Waiting

He stood in the doorway, looking at her. She was kneeling, facing the corner, thighs open, hands placed on her thigh, palms up. Her back was straight, her chin raised a bit, but without even looking, he knew her eyes were downcast. As they should be.

He smiled. He was going to have so much fun playing with her tonight. He was glad the first draft of the book was finished. He knew he’d neglected her a bit, and was glad that she could keep herself occupied. He appreciated her independence, but he knew that submissive girls needed to be played with often or they lost their shine.

He saw that his glass of water and cup of coffee were ready, and that she had prepared him two pieces of buttered toast, carefully cut in triangles, and two sugar cookies. Later, he would want protein, but not now.

He crossed the room to the trunk where they stored the toys, opened it, making sure that he made enough noise so she would know he was there. He looked at the array of instruments fondly. He wanted to keep it simple, so he selected the ruler, a wide leather strap that she loved, and the wooden paddle, which she did not love at all. He picked up the crop and made it whistle, slashing through the air. He knew she would hear that, and tremble, but he put it back in the trunk. That was not for tonight.

He selected a butt plug, the small/medium one that was purple. She didn’t much like any of the plugs but she had an affection for anything purple. Lubricant, because he didn’t want to harm her, didn’t want to punish her at all. But he did want her to feel herself “taken down a notch” as she described it sometimes. Sliding deep into submission.

Nipple clamps. He probably wouldn’t use them, but it was nice to have them on display. Along with the cuffs and blindfold, which he might or might not find a use for. The collar though he would definitely use. Not the dainty dress-up collar but the thick leather training collar.

He laid the toys out on the coffee table, then pulled the table over so it was close to his chair. He took a drink of his coffee, savoring the flavor with pleasure. He took his time eating a piece of toast, knowing that the longer she waited, the greater the anticipation would be. He laid out the yoga mat before him.

Finally, collar in hand, he approached her. Standing behind her, one booted leg on each side of her, he reached down and took her hair in one hand, pulling it up to the top of her head. “Hello,” he said. He held her hair with one hand, with the other he caressed one nipple. She made a little sound, half gasp, and “Nice,” he said.

“Put your hands up here,” he said, “Hold your hair out of the way.” She raised her arms, held her hair up, as he placed the heavy leather collar around her neck. Buckled it. Slid a finger under it, making sure it wasn’t too tight. “Or too loose,” he thought with a smile. He wanted her to feel contained.

With her arms raised, her breasts were lifted as well, nipples hardening with arousal. He brushed her nipples lightly with his fingertips, teasing them til she whimpered, arching her back as if asking for more. Smiling, he pinched them firmly, making her cry out. He stepped back then.

“Come,” he said, moving back to the chair. He settled himself comfortably, watching her stand awkwardly. Her hands were still on her head, holding her hair in place, and he loved watching her move toward him. He thought she was beautiful, approaching gracefully with chin up and eyes downcast. She stopped when she was within a foot or two of the chair, and waited for his command.

”Kneel,” he said. She bit her lip and he knew that she was struggling with this order. It was awkward for her to kneel with her hands on her head, he knew that. She would have to squat a bit clumsily and then move her knees to the ground while straining to keep her balance. He smiled watching her. He knew she would do it, and it delighted him to have the power to control her movements this way.

Shakily, she made it to her knees, rocked back on her heels, settling into the open position he preferred. “Good girl,” he said and she smiled. “You may put your hands behind behind your back.”

He let her wait another minute, sipping his coffee, eating a cookie.

Then he leaned forward. “You’re a good girl,” he said. “I appreciate your patience with my work. Or with me when I’m working. Sometimes, you are my friend and my partner, and I love those parts of you. But tonight, you’re my submissive girl, my pet, my toy. Tonight, I’m going to play with you. You know. I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to let you please me. I’m going to fuck you.” He grinned. “I’ll make you beg me to stop. I’ll make you beg me for more. Do you agree to this?”

She bit her lip, and that made him chuckle. He knew this was hard for her. “Yes, Sir,” she said, “I agree to this.”

He leaned forward. “Ask me for it,” he said.

She looked up then, directly into his eyes. “Damn it,” she sputtered, “You know I hate asking, why do you gotta do this??”

He laughed out loud at that. “Because it’s good for you, sub girl,” he said, taking a nipple in each hand, tugging gently. “Ask nicely,” he said, his grip on the nipples tightening. “I bet if I check your pussy, you’re already wet. You need to be taken down a notch, you need to remember that you love to obey me.”

She sighed. “Yes, Sir.“. He could feel the resistance slipping away. She looked at him, her eyes wide and it was a bit like looking into her heart. “Yes, Sir, please play with me in any of the ways that please you. I belong to you and it’s my pleasure to please you. Please, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he pinched both her nipples as hard as he could, making her cry out. “Good girl.”

mask, handcuffs, tasseled whip

6 thoughts on “Waiting

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.