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STANDING ON THE CORNER - 5/23/2011 5:22:15 AM   

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    Every passer-by could tell that the woman was nervous enough to jump out of her skin.  The tension in her body, the rigidness of her posture, the way her eyes darted to each tall form that came into her line of sight, the flush on her face, the wringing of her hands--all spoke of nerves stretched taut.  

Every woman knew, that she was waiting for the man who would change her life; every man wished that, somewhere, a woman were waiting for him, with that same breathless, anticipation. She drew in a deep breath, and took a sip of water to try to still the inner tremors.  She closed her eyes in a futile attempt to will herself calm.  She silently scolded herself, Stop it this instant, you silly bitch!   She took herself into a quiet little room in her mind, and the noise of the bar receded.  While her eyes were closed, a tall man stepped up quietly behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.   "At last, Suzi," he said, in that low voice that she knew so well from countless Skype conversations on the net--, the voice that had given her hope.  The whole world, even her thoughts and breath, seemed to stand still.  She found herself unable to open her eyes; her mouth was as dry as a desert wind and her throat refused to release the breath she had drawn in at the first sound of his voice and touch of his hand.   He chuckled deep in his throat, "Breathe, little one, breathe, relax."  At his words, the tension left her body and she was able to exhale, his hand stroked her hair, "Good girl." He grasped her by the shoulders and swiveled her bar stool to face him, "Look at me, and say hello, little one."  She raised her eyes as she said, "hello little one” She answered his warm laugher with an impish grin, and whispered, "Hello, Sir."              He hugged her and whispered to her, "Smart ass little subbie-- you'll pay for that later."  Her eyes glistened, "Is that a promise?" His hand gripped her upper arm firmly, helping her from the barstool, "Definitely.  But for now let's get a table. I'm ordering for you."  With that, he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her surely into the dining room. True to his word, once they were seated she was not even presented a menu.

He glanced at her over the top of his menu, "How much did you weigh this morning?" Her face flushed a bright pink and she suddenly developed an intense interest in the pattern of the silverware, "Ninety-two."  "Hmmmmm," was his only response as he continued to study the menu.  She sat with her hands neatly folded in her lap as a server filled the water glasses.  She wished that she still had her long hair to fiddle with; she should have at least worn her long wig -- but he had not given her permission for that.  He gave the waiter their orders -- Pasta with rich sauces, bread, and a large antipasto platter, in place of a salad.  He indicated a wine and the waiter went away.  "You haven't been eating properly.  Ninety-two?  What was your last body fat percentage?" Again she averted her eyes and said, just above a whisper, "Seven." He reached across the table and, with two fingers, raised her chin so their eyes met, "Suzi, you aren't caring for my property properly.  Do you want to have to send me a food log every day?"   The edge she knew so well was in his voice.  "No, Sir.  I'll do better, “she said, as she blinked the tears away and sat up straighter. She relaxed as she heard the warmth come back into his voice, "I know that you will my little one." "Because you say so, Sir," was her whispered reply.  His blue eyes met her green ones, “Of course."

The rest of the meal was uneventful--filled with light chatter -- business, current events and a million and one other inconsequential things.  The only awkward moment was when she tried to push her plate away before he thought she had eaten enough.   He simply moved her plate back in front of her and continued speaking as though nothing were amiss.  She understood and ate more of the richly sauced pasta.   She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest of the passenger seat.  The electricity in the car was palpable as he drove toward her home-- the only coherent thought in her mind was finally.  She concentrated on slowing down her pulse and breathing.  His physical presence in the small-enclosed space was having a definite effect on her.  Her nipples were straining at the silk shirt and she knew the skirt was going to need a trip to the dry cleaners.  At irregular intervals, he would reach over and touch her somewhere innocuous--her forearm, her cheek, or the outside of her thigh.  Each touch felt like an electric shock--making her nipples harder, her heart race, and the hair on the back of her neck stand up.  A small sigh of disappointment escaped her lips each time he withdrew the contact.  

With a bland expression on his face, he calmly reached over and ran his hand along the back of her neck.  She purred and melted into the contact as drove on.  Without warning, he slid his fingers up into the back of her hair and curled them into a fist.  "Cum, my little slut.  Cum for your Master,"      Her pussy spasmed immediately at his words, releasing a gush of her juices.  Her muscles grew rigid as she trembled with the strength of the orgasm that was rippling through her body.  She bit back the loud moans so that only a series of mewing sounds emerged.  The pungent aroma of female arousal wafted through the air.  Her back arched, straining her nipples even harder against the thin blouse she wore.    As the spasms subsided, he relaxed the fist in her hair and stroked her hair and neck softly.  "That's my little one.  Such a good girl," he crooned as her body relaxed.  "Thank You, Master," she whispered breathlessly.   "The pleasure was entirely mine, little one.  I have waited a long time to see that with my own eyes,” he smiled as he watched her blush creep from her hairline to where it disappeared under her blouse. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back and drifted into an almost-sleep.  "Suzi, we're here," he whispered. 

