Anticipation …

She knelt, blindfolded, naked and alone in the centre of the room. Her knees ached a little as she waited, hands clasped behind her back.

The pain in her knees was tolerable. At least this time he hadn’t told her to kneel on rice. That had been last time. It had been painful and she was proud of her achievement in staying as still as possible.

As she waited in the darkness of the blindfold, she became aware of her heartbeat. It was slightly elevated but steady. It seemed to run from her feet, through her aching knees, up through her chest and slowly throb in her ears. Accompanying the steady beat of her heart, she could hear herself breathing. It was a slow inward breath which she held for a few seconds before releasing it.

In the silence, these sounds and the soft creaks of the house were her only company.

A breeze caressed her, causing her nipples to crinkle into hard points and a soft ripple of goosebumps to slip across her skin, like a wave.

She could not tell how long she waited, it could have been hours or seconds. But she remained in place, knees parted a little, bottom resting on her heels, hands behind her back and blindfold in place. He had told her he would arrive to inspect her soon. That was the only information she needed.

Her ears strained for the sound of his approach and she became aware of how dry her mouth had become. She cautiously licked her lips and tried to lubricate her mouth.

The house released a slow, unsettling loud creaking sound and for a moment she allowed herself to think he had arrived and opened the door. Her bottom lifted slightly off her heels and she lifted her chin proudly„ holding herself there for him for what felt like an eternity. She was almost about to let herself rest when the door handle turned, rattling slightly.

The door swinging open on its old hinges was like a fanfare. She held herself up, trying to ignore the numbing pain in her knees and the burning along her thighs.

The sound of his boots on the wooden floor, growing closer, caused her heart to beat harder until it seemed it would deafen her. Her mouth opened a fraction, her breath escaping a little harder in sharp, hungry little pants.

The footsteps stopped. She couldn’t be sure how far away. He didn’t speak or touch her.

as she knelt there, a thought slipped into her head. What if it wasn’t him? What if it was an intruder? What must she look like…naked, exposed…vulnerable. Just the thought of a stranger in her house, looking at her willing form brought a moist tingle to her loins. She still did not move. Her breath caught in her throat as she listened, her eyes darting wildly under the blindfold. Still she did not move.

Then she heard a voice asking what was this they had found. Another ripple of goosebumps across her pale skin. It was His voice. Another wettened tingle ran through her and still she did not move.

The footsteps resumed. She could feel the faint vibration of his steps through her knees, so he must be close. The footfalls moved around her. She felt a few strands of hair fall onto her forehead, but did not attempt to sweep them away, no matter how much they tickled.

She almost cried out when she felt his fingers on her wrists and then the sensation of rope sliding around them. The knot bit into her skin a little tighter than she expected and she bit back a faint cry. She would not and could not make a sound without his permission.

The ache in her thighs from holding herself up was becoming a scream in of itself. She found the strength from within to keep herself upright and proud for him.

Another rope encircled her ankles and she curled her toes as he bound them tightly. The rope rubbed briskly on her skin as he checked the knots.

Silence returned for another short eternity. She strained to hear him, but did not move. He had ordered it so, and for her, to obey was to exist. Then she felt his fingertips on her shoulders, gently pressing down. She allowed herself to sink slowly, her bottom returning to her heels as he allowed her to rest.

Once more she felt his footsteps through the floorboards and to her right. He walked, confidently, in those boots she so loved, from behind her.

Her mouth was still dry and she dipped her pink little tongue from her mouth to wetten her lips once more.

Her pulse was still ringing in her ears, louder now, almost as loud as his footsteps.

"What a pretty little thing, you are" his voice seemed to come from all around her, deep and rich, commanding.

She said ‘Thank you, Sir’ in her head. She still hadn’t been given permission to speak. She would not be caught out again as she had in the past.

Without warning, pain raced from one nipple to her brain, causing her to close her eyes as a tear escaped. His fingertips, at least she thought it was his fingers, twisted the sensitive flesh sharply. She resisted the urge to cry out.

He worked that teat for only a moment, releasing it to harden to a point as he turned his attention to its partner. Something warm and wet brushed over the other nipple, circling slowly, then being joined by what she thought were teeth.

Her head tipped back by the slighest fraction at his touch, painful but holding all that she craved, her hair stroking the middle of her back.

Then his touch was gone, leaving the wetness on her breast. Where he had touched her felt wet and cold. This did not stop her nipples from remaining hard and erect.

She listened as, somewhere nearby, something metallic clicked and rattled. She longed to hear more, but she knew that to turn her head toward the sound would displease him. It was not an entirely unfamiliar sound but in the gloom of the blindfold she could not quite recognise it.

