She is beautiful, bent before me, waiting, her pantaloons spread, her hands holding her cheeks open. Waiting. Waiting for what she knows is coming. I make her wait. Make her think, wonder, moisten. I place the ginger within her sight line and she whimpers a bit. Still, I do nothing more. She will not move, this I know. Once she stood upright while waiting for her discipline. 20 strokes of the cane she endured that night. Plus the fig. Plus a plug inserted until the next morning. Only then did I fuck her. And then it was in her sore and tender ass. Every day for a week. But that had been when she first came to me. No, she will not move now. Nor do I. I sit behind her, enjoying the sight, enjoying my scotch. I see the glistening evidence of her excitement and can't stop the smile from spreading across my cheeks. She is breathing deeply, placing her mind in a place of submission. This pleases me.
I stand and begin. First, with my hand. I warm her skin with firm spanks. She flinches, but maintains her position, her eyes focused on the fig. She moans a bit, a cry sometimes escapes her lips, but she does not move position. I can stand back and view her pinked skin and decide she is ready. I take her hands and place then on the table next to her face. I kiss her neck. Then, I unhook my belt. She hears this and I see her tremble a bit. Good. I like her slight fear of the unknown. I snap my belt and, to her credit, she moves not.
Now it begins. A good woman knows her place and it is beneath her husband's hand, beneath his body, a vessel for his pleasure. I whip the belt across her backside once. She dances a bit and cries out, but her hands do not move. A good man knows how to handle his woman, how to love her, teach her, allows her to be herself, appreciates her intelligence and creativity. He must also do his duty and meet her needs. For Alicia, this includes physical discipline. If I neglect this need, she feels abandoned, alone, unloved. I can't allow that. Ten times the kiss of my leather marks her skin. Her hands are still in place but her eyes are now closed and tears have puddled on the wood beneath her face. I kiss her cheek and tell her I love her. She says nothing for she is forbidden the use of her voice now.
Finally, I take the prepared fig. She sees this and again moves her hands to spread her burning cheeks. I slowly insert the ginger into her anus and she gasps. My cock strains against my trousers. "Hands," I say and she places her hands back on the wood. She squirms now, silent tears puddling beneath her face. I resume my seat and slowly finish my drink. Really, there is no need to rush.
