David had told me that someone would stop by to check on me that night, but that was all he said. It was a short conversation, as it often was when he was working out of town. He said that the person would carry one rose so I would know it was ok to open the door. He gave me the code word – obedience – adding only that I could trust this person and should do what he said.

It was a Saturday, and I had planned to clean up around the house and do some laundry, but I got caught up scrolling social media and then realized that I’d better go for a walk before it got too late.

I walked about three miles and was feeling pretty sweaty when I got home, so I showered. David had not told me anything about what to expect, so I dressed in comfortable clothes – shorts and a top. No makeup or shoes on yet when the doorbell rang.

I peeked out the window cautiously. It was a man, holding a briefcase in one hand and a rose, a red one that was just beginning to open, in the other hand. I smiled as I opened the door, and accepted the flower he handed me. His lips turned up a bit as he said, “Obedience.”

I opened the door wider, letting him in. He was tall, maybe 6 foot, with dark hair that was a little bit long and deep blue eyes. He was wearing jeans and a shirt with a button down collar, the sleeves rolled up a couple of turns. I thought that might be the sexiest outfit a man could wear. He looked quite comfortable and relaxed, as if he knew just how sexy he was, but didn’t need to make a big deal of it.

”Hello,” he said, sounding really friendly and nice. “I’m Calvin, and David sent me to check on you since he’s out of town this weekend. You must be Eva.”

“Yes,” I said, thinking what a lovely voice he had, deep and soothing. Like honey, or molasses, maybe. “Yes, nice to meet you, Calvin. Would you like something to drink? Water or tea?”

“Water, please,” he said. “I’ll have a seat here,” and he moved to the overstuffed chair in the living room, “while you serve me.”

The way he said that put me on high alert, and I knew he wasn’t going to ask me if I needed anything and leave. I wondered what David had set up for me here. “Ice?” I asked him.

“Yes, thank you, just a couple of cubes.”

Carefully, I let two cubes of ice drop into the glass and added water. I carried it to him with a coaster, setting it on the end table to his right. He nodded, “Thanks,” and drank while I watched.

I found myself biting my lip, hoping he was pleased, even while I chided myself for being ridiculous. He set the glass down and smiled again. He had a wonderful smile, and for a second I felt warm and relaxed.

Then he said, “Let us begin. Come stand in front of me.”

I stood in front of him, feeling very awkward and not sure what to do with my hands.

“Put your hands behind your back please, and stand with your feet a bit farther apart.”

I did as he directed and he nodded approval. I couldn’t hold back a smile, I felt so pleased at his approval.

“You are not to speak unless I ask you a question or tell you to. You may call me Sir Calvin, and I expect you to behave with as much respect as you would if David were here. Is that clear?”

I knew my eyes were wide and I caught my breath before I was able to say, “Yes, Sir Calvin.” He nodded again, lips turning up just a bit, more approval, and I was way too thrilled by it. I swear I felt my pussy twitch, and I knew if he touched me there, he would find I was wet.

“Did you get out and walk today? Or exercise?” he asked. I told him that I had walked and again I could see that he was pleased.

“Personal self care,” he said, “What have you eaten today?” I responded that I’d had cereal for breakfast and a ham sandwich for lunch, with chips. He asked about coffee – how many cups had I drunk, and what about water. I answered his questions as fully as I could and if he raised his eyebrows a bit when I said 3 cups of coffee, he didn’t say anything.

He had me come closer and put one foot on his knee so he could check my nail polish, which seemed to pass the test, and ran his hand over my legs, one after the other, to make sure they were smooth. “Very nice,” he said, and I smiled. I started to say ‘thank you,’ but remembered in time that I was not to speak unnecessarily.

He went on to say, “Is your pussy as smooth as your legs?” I smiled, and answered, “Yes, Sir Calvin,” and he nodded as he said, “Show me, please.”

I was taken by surprise and didn’t really want to, but he was so matter-of-fact and David had told me I should do what he said, and maybe a little bit I did want to, so I pulled down my shorts to my knees and then my panties. I felt silly standing there like that, so it was almost a relief when he said, “Oh, go ahead and drop them, that’s it, just step right out of them. Good girl. Now come here and put your foot up on my knee again, please. Yes, just like that.”

Obediently, I stepped out of shorts and panties, leaving them in a pile on the floor and moved closer again, raising my foot to rest it on his knee. He held my ankle firmly with one hand and with the other hand he stroked my pussy. I had gotten waxed just before the last time I saw David, just a week ago, so I was smooth and bare, and glad that I wasn’t going to be found lacking in this way.

“Very nice,” he said, “Open just a bit. Oh, very wet too, yes.” I had gasped as his fingers probed just a bit between the outer lips, and I was definitely quite wet and feeling very turned on.

