Memory Lane

Over the years his knots had gotten stronger.

She remembered, fondly, the first time he had bound her. The man was clearly no boy scout, and could do little more than recreate shoelace "bunny ears" on her wrists. She didn't try to escape, but by the end of the fucking the two of them had wound up embraced in a virtual spider web of loose ropes that comically wrapped their sweaty bodies.

But he learned, and he learned fast. As their collection of toys in the little drawer next to the bed grew, so too did his skill. Within a few months he could have her helplessly hogtied in just a few short minutes. Or at least she believed he could. The bastard always took his sweet time, following the same process.

First, he'd instruct her to strip and kneel. She reveled in the feeling of submitting to him. Of finding herself below him, naked, while he moved about fully clothed. Eyes lowered, nipples hardening from the combination of the cold air and anticipation. She knew what this time was for.

Next he'd affix the gag. Every time it came on she thought back to when she bought it, to how he had made her feel. She was mortified, despite herself. "I've been bad and I need a ball gag." Were the precise words he had told her to tell the clerk. She rushed back to the car afterward, bag in hand, cheeks red with embarrassment and excitement to show him what a good girl she had been. He took the gag out, examined it, and decided he didn't much like the color, and sent her back in to apologize and exchange it.

With the gag in place and eyes lowered, it was easy for her mind to transition. She was no longer the independent woman who managed six employees (including Darren, that idiot). She was becoming His. Lights dim, Sir slowly deciding which toys he might choose that night, and how he felt like taking his pleasure. Her mind slowed down, and she focused on the feelings in her body. She relaxed into the feeling of being owned, of being cared for.

He chose to have her arms tied behind her back this night. And she was able to predict that he wouldn't be attaching her to the bed. The bed they had sought out and chosen when they moved in together. It took several trips to find one that looked strong enough for what He had in mind, to say nothing of a specific type of headboard and footboard that would lend themselves to the anchoring jobs they'd need to serve.

So, no bed tonight, and he'd probably toss her petite, helpless body around. She loved that.

He instructed her to stand, and follow Him out into the living room. She knew what this meant, and her stomach balled up in dread and excitement.

Darren would have no idea the implications of his fuck up. The analyst wasn't new, in fact he had been with the company for a few years, but had only this month wound up on Trinity's team. And of course, his first assignment he had goofed on the numbers. She was forced to stay late, checking and re-checking his projections until they were in line with corporate for the meeting the next morning. As a result, she arrived ~15 minutes late for her weekly date with her Man.

When she finally arrived, He didn't say anything, just looked at her and cocked an eye brow.

"I know". She had said, somewhat meekly. All through the pleasant conversation at dinner, her mind knew what was coming.

And now, several hours later, here she was.

Arms tied to her body, gag in place to muffle her whimpers, she watched him sit on the love seat that had quickly become familiar to her as His favorite punishment spot.

"I need to punish you for being late, Trinity. Make yourself ready."

She moved willingly, of her own accord. He smiled at her motion, as that small bit of active consent was something he still enjoyed, confirming that she wanted this. That she needed this. Giving him the mental freedom to do to her everything that she needed Him to do.

She positioned herself across his lap. With her arms bound, she was completely unable to maneuver without his assistance. She felt so perfectly owned. His cock poking at her stomach through his jeans, his hand slowly running up and down her butt, from her thigh up to her hip, back and forth across both cheeks.

Suddenly the touch was gone,and before she could feel anything more, she heard it.

SLAP

His hand came down on her right cheek, her body recoiled and that familiar pleasure and pain flooded her brain.

"That's one" He said, and their night together had begun.

[To be continued]