Twelve Hours

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt something at the entrance to my pussy. As it slid inside of me, I immediately recognized the feel of your hard cock. I tightened my pussy muscles around you while you pounded into me, trying to increase your pleasure. You responded by wrapping your hand around me to rub my clit. It felt so good, I was afraid I would cum.

At that moment I realized my problem. I was not allowed to cum without asking for permission. If I spoke to ask for permission I would not be allowed to cum for the rest of the night. I didn't know what to do. I finally decided to just hold back from cumming for as long as I could and hope that you would realize my predicament.

You continued to fuck me until you were ready to cum. Instead of cumming inside of me, you pulled out, flipped me onto my back on the bed, and came in my mouth. You then knelt between my legs and started sucking on my clit.

This action almost sent me over. I began to shake with the effort of not cumming. I wished that I could ask you to cum, or that at least I could look at you and hope you'd recognize the need in my eyes. With the blindfold still on and unable to speak, I could do neither. Just before I was about to cum without permission I could hear you saying, "Cum for me."

Biting back a scream, I felt my body tense up before releasing all my pent up arousal. I thrashed on the bed for a moment as I came hard. The whole time you kept your mouth attached to my pussy. Every time my orgasm began to die down you licked and sucked my clit, prolonging it. By the third time you did, I was lost in the pleasure that I felt. I don't know how long you kept me on my sexual peak before finally allowing me to stop cumming. It was minutes later before I could think straight.

When my brain began to process things again, you were sitting next to me. You had one hand on my stomach and with the other was stroking my hair. When you saw that I was back to myself you leaned over and kissed me.

"You are such a good girl," you told me. "You can speak now if you want to."

I tried to say something, but it took me a moment to find my voice.

"Sir?" I finally managed.

"Yes, slut?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, my sweet slut," you reply. "Now let's take a short nap before dinner."

I was more then happy to obey. I was exhausted. You lay down and pressed yourself up against me. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around my naked body. Before I drifted off to sleep, I felt you kiss me one more time.

When I woke up, I was alone in the bed. I looked over at the clock. It a little after 6. I got up slowly, wondering where you went.

"Sir?" I called out.

"In the living room, slut," you responded. "Come join me."

I hurried to the living room where I saw you sitting on the couch. You were already dressed in a nice shirt and pants. When you saw me you smiled and instructed me to sit with you. I sat next to you, and laid my head down in your lap. You ran your fingers over my face and neck for a minute before you started to speak.

"While you were sleeping, I made dinner reservations. We're going to an Italian restaurant that I've heard good things about, but you'll never get in wearing what you did this afternoon. The place is much more formal then that. I bought you a dress a while ago, and was waiting for the right time to give it to you. This is a perfect opportunity. It's in the back of the closet behind all my nice shirts. I want you to let your hair down and fix your make-up to match the dress. Be ready to leave at 7. The reservations are for 7:30."

With that you dismissed me. I hurried back to our room, eager to see the dress you bought for me. Just as you said there was a dress hanging behind all of your shirts. In the back of my mind, I wondered how long you've had it.

I took the dress off of the hanger and slipped it over my head. Standing in front of the mirror, my first reaction was, "there is no way I can wear this out of the house". My second reaction was almost immediate arousal. I decided to ignore my first response, since I wasn't in the mood to take the dress off and then be taught a lesson in following your orders.

The dress was bright red, thin, and backless. The front consisted of two strips of material that formed a halter behind my neck, went down to cover my breasts, and met to form a V right above my belly button. At the bottom of the V the red material formed a tight skirt that extended an inch or two below my ass. The sides of the skirt were open and laced together like a corset in red string. You could see my leg through the laces. Attached to the hanger was a sheer red g-string.

In the bathroom, I fixed my hair so it gently curled around my shoulders. I then put on mascara and red lipstick in a "classic" fashion. With the make-up, the dress was just elegant enough to avoid being confused for something found in a common prostitute's closet. After slipping on my heels and glancing at the mirror one last time, I hurried to the door. I didn't want to be late again.