He released my ankle, moved his knee a bit, and I put my foot down. “Turn,” he said, gesturing with one finger, and I did. It seemed odd to have my back to him, still wearing my top, which did not cover my ass, and naked from there down. “I’m going to check between your cheeks, make sure there’s no stray hair back here either. Feet apart, yes, a bit more. Now put your hands on your knees, there you go, good girl.”

With my hands on my knees, I was bent forward enough to give him easy access to the cleft between my ass cheeks, but he spread the cheeks wide with both hands, then probed the crack with one hand. “Very good,” he said. He had not penetrated with his fingers, not the front or the rear entrance either and I was not sure if I was relieved or disappointed.

“Shirt off,” he said cheerfully, “Let’s check the armpits.” It would have been silly to demur at taking my shirt off. With his hands on my hips, he turned me back to face him, and I started pulling the top off over my head. Just as I had both arms raised and was about to pull it the rest of the way off, he said, “Stop.”

Of course that left me exposed in just my bra, which was an underwire bra, silky and a bit stretchy. He leaned forward and pulled the bra cups down so they were under my breasts. In that position, my breasts were well lifted and my arms were out of the way. He pulled at each nipple, tugging and pinching until they were both hard and extended.

“Very responsive,” he said, with that note of approval that I had quickly grown to appreciate. “Does that affect your pussy? Can you feel it there?” And he tugged again, the left nipple, making me whimper.

Of course I could feel it, my pussy was throbbing in response, so, “Yes, Sir Calvin,” I said. My voice was muffled because my hands were still over my head, entangled in my shirt.

“Oh,” he said, “I’m sorry, go ahead and get the shirt off, good girl, yes. Now the bra, go ahead and get that off. Much better.”

I stood before him naked, not sure again what to do with my hands. I was going to put them behind my back, but he held out a hand and said “Give me your wrist.”

I did, with just a moments hesitation. I had not realized that he had opened his briefcase while I stood with the shirt hiding my eyes, but now he fastened a velvet cuff around the wrist I had offered them. Without a word, he released that hand and gestured that I should give him the other.

Once both hands were cuffed, he said, “Ankle, please.” Once again, I raised my foot to his knee, giving him access to my ankle. In this manner, both ankles were quickly cuffed.

“Lovely,” he said. “Master David must be very proud of you. I know that he cares very much about you. He knows that you need to practice submission. He tells me that you need to be inspected or you start feeling neglected. Is that right?”

I blushed, feeling even more exposed and a touch of shame, but it was true and I was really not able to lie standing there all naked and cuffed. “Yes, Sir Calvin,” I said, “that is what happens.”

He nodded, as if this made perfect sense. “Kneel, please,” he said. As I lowered myself to my knees, he said, “I think you’ll feel more comfortable kneeling at this point. Is that right?”

Again, I felt a rush of shame, and my mouth was dry, but I licked my lips and told the truth, “Yes, Sir Calvin, it does feel better.” Again, he nodded.

“Master David also told me that you need a good, hard maintenance spanking at least once a week. Would you agree with that?”

At that, I felt totally humiliated, but it was totally true. “Yes, Sir Calvin,” I said, and my voice chocked up a bit and tears pooled in my eyes.

Sir Calvin’s voice was gentle and kind. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, girl. Some people are just like that. Often it’s the most caring and loving among us who need the most discipline. I’m happy to be able to fill in for your master while he’s gone.”

My tears spilled over now, really tears of relief, but I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t supposed to speak, and I don’t know what I would have said anyhow.

But Sir Calvin went on, “Your master said that I might want to see if you still respond to nipple clamps and the butt plug too. He said that after a good hard spanking you love to use your mouth to please him and that I could require that of you. But I will ask for your consent to that first.”

He paused and without thinking, I said, “Yes, Sir, I’d be glad to!”

He laughed, “I didn’t tell you to speak, but I appreciate the enthusiasm and this time I’ll overlook it.” I blushed and just stopped myself from apologizing. “Master David also said that you like orgasms,” and that made me grin, “And he said it would be up to me if I let you have several or none at all. So we’ll wait and see on that.”

I shivered, orgasm denial was one of my least favorite things. I loved being teased and made to wait a bit or to earn it, but denial? No, thank you. And I was quite sure the choice would not be left to me.

“Up, girl,” he said, gesturing with one hand that I should stand. “I’m going to inspect your bedroom now. I assume you’ve done laundry and changed your sheets and all of that today, I just need to check that off the list.”

I felt my heart sink, and for a second imagined running away. I stood. This was not going to go well. I had a feeling there was punishment in my near future.