A Little More then I Bargained For (M/F) *Completed*

[BlissfulMisery]

Had some idle inspiration at one point for something that would probably fit this board.

Enjoy (or not).

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Chapter 1:

I felt a tug on my collar.

“Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

I redoubled my efforts. Trying to lick oatmeal out of a dog bowl was proving a real challenge. I wished I had the use of my hands, but they were secured with rope behind my back, tied at multiple points such that my arms were forced tightly together.

So there I was. Kneeling on the bedroom carpet, my upper body bent down, my face half buried in oatmeal, trying my very best to get as much of it as possible in my mouth, rather then on my face and hair, hair that I did my best to keep out of the bowl. By this point I was pretty sure I could feel some kind of oatmeal-based icicle forming on my nose.

Lifting my face from the bowl to take a proper breath, I took the opportunity to glance up. Mark was holding my leash, one of his black dress shoes tapping the floor, obviously impatient.

To an outside observer, at a glance we would probably look like some kind of business man and his secretary. Mark was wearing a neatly pressed dark suit and tie, along with beige dress pants. His face was well shaved, only having a small amount of stubble, and his dark hair was well groomed.
I was wearing a white shirt and black skirt, along with stockings and two-inch heels. My light brown hair was disheveled, falling all around the dog bowl. Overall it was a fairly standard getup that nobody would be surprised to see in an office.

Except of course most people would have at least raised an eyebrow at my current activities. And frankly, I was hoping to be wearing a lot less by the time the night was over.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough. Sit up.”

I had not actually managed to eat a whole lot, but I obeyed.

I looked at Mark. His hazel eyes studied my face, and he was clearly amused by what he was seeing. I felt myself flush in embarrassment.

“You look like shit.” His statement was punctuated by a bit of oatmeal finally getting free from my nose, and dropping down onto my shirt below.

“Let me clean you up a little.”

Tugging on my leash to make sure I would follow, he headed towards the in-suite bathroom, sitting me down on a stool in front of the mirror.

I truly was a sorry sight. Oatmeal was caked all over my face. Despite my best efforts, some of my hair had been covered in it as well.

Using some paper towels, Mark first wiped off the majority of the mess.

“You are a really messy eater.” He gently joked at my expense.

Afterwards, he wet a paper towel and wiped off the residue, and finally used a towel to wipe my face completely clean. I was glad I had not worn much make-up.

My face saved from its oatmeal prison, I smiled. Mark always said I had a beautiful face. Green eyes, small chin, small mouth, I had a great opportunity to study myself in the mirror while he fussed over me.

Mark then moved on to my hair, quickly rinsing it out and then combing the affected portions to remove the tangles. He had always loved my hair. Before I met him, I had it down almost to my shoulders. On his request, I had now grown it out so that it spilled over my shoulders, falling down my upper back. Having him work on my hair was one of my favorite things in the world. After gently washing it he would dry it, and comb it until every single tangle was gone. By the time he would be done, my hair would be silky smooth, shiny. Like a fairy tale princess perhaps I thought with another smile.

I had been sort of hoping he would do this now, but I knew it was a vain hope. Usually such things were reserved for the end of the night, as a way to unwind.

After he was done he kissed me on the cheek and thumbed at the name tag attached to my collar. Caroline.

His Caroline, his baby doll. I liked how snug the collar was, always reminding me it was there. That he was always there for me. His kiss had sent a tingle through my entire body.

Mark marched me back to the bedroom and brought me a glass of water to drink. After I was done, he said: “I have to finish up some work tonight, so you will have to wait a while. So that you don’t misbehave while I am gone, you will be tied up.”

I had always fantasized about being tied up, ever since I was a girl. I would imagine myself as a princess, tied up and then saved by a charming prince. Or kidnapped by a killer, tied up, but then saved by the police at the last second. Or a dozen other similar fantasies. I spent many hours daydreaming of struggling, fighting the bonds, the tight ropes digging harder and harder into my flesh.

It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get Mark on board with this, specifically the whole ‘tying me up and leaving me alone’ part, but eventually he had caved. I always appreciated when he did this for me.

I went to lie down on the bed, but he shook his head. “No, on the floor. On your belly.”

I obeyed. Secretly I was wishing he would tie me on a hard, stone floor, like I was really kidnapped in a basement. Even the bathroom tile would be okay. He put my leash down on the floor, going to get rope from its assigned place in the dresser, and it was not long before I was tightly trussed.

My hands had originally been tied behind me, but now he had added quite a few more ropes. My legs were bent back, tied tightly together, and he had then tied my wrists to my ankles. The ropes were very tight, and my back was arched uncomfortably, more then I was used to. Perhaps it was a little too tight, but I was in the mood for a rough tie today. Mark was always afraid to tie me too tight and I always had to keep asking him to make it tighter, more restrictive. It seemed today he had wanted to preempt my complaints.

“Are you okay? Comfortable? No pain anywhere? I made it very tight today like you always want.”

“Yes Sir, it’s great. I won’t be able to misbehave like this.” I smiled at him.

He usually called me his doll or his girl when we played. I called him Sir. Originally it had been a sort of joke, given with a flippant half-salute after he had commanded me to do something or other that I no longer even remembered. As we had grown into our current relationship, it had become a term for recognizing his authority and responsibility over me. He would take care of me, and I would obey him.

