Coming Home

Hot days in the desert demand very little clothing. When you got home from work, I was on the couch in my shortest cotton shorts and a tight ballet tank top, with teeny spaghetti straps and a scooped neckline that dipped low in both the front and the back.

Always thrilled to see you at the end of the day, I hopped up and greeted you with a smile and a kiss, wrapping my arms around your neck like an eager little puppy welcoming her master home.

“Mmm,” you murmured, nuzzling my neck. “Nothing wrong with that hello… and I’m a fan of this barely-there outfit of yours, too…”

While you talked, your hands explored my body, sliding down the sides of my waist to give my ass a firm squeeze.

“I hope you didn’t leave the house dressed like this,” you teased, and I gave you an appropriately bashful look in reply.

“Of course not. Clothing this tiny is just for you.” With another kiss, I gave you a little spin so you could take in the full view. You swatted my ass as I flounced back to the couch.

“You’re damn right it is.” As firm as your voice was, you also sounded tired.

“How was work, babe?” I asked.

“Exhausting. Afraid I won’t be much fun tonight.” You sat on the couch next to me, letting the tension of the day drain from your body.

“That’s okay. I’ll take care of you,” I promised. “Oh, and here’s a little treat to perk you up… I checked the mail right before you got home, and your new shirts were by the mailbox!”

You started to smile and then raised an eyebrow at me.

“I thought you said you didn’t leave the house in that outfit.” Your voice was still teasing, but with a slight edge.

“I, um…” Stammering, I searched for the right words. “I just went down to get the mail?” I offered.

“Dressed like that? No t-shirt or anything over this?” You gestured to my barely-clad body, curled up on the couch next to you.

“It’s just so hot today…” I trailed off, knowing how silly that sounded. I had plenty of lightweight t-shirts I could’ve thrown on for more coverage. After all, we had an agreement. I knew the rules.

You sighed, as if reading my mind.

“Yes, it was hot today. And if I can see your hard little nipples poking out through this tank top, then so could everyone else in the neighborhood.” Your words held more edge than teasing now. “Under what circumstances are you allowed to dress like this in public?” 

Quietly and with lashes lowered, I answered you.

“When you’re with me and want to show me off,” I said.

“That’s right. And was that the case today?” Fully stern now, your chastising words made me squirm.

“No, it wasn’t…” As contrite as I felt for not following the rules, I also couldn’t suppress the growing tingle between my legs.

Shaking your head, you studied me for a moment. Sometimes waiting to see how you would react to my disobedience was the most exquisite torture… and this was definitely one of those times.

“I’m too tired to properly discipline you tonight,” you said, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. But you weren’t finished. You sighed and went on. “But if you think it’s okay to put yourself on display like that for the whole neighborhood, you clearly need a reminder of who’s in charge of all this…”

Wrapping your arm around me, you pulled me close and caressed different areas of my exposed skin… my collarbone, my cleavage, my thighs… 

You hadn’t prompted me, but I instinctively expressed my willingness and agreement to whatever your lesson might be.

“You are. You’re in charge of my body. I belong to you.” I did my best to convey my sincerity and contrition all at once.

“That’s right,” you agreed. “And so I will let you serve me tonight-”

“Thank you-” I hadn’t meant to interrupt you, and when you silenced me with a look, I quickly bit my lip to keep quiet.

“I will let you serve me,” you repeated, “and I will enjoy your body - which is mine - as little or as much as I want to. But I am not going to fuck you tonight, and you are not allowed to come, so do not ask. Is that understood?”

I nodded, grasping for words as the familiar thrill of electricity that only you could inspire swept through me. 

“Y-yes… understood.” I stammered.

Your promise of delicious physical torment - which could mean any number of things - coupled with the gift of letting me serve you… It all made me want to come just thinking about it. There was no question; I would definitely be going to sleep that night extremely pent up from learning my lesson.

Always so attuned to me, you did that mind-reading thing again.

“If - and only if - you’re a very good girl, maybe I’ll fuck you in the morning.” You smirked a little as a small whimper escaped my lips. 

Then, without warning, you reached over and tugged down the front of my tiny tank top, exposing my tits and making my nipples harden instantly under the breeze of the ceiling fan. I gasped as you took hold of my nipples, pinching and twisting them just the way I liked it, knowing it would drive me all kinds of crazy… 

“What do you say… are you going to be a good girl for me?” You asked, the smirk still playing on your lips.

Moaning and squirming under your touch, I nodded again.

“Yes, I’ll be good… I promise…” I felt the growing wetness between my legs and knew I was in for a long night of desperately wanting to come.

“And who do these belong to…” Your hands persisted in their welcome torture of my breasts, and while your words formed more of a statement than a question, I knew I was still expected to answer. 

“You. They belong to you.” I vowed, letting you enjoy easy access to my naked tits and the veracity of my devotion.

As abruptly as you began, you released your hold on me, leaving me panting next to you, trying to steady my ragged breath.

“Good. Now you can make me a drink.” It was an offer, not a command. You knew how much it pleased me to be of service to you, and even more so if I’d been cavalier about following one of the few rules you’d established for me.

