Milord had been gone for several days and sent me an instructional text.

Wear black stockings and shoes. Over the vanity bench. Head and eyes down. Wait silently.

And so I obeyed, my pussy getting softer and wetter by the moment. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I heard the door downstairs open. Footsteps on the stairs. The bedroom door opening.

I SO WANT TO LOOK UP at him, to greet him. to throw my arms around him, to open my mouth and suck his magnificent cock.

I wait.

I bought a new toy, my love. A crop.

I feel the soft leather slide slowly over the curve of my buttocks. I moan and lean back, raising my hips slightly. Without warm up, the crop crack down. Fire sears the spot and flames fly along my nerves. I drop my head and cried out.

Nice sound, don’t you think. Leaves a lovely red rectangle as well. 

Another crack and another shot of pain laces through my body. Now, my nipples are hard and I’m panting. I can smell my own arousal.

Perfect. Bet that stung. Let’s go with another ten, make it an even dozen. If you can stay still that long and not say a word, you’ll get a lovely reward. If you utter a single intelligible word, though, or if you try to wiggle away, I’ll double that dozen and plug your ass with the biggest plug we have. Then, rather than making love to you, I’ll fuck your mouth until I come down your throat. 

He had been steadily cropping me as he spoke and I’d lost count.

Is this satisfactory to you, my love?

yes, Milord.

Twenty minutes later, my buttocks was on fire, my ass filled to the point of splitting, and Milord’s cock deep down my throat.

Welcome Home, Milord.