She opened her eyes, and saw her house in front of her.  Without looking at him, she opened her handbag and pulled out a key chain with only one key on it.  The small sterling silver fob was engraved with "Sir" on one side and a four-digit code on the other.  She clutched it tightly in her fist as she turned to meet his eyes-- with no break in eye contact; she turned her fist over and opened it-- the key lying on her trembling, open palm, like an offering.    He picked up the key, and brought her wrist to his lips in a brief kiss.  "Thank you, little one.  I am honored." He opened his car door and stepped out--and extended his hand for her to slide across the seat and follow him.  With complete trust she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her from the car. He used his key to unlock the door to her house, and entered the four-digit alarm code from the fob on the key ring.  Their eyes met as he slipped the key into his pocket.  Her voice sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet house, "This is one door that you can say you never had to knock on."  "Well then, give me the fifty-cent tour," he said as he took her arm.  They strolled through the house, pausing for her to start fame on the stereo.  She showed him her home and the attached office.  They paused again in the kitchen to open a bottle of red wine.  She invited him to the large French doors that led to the deck overlooking the oasis she had created in her backyard.  Roses, honeysuckle vines, jasmine and tuberose all gave their scent to the crisp night air.  "Make yourself at home," she gestured to the chairs arranged around the outdoor fireplace.  They sat and sipped their wine in companionable silence.  When she finished her glass, he reached over and ran a finger up the side of her neck, and whispered in her ear, "You have five minutes to go to your bedroom, strip down to your stockings and shoes and wait for me."   She turned her head to meet his eyes, "Yes Master."  She rose and walked slowly to the French doors; before she walked through she turned to say, "I will await your pleasure, Sir." In her bedroom, she quickly removed her skirt and blouse and put them in the cupboard.  All that was left on her body was the white garter belt, black stockings and gold shoes.  She glanced at herself in the mirror and smiled at her reflection.  She was, at last, about to surrender her body to the man who already owned her mind, heart and soul.  A sense of calmness and rightness descended on her.  She steadied herself on her high-heels, closed her eyes and waited for her Master's arrival.     

      The brief minutes that she had to wait seemed like an eternity, but at last she heard his footsteps in the hall, and then heard them cross the threshold to her room.  She opened her eyes to see that he had brought with him the small travel bag that he had taken from the car; he sat it down on the floor and walked to stand in front of her. His hand lifted her chin to look sternly into her eyes.  Her body and soul quivered with pleasure at the edge of command in His voice, "Unless given express permission, you are not to speak. Nod if you understand this."  She eagerly nodded her head.   "Very good.  Now, spread your legs and place your hands behind your head.  Stand up straight!"  A flicker of appreciation gleamed in his eyes at her instant compliance. He began to slowly circle her body, touching her here and there:  a fingernail raked up her spine, fingertips circled lightly on her ass cheeks; her nipples were rolled between thumb and forefinger.  She felt a sharp sense of loss each time a touch stopped, even as her body tensed in anticipation, wondering where the next would land.  Her breathing became labored; her heart raced; her nipples tightened; her face flushed a dusky rose.  Soft muffled whimpers came from her, as she tightly pressed her lips together, knowing that she must not speak.  Moisture was forming between her legs, and she knew that he knew it.

