She has no shame.  None whatsoever. It’s been replaced with confidence and a touch of cruelty. 

“Strip.” She snaps her fingers, expecting – requiring – quick obedience, never mind that the curtains are pulled back and the room is well lit leaving me feeling vulnerable. 

“Stand still.  You’re fidgeting.”

Nervous energy crackles through me as she circles me like prey. Fear wars with anticipation.  Humiliation with lust as I stand at attention, perfectly still, hands clasped behind my back, feet spread slightly, chin up, eyes forward, concentrating on my pose as her fingers trail lightly over my flesh. It gets harder the longer it lasts. Fingertips gliding over bare shoulders. Along the line of my jaw.  Tracking collarbones.  I can’t help but shiver as she toys with the slim silver chain around my throat that defines our relationship, reminding me that I belong to her. 

“Still,” she snaps, this time with her voice, not her fingers, her icy gaze capturing mine until I can’t take it anymore and cast my eyes downward, much to her amusement.

Her nails trail down my arm, then reverse, her touch light.  Less light as she draws them down my back, marking me.  Chuckling as I struggle with silence as pain flare through me and makes a beeline for my already moist sex.

“Such an obedient little pussycat,” she teases, twisting my blonde locks with cruel fingers, turning them into a fist. A sharp tug leaves me staring up at the ceiling, a gasp escaping before I can stifle it.  It earns me a sharp smack on the ass.  A reminder.

“Still means silent.”

I don’t dare reply.  I don’t need to. She knows she has my full attention.

The dichotomy of her touch.  Feather light fingertip caressing my breasts, circling my areola.  Fingers pinching my stiff nipples, engorged with lust, nails pressing into the sensitive nubs until I am forced to bite my lip to keep from crying out as pain ignites within. 

Her smile is sharp, her eyes amused as she grips my face and forces me to meet her eyes.  I can only imagine what she sees. My body is shaking with hunger and I am sure that my pupils are dilated with lust. She continues to twist, nails digging deeper until I am sure the skin is about to break, her eyes on my face, waiting for me to break.  I take a certain amount of pride in disappointing her in that, although I’m unable to keep from gasping for air when she finally releases me, unaware that I’d been holding my breath the whole time.  It earns me another sharp slap, this time between my thighs, sending heat through my dripping wet pussy.  Not expecting that, I let out another soft gasp, immediately chagrined, steeling myself for a following blow.

She surprises me with a tender kiss, full upon my lips.  Her breath is warm and I can taste honey on her lips as I run the tip of my tongue between them, unable to resist the temptation.  Her hand is still between my thighs, stroking my cunt like a well-loved pet, the frustration of remaining immobile building.  All I can think of is grinding myself against her palm.  I can feel my juices welling up within as she idly parts my outer lips with a single digit, applying just enough pressure to make me aware of its presence. 

“My dirty little pussycat,” she teases, wiggling her finger deeper.  Each breath I draw is an effort at first, and then, I feel like I might hyperventilate as she withdraws her finger, adjusting her hand so that the soaking wet tip is pressing against my puckered ass, stroking, pushing, pulse-like, each time penetrating me, slightly deeper each time until I feel her knuckle pushing past my slowly relaxing ring.  I let out a soft moan. 

“Shush.” Her command is punctuated by fingers gripping my throat, gently squeezing, her finger withdrawing from my asshole. My heart is pounding so hard within my chest that I am sure she can hear it, threatening to burst through my ribcage at any moment.  Fear and adrenaline pump through me as her grip tightens, cutting off my air. Just as I feel the stirring of panic rising up within her grip loosens and she kisses me once more.  This time it is her tongue that teases between mine, erasing the fear of a moment ago as her finger and tongue work in tandem to penetrate my mouth and cunt, her warning to remain silent fresh in my mind as she toys with me.

I lose track of everything but her presence.  Time means nothing to me.  The possibility of being seen through the windows of her living room a distant memory.  I live within each heartbeat, each breath, thoughts of anything outside of each moment faded.  I manage not to moan into her mouth as she grinds her palm into my sensitive swollen clit.  I somehow resist my bodies urging to push into her.  I submit to her will as her nails rake down my chest, spreading fire through my tits, down my flanks, and through my ass, digging in as she finally cups one cheek. 

I submit to her, my breathes growing more and more ragged as she unceremoniously forces two more fingers into my slick cunt and fucks me painfully until I am on the verge of losing control, fighting to obey, torn between my body’s desires and her expectations. 

“Enough, pussycat.” She leaves a single finger deep in my sopping wet cunt, my thighs slick and wet, my entire being aching with need as she taps the rectangular plate connecting the chain around my neck. 

“Kitten.”  Her tone is indulgent and I almost purr, unable to keep a shiver from wracking my body as I feel her finger abandon me.

“Maybe later. If you’re a good kitty.”

She traces my lips, leaving them coated with honey, sealing her promise.