Reprecussions

I sit kneeling at the front door trying to stay calm as my heart pounds so forcefully I can hear it thudding in my chest. The sound only makes me more eager; my attention is now keenly devoted to my small supple breasts as they heave under my pale pink satin nightie. My soft brown nipples erect showing just how ready I am for Sir. I sit looking at the tall heavy French doors desperately trying to regulate my breathing. The last thing I want is for Sir to come home and not be pleased with what he sees before him. He likes his things a certain way, all his possessions must be meticulously groomed and cared for... including me. I've been sitting here for almost thirty minutes and I can begin feel a tingling sensation creep up my legs; it feels like pins and needles as my legs fall asleep beneath my thighs.

I turn to take a glance at the glass clock sitting at the end of the long marble hallway. I can barely make it out, but I can see that thirty minutes has progressed to an hour. Where is he? Sir gave me specific instruction to be ready and waiting in his special position at 6:00pm on the dot. Now it's 7:05pm and there is still no sign of my darling Master. Anxiety rushes over me as I try to decide what to do. Is Sir okay? In a flash of panic I raise to my feet, stumble a bit over my numb limbs, and rush to find my cell. I pause momentarily... I'm not supposed to call Sir unless he requests a call at a specific time. But this could be an emergency. I dial his number.

I'm shaking as the phone rings, once, twice, three times and then straight to voicemail. I comforted only slightly at the sound of the even deep tone of his voice on the recorded message. Then I'm paralyzed. He didn't answer.

I walk down the lengthy grey hallway and stop to eye my favorite Salvador Dali painting from his Mythology Suite. Sir has the entire collection, but this particular piece is my favorite; a white pony prancing below a bright blue splash of paint. This piece is softer than some of his other works. I shudder as the juxtaposition makes me think of Sir's duality: soft, attentive and caring and yet strong, stern and intimidating. These paintings are implicitly who he is; wild and twisted, but also tender and beautiful. I'm lost in thought as I hear the key slide and click into the front door's lock, and before I can rush to my position, he's standing there in the doorway.

The sight of him is intoxicating, standing tall in his tailored slate suit, hair neatly combed to one side, grey eyes blazing as he stares at me in the hallway... NOT kneeling before him. I stammer trying to explain, "Oh thank god you're home, Sir. I-I was beginning to get wo—". My words trailed off as the fire grew in his eyes. I turned my gaze to my feet and walk slowly to him, kneeled to my knees and reached for the buttons on his slacks. He grabs my right hand with a swift and firm grip, pushes it away and walks past me down the hallway to his study.

Fuck. I've really messed up this time. Sir is furious and I have no idea what to do to make it better. I sit silently contemplating ways to regain my Master's approval, and then hear his smooth voice call my name from his study, "Eva, come here". My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach and for a moment I can't move a muscle. But that feeling is short lived, any second wasted getting to Sir's side means severe punishment.

The click of my heels against the marble floor haunts me with every careful step. Click. Click. Click. Click—one crimson velvet pump in front of the other. I slide my delicate rose gold collar to the appropriate position as I make my way to Sir.

I am standing in the doorway waiting for instruction as I melt at the sight of Sir sitting in his chair writing. His wavy black hair is a bit disheveled as if he's been running his perfectly manicured fingers trough the tresses. His dark brows are furrowed shadowing his pale grey eyes. Something is on his mind and I don't know if it's work or if it's me. He won't look at me and I can barely look at him as I brush one loose burgundy curl away from my face.

"Eva", he growls and looks up at me for the first time, "What were my specific instructions for you today?"

I can barely choke the words out, "To be waiting in position at the front door at 6:00pm... and I WAS wait—".

"You know I hate excuses, Eva", he hissed in a low controlled voice and continues to write.

"I'm sorry," I say in barely a whisper while my heart pounds.

I see the flash of anger in his eyes as he looks up at me, "Yes, WHAT?"

Fuck fuck fuck! "Sir!" I whimper. "I'm sorry, Sir". Where is my head? What was I thinking? That's the problem, I can't think with him.

"What is wrong with you today, Eva? You fail to complete your one simple task for the day...and you add insult to injury by not addressing me properly? I thought you were my good girl."

My heart sinks lower, past my belly and straight to my feet. I've disappointed him.

"I am your good girl, Sir, I swear! I was just so worr—"

"There we go again with those excuses," he says as he rises to his feet with an evil glint in his eyes and a stone face. I can tell Sir has had a rough day, and I just gave him every reason to take it out on me.

"Take off your gown."

"Yes, Sir," I slide each delicate strap off my shoulders one by one and let the silky pale pink fabric fall in a puddle around my feet. I step out of the puddle carefully and stand still while Sir's eyes wash over me. I feel my nipples getting erect again and see the warm light bouncing off my gold nipple piercings. He's eyeing my puckered nipples as well but isn't pleased, "You don't deserve to be aroused, Eva".

"You don't deserve to feel anything but my dick deep in your throat."

The anxiety hits me like ton of bricks. I have been practicing deep throating but I am not sure if my dick sucking skills are to Sir's standards just yet. I can't fuck up again.

'Yes, Sir. That's all I deserve".

