The Door

The phone rang. Looking at the number on the display, he smiles. A brief hello, and he buzzes her through and the night begins. Nervously he paces, muttering to himself about control, about being strong and above all, the one in charge. The knock at the door, it is hesitant, scared. He moves silently and looks out the peep-hole and there she stands, her face a little pale from the long winter. Her hair cut and styled to resemble a doll, with little make up. He breathes deeply. Breathing is important he keeps telling himself for if he didn't he is sure he would stop entirely. The knock comes again; say something!

"Yes?" he tries to sound somewhere between irritated and amused. He does not want to sound eager, as though he were just pacing and waiting for her.

"Hello Sir, it's me" comes her hushed tone. He knew it was her; he had just been looking out at her after all. Well, the moment of truth.

"Ah, hello sunshine," responds cheerfully, repeatedly telling himself not to do it, she would never do it. But he would never know otherwise. His voice is a forced steady as he gives the command, inside quivering like jell-o as he watches through the peep-hole to her reaction, "undress."

"S-sir?" comes the stammered reply. Her cheeks are a bright red as she looks up and down the hall. A trapped rabbit she hisses to the door, "out here? Everything...? Sir?"

He nods to the door, then realizes she cannot see him, "yes, everything right where you are." He had said it. The command given and he could not take it back now. His heart raced as he watched her fidget and look up and down the hall again. Would this all come crashing down right now, here with a door between them before he could even touch her, enjoy her?

She swallows hard, looks once more than slightly more than a whisper answers him, "y-yes Sir." Her hands come up shaking to her jacket zipper and she pulls it down. The simple act of taking off her jacket has her shaking as she keeps looking up and down the hall, petrified that someone may come around the corner. He watches her, palms sweaty and praying that her fear does not come true. It was one thing to play like this, push her. It was another to get her arrested or get him kicked out of the building.

The jacket crumples to the floor and she starts to unbutton the blouse she wore. Each button popping out of its hole as he stares, transfixed to his peep-hole; a true pervert his mind tells him but he cannot stop watching. Of course he could not. He told her to do this and she was. The blouse is shrugged off her shoulders and is added to the jacket on the floor. His breath catches as he sees her breasts restrained by a lacy white bra. The innocence of white atop her near alabaster skin nearly breaks his steel as he fights the urge to pull open the door and take her right then and there. His heart hammers as she begins to unbutton her jeans.

As she slides the pants off her slender legs he shakes. She looks less and less up and down the hall, gaining courage and losing inhibitions. She steps out of her jeans and looks up to the door, "do you want my stockings off too?"

A question, she spoke and now his mind raced. Did he want her in her stockings, and the high heels he noticed on the floor behind her? "Yes, keep them on." An automatic response came from his lips before his mind had really decided. She nods and keeps going.

Reaching behind her she unhooks her bra and then with a quick scared glance checks the hall once more, drops the bra and quickly pulls her underwear off as well. Her breasts were not large and defied gravity to a degree. Her pelvis was bare and smooth, inviting to the eye and later a host of other things. She stood about five feet, eight inches tall, long slender legs, a flat stomach and soft skin with a small mole here and there.

She fidgets more now, noticeably agitated as she is nude in the hallway of a strange building waiting for him to open the door. Inside his mind is blank, stunned that she did it. Stunned at the gorgeous creature standing there for him. Stunned that he actually held that power, a power she just freely gave him. She looks up and down again then questions, "s-Sir, is there anyth-thing else?"

It snaps him back to reality and he quickly unlocks the door and allows her to enter, hearing the elevator's ding just as she steps through the passage with her clothes and belongings gathered in her arms. It was close, and he knew that she realized it as well. Once inside she drops the pile on the floor and looks at him for a second before dropping her eyes and clasping her hands behind her back, "hello, Sir." Her voice is small, meek, and giving. A slight tremble causes her breast to shake a touch and he simply stares.

He had dreamed of this. Planned it. Rehearsed and went over in his mind for the past week each step of the evening, each toy, each command, each nuance so that he would be perfect. She had some experience, which was more than he had. And in his mind, there was a built up expectation he set for himself to be perfect. Now, all that planning, all those ideas, and the unfounded expectation he had for himself vanished as the girl stood there before him, nude and waiting to please him. His mind was blank and his heart raced looking at her.

She raised her eyes a little bit and saw him staring at her dumbfounded. A small smile creped across her lips as it sank in what was the problem, why he was not saying anything. With little hesitation she raises her hand and places it on his shoulder, speaking softly, "you're doing great Sir, breathe and take your time. I am in no rush." She takes a breath and grins, "You are the first that ever made me strip in the hall, and I cannot believe how excited it made me." She lowered her eyes and hand and waited, hoping the encouragement would help him and move him along.

