Kneeling

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An evening at home for you and your slave.
5.8k words
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I am kneeling at the foot of the stairs when You come home, naked, hands behind my back, waiting for You. I wait, head down, for You to acknowledge me. You look around the house, spotlessly clean, and test the air with your sensitive nose. You can smell the dinner in the kitchen, the aroma of baking from earlier, and a sweet raspberry fragrance, Your favorite scent, rising from me.

Finally, I feel the touch of Your strong hand on my head and Your voice whispers "Good girl." I smile but still do lift my head until I see Your briefcase and coat held in front of me. "Thank you, Master, " I say and slowly stand to carry both objects to the nearby closet, where the coat is hung and the briefcase stashed before I softly close the door and return to my former position on the floor, kneeling, head down, hands demurely behind me. "What is your pleasure, Master?" My eyes follow the crease in Your trousers to your knees, where my vision lingers.

"When is dinner ready, My pet?"

My pet! You really are happy with me today! "One hour, Master."

"Perfect," You say and gently place one hand on my head. There is a moment of absolute quiet while You look around, quietly contemplating my days' accomplishments. The hand on my head moves slowly in my hair and I can feel myself growing wet at Your affection.

Suddenly, Your hand twines in my hair, wrapping itself tightly and You use this leverage to bring me up from the relaxed posture I had taken. A gasp escapes from my lips.

"Were you seeking a reward, pet?" You ask softly, menacingly.

"No Master, I seek only to please You."

"Good girl," You say, and Your hand tightens even more. "Do you think you deserve a reward, pet?"

"No Master. My reward is making You happy." The pain is exciting me, as You knew it would, and I can feel the wetness dripping down my open thighs.

Your voice drops a little and I hear a tiny growl. Your hand releases my hair and strokes the side of my neck. Such tenderness. My need grows worse, but I do not so much as whimper. "Do you know what day it is, Beth?" I gasp and nearly look up. You have only used that name once since I was collared. And then it was out of anger.

"Yes Master." I am near tears. I had feared You had forgotten.

"Well, Beth?" Again, my name, said so sweetly that I nearly cry. My voice wavers as I reply.

"It is the anniversary of my collaring, Master."

"Good girl." Your hand slides under my chin and You tilt my head up, although I slide my eyes away. "Look at me, Beth," You growl and my eyes meet Yours for the first time in months.

"As you said, Beth, it is the one year anniversary of your collaring." The hand not holding my chin slides down to the edge of my leather collar, removed only once weekly during the past year to go to the grocery store. "And tonight," You say, looking deep into my eyes, "I consider this part of your training complete. Tonight," Your hand tilts my head down and I can feel Your hand at the back of my neck, undoing the collar. "I would like you to walk as My equal." I am staring my collar in Your hand, my neck feeling so very vulnerable, and I simply cannot believe what I just heard. I kneel before You in stupefied silence, and it becomes even more profound as your precious face appears before me. You are kneeling! I open my mouth to protest and You place a single finger over my lips to shush me, just as you did when I was first collared. "I said, this part of your training. You know your role. You are an excellent pet." Your hand drops from my lips to my hand. "But being a pet is not all you are worth. It is time you learned to be something… more." You smile and kiss my hand. Slowly, You stand, my hand still in Your grasp.

"Now, Beth, as you Master, I say, stand and look me in the eye. Allow me to hold you as an equal." You help me up by my hand, and I stand on shaking legs, still reluctant to raise my face to You.

You laugh softly and lean over to kiss me. Your lips meet mine and I am so terrified of doing something wrong, of displeasing You, that I can barely kiss You back. Unperturbed, you pull my trembling body close to Yours and wrap my arms around Your waist, kissing me deeper as I slowly start to respond. I can feel salty tears flowing down my cheeks.

"Shh, my sweet," You whisper into my neck, and I can feel Your breath on the skin where the collar was. If I turn my head a little, I can see that discarded strip of leather on the ground. "Shh. I never said that part of our relationship was over. Things will still be the same, when we want them to be. But I have known you for a year as a pet and a slave. I want to know you now as a woman."

