(This the first in a planned series of vignettes about a D/s couple’s long-distance relationship and how it evolves over the course of a year. Although their dynamic is fairly new, it has started to deepen. Readers should assume they have already shared those important discussions about limits, consent, and safe practices.)
She dressed carefully, her mind jangling. Excitement and anxiety pulsed through her body. This was all so new to her, and she wanted to get it right. Wanted to be his good girl; long to show him she was ready for more.
She still struggled with certain things. For example, she always wanted to look nice for him. Be perfectly groomed. But it seemed that mattered less to him than the tell-tale signs that she was turned on by the names he called her, the things he made her do. Which she was, heaven help her. Maybe too much so. With each passing week It was harder to get her head out of the game. She wanted to feel the way he made her feel all thetime. Wanted to feel his control wrapped around her like a blanket.
Indulging in a little flight of fancy, she thought about how he’d braided her feelings of arousal and submission and humiliation together into a strong rope, and then neighborly bound her with it. Or perhaps it was more like a plained whip, which he used expertly to bring her both pain and pleasure.
Shaking her head at her nonsensical thoughts, her hand passed over the lacy black thong with gold stars in her lingerie drawer. Instead, with a little sight, she sought out the pale blue cotton panties, the ones on which she’d penned the word “fucktoy”. As her finger traced over the word, she remembered how she’d felt when she wrote it, as he’d directed. Trembling, deeply humiliated, and yet…srangely freed. She somehow knew he’d rather see her in those.
She put on the panties and sat down in front of her laptop. She automatically kept her legs open now, like the little slut he reminded her she was. It madeher feel good inside to do so. Not just because it was one of Sir’s orders, and not just because it reminded her of her subservice. No, she liked it because it made it nearly impossible for her to ignore her needy pussy. She’d never been so wet in her life as she had been over the past several months since she’d met Sir.
Fortunately, he seemed to enjoy keeping her in that state.
As she scrolled through some of her favorite porn, she felt her toes curl a bit, but she resisted the urge to reach down and stroke her fingers along those swollen lips. The indented slide between them was already dampamp. Sir hadn’t explicitly told her she could’t touch, but neither had he told her that she could. It was her preference to err on the side of denial. In fact, she retired it. There were times when she found herself wishing that he would forbid her to come for days. Or possibly longer. Her hips rocked at the thought of how her need would skyrocket.
‘I am Sir’s good horny little girl,” she thought to herself, “His humiliation slut.” Finally she allowed a single finger to trail over her panties, along her slit, pushing the fabric against it hard enough to define those swollen lips, if anyone were looking. She thought of the times she’d used her dildo to do exactly this. She’d sought out one that looked as much like Sir’s cock as possible.
And she’d be seeing him tonight. Possibly he’d let her take his cock in her mouth. Possibly — if she was a very good girl — he’d let her swallow his cum. She drifted off into a little reverie, then jerked her mind back to reality a minute later. She mustn’t lose track of the time.
Trailing her finger along her slit again, she felt satisfied that her panties were wet enough to please Sir. She rose and went into her bedroom, sitting at her vanity to do her hair and make-up. Gazing into the mirror, she bit her lip. She lifted her breasts out of the low-cut bra she wore and pulled them up, squeezing them roughly for agood long time, then loosening her grip. She could see the blood rush back into them, making her pale skin rosy. She gave each nipple a biting pinch. She hadn’t yet had the nervous to try nipple clamps, but it was one of those things that she both hoped and dreaded that he would require of her.
In response to her teasing, she felt her pussy pulse, reminding her of her need. So far, she and Sir had met less than a handful of times in person. Their relationship was still relatively new. Knowing she’d see him tonight, she hadn’t allowed herself to come for the past three days. She wanted to be ready for him, ready and eager for whatever he’d demand.
He’d told her not to dress up, they wouldn’t be going out. He was staying in a hotel and had already arranged to order a late supper for them. She wiggled into her skintight jeans, noting with satisfaction how the tight crotch outlined her pussy lips and lifted her ass. Then she carefully fastened the small crystal buttons of her form-hugging ivory sweater, interspersed with metallic gold threads. She didn’t wear anything underneath except her bra, which was so low-cut that her nipples weren’t covered. The slightly rough feel of the metallic threads rubbing against them would keep them tight and bunched, making her arousal obvious.