When I got to the door you were already standing there. At first I was nervous that I was late, but you assured me that I wasn't. You raised you hand and I saw that in it was a black flogger. I've always hated this particular one. It really hurt, and because of that was only used for punishment. The most I've ever received with it was ten strokes and I was in tears by the time they were through.

"I know you hate this," you stated, "which is why I hope I don't have to use it. When we go out, if you do something that disappoints me or contradicts one of my orders, you will be punished when we get back. For each offense, you will receive two strokes. You are required to keep track of how many strokes you will receive when we get back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Then let's go." You smiled before adding, "You look amazing, my slut."

Your compliment made me smile as we walked out of the house and into the car. The drive to the restaurant was uneventful. When we arrived, I saw that it's a restaurant that we've never been too, and one we probably won't go to again. This helped me relax. I could focus more on making you happy and less on trying to avoid people I knew. I knew you did this on purpose, and I was thankful for it.

As we entered the restaurant, you put your hand on my arm to steady me. You amaze me sometimes with how much you know me. Touching you, or being touched by you in any way always calms me down. When you tell the hostess about our reservations, she led us to a round booth towards the back of the restaurant. There wasn't anybody sitting in the booth in front of, or directly next to it, which I was glad for. I followed behind you, without saying anything.

You slid into the booth, and rearranged the place sitting so mine was directly next to yours. You then motioned for me to sit next to you. I did, conscious of the way the material of my dress was riding up as I sat down. You noticed how tense I was and slipped your arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. Your other hand moved between my knees, where I was attempting to clench my legs together.

"Relax, slut," you said softly. "And keep your knees apart. I don't want to have to remind you."

I quickly obeyed, glad that the table offered me some cover.

When the waiter came to give us menus, he began to openly stare at my chest. Despite the warm weather, my nipples were hard and visible through the thin material of the dress. I felt the heat in my cheeks and I could tell that I was blushing. You either didn't notice, or didn't care.

You tell the waiter that we didn't need menus and that we were ready to order. The waiter took out a pad and a pen and wrote down the order, never looking away from my chest. You ordered the veal parmesan for yourself and penne a la vodka for me. Yours comes with a salad, but you ordered a second salad for me.

"Is there anything else?" the waiter asked, not wanting to leave.

"Just some water for the two of us," you replied.

Without an excuse to stay, the waiter left. I could feel your hand between my legs again. I fought the urge to press my knees together as your hand slowly made its way up my thigh. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the waiter glance back at the table. I was burning in embarrassment now, but at the same time was getting very turned on. I began to squirm on the seat when your fingers reached my thong. Slowly you stroked the material, very lightly, causing me to want more. Suddenly your hand left my pussy. I pouted at you, but you just laughed.

"Patience, slut," you laughed, and kissed me lightly. "Our salads are here."

I looked up, and saw that you were right; our waiter was walking towards us with two salads. When he placed the salads in front of us, you knocked your fork onto the ground next to the table.

"Oops." You said with a smile. You turned to me before continuing, "I think I need a new fork. Can you pick up the one on the floor for me?"

I glared at you for a moment and hesitated before bending down to retrieve the dropped fork. I had to be very careful that my breasts didn't spill out of the fabric of the dress, and I was sure that the waiter had a lovely view of my ass when I bent over. I sat back down and put the fork on the table in front of you.

"Hand it to the waiter," you instructed me.

I pick up the fork and hand it to the waiter, who is staring once more. He hurried to gets you a new fork. You thanked him, and he left, but not before taking another long look at my body inside the revealing dress.

You told me that I could begin to eat and I did so gladly. I hadn't eaten since breakfast and was very hungry. We ate in silence for a few minutes before you said something.

"Would you like to tell me what you did to earn two strokes with the flogger?"

