Yes, it was my fault. I was in a hurry. I already had my skirt and blouse ironed for work and didn’t have time to find something else to wear (not that it would have matter! The problem was still the same.). I should have done some laundry last night and didn’t. It was that I was too tired (which would have still been met with punishment, but not nearly as harsh), I just forgot. I didn’t think of my fall rules at all. Not once. I grabbed the only pair of clean tights I had – one that had been shoved all the way to the back of the drawer, pulled them on, and went to work. It wasn’t until lunch that I remembered the rule I had agreed too. Only tights or leggings that are crotchless. Crap! Yes, I could have rushed home after work and changed before Mister got there, but where’s the honest (and fun) in that?? So, I sent him a text and admitted my guilt. His return text was quick and to the point. Be naked and face down on the bed when he got home. I gulped. Usually, he reserves punishments for after dinner, but apparently, he wanted to correct me immediately. This wasn’t going to be good. I worried and fretted all afternoon, which he knew I would. Not surprisingly, by the time I got home and stripped out of my work clothes, the crotch of my tights was dripping wet. I folded my clothes neatly and lay on the bed – for an hour! Finally, I heard the door to our bedroom open. He said nothing, which made me even more nervous! Then he took my wrists and tied them to the headboard using my tights as binders. I so wanted to beg, to talk, to ask forgiveness, but Mister doesn’t appreciate unsolicited conversation during a well deserved punishment. Then, I heard the tell tale sound of his belt sliding from his trousers. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing what was to come. Twenty times his soft leather belt came down on my ass and upper thighs. By the time he finished, I was a wet, soggy mess – all over my body! Then, he used his knife to cut me free of the headboard but kept my wrists bound with the ruined tights. He kissed me soundly, praised me for being honest and taking my licks, then told me get dinner together – with my wrists bound! Luckily, he’s a simple man, so a cold dinner of cheese, bread, and cold cuts suited him just fine. He sat down to eat, but told me to kneel. I was to worship his cock while he ate. Only when he came would I be allowed to eat as well. I lowered my head, a smile on face. I wasn’t all that hungry – for food – anyway, but I was always more than happy to have his cock in my mouth! By the time he came, my jaw was aching almost as much as my ass. He helped me stand, then insisted I sit on a hard wooden chair while I ate my dinner. After a quiet evening of watching a bit of television – I was still not allowed clothing and my wrists still bound, we went to bed. Again, he had me lay on my stomach, my hips raised on two pillows. He entered me and I began to tremble. He laughed, saying how responsive I was, how proud he was of me. That’s all it took. His voice. I came, gasping and crying from the sheer joy of it. He used his hands to slap my already hurting ass as he fucked me, both of us coming again.
This morning, you can bet I’m dressed appropriately!
My dominant is also my boss. Not an arrangement that everyone would enjoy, but it works for us. For the record, I was his submissive before I became his PA. Also, it was at MY suggestion that I become his PA, not his. It was also at my insistence that our personal relationship be carried over to our working one. About 85% of the time, we are very professional at work. After all – it’s work! However, I NEVER wear panties and I’m also more than pleased to switch into the role of sex kitten rather than efficient assistant at any time. Today was one of those times. Mr. Birchly (We use formal language at work as well) called me into his office. He was interviewing a new writer – Mr. Birchly is a literary agent. This particular author wrote erotica and claimed that he was a Dom with over 20 years of experience. Mr. Birchly agreed to take him on as client if and only if he was able to prove his experience. I was to be “loaned” to Mr. Fender for the next hour so that he could prove his mastery. Only then would Mr. Brichly agree to read his book. Naturally, I agreed. Within minutes, Mr. Fender had me stripped and bent over an office chair. He bound my wrists, knees and ankles, effectively immobilizing me. It was his voice. Quiet, calm, yet expecting obedience. At his very first command – to remove my clothing, I dropped my eyes and felt myself begin to go into sub-mind. He continued to talk to me, praising me, speaking gently, touching me. Once he had me bound to his satisfaction, He stood in front of me and unzipped his trousers. Without hesitation, I opened my mouth. I WANTED to please this man! Then, he casually invited Mr. Birchly to take me from behind. I moaned, on the verge of orgasm. Then, Mr. Fender pulled my hair so that I looked up at him. He warned me not to come and not to stop suck. Only when both men were satisfied would I be allowed to come. I blinked my understanding and redoubled my efforts. I sucked, licked, tightened my lips. I worked the muscles of my pussy, pushed back as much as I could, meeting my Dominant’s thrusts. Just when I thought I could stand no more, Hot cream shot down my throat. A moment later, I felt my beloved Mr. Brichly grip my hips and pant as he too filled me with his cum. The men then traded places. I eagerly licked and sucked my Dominant’s cum covered cock as Mr. Fender inserted four fingers into my wet pussy. He pressed his thumb against my clit and told me that I was very good, a well trained slut. He again spoke soothingly but confidently. My world exploded and I came, coating his fingers with my own pleasure. After, he unbound me, held me on his lap, and signed the papers making Mr. Brichly his new agent.
