I knocked upon her door. A forbidden thing. It was mine to come when called, to attend my Mistress at her command without question or hesitation. It was not mine ever to presume. I was presuming.
I had with me a present. It was not much of a present as things go. I am not much of a knitter. I take forever to find the time to do it, and it takes me honestly about an hour to get into a good rhythm. I am also not great with the lighter yarns, I honestly like the heavier raw wool and warmer yarns.
I had knit for my Mistress what is honestly probably a little beyond my actual skill level. I saw the sweater pattern in a comment on a Japanese Anime I watch with my daughters. How to describe it, knit Japanese school girl sailor pullover in black yard with blood red roses.
That is her. She is a Lady. We are both women, but when I look at her I think Lady. My Lady in darkness, my Lady of Pain, my Lady of dark delights, my nightmare, my dream, my Mistress, my salvation. She is the rose at the heart of the forest of thorns that is my soul. I am a lot of things for a lot of people. Wife, mother, teacher, mentor, protector, sometimes the threat that keeps lesser predators at bay. For her I am either the wolf that paces at her feet or the bitch collared on my knees.
I knocked upon the door.
She answered, a santa hat upon her head, a cup of coffee that smelled of whisky in her hand, and one dark eyebrow arching up as her face turned down. That smile that had blossomed upon her lips in Christmas greeting fading to the hard cold line of a Mistress with a disobedient pet.
“Merry Christmas, My Lady” I offered as I handed her the present I had crafted.
She took it. Opened the door and stood aside.
“In and strip. You have broken a rule.”
I hurried in and stripped. She hauled out the saw horse with padding over it that she sometimes used for my more severe punishments. The cushions bound to it, and leather restraints at the four feet meant that I could be fastened securely with my breasts hanging down, my pussy and ass exposed, my mouth available, and with enough security that My Lady could employ more energetic means of correction to me without fear of my falling.
She opened her present and made no comment beyond a soft “hmmm”
She bound me to the sawhorse, my face to her fireplace, seeing the festive holiday scene of tree and fire, the decorated mantle as I felt her fasten the cuffs around my wrists and ankles. She slit the magic wand into its holder at the base of the sawhorse, pressing it against my clit, and setting it on the mid range to begin to weaken my resistance and control.
Taking the time to tell me what was in store, she held the ball gag up in front of me.
“I really can’t abide defiance, and will not stand for those who think they can top from the bottom. You are property, an animal, not a person to me. I will not have you rising above your place or making demands upon my precious time. I think you understand what is in store for you. If you wish to use your safe word, do it now, because in a moment I will take your ability to protest away, and will not check in again until I am finished with you. Understand, that if you use your safe word, we will have to have a long discussion when it pleases me about my boundaries.”
Her voice was stern, and I nodded, opening my mouth to accept the ball gag she offered me.
Fastening it carefully behind my neck, she stroked my neck and back lovingly, and I groaned into the ball gag. The care she took in fastening the gag did not give lie to her words, she meant everything she said, but it showed that at her cruelest, she cared for me. She would hurt me, but not damage me. Not one hair on my head would she damage by loss of control, what she inflicted upon me was measured and delivered with mastery, with cruelty, with desire, and with utter enjoyment. She gloried in her power over me, and drank like the whiskey in her coffee the pleasure she tore from me, knowing my submission and orgasm proved her right to mastery and ownership of me.
taking nipple clamps, she held them before me. Christmas ornaments had been added, chains of jingle bells with heavy old fashioned ornaments dangled at the end. She stripped naked before me, glorying in my inability to look away. Playing with my nipples almost casually, she made them erect for her torture. She tightened the clamps on first my left breast, then my right. I felt the pain begin as the blood trapped in the nipples raised the ache. She flicked the ornaments with a riding crop and laughed as they jingled and I whimpered.
Moving to my pussy, she stroked my outer labia with her fingers as she trailed the crop across my shoulders.
“I am in a bit of a festive mood today, my little animal. I think today I want to make my own candy cane. Your skin is white enough to be peppermint, what it requires is stripes. Do you think that would be wonderful my pet?”
With a crack, the crop came down first on my right shoulder and then my left.
“No,” My Lady said, “Not the pattern I am after. I need more proper stripes. Where is my belt. Hold on, don’t go away!” She was laughing as she passed out of the room. I squirmed against the vibrator humming into my pussy. I was so helpless right now, I was growing wet at the thought of my just and rightful punishment. The sight of My Lady’s ass as she wiggled out of the room wasn’t helping. I thought of rimming her, then eating her sweet pussy. I should be worried about my punishment, but the sight of her naked does things to my brain that do me no favours in control.
