To say that I’m nervous would be an understatement. Each breath felt more difficult to draw in than the last. My stomach was contorting in ways I didn’t know was possible. The collar I wore seemed a little tighter than expected as it pressed against my throat. I tugged at it a bit, making my way to His front door, being careful not to twist an ankle due to my black heels.
I almost didn’t do it. I very nearly couldn’t bring myself to knock on the door before me. My heart was in my throat, and my breathing stopped. My knuckles tapped at the steel.
*What if He changed His mind? What if I don’t live up to His expectations? I really should have taken an Ativan before I landed.*
I feared I hadn’t knocked loudly enough due to not being able to hear much passed the heavy pulse pounding inside my ears. I closed my eyes and let out a breath held too long as I brushed my hands down my short, black, lace dress in an attempt to garner some courage to knock again.
And then He was there. My Sir, in the flesh, had just opened the door. I peeked up at Him from under my red bangs, my cheeks flushed. A smile cracked across His lips, and I felt my stomach drop.
“You’re actually here,” I mumbled softly.
“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?” He asked me, a grin morphing into a smirk.
I stammered, having completely lost any ability to communicate using the English language. He chuckled softly, and lifted His hand slowly to brush His fingers along my warm cheek for the first time.
“Such a good girl to come all this way.” He stepped aside and held the door open while gesturing for me to enter.
“Thank you, Sir,” I said with a hitch in my voice as I made my way inside. My eyes darted from His to the surrounding rooms in front of me. A living room adjacent to the entryway, a few closed doors on either side of the hallway, and a kitchen toward the back.
“I bet you’re tired. How was the flight?” He inquired, reaching out to take the handle of the carry-on sized bag I’d been clenching my fingers around. I turned back to look at Him, relinquishing my belongings.
“Oh, you know. Screaming toddlers, TSA, being extremely cramped with a bunch of strangers for several hours while tens of thousands of feet in the air. The usual.” Snarkiness was somewhat of a defense mechanism of mine in times of stress. He smirked at me again.
“Did you make sure to eat?”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied instinctively. “I ate during my layover in Dallas.” I’d been staring at a spot somewhere between my feet and His eyes when my head shot up suddenly.
“I’m so sorry, Sir! I completely forgot to tell you when I was eating.” A look of remorse coloured lightly with fear lingered on my face.
“I trust you. You have a valid excuse. Airports aren’t easy to navigate and you’ve had a busy day.”
I let out my breath again in relief. Sir began to step toward one of the doors in the hallway, but hesitated for a moment to turn and say, “I have a surprise for you.” I promptly followed after Him, my curiosity dominating the rest of my chaotic emotions for a brief moment. He opened the door and placed my belongings to the side. To the left was a beautiful, wooden dresser of a warm chocolate colour. In the center sat a queen-size, four-poster bed covered in a black comforter and pillows. Bedside tables were placed on either side, and curtained windows lined the back wall. But, for me, the highlight of the room was the wire crate that sat opposite the doorway. Already inside was an extremely soft looking pet bed.
Despite feeling a bit undignified, I let out a squeal of delight when I saw it. I turned to Sir, wearing a large grin, and felt the urge to hug Him. He stumbled back a step due to my enthusiasm, but wrapped His arms around me, squeezing me closely. As someone who easily blushes, the blood rushed back to my cheeks for the umpteenth time that day.
“Thank you so, so very much, Sir,” I spoke to Him, my head tilted up just a bit to monitor His expressions with my arms around His neck. His hand slid up my back and into my hair.
“You’re very welcome, my pet. You’ve certainly earned it.”
The air was still, and it struck me right then that we were entirely alone. My heart made me aware of its presence again. My brain flitted through all of the sexual conversations we’d had leading up to this moment. Not having to reach much considering the added height from my heels, I leaned toward Him for a kiss.
People always say that first kisses are electrifying. They compare them to fireworks and sparks, and other things that generally have some kind of discomfort involved. (Being a welder, I would know.) But I’ve learned through many experiences that every first kiss is different. Some are sloppy and heated, some are absolutely terrible. Others make you feel like you’ve kissed your brother, instead of the best friend sitting in front of you, and a few make you feel nothing at all. But this kiss? This kiss made me melt.
His lips were soft and invitingly warm as they worked against mine. I felt all of my fears and apprehensions wisp away while my mouth explored His. Fingers began to knot in my hair, and I rested my head against His hand, coming up for air and a small, quiet moan. That’s when I heard the chuckle of a sadist.
My hair was pulled back sharply as Sir shored up His hold on me around my waist.
“Whose are you?” He asked me firmly, staring me dead in the eye with a smirk.
“Yours, Sir, “ I replied, quietly, stunned.
“I’m sorry? You belong to whom?” He questioned again.
“I belong to you, Sir,” I responded, a bit more loudly this time but also with a touch of a growl. The grip on my hair loosened.
“Such a good girl. I see you even wore what I told you to.” His hand slipped down the lace dress and found my stocking clad thigh. He grabbed me to lift it up so He could run His fingers down the fabric. Chills rose along my legs, up my spine, and to my arms while His fingers brushed against me. My body weakened against His. Sir’s fingers slipped underneath my dress and discovered the inside of my thigh, ever so lightly grazing my panties underneath before retreating. I noticed myself whimpering softly, not wanting to give away just how much He had managed to turn me on and failing miserably.
