"Good Girl" 2
#2 of Good Girl
A Master plays with her Pet.
Second part.
"Good girl"
And then our night began.
The clasp never left my hand as I rolled her nipple around with my tongue. God those sounds she was making. They made my mouth salivate and my groin tingle.
A loud metallic click signalled the end of my taste test. I leaned back to look her over as the leash slid through my hands. Beautiful. Soft pale skin laid bare yet accentuated by the black leather collar and the crimson tinge of her cheeks. Beautiful, was an understatement.
I wrapped the leash around my left hand, pulling it taut. It tugged on her collar, my pet leaning forward only to remember the restraints keeping her seated. She frowned, hungry eyes begging me for what she did not possess the courage to say.
I ignored them, standing up and leaning in to adjust her collar so that the D-ring was on the back of her neck. I felt her warmth against me and glanced down with a smile to find my lil one nuzzling my chest. She purrrrrred, the sound rolling through her mouth as she attempted to _encourage_me to coddle her. It was adorable, to say the least. She knew that her cuteness was one of my weaknesses and she knew exactly how to take advantage of it.
I did, however, know how to cheat her out of it. My hand pulled hard on the leash. My girl yelping as the leash tugged her back against the chair. Taking advantage of her confusion I went around and hooked the leash to the desk behind her, forcing her to sit straight in addition to her other restraints.
The whimper that came next stunned me. Fear clinging to my chest as I forced myself to breathe deeply. Had I gone too far? Did I pull too hard? Did she forget to tell me it was a bad day? Millions of questions went through my mind as I steeled myself and walked around to stand before her.
There. I found. What I can only describe as. Perfection.
My little one looked up at me as she squirmed in the seat. She was whimpering, not because she was hurt or scared. But because she was aroused to the point of breaking. No longer afraid of being heard, she squirmed and whined in my direction. Legs tied to the chair, hands held in place by her own weight, leash forcing her to stand straight, back against the chair. She knew, as if she hadn't realized it before, that she was mine.
I knew, that she was. IS. Mine. ALL MINE.
And now. There was nothing she could do about it.