You step back and look at me. "And this will never do," You say, and proceed to pull me up the stairs, to Your bedroom. I have to hold tight to Your hand and the railing for fear my legs will collapse. Gently, You sit me on the edge of the bed nearest the door, and sit next to me. "Are you ready for a surprise?" You ask, kissing the side of my neck again.

My eyes widen. Another surprise? As if the last half an hour hadn't held more than it's share. Standing, You move to Your dresser and open the top drawer. You withdraw a green silk bra and a matching pair of panties, then move onto the next drawer, pulling out a pair of jeans and a lovely green sweater. Clothes? I break into fresh tears and throw myself at Your feet. "Master," my voice is anguished, hot tears pouring down my face, "Doesn't my body please You any more?" I have only worn clothes once a week in the past year, on those same hateful days I had to remove my collar and go out to the store.

You laugh again and lean over to pick me up, standing me on my own two feet and once more stroking my face softly. Your other hand gently follows the curves of my body, relishing the smell and feel of me. "First," You say, "It is no longer Master unless I give the signal. Second," You tweak one of my already-erect nipples, "your body please Me very much, always has and always will. But you are mine, and I want to take you places. You need clothes for that, because I do not want other men's eyes on this lovely skin." One of Your hands grabs the panties off the dresser and dangles them in front of my face. "Consider them another form of collaring, if it makes it easier. Consider these clothes I bought you to be My mark and wear them with pride, as you did My collar."

You kneel before me and lift each of my feet into the legs of the panties, pulling them slowly up over my soft skin to my thighs. The silk feels strange between my legs, sliding up softly against my dripping cunt. Your hand follows them up to snug them against me, Your fingers lingering teasingly and then moving on to arrange the panties on my hips. You step back to admire Your handiwork and I stand there in a state of high tension. Not only am I terrified, I am conflicted between my need to throw myself at Your feet and beg for sex and my suddenly powerful urge to walk up to You as an equal, kiss You, as an equal, and take You to bed. As an equal.

But instead of giving me the time to do any of these things, You grab the bra off the dresser and come forward, lifting each of my arms into the straps and pushing the cups up tight against my breasts as You snap the bra in front. You smile serenely at me and kiss me again. "You're going to have to learn to do all this for yourself again, you know." I just nod my head dumbly. All these accoutrements used to feel right at home on me. Now they feel tighter and more restraining than I could ever imagine the collar or bonds feeling. You adjust the straps over my shoulders, smiling slyly at me. "You are so beautiful. So, so very beautiful, and so Mine."

Next come the jeans, stiff fabric jarring the sensitized skin of my legs. They fit perfectly. How could You have known? But then, of course, no one knows my body like You do. You dress me like a doll, carefully and meticulously. You slide the sweater over my head and smooth it to my body, undoing a top button, so some of the cleavage shows. Then, You lead me back to the bed and set me down. Going to the bathroom, You produce a brush and move over to sit behind me on the bed, pulling me close and whispering to me about love and lust and all the stages in between while You gently brush my hair. Finally, You stand and produce a new pair of expensive flats, which You slip onto my feet. I am fully dressed for the first time in a year. Even those times at the supermarket I only wore a slip over dress and pair of cheap shoes. No bra, no panties. I feel out of place in these things. But I want so much to please You, even if this is only a whim, I will go along.

I still feel the need to serve and I know that dinner must be almost done, so I request Your permission to go downstairs. I step away from the edge of the bed and move down the hall, the fabric rubbing my skin warmly, chafing softly So strange to walk down these halls, not crawl, to stand upright and wear clothes. In the downstairs and when I am cleaning up here, I can stand. When called for. But now I am standing, walking and You are following me, watching my ass sway in the new jeans, the way the sweater clings to my skin. I step uncertainly down the stairs, certain the shoes will make me fall, flat as they are. But somehow I make it down and into the kitchen, where my pot roast is perfection and the table is already set.

You let me putter around the kitchen, knowing this servile task will calm my nerves, watching me move in the unfamiliar clothes. Your eyes seem more glued to me now then when I had been naked. I keep catching Your eye and turning before You can see the smile on my face. I walk over to the table with Your plate, setting it carefully down in front of You as I have always done. "Your dinner Mas-" I catch myself, and catch a look from You. It is a pleading look not like the stern ones that meant I was going to get it if I didn't obey, I was going to be punished. This is a look of need, from You, my Master! I do not know how to deal with this. Frankly, it frightens me more than the anger.