Her touch awakened him, and her words sank in quickly to reanimate his brain, his plans returned and he smiled. Her encouragement and admission renewed his outlook and filled him with a bit of pride; she was excited at him having her strip in the hall. His head nods a little, as if agreeing with an unspoken voice and he lets his eyes travel over her.

"Whenever you are here, you will not wear clothes unless I give you specific permission," he instructs her.

She nods, "yes Sir." It was something she'd heard before then a thought strikes her. "Sir?"

"Yes?" He already had an idea of what was coming

"Do I have to undress in the hallway every time?"

"Of course," he replies. Her breathing increases as she feels a tingle of excitement. She had always had a fantasy of showing off, being seen and caught. Now here was a man who was making her live out that fantasy. She couldn't deny what it did to her.

"Yes Sir."

"Come over here," he walks to a mark on the floor. She stands on the mark and looks around quickly, there are three lamps pointed at her and when he turns them on, she is lit up like a display. He walks around her, looking up and down her body carefully, inspecting her. His confidence growing quickly as she stands there with her hands behind her back, head down.

Her heart races, another long time desire, to be put on display and inspected, like a choice cut of meat for him. His eyes travelling over her body causes her to quiver, like pins pricking her all over. She tingles and feels her wetness grow. With a heaving chest she says just above a whisper, "do you like what you see, Sir?"

The room is suddenly filled with a loud crack as his hand connects with her bottom leaving a print behind. He places his lips beside her ear and whispers, "do not speak unless asked to." The sting burns through her more for the admonishment than the actual slap. It did nothing to abate the river forming inside her passage.

"Yes, Sir," she whispers back, not trusting her voice any more than that.

His hand on her ass squeezes then starts the slide down the crack, probing between her legs and caressing her exposed lips. She arches her back and lets out a small moan, for a man who was so nervous and lost when she walked in, he was doing well to play her now. Her belly fluttered along with his fingers, it was going to be a good day she thought; as long as he did not deny her.

His hand shook as he touched her. This was not the first woman he'd been with, nor was he inexperienced in anyway. Somehow the whole situation put his nerves on edge as he groped and inspected her. His breathing was quick; his heart hammered as he fought between focusing on what he was doing, and trying to accept that he actually had this submissive little pet to play with. Dream upon dream came true for him, and he was sure that any moment he would wake up from this.

He walked back around her and places a finger crooked under her chin and raises her head so he can look at her face. Her eyes meet his then instantly drop. She trembles noticeably as he holds her. His thumb caresses her lips as he smiles, "how many cocks have you sucked?" The words are forced out; he tries to make them sound real, like he used them all the time. But he stumbles a little on cock and inside he curses hoping she didn't call him on his act. It was an act really. He was a soft spoken, nice guy most of the time. But his inner demon always knocked on his brain and he finally was giving into it. Partly he spoke out of inflated ideas and expectations. Partly he spoke out of longing desire to be the nasty guy who said what his mind thought.

She silently gasps. She knew such a question would come up and her eyes dart to his before falling again this time in embarrassment. But why was she embarrassed? Was the number too low? Would he think her too inexperienced for him? Oh how she did not want to displease him. "F-four S-sir." She squeaks out the words, her cheeks lit bright red.

He smiled back, amused and delighted. Part of his mind was disappointed as well. Low on experience in terms of quantity, but quality was what was important. He continues to caress her lips, slipping his thumb in a little to her mouth and smiling with a delight as her lips curl around and suck on his digit. The teasing of her sensitive folds had awakened the sleeping slut and she craved him now. The energy in the room was rising and both knew what was coming.

"Do you enjoy sucking cock, Pet?" He offered the pet name to her and liked how it rolled off his tongue.

Her eyes lit up a little at being given a nickname and she stops sucking and nods, "yes Sir." He named her. She did not know why it meant so much to her. It was their first real play time but it solidified that connection that had been growing for months now.

"Did all four of those cocks fuck you as well?" he asks.

"No Sir, only three did," she admits.

The interrogation continues as she shifts on her feet, riveted to the spot and feeling the warmth of the lamps on her skin. "Have you taken it up the ass before?" his voice was becoming surer, feeling more comfortable with his role and enjoying her reactions to his word choices.

She swallows and nods, her cheeks getting redder, if such a thing were possible. "Yes Sir," she whispers.

"And do you like it?" He probes.

"Yes Sir."

"Good." Her heart skips a beat. Did that mean he was going to today? It had been some time; she was not ready for it today. Oh please, she prayed, do not let him today, I can't today.

