A Roll Of The Dice free porn video

Her clit throbbing and desperate, she waited, naked and kneeling next to him.  The long, wicked paddle and a pair of dice—one red and one white—waited for her, on the coffee table.  The thick, black collar sat snugly around her neck, a constant reminder that she’d given herself to him, utterly and completely.  She was owned.  His to do with as he pleased.  The little padlock wasn’t even necessary; she loved the collar and what it symbolized, and she would never think of removing it without his permission.  Her hands were cuffed behind her back with the black cuffs, her ankles bound similarly, but with a bit more play in the thin chain.  Her back was straight, her head down, her knees spread wide, and her toes tucked up underneath her, as she’d been taught.  

She wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been there, kneeling and waiting, as he watched the baseball game.  Fifteen minutes?  Twenty?  She kept her head down, only craving his attention.  He ignored her.  That made her pussy drip.  

Her ass still showed the marks from the night before, from the paddle and the strap, when the dice had not been kind.  Spanking was never a punishment (she liked it too much).  His punishments were much more creative than that.  Much more wicked.  She’d been bad nine days ago, and hadn’t come since.  Her punishment had been 2 days of not touching her poor clit at all, followed by two days of edging but no orgasms.  Since then, she’d gotten to roll the dice, but without any luck.  She only got to come when she rolled a three with the white one.  Bad girls didn’t even get to roll the dice.    

Another drop slipped from her pussy and landed on the wood floor below her.  She knew she should tell him, beg him to clean up the mess she was making (that was rule nine; she always cleaned up the messes she made).  

Casually, without taking his eyes from the game, he reached out his arm and put his index finger near her lips.  She kissed it, hungrily, then opened her mouth wide.  He rewarded her by pushing his finger in, letting her suck on it.  She felt so submissive, cuffed and kneeling, her ass sore and her clit desperate.  Another drip.  She was going to be in trouble.

Another finger joined the first, his middle finger now being sucked on.  She looked at the crotch of his jeans, and saw that his cock getting hard.  That made her very happy, and she also felt some relief.  She always worried he would grow bored with her, want a new toy.  She’d been living with him, as his sub, for seven months.  Seven months of spankings and edges and teases.  Seven months of being used for his pleasure, his amusement.  Seven months of never coming, not even touching her clit, without permission.  Seven months of him making nearly every decision for her.  She had never been happier.  

“My pet, do you want to roll the dice?”

“Yes, Sir.  If it pleases you, Sir.”  She had never said no, despite the risks.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir.  Please, Sir.”

“There is a price to roll the dice.  What is it?”

“Twenty with the paddle, Sir.  Hard, without a warm up.”

 “That’s right.  But you want that, don’t you pet?  You want me to make your sore ass even worse.”

Another drip.  God, she needed to touch her clit.  “Yes, Sir.  Please Sir, please paddle me.”

“Okay, pet.  Head down, ass high.  Let’s tenderize that bottom.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, almost giddy.  She quickly put her head to the floor and arched her back, putting her ass high up for him.

After slowly standing, stretching his arms high above his head for a minute, like he had all the time in the world, he picked up the paddle and moved behind her.  Each moment stretched out into a lifetime, her anticipation building and building.  He rubbed the paddle back and forth across her ass.  “Pet, it looks like you’ve made a mess.  Naughty, naughty.”

She was suddenly scared.  “I’m sorry, Sir.  May I clean it up?”  Would he send her to bed early?  Not even spank her?  

“Did you know you were dripping?”

She knew not to lie.  She never lied to him, not after the one time, at the beginning.  She had felt so bad, even his punishment hadn’t been enough.  “Sir, I was about to ask if I could clean it up.”

“Pet….that will cost you ten extra with the paddle.  Beg for it.”

“Please Sir.  Pretty please.  Please give me 30 with the paddle, Sir.  Good and hard.”

“That’s my good girl.”  Those words made her heart nearly burst, even as her body shook, knowing a hard paddling was about to start.  

He rubbed the paddle over her tender bottom.  She tried to keep breathing, but then the paddle left her ass.

Crack!  Crack.  CRACK. 

The first few always hurt so so much, the skin of her ass still sore and bruised from the strap and paddle the night before.  She knew the endorphins would kick in soon, the buzz she so craved.  Part of her loved the pain, the hurt, the soreness for days afterwards, and the look of her punished ass in the mirror.  Part of her did not.

Crack.  Crack.  Crack…. 

