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My house. Wear nothing underneath your coat except
corset, stockings and high heels. Be ready to suffer, and expect the
unexpected. If you let me down tonight, you will be punished severely.
Emi read the text message carefully, several times. Expect the unexpected.
She was used to getting orders like this from Birch, there was nothing he
required that she hadn’t done before, but those few words filled her with
a sense of anxiety. That was probably what he wanted, he knew she hated
not knowing what was going to happen to her, and if she asked for more
clarity, she knew what the reply would be – “You don’t need to know.”
Just before 8 P.M. that night, Emi pulled on a pair of sheer black
stockings, checking to make sure the seams up the back were perfectly
straight. Birch had once punished her with 30 strokes of his belt for
daring to be in his presence with a crooked seam. Now every time she put
her stockings on, she remembered that night…
She’d been ordered to drop to all fours. Birch had been silent, inspecting
her, nudging the inside of her leg with his foot to tell her to spread her
legs wider. The air was cool and delicious on her wet cunt as she obeyed.
Still, he said nothing. She heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled.
What would he do? She wished he’d speak. Unable to see, Emi had fully
expected to feel the head of his cock pushing into her waiting cunt. He
straddled her, but facing backwards, legs gripping her waist tight,
standing upright. Emi risked a quick glance to the side to try and work
out what he was doing, then her whole body jerked with pain and shock as
the first blow from his belt stung her arse and thighs. Immediately, she
clenched her muscles to brace against the pain, gasping as he continued
methodically and silently thrashing her. He was hitting downwards, not
across, and he moved the belt from one arse cheek to the other, making
sure that her exposed cunt wasn’t left out. The leather cracked across her
most tender area, making Emi cry out, her fingers digging into the carpet.
Involuntarily, she humped up her back, and leant forward, anything to
escape those cruel blows. Birch spoke then, his voice even but firm.
“If you move like that again, you will get more. Back in your position.”
Obediently, Emi sank back down. She was crying now, quietly snivelling to
herself from fear and self pity. Birch took no notice. He simply carried
on methodically placing each blow until he was satisfied. Emi felt him
step away from her. She imagined him examining her marks carefully, head
on one side, like an artist looking for flaws in a masterpiece. She was
afraid that, like the artist, he might decide that he’d missed a bit, but
instead of a paintbrush, he’d take up his belt again and correct it.
Emi held her breath, not daring to move until he told her to. Apparently
satisfied, Birch moved round to stand in front of her. He bent down,
putting one finger under her chin and tilting her tear and mascara
streaked face upwards. His cock was hard, and Emi knew what he wanted her
to do before he spoke.
“Suck,” he commanded, and Emi scrambled to her knees. She loved this part,
loved the taste of him, the feel of his cock in her mouth, the weight of
his balls in her hand. She loved the way he grabbed a fistful of her hair,
holding her still, pressing her forward til his cock choked her and she
had to fight the gag reflex as he thrust himself down her throat til her
chin was pressed up against his balls, her eyes watering, struggling to
breathe as he fucked her face.
Abruptly, he withdrew his cock, leaving Emi gasping for breath, wanting it
back in her mouth, wanting to taste his cum.
“Stand in front of the fireplace,” he said, holding out one hand. Emi took
it, and he pulled her to her feet, steadying her as she stumbled a little.
He took both her hands and placed them wide apart on the mantelpiece. He
nudged her legs with his foot, signalling her to move them backwards and
apart til she was leaning forward, her weight on her arms, legs spread
wide, cunt aching for his cock in spite of the thrashing he’d just given
her.
She felt him slip into her, whimpering slightly as his thighs pressed
against the burning, tender skin on her arse, bracing herself against his
powerful thrusts, then pressing herself backwards onto him as he fucked
her hard. He wrapped both hands round her throat, bending her neck and
arching her backwards until her spine screamed in agony and she struggled
to breathe.
“Who do you belong to?” he demanded
“You,” Emi barely managed to gasp
“Who will you always belong to?”
