“I want you in an outfit that makes you feel like a naughty little school girl who is to be punished by her headmaster” the text read.
My heart leapt into my throat as I took in this information. The next step down into this new world I had stumbled upon. I pulled out my black skirt, white cardigan and knee high white socks…three perfectly acceptable items when separate, but put together they became my punishment garb. I eagerly spent the day lost in fantasies and by the time evening came round my heart was again pounding albeit a little less vigorously with nerves than the first time.
I quietly put on my outfit, complete with the white cotton panties and bra I had bought especially for the occasion under the direction of “Nothing lacy”. In my head I felt at peace – lifes’ internal monologue had stopped and I was looking forward to seeing him again and for the evening’s events, whatever they may be, to get under way. Somehow, all the worries which plague me daily…work, money, time keeping and getting things done…just melted away.
I was left in a heightened state of calm.
I had just tied my laces when the bell went. Opening the door, he looked at me and a brief smile caught his lips. My nerves kicked in – he meant business. After dropping off his bag in my room he got a pad and pen and wrote a single line at the top of the first page:
“I am a naughty little girl and deserve to be punished.”
“Write that out, three sides of A4.” I could feel a mild internal struggle going on between Miss Independent and Sub at this request. It took so long to do lines! But she had played Queen for far too long while I squirreled away all my vulnerabilities, my insecurities, and my need to be cared for and protected, whilst under her rule. It’s about time another side of me has a turn to lead.
Sub sat gleefully at the table, straight backed, ankles crossed, and wrote.
The words spun in my head and I began to believe them, making my own sexual tension heighten as the word ‘punished’ swirled in my mind over and over. I could feel his eyes on me from the sofa where he was reading the paper, occasionally glancing up at me for just a moment and sometimes stopping reading for long swathes of time and just watching. I loved it. I felt under his power, which is somewhere I had not allowed myself to be for anyone for a long time, for fear of rejection and also, frankly, because I didn’t want to be. Something in him drew this quieter side within me out though. I had been the gobby princesses, the bratty, demanding child…but the quiet sub?
She had been ignored, perhaps forever now I come to think of it and she delighted in getting some of his undivided, Dominant attention.
When I had finished I placed the pen down and sat quietly. He asked me to come over and sit on his knee while he looked through my work. Of course I obliged. Once approved, he kissed me and whispered to me “Good girl”. Now I’m not embarrassed to say that spanking was swiftly to become my reward as well as my punishment, depending on the way in which it was delivered. He gestured me to bend over his knee and began, as he had the night before, in doting on my backside. Touching the light bruises which lingered from our first session, stroking the skin up and down my legs, quietly adoring his new sub.
I drifted off into a happy stupor before sinking deeper as his hand slapped against my skin over and over. Bliss.
The freedom in my mind which this afforded was like nothing before – I quickly realised I could naturally zone out almost instantly and just wallow in this pleasurable sense of being neither here nor there. It wasn’t until his fingers followed the same path as the day before that my mind entered a different plane altogether and intense physical pleasure overtook the peace of my rewarded spanking. Once he had had his fill, and mine, he demanded me on to my knees and looked down on me with his intense gaze which had so captured my mind from the second I saw those eyes appear from behind the Raybans…a mere 6 days ago was that?! I considered the crazy speed at which we were moving and then realised that, against all my instincts, I didn’t care. I just wanted to suck his cock. With his hands in my hair, that is what I did. I reveled in his amusement at my playfully, infuriated reaction when he would tug my hair back and tease me by stroking himself right before my frustrated eyes, before pushing my open mouth back down again.
Listening to him orgasm because of me is one of my favourite sounds, and watching and feeling and tasting him simultaneously makes for one very happy little sub.
We did the whole thing again that evening…I’m genuinely sure I have never been as turned on in my life. His need to Dominate was drawing on something animalistic and instinctive inside me which had been locked away and hidden forever.
Lucky him…Lucky me.