You promised that if I behaved and continued to demonstrate my devotion, then we could truly play. On the night you intend to make good on that promise, I stand nervously on your doorstep, fussing with my skirt and tousled hair.
You’ve definitely had your way with me before, but tonight I am to submit to your will completely, and I’m filled with the longing to offer myself up to you without question. It’s a longing that only comes from being truly dominated, by someone I know I can trust implicitly.
While my outfit isn’t too fancy at first glance - snug cotton mini skirt, scoop-neck top, soft cardigan - I’ve done my best to add delicate touches. My heels strap twice across my ankles, so they already look restrained. Under the skirt and top, I wear a delicate lace thong and matching bra, complimented by the garters that hold up sheer, black stockings.
After glancing at my window reflection to touch up my red lipgloss, I press your buzzer.
In mere moments I hear your footsteps, casually descending the stairs before you open the door. As always, your unbridled gaze is the first thing to penetrate me. You look me up and down slowly, drinking in every detail.
Your boyish charm makes me weak in the knees every time I see you. Your rakishly unkempt pompadour, those soulful Elvis-eyes… there’s that same army necklace you always wear, casually leading my gaze down the few opened buttons of your shirt, to the subtle slope of your breasts underneath. You smell so good, it’s all I can do to keep myself from lunging at you… but you’re the boss here, and I intend to follow your lead.
Kissing my cheeks in your European fashion, you take my hand and guide me toward the stairs, so I’ll climb them in front of you. Such is our standard practice… from the very first night, you’d been quite candid with me about how much you enjoyed the view.
“Mmm… you wore garters for me.”
I smile over my shoulder, pleased that you’d already noticed.
“Just for you.”
With a playful slap of my ass, you nudge me to the top of the stairs. I’m still getting used to the relaxed grandeur of your loft. The floor-to-ceiling windows look out over Granada, offering up a stunning view of the Alhambra.
Wasting no time, you come up behind me and press me against the closest pane of glass, running your hands over my body, your mouth on my neck.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day…”
“Mmhmm… and the thought of you, coming over here just to serve me and do my bidding… mmm… it got me all worked up…”
Your hand slips under my skirt, between my legs, while the other tugs at the neckline of my shirt. You kiss me, slow and deep… then your fingers slide up my neck, to my face, and into my mouth. Your voice low and seductive, you whisper in my ear…
“So I’m afraid you have to wait your turn.”
Stepping back, you release me from your grasp, leaving my small whimper in your wake. With a wicked grin, you take my hand and lead me to the center of the room.
“Get on your knees.”
I obey at once, wincing at the firmness of the hardwood floors. Always aware of my comfort - even in moments of intentional pain - you look down at me with concern.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little,” I confess.
Grabbing a small pillow from the couch, you guide me up just enough to slide the cushion under my knees. I can’t help but smile at your kindness, especially knowing how much torment you have in store for me.
“Thank you, what?”
“Thank you, Master. That’s much more comfortable.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s see… we don’t want to make things too comfortable for you…”
Reaching down, you pull my skirt above my waist. Upon further examination, you tug my panties to just around my thighs, leaving my ass and increasingly wet pussy fully exposed. When you stroke my ass cheeks softly, I can’t help but arch my back, leaning into your touch.
With a sharp smack you correct me.
I do my best to comply while you fondle me, though it isn’t easy. Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, you let go of me. Walking across the room to sit in an armchair, you take your time studying me. Either you’re contemplating what to do next, or making me wait for the sake of waiting under your watchful gaze… either way, it’s very, very effective.
“Take off your cardigan.”
Obeying at once, I’ve barely removed my sweater when you add the instruction of pulling my top down to display my breasts for you. As soon as they’re stripped bare, you grin.
“Crawl over to me, slowly. And bring the pillow, in your mouth.”
Backing off the pillow, I bend forward and pick it up with my teeth. It’s cumbersome, but not unmanageable. In my partially undressed state, crawling feels especially naughty and vulnerable, which of course turns me on even more.
I make my way as slowly as I can, feeling the heat of your stare on my body, so pliant in its obedience to your will.
When I reach you, you lift my chin and prompt me back up on my knees, placing the pillow underneath them once more. With the lightest stroke, you make my nipples stand at attention for you, causing my breath to grow ragged with longing.
“Do you like that?”
“Mmm… god, yes…”
“Would you like me to torment your beautiful tits some more?”
