My Loving Pet

My name is "Pet,"
He makes me wet,
Bent over knee,
Bare hand to flesh.
His fingers fill my precious rose,
He pulls my hair and makes me moan,
And teases me for my pleasure,
Slowly strumming with patient measure.
He is my kind Sir,
And I his willing Pet,
Alas, his love I'll never forget.

*****************

I pull up her sheer white panties and cover her bum. She sighs as I stop servicing her and admire the light pink marks my hands have left and the aroma of her sex as it lingers in the air. I know she is not satisfied. Maybe I will give her release later, maybe I won't. She will remain nondescript except for the limited details I believe you need to know...

I call her "Pet" but she is really my wife. An above average hourglass appearance and conservative woman by nature, in her late 40s to early 50s. On meeting her you would never know she is my willing submissive. She could be your local banker, lawyer, teacher, librarian, Sunday church going pillar of the community or whatever else you fancy. You would never know her true preferences. That is good for her because she chooses to keep her privacy. Behind the closed doors of our home she gives herself over to me, not as a slut but as a true partner, trusting me to care for her in exchange of her unconditional devotion. It is a deep and loving relationship and we would have it no other way.

"Pet," I start, "get up. We are going shopping this afternoon." Pet stands and I take in her appearance this morning. Always dressed in high heels and a dress, as I demand it, she pushes down her clothes to straighten them out and looks at me.

I know her thoughts, "Shopping for me and you today," I happily tell her. Pet smiles.

The convertible rolls down the road like a race horse, engine firing at full throttle. We are a good looking, well dressed couple out for a weekend ride, and jet across the desert valley in the summer sun to a town forty miles away. The combination of Pet's fire engine red lips and nails, and, dark sunglasses give her a deceiving air of bitchiness as we roll across the landscape, the wind blowing back her hair. Her appearance empowers and intoxicates her. I let her play the role as she ignores hungry young men as they pass by, taunting them with looks of indifference to their existence as they glance over hoping to get her attention.

We pull off the highway and traverse a canyon road to a small town just to the west until we reach our first stop. Pet looks at me as we pull up to a store named "The Surrey" and asks, "Here?" wondering why we have stopped at a place that looks like a bad cross between an art gallery and an antique curio shop.

"Come on, it is an interesting little place," I reply leaving her guessing.

A young woman in her mid twenties greets us from behind the counter. Pet roams the store curious for what little gems she might find. I indulge her curiosity for a few minutes until I see her getting bored.

"This way I tell her," leading her around a partition wall to the back of the store where the real purpose of the establishment lies, its walls lined with saddles, boots, jodhpurs, bridles and other equestrian needs.

"You need a new pair," I tell her pointing to the jodhpurs, "I found the perfect ones for you."

The owner remembers me and holds up a finger indicating he will be right back. A few moments later he returns with a custom made pair and hands them over.

"She can try them on if you like. The dressing room is over there," he says pointing to the door on the far wall.

"Lets see how they look," I tell Pet.

As we proceed, I stop to admire a wicker basket filled with riding crops and pick one out."Look at this one, what do you think?" I ask.

Pet has a mortified look on her face at first and then realizes nobody knows the true meaning of my question, assuming she understands it herself. My adorable minx steps up her pace to the dressing room, choosing to not answer me.

The dressing room has a chair and three changing stalls. It is empty and Pet disappears into a stall to put on the jodhpurs. I sit waiting for her return, fondling the crop, feeling the stiff handle, smelling the new leather, it melts into the palm of my hand and exudes pure power as I playfully tap and rub the flap against the palm of my hand.

Pet comes out to show me how the garment fits, a smile on her face, "They are just perfect," she exclaims with grateful joy.

"I'm glad," I say taking in how the pants tightly caress her form, "Now turn around so I can see how they fit in the back." Pet gleefully turns so I can see her lovely round ass caressed by the cream colored pants. Then I imagine her wearing her riding boots and hat and my lust begins to boil as thoughts of having her momentarily push aside all other reason.

Pet turns to look at me wondering why I've run silent and I shake my reverie.

"This is a nice crop. Do you like it?" I ask handing it over for her inspection.

"It is nice... well balanced.. light to carry, yet stiff to get the steed's attention," she observes as she hands the crop back.

