An Opportunity Presents Itself

I was at home on a late Tuesday morning, reading a new book that my friend Matthew had recommended. I had Chopin playing and was drinking a delightfully strong cup on Irish Breakfast tea. I recently started a business that had been successful until recently. I began this delivery service at the perfect time. The pandemic had just begun, and it was already well off of the ground. I have food delivered from local restaurants to homes. It isn't making me the next Jeff Bezos, but it's paying my expenses, which is a good start. My life outside of work has been, well, a little slow. Then, opportunity appeared.

Lucy contacted me by email and asked if I wanted to deliver her baked goods. I told her that I would like to do so, but I would need to try them first. After giving her my information, she said she would stop by tomorrow morning at 9:15. In the meantime, she sent me a menu, which I started formatting to fit my website.

I always have something to do, so I didn't pay attention when 9:15 came and went. Nor did I notice when 9:30 did the same. At 9:45 I became annoyed, and when she arrived at 9:50, I was angry in my particular way. Usually when I'm unhappy, I have little to say.

She was, however, quite attractive. Brown, stylish hair, petite, curvy body, glasses, and dressed in a black skirt, white blouse, and pretty, but functional low heels.

"Hi, there!" she bubbled.

"Hello," I said. She could tell I was annoyed. She looked down and then said quietly, "I'm sorry, I was late. My usual sitter was unavailable." I said nothing. She went on nervously, "Would you like to try my cheese cake? I have chocolate, strawberry, and coffee flavored slices."

"Please," I said. I tried each slice and they were excellent. We exchanged ideas on how I can incorporate her menu into the ones I already had on my site. She gradually worked her way toward me until she was sitting on the ottoman that was next to me. When she sat down, one of my favorite nocturnes (Op 9, number 1 in B flat minor) came on. I said nothing so I could hear the first few bars. She began talking, but I held up my hand I could hear. After I heard the section I love, I motioned for her to continue. Her voice was starting to shake as she asked me what I thought of her baking. Hence, she seemed both charming and vulnerable. It was obvious that something was agitating her. I asked, "Tell me more about your business."

I was not that interested in her business, but I wanted to distract her and put her at ease. After an uncomfortable few minutes, she baldly blurted, "I really need this to work out. Is there something I can do to make sure you take my business on your website?"

This was THE ONLY come-on I've experienced my entire life, and it should have excited me beyond belief. The problem, though, is that I, um, don't get excited by the sorts of things that excite everybody else. Yes she was arousing to look at, and her admission of her acute desire for her business to develop was exciting. The problem is that what really excites me is suffering. Ok, she bent over to pick up a sample from her bag, and yes, I looked surreptitiously at her ass, hoping to see the outline of her panties. But the thing that distracted me was the idea of solidly spanking her ass, until she weakens to the point of begging for my pity. I so very much wanted to hear her beg, and see the helpless expression she would get when she realizes that she would not be able to endure the pain I was giving her. I resolved that I would allow her business on my website; but she was going to earn that plum with a rather difficult morning.

"I am going to look you over more closely," I said.

"More closely?" she repeated.

"Yes, and listen carefully. I need to make sure you are good enough to be included on my site. Other businesses are depending on me for their reputations. Come here and stand in front of me." She rose, seemingly ambivalent. She slowly, cautiously inched over to me. I then said, annoyed, "I don't have all day." She quickly stood in front of me. I scrutinized her carefully. "Two scuff marks on your shoes. Make sure they are immaculate next time."

"I know! They'll be better next time. Like I said,-" I held up my hand and she stopped speaking. I kept looking her over and then said a little condescendingly, "Did you iron this blouse?"

'Yes." I looked sharply at her and she added, 'Sir."

"You could have ironed it better. There are wrinkles. I thought this was an important meeting for you."

She quickly perked up, "Oh, yes, I worked all night-" Again, I held up my hand and she was silent. "On your knees." She complied, though with some understandable hesitancy.. "Open your mouth." I grabbed her by the head and inspected her teeth and then each of her ears. "Next time your ears should be much cleaner. This will require punishment."

"Punishment? What do you mean!?"

"Did I ask you for your questions?"

"No, Sir."

"Did somebody else instruct you to keep interrupting me?"

"No, Sir."

"But, you keep interrupting me."

She hesitated, and then admitted, "Yes, Sir."

"You want my help and yet you are disrespectful to me." I cleared my throat, annoyed.

