The Yearning

by Margaret Jane

 

“But I need you now.”

“You’ll see me in less than a fortnight.”

“But the humour is on me now.”

He laughed. “I’m sorry Pet, but you know there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll see you soon.”

She started to wheedle “Oh please, just get on a flight.”

“Maggie, stop this now.” His voice became stern. “You’re being silly and if you don’t stop I’ll have to punish you for it when we do see each other.”

“Chance would be a fine thing.” She sounded sulky.

“Right, that’s enough. Are you going to snap out of this?” He sounded annoyed now and she knew she’d pushed him just a bit too far.

She said nothing. Silence always provoked him.

“Maggie, answer me now.” Silence.

“Where are you sitting?” he asked. She knew better than to fail to answer this time.

“The back window.”

“Stand up.” It was almost as if the obedience was a reflex. She stood up and heard him hurrumph at the other end of the line.

“Keep the phone in your hand. Spread your legs and bend over from the waist.” She swallowed audibly but did as he instructed. She knew he would know if she was faking it.

When she had swivelled from the hips he spoke again, “Petulance Maggie?” She said nothing.

“Would you say I tolerated petulance, as a general rule?”

“No Sir.” she replied softly.

“And not only petulance but back chat, almost bordering on insubordination. Would you say that was acceptable behaviour?”

“No, Sir.”

She could picture him nodding his head “No Sir, it’s always a bit too late when you address me as Sir, isn’t it Maggie?” She bit her lip.

“You’re going to stay bent over like that for a little while Maggie. Now, what knickers are you wearing?

“The purple shorts.”

“Pardon, did you use the proper form of address there?”

“The purple shorts, Sir.”

“Better. Keep the phone to your ear. Put your other hand inside your purple shorts and put your finger directly onto your clitoris.” He heard her gulp and pictured her doing what she was told.

“Got it there?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, now don’t move it, just keep it right on the money.” She could hear the laughter in his voice but knew him too well to think that would last.

“Your behaviour over the past couple of days has left a lot to be desired, hasn’t it?”

She nodded her head and then remembered she needed volume “Yes, Sir.”

“I don’t like whining Maggie. I don’t like emotional blackmail either. I think both need to be punished and quite severely at that. Would you agree?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hmm, you will not orgasm for the next two weeks. I want you begging for release by the time I get there. It will do you good and allow you to recognise a different sort of discipline for a change. Nearer my arrival I’ll have some other instructions for you. Are you still bent over?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. You’ve been very badly behaved. It’s perfectly obvious you need taking in hand and I intend to be very severe with you Maggie, but then I’ve a feeling that’s exactly what you’re after?”

She moistened her lips and said nothing.

“Just as I thought. How’s your clitoris?”

“Swollen Sir.”

“Nice and hard is it? Jutting out?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And it’s going to stay that way for two weeks. Each night when we speak you’ll spend the last five minutes bent over with your finger exactly where it is now. You will not come. Do you understand?”

“I do, Sir.”

“Off to bed with you then, you obstreperous girl.”

In bed that night Maggie wanted nothing more than a rippling orgasm, but having provoked him until he issued the instruction she knew she had to play her part. Two weeks was a long time but she was interested to see if she could do it. She’d be panting for him by then.

A few nights later Maggie was struggling with her own desires and asked him to relent. He was unwavering. “No, young lady. You will remain unsatisfied and you should know better than to ask. If you ask again I’ll view is as gross insubordination and I’ll take the horse whip to you. Understand?”

“Oh God, I’m sorry Sir. Please don’t use that on me. I won’t ask again.”

“See that you don’t.”

By the end of the first week Maggie was cursing her hormones, her life, her work, her friends. Anything that she could possibly blame for her predicament. Her nightly bent over sessions were a torture to her, especially as he was taking delight in talking her up to fever pitch and then leaving her hanging. She wanted him badly, she wanted to be over his knee with her skirt hiked up and her knickers down. She wanted to be bent over the arm of the sofa with her arse in the air. She wanted to be bent double and hear the swish of the cane as he drove it into her backside. Her fantasies consumed her. She was constantly wet and so distracted at work that she knew she’d be in trouble there too if she didn’t concentrate.

Two nights before he was due to arrive he told her what to expect.

“I’ll text you when I’m on the way from the airport. You’re to wear your long black skirt but no knickers and be bent over the back of the sofa facing away from the door. Have the leather and wooden paddles and the cane ready for me. Don’t plan on sitting down for the rest of the evening. Oh and have the champagne in the fridge.”

Now that reality was setting in as usual she started to feel nervous and tried to back track.

“Sir, the humour isn’t on me so much any more.”

“Too bad Maggie, you’ve asked for this and you’re damn well gonna get it. And don’t play the coy little girl with me, I’ll have you dripping wet and begging for the fucking of your life by the time I’ve dealt with your arse. And if you’re a good girl, you never know, I might just oblige.”

Maggie watched the internet all day that Friday. She watched his flight boarding and then departing and then its scheduled arrival. She rushed home from work, bunged the casserole in the oven, put the champagne flutes in the freezer. She pulled the curtains, got the implements of her punishment out and laid them ready for him. She had a quick shower and got dressed exactly as he had instructed. She was now in such a state of over excitement she thought she would either laugh or cry at the slightest thing. Her backside twitched, it knew what was coming. Her thighs were reflexively pressing together and then relaxing. His text arrived. He’d be here at any moment.