His hand trails down to her shoulder and then over her collarbone—the touch ripples like electricity in her flesh. The fingers move lower and the palm of his hand cups over her breast, massaging it and giving a gentle squeeze. Her body arches into the caress; a moan escapes her lips. He was playing her like an instrument. His touches his caresses, his words all found their mark and he'd yet to do anything more than spank her bottom once for speaking out of turn. She felt a tinge of fear rising as she considered what he would leave her as if this was her reactions now before he even got going. Her mind drifted back to the door. The sight of it closed with just his voice directing. Her hands had moved out of instinct; trembled with fear at being caught. Or was it excitement. Now she stood inspected and seemingly approved.

She lost sight of his feet. Where did he go? She stood as still as possible, her stomach turning as he was away. It was silly she thought, I know him, but I'm not attached to him. Yet she already missed his nearness and her heart raced when she heard his feet returning. His fingers trace up her back and draw over the back of her neck. She feels a chill on her spine as he slips a simple collar around her neck. There was no fanfare, no ceremony. She knew this was to play, yet it meant something inside none-the-less; he was claiming her. Her breathing became faster and more ragged as he clipped the chain to her collar—a leash!

The lights are turned off and a gentle tug on the leash tells her its time for her to move. She follows him across the room to a comfortable looking couch. He sits and smiles, nodding to the floor beside his feet, "do you like hockey?"

She looked at him a moment, considering the odd question then nods as she tries to sink to her knees elegantly. Failing she ends up more plopping down and resting her head on his knee, "yes Sir, of course."

"Good, the game is just starting." He strokes her hair like a pet before he speaks again. "During the first period you will suck me off during the commercial breaks, and otherwise sit quietly and chat during play. If you get me off before the buzzer, you will be rewarded during the intermission. If not, you'll be punished." He grins at her, his mind knowing that it was somewhat unfair to set such terms given his love/hate with oral sex. He loved it, and hated that he rarely found full release from it.

She nods, "yes Sir." Her mind raced, why would he offer such a condition, surely she figured she could rise to the challenge of making him rise to the occasion. She lays her head on his knee as the game starts and teases her fingers along his leg through his jeans. Suddenly she lets out a loud yelp as her scalp burns from his fingers intertwined in her hair.

"Do not touch, or entice during the game, pet. That's cheating and punishable."

She nodded quickly and rests her hands on her lap, answering his questions about her likes and dislikes until the first commercial comes on. She rises on her knees, fumbles with his pants and manages to get his manhood free before the play resumes. With a little sigh she sinks back to her knees and watches the game more, almost wishing a player to cause a disturbance.

Then it happens, broken glass. Her chance to shine as she starts to work her magic on his shaft. Her fingers lightly glide up and down, holding him up as she parts her lips and sinks over his cock. Her cheeks hollow, her lips purse and her hand strokes. She swirls her tongue over the head and silently wishes that they cannot find a replacement for the glass. Her wishes are lost this time as the game resumes and she sinks back to her knees to look up at the hard shaft waiting for her again. Standing erect; a naughty lollipop taunting her to taste again though he had not permitted it. She wondered what the punishment would be for taking him in her mouth when he watched the game.

He sat there watching the game, but not really registering it. What had he gotten into with this one? It was a great idea in the planning but now that she was actually sucking on him, it was very hard to keep his mind on his focus of holding off his release. His eyes rolled, his throat let out moans and his fingers plied her hair. Finally the game came back on and he sighed a little as she stopped. She would get rewarded he suspected if she kept up this effort on him.

The game progressed, both the one on television and the one they played. Each break in the action a more intense action would start up with her mouth trying to coax out his seed. Her fingers raked and fondled his sac, her cheeks hollowed and she even took him into her throat in her effort to win. She practically dripped as she serviced him, his smell, his taste being intoxicating. With each deep motion onto him he groaned, the intense feeling bringing him a little closer but somehow not able to push him over the edge.

The number of people who had taken him to the brink and beyond he could count on one hand. He almost felt bad at the task he had given her being almost impossible he thought. Her efforts worked, he was hard as a pipe and wanted to let go. He relaxed, he tensed the muscles, he did what he could but something just could not push him over.

The game stopped once more with less than a minute to go and it was do or die and she put in one last effort. Swirling her tongue over the head she placed a finger between his sac and his anus and pressed against his prostate from the outside. His cock jumped and he moaned loudly. The game restarted but she kept going, hearing the announcer give the thirty second warning. Her mouth sucked greedily while her finger pressed and wiggled against him. Fifteen seconds and she deep throated him, sucking up slowly as she drew off. Ten seconds and she cupped his balls with the other hand giving a gentle squeeze. Five seconds and she was giving it her all. Her head bobbing fast.

Four, three, two, one....

...To be continued.