The happiest gal in the world
The happiest gal in the world
She hangs on the St. Andrew's cross, her body is glistening with perspiration, her breasts a rosy red from the flogging she has just received. Tears are running down her cheeks. She just has to say 'yes' to be untied and taken down from the cross, but she can't utter a single word.
'Buy a sexy dress for a party tomorrow!" The sexy was underlined twice. The second line read: 'I love you, my lovely wench!' Beside the note lay his bank card including the PIN.
That, of course, was a big mistake. Not the 'lovely wench', of course. The bank card. You don't give your bank card to your girlfriend and tell her to go on a shopping spree. That's a big No-No. She knew that and wondered for a moment what he had thought when he had written that note and left the card on the kitchen counter an hour earlier when he had left for work.
But being the good and obedient girl she was she didn't wonder for too long and never questioned the sanity of his order. She made a coffee, sat down, thought about where to go buy a sexy dress and when she had an idea a wide grin crept over her face. Yeah, that would definitely do.
Still grinning and with bouncing steps she exited the tram in the city an hour later and headed straight for the "Agent Provocateur"-shop that had opened not too long ago and whose windows she could never walk past without starting to seriously drool. But to this day she had never entered the store, it was way beyond her financial possibilities.
But today was different. Today she was spending her Master's money, and although she didn't know exactly how much he earned she knew that it was way more than he could reasonably spend and she had no problem helping him to get rid of some of that surplus money.
After half an hour she had tried on three dresses and decided on a black and white short knitted cashmere dress that included detachable suspenders. Knowing how much he liked to see her in garters and stockings she had no inclination to actually detach them but instead thought that she should better get some matching stockings too. Five minutes and sixty Euros later she handed the salesgirl a pair of stockings with a snake design on the back of the legs. They were cute. And sexy as hell.
That was when it ocurred to her that she didn't know what kind of party they were going to. If it was just a party, although a sexy one, she'd have the perfect dress. However, if it was a play party she'd like to show more skin. Not that the dress she had already picked out didn't show a lot of skin, but for a play party it wouldn't do.
The girl got out her cellphone and called her Master, but got only his voice mail. Being a resourceful and clever girl she didn't have to think about a solution for too long. Better safe than sorry, she thought. Better be prepared for everything. Better buy something for either kind of party.
So she said to the girl behind the counter to put the dress and the stockings aside and looked around again. Her eyes fell on a playsuit on a mannequin and she knew she'd have to have that, even if she had to pay it herself. It had a halter neck, the black lacey straps crossing between the breasts, leaving them exposed and running around the belly to the small of the back where they ended without covering the crack of the butt. The panty was held in place by thin satin straps across the belly and buttocks and cut very low. Low enough to expose the top of her pubic mound. It was, to put it in a nutshell, probably the single most erotic garment she had ever seen. If she wore that tonight when her Master got home from work he'd either drop dead of a heart attack or screw her brains out. Or he'd screw her brains out, had her walk up and down in front of him afterwards for a while and screwed her brains to mush again. Yeah. That'd be her favourite order of events.
She paid and left the store, feeling a wee little tiny bit bad about having spent that much money. But she didn't feel bad enough to forget about the shoes. Every human being with the right set of chromosomes knows that you can't buy a dress without the right shoes to go with it, and she was no exception to this rule. Plus she knew just the perfect place to get them.
"Heels'n'Stuff" was also a rather new store, and the shoes they sold didn't betray it's name. She thought of a pair of stilettos with straps right up to her knees, but the salesgirl convinced her that this would work only without stockings. So she bought a pair of black four inch heeled stilettos with a red bow in the back, thinking that a bit of color couldn't do no harm.
Happy, content and not a penny poorer she clutched her bags and drove home with the tram, quite proud of the fact that she had managed to buy outfits not just for one but two parties in less than two hours.
Early in the evening she knelt behind the door, waiting for the arrival of her Master, wearing the playsuit. His favourite dish, a lamb stew in lemon sauce, was simmering on the stove in the kitchen, a polenta slowly getting ready in the heavy cast iron pot, the table was set, a bottle of Amarone uncorked. The toughest decision she had to make was whether she should time the food to be ready when he got home or twenty minutes later, in case he first wanted to have some fun with her. In the end she decided on the latter option, thinking that if he didn't want to fuck her on the spot when he saw her in that dress (which, to be honest, would both be surprising and a bit disappointing) they still could have a glass of spumante until dinner was ready.