“Oh… y-yes… please…”
With a smirk and an easy sigh, you lick your lips and murmur in my ear.
“I do love to hear you beg…”
Your fingers caress the tops of my breasts, then slide back to my nipples. Shivers run through my body as you circle them with your thumbs… then you ‘tsk’ and lean back in the chair, leaving me aching for more.
“But I’m afraid it’s still not your turn.”
I bite back my whimper and eke out a small “Yes, Master.”
“I want you back on all fours.”
I do as you command, and while I wait as patiently as I can, you undress the lower half of your body. Making yourself comfortable, you settle into the armchair and grab a fistful of my hair, guiding me between your legs.
“If you’re a good girl and you make me come, then - and only then - it will be your turn. Understood?”
A thrill goes through my body. You haven’t let me pleasure you yet, and I’d been aching for you, wondering if you’d ever allow it. You couldn’t have found a more eager and willing servant.
Exposed as I am, on my hands and knees, I’m already so aroused I’m practically trembling as I lean forward to put my mouth on you. Sneaking a glance up at you, I watch you moan and relax into the chair, yielding to the touch of my tongue between your legs. It’s been so long, I worry I might not remember how… but I quickly realize that erotic acts are a lot like riding a bike. Once you’ve mastered them, your body knows what to do.
My body wriggles with longing as I stroke and lick and tease your clit, relishing the feeling of your hand clutching my hair, holding me in place.
I hear that signature chuckle of yours escape your lips - bemused, cocksure. I look up to see you watching my ass, as it twitches back and forth.
“Do you like pleasing me, pet?”
I lift my head just enough to nod.
“Yes, Master. So very much…”
“Hmm, let’s see… spread your knees apart. Wider.”
As I comply, you slip your hand between my legs to find me soaked, dripping with desire. You chuckle again.
“You really like it, don’t you? Not that I’m surprised. You’re such a naughty, dirty girl… of course you love it.”
And with that, you take your fingers, covered in my juices, and slip them into my mouth.
I moan and nod, my mouth full of your fingers. You unceremoniously take them away from me with a brash little grin.
“I love it. I love pleasing you.”
“On all fours? With your naked ass squirming and jiggling for me, and your naughty little tits on display?”
I swear my nipples harden at the mere sound of your words.
“Y-yes… Yes, Master.”
Nibbling my ear, you lick down my neck, your breath hot on my skin.
“Tell me why. Why do you love it?”
“Um… because… it’s um, what I deserve? I d-deserve to be used, for your pleasure…”
“Mmm, mmhm… that’s exactly right. Now get back to work, dirty girl.”
As you pull me toward you, you tighten your grip on my hair, making me moan into your wetness. Your hips buck under me, and I do my best to stay in rhythm with you, wanting nothing more than to bring you to climax. I feel powerful, even in my state of submission, knowing I can give you that release. That you’re trusting me to do as you’ve instructed, and are giving me the gift of letting me please you.
My hands itch to grab onto your legs, bracing myself against you, but you haven’t told me I can move them, so I tap into my will and stay firmly on all fours.
I alternate between circling your clit with my tongue and exploring the full extent of you, until you hold me firm, pressing me deeper into you as your moans become husky and low. I lap you up, relishing the taste of you.
“That’s it… right there… that’s my good girl…”
I whimper against you as you clutch my hair with both hands, your body arching with abandon. You cry out, just enough to let me know I’ve served you well. With a shudder, your hands and body relax, letting me rest my face against your thigh, soft skin over strong muscle. I smile, nuzzling you, honored to be the one you chose to give you pleasure.
Your hand gently strokes my hair and face, languid and tender. With a satisfied sigh, you sit up and take hold of my chin, caressing my lower lip. I wait for you to speak, but you simply study me, your gaze taking me in. Bashful, I lower my lashes.
“Did I do a good job for you, Master?”
“Mmm… yes. You were a very good, obedient girl, and you pleased me very much.”
I smile again, biting my lip.
“Thank you, Master.”
Pulling me close, you kiss my face, my neck, my shoulder…
“You must be thirsty.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right, of course. You are always so good at anticipating my needs, and making sure I’m cared for even as I prostrate myself before you.
I nod, and you stand, slipping back into your briefs.
Watching your long, lean body walk to the kitchen stirs up the tinglings between my legs. I’m surprised to see you return not with water, but with a collar and leash.
“Up on your knees… Now take off your top.”
