; letting it slide down your body until it drops to the floor. You know what’s coming; the pain I am going to inflict, the degrading acts I will make you perform for my pleasure, but still you cannot stop. You feel a deep atavistic need to hear me call you “Good girl.” Your thumbs hook into the hem of your panties and you hesitate, not consciously, you wouldn’t dare to defy my command in that way. But the realization that you will be naked, totally exposed to the implements of torture arrayed on the wall, sends a cold bolt of fear into your heart. “What’s the matter pretty girl?” I ask smiling like a wolf and knowing just what the matter is. “Are you going to be a defiant little brat and make me punish you? Because that might be fun too.” My hand, slow and gentle but menacing brushes the curve of your breast as the interrogation continues.

You shake your head and slide your panties down. Its not fear of pain that makes you obey, but the thought of my disapproval, of not being my good girl, that fills you with a cold and heavy dread. So you obediently roll your underwear slowly down your legs and reveal yourself to me knowing what I will do with your body. Right now, my thumb is gliding along your lower lip. It slides into your mouth as my other hand squeezes and gropes its way across your chest, finding all the spots that make you whimper and tremble.

With my thumb still probing the softness of your mouth I tighten my grip on your chin and lower you, inch by inch, to your knees. Its still wet with saliva when it brushes your ear as I stroke your hair. I smile, looking into your sparkling eyes and whisper “You are such a hauntingly beautiful little whore. I cannot wait to see you suffer.”

There’s another heavy pause as I take in the glory of your pathetic and overwhelming need to please; watching the little heaves of your breasts with each frightened breath, the way your fingers rest so delicately on your thighs as you kneel stripped bare before me. After a few seconds, I finally command you to “be a sweet little whore and fetch me the strap. On your hands and knees.”

My words work like magic. Your body starts crawling across the room, towards the toys at the opposite end, of its own volition. Humiliation burns on your cheeks but throbs in your pussy. You know I am watching, seeing your soaked cunt flash from between your thighs as you crawl, debasing yourself just to earn my praise. It only makes the lust and need and embarrassment run even deeper.

When you reach the far wall where the strap hangs, you find it suspended a few feet above the ground; making you get up onto your knees, showing off the length of your spine, the curve of your hips and the exquisite arc of your ass, to get it down. It takes a few clumsy tries for you to get the strap into your mouth, giving me ample time to admire your vulnerable body and plan your torment. Once you finally get it in and turn back to me, I only point to the bed and order you to “Bend over the mattress.” You know that pain is coming, but your addiction to praise makes you obey.

You can hear each of my footsteps as I approach. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of waiting, I stand above you. My hand runs up and down your thigh, fingers occasionally squeezing into your buttocks. “What a beautiful ass.” I give some of the praise you’ve debased yourself for. “What a sweet, compliant little whore.” I cast my shadow over you as I take the paddle from your mouth. A rush of pleasure flows up your spine. Making you quiver as my fingers graze the lips of your pussy. They linger; moving slowly up and down. You know what’s happening, I’m lowering your guard, using pleasure to make your body all the more vulnerable to my torment. But you have no power to resist, letting yourself sink into the pleasure that comes trickling out from between your thighs.

The leather of the strap cracks like lightning, and the pain of the first strike burns on your ass. I leave it to smoulder as I resume my teasing. Letting pleasure flow back into your brain and body until you are once again defenceless. Only then does the second blow fall, harder and hotter than the first. Its followed quickly by a third. The clear bright pain is enough to make you cry out. “Look at you, pretty girl.” You can hear the sadism in my voice as my fingers slide inside you. I Find just the right spot to make your legs shake and stroke it in a slow and gentle rhythm. You tremble as the bliss floods into you and give a complaining moan when my fingers pull away. I don’t even give you time to breathe before strikes four five six seven eight fall across your ass, just above your thighs. These don’t burn the way the others do. The pain is deeper: a smouldering throb that will last for days, reminding you who you belong to each time you sit. I don’t balance this with pleasure. I move between it and the higher parts of your ass, and spank until your skin glows pink then red. The blue and purple of bruises that will mark you as mine bloom on the lower part of your buttocks.

“Please sir.” You beg. “Please mercy. I can’t… I can’t take any more.”

I lay the paddle on the bed, just close enough that you can still feel the leather touching your skin. “You have been very obedient, haven’t you?” My hand slides slowly down your thigh, spreading your legs with a gentle touch.

“Yes. Yes, sir. I’ve been so good. I’ve done everything you told me. I’ve been such a good slut for you. I—”

Your words are cut off by a moan as I press my cock inside you. “You are not just a good girl. You are my good girl.” I whisper, pushing it deep. Making you take the full length into your eager body. My hand clamps onto the back of your neck, holding you in place as I fuck you. You twitch helpless and needy beneath me before starting to quiver; moaning and whimpering as the pleasure turns from a gentle stream to an irresistible torrent. I look down at you with a smile. “You’re such a sweet girl. A beautiful and obedient slut just for me to play with.” I push my thumb into your mouth once more as I give the praise that has bound you to my commands. “Now be a good girl and come for me.” The praise and the pleasure and the need are all too much. Every synapse in your body is flooded with bliss. Everything but pleasure is washed away as you fall into ecstasy; my good, perfect whore.