Her clit throbbing and desperate, she waited, naked and kneeling next to him. The long, wicked paddle and a pair of dice—one red and one white—waited for her, on the coffee table. The thick, black collar sat snugly around her neck, a constant reminder that she’d given herself to him, utterly and completely. She was owned. His to do with as he pleased. The little padlock wasn’t even necessary; she loved the collar and what it symbolized, and she would never think of removing it without his permission. Her hands were cuffed behind her back with the black cuffs, her ankles bound similarly, but with a bit more play in the thin chain. Her back was straight, her head down, her knees spread wide, and her toes tucked up underneath her, as she’d been taught.
She wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been there, kneeling and waiting, as he watched the baseball game. Fifteen minutes? Twenty? She kept her head down, only craving his attention. He ignored her. That made her pussy drip.
Her ass still showed the marks from the night before, from the paddle and the strap, when the dice had not been kind. Spanking was never a punishment (she liked it too much). His punishments were much more creative than that. Much more wicked. She’d been bad nine days ago, and hadn’t come since. Her punishment had been 2 days of not touching her poor clit at all, followed by two days of edging but no orgasms. Since then, she’d gotten to roll the dice, but without any luck. She only got to come when she rolled a three with the white one. Bad girls didn’t even get to roll the dice.
Another drop slipped from her pussy and landed on the wood floor below her. She knew she should tell him, beg him to clean up the mess she was making (that was rule nine; she always cleaned up the messes she made).
Casually, without taking his eyes from the game, he reached out his arm and put his index finger near her lips. She kissed it, hungrily, then opened her mouth wide. He rewarded her by pushing his finger in, letting her suck on it. She felt so submissive, cuffed and kneeling, her ass sore and her clit desperate. Another drip. She was going to be in trouble.
Another finger joined the first, his middle finger now being sucked on. She looked at the crotch of his jeans, and saw that his cock getting hard. That made her very happy, and she also felt some relief. She always worried he would grow bored with her, want a new toy. She’d been living with him, as his sub, for seven months. Seven months of spankings and edges and teases. Seven months of being used for his pleasure, his amusement. Seven months of never coming, not even touching her clit, without permission. Seven months of him making nearly every decision for her. She had never been happier.
“My pet, do you want to roll the dice?”
“Yes, Sir. If it pleases you, Sir.” She had never said no, despite the risks.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”
“There is a price to roll the dice. What is it?”
“Twenty with the paddle, Sir. Hard, without a warm up.”
“That’s right. But you want that, don’t you pet? You want me to make your sore ass even worse.”
Another drip. God, she needed to touch her clit. “Yes, Sir. Please Sir, please paddle me.”
“Okay, pet. Head down, ass high. Let’s tenderize that bottom.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, almost giddy. She quickly put her head to the floor and arched her back, putting her ass high up for him.
After slowly standing, stretching his arms high above his head for a minute, like he had all the time in the world, he picked up the paddle and moved behind her. Each moment stretched out into a lifetime, her anticipation building and building. He rubbed the paddle back and forth across her ass. “Pet, it looks like you’ve made a mess. Naughty, naughty.”
She was suddenly scared. “I’m sorry, Sir. May I clean it up?” Would he send her to bed early? Not even spank her?
“Did you know you were dripping?”
She knew not to lie. She never lied to him, not after the one time, at the beginning. She had felt so bad, even his punishment hadn’t been enough. “Sir, I was about to ask if I could clean it up.”
“Pet….that will cost you ten extra with the paddle. Beg for it.”
“Please Sir. Pretty please. Please give me 30 with the paddle, Sir. Good and hard.”
“That’s my good girl.” Those words made her heart nearly burst, even as her body shook, knowing a hard paddling was about to start.
He rubbed the paddle over her tender bottom. She tried to keep breathing, but then the paddle left her ass.
Crack! Crack. CRACK.
The first few always hurt so so much, the skin of her ass still sore and bruised from the strap and paddle the night before. She knew the endorphins would kick in soon, the buzz she so craved. Part of her loved the pain, the hurt, the soreness for days afterwards, and the look of her punished ass in the mirror. Part of her did not.
Crack. Crack. Crack….
The endorphins flowed in, a sweet rush, taking her breath away.
