Kat Pt. 01

Kat lay on the bed idly playing with herself, her hands roaming freely but gently, barely touching her soft, pale skin. She toyed with the cups of her lacy black bra, smiling as her already aching nipples responded, becoming even harder. She knew he loved her nipples and how sensitive they were.

Her fingers roamed further. No panties to check. She smiled; it was rare that there were, these days. She knew better than to touch her pussy yet. He would know somehow, he always did, and then there would be trouble. She checked the seam on her stockings. Mmm nice and straight. Hopefully he would enjoy seeing them when he bent her over to spank her. She smiled again, knowing it was almost certain that he would spank her.

It had already been a fun evening. Kat had been looking forward to seeing Sir tonight, although they had not spoken and barely touched so far that night. He had invited her to a concert, to hear him play, casually mentioning that there was a room booked in their usual hotel for afterwards. She had jumped at the chance, they were never together enough, and it had been nice to see what he did with himself when she wasn't there.

The evening had begun well. As usual, Sir had chosen the outfit. Black hold-ups, nice heels and a lacy bra that complimented her beautiful young breasts. Her going out collar, too. The lacy one he had bought her the night he had collared her. She felt a tingle as she thought of that night, and of what it had meant to both of them. Her fingers traced the elegant, high collar, making her moan a little in pleasure as she remembered.

The outfit, as such it was, had been finished off with a mid-length black coat and a silk scarf. She had felt such a slut going out like that, especially to a smart event, and had worried that she would be discovered somehow. Even driving there had been incredibly erotic, but then Sir seemed to have a way of turning so many of her daily routines into something sexual that would leave her gasping.

At the concert, he had seen her immediately she walked in. Kat could tell from his smile that he was pleased with her, and pleased to see her there. He had given her the choice of just meeting him at the hotel after, telling her that he didn't want to force her to sit through an evening of him talking and playing. Silly Sir, she thought. Of course she would want to, and she hadn't been disappointed. She didn't usually listen to classical groups, but they played so beautifully and it had been interesting to see and hear Sir in a whole new way. She just hoped that she wasn't going to be given a test, because... well, because she had been focussing on very different things during the evening, and her imagination had fuelled her already aroused state.

During the interval, he had spoken to her briefly, as if she was an audience member that he knew slightly. She knew that he could do nothing more, as she was his dirty little secret, something that aroused her intensely. He had handed her his card, but later inspection had shown it to be the keycard for the room. Then he had moved on, touching her briefly, but reassuringly, as he kissed her politely.

She heard the door open. Sir was back. Kat squirmed round to be able to see him properly as he walked in, to see what sort of a mood he might be in.

As always, his face betrayed little at first. She looked up at him from the bed as he stood, studying her, his eyes missing nothing. Did she want him to punish her body or fuck her hard straight away? She couldn't decide and knew she would never get the opportunity to do so.

"Kneel. Now!"

Gasping, she scrambled off the bed and knelt as he had patiently and lovingly taught her the first time they met. Legs wide apart, sitting on her heels, back arched, hands behind her, shoulders back, head proud. She knew it made her breasts stand out, just as she knew he had insisted that she never lower her head, but be proud of herself and her body.

He stood behind her, hands caressing her shoulders. "Thank you for coming up tonight, Kat. It was mean to make you sit through the concert, but I so wanted us to get together. There are too few occasions."

She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. "Thank you, Sir. I always love our nights together. It was lovely listening to you playing, too."

He laughed. "I'm sure it was. I won't give you a test, you looked, erm, preoccupied for some of the time!" He held her hair tightly, so that she could not drop her gaze, then reached over her and pulled her breasts out of her bra, so it lay underneath, forcing them out. They both adored the look and she loved that he always had her at least partly dressed the whole time they played, unless they were showering together after. She smiled. Even then, sometimes...

Kat was aware of the way they rose and fell urgently, as her breathing rate increased and deepened. She gasped as his hand suddenly slapped her left tit hard. Then again, and again, and again. OW! He knew how sensitive her breasts and nipples were, but then she also knew his sadistic joy in using that knowledge.

The tit quickly became bright red, the slapping painful. She wished he would break between slaps to massage and caress the pain away, as he so often did, but this time he seemed determined to make it hurt. Just as she felt she would have to cry out, he changed to her right tit. The same treatment was meted out; Sir totally absorbed in making sure her breasts would remain painful all evening as he amused himself with her.

Soon they were bright red and aching. He pulled her to her feet by the hair and forced her against the wall, pushing her tits painfully against it. Her hands were forced up to her head, making it clear where they were to be. For someone who talked to her so much, comforting her, telling her she was his good girl, it was amazing how his silences could move her.

Her legs were forced apart, leaving her leaning, helpless, her weight pressing against her tits. She was soaking already, and knew he would be able to see just how wet she was. She arched her back, knowing it would make her ass stick out prettily for him. She wanted him to know how much she needed this, how good it felt to be used this way, trusting and safe in his care, yet made to hurt and perform as he desired.

He spanked her hard, with his usual even, measured strokes, seeming to go on and on, building in intensity. Occasionally a finger would explore her wetness, teasing her, making her gasp, but never brining relief.

For a short while he transferred his attentions to her pussy, spanking that too. Sir had talked about cunt busting to her, in his low, comforting tones, telling her that he would, one day, cause her that level of pain, to take her to such an intense level. Would it be today, she wondered?