 The endorphins flowed in, a sweet rush, taking her breath away.

 "Ten, Sir.”  She had almost forgotten to count.  That would have been ten more extras.  Not a good idea, considering the condition her ass was in.  “Thank you, Sir.”

“Good girl.”  Her heart swelled again.  It had been two years since she’d given herself to him, and she still craved every good girl, still would do anything to please him and hear those two little words.  

He tapped her ass again.  “Pet, keep that ass high and your back arched.”

“Yes, Sir.”  She strained for him, arched her back.

Crack, crack, crack.  

Now she was reveling in it, lost in the hurt, lost in being his.  She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to sit the next day, and the night was still so young.

“Twenty, Sir.” 

“Good girl.”  Between the pain and those words, she was nearly in heaven.  She took deep breaths, enjoying the moment.  

“Pet, back up.  Use my fingers to edge.”  Those words reminded her that her clit was alive and needy as hell.

Her head still pressed against the floor, she looked back at him, sitting on the couch again.  He smiled, a sweet, caring smile, and stuck out his hand.  She awkwardly backed up, towards him, until her pussy and clit were lined up with his fingers.  He lowered his hand slightly, and she pushed back.  His fingers spread her pussy lips, and pushed into her.

“Pet, you are so wet.  You didn’t enjoy your paddling, did you?”  Her pussy lips reached his hand, two fingers deep inside her.  She clenched tight around them.  She felt so owned, so submissive, handcuffed and her ass high in the air.  

“Yes, Sir, I did enjoy it.”  She blushed, hearing herself say that.

“That’s my good girl.”

His other hand squeezed her cheeks, and she gasped with the rush of pain.

“Okay, pet, that’s enough.  Edge yourself.”

She moved  her hips forward a few inches, feeling sad as his fingers slid out, then backed up again until his wet fingertips were against her clit.  She started to hump back and forth.

His other hand spread her cheeks, and she knew he was looking at her asshole.  It was still sore from the night before, too, from his cock taking it.  A fingertip teased her asshole as she ground against his fingers.

She so, so, so needed to come.  It had been far too long, and her clit was swollen, tender and needy.  

His fingertip pressed into her ass.   

Suddenly she was close, her clit twitching.

“Please, please, Sir, may I come?  Pretty pretty please?”

His fingers didn’t go anywhere, stayed right in the perfect spot.  Is he actually going to let me come?  She couldn’t believe it.  She opened her mouth, to cry out, to come, but he hadn’t said yes, hadn’t said anything.  “Sir!” 

His fingers pulled away.  “No, pet.  You know you have to wait for a three.”

She groaned.  She wanted to cry.  

“You may hump the air.”

She felt herself blush, but that didn’t stop her from grinding her hips, her clit so sensitive, air had a chance of pushing her over the edge.  The slightest touch would have done it, another second on his fingers, and she would have come so so hard.  

“You like it when I tease you like that, don’t you?  You like to hear no.”

It was true, she did.  “Yes, Sir.”  She loved to be denied.  Loved the mocking tone he used to tease her.  He knew what she needed, what she craved, and gave it to her.  Nothing made her feel as owned as his telling her no.  After all, she’d given herself to him, for his pleasure, for his amusement.  Nothing turned her on more than him acting like her desperate, desperate need to come didn’t matter to him one bit.  

The paddle tapped her bottom.

“The extra ten, pet.  For your naughty pussy dripping on the floor and you not cleaning it up.”  She arched her back, needing the pain again, to chase away the mountain of need in her tiny clit.  

“Please, Sir, please punish me.”

“Good girl.  How are extras given?”

“Extra hard, Sir.”

Crack, crack, crack.

Without mercy, he lit up her bottom, extra hard.  She wondered if he was actually upset about the dripping…

“Ten, Sir.”  There were tears now, running down her cheeks, making a mess out of the wooden floor in a different way.  

His hand ran over her ass, caressing it.  “I can feel the heat pulsing off of your bottom.  I like that.”  He squeezed her left cheek.  She gasped.  He gave her two smacks with his hand, then squeezed the other cheek.  She opened her mouth, to cry out, but couldn't actually make a sound.  

His hand ran up her spine and under her hair.  He gently took her hair between his fingers, wrapping it around his hand, then lifted her head up.  He kissed her, then kissed the tears on her cheek.  He held her close.  “Pet, we don’t have to finish.  You don’t have to roll the dice.  I can put you to bed, and we can play tomorrow.”