"Ten, Sir.” She had almost forgotten to count. That would have been ten more extras. Not a good idea, considering the condition her ass was in. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Her heart swelled again. It had been two years since she’d given herself to him, and she still craved every good girl, still would do anything to please him and hear those two little words.
He tapped her ass again. “Pet, keep that ass high and your back arched.”
“Yes, Sir.” She strained for him, arched her back.
Crack, crack, crack.
Now she was reveling in it, lost in the hurt, lost in being his. She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to sit the next day, and the night was still so young.
“Twenty, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Between the pain and those words, she was nearly in heaven. She took deep breaths, enjoying the moment.
“Pet, back up. Use my fingers to edge.” Those words reminded her that her clit was alive and needy as hell.
Her head still pressed against the floor, she looked back at him, sitting on the couch again. He smiled, a sweet, caring smile, and stuck out his hand. She awkwardly backed up, towards him, until her pussy and clit were lined up with his fingers. He lowered his hand slightly, and she pushed back. His fingers spread her pussy lips, and pushed into her.
“Pet, you are so wet. You didn’t enjoy your paddling, did you?” Her pussy lips reached his hand, two fingers deep inside her. She clenched tight around them. She felt so owned, so submissive, handcuffed and her ass high in the air.
“Yes, Sir, I did enjoy it.” She blushed, hearing herself say that.
“That’s my good girl.”
His other hand squeezed her cheeks, and she gasped with the rush of pain.
“Okay, pet, that’s enough. Edge yourself.”
She moved her hips forward a few inches, feeling sad as his fingers slid out, then backed up again until his wet fingertips were against her clit. She started to hump back and forth.
His other hand spread her cheeks, and she knew he was looking at her asshole. It was still sore from the night before, too, from his cock taking it. A fingertip teased her asshole as she ground against his fingers.
She so, so, so needed to come. It had been far too long, and her clit was swollen, tender and needy.
His fingertip pressed into her ass.
Suddenly she was close, her clit twitching.
“Please, please, Sir, may I come? Pretty pretty please?”
His fingers didn’t go anywhere, stayed right in the perfect spot. Is he actually going to let me come? She couldn’t believe it. She opened her mouth, to cry out, to come, but he hadn’t said yes, hadn’t said anything. “Sir!”
His fingers pulled away. “No, pet. You know you have to wait for a three.”
She groaned. She wanted to cry.
“You may hump the air.”
She felt herself blush, but that didn’t stop her from grinding her hips, her clit so sensitive, air had a chance of pushing her over the edge. The slightest touch would have done it, another second on his fingers, and she would have come so so hard.
“You like it when I tease you like that, don’t you? You like to hear no.”
It was true, she did. “Yes, Sir.” She loved to be denied. Loved the mocking tone he used to tease her. He knew what she needed, what she craved, and gave it to her. Nothing made her feel as owned as his telling her no. After all, she’d given herself to him, for his pleasure, for his amusement. Nothing turned her on more than him acting like her desperate, desperate need to come didn’t matter to him one bit.
The paddle tapped her bottom.
“The extra ten, pet. For your naughty pussy dripping on the floor and you not cleaning it up.” She arched her back, needing the pain again, to chase away the mountain of need in her tiny clit.
“Please, Sir, please punish me.”
“Good girl. How are extras given?”
“Extra hard, Sir.”
Crack, crack, crack.
Without mercy, he lit up her bottom, extra hard. She wondered if he was actually upset about the dripping…
“Ten, Sir.” There were tears now, running down her cheeks, making a mess out of the wooden floor in a different way.
His hand ran over her ass, caressing it. “I can feel the heat pulsing off of your bottom. I like that.” He squeezed her left cheek. She gasped. He gave her two smacks with his hand, then squeezed the other cheek. She opened her mouth, to cry out, but couldn't actually make a sound.
His hand ran up her spine and under her hair. He gently took her hair between his fingers, wrapping it around his hand, then lifted her head up. He kissed her, then kissed the tears on her cheek. He held her close. “Pet, we don’t have to finish. You don’t have to roll the dice. I can put you to bed, and we can play tomorrow.”
She hated that idea. Really fucking hated it. Her clit hated it too, more than the rest of her. “No, Sir.” That might disappoint him. She would not do that, no matter the cost.