  His even, steady gaze caused her to shudder as it noted each of her reactions to his every touch.  He was, she knew, learning her responses, watching what made her body quiver and fires of raw need course through her veins. He placed his fingers under her chin and looked deeply into her eyes; her lids dropped over her eyes as she trembled violently.  Sure now of his power in her mind, he pulled an armless chair to sit in front of her.  Without a word, he grasped her by the waist and pulled her over his knees.   He smiled at the sharp intake of breath.  He savored her vulnerable position, devouring her with his eyes.  He watched her quiver with anticipation, noticing the subtle thrusting of her buttocks upward--the very invitation He had been waiting for.  CRACK!!  His hand fell; she gave a small, muffled cry but bore the blow without flinching.  CRACK--the other cheek this time.  Tears sprang to her eyes; as she bit down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out, "Thank You, Sir!" 
His hand rose and fell in quickening tempo; her breathing became choked with hoarse sobs and moans.  Moisture from her cunt seeped onto the leg of his pants.  He felt the sweat begin to form beneath his hand on the small of her back.  He sensed the straining in her muscles as her body writhed on his lap.  "Give Me your left hand, little one,” He said as he reached into the small bag beside the chair.  He pulled her hand behind her back.  "Now, the other hand, don't make me wait."  With her body precariously balanced over his knees, he expertly secured her wrists together with the rough hemp rope he had brought with him.  His hand curled into her hair and pulled her to her feet as he rose from the chair.    He gave her a brief moment to steady herself on her feet before placing his hands behind his back.   His eyes traveled up and down her body, assessing his pet: tousled hair damp around the edges with sweat, emerald eyes wide, pupils dilated, face flushed, lips slightly parted, nipples erect, light sheen of sweat glistening on her almost translucent skin.  "Yes," He murmured to himself, "exactly as it should be."          

     She stood there before him, the position of her bound arms thrusting her breasts forward, her entire body tingling with the anticipation of what will come next.  His gaze felt like a caress on her skin.  A tiny whimper slipped past her lips as he picked up the riding crop from the table.   "On your toes, little one.  Now," with that edge of danger in his voice that so thrilled her.  Rising on her toes, she struggled to stay upright with her hands bound behind her.  The very tip of the crop fell onto her ass, the sensation making her sway.  SSSSSSSSSWISH!  The tip fell again, the sharp sting blending into the first.  He brought the tip down onto her flesh softly, again and again, enjoying the tiny rivulets of sweat that trickled down the sides her neck and the stripes that marked her ass.   Shifting slightly, He brought the crop down again--this time the full length cut across her already inflamed cheeks.  Low moans and growls were coming from her throat.  He stopped and noted her rigid posture, her every muscle straining for release.   "No, little one.  Not yet--you will not cum until I tell you.  Nod if you understand me."   He watched her struggle to gain control over the sensations in her body as she nodded her head.  "Good girl," He said, as he watched her muscles relax. He watched her breasts rise and fall as her breath came in gasps.  He noted the erectness of the nipples.  He wondered how many clothespins he could fit on each one.  Her body hummed with anticipation as the tip of the crop moved back and forth across her nipples.  Waves of pleasure rippled through her body as he toyed with her nipples with the tip of the crop.  With a quick flick of his wrist, He landed the crop sharply across the top of her breasts, leaving a red stripe just above her nipples.  A sharp gasp of "OH!" escaped her lips before she could bite it back.  Her eyes went wider in terror and she pressed her lips more tightly together, hoping He hadn't noticed.  She knew those hopes were futile when he stepped in front of her, and placed two fingers lightly under her chin, "Did you say something, little one?"  His eyes had the cold fire of diamonds and his voice could cut granite with a single word.  She blinked tears from her eyes and shook her head rapidly.  "Very good, I didn't think so; I should hate to be forced to punish you so early. 

That wouldn't please me at all."  She reveled in the bite of raw power in his voice and realized that just the knowledge she had displeased him would hurt far worse than any punishment he could devise. Her knees almost buckled at the thought of how utterly she belonged to him; she swayed on her toes, nearly falling forward.   One of his large, strong hands pressed to her breastbone held her upright.  The contact of his skin sent ripples of warmth throughout her body, as though it gave off a low-level electrical charge.  She felt an intense longing to lean just a bit more into this contact--a longing quickly quenched by the awareness that he had not given permission for this.   With a quavering exhalation, she was able to steady herself on her toes once more.   The stab of loss she felt when he removed his hand was replaced by a warm glow of pleasure and pride, as he leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Such a good girl." His hot breath on her neck made columns of summer lightning dance in her head.  She battled with an almost overwhelming desire to lean her body into his strength.  She sternly reminded herself of her purpose -- to serve his needs, fulfill his desires.  When he wanted her body pressed to his, he would put it there.  Consciously, she willed herself to stand straighter and vowed not to disappoint him by disobedience.

As if he could read her thoughts, he stared deeply into her eyes, "Excellent decision, little one."  The warmth in his eyes felt like a badge of honor to her.  Her mind was reeling; how had she become so quickly addicted to his praise and approval? He placed the tip of the crop at the hollow at the base of her throat and dragged it lightly and slowly downward, toward the juncture of her thighs, where her juices were flowing freely.  When the tip of the crop was a fraction of an inch from her slit, he changed direction and began a slow ascent.  A tiny whimper escaped her throat, but she steeled herself to remain motionless as the crop made its upward journey. The crop touched her chin, "Are you wet, little one?  Are you dripping?"  She opened her mouth to speak, saw his eyebrows arch upward, and remembered his prohibition.  She nodded her head, instead.  He chuckled, "Very good, little one knows that being asked a question does not imply permission to speak.  Such a wise, good girl."  She released a tremulous sigh, knowing that she had just passed a test.  

