Submissive's Journey 06

I will ignore the parts of this narrative that deal with mundane things:the two of us going to work each day, breakfasts, lunches, dinners. Of course we had to do these things. You can take that as a given, and you can also take as a given that many of the household chores fell onto my shoulders, but I did not mind serving.

One day, early in our new relationship, Susan called me into the living room. "Strip!" she commanded. "Remove all your clothes – quickly girl!"

I hurriedly pulled the clothing from my body, thankful it was a warm day. When I was completely bare, she told me, "Stand up straight, your arms at your sides, and do not move!" I did as I was told, wondering what she had in mind. She stood up and passed out of my line of sight.

I did not have to wait long. She walked up behind me and carefully wrapped a dark opaque material around my head, covering my eyes. I was plunged into darkness! I felt her tie a firm knot at the back of my head. Not being able to see certainly enhanced my feeling of vulnerability. But I stood straight and still, waiting.

Susan's voice came into my darkness, instructing, "Raise your arms out to each side." I did so quickly. In a moment, I felt something touch me. Correction. I felt Susan touching me with something. It touched my breasts and back; then my waist; then my hips. I realized ultimately that she was measuring me. She was very thorough. The measuring tape touched me here and there. I lost track of all the places. I could hear her scribbling notes as she worked.

Finally, she said, "OK, girl. Lower your arms." She took hold of my hand. "Come with me," she demanded, and led me through the house. Blindfolded as I was, I was slightly disoriented. But I soon determined that we were nearing the front door – and I was naked! Fortunately, she did not lead me out the door; just near to it.

"Kneel down right here," she ordered, "and put your hands behind your back." I carefully did as I was told, kneeling on the fairly soft rug and putting my arms behind me. As I anticipated, I felt the handcuffs click onto my wrists, securing me.

Susan said, "I'm going out for a while, but you will stay right here, just as you are." I thought about protesting, not feeling very comfortable being left like this. But then I thought that perhaps Susan was testing me. Maybe she would only be gone for a few minutes. She asked, "Do you understand?"

I tried to wet my suddenly dry mouth and managed to squeak, "Yes Miss."

"Good," was all she replied. Then I felt wind on my bare skin as she opened and closed the door. I listened carefully, wondering if she was still in the room with me. But I heard her car start, and then drive away. (Later, Susan shared her mixture of feelings with me; anxiety at leaving me like that, mixed with the elation of how obedient her 'girl' was behaving).

I do not know how long she was gone.

It is difficult to keep track of time, kneeling in darkness. I wondered what I would do if someone knocked at the door, or rang the doorbell. I wondered if I could be seen through the windows. But I dared not look. What if Susan had driven only a short distance away, and sneaked back to look through the window? I did not want her to catch me disobeying. So I knelt, and I waited.

After what seemed an endless amount of time I heard a car approach. I prayed it was Susan returning, and not some stranger. But a few moments later the door whooshed open, and I heard Susan say, "Good girl." She then untied the blindfold and removed it, along with the handcuffs.

I blinked in the sudden light, my eyes accustomed to the darkness. Standing up at Susan's command, I had to lean over slightly to rub my knees, sore from the ordeal. Susan did not reprimand me. She merely waited for me to regain my control. She was holding a medium-sized bag, and explained that she kept her trip to a minimum this time, since she was not certain how long I could hold myself in that position.

"How thoughtful of you," sprang ironically into my mind, but I kept this thought wisely to myself. She opened the bag and first drew out – a dog's collar? It was made of leather, thick and dark, covered with metal studs. I looked at her, confused. Were we buying a dog? As I observed the grin on her face, the awful truth struck me! It was meant for me!

This was quickly confirmed when Susan said, "I think this will look lovely on you. Come closer and lean over."

I flushed scarlet I am sure but I did as she commanded. She looped the collar around my neck and buckled it snugly. It fit perfectly. She had been careful with her measurements. "Go look at yourself in the mirror," she suggested. I did so, at first feeling very humiliated. After all, this was a dog's collar.

But as I looked at it – and in many ways it was not much different than wearing a choker – something triggered deep within me. I realized that a dog's collar also symbolized ownership. Susan was visibly proclaiming her ownership of me. In a strange way, this made me feel proud.

I straightened up and began studying how I looked from different angles. Out of the corner of my eye, looking into the mirror, I noticed Susan's face watching me. I saw it change into a blissful smile as she saw me straighten and begin preening. (Later, Susan explained that she was very apprehensive as to how I would react to the collar, and how pleased she was at the results).

"Well, if you are QUITE finished admiring yourself, come back over here to me!" Susan growled. But there was a hint of a smile lurking around the corner of her mouth.

I blushed. I HAD been admiring myself. I ran to stand in front of her. She reached again into the bag and pulled out: a long leather leash! As I stood gaping at it, she ordered, "Turn sideways."