She hated that idea.  Really fucking hated it.  Her clit hated it too, more than the rest of her.  “No, Sir.”  That might disappoint him.  She would not do that, no matter the cost.  

“Are you sure, pet?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Okay, pet.  I’m going to put you in the corner.  When you come out, we’ll roll the dice.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

With his help, she awkwardly shuffled to the corner.  Still on her knees, her nose deep in the corner, she reached back and as gently as she could, took a cheek in each hand.  It hurt terribly.  She spread her cheeks, as she was supposed to in the corner.

“Good girl,” He said.  Despite the pain, that warmed her heart.  He kissed the top of her head, then rubbed her back for a moment.  “My good girl.”

She was a very happy pet.

*

After what felt like an eternity, his hand touched her shoulder.  She jumped a little, suddenly excited and nervous.  He kissed the top of each shoulder, gentle, sweet kisses.  “It’s time, my pet.  Go to the dice.”

She did the awkward, embarrassing shuffle again, back to the coffee table.  The white die waited for her, teasing and mocking her.  All she could think was, Please, please don’t be a one.  A one was the worst.  A one meant a trip to the shower for a quick rinse, then the chastity belt went on for 48 hours.  No edges.  Nothing anywhere near an orgasm.  Then she would grab her ankles for a session with his belt, followed by him coming in her mouth.  That part she liked, but the rest…. Please not a one. 

She got to the coffee table, looked up at him.  “Yes, pet, you may.”  She picked up the dice with her lips, held it above the table.  A two wouldn’t be too bad, she thought.  A two was a hand spanking over his lap, which she loved.  Then she’d be uncuffed so she could lay in front of him, on her back, and spread her legs to edge for him, with her fingers, as he watched.  The number of edges depended on the roll of the second die.

“Pet, are your eyes closed?”

She closed her eyes tight.  “Yes, Sir.”  She tried not to, but she couldn’t help hoping for a three.  A glorious three meant orgasms.  Heaven.  And if she could roll a second three, it meant she got to come again tomorrow.  So far, that had only ever happened twice.  Even as she thought about those lovely double threes, part of her mind tugged at her the other way.  The wicked part that didn’t want orgasms.  That only wanted spankings and denial.  To be shown that she was owned and for his amusement.  The part of her he knew, that he saw far too clearly.  It was, after all, why the game was so difficult. 

“Pet, are you ready?”  She nodded her head.  “Good luck, my pet.  You may roll the die.”

She breathed in deep.  She was so nervous, one tremor after another zipping through her naked body.  Her lips opened and the dice fell to the coffee table, ticking and spinning against it.  She held her breath.  What was it?

He didn’t say a word, letting the moment stretch out, longer and longer.  She swallowed a moan, the tension too much.  Finally, his voice full of mock concern, he said, “Oh, pet, that’s too bad.”

It wasn’t a three, that was for sure.  Please, please, please, not a one.  

Standing very close to her, he said, “Pet, you may open your eyes.”

Her eyes opened, and she stared at the die, just inches in front of her.  

It wasn’t a one.  It was a five.  She could almost swear she heard her clit moan in frustration.  Her heart tightened in her chest, but it could have been worse.  At least it wasn’t a one.  

“A five two nights in a row, my pet.  That’s bad luck.”  His voice didn’t sound all that concerned.  More amused than anything.  That made her clit moan again.  “You know what that means.  The strap.  Roll again, let’s see how bad it is.”

Her body trembling, she reached with her lips for the other die.  Like a good girl, she closed her eyes.  

“You may let it drop, pet.”

She did, hearing the die hit the coffee table again.  

He said, “Oh, that’s not too bad.  It could have been worse.”  God, had she rolled another five?  She wasn’t sure her bottom could take that.  Actually, she was sure she could take it, for him.  “You may open your eyes, pet.”

She did.  A three.  Fuck.

She could hear him smiling.  “Isn’t that cruel?  Just one roll too late.  Like the dice are teasing you.”  She gave him a dirty look.  Usually that didn’t get her in too much trouble.  Usually.

He acted like he didn’t even notice the look.  “Go and get the strap.”

“Yes, Sir.  Sir, may I?”  She motioned towards the cuffs behind her back, asking if she could slip them under her feet.  

“Yes, pet, you may.”

She slipped the cuffs under under her butt, then under her feet, a move she was getting good at.  Then she crawled towards the spare bedroom, and the closet they kept all of the toys in.

