The Leash
When I open the door she is exactly where I told her to be. Standing five feet from the door. And she is exactly as I told her to be. Naked. Wearing only her collar and holding the leash out to me. ‘Good girl’ I almost say but stop myself. I wouldn’t want to spoil her. Instead I give the slightest of smiles as I take the leash and lead her into the den. When I stop she just looks at me. She has forgotten, or pretends to, what she is supposed to do. Deer in the headlights, those big blue eyes searching mine for a clue. Dark hair and fair skin make her eyes stand out. Large and lively, they are the eyes of a curious child or playful kitten. When I look into them I know I am the one who is the slave. A jerk on the leash and a nod of my head and she remembers she is supposed to kneel, eyes down. Back arched and shoulders back as if presenting her breasts to me (which she is). She will have to be punished for forgetting…but not too severely. My little kitten is a pet in training and I am a fledgling master.
I have learned she will misbehave on purpose just so I will punish her. She likes it. But that’s ok, I like it too. But tonight she kneels in perfect form. I leave her there for a few minutes. I don’t have anything to do but she needs to practice being patient, and I like to look at her. The kneeling pose is one of my favorites. It appeals to me as a man and to whatever dominant nature I have. She is beautiful. Dark hair, fair skin, nipples hard enough to cut glass. And she has given herself to me.
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It happen unexpectedly. JC and I were having a few cold beers and cheese fries on our third real date. That’s her name, JC. Actually is Jaycee but back in junior high she had decided it would be cool to spell it ‘JC‘. It stuck. We had spent a lot of time talking since we first met at the art supply store, either online or text or phone. We discussed every topic under the sun ranging from our different styles of art to, well, the Sun. And sex. I don’t know why a beautiful woman telling me she would like to try being a submissive would stick in my mind but it did. That statement was always floating in my head like a leaf riding the wind. Swirling around in my peripheral vision, occasionally being the only thing I could see. That night, with the help of an abundance of alcohol, it wrapped itself around my brain and blocked all reasonable thought. It was now or never. I slipped out of the booth.
“Stand up.” Deer in headlights. “Stand UP.”
She had a puzzled look but stood up.
“Go to the bathroom and take off your panties.”
“Excuse me?” she said more as a statement than a question.
Using my sternest listen-to-me-I’m-serious voice I repeated my command. She look at me for a moment. A long tense moment, then reached for her pocket book and started for the bathroom.
“No, you don’t need your pocket book.”
“What am I supposed to do with my panties?”
“Fold them up in your hand and bring them to me.” When I saw she was about to object I added “Either that or before you sit down you can pull your skirt up to show me you took them off.”
She spun on her heel and quick marched to the bathroom. Whew, at least she had been wearing panties. That would have been awkward. Now that I had cleared the first hurdle I had one to go. When she returned her eyes were locked on mine as she handed me her panties. While returning her stare I told her “This time take your pocket book with you…and put your bra in it.”
JC was a statue. This was the second hurdle. Taking off her panties, not a big deal, she would probably do that on a dare. Panties and bra both would be her signing the contract, agreeing to the deal. I was resigned to win this staring contest if it took all night but she gave in quick and returned to the bathroom. I was strong and resolute, refusing to smell her panties until she was out of sight. Yellow bikinis with little white stripes.
I didn’t check her purse but I could see a glimpse of her bra in it. A shade of pink of some sort. So she was a mixer instead of a matcher. I knew I would have to work on that. After all, aren’t gifts more fun to open when they are nicely wrapped?
She looked at me differently while we ate. Sneaking peeks at my profile. Searching my eyes. Trying to figure out what I was thinking and wondering where this would go. I was doing the same thing. Well, I was thinking about that and sliding my hand up her thigh. I was a very interesting night. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.
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She is still kneeling on the floor and starting to fidget. I silently step in front of her. She takes of my shoes and socks. Unfastens and pulls off my pants and boxers. Then she starts licking my cock and balls until I am hard. This part she never forgets. This part she is very good at. She says the secret is her full sensual lips. I think the secret is she likes doing it. But I don’t really care why if you know what I mean.
“That’s enough for now little kitten. I am tired and I want to sit and watch some TV…with you on my lap.” She is grinning like a kid as I pull of my shirt and sit down in the recliner. “NO. Not like that” I say in a stern voice. She jumps up. Startled. Unsure of what to do. Her eyes grow even bigger when she is surprised. It’s so sweet I just want to eat her up. Later, I will. “Turn around. Sit with your back to my chest.” She sits and I guide her hips back until my cock is nestled between her cheeks. The ‘hot dog‘, we may do this again later too. “Your legs go on the outside of mine. Spread wide, just like that. Now tuck your arms down at your sides. Perfect. Now I can reach all the good places.” Are pets supposed to giggle?
Even the most mundane shows are ok when you have a breast in each hand. Feeling the soft skin. Caressing, kneading, tweaking the nipples. Gently pinching and pulling . I let one hand drift down her stomach, on down a thigh, and then back up. My fingers tracing oh so close as they pass by. The next time the tips of my fingers brush her petals and graze the wrinkled texture of her asshole. My fingers trace back and forth through her neatly trimmed hair. This is the simmering phase. Let the desire and anticipation build. JC ’accidentally’ wiggles her ass, rubbing against my hard cock. Another reason for her to be punished later, as if I really need a reason. This time my finger doesn’t just brush her, it slips in. I want to know how wet she is. Very. I spend a little time teasing her pearl. Both hands back on her breasts. I draw circles around her nipple with my wet finger. A little flavor for latter. I spend a lot of time playing with her breasts. They are like her thermostat, the longer I play the hotter she gets. JC starts squirming so I give both nipples a firm pinch. Being patient is her weak point. She gets perfectly still, I can’t even feel her breathe, but I keep the pressure on for an extra two or three minutes. I’ve noticed in a short time my punishments have gotten a little harder. One of the few things we discussed when starting this relationship was pain. She said she didn’t like it which was fine with me since I didn’t like making it. Either I have gotten more comfortable with giving it or I like it more than I thought. JC hasn’t complained or used our safe word ‘octopus‘ yet. Maybe she likes it more than she thought. I grab the leash close to her collar and pull it tight against her neck and whisper in her ear “time to go play little kitten.”