A Bad Day

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Can Charlotte's pet give her a happy ending to a bad day?
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Charlotte caught a glimpse of her expression in the rear-view mirror. Her reflection showed all the stress and strain that she was now accustomed to at the end of another day on the training course for her new job. This was the middle of the 5th week of the course and while the job she was being trained to do was exciting, the monotony of the course itself was taking its toll. Today's session had been particularly frustrating. The instructor had been drawn into an hour-long diversion by the questions of a well-intentioned but sadly dim-witted trainee. The diversion was frustrating enough but when the trainer insisted on keeping everyone late to make up time, Charlotte couldn't decide who she was angrier with - the trainee for his stupid questions? Or the trainer for losing control of the class and wasting her time?

Taking one hand off the steering wheel, she felt the tension in her neck and shoulders, a dull painful reminder of the last ten hours that she had spent sat at an undersized desk in the most uncomfortable of chairs. She gently pushed her thumb into the muscles above her shoulder blade and groaned aloud as she felt a momentary release of the tension that was locking up her upper body.

She flicked her indicator to show she was turning right and stopped at a red light. In the wait for the light to change, a tempting thought slipped surreptitiously into her mind. She felt she had earned a treat after a long day and her current plan for a quick gym session and a Netflix box set in her comfiest trackie bottoms didn't feel like it was good enough. A bubble bath with some candles? No - too much effort. A takeaway and a bottle of wine? No - she had an appetite for something else. There was only one thing that would help relieve all this tension. She took her phone out of her handbag with her left hand and with a series of rapid thumb movements, she sent a brief text message. An immediate reply brought a satisfied smile to her lips. She changed her signal indicator to show she would now be turning left at the next junction. The red light changed to green.

-

James sent his last email of the day and closed his work laptop with a sharp click. It had been a long day of emails and Teams meetings and more emails. With his boss on annual leave, it had fallen to James to update a notoriously formidable director on the latest project. In his experience, this was a demanding and thankless experience. This afternoon had been no exception and James stood up from the desk in his spare bedroom feeling under-appreciated after his succinct answers to all the director's questions had garnered nothing more than a begrudging nod.

He moved to the kitchen and had just finished making a protein shake and was about to get changed into his gym gear when he heard the shrill ping of a text alert from his phone. He picked it up. A text from Charlotte. His heart skipped. The facial recognition worked and the message was revealed:

"Mistress has had a bad day. She deserves a treat."

Without thinking, he typed a response:

"Come over and let Your pet spoil You."

He put his phone back down and realised that his heart was racing. The gym would have to wait. He had time for a quick shower to make himself presentable before his Mistress arrived.

-

When Charlotte let herself into James's city centre flat, there was a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc waiting for her on the kitchen table. She picked up the glass and took a large mouthful, leaving a dark red lipstick stain on the edge of the glass. The first sip of wine after a long day was always the most satisfying. As the wine trickled down her throat, she closed her eyes and took a long, slow, deep breath and felt a brief relaxing wave wash over her.

James came in from the bedroom and started chatting, full of nervous excitement.

"Oh hello! I didn't hear you come in. You found the wine. Do you like it? It's a South American one - there's a llama on the label. Erm ... How was your day anyway? Did you come straight here from your course?"

Charlotte listened to the breathless machine-gun questions and was reminded of all the banal chit-chat in her training course that had stolen a precious hour from her evening. She had had enough questions for today. She raised a finger gracefully to her lips.

"Shhh!"

James blinked rapidly and fell silent. He watched Charlotte walk wordlessly to the fridge and pour another glass of wine. Without turning to face him, she spoke in barely more than a whisper but with total clarity so there was no doubting that she was serious.

"Go to the bedroom. Strip. Kneel on the floor in the corner of the room and wait for me. I will join you shortly."