She came back in with her lady’s belt. A thin soft leather thing that would adorn any dress slacks beautifully, and I knew it would adorn me soon with my own accessories more fitting a slave.
She doubled it and gave her own palm a slap. “Ooh, that smarts!” Wearing only a Santa hat she trailed the belt across me from shoulder to bottom as she moved behind me.
“One!” She announced as she cut it down with a crack, laying a stripe across my shoulder from tip to bottom of my shoulder blade.
“Two!” She announced, cutting down a second time, this time I jumped against my restraints, unable to hide my reaction and anticipation of the blow. She chuckled, then fingered my growing wetness and asked me.
“Aren’t I being helpful? Normally I would make you count them out, but in the spirit of the season, I am doing that for you!”
She proceeded to count out twenty as she laid striped upon my back and ass. Stopping to stroke them with her fingers when the colour was to her liking, I groaned and moved against the vibrator desperately. She turned it up until I was whimpering.
“Don’t cum pet, or it will go badly. Slaves don’t cum first.” She said while sliding a candy cane into my cunt, and licking it clean. She plied the candy cane into my cunt again and again, it was so thick, I don’t know where she found it, and she worked it into me so casually and wonderfully I had to throw my weight from side to side and set the weights on my nipples into jingling motion to get the pain to keep me from cumming.
Moving in front of me, she took the riding crop back in hand, and laid it upon my back. Unbuckling the ball gag from my mouth, she spoke in mock sternness.
“I have been doing all the work, and that just isn’t right. It is time you do some work, you needy little cunt and convince your Mistress you are worth keeping.
She grabbed my head and raised it to her pussy.
Oh how she teased me. She kept herself just within reach, letting me lunge to lick her, setting the weights swinging and grinding the vibrator against me as I strove to get my tongue into her hot sweet folds.
Letting me lap at her lips, trace the outline of each labia, sucking them into my lips, and trailing my tongue over them slowly. Her breath caught as she moved to grant me more access. I sucked her other lip into my mouth, letting lips and tongue offer wordless homage to my goddess.
Lapping at her magnificence, I let my tongue probe inside her. While it was hers to use candy cane, finger, dildo, and even my own walking stick to penetrate me, all I would ever be permitted was tongue and finger on her. She was a goddess, and I was just an animal for her to train.
Within those limits, I was determined to prove I was the most devoted animal she could ever own. I let my tongue dance within her until she was grinding her face against me, then let my tongue trace up to circle her clit. Letting my tongue trace her folds and up around her clit again and again, I waited until she forced me deeper against her to claim her clit in my lips and suck it.
She rode my face hard, her breath growing ragged, the pain from my nipples grew intense as she rocked me heavily against the saw horses. I could not breathe at all as the seal on my face was total, but I sucked on her clit hard, my tongue flickering like lightning over it.
She cried out. Her hands pulled my hair so harshly I saw stars, and she bucked against my face so hard I felt my nose hurt. She came in harsh sobbing gasps.
Staggering back from me, she reached below to undo my nipple clamps.
I shouted in agony as blood returned to my nipples, and as I whimpered and ground against the vibrator for relief, she stalked behind me as she wet her candy cane in her mouth before driving it into me.
Fucking me with her candy cane, and pulling the magic wand from its holder to work it savagely against my clit she commanded me.
“Cum you dirty whore, cum like the slut that you are. Prove what a slave you are for your Mistress.”
I came, gods help me. I came helplessly. I came joyously. I came so hard I was bucking against the restraints hard enough to prove I might have been a danger had I not been restrained.
She would not relent, kept me going until I was begging her to stop. She drove me to a second orgasm that was as much pain as pleasure, and my whole body was on fire.
Then she kissed my back. Kissed down my spine to the hollow above my arse. Her hands played over my legs before unbuckling my cuffs. She knelt before my face, and unbuckled my wrist cuffs. Taking me by the shoulders she helped me off the saw horse.
I sank bonelessly to my knees and she followed me down, not letting me fall. She let my face fall against her shoulder and held me as I hugged her and cried. I shook for a long time and she stroked my hair and back.
She drew back my face and kissed me softly. I get few kisses. They are a gift beyond price. I don’t deserve them, and treat each one as the gift that it is.
She told me in attempted coldness “Dress and depart, we both have people to look after this Christmas.”
The warmth in her eyes and throbbing in her voice gave lie to the coldness, and I took both her hands in my own and kissed them before rising to dress.
When I went to leave, she was wearing only the sweater I had knit for her. She walked me to the door and kissed me once upon the lips before sending me home to husband and family.
“Merry Christmas slave.” She said.
“Merry Christmas, My Lady!” I offered.
I wobbled off into the snow, legs weak and wobbly, a song in my heart and her cum on my lips. It was a Merry Christmas indeed.