Taking a StandbyLadynStFreknBed©
On the way home from work, my mind turned over the events from the day. I was disappointed to be overlooked for the promotion for which I had applied. However, I wasn't even sure I had wanted to extra responsibility that the new position would have entailed. Perhaps it was for the best. It still hurt that my boss didn't seem to see me as supervisor material.
I convinced myself that after a long bath and a glass of wine, I would be feeling much better. After I relax, a nice, not-so-quiet evening at home with my boyfriend would be extremely satisfying.
I pulled into the driveway, parked, and walked through my front door. There were two soda cans and a dirty plate on the coffee table. The carpet hadn't been vacuumed. My boyfriend, Derrick, sat reclined on the couch, cradling his laptop with his legs. He looked up, said a sheepish "hi" and returned his attention to the blue glow of the computer screen.
As I walked up the steps to my bedroom, I heard the dryer buzzer. This morning, the only thing that I had asked him to do by the time I got home from work was to finish the laundry by the time I returned. The buzzer had sent tension through my spine. I felt taken for granted.
Many of my past relationships had ended this way. I would feel taken for granted. I had always been too nice to make my needs known. I was too nice to risk hurting my ex-boyfriends' feelings by being honest about my own. The relationship would eventually fizzle out leaving me feeling empty and used. After several therapy sessions in an attempt to avoid repeating this pattern, I was ready to speak up for the sake of this relationship.
I approached my dresser to gather new clothes for after my bath. I knew I wanted to be relaxed, especially if I needed to have a difficult conversation with Derrick. I hoped that things would go well and would lead to emotional and physical intimacy.
As I was looking for a nightgown, my hand brushed against the edge of the white box at the bottom of my drawer. I blushed as I remembered what was in the box. Maybe there's an even better way to get my point across, I thought.
I had been saving this for Derrick's birthday, but why? I need this now. I pulled the box from my drawer, selected my favorite black thongs from my top drawer, and walked to the bathroom.
I started the hot water for my bath. After drizzling bubblebath along the flowing water, I checked myself in the mirror. My pale skin on my face was free from any sign of my impending middle age status. I'd often get carded whenever I ordered wine to go with my dinner. My boyfriend was younger than I, but he looked his age. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Black men age so well.
As the water in the bathtub was as I wanted it, I shut off the faucet and disrobed. I lowered myself into the steamy water. I could feel the tension float away as the bubbles embraced my curves. I reclined in the tub and let the hot water work its magic. Once I felt relaxed, my thoughts drifted to what I should do with Derrick.
When I was satisfied with my plans, I summoned Derrick. Shortly, I heard his footsteps on the stairs. At least he comes when he's called, I snickered to myself. He entered the bathroom to find me still relaxed in the bathtub.
"I'm afraid I used water that was too hot. I'll need to make sure I moisturize well. Oh, and you're going to help."
I stood up from the bathtub, allowing the bubbles to drift down my body. I held out my hand for Derrick to help me out of the bathtub. He seemed a little confused at first, but he happily took my hand as I stepped out of the tub.
"Get a clean towel," I said.
He reached into the cabinet and handed me a towel.
"No. Not that towel. The thick pink one," I retorted.
He slowly returned the towel he was holding to the cabinet and selected the pink one. He handed it to me.
"Well, go on. Dry me off," I said impatiently.
He seemed quite confused, but was happy to oblige. He gently patted the towel all over my moist body. At one point, he started to say something.
"I didn't give you permission to speak," I snapped.
"Sorry, Mistress," he replied apologetically.
I was impressed. We had never played with submission before, but he had taken my cues quite well. After he was done drying me, I instructed him to put on my lotion. He lovingly rubbed the lotion all over my body. Afterwards, I pointed out the white box. He opened it to reveal a stiff, black corset and a riding crop. He smiled.
"Something funny?" I said threateningly.
"No, mistress. Sorry," he replied.
He ran his fingers along the curves of my torso and breasts before he dressed me in the corset. He held my thong as I stepped into it. He slowly raised the straps of the thong up my legs and into place. He handed me the riding crop.
"On your hands and knees," I ordered.
He quickly fell to his hands and knees. He looked up at me, half pleading and half worried about what I had in store. I knew he wanted me. I felt his hardness against me while he had rubbed on my lotion and dressed me. Not even his jeans could have hidden his desire.
