Jenny Ch. 01

Ahhh...the taste of His come on her tongue! Stressed out as she was (and, she had to admit, aroused as well) by her punishment and the accompanying terror of being discovered handcuffed to the railings outside her apartment in just her bra and panties—and now with His come all over her face—the acrid, salty taste of Him was as familiar and comforting as chicken soup.

She knew better than to swallow without permission, of course. But she could feel a precious drop or two poised on the very back of her tongue and while He was still recovering from his orgasm allowed herself to quickly tilt her head back just the tiniest fraction more...and felt a small but satisfying trickle make its way down her throat.

But it was if she had swallowed an infinitesimal depth-charge. Between the erotic stimulation of watching Him masturbate and then come all over her and the vibrations of the tireless Long John between her legs she felt an eruption beginning to rumble inside her, starting deep within and sending bolts of electricity up her spine like lightning in reverse. Oh god, she was going to come! No! If she came without permission, especially after everything else that had happened, she had no idea what he'd do! At the very least he would write her off, probably just turn and go and leave her handcuffed there for somebody else to find!

She clamped down with everything she had, imagined herself immersed in Arctic waters, concentrated on the pain in her jaw, shoulders, knees and ankles...

And slowly, like a wave that rises and then subsides without breaking she felt the near-orgasm slowly settle and then vanish, leaving only a quivering sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Had He seen? She had a large spatter of come over her right eye but opening her left she saw Him looking down-- putting his cock away and zipping up his jeans. Oh, thank God, He hadn't noticed! But now what?

He turned away from her without a glance, and for one horrified moment Jenny was convinced that Hewas going to just walk down the stairs and out the door. But then He completed the turn, walked back to the chair sitting in her doorway and down in it, facing her. He sat up straight, His hands folded in his lap.

He stared at her from behind his dark glasses.

At first Jenny thought He was expecting her to do something and she tried frantically to think of what it might be—whatcould she do, handcuffed to the railings? But then she realized that He was simply watching her. And waiting. Oh god, He was not only going to leave her there to be discovered by the next person who came up the stairs, He was going to watch it happen!

Five minutes went by, during which Jenny was conscious only of three things: the absolute necessity of keeping still, with her eyes open and focussed on Him; the slow, almost glacial movement of His come as it continued to run down her face, taking a lot of her make-up with it, dripping off her chin and onto her breasts--and of course the now-tortuous humming of Long John between her legs and buttocks.

Ten minutes.

Jenny felt as if she had been frozen into this tableau forever. Her joints were in agony. She almost wished that someonewould come up the stairs, just to get it over with.

Assuming that He would let her go after just one...

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty.

Jenny had no idea what time it was. She guessed about four-thirty. Was she going to have to remain here like this until people started coming home from work after five? She knew she couldn't possibly last that long without keeling over.

And so, apparently, did He because a moment later He abruptly stood up and came over to her. He stood looking down at her, considering...then reached behind her head and unfastened her wrists from their shackles.

Oh god, sweet relief! She felt her shoulders creak as He took hold of her wrists and gently lowered her arms, then slowly pulled her forward until she was resting on all fours. Ahhh...her knees, her ankles...released! She wanted to bend down and kiss His boot—would have, gladly, if He'd indicated that He wanted her to.

But He was busy removing the handcuffs from the railings. Then, almost as an afterthought, He reached down the back of her panties and plucked Long John from its hiding place, the sudden absence of vibration between her legs startling a gasp from Jenny. He switched it off and carried it, along with the cuffs, back into her apartment, grabbing the chair as he went.

Gritting her teeth against the pins-and-needles of returning circulation, Jenny flexed her aching joints as much as she could without actually moving from the position He'd left her in. She was taking no chances. Was her punishment over? Would He return and beckon her back into the apartment?

A moment later He did return...

But He was carrying her collar and leash.

As He fastened the red leather collar around her neck, being careful not to get it tangled in her hair, Jenny wondered if he was going to lead her back into the apartment. Even if it was for more punishment she wouldn't mind so much—just so long as it was behind closed doors!

He took hold of the end of the leash and tugged gently until she began to crawl towards Him. He started walking—backwards, so that he would still be facing her. He led her towards the doorway...

...Then He turned away from her. And led her over to the stairs.

Then down them.

He took his time, allowing her to maintain her balance as she crawled awkwardly down the stairs, head-first, her long blonde hair falling around her face–some of it sticking to the remaining semen there-- and making it difficult to see where she was putting her hands.

As she descended towards the first floor, not daring to think about where He might be leading her, for some reason Jenny found her attention drawn to the soap-opera voices and music emanating from Mrs. Healy's apartment.

"You don't love me. You'venever loved me!" is what she heard as she was led toward Mrs. Healy's door. It was a deep, masculine voice—a little like His, she thought distantly. It sounded angry, and Jenny felt as if the voice were somehow accusing her. The voice that replied, however, was feminine, warm and confident, and seemed to brush the accusations away with a smile, as the music began to soar. "How little you know me after all this time," Jenny heard as she passed the door. "Don't you know I'd do anything for you? Anything at all?"

The dialogue continued, but Jenny was no longer paying attention. He had opened the door that led into the tiny foyer, which led in turn to the front door of the building, which of course led...

Outside.

That was why He had given up waiting for someone to come home, she realized, her mouth suddenly dry. He was going to complete her punishment by taking her...out there.

As she followed him into the foyer, the rough matting there prickling her hands and knees and the tops of her feet, He reached back and closed the door behind her. She was now facing the front door, an old-fashioned one with a large inset glass panel painted with the address-numbers in gold at the top. She could see out, past the concrete stoop and the three steps leading down to the sidewalk, to the street.

It was a residential area, and the traffic was not plentiful at this time of day. But anyone walking by who happened to glance in could see her—a pretty blonde woman, make-up smeared, hair in disarray and wearing nothing but a lavender bra and panties--on her hands and knees, a collar around her neck and a leash being held by an ominous-looking man in black clothing and dark glasses.

He wouldn't really make her go outside, though, would He? She dared to hope that He was only doing this to frighten her, and looked up at Him, her eyes begging for mercy.

He responded with a toss of His chin, indicating that she was to open the door, and her heart sank.

But then she rallied herself and set her mouth in a determined line. She would show Him that even though she sometimes made mistakes she was entirely His, to use as He saw fit. And if she had to crawl all the way around the block in her underwear, wearing a collar and leash, to prove it, then she would.

"Don't You know I'd do anything for You? Anything at all? "was the last thought in her mind as she reached up, twisted the brass doorknob and pushed the door open...

...Only to have His hand close over hers and pull it firmly shut again. She glanced up at him, startled...

And for the first time that day saw the faintest hint of a smile on His face—just before he turned and opened the door behind her.

Then He knelt down and gathered her up into His arms, rose to His feet and began carrying her back up the stairs.

And as He carried her across the threshold of her apartment as if she were a bride (a bride already mostly undressed for the honeymoon, but nevertheless), Jenny knew she had been forgiven.

Even if He did crouch down and grab her largest wooden paddle before carrying her into the bedroom.