As James obediently went off to the bedroom to humbly follow his orders, Charlotte moved to the sofa and put her feet up on the small coffee table. Taking another sip of wine, she enjoyed a rare moment of tranquility. For the first time all day, there was no noise, no chatter, no questions. She took another deep breath and felt that relaxing wave wash over her again. It didn't last though. The sound of bustling traffic four floors below invaded her ears and brought her back to reality. She sighed. Her fingertip danced around the rim of the wineglass as she pondered what games she would play with her pet. Over the next ten minutes, all kinds of tantalising ideas crossed her mind but there was one recurring idea - whatever she did, her pet would need to stay quiet. She settled back into the sofa to enjoy the rest of her wine.

Twenty more minutes passed before Charlotte tipped her head back and drained her third glass. Taking a small mirror out of her bag, she checked her make-up and carefully re-applied her lipstick. Now she was ready. She strode confidently over to the bedroom door and opened it.

The room was bathed in mellow lamplight. A queen-sized bed lay in the centre of the room adorned in white Egyptian cotton. There were two small bedside tables and one large wardrobe but the decorations were all simple and minimalistic. Charlotte saw James's clothes neatly folded on one bedside table and, without looking over, her peripheral vision told her that he had positioned himself on his knees in the corner as instructed. Closing the door behind her, she moved to the comfortable bed and sat down on the edge with her back to James's corner.

"Crawl to me" she said in that same commanding hush as before.

She listened as James began the short crawl to her feet. His bare knees must have been digging into the carpet for close to 30 minutes now. Every little trudge of this crawl would bring fresh hot pain to his burning limbs. Maybe his thighs were even starting to cramp up. She was impressed though with the speed and rhythm of his crawling - it showed a willingness to serve her that she valued above all else. When he stopped at her feet, Charlotte brushed her hand through his soft hair before resting her hand gently on his cheek. She lifted his face up to meet her gaze.

"I want you to listen very carefully pet because I will only say this once. You know I don't like to repeat myself. Mistress has had a long day and she doesn't want to hear any words from you tonight. So no matter what I do, whether I'm being naughty or nice, you are to remain completely silent. No moans. No groans. No words. Just pure silence. Nod to show that you understand."

James instinctively gulped as if in that moment he was trying to swallow all the sounds that he might be tempted to make. He gazed upwards into his Mistress's gleaming blue-grey eyes and saw that she was apparently sincere in what she was demanding of him. But there was also a mischievousness in her look. She was laying a trap. She had trained her pet well to follow her commands but she still knew how to break him. She was laying down this challenge expecting him to fail - maybe not straight away but eventually she would tease a sound out of his lips. He would use every last grain of resolve to keep his mouth shut but he knew that eventually he would give in and it was that moment of submission that she really wanted. He nodded.

"Excellent pet!" she exclaimed with a beaming grin. "Then let's begin. Fetch me your handcuffs and my favourite flogger with the red handle."

She watched as James shuffled on the floor towards the drawer where they kept all their toys. He rummaged for a minute and returned with the desired objects.

"Good boy!" she whispered mellifluously. "Now kneel in the middle of the room with both hands behind your back."

She strode behind her pet and bent down to lock the cold metal handcuffs on his wrists behind his back. As she got up again, she gently ruffled his short, brown hair. She began walking a slow circle around her chained pet, meticulously looking over his body like a drill sergeant inspecting the troops. Even with his hands bound behind him and after all that time spent kneeling before she entered the room, he was maintaining a good posture by keeping his back pencil-straight and his hips forward with his knees shoulder-width apart. Scanning down the back of his 6'2" frame, she could still see light red marks on his taut backside, a reminder of the spanking she had given him last week.

Moving around to the side, she traced her fingers over his shoulders and biceps and felt their latent strength. She smiled thinking that for all his strength, she was the one with the power. His hips still showed traces of love-handles, a remnant from over-indulgent boozy nights in his twenties; now in his early thirties, he was in much better shape. She completed the circle round to the front and, unseen by her pet, licked her lips at the sight of his smooth pink cock dangling deliciously between his legs. Her eyes skipped upwards. He was kneeling up high with his chest pushed out, presenting himself for her. His chest and abs were strong and toned, more evidence of his recent work in the gym. She ran her fingertips over the large tattoo on his left pectoral, an underwater scene showing a gigantic slumbering sea-monster. The skin was silky smooth - he must have shaved recently, maybe even this afternoon. She traced the sharp edge of a single fingernail gently around his hard nipple and he shuddered almost imperceptibly - it lasted barely a microsecond - but she felt it.

