Lonely No More

"Such a pretty kitty, with a nice, warm red ass," Master said in a singsong voice, slapping me once more across my ass, for good measure. I heard something hit the floor behind him, then cried out in fear and surprise as the riding crop landed, full force, across the center of my back. Whimpering, I was left barely enough time to get my breath before the next whip of the crop landed across my back; first, though, he switched the butterfly back on. I let out a long cry that was half a whimper of pain and half a moan of pleasure. I writhed in pleasure as the butterfly buzzed against my clit, and screamed in pain as Master beat me with the riding crop. I thought I would cry, though whether it was from pain, pleasure, or simple torment I couldn't say. He'd never brought me to tears before, and honestly I knew I could hold out a lot longer. But at the rate he was going...it looked like tonight was the night he'd finally succeed. I could only imagine the welts that he was raising on my back; or at least, I would be imagining them if I was capable of a single coherent thought at that point.

Suddenly, my body started to build the electricity across my skin that said I was about to come. No! I cried silently. I couldn't come, no no no, not without permission, please no...but there was not stopping it. I whimpered as the pleasure built, and when I could take the torment no longer, gave in to the ecstasy as my body rocked with orgasm. Master stopped. He stopped hitting me with the crop, he turned off the vibrator. He stopped touching me altogether. I lay panting, alone, and terrified. I had done the one thing I always tried my best to never do; I had come for myself. I had forgotten my pleasure belonged to my Master and I gave in to it for my own sake. I was almost to ashamed to be scared of the punishment I knew I'd get. I just hoped he wouldn't be cruel enough to send me home for the night.

After what felt like an eternity without contact, Master pulled the gag down off of my mouth.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm so sorry, sir."

"Sorry for what?" All terms of endearment were gone. He was serious.

"For coming without permission, sir."

"Who do your orgasms belong to?"

"To you, sir."

"Then why did you just come without my permitting it?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I lost control." My voice took on an edge that suggested I was near tears, and truthfully I thought I might cry at any moment.

Master must have heard the pain in my voice, because he kissed me gently on the mouth and said, "I forgive you, my love. But you need to learn to control yourself."

"Yes, sir," I whispered, inexpressibly grateful for his forgiveness.

"And you know, even though I forgive you, I can't let you get away with that without punishment."

"Yes, sir."

"And you know what the punishment for coming without permission is, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Get up on your knees baby," he said softly, putting one hand under my hips to help me lift myself up until my ass was in the air so high it exposed my pussy, still wet with my come. "If I were a crueler man," Master continued, in the same soft tone, "I'd use that riding crop on that poor pussy of yours. But I just can't be that heartless of a Master. I'm gonna make you count for me, though, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." With that, he spanked my pussy, hard but not as hard as he could; he knows how sensitive that is, and he knows that pain there is not a pain I enjoy. It's reserved for punishment purposes; when my pussy gets spanked I know I've been truly bad.

"One," I gasped out.

Smack! "Two."

Smack! "Three."

Smack! This one harder, making me cry out and whimper, barely choking out the word "Four."

And the final Smack!, drawing another cry from me that faded to the final, "Five."

"What a good kitty, taking her punishment so well." Master gently stroked my burning pussy, and kissed my cheek before putting my gag back on. The next thing I felt was the ropes around my legs being tugged at. Carefully, without knocking me over from my position on my knees, Master untied my legs and briefly massaged my calves and spread my legs apart, then pulled the butterfly off over my feet.

I felt nothing for a brief moment as I heard the rope and the vibrator hitting the carpet, then I felt the cool, relieving touch of my Master's tongue on my aching cunt. I sighed quietly as his tongue ran over my slit, sucking my clit into his mouth and kissing the insides of my thighs. Master licked my pussy gently, lovingly, erasing all the pain he had just inflicted on it, and I moaned softly through the gag, almost purring as he stroked me with his tongue. This was better than making me come; this was taking away all my pain.

"Oh, my sweet baby." He spoke softly, but without the menace of before. "I'm going to make love to you, beautiful kitty."

Gentle and loving, or a violent fucking, I knew I had no choice and had resigned myself to take whatever he chose to give me; he seemed to read my heart, though, and chose to lay me down and make gentle love to me from behind, bringing me to my first orgasm slowly, with gentle urgings. I had nothing to be afraid of when he whispered "Come for me baby," into my ear; and I did, quietly but wholeheartedly, and after the first orgasm started to press back against his cock, urging my Master to take me harder, faster. He took a few more slow, deliberate strokes, just to remind me who owned whom, then took the cue and picked up his pace, pushing his cock deeper into me, taking me harder and making me moan with pleasure. With a little laugh Master said "Yes, my little slave girl likes to get fucked, doesn't she?" I moaned and pressed myself against his cock even harder in response. "Little slave girl's gonna come again soon, isn't she?" I moaned and nodded. He slammed his cock into me, deep as he could, and my body was rushing toward a second orgasm. "Come for me. Now." I cried out in pleasure, hearing the volume of my own voice despite the gag as I came on his cock; I panted and whimpered as another orgasm rode the crest of the previous one. Hearing my need, Master ordered, "Come again, baby. Come for me as many times as you can." I screamed and tensed as I came again, and again; the fifth time I came, Master came with me, flooding me with his cum, both our bodies tensing and exploding with pleasure, then collapsing together in exhaustion.

Master lay on top of me, and whispered in my ear, "That was wonderful, baby." He pulled off the blindfold and turned my head so he could look into my eyes. I smiled up at him and he kissed my forehead. "My beautiful blue-eyed angel."

Climbing up, Master removed my gag, kissing me passionately, our tongues intertwining. I stopped, pulled away. "Master, I want to hold you," I implored, looking up at the bonds on my wrists.

"Of course, love." He detached the cuffs from the posts, though leaving them on my wrists. I rolled over to face my Master and threw my arms around his neck, pressing a loving and needy kiss to his lips. "My pretty girl," Master whispered, brushing my hair from my face. Taking my lead in his hand, he pulled me up to a sitting position. "Let's get you cleaned up, beautiful." He pulled me by the lead into the bathroom. Removing the cuffs from my wrists, he cleaned the sweat and fluids off of my skin. I stood patiently, basking in the lovingness with which he performed this act. When I was clean he quickly toweled himself off, and took out a fresh pair of cuffs, these made of soft fur, and velcroed them to my wrists. Taking of the lead, he said "These cuffs are for you to sleep in tonight. I didn't want anything abrasive on you, then you'd never get any slep."

I smiled. "Thank you, sir."

He kissed my forehead. "Anything for my kitty."

Removing the lead from my collar, he led me by the hand back to bed. Pulling back the blankets, he laid me down in the soft bed, then took my hands and moved them to my chest. He clipped one wrist to each of the two D-rings on my collar, and rolled me onto my side so I was facing the edge of the bed.

"Is that comfy baby?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Master kissed me, gently, but passionately, breathing in my essence and letting me breathe in his. He stroked my hair and then went to the other side of the bed, climbing in behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. Kissing my shoulder, he whispered, "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Master." I curled up in my Master's arms, feeling loved and safe in his arms and under his power. I embraced the bonds he gave me, because they were constant external signs of how fully I belonged to him. I never felt more secure in the knowledge that he owned my heart than when he could own my body.

If only he never had to go back home again.