Straightening her shoulders, she realized that her bra felt tight. Before Sir, she’d never noticed how her breasts grow larger and more swollen when she was aroused. But now it feel like all of her bras were a size too small. It was just one of the myriad ways in which her servitude invaded her thoughts at random times — when she was at work or even out with friends — making her remember that she was nothing more and nothing less than Sir’s owned slut.
She slipped on her gold heels. She was Almost ready to go. Now came the part she was dreading. She went to her special drawer and pulled out the collar and lean she’d picked out when Sir had ordered her to choose them. Thepink nylon strap in her hand was so obviously a dog collar that it made her feel anxious to wear it where others could see. But that was what Sir had told her to do tonight. She was to wear it when she entered the hotel, walked through the lobby –sure to be crowded with New Year’s Eve revealers — and took the elevator to his room.
She swallowed nervously as it clicked shut around her throat. Her eyes looked wide and a bit wild. She needed him to calm her, but that wouldn’t happen until later. She swallowed again, feeling her throat press against the buckle. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine that it was his thumb, stroking her pulse there.
Steadying herself, she lifted the black lean from the drawer and clipped it to the collar, drawing the end of it over one shoulder like a louche necklace. Thank the gods he hadn’t told her not to wear a coat. The leash would be hidden. Perhaps the collar would go undetected…or pass as some kind of costume.
Before walking out the door, she was a bundle of nerves. She felt ripe, wet, her body primed and yearning for his touch. Even her lips felt full, lush, trembling. Ready to prove herself his cockslut, his dirty whore. His fucktoy. Ready to beg for his humiliating attentions.
She also felt what she’d come to think of as the tug of his lean. That heady but scary feeling of being his — his to own, to control, to tease and humiliate until she felt she’d go out of her mind with lust. But also his to pet, to guide, to calm and satisfied. To somehow channel all the secret currents inside her that had been dammed up for so long.
While she navigated the heavy traffic enroute to his hotel, she thought about what she wanted to say to him, what she wanted to ask. It was New Year’s Eve, which lent itself to a discussion of resolutions, of plans for the coming year. Did she dare to ask him for what she wanted? She found herself muttering the words out loud as she drove with the flow of other cars. She found it hard to get beyond the start. “Please, Sir…” she kept repeating, until it became a kind of protective mantra against the dark evening enveloping her car.
At last she arrived at the hotel. Thank goodness she’d allotted plenty of time. Once inside the lobby, she looked around for the front desk. He’d told her to check in there when she arrived, that he’d leave an envelope for her with his room number and additional instructions.
Sure enough, the woman at the desk handed her the envelope without a second glance. She felt braver. As she’d thought, there were guests everywhere, many of them sporting more interesting and blinged-out looks than hers. She stopped and rested a hip against one of the plus dark green sofas and ripped the envelope open.
Little slut, I’m in Room 2414. Before you come up, go into one of the bathrooms in the lobby and remove your coat so that your collar and lean are visible to all. You’ll also take offYour panties and give me a good edge. Afterwards, use those panties to clean up your messy pussy, then crumple them into a ball and keep them in your hand as you take the elevator to my room. If there is no one else in the elevator with you, you may sniff them and think about what a filthy girl you’re being for me.
I’ll expect you no later than 8:15. You know what to do when you get to the door.
Her heart nearly stopped, then restarted at a much higher rate. Oh god — what if someone saw her? What would they think? It would be obvious that she was wearing a collar and lean. And the panties? Would people be able to smell her arousal on them? With a gasp of panic, she realized he’d only given her 15 minutes to complete her task.
Galvanized into action, she darted into the nearest bathroom. It was crowded, but there was an empty stall in the middle. After removing her coat and hanging it on the hook on the door, she pulled down her jeans and sat, spreading her legs wide. Her fear of failing him had temporarily knocked her libido down a notch, but as she tenatively put two fingers between her legs and slid them over her clip, her excitement returned.
