A Precious Gift

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Early in the day, I received a text from you: "Our room. Naked. 6:00 p.m." I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but knew that since I am yours, whatever you wished would bring me joy and pleasure, your satisfaction paramount to me.

I drove home from a long day at the office and found the house quiet and dark. It was peaceful, relaxing, and I felt the frustrations of the office peeling away as I walked to our room. I slowly slid off my skirt as I entered the room, tossing it over the back of a chair. The shoes were kicked off without a care for where they landed. It was one of the rare days where I felt like wearing panties. They matched the thigh high black lace topped stockings. I eased out of my suit coat, then my blouse, tossing each aside with equal lack of care. The bed beckoned for multiple reasons: the tantalization of being drawn into your web; as well as a need to just lay down and rest.

I noted it was only 5:30 and felt there was time for a few minute's rest before I needed to finish preparing for you. I laid down, wearing nothing but my stockings, bra and panties, curled on my side. Without realizing it, I was soon fast asleep.

I dreamed of you, my unconscious mind playing with ideas, both of things you've done and things you've yet to do. But I was pulled out of the delightful journey when I felt your fingers twine into my hair. As you tugged, you leaned in and I could feel your hot breath on my ear before I opened my eyes.

"The instructions were simple. Naked. And yet you are laid out here, dressed like a whore. Disregard of my instructions bring consequences, don't they?" you hissed as you pulled my head back, exposing my neck. You punctuated your meaning by sharply biting my shoulder.

With my eyes still closed, my head held tightly in your grip, I whispered. "Please, I didn't mean to fail you. Please don't punish me, my kind sir."

"I...will...do...as...I...please," you growled back at me, shaking my head with each word for emphasis.

All I whispered was, "Please." We both wondered if I was inviting the punishment or returning to the hope that you not take umbrage at this infraction.

"Stand." The command, a simple word chilling my skin. The authority in your voice triggering my fear response that can also be so delicious, relishing the adrenaline flooding my body, but rationally, in a small recess of my mind, knowing I was in the safety and security with which you protect me.

"Walk to the closet and retrieve the crop." Willingly, belying my earlier protest, I did as you asked. I wanted nothing more than to please you and upon my return, I fell to my knees, raising the crop up to present it to you, head bowed in supplication.

"To the center of the bed, kneel, feet toward the foot of the bed," you snapped, grabbing the crop with one hand, and my hair with the other, as you pulled me bodily up. I scrambled to comply. I wasn't quick enough and felt the light lash of the crop against the bottom of my stockinged feet as I moved into position.

With an unspoken command, born of knowing both our desires, my arms immediately went to the small of my back, bound together by my own volition, hands grasping the opposing forearms, my own desire to bring you nothing but pleasure, my need to please you in every possible way compelling the delicious surrender to you. You walked around to the other side of the bed. I felt your eyes scrutinizing me.

"Who do you belong to?" you said as the crop lightly fell against my ass.

My ass flexed at the blow. "You. I am yours." I shuddered slightly from the brief, fleeting pain.

"Tell me one of the basic things being mine means," the power in your voice consuming my mind. The crop trailed across the curve of my ass, tracing the outline of my panties, the swell of my cheeks, the curve of my hip, the contours of my thighs.

My skin prickled at the tickling of the crop, and I whispered, "I have given myself to you, to use as you wish. It is your right and privilege to take me in whatever you want."

"Did you interfere with my wishes?" you asked, lightly striking my ass.

"Yes, sir. But it was a minor thing, please, please no more," I pleaded. My nipples became obviously hard, even through the bra, my body giving away my true desire.

"And now you presume to direct my actions." I suddenly felt the crop come down three times in quick succession on my ass, each blow increasing in power. You quickly struck another three blows across the back of my stockinged thighs, with enough force that for the next few days I would be sweetly reminded of your power, your authority, your strength every time I sat down.

You then laid the crop on the bed in front of me. "Eyes to the crop. Think about your behavior and what's to come because you could not follow a simple request."

I looked carefully at this instrument of pleasure, wielded with your power and strength. As I contemplated what you might do to my body, I felt you reach between my legs and slowly unroll the stocking off one thigh. Balancing on one knee, I stretched my leg out to the side so that you could remove it completely before you stripped the other leg as well. I immediately returned to a kneeling position, as you slowly walked around the room, stretching the moments out, knowing my mind was squirming at the thought of the crop before me.

Feeling something metallic sliding in just above my ankles, you forced me to move my knees further apart. Soon, my ankles were bound to a spreader bar. I balanced carefully, in a kneeling position, eyes on the crop, mind still whirling with all that you would do; knowing whatever was to come was your right and your privilege.

I felt you unhooking the back of my bra, removing it and releasing my bound hands with a mere touch. As I breathed in quickly, you stripped my breasts bare and picked up the crop. Understanding what was to come, I couldn't help but look to your eyes and plead, "No, please, no." My arms were again quickly bound by the force of your will, behind my back.

Your face transformed from stern to something more powerful, a primal, animalistic urge coming to your eyes, clear for me to see, clear for me to feel your control sweeping over me. It was as if you relished my helplessness, my pleading eyes, my naked breasts, my bound legs, my arms bound behind my back with nothing more than a thought. You whisked the crop through the air, off to the side of the bed, the snap reverberating in the room. My nipples grew instantly hard.

