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I fucked up.
I actually thought I could get away with it, which was very naïve. Nothing gets past him. Especially not when he can hear me moan his name on the other side of the door, quite literally announcing to him that I’m breaking his most important rule.
I touched myself and came without his permission.
In my defence, he had been away for days, and I was going a little crazy. He told me he wanted me on edge when he came back, that the things he planned for us were going to make the wait worth it. That only made my imagination run wild, what did he expect? It made it even harder to resist touching myself to thoughts of him, or what he was going to do to me.
Though, that was probably my sadistic Master’s plan.
And I didn’t plan on him coming home a day early, either, or quite literally running into his chest as I exited our bedroom after I finished.
He gripped my collar and purred into my ear, “Going somewhere?”
Now, an hour later, I’m not-so-eagerly waiting for him to decide what to do with me. I’m kneeling at his feet, heart beating erratically. My eyes are respectfully downcast, focusing on his pacing feet in front of me. His collar sits snugly around my neck, a reminder of who I belong to.
Especially since it’s all I’m wearing.
He’s wearing a delicious looking suit. He ditched the jacket when he came home, right before he caught me, and now he’s unbuttoned the top few buttons and rolled up his sleeves. The shirt fits tightly against his chest, showing off those arms I desperately want around me.
Suddenly, he stops, the toes of his shoes touching my knees. My heart skips a beat, and I can’t keep from nervously wringing my hands in my lap. My eyes are fixated on one of his shoelaces, pretending like it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen.
My Master’s large, calloused hand lightly grips my chin, tilting it up and up. My eyes widen as I catch a glimpse of his thick length, straining against his slacks, before I look into his eyes. He stares at me like he can read my thoughts, and at this point I’m convinced he can.
His lips quirk up into a small smile at my probably terrified expression. “You wanna tell me what you did?”
“I-“ His grip on my jaw tightens ever so slightly, making me falter.
“You?” he mockingly teases.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe when he releases me. “I didn’t mean to.”
A humourless chuckle leaves his lips. “I think you did.” His voice takes on a mocking tone. “Or did you accidentally moan my name when you came without permission?”
His hand finds my jaw again, gripping tightly. He lifts me up, so my thighs are flush with his calves, and my hands fly up to his thighs for stability. “Please,” I force out. “I’m sorry, Master. You were just away for so long and I couldn’t help myself.”
He tilts his head, looking down at me with a look of pity in his eyes, like I’m a very silly little thing and he feels bad that I can’t follow his simple instructions. It makes me feel so small at his feet, which is a feeling I don’t exactly hate either. “And why didn’t you ask for permission?” he asks like he already knows the answer.
And he does, doesn’t he? My eyes briefly leave his as I try to think of a good lie. His grip on my jaw tightens in warning, and I obediently look up at him again. He tilts his head down at me, urging me to respond. “I-“ I take a breath, bracing myself for the punishment that’s soon to follow. “I knew you’d say no.”
“Mmmm,” he hums. “Then why did you disobey me? Why did you touch yourself and come, knowing I wouldn’t give you permission?” He smiles again, clearly enjoying watching me squirm.
“I don’t know, Master,” I breathe out, desperately wanting him to release my jaw. My hands start pushing against his thighs, but he’s as still as a statue.
“Wrong answer, baby.”
“Fuck, I…” I rack my brain for what sort of answer he wants, coming up blank. “I couldn’t help it, Master,” I settle on, but it clearly doesn’t please him, since his grip stays impossibly firm.
“Because you’re a bad girl, aren’t you, baby?” he says, and my eyes drop in shame.
“Yes, Master.”
He gives my head a light shake, and I meet his gaze again. “Say it,” he demands.
“I’m a bad girl, Master,” I breathe out in desperation.
“Good girl,” he purrs, and finally releases me, causing me to fall on my heels, my hands flying back to support myself. “Get on the bed.”
I scramble to my feet, but before I can stand up I feel his foot pushing down on my lower back. I let out a yelp as I hit the ground. Master then leans down to my ear, growling in a firm tone, “Crawl.”
Shame heats my face as I obey, getting on my hands and knees and crawling the short distance to our bed. I can feel his eyes on my backside, where everything is on display. It’s humiliating, but I’d be a liar if I say I don’t feel heat rushing to between my legs, too.
The fact he can see my reaction to the humiliation and degradation makes me impossibly more turned on.
Finally, I reach the bed, and I crawl on top of it. When I reach the middle of the bed, I get back on my knees and face my Master, waiting for him to decide what comes next.
Slowly, torturously slowly, he gets into the bed, laying his back against the headboard behind me. I don’t dare turn around without permission, not wanting to make my ass redder than it likely already will be.
Though I can’t deny that the thought of making my punishment worse excites me.
But before I do something incredibly stupid, I feel Master’s forefinger grab the back of the collar, tugging me backwards. I gasp as I fall right into his chest, between his spread legs. I can feel him hard as a rock against my lower back, and it sends heat right down to my core.
His mouth comes down next to my ear. “Spread your legs,” he commands.