“You!”
Birch pulled her back harder and held her there, quivering, impaled
helplessly on the end of his cock. Emi was, as always, aware of the sheer
power that emanated from him. She felt wetness fill her cunt as he emptied
himself into her, and shuddered with pleasure as she felt her own orgasm
build. She kept it to herself though, she knew Birch would punish her for
daring to cum without asking his permission first. Her limbs were
trembling with effort by the time he withdrew.
“Lick me clean.”
Emi once again sank to her knees, licking the coating of cum mixed with
her own cunt juices off his cock. She stood again, feeling the spunk start
to run down her legs, but Birch pulled her close, wrapping his arms around
her. She laid her head on his shoulder, breathing the warm scent of his
skin, trying to process what had just happened.
“Your left stocking seam was crooked when you came in,” he said. “The
thrashing was a punishment. I’m sure you’ll be careful not to make the
same mistake again. Now go and clean yourself up.”
Property, she was just property, a slave who willingly served her owner in
whatever way he chose.
Emi shook herself out of her reverie. She must hurry now. She wrapped the
black, satiny corset around her body, lacing it as tight as she could.
Standing in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, she couldn’t
help but stare at herself, transfixed. The corset moulded itself to her
curves, accentuating them. Her tits were free and proud above it, before
it narrowed down in sleek lines to her now dramatically small waist, then
flowing out over the sensuous curves of her hips. Her smooth shaven mound
and cunt were framed by the straps of the suspender belt, leading down to
the lace tops of the stockings that encased her long legs. She put on her
black suede high heels, marvelling at how good she looked – and felt.
There was a wildness growing within her, an awareness of her own unbridled
sexuality. She was Salome, tempting John the Baptist, she was Cleopatra
driving Marc Antony wild, she was Theda Bara, vamping men in silent
movies. She was every woman from the dawn of history who knew how to draw
on the power of her sex to become a flesh and bone goddess.
As she put her long coat on over her outfit, she knew this amazing energy
would start to wither and die the moment she entered Birch’s presence. His
own personal power would subtly challenge hers, knowing just how to tame
and harness the wildness and defiance that lurked within her, enjoying the
game until he had quietly reduced her to the slave who was obedient to his
command, who endured the unendurable, and who’s cunt became wet for him at
only a word or a glance.
He was leaning on his front gate, waiting, as Emi turned into his street.
She checked her watch. 8.29 P.M. – she was on time. He drew himself up to
his full height as she approached, opening the gate and holding his arms
out to her. Her steps quickened as she hurried to him, feeling as she
always did the fierce surge of pride that she belonged to him. He squeezed
her tight for an endless moment, kissing her face and hair, before taking
her hand and leading her into his front porch.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “My own special girl. Now listen carefully.
You will remove your coat here. In my living room are two people who would
like to meet you. You will go and introduce yourself to them as my slave.
Understand so far?”
Emi felt herself go hot, then cold, as the words sank in. Expect the
unexpected. Birch wanted her to expose herself to two strangers. She felt
herself shrinking, panic building. Was he bluffing her? He’d done
something similar to this twice before, and she’d been so relieved it
wasn’t for real that she hadn’t even felt angry with him for doing it to
her.
“Understand?” he repeated, his voice sharper.
“I understand.”
“Good. Coat off.” As Emi unbuttoned her coat with clumsy fingers, he
continued talking. “You’ll go in, stand in front of them with your legs
apart and your cunt in full view, and introduce yourself as my slave. And
you’ll look them in the eyes as you say it.”
Yes, Emi thought, He’s bluffing. Still, she had to continue playing her
part. He took the coat from her and hung it up. Emi took a deep breath and
prepared to walk through to the empty living room.
“Keep your head up, your shoulders back, and make me proud.”
Birch opened the door to the house. Emi could hear the TV on loud in the
living room, as it usually was. She straightened her shoulders, pushed the
door open, and stopped dead.
There were two people sitting on Birch’s sofa. |
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