"Shut up and get on your knees", he growls and I do as I am told. The Persian rug feels softer than the marble floor I was kneeling on earlier, thank god. I'm waiting for him to walk over grip my hair, and shove his long, thick, 9-inch dick between red lips. But he doesn't walk over; he just stands there staring that devilish stare.

"I want you on all fours," he says slowly and deliberately. I do as I'm told.

Sir walks slowly to me, stands in front of me for a moment, and then walks behind me. I can feel the desire building in me as my pussy gets warm and begins to beg for him to enter. I can't control her as she prepares herself for her owner; she's getting hot, wet, and aching with longing. I'm shaking now trying to stop the flow of juices from escaping but my efforts are futile.

I can hear Sir shift behind me as he bends down, I can feel the subtle warmth from his breath on the small of my back. Then I feel his finger graze the dripping wet spot forming between my lips.

I'm terrified.

Before I can process the trouble I'm in, I feel a jolt of pain sting over my right ass cheek. I almost yelp, but I hold it in for fear of my blows to come.

"You're still not listening, Eva. Why are you wet when I told you not to get aroused?" he snarls.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to... I didn't want to—"

'Excuses, excuses, excuses".

SMACK

Another hard blow in the same spot. The pain seems to travel through me, I can feel it in my stomach but somehow I'm able to keep silent.

SMACK

And even harder more violent blow and I let out one measly "Oh!"

"Did that hurt, Eva?"

'Yes, Sir"

"Did you like it?" He whispers.

I pause not sure how to answer. I decide I should simply be honest; I can't afford to make another mistake.

"No, Sir." I squeak.

"Good, you don't deserve the kind of pain you like".

I sigh a silent sigh of relief; I finally did something right. He gives me three more swift, hard slaps on each cheek and slides his index finger down my slit one last time. Then he suddenly grabs a fist full of my crimson curls, yanks my head back toward him and slides that same finger in my mouth. I lick his finger clean and begin sucking it like it's his beautiful dick in my mouth. I can sense the rush of pleasure come over him for a moment before he pulls away.

With his composure fully gained he growls, "Get up."

I rise to my feet with him still standing behind me when I abruptly feel his hand tightly around my neck, "Don't fuck with me, Eva" he hisses in my right ear. He uses his other hand to message my clit, dipping one finger in my still lingering wetness, trailing to my sweet nub and making delicious circles. His grip around my neck gets tighter and I can feel my cheeks flush as it gets harder to breathe. I'm reeling as I vacillate between being brought to the brink of orgasm and the feeling of consciousness slipping away. Just as I'm about to simultaneously cum and faint, Sir scoops me in his arms, of my feet and lays me on my back on his desk with head hanging over the sort edge.

With one hand my Master holds my head up, brushes the hair from my face and tenderly caresses my forehead to cheek. "Do you want to be my good girl again, Eva?"

I cough softly and struggle to respond in a whisper, "Yes, Sir".

He sweetly kisses my left cheek and gifts me a deep kiss on my lips. The kiss lingers and I'm lost in the contrast of his warm soft lips and the sensation of his beard scratching my face. I'm completely immersed in my Master when he suddenly pulls away. I open my eyes just he shoves his full length into my mouth; he grips the bottom of my head just above my neck and controls the angle as he slides in and out. I can see nothing but his balls as they meet my forehead repeatedly. I'm gagging and tears are running down my cheeks, but I'm doing my best to relax my throat to allow Sir full access to the deepest parts of me.

He's grunting, growling and heaving as he moves faster and faster. "Yes, Sir, please use my mouth to cum" I think to myself as he pounds harder and harder and I again find it hard to breath. I know my Master, I know his body and I know he's about to cum hard in my mouth.

Then suddenly he pulls out, turns me round and jams deep inside of me from behind. I can't help but scream out breathlessly as I feel his this shaft stretch my tight pussy. One long stroke, 'Oh Sir, you're so big! Ah it hurts," I whimper. He grabs the back of my neck and pushes my head to the desk, giving him better access to my small pink hole. Another long deep stroke and I can feel my body shattering around him. Sir knows my body; he knows just the right angle to make me cum. I am trying hard not to cum too soon and he can tell.

"Don't you fucking cum until I tell you to" Sir snarls in his low even voice. I tighten up and try to think of anything but cuming... but his dick is so good... it's so big... I'm so wet. I can 't hold back! But I HAVE to. He can feel my walls tightening has he pumps faster and harder, "Don't you want to be my good girl again, Eva?"

"Yes" I whisper completely dazed and barely holding on as I feel myself getting wetter and tighter.

"Yes, what?" he growls.

"Yes, Sir!" I cry out nearly in tears.

"Then cum for me."

Not a second after I hear those delicious words and I'm climaxing over and over again. Shutters run through my body as I feel his warm cum releasing inside of me. I'm intentionally tightening around him to squeeze out every last drop and I hear him growling with delight. I collapse beneath him panting and winding my hips with him still inside of me. My body is hot and slowly I begin to feel the soreness in my neck and ass from a moment ago. I revel in it.

Moments pass and we're both regaining control over our breath. It's quiet as he leans over my body, still inside of me, and whispers, "Good girl".

Pure bliss.