I settle down to my customary place at Your feet with my plate and feel a small tug at my hair. I look up. "Beth," You give me the stern look. "Up to the table, please." I blush and stand up. I was so used to settling on the floor at Your feet, I did not even realize that I belong at the table now. There are going to be so many things to get used to again. I sit across from You and You smile at me over Your plate, Your glass of Chablis. You actually look proud of me.

Peering nervously down into my plate, I hope the food will just go away, because I am too nervous to eat. I see a hand in my peripheral vision, Your hand, held out to me. Placing my own in it, I look nervously up at Your face. Your eyes soothe me, and Your voice comes out in a low rumble. "Beth, I know you cannot possibly understand what all this is about right now. Give it time, it will sink in. But for now, just understand that by finding yourself again, you are pleasing Me. That is what you want, is it not?"

I smile shyly and whisper "yes, M-" and catch myself once again. The tears return. "I'm sorry, Master I just cannot bring myself to call You by the familiar name." I pull my hands away from Your s and bring them up to cover my face. I cannot look at You. Your hand touches the back of my head in the old signal of affection, and my sobbing subsides, although I still cannot move my hands from my face. Strong fingers wrap around my wrists and my hands are pulled from my face, pinned in my lap, and Your hand locks onto the back of my hair. You force my eyes to meet Yours.

"Beth, you are Mine, and will always be Mine. Understand that." I try to smile through my tears. "However, now I want a woman, not a slave. You were very strong willed when you came to Me. I want you to find that strength again. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Me. Can you do that?"

" I can try."

A soft smile blesses me. "Good. Now, I want you to look at Me and say My name."

The hand in the back of my hair tightens, and I know I must obey, so even though this feels so much like disobedience, I look into Your eyes and say in the clearest, strongest voice I can muster, "yes, William." A beatific smile breaks across Your face and You release my hair and lean down to kiss me. Then You move back around to Your side of the table. "That wasn't so difficult, was it Beth?" You smile across the table at me again and set about finishing Your pot-roast. I sit and stare at You, at my plate, at the world from this different perspective of above the table.

My mind is spinning. Does this mean freedom? Does this mean no more punishments for having my own opinion, my own wants? Does this mean that it is time for me to get to know the man across from me as another human being and not some god-like creature? You are so handsome in the candlelight, sipping Chablis, glancing up occasionally and smiling benignly. I want this. I want to be able to look into Your eyes whenever I feel the need. I want to be able to tell You whenever I feel the need how much I adore You. Does this mean that after all my work is done I can be sitting on the couch, reading a book when You get home? I have missed that so much. Is this really what You want? Is this really what I need to do to make You happy?

Finally, I cannot take it anymore. I stand and walk around to Your side of the table, gently place my hands on Your shoulders. One of Your hands comes up to cover mine and I lean over to whisper in your ear "Thank you, William."

"For what, Beth?"

"For loving me. This is the best reward any Master could ever give."

You turn in your chair to peer into my eyes. "It is the reward you deserve, Beth. And it is not only reward for you. It is reward for Me as well. For teaching you so well. I want someone I take out and show off. I want someone who is elegant and beautiful, and who I can bring home and do as I wish with." I feel a tingle in my pussy at this last. "I want someone I can talk to. I know you are intelligent. I would never have collared you otherwise, and it drove Me crazy to suppress that for the last year. But you needed to learn. You still need to learn, and you will." Your hand tightens on mine. "But I want to be able to talk to you afterwards. During. I want to be able to take you out and sit at a nice dinner and not have you afraid that you will do something to merit punishment when we return home." My hand is brought up to Your lips and You kiss the palm tenderly. A thrill races through me. "There will still be plenty of punishments, I assure you, because we both enjoy them so much. " You turn to take one more sip of Your wine and then stand to face me. "But now you will have a say in our lives." You step closer and Your hands slide up under the back of my sweater, pulling me to You.