"Turn around again," I tell her and she indulges me as she peers over her shoulder, "and drop the pants from your bum."

"Here?" she asks, "What if somebody walks in? The clerk? And, the owner is out there too you know...."

"Pet?" I say, an eyebrow raised intoning she should not question me. I like testing Pet. Pet complies and I place the flap of the crop on her flesh and she waits in silence. I raise the crop and hold it in mid air. To Pet it must seem like an eternity.

"We never finished what we started this morning. Here or at home?" I ask.

"Home," she replies. Pet tenses anticipating her answer is the wrong response. I can immediately slap her bum. I can very slowly lower the crop, gently bringing it to rest on her bum, upon which she would exhale and relax, and then I could unexpectedly lash her once for good measure. Or, I can overlook it all and do nothing. I feel devious and chose the second. Pet yelps. I am sure the owner and young woman hear her cry out, which is what I want. Pet shuns public humiliation and I playfully taunt her with it.

"Go change," I tell her. Pet's flesh is still light pink from the morning and now is marred by one red mark from the crop.

We approach the counter to pay the owner. Pet's face is flush with embarrassment. "The jodhpurs are perfect. The crop too," I tell him.

He has that look of "Tried it out, eh?" on his face as he looks at me and then at Pet. I pay in cash and we turn to leave.

"Thanks for coming in. Hope you come back soon," he politely says.

"We will be back," I assure him. Pet lowers her sunglasses as we pass to the front of the store hoping to hide her face from the young woman, whose face is just as flushed as Pet's. Now a second person has acknowledged Pet's cry, further frustrating her.

We drive off back to the highway. Pet wants to admonish me but knows better and sits in silence.

"That was fun," I say baiting her. Pet just looks off into the distance taking in the scenery. I smirk as we get back on the highway and head further from home knowing her angst.

We pull into the town of Cruz del Diablo. Despite the name, it is a quaint upscale community we rarely visit. I park and we walk a few blocks. I notice the men looking at Pet in her 'June Cleaver' best, all dolled up and it gives me great pride.

We reach a french style boutique. "Lets go in here," I suggest opening the door for her. Pet loves little shops like this one. A store clerk named Johanna is working with a client but peels away for a moment to greet us.

"May I help you?" she asks.

"We are the 11:30 appointment," I state as Pet looks at me quizzically like I am up to no good again.

"I will be finished with this lady in a moment and then we can begin," she vivaciously says with an eager smile.

Pet surveys the boutique's clothes- all high end fashion- and begins roaming the store. The bell on the door give a little 'ting-a-ling-a-ling" as the other patron departs. Johanna locks the door behind her and looks at Pet, "You have reserved a private session. that means you have the store exclusively to yourself. Now, let us begin."

"Honey?" Pet asks.

"For you, whatever you want dear, today there are no limits," I respond. Pet misses the double-entendre. I take a chair and watch as Johanna dutifully waits on Pet as she chooses various outfits.

Ten thousand dollars later Pet is finished shopping. "Those are all very nice outfits Pet, however, they are all outerwear. What about beneath the clothes?" I ask.

Pet was not expecting the question, "Dear, with my input, Johanna has chosen a wonderful selection for you to try."

"Follow me," Johanna says. I take a seat in an outer fitting room with a triple section mirror and platform for alterations. I dim the lights just a touch, sit in an over sized chair in front of the fitting platform and wait. Johanna comes out and sets down a tray bearing flutes of champagne, fruit and cheese.

I like Pet dressed in vintage lingerie- silk stockings with seams, belts and suspenders, girdles, basques, high heels, you name it. Pet shuns tawdry lingerie and prefers the classic pin up look too.

Soon after, Pet steps out of the dressing room to show the first outfit. It is nice- rich brown high heels, classic sheer brown seamed stockings and garters tethered to a cream colored basque with a subtle two tone lace pattern. I nod my head with approval and spin my finger directing Pet to swivel around and show me the backside.

"Yes, very nice... we will take that one," I tell Johanna as I sip my champagne and imagine Pet on top of me in the outfit, playing with herself until she throws her head back and cries out in pleasure.