Of course right now I was being more mischievous then obedient. I had sort of lied to him about the tie being comfortable. I felt a little rush at my small rebellion, and was excited for the coming struggles. It would feel much more real now, just like my fantasies, since I would actually want to get out, rather then pretend to.

Mark then brought a pair of my panties to my mouth. I opened wide, and he stuffed them in. I tasted them. Clean ones. I imagined a kidnapper not being quite as accommodating, but it was good enough.

He then proceeded to duct tape my mouth closed, wrapping a few rolls around the back of my head (being careful to not catch too much of my abundant hair, as we had had a ‘fun’ experience once extricating all the tape residue from my hair) and then tightly tied a silk scarf around the back of my head to make it even harder to work the tape off. I tried to make sounds, but the best I could manage was some muffled grunts.

Perfect.

After checking to make sure I could still breathe, Mark blindfolded me with a sleeping mask, held in place by another silk scarf wrapped around it. Before putting on the last touch, earplugs, he said “I’ll be back in a while, and you can finish your dinner then.”

I assumed he was talking about the bowl of oatmeal somewhere nearby. Maybe if I intentionally got my hair really dirty next time he would be forced to clean and brush it all out, I thought, continuing my current rebellious streak.

While I could not really hear much due to the earplugs, I could feel his footsteps recede through the floor as he left the room.

I was all alone, completely helpless.

[Shotrow]

Very intriguing! It's very realistic, and I can feel the intimacy between the two characters. Reminds me very much of my limited real life experience in a good way.

This kind of intimate, down-to-earth story isn't normally what I go for, but after seeing some of the intelligent feedback you've left on other stories, I was very interested when I saw you had posted a story of your own. Of course, I don't want to make an premature assumptions about where the story goes from here.

I did find the line about looking like a businessman and his secretary amusing, considering that at that point in the story Caroline was on a leash with her face buried in a bowl of oatmeal on the floor. XD

Anyways, keep it up! I can't wait for the story to deliver what the title promises to the bratty sub. :3

[Mineira1986]

Well, D/S and consensual fiction are not my thing, but this is very well written.

From our DMs and your comments from other stories, like Shotrow said, I was also interested in your story. It really shows a romantic relationship, where the dom has the power because the sub gives it to him. I like the mention of how she is the one who likes to be tied up and left alone and she's the one who had to convince him to do it. Beautiful.

I hope there is more =).

[Mr Underheel]

[mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention] This is great work! Have you actually lived this? Love it!

[h56jh1]

good story line. I quite enjoy it. Hope there is more to come in this story.

[BlissfulMisery]

Hey,

Appreciate all the positive comments so far.

To address specific points:

Very intriguing! It's very realistic, and I can feel the intimacy between the two characters. Reminds me very much of my limited real life experience in a good way.

This kind of intimate, down-to-earth story isn't normally what I go for, but after seeing some of the intelligent feedback you've left on other stories, I was very interested when I saw you had posted a story of your own. Of course, I don't want to make an premature assumptions about where the story goes from here.

I did find the line about looking like a businessman and his secretary amusing, considering that at that point in the story Caroline was on a leash with her face buried in a bowl of oatmeal on the floor. XD

Anyways, keep it up! I can't wait for the story to deliver what the title promises to the bratty sub. :3

Yes, I tend to have an (overzealous) focus on 'realism', which can be both a good or bad thing in some cases. And that includes focusing more on 'down-to-earth' things as you said, rather then whacky improbable fantasy scenarios.

Still I do recognize the latter is what most people are looking for in these types of stories (as they tend to be more exciting).

As for where the story is going from there, well there are multiple instances of foreshadowing various things and they are pretty much all about as obvious as a brick to the face. Subtle this one is not.

As for my comments in other places vs this story, well, I do not know exactly what you are expecting, but perhaps you might end up disappointed. But I guess that will have to be seen.

The line about clothing vs what is happening was intended as a bit of ironic humor (ie contrasting their relatively normal manner of dress vs what is happening, which is anything but normal). I'll admit the wording on the sentence there was awkward however.

Well, D/S and consensual fiction are not my thing, but this is very well written.

From our DMs and your comments from other stories, like Shotrow said, I was also interested in your story. It really shows a romantic relationship, where the dom has the power because the sub gives it to him. I like the mention of how she is the one who likes to be tied up and left alone and she's the one who had to convince him to do it. Beautiful.

I hope there is more =).

Well, I cannot promise that this story will break that mold for you (as you may not like where it ends up going), but I appreciate the fact that you are willing to give it a shot. I hope you do end up enjoying it.

This is great work! Have you actually lived this? Love it!

No, this is not a real story. Technically it is (very loosely) based off an anecdote that was shared a long time ago by someone else, but only the very very broad strokes were mentioned then, and any details are 100% made up.

I just tend to prefer to write in first person because it feels more immersive, even though I recognize usually third person is the more accepted/better perspective to use.

good story line. I quite enjoy it. Hope there is more to come in this story.

Indeed there is more to come and I appreciate the sentiment. Next chapter will be posted in 1-2 days.

