A Personal Submission

"I'll be right back," he said, closing the door behind him. It wasn't a particularly foreboding statement. Lying on the bed, I twirled a lock of hair between my fingers and began singing a song to myself. My legs were spread in my usual strange (but comfortable) fashion, one leg pointed toward the wall and the other bent at the knee. I was wearing a pair of tight jeans, a fitted black t-shirt and my customary collar. The shirt outlined my large breasts, the fabric protesting against it by distorting the graphic on its front; my stomach was somewhat exposed and my hips were full and feminine in the denim of my jeans. Stray locks of auburn hair lied out in tendrils on the crimson-colored pillow behind my head.

As three or four minutes passed, I began to fantasize and daydream as often was the case when I was left alone on a bed. Thoughts left the innocent territories about what I had due for school in the next week to the darker realms of rough sex and power exchange. I dreamt of powerful hands striking soft and vulnerable flesh and lips forming humiliating words that reached my ear through whispers of hot breath. Shifting against the comforter, my right hand strayed from my hair to between my legs. I rubbed slowly, softly, so that I could barely perceive the touch. A shiver ran up my spine and a mischievous smile affected my face. Exhaling slowly, I curved my middle finger from the bottom of my crotch to the top in a "come here" motion.

A small sigh of contentment escaped my lips when I heard the door open. I moved my hand to the side, gripping the comforter. I felt somehow guilty, but in a naughty way. The smile on my face as I looked at him revealed everything and he immediately knew. He crossed his arms, not moving from the doorframe. "And what were you doing, little girl?"

"Nothing, Sir," I replied innocently, lowering my eyes. I shifted in place.

"Nothing, hmm? I think you're lying to me," he remarked quietly, eyes ablaze. Moving toward the bed, he cracked his knuckles and neck. A pang of fear pierced my stomach, the kind of fear that soaks my panties and makes my heart race. "Shouldn't you ask me before you do such things? But I suppose horny little sluts like you just can't help themselves." His voice was cool, quiet with a hint of cruelty that gave me gooseflesh; words spoken right into my ear caused my back to arch. "You need some discipline. Stand up, remove your pants and panties, and bend over the bed. Now."

Scrambling from my spot of repose, I quickly unzipped my pants and slid down my panties, letting them drop to the floor. I bent over the bed and spread my legs apart, closing my eyes tightly in anticipation. "I'm sorry, Sir... I was just fantasizing, that's all. I didn't mean to disobey," I said quietly, a submissive docility entering my voice.

"I'm disappointed in your lack of foresight, my little slave girl. At least have the courtesy to tell me what you were fantasizing about while I was away," he scolded, tracing a hand down my right ass cheek and thigh. He pinched the sensitive flesh there and I started. I could almost feel the smug smile cross his face.

"Well... I was... I was just thinking about- ah!" I exclaimed as a hand came down firmly on my ass, then grabbing it lewdly with his fingernails digging into the soft flesh there. He caressed the wounded ass cheek, followed by another sharper hit.

"Do continue. You can still concentrate, can't you?" Remarked my dominant, chuckling softly, condescendingly. Another hard spank; this time the stinging pain lingered and I felt my temperature rise.

"Umm... yes... I... was thinking about your hard cock, Sir," replied the naughty submissive, breasts heaving against the bed. My face was pressed against the pillows, muffling my cries. Each strike brought a new surge of pleasure.

"Oh? And what about it, slut?" He asked, giving the other asscheek a forceful slap, then a few more for good measure. Now my whole ass burned pleasantly, and I was sure it was turning a bright shade of pink against my porcelain-white skin.

The pain mixed with pleasure clouded my mind for a moment; I was lost in each slap of his firm hand, so strong a blow yet so soft a caress. "I want it in my mouth, in my pussy, in my ass, wherever you wanted it, Sir."

I felt him kiss the hot area on my left asscheek where he had abused the most with his determined spanking. He leaned over me, grinding his hips into my ass. Grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking my head into an upright position, he whispered into my ear: "I know you'll give me anything I want, you horny bitch. I know you'd give it to me wherever, whenever I wanted, because you're my good little girl, right?"

Before I could respond, he looped an arm under my stomach and threw me face-up onto the bed. My body was shaking like a leaf; my hands gripped the comforter and my mouth hung open. Mind reeling with a thousand possibilities, I was in a state of aroused shock. Our eyes met in a fiery lock as he produced the riding crop. He smiled wickedly, stroking the shaft of the crop and his cock. Kissing me forcefully, his tongue danced around mine. Gasping for breath, I leaned forward desperately for another kiss; he drew away. The wetness between my legs increased and the tension in my body was almost too much to bear.

"Discipline is an important part of learning to be an obedient slave, isn't it?" He remarked, hitting the shaft of the crop against his open palm. His stance was powerful, decisive, and my eyes unconsciously followed his every move. I could barely find the power to speak.

"Yes, Sir," I replied uncertainly. My lips trembled.

"Think you're better seen than heard? Perhaps I should draw a little noise out of you, then." Taking in the sight of my body with frank appraisal and lust, he ran the rubber end of the crop over the insides of my legs and my exposed stomach. The crop then came down hard upon the inside of my thigh, and I yelped aloud. Another smooth caress followed -- this time on the inside of my wrist -- and then a sharp crack. A grin spread across his face and a great bulge rose in the crease of his jeans as I winced and cried.

"There's a little noise, good girl." I naturally scrambled backward, trying to avoid another strike. Whimpering pitifully, I looked up into the eyes of my Master and found what I wanted: the stern face of a protector, but also that of a martinet. Fear pulsated in my stomach and between my legs; I was entering the blissful sub-space I had gone so long without.

"Now, get on your hands and knees, but stay on the bed. Ass facing me, slut," he remarked casually, setting the riding crop down. When he had undressed himself from the waist down, he slapped me hard on the ass and rubbed his cock gingerly with the other hand. "You're already fairly obedient; hopefully I won't have to teach you much." With this condescending statement he sat himself down on the bed, back against the wall so that my downcast eyes gazed upon his thick member. He attached a long black chain to the metal loop of my collar and gave it a firm tug, causing me to lurch forward. His other hand came around to force me sideways, my head now at his shoulder. I whimpered again, longing to come in contact with his turgid dick.

"P-please, Sir," moaned I, the pathetic submissive.

"Please what? What do you want, my eager slave bitch?"

"Please fuck me!" I supplicated pathetically.

"No," was the simple answer that followed, drawing a frustrated groan from me.