The tears of relief made her eyes sparkle and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She was confused; I don't fucking cry she thought, but he has had me on the verge of tears twice in one evening.  He bent his tall frame over hers and brushed a light kiss on her forehead, "You please me very much, little one." Those words were her undoing; the tears began to fall in earnest now, sliding down her cheeks and falling onto her breasts.    He curled one hand into a fist in her hair and whispered roughly in her ear, "Whom do you belong to?  You may speak now." She gasped out, "I belong to You, Master."   "Yes," he growled into her ear, "All Mine, My little one, all of you belongs to me."  Her knees buckled at these words; with one hand still curled into her hair and the other on the small of her back, he supported her until her legs steadied.  When she could stand alone, he whispered, "Show Me."   She tilted her head back to look into his eyes and took three steps backward.  Without breaking eye contact, she sank to her knees and leaned forward, placing her forehead on the toe of his right shoe.  He could clearly see the characters tattooed on the back of her neck--the ones that meant, "Slave" in Mandarin.  With the tip of the crop, he traced the shapes and watched as a line of chill bumps traveled up her spine.  He savored the sight of her there--kneeling at his feet, surrendering herself completely to him--his to do with as he wished.  The thrill of power surged through his body.    "On your knees, little one," he ordered.              She complied instantly, rising gracefully from her prostrate position.   She sat perfectly straight and still, knees wide apart.  He smoothed her hair and murmured, "Such a good girl," just as the crop landed across the tops of her breasts a finger's width from her nipples.  She gasped, but did not flinch.   SSSSSSSSSSWISH!!  The crop cut through the air again and landed a diagonal stripe across her back; she felt her core becoming moister as the light sheen of sweat on her skin seeped into the welt -- deepening the sting and the pleasure.  He paced around her, wielding the crop on whatever part of her body he chose -- her breasts, nipples, back, the tops of her buttocks, her inner thighs all fell victim to the skillfully applied wand of leather.  Her breasts heaved as her breathing quickened; her face flushed as stripes from his light lashing criss-crossed her skin.

Soft whimpers and moans came from her slightly parted lips, but she did not flinch or cry out; she bore the hail of blows as still as a statue.  Only the glow in her ever-darkening eyes betrayed the heat rising in her. The cutting of the air with the crop paused as he stepped in front of her, with the tip of the crop he toyed her nipples and clit.  He slid the tip of the crop between her folds.  She gasped and trembled slightly as he withdrew it, brushing it across her clit on the way, and spread the juices onto her lips. He savored the sight of the red welts on her pale skin and watched as the tip of her tongue darted out to taste her juices off the tip of the crop.  He chuckled, "Such a greedy little one she is."  After he had taken the crop from her lips, he watched as her tongue snaked out and licked off the juices he had put there.  His eyes darkened as he chuckled, "Look at me, little one." She raised her eyes to meet his.  The glacial coldness in his steely blue eyes warmed as they met her wide passion-darkened green ones, "Ask what you want to ask now, pet.  You may speak." She drew in a tremulous breath and swallowed rapidly, "Please, Sir, how may I pleasure you?  Will you allow me to worship you with my mouth?"  She quivered at the low growl in the back of his throat. "In a bit, little one, I will take my pleasure with you.  Her eyes went wide-- overflowing with questions.  He returned her look with a bland stare, "Stand up, walk to the bed and lie down on your back, legs spread."  She rose as gracefully as she could with her hands bound behind her and settled herself on the bed as she had been instructed.  He watched her movements with as she lay back with her eyes closed, her bound arms under her, thrusting her breasts upward. 