A moment later, she was crawling back, tasting the leather strap in her mouth.  It had the feeling of deja vu, since she’d done the exact same thing twenty-four hours earlier.  Deep down, though, a five was one of her favorite rolls.  After his hand, the strap was her favorite implement to be spanked with.  And the humiliation that came with it…

She crawled to him, sitting comfortably on the couch.  He was sending a message on his phone, so she waited patiently.  Well, perhaps not patiently, but she knew better than to interrupt her Sir.  After two long minutes, he put down the phone and looked at her.  He took the strap out of her mouth, then leaned forward and kissed her.  

“Okay, pet, get those cuffs behind your back.  Then get that tummy on the floor.”  She smoothly slid the cuffs over her feet and behind her back, then turned and lowered herself to the floor.  She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deep.  This is so embarrassing.  No matter how many times she did it, it didn’t get any easier.  Of course she was dripping, too.  Part of her craved it like ice cream in August.

“Pet…”

Flat on her stomach, she rotated her body, so she was pointed away from the couch.  Her pussy pointed right at him.  She spread her legs as wide as she could, as she had to, showing him everything.  

“Would you like to rub your clit against the floor, pet?”

“Yes, Sir.”  It was the absolute truth.  Her clit wanted it.  She wanted it.  

“You may begin.  Edge for me.”

She moved her hips, grinding her clit against the hard floor.  It felt so good.  And she knew he was watching, which made her blush and drip at the same time.

He brushed the end of the strap against her calf, caressing her with it.  “Don’t get there too quickly, my pet.  You know what’s waiting for you.”

Yes, she did.  But his words only made her hotter.  More turned on.  She was breathing hard, her clit wanting her to go faster.

“What a naughty girl.  I can see how wet you are.  You’re not enjoying this, are you?  Humping the floor like a naughty girl?  And your poor cheeks are already so red.”

Why did his teasing, taunting words have such an impact on her clit?  Because he knew her so well?  

“Sir, please…”

“Please what, pet?” 

“I’m close.  Sir, may I please come?”

She already knew what the answer was going to be.  After all, she hadn’t rolled a three.  

“No, pet, stop.  Get that ass up in the air for me.”  The wicked truth was she loved to hear him tell her no.  Craved it.  He owned her, he owned her clit.  She came when it pleased him.

She groaned, her clit outraged, as she lifted her ass up into the air.  She squirmed up onto her knees, until they were under her, and her ass was high in the air.  Defenseless.  Helpless.  Her body still shuddered from the edge.

She felt more than saw him move behind her.  Then the strap caressed her tender bottom.  She knew what was coming.  

“Ask for it, pet.  A dozen.”

“Sir, please, a dozen with the strap.  Good and hard, Sir.”  She didn’t need to say that last bit.  Wasn’t sure why she did.

“Good girl.”  

Crack.

The pain, the shock, rumbled through her, building and building, until it felt like her eyes would burst from it.  He waited, wanting her to feel each one.

Crack.

Twelve seemed far, far too many.  She cried out, hurting.

Crack-CRACK.

The second one surprised her.  She let out a loud cry, her body shuddering.

“pet, I know it’s not easy.  But you will please me.  Get that bottom up.  Present it to me.”

She had to respond to the edge in his voice.  She had to please him.  Nothing would stop her from that.  She lifted her ass up, arched her back as far as she could.  “Please, Sir…”

Crack.

The buzz slipped in, surprising her.  Relief flooded through her.  She would make it.  She would please him.  Biting her tongue, she enjoyed the wicked and sublime dance of pain through her body.

Crack.

Time blurred around her, the strap hitting her bottom, hurting but not.  All she could think about was arching up for him, pleasing him.

Crack…crack…crack…crack…

“Good girl.”  He stepped next to her, gently eased her on her side, and kissed her.  It was a good, long kiss.  She was in heaven.  He held her there, half-pulling her into his lap.  His hand brushed her hair, and she kissed him again.  For two or three minutes, maybe longer, he whispered sweet, little things into her ear as he held her.  “You are my girl.  I’ve got you.  All of you.  When you are a good girl, and when you’re a bad girl, you’re still all mine.”

“Yes, Sir, you’ve got me,” she whispered back.

Eventually it got uncomfortable, her hands still cuffed behind her back.  She looked up at him, and after another kiss, said, “Sir, I’m ready.”