"Now," You say, looking deeply into my eyes. "Do you think you can handle being my lover as well as my pet?"

I smile and lean into You, nuzzling Your neck. "Yes, William." The name falls more naturally from my lips now. "Yes, I think I can."

"Good," You run Your hands a little farther up my back, to the bottom of the bra. Your hands slide under it, pressing closer into my skin. "Now that I have you fully dressed, how would you feel about getting naked again?" I lift my head off Your shoulder and smile at You, moving my hands from Your waist and grabbing the hem of my sweater, looking at You questioningly. You nod, Your eyes sparkling a little, more than happy to watch me do a strip tease, removing the clothing You had so carefully placed on my body. As step away from you and pull the sweater up over my head, I realize something wonderful. I can tease again. I can do as I wish to excite You.

I do some of the moves I remembered from long ago, the bellydancer moves which had attracted You to me in the first place. The dance of the Seven Veils reenacted using a sweater and bra. You grin as Your eyes follow my lithe figure around the room. I strip from the waist up, the bra and sweater carefully placed over the back of a chair. I move up to You, smiling a sweet, beguiling smile, and lean over to kiss Your neck, placing my hands on Your chest. Dancing around You, I run my hands over Your body freely, my nails catching lightly on the cloth of Your shirt, until I am behind You, pulling You into my half naked body and wrapping my arms around You. Carefully, slowly, I begin to undo Your shirt, button after button popping free. I run my hand over the coarse hairs on Your chest, feeling so empowered. Your hand comes up and covers one of mine, dragging it down to the top of Your belt. I kiss my way around Your front, kneeling in front of You, one hand still on the buckle of Your belt. I undo it as You had undone my collar earlier. Pulling it free from the loops, I drape it over my neck, reluctant to let anything of Yours touch the floor. Then I lean over and carefully bite the top flap of your pants, pulling it out and away from Your body, causing that one last button to slip free and the zipper slides easily down. Your hands are playing in my hair, the movement of my hair and my body causing the stiff leather to rub against my chest, my nipples growing harder at the touch. My hands move up and grasp your trousers and the tops of your boxers, maneuvering both items of clothing out over your tremendously stiff cock and down your body, where they puddle around your shoes.

I bend a little farther and place kisses on your calves as I untie first one shoe, then the next, removing them and your socks, your pants and your boxers. Then You are standing naked before me, naked from the waist down, I naked from the waist up, the leather of the belt still drawing lines over my breasts, catching on the rings and stiffening my nipples as I lean over and flick my pierced tongue over the head of your cock. My arms trail up to your stomach as I pull you deep into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat. Then I feel you reach down and grab the belt, removing it from my neck and sliding it down under both my arms. The leather cuts into my skin as You force me to crawl forward on my knees, Your hot cock still buried deep in my throat. You sit in the chair nearest Your glass of wine and pull the belt from under my arms, doubling it up in Your hand. Placing this same hand lightly on my head, You gently remind me that you still have control. I can feel the leather rubbing over my shoulders, Your hand playing with strands of my hair as You quietly sit and sip Your Chablis, watching my head move up and down on You, my body shudder.

I hear the glass chime on the table and see Your hand reach down toward my breasts. The first tug is gentle. They get successively harder until my whole body is shaking and I am swallowing convulsively against the head of Your cock. It grows stiffer in my mouth and begins to twitch. I pull back, gasping as my mouth is freed and You give a final tug to the ring. Then Your hand comes up and twines in my hair, the other one holding the belt bringing the leather down in a single hard strike to my jean-clad ass. I moan aloud as You clench my hair in Your fist, pulling my face up to Yours for a long, hard, deep kiss.

Your mouth draws back from mine, Your hand releases my hair and You stare deep into my eyes. "Stand," You growl, "and strip for me." Smiling, I stand and turn my back to you, undoing the jeans and bending over at the waist to remove first the pants, then the panties. A growl emanates from You. "You little tease," I hear You murmur and I feel You grab my hips and pull me back to You. Roughly turning me, You open Your legs and pull me between them, so my breasts are right before Your face. "Do you like to tease, Beth?" That same growl that always sends shivers through me and makes me want to cum, just hearing it.

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