He controlled the pace completely, holding her still on his lap, his hands on her hips. He began to move his hips, impaling her more deeply on his cock. She was overwhelmed with sensation.

“Pinch your nipples,” he said.

She hesitated, but just for a moment. Then she put a hand to each breast. She began squeezing gently, but, “Hard,” he said, still thrusting deep inside her, “Pinch them hard, or I will.”

Embarrassed but obedient, she pinched them hard enough that she whimpered. “Again,” he said, and she thought she might come like this after all.

But he began to come instead, crying out with pleasure.

She collapsed onto him, feeling almost as relieved as if she had climaxed herself. He cuddled her close against him, then let her shift her body so she could straighten out her legs. He murmured gently in her ear, telling her she was a good girl, and that he was pleased with her.

She was caught somewhere between full arousal and contentment, the fierce need to orgasm receding a bit. A deep sense of happiness welled up in her. It was almost the same sensation as when you’re about to cry, so she wasn’t surprised when she released that tears were running down her face.

The tears were almost a form of release – not the orgasm she had longed for, but still a release. He licked a tear from her cheek. “Sad?”

She shook her head “Not at all, Sir. Happy tears.”

And he nodded as if that were perfectly normal and to be expected. “Bathroom?” he asked and she nodded without thinking. Then she remembered and hesitated. He felt her body stiffen and knew she was thinking about the new punishment he had devised.

He smiled when she said, “Yes, Sir, may I please have permission to touch myself?”

He chuckled, “Oh, hell, no, baby. I wouldn’t expect permission to touch yourself for at least the rest of the weekend.” He let that sink in a moment, then nudged her to stand. Taking her by the hand, just as he had before, he led her to the toilet.

It seemed both surreal and oddly familiar to her as she went through the routine for the second time. Peeing while he watched, having him dry her, then directing her to put her leg up on the closed toilet seat while he used a wipe to clean her more thoroughly, front and back.

He peed then, but turned her away from him while he did. She noticed that she felt funny about that, as if it were a rejection in some way. Then she realized that it was another reminder of her place in this dynamic; he could choose whether she would watch him in the bathroom or not, while that choice was not hers to make.

The thought sent shivers through her, it seemed so simple and yet profoundly submissive. But the shiver reminded her that her pussy was wet and happy and clenching as if longing for something to fill it.

He allowed her to wash his hands when he had finished, and she did it with pleasure and a new awareness of how fully she was willing to submit.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She smiled, “Yes, Sir. Shall I serve our snacks?”

To her surprise, he shook his head. “No, he said, I want you to arrange some cushions and the blanket on the floor by my chair. Make sure to get whatever you need to be comfortable sitting on the floor for a while. Then present yourself for me while I get the food.”

She blushed at these directions, even as she said, “Yes, Sir,” and hurried to obey him.

She had done this before, she knew exactly what she needed. Yoga cushion, some big cushions to support her on the floor, and a mat to kneel on. She laid one blanket on the floor, but brought a second to wrap around herself if she got cold. Then she knelt with her back to the door where he would enter.

With a sigh, she lowered her torso to the floor, burying her face in her arms, raising her ass, opening her thighs, offering him a clear view of her most intimate parts when he walked in.

She felt a bit anxious for a minute, but then she began to wonder if the marks he had left on her were still very visible or if they had started to fade. She wondered if he would touch her, and thought that she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to or not. She was so tightly poised on the edge of cumming.

But then she remembered that none of that was her problem and she felt her mind grow quiet. And she waited.