“That’s my good girl.  Okay, pet.  Hump that floor.”  He eased her back down onto the floor, then moved to sit between her spread legs.  He’d never sat that close to her before, as she humped the floor, one of his knees touching the inside of hers.  

It was as bad as the very first time.  Well, maybe a tiny bit less embarrassing than that time, in an Iceland hotel, him sitting on the couch and calmly ordering her to hump the floor.  She still remembered the pleasant scent of the hotel, the bath towel under her, knowing he was staring at her ass and her pussy.  

He reached out, squeezed her ass cheek.  She gasped, the pain fresh and hot.  Yet her clit liked it.  Thinking of that first time, of her first real spanking, of her pleasing him with her mouth, and yes, of her humping that floor to please him.  To amuse him.  She loved being his toy, for his wicked games.  

“Please, Sir, please may I come?”

He smacked her ass hard.  It hurt.  But it almost put her over the edge.  “No, pet.  Get that bottom up.  You still have two more sessions left with the strap.”

She cried out, rolled on her side, afraid to bring her knees together.  Anything touching her clit would make her come.  She was so close.  And yet so far away.  He gave her a moment, but then lightly smacked the side of her leg.  “Okay, pet.  Get that ass up for me.”

Struggling, she managed to make it back to her knees, her poor, hurting ass high in the air.  “Please, Sir, please give me a dozen more with the strap.”  She wanted to say more, then couldn’t.  Finally, she couldn’t not say it, either.  “Good and hard, Sir.”

He moved next to her, his leg touching her hip.  He rubbed the strap over her ass, then down lower, so it brushed her pussy.  “I think your pussy needs a spanking.  It did drip all over my floor earlier.”  

She groaned.  “Yes, Sir.  Please spank my naughty pussy.”  She knew he was being kind, knew he didn’t think her ass could take two more rounds with the strap.  

The strap bounced lightly off her pussy, tap tap tap.  She spread wider, wanting it.  The taps got gradually harder, until she gasped.  “Okay, pet, ask for a dozen on your pussy.”

“Please, Sir.  Please spank my pussy.”

“Good girl.”

Pop, pop, pop, the strap smacked her pussy.  It was much lighter than the strokes applied to her ass, but it still stung.  Still took her breath away.  

“Twelve, Sir.”  She wondered if she could come that way, maybe with another twelve, a bit harder.

His finger pushed into her owned pussy.  “Damn, pet, you’re wet.  As wet as I’ve ever seen you.  You didn’t enjoy that, did you?”  His tone mocked her.  Yes, she liked that teasing, too.

“Yes, Sir.  I liked it.”  She could feel herself blushing.

He moved in front of her and helped her sit back on her heels.  Her ass touched her ankles, and she popped back up.  He only chuckled.  

Without being told, she sucked and licked his finger.  Her pussy must have been damn wet.  Then he held the strap in front of her, and she kissed it and licked it.  She loved the strap, how it made her feel.  

When he was satisfied, he pointed to the floor.  “Your last edge for the night, pet.  Enjoy it.”

He sat on the couch as she slid back down to her stomach.  She knew she’d be sleeping on her tummy for a few nights, and how much her red ass turned him on.  He’d no doubt mount her a few times, after using his hand to warm her ass back up.  She couldn’t wait for that.

“Spread those legs, my pet.  Get them wide.  Show me that pussy I own.”

“Yes, Sir.”  She moved a little to the left, so he could see everything.  “Sir, may I please hump the floor?  If it pleases you, Sir.”

“It does, pet.  It amuses me.  Hump the floor as you tell me about last weekend.  What fun did I have with my pet?”

Though her pussy was sore from the two previous humpings and the spanking, the floor felt oddly good.  She said, “Friday night, Sir, you took me to dinner.”  Friday night was their ‘date’ night, though just like everything else, their date night wasn’t ‘normal’.  

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Yes, Sir, I did.”

“What was special about it, pet?”

“Um, you spanked me before it, Sir?  And came in my mouth?”

“I do that most Friday nights, don’t I?”

“It’s still special, Sir.”  She smiled as she said it, and he smiled, too.  

“Yes, but something was different.”

“You…you couldn’t find the key to my collar, Sir.  So I had to wear it to dinner.”    She was getting closer, her clit hungry for an orgasm. 

“Were you proud of it?”

“Yes, Sir, very much so.”  It had also been embarrassing, and she felt like everyone in the restaurant had been staring at it and her.  Like everyone of them knew to what extent he owned her.

“What did the waitress say?”