“Are you sure, pet?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Okay, pet. I’m going to put you in the corner. When you come out, we’ll roll the dice.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
With his help, she awkwardly shuffled to the corner. Still on her knees, her nose deep in the corner, she reached back and as gently as she could, took a cheek in each hand. It hurt terribly. She spread her cheeks, as she was supposed to in the corner.
“Good girl,” He said. Despite the pain, that warmed her heart. He kissed the top of her head, then rubbed her back for a moment. “My good girl.”
She was a very happy pet.
***
After what felt like an eternity, his hand touched her shoulder. She jumped a little, suddenly excited and nervous. He kissed the top of each shoulder, gentle, sweet kisses. “It’s time, my pet. Go to the dice.”
She did the awkward, embarrassing shuffle again, back to the coffee table. The white die waited for her, teasing and mocking her. All she could think was, Please, please don’t be a one. A one was the worst. A one meant a trip to the shower for a quick rinse, then the chastity belt went on for 48 hours. No edges. Nothing anywhere near an orgasm. Then she would grab her ankles for a session with his belt, followed by him coming in her mouth. That part she liked, but the rest…. Please not a one.
She got to the coffee table, looked up at him. “Yes, pet, you may.” She picked up the dice with her lips, held it above the table. A two wouldn’t be too bad, she thought. A two was a hand spanking over his lap, which she loved. Then she’d be uncuffed so she could lay in front of him, on her back, and spread her legs to edge for him, with her fingers, as he watched. The number of edges depended on the roll of the second die.
“Pet, are your eyes closed?”
She closed her eyes tight. “Yes, Sir.” She tried not to, but she couldn’t help hoping for a three. A glorious three meant orgasms. Heaven. And if she could roll a second three, it meant she got to come again tomorrow. So far, that had only ever happened twice. Even as she thought about those lovely double threes, part of her mind tugged at her the other way. The wicked part that didn’t want orgasms. That only wanted spankings and denial. To be shown that she was owned and for his amusement. The part of her he knew, that he saw far too clearly. It was, after all, why the game was so difficult.
“Pet, are you ready?” She nodded her head. “Good luck, my pet. You may roll the die.”
She breathed in deep. She was so nervous, one tremor after another zipping through her naked body. Her lips opened and the dice fell to the coffee table, ticking and spinning against it. She held her breath. What was it?
He didn’t say a word, letting the moment stretch out, longer and longer. She swallowed a moan, the tension too much. Finally, his voice full of mock concern, he said, “Oh, pet, that’s too bad.”
It wasn’t a three, that was for sure. Please, please, please, not a one.
Standing very close to her, he said, “Pet, you may open your eyes.”
Her eyes opened, and she stared at the die, just inches in front of her.
It wasn’t a one. It was a five. She could almost swear she heard her clit moan in frustration. Her heart tightened in her chest, but it could have been worse. At least it wasn’t a one.
“A five two nights in a row, my pet. That’s bad luck.” His voice didn’t sound all that concerned. More amused than anything. That made her clit moan again. “You know what that means. The strap. Roll again, let’s see how bad it is.”
Her body trembling, she reached with her lips for the other die. Like a good girl, she closed her eyes.
“You may let it drop, pet.”
She did, hearing the die hit the coffee table again.
He said, “Oh, that’s not too bad. It could have been worse.” God, had she rolled another five? She wasn’t sure her bottom could take that. Actually, she was sure she could take it, for him. “You may open your eyes, pet.”
She did. A three. Fuck.
She could hear him smiling. “Isn’t that cruel? Just one roll too late. Like the dice are teasing you.” She gave him a dirty look. Usually that didn’t get her in too much trouble. Usually.
He acted like he didn’t even notice the look. “Go and get the strap.”
“Yes, Sir. Sir, may I?” She motioned towards the cuffs behind her back, asking if she could slip them under her feet.
“Yes, pet, you may.”
She slipped the cuffs under under her butt, then under her feet, a move she was getting good at. Then she crawled towards the spare bedroom, and the closet they kept all of the toys in.