The breeze returned and she fought to suppress a shiver. she knew she should have ensured the window was fully closed before she began.

The footsteps began again in earnest. Each step was accompanied by a faint metallic rattle and she found herself holding her breath as he moved around her once more. While she could not be certain, she thought he simply walked around her, looking, half a dozen times. Not speaking, before he stopped just in front of her.

She could tell where he was because there was a tiny gap at the bottom of the blindfold where she could see. At that moment, she could see his boots. Black leather, shiny from hours of polishing and care. The slightly pointed toes and stitched patterning. He was right in front of her, close enough to touch if her hands weren’t tightly bound behind her.

The metallic rattle sounded again and then her body tingled as she realised what it was when she heard a soft, sibilant slapping sound. A leather belt, with its heavy buckle, being slipped from the loops of his trousers.

Her eyes rolled back in her head slightly as his hand touched her chin, tipping it upwards. The belt, doubled over she imagined, ran from her forehead, across her cheek and across her throat. As it crossed her lips, she allowed her tongue to dart out and taste it. The leather left her skin and she found herself tensing for its swift return. The blow didn’t come, but his fingers closed tighter on her jawbone. She opened her mouth as he wished.

Slowly, his finger ran across her tongue and she slid it out for him, hoping it would be replaced with another part of his anatomy. Her stomach growled in anticipation. Maybe he would feed her like this, it wasn’t unheard of. Perhaps he would just take her mouth and then cum across her blindfolded face. That wasn’t unusual either. His finger danced lightly on her tongue and then trailed down her neck to her breasts. He lifted each one with his hand, squeezing and molesting her like a piece of meat. Her breath escaped in pants again, her heart thumped in her chest as he examined his property.

He seemed to take some time in toying with her chest. Working on one breast, then the other. She swallowed nervously. It wasn’t unheard of for him to spank her there, although she didn’t enjoy that as much as she let him believe.

The leather of the belt slipped over her hard little nipples, the pink tips aching as they felt it’s passage and could not harden any more.

As his hand returned to her nipple, she felt the toe of his boot between her legs. It pressed coldly on her wet lips, rubbing back and forth slowly. She tried to open herself to him withough moving too much. Her clit picked up her heartbeat and mirrored her nipples, hard and erect. Her sex finally peeled itself open to the attention it was receiving and, although she could not see, she knew that the tip of the boot was smeared with her arousal.

Her breathing, affected by the feeling of his fingers toying with her pink nipples and his boot rubbing at her clit and heated crotch, grew heavier and lost its regularity. She fought with every fibre of her being not to grind down onto that black, shiny leather and throw herself into the climax that she could feel swelling in the pit of her belly.

The tip of the boot stopped moving against her. It was still touching her, she could feel her vulva wrapped around it. He was testing her, seeing if she would rub herself against the leather.

She remained obediently still…and then the touch was gone. She counted his steps as they receded. Then silence returned.

It could have been a lifetime that she waited, silently, wordlessly. Her breath slowed as her body recovered and she listened for him once more.

The silence that pervaded the room seemed to mock her and she began to think he had left once more. Her heart continued to beat in her chest and she squinted into the silk of the blindfold, hoping to see his outline or some clue that he was still there.

After what could have been minutes or days, she began to grow frustrated. Why wouldn’t he touch her? Where had he gone? What was he waiting for?

A low creak issued from the floor to her left. The sound comforted her, although it wasn’t the sound of his boots, it gave her something to listen to. By now, he had normally told her that she could speak or make a sound. She couldn’t even be sure he was still there. The sound of the door closing made her lift up once more, her bottom left her heels and she tipped her head upwards expectantly.

She listened for his footsteps, but still silence owned the room. She felt her brow furrow into a scowl. But still she did not move. She did not speak.

He was her Master, regardless of her frustration and until he gave her permission, she would obey.

Still she remained in position, her bottom lifted as he had taught her, head ready for his touch, breasts jutting out for all to see. As she waited, frustration gave way to a sliver of fear. What if he had left? How long could she stay like this? What would happen if she failed? Her devotion told her…she would stay like this for as long as it took. She would not fail because she loved him and she was doing his will.

A surge of terror ran the length of her spine when she felt two brisk taps on her bottom from what could only be the leather of his belt. In that instant, she knew that the silence had been yet another test. And as the white hot agony and ecstasy of the belts first strike exploded over her buttocks, she knew that she had passed.

As her fears gave way to the blissful agony of the belt crashing over her bare bottom, he told her she could speak.

Her relieved wails of pain and enjoyment burst free as a tear crept from beneath the blindfold…