[Shotrow]

Ah, there's no need to be insecure about the kind of story you choose to write. There's more than enough room here for different types of stories. I'll keep reading as long as it's well-written (which it is), and I'm sure there are plenty of people who have been wanting something more grown-up and relatable than what's typical in these forums. Looking forward to more.

[slackywacky]

I loved it. Thank you for posting. And I hope there will be more (please, pretty please)?

[BlissfulMisery]

Ah, there's no need to be insecure about the kind of story you choose to write. There's more than enough room here for different types of stories. I'll keep reading as long as it's well-written (which it is), and I'm sure there are plenty of people who have been wanting something more grown-up and relatable than what's typical in these forums. Looking forward to more.

Certainly, but I am not looking at it as a mark against myself (sorry if it came across that way), just commenting on the proverbial story market. Either way do appreciate the sentiment regardless.

Not sure I would describe myself as writing 'grown-up' stuff either but depends on definitions I guess. Generally I trend towards awkwardly funny/outright strange/excessive.

I loved it. Thank you for posting. And I hope there will be more (please, pretty please)?

Thank you for the kind words. As I said before, there will indeed be more very soon.

[charliesmith]

Fantastic start! Loving the premise, I am filled with a lot of questions now and hopefully they get answered in the future chapters!

[BlissfulMisery]

Fantastic start! Loving the premise, I am filled with a lot of questions now and hopefully they get answered in the future chapters!

Appreciate the words of support. I think generally speaking any question will be answered, just maybe not the way one might want.

Anyways time for the next chapter.

[BlissfulMisery]

A bit of a turn in tone, but not really a surprising one I think. I hope it is enjoyable to read.
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Chapter 2: (The consequences of one's actions)

I began testing my bonds. The first few times Mark had tied me up, I had escaped easily, but he had quickly learned from his initial mistakes. My odds were not looking good. I could barely move my arms and legs at all, and any movement just made my back more uncomfortable then it already was. I could move my head, but that was not going to help me much in my current situation. My questing fingers could not find any knot within their limited reach.

I had no idea how long Mark would be gone, so I settled in for the long haul. I had taken naps before while tied up to pass the time, but this tie was uncomfortable, and I was having trouble relaxing at all. Switching tactics, I started to daydream to distract myself.

I played out many old fantasies. Sometimes Mark was my savior in them, sometimes he was the villain. Most of them involved sex.

Being tied so tightly was exciting to begin with for me, but now my imagination was running wild as well, and I was quite aroused, a familiar warmth in my core and wetness between my legs. I was still clothed, and could feel my underwear fighting a valiant battle to keep everything contained. I imagined someone finding me so obviously aroused. Even the imagined humiliation of such was only further exciting me. However I was still helpless to do anything about it.

Frustrating and exhilarating at the same time. Tight ropes digging into my flesh, reminding me how helpless I was. I moaned softly into my gag.

I had lost all track of time by this point. It could have been hours for all knew, but eventually I could not ignore the growing problem I was facing.
The tie had been uncomfortable to begin with. My initial struggling, and simple time in the same position, had only made the situation worse. Now my back was in actual pain, and getting more so by the minute.

A jolt of fear coursed through me. What if I still had hours left to go? I was no longer sure I could make it. Tears welled up in my eyes. Before this all started, I had smugly said to myself that I wanted to really want out, really struggle. Well I was getting my wish, and it was a lot less fun then I had expected.

I tried to hold still as long as I could, painfully long minutes. I knew that struggling would only worsen my situation, but it was not long before fear overrode reason and I was thrashing as hard as I could. My fingers reached for the knot that was not there. I wanted desperately for Mark to come back, to free me from my self-imposed predicament.

I had started to roll around frantically, and then…

My face hit something solid. Sticky wetness on my face and hair. Some of it was on my nose, threatening to block my breathing. I recoiled, trying to get away, now in full panic mode. I tried to cry out through the gag, to no avail.

Deep breath. I tried to calm myself. Deep breath. And another. I was fine. I could breathe.

I realized I had rolled over into the bowl of oatmeal. My face and hair were dirty again. I had probably smeared oatmeal all over the floor in my rolling. The pain was getting worse too. Mark was going to come back to me in agony, oatmeal all over the bedroom carpet, all because I was an idiot. A complete idiot who overestimated herself, and worse, lied to Mark when he had asked a basic safety question.

I deserved what was happening to me for being so stupid. Tears welled up at the thought, and the thought of not knowing how long I would be stuck like this.

I was sobbing now, both from the physical pain, and from the pain of my guilt. Soon, the terror that I had tried to control came crashing back in full force and I was back to frantically struggling again.

I felt hands on me. Someone was fumbling with the knots. They were trying to say something to me, but I was having trouble making it out through the earplugs. I was struggling wildly, thrashing around uncontrollably, no longer thinking clearly, only wanting to be freed.

The person working on the knots sat on top of me, pinning me in place, preventing me from obstructing their task. Suddenly, the rope between my ankles and wrists was released, cut free. I could finally stretch out properly, and the pain greatly diminished. I lay there, finally feeling sweet relief.

The rest of my bonds were removed one by one. Then my blindfold and earplugs. Through tears I could see Mark’s worried face. A pair of EMT shears was laying on the floor, apparently what had been used to cut the rope.