One box left. Janice looked at Clark, pleadingly.
“Really. I’ve learned my less, Clark. I have. Please don’t make me do this again today. I can’t stand it. My bottom is so very, very tender. Please.”
“Open the box, Janice.”
Wiping a tear away, Janice did as she was told. when she saw the three balled anal bead plug, she sighed with relief. It was much smaller than the plugs she’d had to wear the last 2 days. Plus, it too was made of silicone, so it was flexible.
Just as he had the last two mornings, Clark inserted the plug and ran through his questions.
“Whose ass is this?”
“When will this come out?”
When you decide.
“Does it hurt?”
“Is it comfortable?”
Janice hesitated. “No, but more so than the last two days.”
Clark’s hand came down hard on her ass. “Did as you about the last two days?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
Clark continued to spank her. Hard. At first she bit her lip, then she began to cry and beg. When she heard his words, soft and quiet, telling her to beg more, she understood. If the plug wasn’t enough to make her cry and beg, he’d make her do it another way.
Clark! Please! Ow! I’m sorry.”
“Whose ass? Who decides?”
You. You do!
Ten minutes later, Clark pulled down her dress and helped her to stand. He wiped away her tears, kissed her, and told her to open the store. Despite the smaller plug, Janice was very aware of the beads moving inside of her. Each step caused a slight shift, a constant reminder that Clark controlled her ass and brought a smile to her face. Finally, the day ended. Janice locked the front door of the shop and went into the back room where Clark waited for her. A slow smile spread over his face. He pointed to the table.
“Right here. Bend over.” Janice did so.
“Ready for this to come out?”
“It’s your choice, sir.”
He rubbed her ass. “Now that’s a perfect answer, Janice. So perfect, you deserve a reward.”
Then, he fucked her. Fucked her wet, lonely pussy. She came the moment the tip of his cock touched her eager hole. He laughed when she came so quickly. She didn’t care that the beads were still in her ass. His cock was inside of her pussy. Nothing. Absolutely nothing else in the world matter. Then, he gave the beads a tug. She gasped. In one quick, hard movement, he yanked the beads out and thrust his cock in. She exploded.
“Please. Please, Clark. Come. Come in my pussy. Please,” she begged. It had been days since he’d filled her pussy with his sweetness. He leaned over her and whispered.
“But I promised you three days of cum in your ass, Janice. You know I keep my promises.”
Janice stared intently at the two remaining box, uncertain. Finally, she pointed to the largest.
Biting her lip, she did as Clark said. When she saw the plug that would be inside of her for at least 7 hours, she gave a little hiccup. If she thought yesterday had been challenging, this would be worse. At least she’d only be plugged for 7 hours rather than 9. On the other hand, this plug splayed out in 4 directions rather than 2. She could only imagine how full and uncomfortable it would be inside of her.
“Perfect,” Clark said. “I was hoping you’d pick this one. Now. Position.”
Janice new better than to hesitate. She bent over, cringing when Clark swiped her bottom with the cold lube. He pushed it inside of her, scissoring his fingers. When he felt she was ready, he pressed in the plug.
“Please, Clark. It’s too big. Please, no.”
“Whose ass is this?”
“Yours,” Janice answered, whimpering slightly.
“Who was being a brat?”
“I was.” Oh god. It was too big. Surely it would never fit.
“How long will this be inside of you?”
“Until you take it out.” She’d insisted on this a long time ago when she’d first entered into a D/s relationship and Clark had readily agreed. Whatever he put in or on her stayed there until she used her safe word or he took it out. Now, she almost regretted this rule. Almost.
Janice cried out. The plug was seated inside of her. She could feel her sphincter close and the plug’s petals open.
“No whining, Janice. None. No begging, either. You will open the store on time and go about your job as you always do. There had best not be one customer who comments about anything odd regarding you. You will smile, walk normally, sit without wincing. Understand.”
Janice accepted Clark’s hand and stood upright, the plug filling her body.
At 4:00 sharp, Clark called into the back office of their store.
“Are you comfortable, Janice?”
“Are you in pain?”
“Are you ready for me to remove the plug?”
