X Rated Reads Free Stories

I'd pulled into this particular parking space several dozen times, so you could say I knew it well.

And I knew the emotions that went with it. Disconnecting from my job, my life - emptying my pockets into the console - and getting myself into the right mindset. The mindset where I belonged, where I craved to be as often as feasible - where I was Hers.

What has happened when I've walked through that door has taken so many forms, once I make that transition. She's so creative and able to blend Her desires with my needs...that I'm never sure what awaits me. A playful paddling over her lap...some time at the sink with that awful soap...being invaded by any number of her varied and devious toys...or some harsher punishment for something I haven't actually done wrong, but that I need and deserve.

As She says, no matter that I'm a good pet to her, I'm always a bad boy inside. Always have been, always will be.

But today's entrance into the parking spot and walk to Her door are different. It's because of the conversation we'd had recently, stewing in my mind until the time was right. Today was that time.

We were talking about the nature of "real punishment." The reason didn't matter, it wasn't about the why. It was about the how.

I always counted on a warm smile and hug and kiss and a walk upstairs holding hands. That same hand to squeeze, when things got intense. A mirror to see Her eyes in, to comfort me, when I didn't think I could survive any more at the sink.

None of those would be present today. It had spun off my comment about the kind of words used during "real punishment."

"Few or none," was Her curt reply.

Those few words embodied the condition of my shaking hands and nervous stomach as I walked up to Her door.

The door was slightly ajar, with a small sticky note above the knob. "Come in."

As I stepped inside, closed and locked the door, She was nowhere in sight.

On the stairs, my collar and a note. "To the bathroom with you."

My heart was racing so fast, yet out of instinct I stripped and put on my collar and the tag that said "Mine," pausing to take a few settling breaths before going upstairs. Eeerie - not a sound in Her place, not a glimpse of Her. The solitude was overwhelming.

Walking shakily into her bathroom I saw my bar of soap soaking in a glass of water. By it's condition, all slimy and yucky, it had clearly been there some time in warm water. Next to it...an empty glass. And two more notes, in the silence. Her "none or few" words.

On the note in front of the soap:

"Wash your mouth out worse than I have done it. Worse than I have ever dreamed of doing it. No rinsing. The bite deep into the soap and leave it in your mouth."

On the note in front of the glass, clearly not meant to be used for rinsing:

"Then leave your nasty cum in this glass, before coming to My bedroom to be punished."

I looked in the mirror, hoping to catch even a shadow of Her to comfort me.

Nothing.

I did as I was told. It was AWFUL. More than awful. She knows I truly HATE the soap. And I made it be worse than ever.

And it didn't arouse me at all. I was too scared of what was still to come at this intensity and in this silence. But I started to stroke...using a little soap for lube...and using my fingers to pinch my nipples just enough to get some intnesity going to my cock. And it worked. And I came into Her glass. Hard.

But walking into Her bedroom, soap in my mouth and deep in my teeth, was nothing like ever before.

Her bed, still made.

Her hairbrush, lying near the end of the bed.

A note near the middle of the bed: "Kneel on all fours on the bed, hands here."

And I did.

And I waited.