“Are you okay right now?” He asked.

I nodded, still crying.

He worked on my gag slowly, untying the scarf, separating the duct tape carefully from my face and making sure he was not pulling my hair along with it. I coughed the panties out myself and started working on loosening my jaw.

“I was checking on you every twenty minutes. You were fine, and then suddenly I came back to you freaking out. What happened?”

It had been less then twenty minutes then, since I had begun to panic. It had felt much longer.

I buried my face in Mark’s chest, and he hugged me, stroking my head. My arms and legs were still sore and a little weak, but I was starting to calm down. The pain in my back was almost gone, but remained a vivid reminder of my ordeal.

Eventually I managed a response, going from silence to talking way too quickly, almost tripping over the words. “I messed up. I’m so sorry. I lied to you. The tie was too tight but I didn’t say anything. It started really hurting after a while and I freaked out. And I rolled over into the bowl. I’m so sorry. I got it all over.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay now.” Mark tried to comfort me.

After kissing the top of my head, he held me in silence for a while longer.

Afterwards, he brought me a glass of water to drink. After I was done, he took me to the bathroom to, for the second time now, clean my face and hair off. There was not that much oatmeal, as most of it had ended up on the carpet, but it still took a while to get me cleaned up as what had remained was much more spread out then before.

Long, silent minutes later, after he was finished, I was still sitting in the stool, looking down at the floor in shame.

“Look up.” Mark said.

I looked up, my eyes meeting his in the mirror. He was standing behind me, one arm resting on my shoulder and another holding the leash.

“You lied to me.” He was upset.

I glanced away, not able to look him in the eye.

“Pay attention when I speak to you.” He tugged on my leash. I looked at him again.

“You lied to me. Worse, your lie led to you being hurt. Why did you lie to me?”

“I thought it would be more exciting if I had a real reason to want to escape.”

It sounded so stupid said out loud.

“Uh huh. More exciting.”

I had to force myself to keep looking at him. I wanted to be anywhere else but there at the moment.

“Well I hope it was exciting enough for you. Do you know how I felt when I found you sobbing on the floor, and a giant mess on the carpet?”

I waited for him to continue.

“I was terrified. Terrified for you. You looked like you were having a seizure. What if you had gotten really hurt?”

“What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?” He raised his voice slightly, not yelling, but stern, and I unconsciously tried to make myself as small as possible.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Please. I won’t ever do anything like that again. I wasn’t thinking.” I was babbling. My emotions were a tangled knot. I felt scared about what had happened, guilty over lying, ashamed at allowing the desire to play out a fantasy to override my better judgment. I knew better then that. I wanted, no, needed to feel like a little girl being scolded. I needed an outlet for these emotions.

“Oh, you are sorry. Well. You are right about not doing anything like that again. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Ten. You are getting ten for this. Go get ready.” He said.

My heart sank. I was going to get a spanking. And not the fun kind. Only ten though. Not so bad.

He led me back to the bedroom, tossing my leash on the bed, and left for a moment. I bent over the edge of the bed, pulling my stockings and underwear down. Then I did my best to pull my tight skirt up, eventually managing to hike it up enough to expose my now bare ass.

Mark came back. I turned to look at him. He was holding the cane.

Mark had spanked me many times before. Usually it was with his hand, or with the back of my hairbrush. Those weren’t so bad, in fact often they were pretty enjoyable and I even looked forward to them, that warm glow on my bottom.

But when I really screwed up, he used the cane. Just seeing it brought back memories.

“Ass all the way up in the air. Don’t slouch.” He said.

I adjusted my posture. He put a bit gag into my mouth for me to bite on. I bit down hard.

“Why are you being punished?” He asked.

“Because I lied to you. Because I made a mess.” I responded through clenched teeth. I was nervous. But even worse I felt the weight of my guilt. I had lied to Mark, and for something so stupid.

“And?”

I thought a little more. “Because I ended up hurting myself. Because I scared you to death.”

“And?”

“For my own good. So that I never do it again.”

“Good. Count them out. Get ready and don’t move.”

I mentally braced myself.

The cane whistled through the air. I jumped as it impacted, the sharp sting lancing across my buttocks. Painful, but it had not been as bad as I had expected. I relaxed a little.

“One.” I counted.

The second strike caused me to inhale sharply. It was much worse. The first one had apparently been a warm-up.

I already wanted it to stop, but I knew I had to continue. He would not strike me again until I counted the strike, but I knew from experience it was better to just get it over with rather then give myself time to think about it too much, especially since the pain tended to build to its peak a few seconds after each strike.

“Two.”

Again. I bit down even harder.

“Three.”

A tear rolled down my left cheek. I promised myself I would not cry.

“Four.”

This one landed on almost the same spot as one of the previous ones. The pain was even more intense. My fingers dug into my palms.

“Five.”

I could feel the welts starting to form. I had to force myself to not move.

“Six.”

This time I chocked back a scream.

“Seven.”

I could feel another tear coming. I tried to stop it.

“Eight.”

My ass felt like it was on fire.

“Nine.”

Maybe because I knew it was the last one, the tenth did not feel so bad.

“Ten.”

It was over.

