It's a cool late winter morning and I have slept in. Master has indulged me by letting me sleep through his getting the kids ready to meet the bus. It's just the two of us for the day.

He comes back upstairs; he's fully dressed. I'm naked under the covers. He pulls the blankets off and rolls me over on to my stomach, pulling my wrist behind my back. He fastens a cuff, then pulls the other wrist back, fastens the other cuff on and snaps them together.

I sit up so he can put my collar on. After that, he runs his hands slowly, lovingly, over my body, pausing to pinch hard on my nipples to make me gasp.

He attaches a leash to the ring on a wrist cuff and tells me to come on downstairs. I follow along behind him, getting an occasional tug for not being quick enough in keeping up.

In the kitchen he ties the leash to a cabinet handle, pushes me into a kneeling position, nudges my knees apart with his foot, then heads to the door. "I have to run out for a bit- stay there", he says.

I don't know where he's going or for how long, and from my position on the floor I can't see if he's getting in the car or not.

On the radio Ella Fitzgerald is singing "Summertime". I settle in to wait.

"Your daddy's rich and your mama's good looking" she croons and she seems to be singing straight into my soul. How I love that voice. I concentrate on it instead of the hard wood floor paining my knees.

Being left exposed like this is beginning to make me wet. I wiggle my hands behind my back to get more comfortable and the feeling of being captured and restrained turns me on almost unbearably, starting a trickle flowing down my thigh. I know there is a puddle forming under me and even though this knowledge brings a hot flush to my face there is nothing to do about it now. I must wait.

My shoulders are beginning to ache and my feet are going numb from resting on them in this position when the door opens and my Master walks to where I'm kneeling, my head lowered. He takes my chin in his hand and lifts it, saying cheerily "Chin up, it could be worse" in that voice that could mean it is about to get a lot worse.

Ms. Ella on the radio has gone through much of her repertoire and is now on "Love for Sale".

"Love that's fresh and still unspoiled, love that's only slightly soiled.
Love for sale." Meltingly sweet.

Master blindfolds me and I hear the freezer door open. Ice rattles. I shiver as I feel cold water drip on my shoulder. He runs the ice cube across my chest, over my breasts, down my stomach. He helps me to stand and I am there on my numb and tingling feet. The feeling starts coming back into them painfully as he moves the ice between my legs and across the lips of my cunt. The contrast of the extreme heat of desire and the cold makes me a little giddy.

He slides a finger deep and hard up into me and I gasp and moan. My knees feel weak as he strokes me from the inside. If my hands were free I would be able to hold on to him, but though I strain to get them loose I cannot. I have to will more strength into my legs to keep standing upright.

He notices the puddle on the floor, removes his finger from me, rips off the blindfold and tells me I better wipe that up. The leash is untied then and it is long enough to allow me to get a paper towel from the counter (although this is awkward with my hands behind my back). I drop the towel on the puddle and start mopping with my foot. He unsnaps my wrists from each other and says "Get down there and do it right". So I drop to hands and knees and wipe up thoroughly as he stands behind me, watching me.

His eyes on me are almost a physical sensation, causing more wetness to run down my legs. I have to crawl backwards now to get to the new puddle with my towel.

I have backed into Master's leg.

He lifts a foot and presses the toe of his shoe against my pussy. I lean in and sigh with a wantonness that makes him smile.

He sets his foot down, grabs my hair and pull my head back hard, saying "Slut, you need to suck some cock." I get to it promptly and soon he is fucking my face hard. I gasp and gurgle and gag. Some tears start in my eyes.
I absolutely love it though, tears or not, and I am balancing on the edge of orgasm, just waiting for his command. He knows it and makes me wait just a bit more for it before giving me the release command and I cum in a strong wave, without pausing in pleasuring him.

He reaches up and takes a stick from where it hangs on the wall of the kitchen. A decorative cane, one that he hand carved for me. I start to tremble, still not pausing though. Decorative, Master, remember? Only for looking at, and hanging on the wall, I'm thinking frantically to myself. The cane is solid wood, no give to it at all.
It could cause some mayhem.

He taps me lightly on the rear, then uses the stick gently behind my head, light pressure encouraging me in the rhythm that he wants. More stroking and tapping on the backside. I tremble in anticipation and he knows that I fear a hard blow. But still he just teases me with the stick.

No hard blow comes; I am to be spared that. He sets the stick aside and starts thrusting in earnest, holding my head hard up against him. He cums deep in my throat and I wait, perfectly still, blinking away tears and unable to draw a breath until he lets go of me. I am so happy I am able to please him.

He goes to work on the computer for a while and I curl up at his feet to adore him for as long as he will let me.