A moment later, she was crawling back, tasting the leather strap in her mouth. It had the feeling of deja vu, since she’d done the exact same thing twenty-four hours earlier. Deep down, though, a five was one of her favorite rolls. After his hand, the strap was her favorite implement to be spanked with. And the humiliation that came with it…
She crawled to him, sitting comfortably on the couch. He was sending a message on his phone, so she waited patiently. Well, perhaps not patiently, but she knew better than to interrupt her Sir. After two long minutes, he put down the phone and looked at her. He took the strap out of her mouth, then leaned forward and kissed her.
“Okay, pet, get those cuffs behind your back. Then get that tummy on the floor.” She smoothly slid the cuffs over her feet and behind her back, then turned and lowered herself to the floor. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deep. This is so embarrassing. No matter how many times she did it, it didn’t get any easier. Of course she was dripping, too. Part of her craved it like ice cream in August.
“Pet…”
Flat on her stomach, she rotated her body, so she was pointed away from the couch. Her pussy pointed right at him. She spread her legs as wide as she could, as she had to, showing him everything.
“Would you like to rub your clit against the floor, pet?”
“Yes, Sir.” It was the absolute truth. Her clit wanted it. She wanted it.
“You may begin. Edge for me.”
She moved her hips, grinding her clit against the hard floor. It felt so good. And she knew he was watching, which made her blush and drip at the same time.
He brushed the end of the strap against her calf, caressing her with it. “Don’t get there too quickly, my pet. You know what’s waiting for you.”
Yes, she did. But his words only made her hotter. More turned on. She was breathing hard, her clit wanting her to go faster.
“What a naughty girl. I can see how wet you are. You’re not enjoying this, are you? Humping the floor like a naughty girl? And your poor cheeks are already so red.”
Why did his teasing, taunting words have such an impact on her clit? Because he knew her so well?
“Sir, please…”
“Please what, pet?”
“I’m close. Sir, may I please come?”
She already knew what the answer was going to be. After all, she hadn’t rolled a three.
“No, pet, stop. Get that ass up in the air for me.” The wicked truth was she loved to hear him tell her no. Craved it. He owned her, he owned her clit. She came when it pleased him.
She groaned, her clit outraged, as she lifted her ass up into the air. She squirmed up onto her knees, until they were under her, and her ass was high in the air. Defenseless. Helpless. Her body still shuddered from the edge.
She felt more than saw him move behind her. Then the strap caressed her tender bottom. She knew what was coming.
“Ask for it, pet. A dozen.”
“Sir, please, a dozen with the strap. Good and hard, Sir.” She didn’t need to say that last bit. Wasn’t sure why she did.
“Good girl.”
Crack.
The pain, the shock, rumbled through her, building and building, until it felt like her eyes would burst from it. He waited, wanting her to feel each one.
Crack.
Twelve seemed far, far too many. She cried out, hurting.
Crack-CRACK.
The second one surprised her. She let out a loud cry, her body shuddering.
“pet, I know it’s not easy. But you will please me. Get that bottom up. Present it to me.”
She had to respond to the edge in his voice. She had to please him. Nothing would stop her from that. She lifted her ass up, arched her back as far as she could. “Please, Sir…”
Crack.
The buzz slipped in, surprising her. Relief flooded through her. She would make it. She would please him. Biting her tongue, she enjoyed the wicked and sublime dance of pain through her body.
Crack.
Time blurred around her, the strap hitting her bottom, hurting but not. All she could think about was arching up for him, pleasing him.
Crack…crack…crack…crack…
“Good girl.” He stepped next to her, gently eased her on her side, and kissed her. It was a good, long kiss. She was in heaven. He held her there, half-pulling her into his lap. His hand brushed her hair, and she kissed him again. For two or three minutes, maybe longer, he whispered sweet, little things into her ear as he held her. “You are my girl. I’ve got you. All of you. When you are a good girl, and when you’re a bad girl, you’re still all mine.”
“Yes, Sir, you’ve got me,” she whispered back.
Eventually it got uncomfortable, her hands still cuffed behind her back. She looked up at him, and after another kiss, said, “Sir, I’m ready.”
“That’s my good girl. Okay, pet. Hump that floor.” He eased her back down onto the floor, then moved to sit between her spread legs. He’d never sat that close to her before, as she humped the floor, one of his knees touching the inside of hers.