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Obviously leaving someone bound and alone is never a good idea as a lot of things can go wrong. Also, this chapter cuts here a little suddenly because it is the natural break point (and it is already a bit longer), but there is a bit of follow-up to events at the start of the next chapter.

[slackywacky]

Wow, that was a pretty darn good description of somebody in distress and somebody finding somebody in distress. I have been in that situation (finding somebody in distress, actually fainting while tied up in my case) and you feel pretty helpless and scared. Exactly what Mark went through. Well written.

[Shotrow]

For someone who initially "took a lot a lot of convincing" to play these games, Mark does play the disciplinarian well. Another good chapter!

[BlissfulMisery]

Wow, that was a pretty darn good description of somebody in distress and somebody finding somebody in distress. I have been in that situation (finding somebody in distress, actually fainting while tied up in my case) and you feel pretty helpless and scared. Exactly what Mark went through. Well written.

Thank you for the compliment

For someone who initially "took a lot a lot of convincing" to play these games, Mark does play the disciplinarian well. Another good chapter!

Well, he took a bunch of convincing on the 'tie up and leave her' part. Apparently his misgivings were founded, although perhaps not in the way he had expected. Appreciate feedback!


Next chapter probably within the next day.

[BlissfulMisery]

Chapter 3:

Mark was at my side almost immediately. Stroking my hair and back, he spoke softly. “It’s okay.”

I looked up at him.

He wiped the two tears from my face. “My good girl. I forgive you.”

With those words it was like a weight had lifted from my shoulders. His words allowed me to let go of my guilt towards him, and the caning had allowed me to let of my guilt towards myself. As my body began to physically relax, I could feel some of my emotional tension draining away as well.

Instead of dwelling on it, tip toeing around Mark, being apologetic for weeks, I could move on, having paid a price for my misbehavior (even if it was symbolic), instead of leaving the issue hanging in the air, unresolved. And Mark could be sure I was sincere rather then just saying what he wanted to hear.

It had been the reminder I needed, a rude wake-up call, a reality check on how casually I had decided to lie to Mark, and without even thinking about the potential consequences. Not just to me, not just specifically what had ended up happening. But the long term consequences to our relationship if lying became normalized within it, if dishonesty and mistrust crept in. Mark had to be able to trust me next time, or there could never be a next time, if he thought I was lying to him again.

As I lay there and thought about it, Mark had gotten up.

He returned shortly, with cream for my sore bottom.

“Lie over my lap.” He said, sitting down on the bed. I maneuvered over, my bottom now splayed over his lap.

“Are you ready?” He asked. I nodded. I knew he was being as gentle as possible, but I winced at his touch, and when he started slowly rubbing the cream in. To distract myself I spoke to him.

“I’m sorry I made you worry, and I’m sorry I lied to you. It won’t happen again.” It was a little stiff as I was mentally stuck a little too much in my role, but it was not really about the specific words.

He smiled at me. “And I already said I forgive you.”

The cream was starting to help, the sensation becoming dulled. However I was still going to be sore for a while. At least it would act as a reminder.

“By the way… when I checked earlier I saw you were having fun. As an extra punishment, those panties will be your gag next time I tie you up.” Mark grinned as he finished what I had started, pulling my panties all the way off. His hands brushed my legs as he did so, sending tingles through me.

Pushing me off, his work with the cream finished, he stored the panties and put away the cream.

On one hand I was not looking forward to the taste of used panties in my mouth. Well, maybe I was, but maybe I just did not want to admit it. On the other hand, he had confirmed there would be a next time. Despite earlier, I had still been afraid he would refuse to ever tie me again.

I smiled.

“I need to buy a camera so this does not happen again. Relying on checking in constantly was a mistake.” Mark said.

I nodded in response. It was not ideal from the standpoint of truly feeling left alone, but that illusion was already shattered anyways now that I knew he had been checking in on me periodically.

He took away the dog bowl as well, scooping up as many chunks of oatmeal as he could off the floor. There was still a lot stuck to the carpet and it would be annoying to clean up.

“I will clean it up.” I said when he came back and started picking at the carpet. It was only fair that I would fix my own mess.

“It’s already dried in, so there isn’t a huge rush, I wouldn’t worry about it right now.” Mark responded.

“By the way, Caroline, do you still want to continue the evening? Or do you just want to take a break? You were pretty shaken up before.”

He had called me by my actual name, instead of play names, so I knew he was asking me, not his submissive, who would have said yes to anything just to make him happy.

I had been scared, but he had comforted me. Honestly, in hindsight I had panicked a little too easily and I was a little ashamed. I decided I was not going to let it spoil the evening for either of us. I was now underwear-less, and aroused again from him touching me, and yes, even a little from the spanking, despite the pain. My body yearned for some resolution to the evening. And he had spent time tying me, checking in on me, taking care of me. I was eager to please him, make it up to him.

I grabbed my leash and pushed it into his hand, smiling.

“I’m ready for whatever Sir has planned.”

---------------------------------------------------

I was kneeling on the floor in front of Mark, wrists once again tied tight behind my back. I was still wearing my shirt, my stockings (still pulled down), and my heels, but the skirt was gone. In my current state, I wanted to avoid having it rub against my butt. Of course my heels did not help there, but I endured the slight discomfort for Mark. He loved seeing me in heels.