“Sir, she said she liked it.  She touched it with her finger.”

“Did you like that, pet?”

Again, she didn’t want to tell him, but she wouldn’t lie.  “Sir, it was very very embarrassing.  But, yes, Sir, I enjoyed it.  Very much.  It made me feel very owned, and like she knew you owned me.”

“Should we invite her over, let her watch you roll the dice?”

She did not like that idea.  Not at all.  Shook her head no, almost said the word, which would not have been good.  But her clit betrayed her.

“Please, Sir…”. She didn’t even have time to ask him if she could come.  It took everything in her not to come, to roll onto her side, and then her back.  Her ass was much too tender for that, and she lifted her hips off the ground.  Her clit a frustrated mess, she humped the air.  

He chuckled.  

“Part of my pet really likes that idea…”. 

“If it would please you, Sir.”  She hoped he could tell she didn’t want that.  Not at all.  She tried to push the thought away, then whispered to her clit to shut the hell up.  

She opened her eyes, found his as he sat on the couch, watching her hump the air.  

“Who owns you, pet?”

“You do, Sir.”

“Who owns your clit?”

“You do, Sir.”

“Are you happily owned?”

“Very much so, Sir.  I am your very happily owned pet.  All of me.”  That was so true.  She felt like she’d found her place in the world, found a Dom that would tease her and use her, that knew every wicked thought hidden deep inside.  But he also took care of her, gave her all the affection she so needed.  Every few days it felt like he owned even more of her, that she would relax the tiniest bit more into it.  

“That’s right, pet.  I own you.  Now get that bottom up.  The last twelve with the strap, for tonight.”  

She groaned.  They were going to hurt.  “Yes, Sir.”  She forced herself to roll first onto her side, then onto her belly and got her knees under her.  She pushed her ass up high in the air, the skin of her cheeks protesting the entire way.  

The smooth leather of the strap ran across her bottom.  She loved the strap, the leather smell and the way it felt against her skin.   

“Who owns you, pet?”

“You do, Sir.”

Crack.

She gasped, the blood rushing back into her bottom, the pain white hot in her eyes.  She would never make twelve.  And she would never not make twelve; she would not fail him.

“Who owns your clit?  Who decides when you get to touch it?”

“You do, Sir.  You own my clit.”

Crack.

He wasn’t hitting hard, but it wasn’t soft, either.  After the strap last night, and 30 with the paddle, a feather would’ve hurt.  She was already breathing hard, hoping the endorphins would save her.

“When do you come, pet?”

“When you tell me to, Sir.  Only when you tell me to.”  She loved that he owned that.

Crack.

That one was low, on her sit spot.  She bit her tongue as the first tear leaked from her left eye.

“Who decides what panties you will wear every day?”

“You do, Sir.  You decide what touches my clit and pussy, Sir.”

Crack

She cried out.  Oh, it hurt.  More tears flowed.

"Who decides what color you paint your nails?"

"Sir, you do.  Which ever color pleases you."  He picked brighter colors than she ever did before, and one finger on each hand was always a different color than the others, as a symbol that she was owned.  She still blushed when someone asked her about it.

Crack.  

The pain was rolling through her, deeper and deeper.  She was starting to lose herself in it.

"Who decides whether your pussy is shaved or waxed?"

"You do, Sir."  And it was a very bad thing if it wasn't smooth for him.  Not to mention the embarrassment of going for the waxing with a bright red bottom.

Crack.

"Who decides when you eat sweets?"

"Sir, you decide."  She was allowed one small sweet every other day, without having to ask.  Part of her wanted to always have to ask.  To be fed sweets only from his fingers.  Of course, there were no sweets when she was bad.  Bad girls didn't get those, either.  

Crack.

She gasped, her head raising up, her mouth open in a silent cry.

“Who owns your bottom, pet?”

“You do, Sir.  You own all of me."  Her voice was a ragged, hoarse whisper.

Crack

"Who decides what clothes you buy?"

"You do, Sir."  That rule was one of her favorites.  Before, she could never decide which dress she liked, or what shoes looked best with which outfit.  He chose, and told her she looked lovely.  He didn't lie, so she knew she looked good in whatever he picked. She walked around, looking at her nails, looking in the mirror at clothes he picked, feeling owned and cared for, every day.

Crack.

Her tears flowed freely down her face.  How many was that?  She didn’t know.  Was it the last one?  Her ass was on fire.  Roasted from the strap.  A little voice in her head reminder her that she liked this.  

