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An icy wind whips around my legs, briefly lifting my coat and exposing my nearly naked ass to the neighbors, as I step in your door. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here,” I try to explain, “I got held up by a—”

“Hush,” you say softly, pressing a finger to my lips. My mind goes completely blank. “I…uh…” I stammer.

“Hush,” you say forcefully, pressing your hand over my mouth. “Now, strip.”

Knowing better than to try and dissuade you from my punishment, I open my coat to reveal the skin-tight see-through black lace camisole and matching thong panties you ordered me to wear on the drive over. I pull the thin straps of the camisole over my arms, and shimmy it down my waist. I pause for a moment, unsure of whether to hook my thumbs into the panties and take them off with the camisole. “Should I…” I begin, then immediately regret my words.

“I said, HUSH,” you say, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back with one hand while roughly pulling both camisole and panties down to my knees. “I can see you need help with that. Turn around and assume the position,” you say with quiet force, releasing my hair with a jerk to my right,

Trembling now, I turn around, spread my legs wide, and bend over at the waist, with my fingers laced behind my neck, my back arched up, my shoulders down and back and my chest thrust forward. I brace for the blows I expect you will deliver to my ass. Instead, you drag your fingernails across my ass from my hips inward, then rake them around to grab my ass cheeks and split them open, fingernails digging perilously close to my tight asshole. I gasp in both pain and need as you spit on my asshole, anticipating either your finger bebek escort or your cock entering it. To my surprise and frustration, you do neither, releasing my ass, your spit trickling down my inner thigh.

“I said strip. If I have to help you obey me again, your punishment will be more severe than the one I’ve already planned,” you warn through clenched teeth.

I quickly pull the camisole and panties from my knees to my feet, bending deeply and keeping my legs straight and spread wide, hoping that exposing my pussy—slick with wanting you—will make up for at least some of your disappointment in me. I lift both stiletto-clad feet out of my clothing, grasp one piece in each hand, and reach around my back to hand it to you. I then resume my previous position, wrists crossed just above my ass.

“Good girl,” you say, grabbing my panties in one hand and my hair in another, dragging my body by my hair up and around to face you. I open my mouth to cry out; you stuff my panties in my mouth. Then you reach for the roll of duct tape on the arm of the nearby leather loveseat, tear off a length, press it firmly over my mouth, and slap the camisole out of my hand. “Now, HUSH.”

You grab each of my nipples between a thumb and forefinger and pull me over my discarded camisole toward the bathroom. Once there, you move behind me and grab my ass, fingernails digging underneath my cheeks and push me over the threshold. Stretching your arm around my ribcage underneath my tits, you lift me off my feet and kick each shoe off, then set me down in front of the bathtub. I can feel the heat of the water from where I’m standing, and see steam rising off mecidiyeköy escort its surface.

“Get in, you filthy whore,” you sneer. I know the water will be hot—too hot—but I obey, knowing that if I don’t, the consequences will be much worse. The water singes my skin as I step in and crouch down, lowering myself into the searing water as slowly as I dare.

“Stay,” you bark as soon as I’m submerged. You leave the room for a minute, then return with the roll of duct tape. You wrap my wrists together, then raise my hands over my head and secure them to the wall of the tub surround. “Feet up and apart,” you command. I obey. You dry each foot roughly with a coarse towel, then place each one flat on the cold tile, as high and wide apart as my legs will go, wrapping the duct tape around each ankle and crossing over each instep, long lengths of duct tape securing it to the tub surround, then again around each instep and back behind each heel, to keep my feet firmly fixed and motionless and my legs up and open wide.

The heat of the tub and the cold of the tile cause me to begin shivering. My nipples raise and harden. You reach into the water and pinch and roll them. I begin to moan in pleasure, and you pinch them hard and painfully. “Hush,” you whisper fiercely. I now understand that I am to make no noise whatsoever, no matter what. I silently resolve to please you.

You begin stroking my clit. I clench my jaw and take quick shallow breaths to stifle any sounds of pleasure. You alternate between my pussy and my tits, pinching, rubbing, squeezing, fondling, but I make no sound except that of my breath, which I try to quiet by taking slow, deep breaths. “Good florya escort girl,” you purr, which heightens my arousal.

Suddenly, you thrust three fingers into my pussy and spread them, stretching me open and allowing the still-steaming water into my cunt. I breathe in sharply in pain and pleasure, and you pinch my nose closed, looking me steadily in the eyes. “Be my good girl and acknowledge that I control every part of you.” Panicked, but trying desperately not to show it, I nod, closing my eyes and surrendering my very consciousness to you. “Oh, yes…” you whisper, “very good.” I beam with pleasure, waiting for you to send me into darkness. But as my breathing is withheld, my body betrays me and starts to struggle. I look deep into your eyes, begging you to forgive the involuntary actions of my body. You release me, allow me to take a few deep gasps of fresh air, then pinch my nose closed again. “Don’t worry, my pet,” you soothe, “I would never truly harm you. Only control you.”

I will myself to wait, allowing my swimmer’s training to calm my panic. You hold my breath for a while, then release. Hold, wait, release. I allow myself to acclimate to the rhythm you set, and begin to relax into the pattern. With your other hand, you begin fondling and finger-fucking me again, bringing me to the edge of orgasm, my hips and chest bucking up and down in the rhythm you set for my breath, my hard clit, my erect and stiff nipples. You see and feel how close I am to cumming, then stop abruptly, stand up, and begin to leave the room. I choke back a whimper as you disappear out the doorway, leaving me desperate, helpless, and vulnerable. I close my eyes and wait, my hips and chest still throbbing with need.

I hear a shrill whistle. It stops suddenly, and I hear your footsteps coming toward me. I open my eyes as you come into the bathroom. You’re carrying a teapot, steam pouring out of its spout. My eyes go wide with fear…

…to be continued…

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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