As I did, in my peripheral vision I saw her reach for my collar and for the first time I heard the click of the leash being attached. I cannot easily describe the thrill that ran through me as I heard that sound. As I turned slightly to look at Susan, I believe I saw the same sort of thrill reflected in her facial expression. A Mistress and her pet united by the leather leash.

She then handed me the handcuffs. "Cuff your left wrist; then place your hands behind yourself."

When I had done this, she reached behind me and snapped the other handcuff into place. Another small step on my journey of submission. Not only was I allowing Susan to restrain me; I was cooperating in rendering myself vulnerable. (Looking back on this, I see how Susan's actions were gaining my trust, facilitating this.)

"Let's walk around a little bit," Susan said. Holding my leash and leading me, she took us on a complicated journey through our house. We wound our way through various rooms, on the ground floor, upstairs, even through the basement.

A budding Mistress walking her naked, handcuffed pet through her domain. (You may be wondering why I was not 'walked' on my hands and knees, as befitting a pet. The answer is simple. Susan had noticed me rubbing my knees from my ordeal, and decided to let them recover, this time).

As we returned to our starting point, she grasped my leash about halfway along its length with her left hand, gathering the remainder into her right hand. With amusement in her voice she explained, "Now we will see if you were paying attention. We will repeat our walk. This time you will lead. However," she cautioned, "if you make a mistake, there will be a penalty."

"What kind of penalty?" I demanded. Oops! I saw her face darken a little and thought quickly about what I had said and more importantly how I had said it. Realizing my mistake, I quickly added very politely, "I am sorry, Miss. I meant to ask: 'What kind of penalty, Miss?'"

This show of respect brought the smile back to her face. "That is a much better way of addressing me. In answer to your question – you will see, if and when you make a mistake. Go ahead. Start walking."

The beginning of the journey was quite clear in my head, so I started out well. But as we went upstairs, I got confused as to the order of the rooms we had visited. That is where I made my first mistake. I became quickly aware of this as I felt a gentle tug on my collar from the leash. At the same time the free end of the leash came whistling out of her right hand to crack lightly across my bare buttocks. The surprise made me yip!

I quickly change direction, entering the correct room. But soon, I made another mistake and received another tug and another crack across my buttocks; this one a bit harder. Again I yelped with surprise since my back was to Susan the entire time.

But I found that I was enjoying this game. In fact, I began to deliberately make small mistakes, and I had to keep myself from giggling when I received my 'punishment'. Susan was learning to gauge how firmly to strike; enough to cause a wonderful mixture of pain and pleasure. I was actually saddened when we again reached our starting point – the end of the walk.

I asked rather timidly, "Can we do it again, Miss?"

With a grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye she asked me, "Why, pet?"

I flushed and I stammered and I scraped my bare toe on the carpet, but I could not meet her eyes. However, the tiny trickle of fluid from my pussy down my inner thigh betrayed me to her probing eyes. She came close to me and whispered in my ear, "Was that arousing?"

I nodded, feeling the heat of my flush spreading down past my collar bone to the tops of my breasts.

Again she whispered almost sensuously, "Are you close, my pet?"

I swallowed hard and slowly nodded.

"Come over here," she said, leading me with my leash to the sofa. She hiked up her skirt and sat down on the edge of the sofa cushion and commanded, "Bend over my knees!"

It was a bit awkward with my hands cuffed behind me but I managed to drape my nude body over her lovely bare thighs. Once I was in position, she did not make me wait.

I felt her open palm spank across my buttocks. I gasped aloud at the excitement of that contact, and the second time her hand landed I began to moan. Between each spank, her hand rested against my flesh; sometimes moving in a gentle caress.

Soon I was writhing in her lap, rubbing my torso and mound against her thighs. Suddenly, I climaxed! The orgasm onset actually caught me by surprise. I felt the fluids gush from me as I rode the waves of my release. I was dimly aware of Susan's hand caressing my buttocks, prolonging my state of arousal. I admit that I was too wrapped up in my own sensations at that moment to be aware of what might be happening with Susan, if anything.

As I regained my senses, she uncuffed my hands and helped me off her thighs to lead me upstairs by my leash. As we moved, I glanced back at the sofa, and was heartened to see a large wet spot on the sofa cushion precisely where Susan's pussy must have rested. Whether that was merely leakage from excitement, or due to her own orgasm from spanking me, I never learned. I saw no evidence of wetness on her skirt as she led me, but she had not been sitting directly on it when I was over her knees.

She led us to her bed where we cuddled. She held my nude body close to her clothed one, pulling the cover over me to help keep me warm. We murmured to each other in this afterglow, and gradually drifted off into a nap together.

(continued in part 7)