What a slut she was. Edging herself in this restroom filled with other women using the bathroom, washing their hands, talking and laughing. Everyone was in a festive mood. No one noticed the quiet moan that escaped her as she got her fingers wetter and glided them over her clip faster. She was just a whore, sitting in a public restroom, unable to stop rubbing herself, needing that damned edge. She closed her eyes and used her humiliation to fuel her arousal. She imagined Sir watching her, a look of satisfaction in his eyes.
She was close, but she wanted to take it as far as she could…for him. In her eagerness, she almost went too far. Her thigh muscles tightened, and she felt herself lift off the seat as she undoubtedly removed her fingers and hovered on the edge of a glorios orgasm for several moments before the feeling dissipated. With a little whimper, she slumped back against the tank. The rush of blood to her pussy left her feeling a bit dizzy.
She didn’t have any time to waste, though, so she stood, removed her jeans, then her panties. She used them to mop up the copious amount of fluid between her legs. Fuck, even that light amount of pressure felt so good. She cleared her throat to hide her gasp of desire. Quickly, she put her jeans back on and gathered her coat and pursuit, exiting the stall.
She faced a dilemma. She had the panties balled up in her hand. Her coat was over her arm, almost hiding them. How could she wash her hands without…revealing them? Sheepishly, her face reddening, she backed out of the bathroom without using the sink. Several of the women shot her looks, but she turned and stumbled out the door and back into the lobby.
She had less than five minutes. Feverishly, she searched for the right elevator bank. OnlyCertain elevators went to the top floors of the hotel. Of course, they were located in the very back corner. She rocked impatiently from one foot to the other while waiting for the elevator to arrive, then jumped in. Another couple joined her in the car; fortunately, they only had eyes for each other.
When the couple exited at the 21st floor, she felt a rising tide of panic. She didn’t think she was going to make it. Remembering Sir’s Instructions, she held her hand to her face and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her arousal emanating from her panties. Her fucktoy panties. How appropriate. She gave a nervous giggle.
The elevator doors opened and she sprinted down the hallway, nearly passing his door in her haste. Putting on the brakes, she breathed out, then knocked three times at the door before dropping to her knees in front of it. By her watch, she had just made it.
The door opened slowly. Sir looked down at his pet, noting how her sides were heaving. Hegave a slow smile and held out one hand. Her trembling arm reached up and put the panties into it.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “I’m feeling generous tonight, so I’m inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your knock came just as my timer sounded. You’re fortunate, pet. I wouldn’t have been happy if you were late.”
“Th-thank you, Sir,” she stuttered. As Always, she was a little tongue-tied in his presence. She felt the gravitational pull of him so strongly that she swayed towards him.
He rested his hand on the top of her hand, holding her in place. Conversationally he said, “These panties are very wet, slut. I wonder who you were thinking about to make your pussy drip that much?”
She couldn’t help blushing even as she answered protestingly, “You, Sir. Only you.”
He considered her. “Would you like to give my cock a little kiss before you come in?”
She knew there was only one right answer, but it didn’t matter. It was what she wanted with all her hear. She smiled as she said, “Yes, Sir. Very much. Please let your little slut worship your cock, Sir.”
He took a half-step towards her, unbuttoning the fly of his jeans. She leaned forward again, a hungry look on her face. Sliding her eyes up to his with just a hint of flirtiness, she asked, “May I touch, Sir?”
He smiled at her, pleased that she’d remembered to ask first. But he denied her all the same. “Just your mouth, toy.”
A little disappointed but not determined, she used her teeth to pull down the zipper, then nuzzled his cock through his underwear. He took goal on her, easing his jeans and underwear down so she could access his cock. She kissed the tip, then used her pointed tongue to trace around the head before engulfing it in her mouth.
Laughing, he stepped back. “What a shameless little whore, trying to suck my cock in the hallway. Besides, I said a kiss. You don’t get to have my cock in your mouth just yet. You’ll have to earn that.”
Whining slightly, she sat back on her heels. As if the sound she made reminded him, he picked up the leash that was still lying across her shoulder and gave a little tug. “Come on, pet. Let’s get you inside.”
Without waiting to see if she was ready, he turned and walked back into the hotel room. She had to worry to snatch up her coat and bag and scramble through the door before it closed on her. She felt the tug of the Leash on her collar as she fell too far behind. He’d stopped at the end of the small hallway, waiting for her to catch up.