Without thinking, I started to fix my tank top, making a move to re-cover myself. You chuckled, ever so slightly.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so. Did I tell you to fix your top?” you chastened, light but firm.

It was an amateur blunder, and I knew better.

“No, you didn’t. I’m sorry.” I blushed, and pulled the neckline of my tank top back below my tits, leaving them exposed.

“There’s no need to apologize,” you offered. “But if you can show it off to everyone in our neighborhood, you can certainly show it all off for me.”

And with that, you told me to stand up and turn around, and when I obeyed you tugged my itsy-bitsy shorts down to reveal my ass clad in only a small black thong. With a sigh and a tsk, you squeezed each naked cheek in turn, and gave me two sharp spankings.

“I’ll take that drink now.” You said, and I promptly headed to the kitchen.

I didn’t get far before my shorts fell all the way down to my ankles, but after being reprimanded for starting to fix my top, I didn’t dare make any adjustments without your say so.

Pouring your whiskey, two rocks, I heard the TV turn on and the opening credits for one of our favorite shows. Over the open kitchen counter, I watched you settle into the couch cushions, releasing some of the strain of your day. It filled me with an unparalleled warmth, to be stripped for you and serving you, and anticipating a night of demonstrating my loyalty to you in every way possible. Orgasms and sex were icing on a cake that would have to wait until morning - at the earliest - but at the moment I wanted nothing more than to be completely and utterly yours.

Making my way around the counter and back to the living room with your drink, I shuffled a bit due to the shorts around my ankles. You looked up and grinned, teasing me gently.

“Aww, did they fall down? That’s a shame. You should probably just take them off.” You winked and accepted the highball glass I offered as I stepped out of my abandoned shorts. 

Left in nothing but my thong and doctored tank top, I snuggled in next to you on the couch. For a little while, you simply held me while we relaxed, and I wondered if that was the extent of my lesson for the evening.

Then you reached into your glass, pulled out one of your ice cubes, and ran it over each of my nipples in turn. I inhaled sharply at the icy touch, and you promptly dropped the cube back in your tumbler. You smiled, faux-innocent.

“Have to keep them standing at attention,” you explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

I took a breath and resisted the urge to roll my eyes or throw smart-mouthed sarcasm at you. Instead, I agreed, good-naturedly.

“Of course,” I smiled. “That makes sense.”

The next ten minutes were a special kind of agony.

Your hands made their way over every inch of my body that they could reach without taking you out of your repose. From my thighs to my bottom to my breasts and collarbone… down the length of my spine, underneath my thong, to the spot that drives me truly wild with desire… 

And that’s where you stopped. One hand caressed that special secret spot above my ass known only to you, and the other took turns with each of my nipples. I was so easy for you… you knew my body so well you could barely lift a finger and still make me ravenous with longing.

As you expertly worked me into a frenzy, I writhed against you and tried not to whimper too loudly. I knew I would have to take it, and what’s more, I wanted to. I wanted to show you that every inch of me was yours.

The show you were watching - I’d become far too distracted to pay any attention - came to a good stopping point, and you suspended your exquisite torment to pause it and turn to me.

“I think I’d like some dinner. How about you?” You smiled innocently, as if I wasn’t basically naked and breathless beside you, doing my very best to behave myself and not beg for permission to come for you. You’d been very clear on that point, so I simply gave you a small smile in return.

“Sure,” I said with a little shrug. “I could eat.”

“Perfect. Why don’t you go whip something up for us while I get out of these work clothes.” Again, it wasn’t really a question, and I was more than happy to oblige you.

I stood up and turned away, but you stopped me before I could take a step.

“Oh, wait… Just one small adjustment…” and with that, you rolled my panties down until they sat just below my ample bottom. Then you stood up and pulled my straps off my shoulders, leaving my tank top snug around my midsection to emphasize my naked breasts. 

Now I was fully on display for you, but with two scraps of clothing left askew, to remind me that I was, in fact, being taught a lesson. You knew quite well what a turn on it was for me to be almost naked, but not quite… how much I loved the feeling of being exposed and stripped down for you, vulnerable to your every whim… 

Reaching around from behind me, your fingertips grazed my nipples, making my breath grow ragged again. Leaning forward, your lips brushed my ear.

“Whatever you do, don’t let them fall down,” you murmured. “I want you to remember that you are mine, and that you are only ever to be on display for me… Is that understood?”

“Y-yes,” I nodded, my mouth going dry as my breathing grew more and more unsteady. You hadn’t relinquished your persistent stroking of my nipples… if anything, your fondling only grew more assertive, and when I instinctively pressed my ass backward, grinding into your groin, I heard you chuckle in my ear.

“Yes, what?” you asked.

Oh, god… it was so so rare that you demanded this level of complicity from me. You really were out to make me completely and utterly insatiable before the night was through.

“Yes… yes, boss. Understood. I-I’ll leave m-myself… oh, god… on d-display for you… just like this…” The instant I reached back and grabbed onto your hips to steady myself, you took your hands from my breasts and give me a sharp, solid smack on my ass.

“Good girl,” you said, and headed toward the bedroom.