Noting my response, you immediately struck my breasts with the crop, a slight smile coming over your face as I inhaled sharply and arched my back into the pain. Again, you struck a blow, landing the tip on my nipple. And again to the other breast. Five more blows in quick succession. I cried out.

"Remain...quiet...slut," you punctuated with each of the next three blows. My mind, centered on only pleasing you, held back any vocal responses. But I could not hold back my physical responses. My breathing quickened, my skin prickled more, blood rushed to the marks you had laid out on my breasts, my nipples remained hard, a sweet oblivious smile that comes over me at the height of pleasurable pain washed over my face. You relished every unconscious response, realizing they were triggered solely by your power over me.

You returned the crop to the bed, laying it just in front of me again. Remembering your earlier command, my eyes went to it. Momentarily, I felt something cold, sharp, and metallic against my hip bone as you cut away my panties. My hands squeezed the opposing forearms grasped in my bound position, the only outward sign of the fear triggered by the knife in your hand. You moved to the other side of the bed and cut the other hip of my panties, roughly pulling the lace against my clit as you removed them.

Drawing the panties between your fingers, toying with them, you commented, "You are awfully wet for a disobedient slut, aren't you?"

A delightful type of shame flooded my mind, knowing my body responds to you, unconsciously hearing your call and not caring if "polite society" would approve. The pleasurable shame of you knowing every dark corner of my mind, identifying those hidden parts of me, calling me by true names that only you are privileged to know. The shame was quickly replaced with joy at hearing the pleasure in your voice.

"I am your slut, sir, needing of your loving punishment."

Your hand went to my throat and I felt your other on my back, pushing me forward. Fighting to maintain my balance, keeping my arms bound, while being folded forward, I surrendered into your hands, my breathing momentarily stifled as the hand around my neck bore weight until my face was to the bed.

"Hands between your legs, whore," you whispered roughly into my ear, your hand holding my neck to the bed, pinning me. I instantly complied, reaching through my knees and finding straps on the spreader bar, just where my wrists landed.

You released my neck and moved around behind me to strap my wrists to the spreader bar. Caressing my ass, bound in the air, naked to your every scrutiny, there for you to use in whatever way you needed, you smiled. I was completely helpless, made entirely yours, surrendered willingly to you, needing you to take me in whatever way you saw fit. As you buckled my wrists into place, you could smell how wet I had become. My breathing was ragged.

My face was turned, nearly laying on top of the crop. You picked it up slowly, trailing the tip, seeing my eyes follow it. You smiled, relishing the fact every emotion is played out in my eyes, seeing the fear, the need, the hunger all coming over me. I licked my lips as you drew the tip across my shoulder, trailed it down my spine, tracing the line to my ass.

"Eyes closed, whore. Why am I going to whip you?" you asked while continuing to trail the tip of the crop over the contours of my body.

"Because it is your right."

"True. Tell me more," the crop tip now tickling the bottom of my feet.

"Because my body is yours to use."

Your first response was to bring the crop down, forcefully, across my ass. "More, bitch. You know what I want to hear. Say the words."

"Because I am your disobedient slut."

You said nothing, but struck my back with the crop, briskly, just a few blows. I understood your unspoken wish, but had to fight with myself to bring the words out for you.

"Because I am your willful whore."

Each of my words were punctuated by your power over me, blows moving to my ass, alternating cheeks, welts rising up in response. I began sliding away from reality, toward oblivion and had no idea how many blows landed.

"Because I am your fuck toy to use as you wish."

With more blows from you, sighs escaped my mouth, tears pricked in my eyes at the same time the overwhelming ether pulled me into the rolling nothingness of the pain and pleasure all from you.

"Because I am your cunt."

I felt a burning on my ass building, as your blows moved to my back, striking, hitting, hard, repeatedly, laying your mark upon me, making me fully and completely yours.

"Because it is your desire to punish me."

You continued raining blows on my back, as your other hand roughly grabbed my ass, squeezing the marks you had just placed there. My mind exploding with incomprehension as I slipped to that place where all reason is gone, where I do not exist and there is only you and your authority, completely, willingly, joyfully, deliciously, surrendered to you and your will.

Only one thought came to me in the symphony you triggered in my mind, as more blows struck my body.

"Because you love me."

As the last blows landed on my body, my mind unable to follow their placement, but feeling the sweet sting of each blow, I repeated "Yours" until oblivion took me away and I was unable to speak.

Incomprehension remained with me. Nothing but you and the glorious pleasure you were giving me existed in my mind, for how long I cannot say. It joyfully felt like an eternity. You reeled me slowly back into reality with the gentle caresses to my back and my ass, feeling a cool, soothing lotion you were lovingly applying, while you whispered, "I love you. You bring me so much joy."

As you released me from the spreader bar, I knew our night had just begun but that the punishment was over. Tears quickened to my eyes as I realized you gave me a most precious gift: the force and control of your will, taking me to that delicious, glorious oblivion where only pleasure and you exist. I endeavored the rest of the night to bring you to that place as well.