I stopped eating in surprise and quickly looked back over my actions. I didn't think that I had disobeyed you. Then I realized what it was.

"I hesitated before retrieving your fork, Sir."

"Correct. You are not to hesitate before obeying any of my orders. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. Let's hope that's the only thing I'll have to discipline you for tonight."

I agreed, and went back to eating my salad, slightly subdued. When I finished, our waiter quickly returned to take away our plates. Before he turned to walk away, he took another long look at my body. I turned my head away in embarrassment until he left.

"It looks like you have an admirer," you told me when we were alone again. "We should find out when he gets off work. Maybe he would like to join us later."

I hoped you were only teasing me. We had never included anyone in our play before and I didn't know how well I would handle it.

"He seems quite taken with you. I'm sure he would love a chance to play with your breasts. He can't keep his eyes off of them. Would you like that, slut?" you asked as you reached out and roughly fondled one of my breasts. Without thinking, I recoiled from your hand, as if it really were the hand of our waiter.

"No, I would not like it!" I said angrily.

Before I knew, you had my wrist in your hand and had pulled me back to you.

"You just earned yourself six more strokes of the flogger" you told me. Your voice was steady, but I could see the anger in your face. "Two strokes for pulling away from me, two strokes for forgetting to call me 'Sir', and two strokes for speaking to me in a disrespectful manor. Now I want you to get up and go to the bathroom, and when you return I expect you to behave in a way that makes me proud of you, not disappointed in you."

I stood up slowly, furious with myself for my behavior. How could I have done something like that? I turned back to look at you, but you were facing the other way. I felt awful for making you upset with me. I turned and walked away, aware of the stares of the other patrons.

When I came back you looked much happier. As I sat next to you, you smiled at me. I spread my legs apart when I sat like you requested earlier, trying my best to not make you any more upset.

"Sir?" I asked in a small voice.

"Yes, my slut?" you respond as you slid your hand over my leg.

"I'm sorry Sir. I won't do it again."

"I know you won't. You still have to be punished later, but I'm not mad at you."

"Thank you, Sir," I whispered.

It wasn't long before I stopped worrying about my mistake. This was partly because your hand began making its way up my leg. It only took a few stokes of your fingers on my inner thighs to make my pussy wet. When you pushed aside the soaked piece of fabric covering my shaved pussy, I gasped. You laughed at my reaction and carefully slid a finger into my pussy.

I squirmed against your hand, no longer caring who else saw me. I expected you to move your hand when our food got to the table, but instead you slipped a second finger into me. I moaned as you did this, and you winked at the captivated waiter. It was clear that he was getting turned on by the sight in front of him. It wasn't every day that he saw a man with his hand buried between the legs of someone who was dressed like a whore.

Throughout the rest of the meal you kept your fingers inside of me. Every so often you would wiggle your fingers, making me squirm. By the time we were both finished eating I was so horny I didn't care how I looked to anyone.

"Please, Sir", I whispered in your ear, "please may I cum?"

"No," you told me, and removed your fingers.

I felt empty without you inside of me. You offered your fingers to me and I dutifully took them into my mouth and sucked them clean. I swirled my tongue over your fingers, treating them as if they were your cock. Ignoring the part of my mind that knew that the waiter was staring at us, I focused on pleasing you with my mouth. Finally, you withdrew your fingers from my mouth. With one hand you motioned for the check. The other hand you rested on my thigh.

I tried wiggling a little to get your hand inside of me. You responded by putting pressure on my leg, sending a clear message. I sat still again, horny and wanting to cum.

You paid the bill, leaving a generous tip for our waiter. Taking my hand you led me out to the car. I climbed into the front seat. Hoping to please you, I spread my legs apart so if you wanted it, you would have access to my wet pussy.

"It looks like my sexy slut wants some attention," you said as you sat down next to me. "Why don't you play with yourself while I drive back home."