“Who decides when your bottom gets spanked?”  

No, it wasn’t the last one, then.  “You, do Sir.  You spank me when it amuses you.”

Crack

“And when do I put my cock in your ass?  Fuck it?”

“Whenever it pleases you, Sir.  You own my ass, Sir.”

“That’s right, pet.  I own you.”

CRACK.

She cried out, a half moan and a half scream, loud enough that it surprised her.  She was panting now, thinking he was done, but not sure.  

His hand squeezed her ass, one cheek and then the other.  She gasped—it hurt—but it also meant that he was done, that she’d made the twelve.  Her ass was throbbing, the pain filling her mind.  His soft fingertips ran down her spine and into her hair.  

He whispered, “Good girl.”  He lifted her head up and moved her hair out of the way, to kiss the H on the back of her neck.  She turned her head, and he kissed her, a good long kiss.  He said, “Good girl,” again, and it felt like her heart was going to burst.  

That was the end of the soft and caring part.  

He pushed her back onto her knees, and she knew better than to let her ass touch anything.  He stood in front of her and unbuttoned his jeans.  She dared to look up and into his eyes, and saw the hunger there, the want.  That sent a wide pulse from her belly to her clit.  

He pulled his cock out of his boxers.  “Pet, make my cock hard.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Tears still running down her face, she shuffled forward, then gently licked his cock up and down.  She kissed his balls, licking them, feeling their weight.  Her lips planted small kisses up to the tip of his cock.  She circled it with her tongue.  

“Good girl,” he said.

God, she loved hearing those words.  “May I suck on it, Sir?” 

“Yes, pet.”

He was hard now.  She loved having that effect on him, turning him on and making him come.  She was a true submissive; she valued his pleasure and his orgasms far more than her own (and even more so, she loved it when he acted like her needs didn’t matter one bit).  She slid the head of his cock into her mouth, her lips tight around it.  She flicked the underneath of the head with her tongue—his sensitive spot.  He got even harder in her mouth.  She took as much as she could into her mouth, wishing her hands were free so she could stroke him and hold his balls.  

“Good girl.  Get it good and wet.  You know where it’s going next.”

She moaned around his cock.  His hand went into her hair, and he started to grind into her mouth.  She loved his cock in her mouth, the feeling of it growing and getting hard.  The taste of it.  

He was close.  She sucked even harder, but then he pushed her head away.  “Good girl, pet.  That was close.”  She was smiling, a huge smile, because she’d just edged him, for a change.  

“Okay, pet, bottoms up.  Time for you to feel owned.”

She knew what was required.  She put her head to the floor and reached back with her cuffed hands.  Knowing it was going to hurt, she ever so gently took her cheeks into her hands and spread them.  She could feel the heat pulsing off of them.

“Pet, do you want to beg for some lube?”

She nodded.  “Yes, Sir, please may I have some lube?  Pretty please?”

He left the room, leaving her there, and she knew better than to let go of her cheeks.  Plus, it would have made spreading them a second time even worse.  Then he was back, unsnapping the cap.  She felt the cool, slick lube trickle down her crack and across her asshole.

“Sir, would it please you if I lubed up my ass for your cock?”

“Yes, pet.”

Yes, this was the worst, she thought.  Even more humiliating than humping the floor as he watched.  But in truth it wasn’t.  It was tied with all the other humiliating things he had her do, all at maximum humiliation.  And every one showed how completely owned she was.  She let go of one cheek, and used her middle finger to push the lube deep into her ass.  

“pet, fuck your ass for a bit.  Let me watch you get your red bottom ready for me.”

Okay, so there is something beyond max humiliation.  She felt herself blushing as her finger slid in and out.  She liked it and she didn’t.  

“Pet, that’s enough.  It looks like you’re enjoying that way too much.  Ready for my cock?”

“Please, Sir.  Please fuck my ass.  Pretty please, fuck it hard.  Own me Sir.”  Her voice was a ragged mess by the time she finished saying that.  She wanted it.  

He kneeled between her legs.  Like a good sub, she found his cock with her hand and guided to her asshole.  Then the tip was against her.  It never felt like it would fit.

“That’s it, pet.  Push back.  Give yourself to me.”  She blushed again, but there was no stopping her.  She pushed back, and felt the head spread her wide.  She tried to keep breathing—who knew yoga would help with this??—and kept pushing back. The head pushed in, owning her.  Owning her ass.  She gasped.