"Oh this is going to be easy!" she thought.

She picked up the flogger from the bed where he had left it for her. She heard the leather on the warm scarlet handle creaking in her tight grip. It fitted her hand perfectly, like it had been custom-made just for her. She brushed her fingers through the many black leather tassels at the business end of the flogger. For a second she closed her eyes and allowed herself to remember all the frustrations of that day. She channeled all that frustration from her brain, down her arm, into her hand and into the flogger. She opened her eyes. This was going to be fun.

Taking aim at his smooth, shaven chest, she gave him 4 light forehand shots in quick succession. The tassels struck his chest and splayed outwards with a muffled fizzle. He took the shots well. No words. No gasps. Not even a flinch. This pleased her. She hadn't wanted him to give in just yet - she wanted to grind him down and tease a noise from him only when she willed it. She would play him like a maestro practising the flute, placing her fingers over all the right stops but not playing a tune until her moist lips graced the instrument.

She liked to use her first set of spanks to set a low bar. To make her pet think that she would be taking it easy on him. Then she would follow up with a hard shot to immediately break that expectation. And sure enough, for the next shot she lifted the flogger in her right hand over her left shoulder and venting all of her pent-up anger, she delivered a vicious backhand across his chest. There was no muffled fizzle this time; instead she heard the whistle of the flogger through the air and then a deafening crack as it impacted his chest. His mouth opened in shock but no sound escaped. She watched all the muscles in his toned chest and abs contract, release and contract again as the searing pain spread through his body. For a second, she thought he was going to lose his balance and topple helplessly backwards but he recovered his composure quickly and straightened back up ready for the next shot. He puffed out his chest again, proudly displaying the glowing red mark that had instantly appeared across his chest.

For the next 10 minutes, Charlotte worked her way around his body, alternating gentle and hard strokes so he never knew what to expect next. His left arm. Fizzle. Left hip. Crack! The back of his left thigh. Crack! Right thigh. Fizzle. Right shoulder. Crack! Crack! Crack!

By the time that she was finished, she was breathing quite heavily. She was pleased that he had kept his part of their deal and had managed to remain silent, although his posture was now starting to visibly sag. Muscles in his core and back were starting to twitch as he struggled to remain upright. He was now sat back on his heels. His hips, which had previously shown one clean line through from his knees to his shoulders, were now flexed at a 45 degree angle. She pressed her hand onto his chest where she had inflicted that first stinging backhand and felt the white-hot heat radiating from his skin. He had done well. She unlocked the cuffs and his arms dropped limply to his sides.

"Lie on the floor. Face up. Hands above your head."

He was slow to obey this request. His legs ached from being on his knees for so long. His muscles screamed. Red marks from the strongest blows all over his body were singing to him. But he moved into his new position silently and obediently. Charlotte allowed him this brief respite; it gave her an opportunity to catch her breath. When he was lying down, she moved his hands above his head to opposite sides of the bedpost and re-applied the cuffs. Standing back up, she positioned one foot either side of his chest so she was straddling him. Towering above him like a modern-day Amazonian, she said:

"You've done well so far, pet. Now I want you to watch!"

With those words of encouragement, she began to slowly and tantalisingly undress while he lay chained on the floor staring up at her. First, she removed her T-shirt and threw it blindly onto the bed. Her fire-red hair cascaded down her ivory neck and shoulders, a picture of statuesque beauty. She effortlessly unclasped her sports bra and threw it away. The soft light from the lamp caught on a metal stud in her right nipple. Gazing up from his perspective on the floor, James couldn't take his eyes away from her perfect breasts. As she stood over him, they seemed so far away but that just made him want to reach out and touch them even more. Forgetting his hands were tied, he tried to reach out and the cuffs cut into his wrists. Charlotte saw this and smiled. She was enjoying watching him worship her body with his wide reverent eyes. She moved her hands slowly over her soft breasts, caressing them gently, and down her flat, toned stomach. Her fingers playfully traced over the black lines in the geometric flower tattoo that was painted just below her chest.