I smiled and slid a finger into my soaked pussy. As we drove the car is filled with the sound of my heavy breathing and my moans, which I could no longer hold back. I added a second finger to the one already sliding in and out of my pussy. With my thumb I began to circle my clit. I felt myself get closer and closer to reaching orgasm.

You heard the change in my breathing as I got close to cumming. Smiling, you took my hand and moved it to my side.

"But sir," I whine. "Please can I keep going? Please can I cum?"

"Not after you ask like that, you can't." you answered as you pulled up to our apartment. "Maybe if you're very good, you can cum after your punishment."

I had almost forgotten about the punishment I had earned throughout the night. I got very nervous as I walked into the apartment. You picked up the flogger from the chair by the door and directed me to the bedroom. When we were in our room you ordered me to strip.

I hurried to obey, not wanting to make matters worse then they already were. When I was done, I kneeled before you with my head bowed down. The fact that you were still fully clothed made me very aware of my nakedness.

You had me kneel in front of you for a few minutes before telling me to move. As each minute passed, my nervousness increased. Finally you instructed me to stand in front of the bed with my palms face down on the mattress in front of me. I stood as you instructed, my legs shaking.

The first stroke landed hard across both sides of my ass. I counted out the stroke like I knew I was supposed to. The second stroke fell alongside the first, just as hard. The third and fourth strokes were as powerful as the other two. As the fourth stroke landed on my skin, I screamed and I fell forward onto the bed.

"You're doing well," you told me, helping me to my feet again. "Halfway there."

With this you swung the flogger around once more. It connected solidly with my upper thigh. Tears began to fall as I felt the pain that followed the stroke, but I remembered to count out loud. The last three strokes also fell on my upper thighs. The final stroke was if anything, harder then the previous ones.

As soon as I counted the eighth stroke, I collapsed onto the bed in front of me, sobbing quietly. My ass and thighs felt like they were on fire. Welts were clearly visible against my pale skin. I cringed as your hand lightly brushed over my punished ass.

"Shhh," you whispered in my ear. "You took that very well. I'm proud of you."

I responded simply by curling up in a tight ball, and continuing to cry. You wiggled your hand between my thighs, and carefully but firmly spread apart my legs. You began to gently stroke my pussy lips while continuing to comfort me.

"Such a good slut," you told me. "Such a good slut to take her punishment like that. You are forgiven for everything you did wrong tonight."

As you talk, your hand was steadily stroking my pussy. I stopped crying as I began to get wet. You noticed and rolled me onto my back so you had better access to my open pussy. I cried out as my weight falls on my very sore ass, but am soon silenced by your finger pushing inside of me.

It isn't long before I was squirming on the bed. Every move I made caused my ass to sting and burn, but the now the pain only heightened my arousal. I wanted to ask to cum but I was afraid that you wouldn't allow it so soon after being punished. As always, you knew what I was thinking. With a final thrust of your hand, you told me "Cum".

When I stopped shaking, and my breathing returned to normal, you helped me sit up.

"Slut," you told me. "Look at the time. It's 9:58. In two minutes your 12 hours of submission will be over. You now have two choices. I am going to get up and leave the room. When I return in five minutes, if I find you on the bed, we will have an amazing night of love, sex, and fun, but no more BDSM. If however, I return and find you kneeling blindfolded beside the bed, then we will continue this for the remainder of the night. I won't be mad or upset if you choose not to continue. It is your choice."

With that you got up and left the room. I sat on the bed for a moment, considering my choices. If I remained on the bed it would mean no more punishments if I should happen to displease you. But it would also mean no more serving you. No more making you happy and curling up at your feet. No more being your slut.

I walked over to the dresser where you had left the blindfold from earlier. I picked it up, and then walked over to the side of the bed. Kneeling, I wrapped the blindfold over my eyes and waited for your return. I was no longer nervous, but felt very calm. I was your slut Yours to use, yours to discipline, yours to train, simply yours. And that's how I liked it.