This seemed to worry her and she almost shouted, "But I can stop, really!"

Incredulous, I shook my head and said with disdain, "You just cannot help yourself. You seem to get some odd excitement out of being impudent."

She became animated and shrilly said, "No, Sir, really! I just wa-" I held up my hand again and she was quiet.

"Lucy. Stand up and get the roll of duct tape. It's on the counter over by the bar." I pointed to it for her. She walked unsteadily to the counter and picked up the roll and then walked back to me. I noticed that her steps became shorter as he walked closer, as if she was more cautious now.

As she walked I stood up. She stood in front of me. "Hand it to me." She started to do so and she dropped it. . "Pick it up," I said impatiently. She complied. I tore off an 8 inch piece of tape and roughly pressed it across her mouth. She looked a bit worried. I narrowed my eyes and tore off another piece and pressed it on her mouth as well, and then lightly, but contemptuously tapped her mouth with my palm. "Kneel." Again she complied. I smiled at her, feeling more and more excited that this pretty little thing was falling right into my trap. I slowly walked to the front door and locked it, and then I pulled the blinds for the room, leaving it in a sinister light, due to the overcast skies. I walked back to Lucy. Standing behind her, I felt her body, kissing her cheeks and neck and gently holding her breasts.. "Put your hands behind your neck." She did so, and I easily locked her wrists into handcuffs.

I told her resolutely, "yes, I'm going to deliver your baked goods. That's the good news.. The unfortunate news is that this service will only cost you a very entertaining morning of suffering."

She shook her head, panicked. I loved how violently her pretty hair flew around her head as she shook it. I loved how she tried already to plead with me through the tape. I smiled again, excited and aroused. "You're a pretty little lady. But you have no business begging now. You're just scared. I LOVE that you're frightened. Save your begging for when your ass is red and you realize how advantageous it is that my house is at the end of a cul de sac. There's nobody at your home now, is there?"

She shook her head. I asked, "You didn't tell anyone where you were going, did you?"

Again, she shook her head no. I smiled, and sweetly said, "I'm so pleased, Lucy. Don't move." I walked into the kitchen. My home has an open floor plan, so she was able to see me the whole time. I picked up a measuring cup, filled it with dried rice and walked back to her. I looked at her and then poured the rice onto my hardwood floor in front of her. I pointed to the rice. "Kneel there." She knelt, as I said, "The proper completion of this task requires that you kneel upon the rice and you DO NOT move or resettle yourself upon it. You will kneel until the hour glass is through. For every time you fidget or make noise, I will turn the hourglass over for another period, until you complete the task properly." I placed the five minute hour glass in front of her so that she could watch it. Almost immediately, she resettled her knees on the rice. I said, "That is one extension of your time." She frowned and again shook her head charmingly. She demonstrated better discipline after that. When the hourglass had finished, I made a show of turning it over. As she knelt, I took a picture of her with my phone, cackling with joyful derision as she quietly struggled. As she struggled, I picked up The Sympathizer and continued reading.

When her time was completed, I continued reading until I finished the page I was on. She made the most adorable unintelligible sounds as she tried to get my attention. We then came to a part of this Chopin nocturne that I truly love. The lower register of the piano is so beautiful. I held up my hand to silence Lucy. My God that man wrote beautiful music. .

Deliberately taking my time, I walked over to her and picked up the hourglass. "Get off of the rice," I instructed her. She did so with frantic haste to escape the pain, causing me to burst out laughing. I took the cuffs off of her. She would need her hands, and in any event, I wanted her to feel confused by the situation. I didn't want her to know what would happen next.

I continued, "go to the chair, and lay your body on the seat, with your ass sticking out. But wait. One thing." With no overture, I quickly pulled the tape from her mouth. She involuntarily screamed at the sudden pain, until my sharp look made her stop. She is such a sweet treasure.

By this time it was clear that she was obedient, but she was growing weary, as if she had somehow signed on for something unexpected. I leisurely lifted her skirt and caressed her cute black lace panties, and gave her ass a pleasing swat. I walked to my bedroom and found my three favorite tools of discipline and returned to Lucy. I dropped them in front of Lucy's face. They included a short, black spanking toy vaguely shaped like a Celtic Knot, a conductor's baton, and a many-tailed leather flogger. "Choose which one that I will use on you," I said.