Her mind raced over every moment of the evening, had she done something to displease him?   He approached the bed with a box in his hand, "Feet flat on the bed spread wide."  She complied immediately, eyes closed.  She heard the clasps of the box opening; suddenly his hand was on her right nipple, toying with it. He picked up the small tool kit and walked to the end of the bed to stand and look at her -- hair damp with sweat, red stripes crisscrossed her body, eyes closed in perfect trust.  With no warning, he raked his nails over the red welts on her inner thigh.  She gave a small surprised cry as her eyes flew open and the moisture on her gaping lips increased.  "Now that I have your undivided attention . . ." he said as he pinched her throbbing clit.  She could feel coldness and the pain as he clamped her left, and the right nipples, and then traced a path to her pulsating clit, she trembles as the force of the clamp grasped her tenderness, as he flicked his finger against it; her inner walls spasmed, as she fought back the urge to rock her hips.  She heard the clasps of the box close, suddenly his hand was behind her neck pushing her to a sitting position and moving her to the edge of the bed.  "Stand up, my little one." She rose unsteadily onto her feet; he wrapped his arms around her.  With one hand he grasped her bound wrists, while the other hand curled into her sweat-matted hair, pulling her head back.  He bent his tall frame to kiss her softly, almost tentatively at first.  Her lips parted under his and the intensity of the kiss increased.  He probed her mouth with his tongue, taking possession inch by inch.  She swayed on her heels; her senses were reeling.  Suddenly his mouth left hers.  He stepped to the travel bag and took out a velvet pouch and walked back to the chair and sat down.  Her eyes followed his movements. His eyes warmed as he smiled at her, "You have indeed pleased me, pet."  He gestured to the floor near his feet, "Kneel here, little one.  Only one more bit of business to clear up."  She walked slowly to the spot he had indicated.  She gazed deeply into his eyes as she sunk to her knees.  He pulled from the pouch an intricately linked chain of highly polished surgical steel and a heart shaped lock. He turned the lock in his hand to show her the one word engraved on it-- MINE. 

She drew in her breath as the light sparkled on the metal.  Her mouth was dry, but tears sprang to her eyes.    "Do you want to wear this, little one?  Do you need it, do you crave it in the depths of your soul?" he asked, his blue eyes never leaving hers.  Tears trickled down her cheeks as she nodded her head; she hoped that he knew speech was beyond her at this point.  Her breath came in ragged gasps as he leaned forward with the gleaming chain in his hands.  She closed her eyes as the tears coursed down her face; she gasped as the weight of the chain settled on her neck.  The weight increased only slightly as she heard the click of the lock closing and its coldness settling into the hollow of her throat.  Her body shuddered violently with a passionate desire to serve this man.  His voice rang sharply in the quiet room, "Look at me, pet."  She opened her eyes and felt his gaze brush her very soul.  His voice was quieter now, "Who do you belong to?" She managed to choke out through her dry mouth and sobs in a barely audible whisper, "I belong to You, Master."  His eyes grew steely, "Yes, all mine, my toy, my slut, my fuckdoll, for my pleasure, my amusement.  My little one."  Her shudders increased with every word until she was trembling violently.  His hand curled into her hair, gripping roughly, bruising the scalp; he pulled her to her feet and walked her to the back of the chair, her toes barely touching the ground.  Moving his hand to the back of her neck, he bent her forward over the back of the chair.  "Stay," was his harsh command.  He quickly unfastened his trousers to release his throbbing erection.  He paused a moment to drink in the sight of her there--back and buttocks striped with red welts -- his hardness throbbed as he looked and knew he could do anything he wished to her willing body.  Inflamed by this thought, he plunged into her dripping slit, pounding mercilessly.  She cried out as his thrusts drove into her, possessing her body with a surety that filled her with ecstasy.  Her mind was reeling from the sensation of being claimed, being owned.  As if he could read her thoughts, he began to whisper, "Yes, Mine, all mine, mine to fuck, mine to torture, mine to tease, mine to use.  However and whenever and wherever I choose.  My little slut, my toy, my slave, my property."  His words caused her inner walls to spasm around him and her juices to increase their heated flow.   All her muscles tightened as strangled cries emerged from deep in her throat.  She could feel him throbbing and growing inside her as her whole body cried for release.    His thrust became more brutal as his sac tightened.  He barked out, "Cum, slut, now.  Cum!"  At the same instant he exploded; her body writhed and convulsed with the ripples of climax that overtook all her senses.
A scream from the pit of her soul mingled with his howl of release as he emptied his seed into her.  For interminable moments, nothing existed but the quivering pulsations of their pleasure.  As the world came flowing back around them, he reached up and released the bonds on her wrist and stroked the rope marks there.  He pulled out of her and helped her to stand up.  When her knees nearly gave way, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed and gently laid her there.  Quickly, he removed his clothes, and lay down beside her.

Tears were soundlessly falling down her cheeks.  He brushed them away with tender lips, he gently removed the clamps from her, "Sleep now, my little one.  You please me.  You are mine.   Sleep, little love.  Tomorrow the adventures begin."  He cradled her in his arms as her body relaxed into slumber, a soft smile on her tear stained face.                          

< Message edited by Zeigus -- 5/23/2011 5:28:42 AM >
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