Maggie unlocked the front door and positioned herself over the sofa. She stretched out, luxuriating in her submissive posture. Her backside was hoisted into the air, her arms were out in front of her and her legs crossed at the ankles allowing her to rest on the tips of her toes and flex her calf muscles.

She heard the front door open and close and then the living room door open too. He was behind her. She heard him deposit his bag. Her whole body tensed. There was nothing relaxed about her now. She knew she was about to receive a severe thrashing, had indeed deliberately provoked him to it. Her breathing became shallow as she waited, face pressed into the cushion. She knew better than to look round.

“So, what have we here?” he began silkily. “I do believe it’s a disobedient, sulky little girl, desperately in need of correction.” Her heart beat faster. Her clitoris was already beginning to throb. She could feel its insistence.

Without warning his hand smacked down on her left buttock. She yelped in surprise, not pain.

“Tut tut, too early to be making noise Maggie. Save that for later. Now let me see if you’ve followed my instructions.”

She felt him lift her skirt over her back. She knew his gaze was intense on her bare buttocks.

He slapped the leather paddle on her left cheek. It stung but she knew he was just warming her up as it had the capacity to hurt a lot more. He delivered half a dozen rapid blows that left her squirming but again not in any real pain.

“Regretting it yet?” he asked.

“Not quite, Sir.” she replied.

He placed the leather paddle right in front of her on the sofa.

“We’ll have to rectify that at once.” he said menacingly. Her blood chilled and she knew what was coming.

The cane swished through the air and this time she did squeal.

“Count them out loud,” came the command.

“One!” she gasped.

He gave her a dozen blows, each calculated to make her regret her provocation. Her fingers dug into the cushions, her legs were curling backwards of their own volition. He stopped and tapped the cane against her backside.

“Regretting it yet?”

“Yes, Sir.” this time it was on the verge of a sob.

“I don’t believe you Maggie. I don’t hear the contrition. I’m not convinced of the submission, so we’ll continue until I am sure.”

He grasped her firmly by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

Sitting on the sofa he pulled her over his lap and laid the wooden paddle on her burning backside. The wood was cool, but she knew that wouldn’t last.

“Our relationship only works if we both stick to the rules Maggie. You broke the rules and you’re being punished for your infraction.”

As he applied the wooden paddle to her already sore arse she grasped his trouser leg and the curled her hands around his calf. The pain was building and each smack intensified her discomfort. Begging had never worked before and she knew it wouldn’t now. All she could do was wriggle and squirm. She was panting for breath. Losing count of the number of blows, she felt at last the melting of true submission. He felt it in her too and continued with another half dozen swift, harsh swats, just to confirm his control of the situation. Then he stopped and she went limp over his knee. But it was never that simple.

“Stand up, Maggie.” She hoisted herself up and stood before him.

“Take your clothes off.” She hung her head and glanced at him from beneath her fringe. Her eyes pleaded for leniency but there was to be none on this occasion.

“Now, please.”

Slowly, she discarded her clothes until she stood before him, naked. He had settled himself comfortably on the sofa and regarded her. “Turn round.” She turned to show him her backside. She heard the involuntary sigh of approval and the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. She had pleased him.

“Bend over.” This surprised her but she did what she was told. Presented as she was she had no secrets from him.

“Put your finger on your clitoris” She blushed deeply. It was not easy to keep her finger on her clitoris, it was so swollen. “Stay there.” he commanded and left the room.

She heard him in the kitchen and then the unmistakeable pop of a champagne cork.

He returned and settled himself on the sofa again, all the time her finger rested on her clitoris but she didn’t dare move it further.

“Straighten up, turn round and kneel down in front of me with your knees wide apart.”

Maggie thought it would be impossible for her to be any wetter, she felt weak at the knees and submission encompassed her totally.

She displayed herself as he had commanded. He handed her a glass of champagne. The chill of the glass shocked her and she had to grasp it firmly to stop it from slipping.

“Now, much as I enjoyed punishing you Maggie, I don’t want to have to do it again for petulant behaviour. Your next bout of petulance will earn you a horse whipping no matter how much you plead. Do you understand?”

She nodded her head. “You can sip your champagne.” It tasted better than anything she’d ever drunk.

Leaning forward he slipped a finger inside her. Very, very lightly he circled her clitoris and she made a noise at the back of her throat that told him of her two weeks of suffering. He smiled.

“You’re my good obedient girl, aren’t you Maggie?”

“Oh yes, Sir.”

“Why don’t you come here and show me just how good and how obedient you really are.” He removed his hand and settled back again. He was going to make her work for it.

She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. He was as hard as she was wet. She crawled onto his lap and positioned herself slowly over him. Placing her arms around his neck she kissed him and began to work herself on his shaft. It didn’t take long. The shattering orgasm took over her whole body and she clung to him as he squeezed her arse and came himself. She sagged forward, limp in his arms and he cradled her to him. Eventually she lifted herself off him. He laid her back on the sofa and regarded her fondly.

“Just so you know who the Master really is……” She felt him part her lower lips and insert something there, it was the champagne cork. He closed her sex tightly. “You’ll keep that there this whole weekend Maggie.” he said, kissing her softly. “I want you in utter obedience to my will.”

“Sir” she murmured “Your wish is my command” and naked, she padded to the kitchen to fetch him more champagne.