As I follow orders, you seem to bask in my obedience. I begin to wonder myself what I wouldn’t do for you… I can’t think of much.
“And your bra… give it to me.”
Left in my garters, stockings, and heels, my panties slide down around my knees. You don’t instruct me otherwise, so I leave them there.
Taking my bra, you murmur something about how beautiful it is, then drape it over your mantle like a trophy. Turning back to me, you crouch down and fit me with the collar.
“We already know how much you like to serve me.”
“I thought we could find out if you also like being my pet.”
My face flushes and I bite my lip, wide-eyed, wondering exactly what that means. I glance around the room and am relieved to not see any cages. I haven’t had to use my safe word with you at any point, but that’s a limit I couldn’t push, not even for you.
You attach the leash to the collar, then direct me back onto all fours. Leading me across the room, back toward the windows, you’re highly complimentary of me, telling me how much you enjoy the sight of me crawling next to you, dutiful and compliant.
Allowing me to remove my panties to make crawling for you easier, you then parade me up and down the length of the loft, guiding me in your gentle yet commanding manner. You tell me how beautiful I am, and how deeply it pleases you to watch me succumb to your will. I don’t feel the least bit degraded, only cared for and treasured. That intimacy… knowing how much you adore me and will take care of me… it only makes me want to yield to you more. Every inch of me belongs to you. I belong to you now.
In front of the largest window, you’ve placed a spotlessly clean, stainless steel pet dish and filled it with water. I can’t tell what kind of view anyone outside might have, but if they can see into this loft, they’ll see me, stripped mostly naked and drinking from a pet dish on all fours. Somehow, the idea isn’t humiliating… it simply sends shivers of anticipation through my body.
You command me to drink, but when I start to crouch down, you correct me.
“Bend from the waist. I want you to stick that beautiful ass of yours up nice and high for me… mmm… that’s very good. Now spread your knees again.”
I do as I’m told, the refreshing water lightly splashing my face as I drink from the dish. Then you reach between my legs and slide two fingers inside me. I squirm against your hand, irrepressible moans escaping my lips.
“Mmm… that’s my dirty girl. I can see how much you like that…”
Thrusting your fingers deep inside me, you make me forget all about my thirst. My face and hands press into the floor as I lift my ass higher and open myself to you.
Tugging on the leash, you raise me up to my knees again, and pull me toward you. With your hand still plunging inside me, making me writhe against you, you reach up with your other hand and open my mouth.
Kissing me deeply, you probe my mouth with your fingers and tongue. Then you slide down to my breasts, fondling my nipples, making me cry out as you pinch and tweak them.
Your thumb finds my clit, circling it gently… with your tongue teasing my mouth and your hands somehow covering what feels like every inch of my body, I know I won’t be able to hold out for very long… trusting you completely, I feel safe asking you for what I crave… what I need…
“I-I want… to come for you… please…”
Your teeth find my neck and you moan into me.
“Please… p-please… Master…”
Your hand leaves my breasts and you grab me by the hair, turning me to face the window. Pressing my body against the cool glass, you pull my head back and kiss me, your mouth unrestrained in its savoring. I don’t care if anyone is down in the street, watching us. All I care about is you… your hands and your mouth taking control of me… and surrendering myself to you, utterly and completely.
Luxuriating in the feeling of you ravaging me outside and in, I’m nearly sent over the edge when you slide a third finger inside me, reaching corners of my body only you’ve ever been…
You can tell that I’m close. You intuit what I long for without me having to say a word.
Pulsing your fingers inside me, you press into my clit with your thumb, pulling my hair harder and licking my lips… you shift your mouth to my ear and whisper…
“I’ll allow it. Come for me.”
And then, because you are generous and loving and oh so fucking good at what you do to me, I do. And all I can say is “Thank you” over and over and over…
More by Eva Monroe:
The Art of Seduction
At Your Service
Dream Come True
How to Treat a Naughty Girl
In The Morning
Punished at the Office
To Sir, With Lust
Where I Belong
Eva Monroe is a gal’s gal, guy’s gal, gal about town. She has a very active imagination and lots of opinions and frequently writes those things down. From screenplays to news articles to academic essays, Eva loves taking on the challenge of writing in new mediums, and her smut-tastic adventures with Bellesa are some of the most fun she’s ever had. Eva also co-produced two award-winning short films and has an MFA in screenwriting. Eva Monroe is not her real name.