Mark’s pants were partially down, and his erect penis was right in my face.

“Are you ready for my cock?” He asked.

“Yes.” I responded.

“You don’t sound ready.” He pressed.

“I want to take your cock in my dirty little mouth. Please. Sir.” I said more eagerly. We had been trying to incorporate more dirty talk recently, and frankly it had been hit and miss so far. He was perhaps too reluctant to call me names, and I was perhaps a little too repetitive. Still, it was an ongoing process.

“Show me how much you want it.” Mark tugged my leash, pulling me towards him.

My tongue eagerly began licking the underside of his shaft. I worked my way up, flicking his tip with my tongue. He was obviously enjoying it. Since he was circumcised, it was easier. I had given blowjobs to an un-cut boyfriend a long time ago, and I had found it very awkward.

“Open wide.” He commanded, using the leash to pull my waiting mouth around his cock.

Shallow at first, slowly working my way deeper. My tongue was continuing it’s work along the underside.

Looking up into his eyes, I moved up and down on him. Tingles ran through my body as I tasted him, the mix of salty with a slight funk. I wanted to make it good, to please him. His pleasure was my pleasure.

Deeper and deeper. I mentally prepared myself, humming to try to relax my throat, and wrapping my thumb under my index finger so it was pressing down on my middle finger, then pressing down as hard as I could on my thumb with my index finger. It was a little trick that helped reduce my gag reflex, although I had no idea why it actually worked physiologically.

I went for it. Despite my efforts, I lasted about a second before gagging, my throat constricting around Mark. He let out a small moan of pleasure.
Pull back, give my throat a break, catch my breath. Hum louder. Relax. Inhale with the cock.

Better this time, I had successfully gotten it in and out of my throat. I looked at Mark. He was looking at me, his hips pressing towards me, wanting more, although he still let me set the pace. Knowing I was the cause of his pleasure was an empowering feeling, pushing me to continue as the pleasant warmth continued to flow through my body.

Again and again. I was getting better, I had only gagged once more. I tried to focus on keeping my tongue moving. My mouth was full with him. Mark was getting close.

“I don’t want to make a mess on your shirt.” Mark said.

I paused momentarily and looked up at him questioningly, mouth still full.

“I want to cum down your throat.” He clarified.

I understood.

He indicated when he was almost there, and I jammed him in as far as I could to force myself to gag. I could not taste anything so far back, but I could feel his cum sliding down my throat. My gagging clamped down on him over and over, trying to remove the obstruction, but I stubbornly held on, making his orgasm as intense as I could.

I held him there as long as possible, but eventually I had to breathe. Still gagging, gasping for air, I pulled away.

“That was amazing.” Mark said. I beamed with pride.

I spent some time swallowing all the excess saliva that had built up in my mouth, and fully catching my breath as I basked in the glow of his praise.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps if I was more capable of it (and if it would not have been such a tonal shift) I might have gone all the way into a slightly comedic angle here, since it already borders on such unintentionally just due to the matter of fact nature.

[BlissfulMisery]

Chapter 4:

I had rinsed out my mouth, first with water, and then mouthwash, along with a quick brushing. Mark had cleaned up as well.

One of us had been left satisfied, but I was still wanting. Pleasing Mark had made me feel good, but it also made me want him more.

Thankfully it looked like I was about to get my wish. On Mark’s command I had stripped, now only wearing my heels and collar. I was on all fours, facing the foot of the bed.

But he was not fucking me. However, I did not protest or complain. He would fuck me when he was ready.

Mark had other designs however. He left to get something and then came back. “I want you to stay completely still until or unless I tell you that you can move.” I was a little confused, but replied “Yes Sir.”

“Open your mouth.” he said, and when I obeyed, he stuffed a ball gag into my mouth, the straps going tight, pressing slightly into the sides of my now forced open mouth.

I was still confused why he had told me to stay still, until his hands started roaming my body. First scratching my scalp, then slowly working his way down the front of my body starting from my neck. Every touch sent tingles through my body, and he started kissing me on my back as well.

Already aroused, I desperately wanted to lean into his touch, but I was not allowed to. Between his hands freely exploring my body, the gag, and his orders to stay still, I felt surprisingly vulnerable despite not actually being bound in any way. His touches were electrifying and I could not help but moan into my gag, the only reaction I was allowed.

It was not long before his hands reached my breasts, lingering to play with them thoroughly. I let out a gasp as he grabbed both breasts in his hands and squeezed, first gently, then harder. Then he played with my nipples, hard by this point, rubbing them, then flicking them with his fingers. It was getting harder and harder to stay still. I did not know if I wanted to beg him to stop or beg him to let me move, react in any way, but it did not matter as the gag would have prevented me from vocalizing either wish.

Then he suddenly pinched my nipples, and gave them a slight twist. He was fairly gentle, and it was not actually all that painful, just unexpected, and I flinched slightly, gasping.

I tensed up. Did that count as disobeying his command? It was only a small flinch.

Mark had apparently noticed my reaction, and gently whispered into my ear “Shh, it’s okay.”

I allowed myself to relax, and he continued his way down to my belly, closer and closer to my groin. I was torn between wanting him to touch me there, and being afraid it would cause me to move again.