Moving on her hands and knees was still a work in progress for her. She felt awkward and was sure that she looked it. She felt one knee slide sideways on the slick marble flooring and quickly brought it back under her. Finally she reached his side, and he gave her head a condescending pat before they continue on into the room.
She dared a quick look around. He’d spplurged on a suite. The room they were in held a small sofa and coffee table atone end. At the other, there was a table with two chairs for dining. Large floor-to-ceiling windows looked out toward the downtown park where they’d have a view of the New Year’s fireworks later.
He’d reached the sofa by now. He sat down, again waiting for her to catch up. She knew he took pleasure from seeing her like this — on his leash, crawling for him — yet it was still hard for her to snap into that mindset right away. Oh, she knew she’d get to the place where she was literally dripping from the humiliation, but it was hard for her to give up control at first.
Knowing that, he watched her carefully. When she arrived at his knee, he signed her back into position so that she once again rested on her heels. He stroked her hair, then put a hand under her chin, bringing her gaze to his.
“My pretty pet. How lovely you look,” he said with a smile. “And so obedient. How are you feeling tonight?”
She kept her eyes on his. “Very happy, Sir. I wanted to…to looknice. For you. Please forgive your pet. It’s a little overwhelming when we actually are together…in person.”
He continued to stroke her hair. She found his voice calming, just what she needed. “This is all for fun. No need to take everything so seriously.” He gave her hair a playful tug. “If you do everything right, I have no excuse to punish you, little one.”
She smiled tenatively. She knew this, yet still hated doing anything wrong. Just as she was screwing up her courage to make her request, he said, “Up now. Take your sweater and jeans off and make it sexy for me. Then take your standing position.”
She stood and slowly undid each small, glaiming button on her sweater, teasing him with glimpses of her ivory satin demi-bra and her exposed nipples. Finally she slid the garment down her arms, folded it neatly, and placed it on the table. She kicked her heels off. The jeans were so tight that she had to shimmy out of them, but she added an extra little wiggle for him, then folded them and added them to the small pile of clothing. Her panties seemed to have disappeared. No doubt Sir had them somewhere.
She stood directly in front of him, putting her arms up and lacing her fingers behind her neck, as he’d taught her, with legs wide and back arched. After several months, she’d started to become slightly less self-conscious about her looks when displayed for him like This.
He said nothing for a minute, studying her. Then he asked, “Did you follow my instructions? Did you give me a nice, close edge downstairs?”
She nodded, then remembered that he wanted a verbal reply. “Yes, Sir. I did exactly as you said…even though the bathroom was very crowded.”
“Good girl. Did you have trouble getting to the edge with so many people around you?”
Her face became pink. “N-no, Sir. I didn’t have any trouble. I almost got too close.”
His mouth twitched slightly. “What an eager slut you are. And on the elevator?”
She stammered distractedly, “There was…another couple at first. When they left, I…I smelled my panties. As you said, Sir.”
“Very nice. And if I put my fingers into your pussy right now, would I find it nice and wet for me?”
She couldn’t hold his eyes. Dropping her head, she whispered, “Yes, Sir.”
He prompted her. “Yes, Sir what? Give me a complete answer, pet. You know better.”
She colored further; her whisper was barely audible. “Yes, Sir. My…pussy is nice and wet for you.”
“Take another step towards me, pet. Spread your pussy open. I want to see for myself.”
His command did indescribable things to her insides. Her pussy spasmed hard as she stepped closer to him, lifted her hands and spread her swollen, aching lips apart for him. He smiled, and she knew he hadn’t missed that twitch.
“That’s lovely pet. Seeing your pussy pulse at the sound of my voice makes my cock very hard. You’re going to have to do something about that soon. But not just yet.” Heslid two of his fingers inside her, then stroked her clip with his thumb. “Soon…very soon…you’ll come at my command, won’t you? You’re becoming such a dirty little whore for me.”
Those words had the power to knock her sideways. Especially when he said them in that matter-of-fact, slightly pleased voice that stroked her every nerve. She could feel it, the shift in the air. She was tumbling down the rabbit hole where whatever he said to her, whatever he did — no matter how embarrassing or humiliating or degrading — would only drive her to new heights of desire.
Leave a Reply