“Good girl, pet.  I love watching my cock disappear into your ass.  It never looks like it’s going to fit.”

Tell me about it, she thought.  The head in, her hand spread her cheeks wide again, so he could see it even better.  Then she pushed back further, feeling his cock slide into her.  It felt like she would split in half.  

“Keep going pet.  Get it all the way in.  Wiggle that ass, and keep those cheeks spread.”

There was an edge in his voice, a hunger, that she couldn’t resist.  She wiggled her ass for him, and spread her burning cheeks as wide as they’d go.  

“Feeling owned, my pet?”

“Yes, Sir.  So owned.  You own me, Sir.  All of me.”

“Yes, pet.  You are mine.  To use for my pleasure.”

His balls bumped against her pussy, and she knew he was all the way in.  Every time, it felt huge all over again.  Then his hands took her hips and pressed himself even deeper into her.  She gasped as his body pressed into her hands, hurting her cheeks something awful.  

Very slowly, he slid out, then back in.  All the way, hurting her cheeks again.  It was terrible, and she loved it.  Out and in again, a bit quicker.

“Pet, your ass is so tight.  It feels so good.  And to look down, watch my cock slide in and out, I love that.  Your cheeks are so red.  I bet they hurt a bit.”

She wanted to say something smart, but he shoved his hard cock into her faster, and the words slipped out of her mind.  After three or four more strokes, he was going faster and faster.  

“Pet, I’m getting close.  Do you want my come in your ass?”

She groaned.  “Please, Sir, pretty please.  Please come in my ass.  I’m begging you Sir, please give me your come.”

“Good girl.”  His voice was mostly a growl now, and she knew he was close.  She tried to push back against his thrusts, get his cock even deeper into her.  It felt even bigger inside her.

“Pet…” He growled again, loudly, pounding his cock into her ass.

“Yes, Sir, come in me Sir.  Fill my ass up with your come.  Please, Sir.”

He’s coming in my ass.  It was almost enough to push her over the edge.  If anything touched her clit, she’d come like the 4th of July, but she knew she didn’t have permission to come.  He kept pumping, kept coming in her ass, filling her up.  She thrust back with her bottom, wanting it to go on and on, even though it hurt.

Then he was done, collapsing on top of her, his body as sweaty as hers.  He eased her down, onto the floor, them both on their sides, his cock still deep inside her.  He kissed her neck.  She twisted, to get a good kiss.  He gave her one.  His hand trickled down her stomach, and circled her clit.

“Good girl.  I enjoyed using you for my pleasure.”

“Thank you, Sir.  Thank you for coming in my ass.”

His fingertip circled her clit.  She willed it to move closer, even tried to move her hips to help him.  It brushed across her clit once, twice and then a third time.  She was about to explode.  “Sir, please, may I…”

The fingertip disappeared.  “No, pet.  Maybe tomorrow you’ll roll a three.  If you dare to play the game again.”  He pushed the wet fingertip into her mouth.  After she cleaned it off, he turned her head and gave her a good, long kiss.  

“Is your clit frustrated, my pet?”

“Yes, Sir.  Very.”  That was the understatement of the year.

“That’s good.  That amuses me.”  He kissed her again, then whispered in her ear, “You are my pet, to do with as I please.  And I know what my pet craves…”

Part of her hated that, that he knew her so well.  Part of her wanted to come so badly, but another part reveled in the denial, and being his amusement regardless of her wants and needs.  It was an odd mix she didn’t understand.  But he did.

He kissed her ear.  Bit it lightly.  “You are my good girl.  All mine.”

*

Later, after a shower and putting lotion on her bottom, they went to bed.  She was curled on her side, naked, his body surrounding hers.  She could feel his breath on her shoulder, his strong arm around her, protecting her.  Despite the lotion, her bottom still throbbed.  Her clit throbbed right along with it.  His soft cock rested in the crack of her ass.  She should have been jealous of his satisfied cock.  His empty balls.  His peaceful sleep.  But she wasn’t, not at all.  Everything was exactly as it should be.  She wiggled her bottom just a tiny bit, getting closer to him, feeling the deep soreness in her ass.  She would feel it for days.  Would he let her roll the dice again tomorrow night?  She hoped so.  

Even though he was sleeping, she kissed his arm and pulled it tighter around her.  She had found her spot in the world, the spot that fit her so perfectly it was like she’d never been anywhere else.  She had never felt happier, nor more at peace.  Eventually, she fell asleep, still smiling.