However it was not up to me, and eventually I did feel his fingers exploring around my slit. I wanted to scream into my gag, as I just wanted something, anything more, not this constant humiliating teasing and pulling back while I was helpless (but not really?) to do anything about it.

Far too long a time later, I did eventually get part of my wish as a vibrator was pressed between my legs, the buzzing sensation both exactly what I wanted, and exactly what I did not need right now. I tried to make just about every sound possible into the gag to distract myself, doing my best to stay perfectly still, which was not made easier by the vibrator periodically being pulled away, putting me more and more on edge.

As I slowly got closer and closer, I was forced to ponder if I could stay perfectly still during an orgasm. Sadly (Thankfully? I was not even sure anymore) I was not forced to find out as the relentless teasing was finally over. I was panting (well, as much as one can pant with a gag), even a little tired despite the whole ordeal not being that long. I wanted to collapse on the bed, melt into it like a puddle of goo, but I was not allowed to fully relax, still forced to stay still.

Mark was fully undressing, and after what felt like an eternity of waiting, I could feel Mark’s tip, wrapped in a condom, barely touching my waiting lips. I had never wanted to be fucked so badly in my life before.

But apparently Mark was still not ready to give me the release I craved.

He was pulling my leash forwards, threading it through the grate at the foot of the bed. He then wrapped it back around, still holding it such that it first went from the front of my collar, through and around the grate, and then back to his hand. I had no idea what he was doing. He then gathered most of my hair into his other hand, holding it like a ponytail.

His tip slid inside of me. Moaning in relief, I waited for him to begin.

“Don’t fight me. You can move now.” Mark said.

Huh? I was confused. Fight what?

Then Mark pulled back on my hair. I fought against it reflexively, but then remembered his words and let him pull me backwards. Onto his motionless cock. I figured this was just more of his messing with me at this point.

I was no stranger to having my hair pulled on. As much as Mark lavished attention on my hair, he also enjoyed playing with it while fucking me. And I loved it just as much, the sensation of my scalp being pulled on, a thousand little pinpricks of tingling pain that helped make me more excited by whatever was happening at the same time.

Then I felt my collar being tugged as he pulled on the leash. I was forced to move forward, off of Mark. Then my hair was pulled back. Then the leash again.

Realization dawned on me. I allowed myself to move at his silent direction. He was making me ride him, while still fully controlling my motions.
I did not need much prompting, now vigorously working myself on and off his shaft. When I got a little too eager, he held my leash tight, forcing me to stop and slow down, and then resumed guiding me.

I was moaning, trying to encourage him to let me ride him faster. Still, despite it all, I was furiously aroused by what he was doing. I was being pulled back and forth like a marionette on strings. He was in full control, making me fuck him exactly how he wanted. Which only turned me on more.

Back and forth. Faster and harder now, as he was getting excited too.

My orgasm came on fast and hard, all of the previous teasing finally paying off. He helped me along by upping the pace to something like ‘frantic’.
I was very satisfied.

Catching my breath, I was confused for a moment when he forced me to keep going.

“If you come early, you still have to finish what you started.” Mark said.

He continued to use me for his pleasure until he was spent.

---------------------------
I was completely naked. No heels, no collar, no gag. Lying in bed, sideways across the bed, my head suspended by a small mountain of pillows near the edge. My hair was flowing down the sides of the pile.

Mark was sitting in a chair behind me, brushing it.

After our escapades, we had taken a shower. Due to my still sore bottom, I did not feel like sitting in a hot bath, so Mark had to wash my hair in the shower. Afterwards, more cream for me, a luxurious hair dying session, and then finally, since I did not want to sit down on anything hard, and did not want to keep standing, Mark had built me the pillow mountain I was currently utilizing.

I adored the tingling in my scalp as he brushed my hair. Slow, smooth, gentle, brushing.

“I love your hair.” He said, unprompted. “I love you, Caroline. I should have been more careful earlier when you were tied up.” The words, even though I had heard them many times before, sent butterflies through me.

“And I love you too, Mark.” I replied. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Periodically Mark would use his other hand to take some grapes from a nearby bowl, and one by one, feed them into my waiting mouth. I giggled when he had missed once, the grape rolling across the bed.

Then it was time for my feet. He moved his chair to the other side to work on them. Using various implements, he cleaned under my toenails, between all my toes, and finally gave me a foot massage. We looked at each other, wordlessly sharing the wonderful moment.

Back to brushing again. I laid back, enjoying his attentions. He was really going all out today, even more then usual. Maybe in his own way, he was working out his own guilt over what happened earlier. I was surely not going to complain.

As for me, well, my fantasies had come true after all, in a roundabout way. Mark had saved me today, just like in my daydreams. And now I was being pampered like the princess I had imagined being. Well, after doing some things you would never find in a fairy tale, but nobody had said I couldn’t be a naughty princess.

Mark had saved me in more ways then one. From my predicament. From my own mistakes. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world to have him.
Even our relationship was an expression of our love for one another. I showed my love by submitting fully to him, desiring to please him, and he showed his love by guiding me, caring for me, watching out for me.