I obey, spreading them as far as they can. He hooks his ankles above mine, forcing my legs to stay apart. The open air hitting me between my legs reminds me how incredibly wet I’ve become. Soon, his right hand cups me and his left grabs at my breast. I gasp at the sudden sensation, but then I relax in his arms. I mean, if this is my punishment, I’d be a fool not to take it.
Master hums in my ear. “So wet for me already?”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
He chuckles. “I think you need a reminder of who’s in charge here. What’s my most important rule, baby?” His fingers pinch my clit and I gasp.
“Ah-“ I start. “To not touch myself without your permission, Master,” I scramble to get out. My hips involuntarily rise, seeking his touch.
His left hand suddenly pushes down on my stomach, and I let out a whimper. “No, no,” he tsks me. “You need to answer my questions first.” He gives me a slap between my legs, the wetness gathered there clearly audible, and I gasp. “Whose pussy is this, princess?”
“Yours!” I can’t think straight, all I can do is submit to him.
“That’s right, angel. And you know how I feel about things that belong to me, right?”
I let out a desperate moan as his left hand finds my breast again, rolling the peak between his thumbs. “Yes. God, yes.”
“Yes, what?” He pinches my nipple harshly.
“Yes, Master! Fuck, please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for. For him to stop, to continue? Or for him to give me release? My body isn’t mine anymore, it’s all his, and he’s manipulating it just like he wants. It’s addicting.
“Mhm,” he hums, leaning down to growl in my ear, “I don’t like when you touch what’s mine without permission. You know that, right?” He plunges a finger inside me, and I let out an unashamed moan.
“God, I’m sorry.”
“Shhh, baby, I know.” His finger starts moving in and out at a slow, torturous pace, while he rolls my nipple between his fingers. The sensations drive me crazy, and I begin grinding up against his hand. “You need a reminder, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master, please, please, please…” I beg him, not even caring how pathetic it makes me sound.
“You belong to me, do you understand?” I nod rapidly, and he adds a second finger. “Your pleasure is mine to give, no one else’s, not even yours.” I moan at his words. “When I say you can’t touch yourself, then you don’t fucking touch yourself.” His palm rubs against my clit and his grip on my breast becomes even tighter. “You wanna come, baby?”
“Please, Master,” I breathe out. I don’t know how long I can hold back at this point.
“Beg.”
“Fuck, please. Please make me come, I need it so bad.” When he doesn’t react, I keep going, humiliation heating my face. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
He lets out a chuckle that sends a shiver down my spine. “Negotiating now, are we?”
“No, no, no, I’m sorry. I’ll be good no matter what, I promise.”
He pulls his fingers out of me, and I briefly panic, thinking he’s not going to let me come, but then his fingers find my clit instead and he starts rubbing the sensitive bud. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?” I nod, desperate to please. “Come for me, baby.”
I don’t have to be asked twice. After a few seconds, I cry out as I come on his hand. His left hand holds me down as I buck and arch my back. He doesn’t stop rubbing my clit, even when my orgasm fades and I desperately try to push it off. “Oh god, it’s too much, please!” I cry out.
Finally, his fingers pull away, only to land on my lips. “Suck,” he commands, and I open my mouth. His fingers go to the back of my throat, and I eagerly suck myself off him. The taste is addicting, and a reminder of how wet and needy I am for him.
“There you go,” he coos. “Feels much better when I do it for you, doesn’t it?”
I let out a small chuckle. When he says it like that, it sounds so obvious. “Yes, Master.”
Suddenly, he gets up from behind me and walks over to the dresser drawer in the corner. I push up onto my elbows to see what he’s doing, my eyes widening when I see he’s pulling several items from the drawer with all our toys.
“Master?” I ask, cautiously.
He turns around to face me, though the way he’s holding the toys makes it hard to tell what they are. “Yes?”
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He lets out a humourless laugh. “Oh, we’re not done, yet, babygirl.”
My mouth goes dry when he drops his arms and gives me a clear view of what he holds in each hand. In one, he has an open-mouth gag. In the other, he has a bullet vibrator. “Oh,” I breathe, hesitation and excitement flowing through me all at once.
Slowly, he approaches me laying on the bed. “How you doing, baby?” he asks, and I tilt my head in confusion. “Colour?”
“Oh,” I say, realization dawning. “Green.”
He gives me a proud smile, which makes my body all warm. “Good. Open wide.”
I do as I’m told, and he fastens the gag around my head. The stretch is just this side of painful, which sends a zing of pleasure straight to my core.
“Spread your arms and legs to the corners of the bed,” he commands, and I obey. Then he fastens my limbs to the straps hanging from the legs of the bed, immobilizing me completely.
Despite my recent orgasm, I’ve become even more turned on. The way he commands my body, wrings orgasms from me. It all makes me yearn for more, for him.
His hand cups me between my legs and I buck off the bed in response, a gasp leaving my gaping mouth.
“Be quiet,” he demands sharply, before he stuffs three fingers into my mouth and hooks them into my jaw. His other hand keeps rubbing my mound, and my tongue swirls between his fingers.
“Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” he says, chuckling down at me. “Desperate for my cock in your little mouth?”
I nod rapidly, lapping at his fingers with more enthusiasm. I am desperate. I need him more than I need air, at this point.
Another moan escapes me when he plunges two fingers into my needy hole. He’s everywhere around me, and I can feel another orgasm approaching.
He keeps going like that, slowly finger-fucking me while I eagerly suck at his fingers. After a few minutes of this, he pulls away from both my holes and I let out a needy whimper in response.
“Patience,” he demands. I lay my head back in defeat, panting heavily. Drool has began building up at the corners of my mouth, further humiliating me. I try rubbing my thighs together for friction, but I’m stretched to the limit, completely at his mercy.
Then, the bullet vibrator from earlier finds its place between my legs. I’m soaked already, and the sudden vibration has me bucking off the bed in surprise. Moans and whimpers pour out of my mouth. “That’s it. Take it,” Master coos at me. He continues talking, and I can barely pick out his words through the fog in my head. “Since you think you’re in control of when you get to come, I’m going to remind you who’s in charge here by making you come over and over again.”
My eyes snap to his, wide with desire and nerves.
“And I won’t stop. Even when you’re begging for me to stop, I won’t. I’ll keep going until I’m sure you’ve learned that I own you, and even then, I’ll wring yet another orgasm from your limp body. And you’re going to be a good girl and take it for me, aren’t you?”
Hesitantly, I nod. Fuck. The desire to be good for him, and the desire to minimize my punishment clash with each other in my head. If he asked me now, I’d say I’ve learned my lesson, but I know he wouldn’t believe me. I have no idea when he’ll decide I’ve had enough, and that thought both terrifies me and turns me on.
I know I’ll be a mess by the end of this, but I nod again, this time with determination in my eyes. I’m going to take it for him.
“Good girl,” he purrs, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “Remember your signal to stop?”
I do. I demonstrate for him, rapidly clenching and unclenching both of my hands at once. His eyes follow the motion with rapt attention.
“Good. Are you ready, baby?”
I take a breath and nod.
The first orgasm hits within a minute.
The next takes longer to come, but my Master is nothing if not patient.
By the third, I’m already a mess, oversensitive as hell and begging him through my gag to stop. “What’s that baby? I can’t quite understand you,” he mocks, and I kick my head back in frustration.
I whimper and writhe in my bonds by the fourth.
And I let out a scream by the fifth.
Only then does he pull away, giving me a reprieve. I pant heavily, limbs shaking yet limp, with both tears and drool pouring off my face and onto the pillow I’m laying on.
“How are we, baby?”
It takes a lot of effort for me to raise my head to look at my Master where he stands with the soaked toy in his hand. I try speaking, but my aching jaw is still spread and immovable thanks to the gag, and I let out a small groan in frustration.
He walks up to me and gently brushes my hair away from my face. He then carefully unbuckles the gag from behind my head and I let out a relieved whimper when I can finally move my jaw and talk.
Master asks again, “You doing okay?”
My jaw is killing me, and it takes more effort than I’d like to admit to respond, “Yes, Master.”
“Do you think you can handle one more?”
The very thought of that makes me want to cry, but the need to please him overrides all logical thought.
Slowly, he leans down to whisper in my ear, “It’s okay if you can’t, but remember my promise. Even when you’ve learned your lesson, you still owe me one last orgasm.”
I nod, bracing myself for the answer I already know I’ll give. “I can take it.”
“Good girl,” he whispers into my ear. “That’s it. One more and we’re done, okay?”
“Yes, Master. I’m ready.”
The second those words leave my mouth, a sense of regret floods me, but I keep my lips shut in determination. Next, I hear the sound of the vibrator, and in the next moment I feel it on my clit. I cry out and writhe, my screams and begging no longer muffled or constrained.
“Oh, god. Master, please!” I cry.
I’m shaking all over, pulling at the restraints so hard I’m surprised they stay in place.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” he praises, and it makes the suffering all worth it.
After minutes of writhing and crying, I finally feel the final orgasm crashing over me. Unlike the first one, this one is barely anything, and the relief that the orgasms are finally over is much more noticeable.
The vibrator is finally shut off, and I let out several relieved pants and sobs.
Next, my limbs are released from their constraints, and then I’m pulled into my Master’s chest, quiet sobs falling from my lips.
“Shh, baby, shh.” His arms snake around my waist, pulling my back tighter against his chest. “You did so well for me, you know that?”
I nod and cling to his arms.
After a few minutes, he gets up and returns shortly with a rag to clean me up. The amount of care and love he showers me with after a scene like that overwhelms me, and I let a few happy tears roll down my cheeks.
He then returns to his previous position, spooning me, this time wearing nothing at all. The skin-on-skin contact both relaxes me and sends a shiver down my spine.
Then I ask, “Remember how you said you had something big planned for us when you came home? What was it?”
He chuckles, his breath tickling the nape of my neck.
For a minute, I don’t think he’s going to respond, but then, right before I fall into blissful sleep, I hear him say softly, “I guess you’ll have to find out tomorrow.”
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