Next she slipped out of her new favourite green gym leggings. She adored the way that they hugged her skin and showed off the curves of her hips and butt. Staring up unblinkingly from the carpet, James thought her long legs went on forever. His eyes wandered over her calves right up her milky white thighs. Again he involuntarily pulled at his restraints. Charlotte's smile widened. Her hand brushed the soft skin on her right thigh. That same hand then moved slowly between her legs and she began to touch herself through the sheer fabric of her tight black thong. With that first touch, her eyes opened wide looking down at her pet beneath her and she let out a long pleasurable moan as all the day's frustrations began to melt away.

For the second time that evening, James had to gulp to stop himself from making a sound. His neck was straining forward off the floor, yearning to get closer to his mistress, desperate to touch and taste her. Charlotte felt the fine material beneath her fingers getting wetter and wetter. She turned around and, still straddling her pet, bent over to peel off her thong, giving a mouth-watering view of her bum and glistening wet pussy. His resolve was wavering badly now. He was arching his back to try and get closer, pulling harder at his handcuffs, like a dog on a chain.

She knew that she was close to winning. Turning back around, she placed her left foot on his naked chest and pushed him back down gently but firmly onto the floor while keeping most of her weight on her right side. This wasn't designed to hurt him but rather to emphasise her superiority. In this position, her hand continued to slowly and delicately tease her clitoris as James looked up ravenously with eyes like dinner plates.

Sinking down onto her knees, she straddled his chest, still able to feel the heat from her earlier blows with the flogger. With a nimble hand she reached behind her and took a firm grip of his throbbing cock. She began to stroke tortuously slowly. James's mouth opened but still no sound came out. She knew he couldn't hold out much longer. Tightening her grip on his pulsing shaft, she leant forward to whisper to him, barely an inch between her lips and his ear:

"You've done so well pet. But how much more can you take? Now should I let you watch me cum? ... Or should I keep stroking until you explode? ... No ... I know what gets you off most is when I let you taste my pussy ..."

And with that she ran her warm tongue over his earlobe. Those well-chosen words and the little flick of her tongue blew away the last remnants of his willpower. His lips parted and a tiny whispered word emerged, like a tentative mouse poking its head out of a hole:

" ... Please ... "

He regretted it instantly but it was too late. He had submitted. She had heard. She had won.

"Oh dear pet," she mocked sarcastically, revelling in her victory. "It sounds like you haven't followed my instructions and you need to be taught a lesson."

She skipped over to the drawer that contained all their toys and gleefully returned with the instruments of his punishment. She had known back on the sofa that he wouldn't be able to last the challenge and had already chosen a suitable punishment. She held up a ball-gag in front of his face so he could see it.

"If you can't be trusted not to speak then I'm just going to have to gag you. But let's make sure that you don't forget this lesson ..."

Her cryptic words hung in the air. James's puzzled look amused her even more. She ran her index finger around the tip of his cock and mopped up the pre-cum that had been oozing out. His cock twitched and he let out a silent gasp at this sudden unexpected moment of pleasure. She then coated the gag with the shiny, sticky juice. She milked his still hard shaft with a vice-like grip, ensuring that she had enough to cover every inch of the little red rubber ball.

"Open."

Utterly defeated, he was determined to make up for his mistake by enthusiastically accepting his punishment. He opened his mouth greedily and she placed the dripping gag inside, before tightening the clasps behind his head so his jaw was kept wide open. His tongue was coated in the saltiness of his own pre-cum and there was no escape.

"That's not all though pet. I'm about to make myself cum ... but sadly you don't get to watch. You'll just have to lie there and listen."

She honestly thought that he was about to cry when she placed a blindfold over his eyes, tightened the strap behind his head and he was plunged into darkness. Everything was now in place for the punishment. She carefully knelt down to straddle his face, one knee either side of his ears. Looking down at the cum-soaked ball-gag and blindfold, she was satisfied with her night's work. Her little pet had done exactly as she had expected. He had put up a good fight but eventually he had to submit (as he always did) and her domination was complete. She picked up her favourite vibrator, flicked the switch and began to tease herself.

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