Sir released my leg; His attention was drawn to the black, leather collar secured around my neck before He fondled the ring that had been resting against my collarbone. Looping a finger through it, He pulled me to Him abruptly and kissed me with more vigor than before. His free hand found my breast and began to message it. I instinctively dug my nails into His back and was quite dissatisfied with the shirt in my way. Dropping my arms from around His neck, I went to remove His clothing. However, as my fingers touched the skin on His torso, He grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind my back.
“Did I give you permission to undress me?” He asked sternly. I looked Him straight in the eye, a growl in my throat.
“No, Sir,” I replied, glaring. I tried twisting my wrists to free myself from His grip, but, sighing, He only held me more tightly.
“Not even here for an hour and already feeling defiant, I see.”
Sir released my wrists and grabbed up my arms near my shoulders. With force, He steered me toward the bed and sat me down on it before sitting Himself, grabbing me once more, and laying me across His lap. After letting out a squeal, I was quite surprised, to say the least, when I realized I was staring at the black comforter and floor. My breasts were draped over His thigh and I felt them being pushed toward my chin. One of Sir’s hands grabbed my hair and tilted my head up while the other ran up my calf to my thigh before lifting my dress to expose my ass. He grabbed at me, squeezing a handful of one cheek, and then the other. I flinched and let out a loud yelp as His hand came down with a crisp smacking noise. I could feel the redness blossoming across my skin.
His lips close to my ear, Sir growled, “Is this what you wanted, fox?” I could hear a touch of a grin lying just beneath the layer of firmness in His voice. That sound alone could have made me wet. I squirmed in His lap, whimpering in response. He insisted on pulling harder on my hair.
“You’re going to count for Me.” Sir struck me again, this time on the other cheek. I hesitated before announcing, “One,” my teeth bared. He raised His hand again. “Two!” I squeaked. The pain stung like a thousand tiny thorns pricking my skin as He continued His punishment. It didn’t take me long to get to, “Nine!” and then finally, “Ten!” through gritted teeth.
“Good girl. Maybe now you’ll remember that you are to serve Me and not yourself.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied sincerely.
Sir massaged my warm, stinging ass to relieve some of the pain. I felt my panties slide slowly down to where my thigh highs met the straps of my garter belt, and then a finger rubbing on the lips of my pussy. A moan escaped past my lips and my eyes slipped closed; my hips squirmed to feel more from Him.
“You like to be teased, don’t you?” He let go of my hair and went to cup my throat in His hand.
“Uh-huh,” I moaned incoherently, nodding my affirmation.
He slipped a finger passed the folds of my pussy and tested my wetness by sliding in and out of me a few times. My hips began to move of their own volition while I savoured the light penetration. He removed Himself and slapped my ass, though not as hard as He’d done previously.
“Be still,” He ordered.
“Yes, Sir.” I nibbled on my lip. My brattiness had subsided and I was willing to do whatever it took for Him to continue fingering me.
Sir moved His hand back, but found my clit this time instead. Being incredibly wet, His finger slid easily over it. I shivered, His pace quickening, and bit down harder on my lip as though it would help prevent me from moving. After a couple of minutes of my whimpers and whines becoming much more intense, He surprised me by plunging two fingers inside, finding my G-spot with prowess. Another blush rose to my face while I began to moan and squirt just a bit.
Removing His finger from me, He said, “Open your mouth for your Sir.”
I did as told, sticking out my tongue a bit. With one hand still cupping my throat, He reached around me and placed His fingers in my mouth. I sucked on them obediently, tasting myself, licking between His fingers to clean off the mess I had made.
“Do you enjoy tasting yourself on your Sir’s fingers?” He asked me as I took Him deeper into my mouth before allowing them to slip past my lips to reply.
“I do, Sir….” I trailed off, a thought weighing hesitantly on my lips. “I just wish it was Your cock….”
“Hmm…” He paused, feigning a thoughtful moment. “We might be able to arrange that.”
Sir undid the straps securing my thigh highs to the garter belt and slid my panties off. Liberating my throat, He ordered, “Get on the floor and on your knees.”
I complied immediately and gave the mandatory, “Yes, Sir.” I now sat before Him, ass resting against my heels. He removed the shirt I’d been punished for attempting to get past a moment ago. I wanted to run my fingers through the hair on His torso and chest, but didn’t test His good graces and sat with my fingertips pressed against the carpet on either side of me. While Sir removed His belt and began to undo His pants, my metaphorical tail swished in anticipation. He must have recognized the look upon my face because He smiled, stepping out of His pants and standing naked before me, cock in hand. Moving closer to me, His other hand wove through my red hair. I opened my mouth once more and looked up at Him, waiting patiently.
“Such a wonderful pet,” He said softly, His cock touching my tongue.
Maintaining eye contact, I taunted the head with the tip of my tongue and lips. He began to harden at my teasing. I took Him slowly into my mouth and began to suck.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/7tf0t8/day_one_of_my_ownership