The house was dim, but in the corner, he sat. Master or that is what I call him. I am sure he has a name, but I do not deserve to use it in his presence. That was the first thing when he brought me into his home to live. I made the mistake of speaking without approval, and for a week straight, I felt the wrath of a disgusted man.
“Come in, Kitten. I want to hear about your evening, but first, remove the clothing. All of it. Place it in the corner and come sit on your pillow next to me,” he said.
I obediently removed my dress, placing it on the highbacked Queen Anne chair in the foyer. No panties, no bra, but the 5-inch stiletto’s removed and placed on the top of the clothing. I wore no jewelry, Masters wishes. One day, he would fasten the only jewel I would need around my neck, but I am not worthy of such an honor, not yet at least. I would never ask for such a thing as the punishment would fit the crime.
“Sir, may I advance?” I asked.
A simple nod of his head, along with an exhale of smoke that billowed toward the high beamed ceiling. My eyes following the light grey clouds as they hovered over him like an ominous cloud. Without noise, I advanced, dropping down onto the red pillow with the strands of gold tapered through the fabric. It was expensive and my seat. I was not to sit on the furnishings. All of it antique and saved for guests, not pets. I leaned my head over to rest on his leg. There is no better feeling in the world than the quiet time between a submissive and her Dominate.
“I’ve was told that you behaved well and pleased my guests,” he said.
A slight purr escaped. I knew I had, but hearing it was different. I wanted to know that, above all else, Master was pleased with my actions. His hand is petting the top of my head. I never said a word. I am not worthy of speaking unless he gives me that permission.
“Since you’ve pleased me so deeply, I have decided to give you a gift,” he said, handing me a box. “Open it,” he added.
The box adorned in the palest pink ribbon. I was sure it was the collar that I craved. I tugged the ribbon, the silk looping around my fingers. The moment it was released, my stomach tightened. It was not a collar, but something far scarier. A chastity belt!
“….” my mouth opened and shut right away. I am not to ask, but to receive.
“Since you did so well tonight, this is your gift. You will not allowed to touch yourself while I am away. Stand up and slip the panties on. Are you still dirty?” Master asked.
Nodding, I stood and pulled them on with a heavy heart of reluctance. I love orgasms, but he was right. This body is no longer my own.
With a key in his hand, Master locked the device, looking up at me with a smile upon his face.
“I am doing this because that is mine. I own your pussy, and if you were to get weak and touch it, I would need to punish you. You will have one day a month without it when I am not around, but other than that, it will remain on until I remove it. Do you understand me?” he asked.
Again, all I responded with was a nod. At times words are not needed to express yourself. With Master, that was the case.
“Go to bed and sleep. I will wake you in the morning for my needs. Good night Kitten. Sleep well,” he said, his attention back to his phone. I was dismissed.