I gently stroked the side of his face with the leather end of the crop.
"I was disappointed with you when I came home today. Do you know why?"
"Because I didn't have the laundry finished?"
"That's a big part of it. There are two more reasons. Do you know what they are?"
He thought for a moment before saying "no".
I swatted his backside with the crop. He flinched, but did not move or protest.
"Address me properly!" I ordered.
"No, Mistress," he said apologetically.
"That's better. Well, the two other reasons for my disappointment are that you disrespected me and my house."
"Mistress, I would never do that!"
"Are you arguing with me?" I asked as I gave him another swat.
"When I came home, you had a dirty dish and soda cans on the coffee table. That's disrespecting my house. When you barely said "hi" to me before returning to your computer, that's disrespecting me. Understand?"
"Sorry, Mistress. I would never intentionally disrespect you or your house. I will do better," Derrick replied.
"Good. I know you will. You love me, don't you?"
"Of course I do, Mistress. You are my everything," he said with sincerity in his eyes.
I smiled. "Then make sure you show it in the future, ok?"
"Now, get up. Go undress in our room and wait for me on the bed," I instructed.
I took my time brushing and drying my hair. I took a moment to look at the ebony corset against my pale skin. Something about visual contrast in tone has always turned me on. I assume that's why I love black men so much. It's a pity that in all my previous relationships, I never got what I needed. As I looked in the mirror, I traced my cleavage with my fingers as I assured myself that this time I was going to get what I needed.
I entered the bedroom to see that my boyfriend had lit the candles beside the bed. "Nice touch," I thought.
"I have some of my favorite wine chilling in the refrigerator. Why don't you go get it for us?"
He left the room, returning shortly with the bottle of wine and two wine glasses.
"Pour me a glass," I ordered.
He poured my glass, then proceded to start filling the other glass.
"Did I tell you to fill both glasses?" I asked.
"No, Mistress," he said as he immediately stopped pouring.
He handed me the full glass. I took a sip, allowing the taste to drench my palate before swallowing. After another sip, I told Derrick to lie on the bed.
I took my time, tracing his body with the riding crop. I enjoyed looking at him. He was lovely.
"You are not to make a sound or cum without permission. Do you understand?"
I set my wine glass on my table and straddled his legs. I moved closer to his cock, which was beginning to throb in anticipation. I lowered my mouth over the head of his beautiful, dark cock. I began sucking him, flicking my tongue across the head of his cock on each upwards stroke. It did not take him long to be incredibly hard. As I flicked my tongue across the head, he let out a small gasp. I froze.
"What was that?" I snapped while I gave him an icy glare. I stood up beside the bed.
"I'm sorry, Mistress. It felt so good. I didn't mean to disobey you."
"But, you did. Didn't you?"
"Get on your hands and knees. Now!"
I took the riding crop firmly in my hand. He presented his bare behind to me. I whipped the end of the crop against his exposed butt. He winced. I struck him again. He didn't even wince that time. I swatted him one more time. I could feel the electric energy of lust build in the room.
I ordered him to stand up. I embraced him and kissed him. Deeply, my tongue searched out his tongue as he pulled me tighter in his arms and held me. I could have stayed lost in that kiss for hours. Slowly, he lowered me to the bed.
"If it pleases Mistress, I would like to make up for my transgressions."
All I could do is nod. He kissed my thighs and removed my thong, slowly sliding them down my legs. He parted my thighs and lowered his face to my already wet slit. His tongue teased my clit. I moaned and eventually shuddered uncontrollably.
He looked into my eyes with a smile on his face. I felt him thrust his hard cock into me. I gasped with the first thrust. His cock always felt so good inside me. With each thrust, I moaned loudly. My tight, hot femaleness embraced his cock. He paused and bent down to kiss the cleavage peaking above the top of the corset. He gently nibbled my breasts as he thrust into me once more. I felt myself clamp down on his cock as my whole body trembled. He thrust several more times in quick motions before I felt him throbbing inside me. His hot cum seemed to melt through me and down the curve to my ass and the insides of my thighs. He must have needed this as much as I did, I thought.
He held me tightly, shifting his position so that he was laying beside me on the bed. I went to get up in order to clean myself up, but he tightened his embrace.
"Don't think that I'm ever letting you go," he whispered into my ear.