It was getting late. Soon enough the night would be over. We would sleep, go back to the realities of life. Work. Chores. Oatmeal I still had to clean off the floor. Every little ache, pain, struggle, annoyance, and curve ball that life always threw.

But we would be facing whatever came, together.

I smiled, content.

[Shotrow]

Continues to be a very steamy story with a lot of underlying sweetness. Is this the end, or are you planning even more?

[BlissfulMisery]

Continues to be a very steamy story with a lot of underlying sweetness. Is this the end, or are you planning even more?

I guess I never really specified anywhere, but yes this is the end. There was not that much room created in the initial setup for extension, was more of a small self-contained thing. Keeping it simple and all that.

Appreciate the compliment. It is a bit of a strange mix I will admit, but to me it is hard to imagine it any other way; you kind of need the 'sweetness' for things to actually last, else it can easily become simply playing a role for both parties.

[Mineira1986]

Well, you were right when you said, and I quote

as you may not like where it ends up going

But I have to say it's very well written. It actually shows a side that most D/S stories don't show. There is tenderness, there is caring. There is love between the two characters. Even the need for a harsh spanking. It's not solely for the amusement of the dom. It also helped the submissive to deal with her guilt. It's well written.

If I had to object something, it will probably be the too explicit sex scenes. This may come as a preference to me, as I'm not exactly into reading sex scenes with such explicity. Just that. The story is short, and even so the characters go into some kind of small journey. I liked that.

Not my usual reading, but you got my interest. Good work.

[BlissfulMisery]

Well, you were right when you said, and I quote

as you may not like where it ends up going

Yes, I indeed had a strong suspicion at the time along those same lines, hence what I said. Not something I perhaps wanted to be right on.

But I have to say it's very well written. It actually shows a side that most D/S stories don't show. There is tenderness, there is caring. There is love between the two characters. Even the need for a harsh spanking. It's not solely for the amusement of the dom. It also helped the submissive to deal with her guilt. It's well written.

If I had to object something, it will probably be the too explicit sex scenes. This may come as a preference to me, as I'm not exactly into reading sex scenes with such explicity. Just that. The story is short, and even so the characters go into some kind of small journey. I liked that.

Not my usual reading, but you got my interest. Good work.

I appreciate the feedback.

'Punishment' to me is a fascinating topic when it comes to D/S. It is, I feel, often a very misrepresented thing in media, usually as a directly sexual thing, as you put it, 'for the amusement of the dom'. In reality, like with most things, it is not quite that simple, and can take on many purposes/roles in different relationships. It can work in that very simple way in some cases, but I would argue that is a minority of cases. Not trying to say what I presented here was some kind of 'end all be all' 'only way to do things right' either, but merely one example, as I often do like to try to show more sides of such a thing.

Already summarized most of my thoughts on the 'tenderness' above I think, so I will spare the repeats.

As for the sex scenes, well yes, little argument there. That will always be a polarizing thing, some people are going to hate it. It does not help I tend to go so over the top on it, partly because it amuses me to do so, in a strange way. I always hate half-measures when consuming media (either go all the way or do not do it at all), and it carries over to my attempts to create it myself. Of two minds on this topic going forward - but no obvious answer to be had either way.

But enough waffling...

I am glad you did get something out of it, in the end, even if it was not your cup of tea. Probably the most flattering compliment I could get honestly.

[GreyLord]

I would have written earlier, [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention], but I just found your story. Well written, excellent descriptions, and a good feeling for possible reality.

[BlissfulMisery]

I would have written earlier, @BlissfulMisery, but I just found your story. Well written, excellent descriptions, and a good feeling for possible reality.

I appreciate both your time taken to read, and the feedback.

As for possible realities, well, there are many such, and much like one can create them in fiction, one creates them in reality through every decision one makes. But that is a whole other subject.

[tiedinbluetights]

Just found this story myself and am really grateful for having so. I love the realism, the tenderness, the emotions and the though processes of the narrator. As a sub myself, I fully identified with the desire to push oneself to the point of lying about one's comfort level--a sort of pushing one's own boundaries. I also, surprisingly for myself as a sub, identified with the Dom, and how I myself would have reacted if a person under my care was suddenly in distress. The indissociable words "authority and responsibility over" resonate through out the story.

Thanks for posting this story, and my apologies for taking so long to find it and read it. F/M stories are my usual cups of tea, and M/F are my rarest, yet the realistic tenderness and sweetness, which I seek in stories (and fail too often deliver in my own) were pleasantly clear and welcomed.

[BlissfulMisery]

You are very welcome! Nice to see it is still being appreciated, even if it is a bit rough around the edges, given it's age.

As a sub myself, I fully identified with the desire to push oneself to the point of lying about one's comfort level--a sort of pushing one's own boundaries.

It can be an enticing thing, but sometimes one needs to be shocked back into reality (as Caroline certainly found out)!

I also, surprisingly for myself as a sub, identified with the Dom, and how I myself would have reacted if a person under my care was suddenly in distress

Well, I do not think being worried for someone you care about is a trait reserved only for dominants

But I understand what you mean.

The indissociable words "authority and responsibility over" resonate through out the story.

I am glad it came across well - was sort of the intent/theme (as much as a relatively short and straightforward story like this can have one).

Thanks for taking the time to comment!