Pet disappears back into the changing room only to emerge in the next outfit- black high heels, sheer black stockings with matching garters tethered to a girdle, bra, and the crown jewel, black elbow length gloves and a black choker. I imagine Pet at a cocktail party wearing the outfit beneath her short dress. The thought of her under attire driving me mad all night, making me impatient to get home and ravage her. I nod in approval a few times, my lower lip curled outward, before saying, "This one too."

From the corner of my eye I catch Johanna admiring Pet, her head cocked to the side, smiling and a glimmer in her eyes.

Johanna nods, "I think you will like the next one the best. Something I picked out, just as a suggestion," she says with an air of pride as she sits in the chair next to me to wait for Pet, "I think it will take your breath away. It will mine."

"She intrigues you?" I ask sensing her fascination.

"I have clients like you who visit from time to time. The level of loving devotion between them never ceases to amaze me. I find the women privileged in their relationship. I know there are trade-offs to the life but harbor a degree of jealously for the deeper devotion from their partners," she explains.

"You have never had that?" I ask.

"No, I can't find the right one to trust," she confesses. Johanna has quickly grown on me. She is in her early 30s and a self assured vivacious woman of average height and build but she has a certain intangible persona that pulls one towards her.

Pet emerges from the shadows of the changing room and ascends the platform for her review. Johanna has done well. This time the heels are four inch cream colored spikes, the stocking a very light beige and garters and belts which match the shoes. Pet wears a shear cream colored bustier with a two tone cream floral pattern. Pet has put her hair up to highlight her beautiful face. Johanna and I stare in awe at Pet's beauty, the contemplation makes the room quiet and heady. Pet becomes self conscious as we study her. She notices Johanna staring at her privates and realizes she is betrayed by her thin sheer panty which hugs her form, her hairs on display through the fabric. Pet trims little, preferring a natural appearance. The panty confesses. In modesty Pet brings her hands down and covers herself.

I look over at Johanna and see disappointment in her eyes. "Please don't," I tell Pet. She looks at me defiantly protecting her modesty. "Please," I say again. Pet refuses.

"She is beautiful in her body, her modesty and in her submission," Johanna whispers to me.

"Do you want to see her?" I quietly ask not seeking to spoil the growing sensual air in the room. Johanna looks at me with a blank stare, unsure if it will upset Pet. I stand, approach Pet, part her hands and pull down the elastic waist band so it exposes an inch swath of Pet's pubic hairs. I also pull the panty down behind her so it reaches below the curve of her ass and hugs her underside leaving her firm bum exposed. I would have expected Pet to protest but she doesn't.

"Come here," I tell Johanna, "Go ahead, touch her," I say giving her permission to run her delicate fingers through the exposed hair.

Since we have been together, I have never let anybody touch Pet. Johanna is somehow special. I don't know why I allow her the moment but it feels right, feels safe. I realize I am proud to display Pet to another woman, this woman. Johanna senses her privilege. As if touching a precious gift, she gently glides her fingers through Pet's tufts, appreciating the texture and the sacred moment.

Johanna looks at me for guidance. I take Pet by the hips and spin her around, her vision of us now obstructed by her body in the mirrors.

I nod my head and Johanna runs her hand across Pet's exposed bum, caressing her warm, soft and still slightly pink flesh. She stops and looks at me, "Thank you," she whispers.

"You are welcome. Have you ever?" I ask.

"Ever what?" she ask.

"Spanked?"

Johanna tilts her head to the side, smiles a devilish smile and dramatically says, "Why no..."

"Would you like?"

"Yes, yes I would," she says, eagerly accepting the offer.

Now first, let me tell you about Pet's preference for spankings. There are two kinds- pleasure and punishment. When we started, it was clear Pet liked pleasure spankings. A day would not go by without her bent over my lap, my fingers slowly teasing her aching cunt, bringing her frustrated sex to the edge, closer, closer, holding her at bay as her tender petals quivered at my touch, hips squirming as she moaned about to crest, and then, and only then, would my hand find its way to her flesh, a firm slap bringing her back to reality, just so I could her build back up again only to further frustrate her. We would do this for an hour or so until I felt her deserving of release. Sometime I ended it before giving her release, leaving with her wanting for more. Pet told me she enjoys spankings because I hold her lingering in a lurid state of pleasure and pain, each sensation feeding off the other. Once I knew the extreme pleasure she derived from spanking, I started withholding the spankings. Pet immediately missed them. Despite her protests, I continued to withhold until Pet began begging for them and learned what it meant to earn them. Don't get me wrong, I derive much pleasure from the spankings. I always administer so her naked form is draped over mine. As I tease, her hips and body move, her pubic hairs press against my cock and it grows rigid against her warm flesh. And, when I have decided we are finished, Pet is there to service my needs.

