CNC WARNING

You were a bad girl and you needed punishing.

The trouble for you was that I was onto you, I knew all about you and your filthy little lusts and vices. I knew that punishment was just exactly what you craved.

I knew that there was nothing you hoped for more, as you stood before me with that look of sheepish apology on your face, than for me to bend you over the table, hitch up your skirt and spank your perfect ass, or to pinch those big sensitive nipples of yours hard until you begged my forgiveness.

And then, how would you have ever learned your lesson? What would have stopped you being a naughty girl every time I gave you an instruction? I would merely have encouraged your disobedience.

So, on that day, without a word, I turned my back on you and walked out of the house.

And for the next few days you led the loneliest of existences, watching TV on the sofa, forever with half an eye on the front door. Forever hoping to see me come in, all smiles and with a bottle of wine in my hand for us to share.

Instead, I came back once on the third night, but I went straight into our room, changed my clothes, grabbed some things from my bedside table and left again, before you had a chance to even talk to me.

You felt so hurt as the door slammed shut behind me that you ran to our room and threw yourself onto the bed, landing on top of my old discarded shirt which lay across the pillow.

Your head pressed up against the cotton and you took deep breaths, wanting to smell me, to feel me close to you in some way. You smelt my aftershave and the smoke and stale beer from the bars I had been drinking in, but there was something more. Burying your nose into the collar, you smelt perfume, the cheap perfume of some other woman.

In an instant, your feelings of guilt and loneliness drained away, replaced by a cold anger. You cursed me. You raged silently against me in your head. Fuck you, fuck you.

Determined to get me out of your head, to prove to yourself that you didn't need me for your kicks, you fired up your laptop and lay back on the bed. That night you must have watched hours of porn, the screen an endless parade of sweating, moaning couples and groups, screaming orgasm followed by screaming orgasm.

You worked your fingers against your clit and thrust desperately against yourself with your vibrator, but when, finally, you collapsed exhaustedly backwards, your energy spent, you knew that you were lying to yourself. A dull ache of emptiness washed over your whole being. You needed me. You needed my thick cock to move in you. You needed the way I made you feel when my body moved next to yours, the way I held you firmly and fucked you intensely, until every inch of you thundered with pleasure. You missed the attention I paid to your neck, your nipples, your belly, your thighs. You longed for the feeling as I built powerfully to orgasm and came deep and long inside you, then held you so tightly, my cock still held within your pussy walls. In that moment you knew nothing and nobody could satisfy you like I could.

You looked across at my side of the bed, the empty space, the unused pillow. Small tears began to form in the corners of your eyes and you blinked them shut and slowly, sadly, fell asleep.

"Wake up."

A hand shook your shoulder roughly.

"Wake up," came the voice again, loudly, firmly and inches from your face.

You came round into a confused darkness. Still a hand held your shoulder, shaking you, pulling you upright.

"Is that youl?" You asked into the blackness of the room, your eyes struggling to make out the dark form that loomed over you on the bed.

"Get up." The voice commanded, and this time you were awake enough to recognise it as mine.

"You're back!"

"Get up," and this time a second hand met your other shoulder and half-dragged you up from under the covers. I pushed you roughly forwards so your head nearly met your knees, and pulled both your arms back behind you.

The next thing you could feel was something smooth wrapping itself around your wrists, which I was holding tightly at the base of your spine. Some smooth fabric laced around both your wrists and then pulled tight, binding them together.

I put both arms around your still naked body and manhandled you upwards onto your feet. You staggered forward a couple of paces and then I was pushing you downwards, into the chair that sits in the corner of the bedroom. You felt dazed and your head span.

Suddenly a bedside lamp lit up the scene. You struggled to adjust to the light and only managed to focus in time to see me heading out to the door.

"Darling?" You implored.

I stopped and turned towards you. Thinking for a second. Then I took two big, fast strides over to you. Suddenly you felt very exposed, sat naked on a low chair, your arms restrained behind your back and me, fully clothed, towering over you, now just a foot away.

I leaned in so close that you could smell the whisky on my breath. I reached out a hand and held your jaw, forcing your head upwards so your eyes met mine.

My voice was cold and emotionless.

"It's time for your punishment."

And then, again, I turned my back on you and left the room.

You sat there. Minutes passed. Torn so suddenly from your warm bed sheets, you felt the slight chill in the room and your nipples began to harden.

Or perhaps, you started to wonder, it was not the cold. Already you could feel that intoxicating thrill rising in your body. You were scared, yes, confused, yes, but in your mind you replayed the sound of my final word.

"Punishment", "punishment", "punishment".

You heard again the steel in my voice, the tone of authority. Your imagination, always so wild, clicked into gear. The mixture of slight fear and huge sexual excitement, so intensely erotic to you, boiled within you. That deep, primordial urge to be controlled, to be treated roughly, to be used...

Sat there, alone in the middle of the night, in a silent house, you felt your pussy start to tingle, then pulsate, then ache. By instinct, you made to move your hand there, to feel your own hot wetness, to meet the demands of your swollen clit. But your hand met instant resistance, held firmly behind your back. You wriggled yourself around in the seat, trying to loosen my knot, but nothing gave and you banged your head back against the chair in frustration.

Still your imagination ran wild, filthy thoughts swimming before your eyes, your whole body so turned on. And, cruelly, unable to relieve yourself, unable to bring yourself that pleasure that every part of you craved, ached for, yearned for.

Perhaps at this moment, as all eternity seemed to pass, minutes feeling like hours, you understood. Here was your punishment.