Yes, Please. Please take it out, Clark.
He looked at her, a sad expression on his face.
“You really haven’t learned, have you. What was our first rule?
“I see you remember. And do you remember me warning you not to whine or beg today? What did you just do?”
I’m so sorry.
“We’ll see how much sorry you are a little later. I was going to take the plug out since we are at a lull in the day, but not now. Go on back out to the floor, love.”
An hour later, Janice again found herself in the back room. Clark asking the same questions. Now, though, she knew the correct answer to his question.
“It is for you to decide when to take it out, sir.”
Clark smiled, as did Janice. That night, snuggled in Clark’s arms, her bottom hole once again filled with cum, Janice fell asleep with one though in her head. One. More. Box.
“Go on. Choose.”
Janice looked at the three boxes and bit her lip. He’d promised her this. She’d been bratty and complaining, and so he told her that for three days her ass would be his, but that she would choose the instrument of torture. Now, she understood what he’d meant. She glanced up at Clark, saw him frown, and knew that if she didn’t choose immediately she’d be over his lap for a good ten minutes. That would put her behind schedule and late for work. She pointed to the middle box.
She did, her eyes widening with horror at what she saw.
“Please, Clark, no. Please.”
“Bend over. Now, Janice.”
“But Clark. Please.” She began to cry even as she bent over. She didn’t have time to disobey. He wouldn’t allow her to open the shop until he’d done this. For each minute she was late opening the shop, she’d receive 20 swats.
“That’s it. Keep begging all you want, Janice. Won’t matter. I’m going to lube you first.”
She jumped a little when he pressed the cold gel into her anus. He worked it inside of her until she was loosened to his satisfaction.
“Please, Clark. Not all day. An hour. Let me start with an hour.”
“You’ll have it in for an hour. Then another. Then another. When will it come out?”
Janice sobbed, her bottom stretching to accommodate the plug. “When you take it out,” she whimpered.
“And why is that?”
“Because my ass belongs to you.”
“That’s right. This.” She cried out, the widest part of the plug now inside of her. “Is mine.”
Now that the plug was seated, she felt the two halves spread out, stretching her even further. Yesterday when he’d wanted to plug her, she’d begged him not to, saying she was afraid it might slip out when they had customers in the store. He’d thought a moment, the agreed to wait a day. That he’d have a plan, a solution for her concern. He was right. There was no way on earth this would ever slip out of her unintentionally. If she attempted to remove it, she’d be caned. That was their agreement. Only he could take out what he put in.
“And there is no way you’ll forget that today is there?”
Wiping her tears away, she said, “No, sir.”
“Is it comfortable?”
“Does it hurt you?”
“Then it stays. All day.”
Nine hours later, Janice was once again bent over his desk, her first tortuous day at an end. Her bottom hole gaping, tender, and now filled not with a silicone plug, but with Clark’s cum. He helped her stand, kissed her, and said, “Two more days, Janice. Two more plugs. The fun has just begun.”
I absolutely LOVE wearing my collar. Whenever Milord puts it on me, the world goes away. All of the stress, worry, responsibilities. Everything. I have one responsibility. Just one. To please him. I have one decision to make. Just one. Yes or No. The moment I feel the kiss of leather on my neck, the snap of the lock securing it in place, I am free. If Milord chooses to attach the chains, I have one choice. Yes or No. He will respect this choice. If Milord chooses to use my mouth. I choose Yes or No (okay, I’ve NEVER chosen No.) It is Milord who decides if I wear clothes or not, if he will make love to me or fuck me, which hole or holes he will enjoy, if I massage him or he massages me, if I am to be pampered or punished. I am free to obey or respectfully decline. I am free of all other decisions. But more, the collar is a constant reminder of Milord’s love, respect, and protection. It is a symbol of my trust in him and his in me. It is a visual and physical reminder that he has earned my love and trust to the extent that I, literally, offer him my throat, my body, my mind, and my heart.
Sadly, because of LIFE, I am usually only collared on weekends. This left me sad and anxious during the work week. Then, Milord gave me a bracelet. A beautiful silver and gold (so it goes with anything!) intertwining (as our lives do) bracelet. This I can wear any and everywhere. Which is good, because it is locked onto my wrist. Yes, I carry a key to it – for emergencies – but it is Milord’s key that can only truly unlock it from my wrist. Now, even if I’m negotiating a multi-million dollar deal, I can look down and be reminded that, at the end of the day, I belong to a man who values me in his life enough to take on the responsibility of a 24/7 submissive woman. At the end of the day, I will go home to strong arms and a stronger heart. At the end of the day, I am his.