As for punishment spankings, she does not like those. Pleasure spankings are always delivered by the hand- there is something intimate about the my bare hand landing on her pliant flesh that an instrument cannot communicate. Punishment spankings are administered by the crop or some other convenient device. They are cold and have an obvious limited purpose. However, despite her distaste for them, I think Pet has recently been intentionally breaking little rules to gain minor punishment spankings- just to know the pain and how it awakens her consciousness- it gives her that endorphin rush she desires, and substitutes for the limited number of pleasure spankings.

I run my hand across Pet's round alabaster bum, feel its warmth and observe the fading pink hue from earlier in the day, contemplating if allowing Johanna to administer is appropriate, "Pet, we did not finish this morning... bend over slightly, ass out."

Pet complies and between the bottom of her bum and the elastic band of the lowered panty, her wild dewy hairs and slightly parted furrow are visible.

"Go ahead, spank her," I encourage.

"Really? Are you sure?" she asks.

"Yes," I say.

"Pet?" she respectfully asks.

"Please," is her reply.

Johanna lands her hand on Pet's right cheek. It is a timid slap, one that telegraphs a fear of inflicting harm.

"You can spank harder," I tell her. Johanna strikes up a light staccato pace. It makes Pet's flesh ripple on contact, generates a light sting and raises a deeper pink hue. Johanna smiles with satisfaction as she finds 'her' power in the act.

"Well done.... Put your hand here, right on the hip bone and hold her fast," I start, my palm fast to her hip, thumb reaching back and fingers spread wide to the front, the lower two reaching out to grasp Pet and hold her steady. Then I raise my hand and pause. Pet stands still waiting for the moment. I hold her in place for a while. Johanna smirks at the tension I'm building. Wait, wait, wait then I suddenly land my open palm on Pet's cheek. It ripples at the stinging smack. Pet winces but takes it and waits for the next one. But my fingers make for her folds and she gasps as I unexpectedly penetrate her sex before this stranger.

Pet gasps as my fingers take her, fast and deep inside her hot pussy and I toy her slick walls. Johanna watches with fascination as I strum Pet's sex and suddenly lay another hand on her bare ass, making her jump. Her juices run as I push the third and then fourth fingers into her, impaling her from behind. Her face is suddenly flush with embarrassment. I slowly slide my hand in and out, teasing Pet's folds, building her excitement. Pet knows the rules. Her body upright and feet apart, she brings her knees and thighs together and presses them tight, pushes her hips down and fights to stave off the release I am imposing. I spank her again. She is hot and frustrated.

"Sir, please..." she begs seeking permission to release.

"No," I reply as I toy with her some more and feel

her heat rise to a new level as her cunt clutches at my fingers and her hips writhe in distress.

I spank her again, "Pet, apologize to our fine host for covering yourself."

Pet turns, looks down into Johanna's eyes and says, "I am sorry Mame," sexual tension evident in her face.

"So polite," Johanna sarcastically observes admiring Pet's manners.

"Remorse instills humility," I state as I fondle her some more, my fingers covered in her flowing juices.

"Sir?" she asks in distress, again begging permission and I slap her ass.

"And very well trained," Johanna comments.

Pet looks down and into my eyes. I see she is at her limit. "Yes my love, now," I say and she instantly pushes down on my hand, impales herself and shudders, a deep and steady convulsion pillaging her beautiful body. When the quake subsides I remove my hand from the sopping sex and Pet groans.

Johanna looks at me as I gaze at Pet and asks, "Your love for her is deep, isn't it?"

"Very much so," I confirm.

"It shows in how you look at her- very intense- and how careful and protective you are with her.... dare I ask, have you ever made love in the presence of another?"

"Voyeur?" I ask deflecting the question, sensing where the eager and now greedy Johanna wants this to go.

Johanna turns away and starts walking. She but turns her head, looks over her shoulder and states with that infectious smile, "Maybe..."

She waits and then turns back to me, "So?"