Pet My Pet

For S and his unfolding delicious wickedness.... I've thought about you alot this weekend. This is what you do to me. Giggle.

She removed her clothing minutes before he arrived—six o’clock on the dot, as he had instructed. Her blouse was slipped from her back, the skirt neatly folded on top of it, lacy bra and delicate panties peeled from her flushed skin. She sat on the edge of the couch, stripped and obedient, waiting.

When he whistled from the door, she cringed. He’s got to be kidding. But then she heard it a second time, more insistently. With a low growl, she peered around the edge of the hallway and glared at him.

He set his keys and briefcase down on the hall table and looked at her, amused. From the mahogany colored satchel, he pulled a long, leather leash and a thin, yet severe-looking crop. Her eyes were saucers and she swallowed hard. He held the leash up and let it drop to the floor; it was a choke chain of sorts, with a small loop on each end.

She disappeared behind the wall, pale and trembling.

“Don’t make me angry, my pet,” he warned, his voice still light but resolute. He could see her fingers creep around the wall and her head soon followed. He couldn’t read her eyes; their pale blue swam with alarm.

He snapped loudly and pointed to the tile in front of him. She came slowly, eyes flashing between the leash, the crop and his unyielding face.

“Down,” he commanded, when she was within feet. She paused, but barely, before slipping to her hands and knees. He looped the leather thong over her head and pulled her long brown hair free. Without a word, he led her across the tile floor, her hair swinging around her face and her knees scraping along the ground. He pulled snugly on the leash, the soft leather digging into her neck.

Her hand snuck up to the collar and tugged it away from her skin. He leaned down, snarling, and grabbed the loop at her neck, hauling her to her feet with it, yanking it tight around her throat. She gasped as he pulled it higher, lifting her onto her toes. The leash was a deadly wreath, ending her breath, a finite noose. He stared at her as she choked, fingers at the leather, digging as she purpled.

“Don’t make me angry, my pet,” he repeated, lashing her thigh cruelly with the crop. She nodded, wheezing, her fingers curling desperately. He released her and she fell back to her knees, coughing. Her jaw ached as blood flooded back into it and she blinked away the clouds in her vision. He continued toward the bedroom, pace slowing to accommodate her fear. She knew who controlled her; she would not be stupid again.

At the foot of the bed, he stopped, yanking her forward in front of him. He loved how she looked naked, so far beneath him, her back long and sculpted, tapering into her narrow hips and round, firm ass. Her hair covered her face, but he knew if she were to look up, he would find a familiar pout on her plump lips and ice in her eyes. He loved to break her over and over again.

He stepped forward, around her, his calves locking her waist between his open legs. He stared down at her ass, could feel her body shaking. She was afraid, but he was aware too that she was soaked, the slut. Heat was pouring off her body and he knew her wet-fist cunt was dripping greedily. He smiled to himself; so fucking predictable.

“That’s my pussy, my pet,” he murmured, voice low and teasing. She purred, her ass rolling eagerly as he snapped the crop down on the inside of her left cheek. He could feel her body jump between his legs, and slapped the thin tool on the inside of her right cheek, catching a bit of her swollen cunt lips with the end. She gasped, whining softly.

“Pet my pretty pussy,” he instructed, pulling up gently on the leash. She groaned as her breath became more labored, her thoughts less clear, but reached between her legs and flicked her fingers over her throbbing clit. Her moans were raspy and short as she weaved her fingers into her folds and rubbed herself shamelessly. He watched her, carefully monitoring her climax, examining the subtle twitch in her hips and grind of her hand. If she came too close, he brought the crop viciously down on her fleshy backside. She would cry out in pain and he would release the collar, letting the blood rush back to her face and away from her gluttonous cunt.

She got cleverer though, and he almost allowed her to cum. She was whipped furiously for that and tears trickled down her face before he let her continue to stroke her frenzied pussy. A groan built deep in his throat as he watched her tremble; he moved to her side and lowered himself to his knees, examining her like a prize breeder. He placed a hand on the back of her neck and pushed her down, her face pressing against the floor and her ass high in the air, gratuitously exposed. She continued though to slip her nimble fingers through her drenched slit.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered, wrapping the leash around his wrist and making it taut. Her vision was an old photograph, gray and blurring around the edges, but her pussy had swelled in a way she hadn’t known it could, so painfully close to climax, juicy and hot. She hissed when his fingers sunk into it, twisting and flexing her.

“Good girl, my pet,” he whispered, fucking her expertly as she twitched, “I will feel it if you cum, so you had better not.”

He continued to pet her, pleased with her response. She whined, but he could feel her relax, trying not to stimulate herself. He smiled, knowing that his intentions were more devious than she could imagine.

She felt the sharp, meaty slap throughout her whole body; yelping loudly, she flinched, her muscles cringing away from the burn. He could feel her automatically clench his fingers in her liquid hot cunt. He smirked.

He began to spank her harder, erratically, her pussy tightening with each slap. He tickled her aching clit with his thumb. She moaned, clawing through her hair; she could not pull away with the leash wrapped securely around her throat and she could not stop fucking his hand as he slapped her. She was fucked and she knew it.

“Please, please. I’m going to cum,” she pleaded, grinding her teeth against the building waves of desire.

“No, my pet,” his voice was solid and harsh. She whimpered hysterically, yanking on her hair. Her resolve was a broken dam and she could not get it back; she was not clear-headed, she had held out so long.

“I-I…mmm…I c-can’t stop,” she mumbled incoherently.

He ripped his fingers from her pussy and growled low in her ear, “You will not cum, my pet.”

She struck the ground hard with her palm, delirious with wet, throbbing appetite. He grinned to himself. Bad girls will have to be punished.

He slapped the crop down on her tender cunt, the end licking evilly across her clit. She gasped, cumming instantly, a slippery gush of euphoria soaking her thighs and wrenching her hips. She groaned, her body shuddering for long moments; he watched her, shaking his head, amusedly.

“You filthy slut,” he admonished, pulling tight on the leash and yanking her head back. She didn’t yet comprehend words, but his tone was all she needed, “No fucking self-control. I’m disappointed, my pet. You know what happens to girls that cum without permission.”

She groaned, hissing through wet lips. She was fucked and she knew it. The wicked glint in his eye was unmistakable.