She said in a low, timorous voice, "The white one, please." I wasn't surprised that she chose that one. It looks harmless, just a cork grip attached to a light fiberglass rod. But, its thin diameter means that its striking power would be concentrated on a very narrow part of her pretty flesh. I smiled at her, happy that everything was falling into place.

I said, " Hop up here onto the ottoman and get on your hands and knees. I prefer that angle." As she did so, I picked up the baton and swished it a few times in the air, as its sound is rather unsettling. Once she was in her proper position, I swatted her firmly on her pretty ass, eliciting a short shout in her, seeming more the result of surprise than pain. I used the baton as a probe, touching her with invasive affection on her cheeks, her neck, her nipples, and everywhere else that I wanted to feel used. She amused me by defiantly putting her hands over her behind, to protect it, I supposed.

"Move your hands, Lucy," I said mildly. She hesitated a second before moving them. I moved in front of her. I looked down at her and said, "you would like to please me, wouldn't you?" She immediately reached for my belt buckle. I reached around her and gave her a second sound swat on her ass. She pouted and looked hurt. "Did I instruct you to touch me?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Answer the question you were asked."

"No Sir, but I thought you-" I cut her off with another swat on her behind. The music had changed movements. This was presto (rapid) and it had a dramatic timpani part, which inspired me to swat her ass to emulate it. There were a total of six beats, and I hit her butt on each beat, increasing how hard I hit her with each blow, just as the music did so.

I noticed, though, that her breathing had sped up. I wanted her to be agitated, not upset. I caressed her ass, feeling the marks that already were rising on her skin. I reached into her panties and I opened her cunt, caressing the outer lips, opening them gently but widely, exposing her. I slid the first two fingers of each of my hands into her dripping hole, smoothly and deeply fucking her. I heard her quietly plead, "Please,"

"Why are you saying, "please? What are you asking for?"

"Please, fuck me."

"No."

"PLEASE!"

"No. Nor is it your place to raise your voice to me, or to attempt to insist upon anything." Irritated, I withdrew my hands from enjoying her sopping cunt and gave her two hard whacks with the baton. She cried out, seemingly angry. I firmly but slowly pulled her up by her hair, so that she was kneeling on top of the ottoman. I put my hands on her breasts, and held them, pinching and teasing her nipples with my fingers. I asked, "Do you have something to say? I suggest you pick your words carefully."

"Yes. Please, please fuck me Sir!"

"No. You already asked that and I said no. I decide if, when, and how you get fucked. I really don't believe you may deserve any pleasure right now. I enjoy hurting you way too much." I paused, giving her tiny pinches everywhere on her ass, cunt, and thighs. I keep my nails fairly long, so I can make such pinches frustratingly painful and seemingly unending. She cried out and pleaded for pity. I showed her none, and gave her even more tiny, painful pinches. When I was finished, I gave her another good swat with my hand, as if it were an exclamation point.

I then said disdainfully told her, "I asked before If you wanted to please me, and you behaved like a whore and attempted to have YOUR way with me. I enjoy controlling and using you how I please." I pushed her back face down on the ottoman and smacked her behind with my hand. She cried out. I smacked her pretty ass again, noticing that she had two crimson handprints on her butt. I marveled at how beautiful the prints looked upon her ass. I asked "Do you want to please me?"

"YES! Please!"

"Do you see that black ball on the table by the window?"

"Yes." I smacked her behind again, harder than before, and she added, "Sir."

"Get off of the ottoman, crawl over to the table and grab the ball with your teeth, bring it to me and drop it at my feet. Then put your head to the floor."

There was a moment's sweet hesitancy, and then she slid off of the ottoman and hastily crawled to the table. I was pleased and excited that she followed my instructions perfectly. I said," I'm enormously pleased. Now get up on your knees and tightly gag yourself and then put your face back onto the floor." Again, she did as she was told. I got on my knees behind her and opened her ass up widely. I absolutely love the feeling of teasing, licking, and penetrating someone's tiny hole. It is so sensitive, vulnerable, and pretty. I fingered, licked and spit into her pretty anus, gradually opening it up. As I fucked her little hole with my tongue, I touched her clitoris, feeling her little hole tighten on my tongue as she grew more excited. I continued to do so until she was on the edge of orgasm. I stopped. I pulled the chair closer to her, sat down, and placed my feet on her kneeling body. I continued reading The Sympathizer.

"I'll let you know when you may rise, Lucy."