Her Master opted for "fuck first, eat later" when he came home. She giggled a little bit when he tried to get her out of the playsuit but couldn't figure out how to open it. In the end he smiled, pushed away the crotch of the panty bottom of the suit and took her on the dining table with the lacy suit still on.
She knew he wouldn't tell her what kind of party they were supposed to attend, but of course that didn't keep her from trying to pry that information from him. In the end, after dinner, after dessert and after they had finished the bottle of Amarone and she was just about to brew coffee, he was fed up with her nagging, stood up, went to the bedroom and came back with a ballgag which he stuffed unceremoniously in her mouth. He knew how much she hated the ball gag, especially the drooling that came with it, and kept teasing her about it while she served him coffee.
The rest of the night was pure bliss for both of them and silence on her part.
Late in the afternoon of the next day they took the train to a town one hour to the west. She still had no clue what would follow. "Pack for a night and wear that dress you bought," was all the information she had gotten. In Solothurn they checked into a hotel, laid down on the bed and kissed and talked for a while before he took her out for a light dinner. She felt quite out of place in the restaurant in her dress and she felt the eyes of the other patrons on her, but she was too curious to find out where they were going to mind too much. She hoped it would be a play party. She had heard of a 800 years old dungeon in this town were legendary kinky parties were held.
He just smiled when she asked whether they were going there. "You'll see, babe. Now finish dinner and let's get going." Back at the hotel he ordered her to wear the playsuit.
He wore an anthracite-colored suit, a black shirt with white pinstripes and a matching tie, she was in her playsuit, neatly covered beneath her coat. They didn't call a taxi, the town was small enough to walk, but she soon cursed her shoes as she staggered over the medieval cobblestones.
"Ugghhh, stupid shoes," she moaned after she had stumbled and would have fallen if it hadn't been for him steadying her.
"But sexy, wench. Very sexy. Just perfect for a hot wench like you."
She smiled at him and wrapped her arm around him again. "I love you, Master."
"I love you too," he replied and kissed her on the top of her head.
They soon arrived at their destination. It was one of the old houses within the city walls, several hundred years old like all the houses in this part of town. Unlike most other houses this one had no shop or restaurant on the ground floor. He pressed one of the call buttons and a couple of seconds later a buzzing indicated that the door had been opened. They entered and he led her down a narrow and steep stair.
She was almost dieing of curiosity by then and when he opened a thick, heavy door and led her into what she immediately recognized as that very eight centuries old dungeon which she had seen on pictures on the net and the eight people looking at them she nearly fainted.
They knew all the people, had met at munches and at a few parties and had celebrated New Years Eve together at their apartment. The girl had very fond memories of that evening. He had whipped her pussy for the first time back then and for the first time she had believed it possible to have an orgasm just from a whipping. Not because she had enjoyed the pain so much, but because she had felt nothing but love as she had laid there, her legs spread wide, looking in his eyes. That feeling of love and all the support and understanding she had felt from these people had almost brought her to a climax. It certainly had been one of the most emotional moments in her life.
They had obviously been waiting for them. The girl tried to put together what was going on here but was too giddy and happy to think a straight thought. In the end she just slipped out of her coat, not a bit worried about her revealing attire because those people had seen her wearing much less before. She followed her Master around, greeting, hugging and kissing everyone.
Much later, after a lot of talking, eating delicious amuse bouches and some playing scenes, her Master led her up to the little stage in the back of the arch.
He tied her to the St. Andrew's cross and teased her breasts and pinched the nipples for a while. He kissed her passionately, holding her by her hair the way he knew she liked it before he went to get the flogger and let the thin leather strands run over her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps on her body.
Then he began to flog her breasts, beginning with a slow rhythm and increasing the pace and intensitiy until she began to moan both from the pain and the pleasure. He stopped, put his hand on her belly, letting it glide slowly further south, underneath the lacey fabric of the playsuits bottom, her finger sliding between her lips.
"I love it when you get wet for me," he whispered in her ear and teased her a bit more until her moans were loud enough to be heard in the whole room. She didn't mind, she had forgotten everything around her, was completely focused on her Master. He went back to flogging her small tits until she bit her lower lip and let out little yelping screams. But then, just when she thought she couldn't stand much more, he did something very strange.
He stopped flogging the girl, his girl, put the little whip away and sank to his knees in front of her. She stared down at him, not knowing what to think and was just about to ask him whether everything was ok when he started to speak.
"As you know I don't say too much if what I want to say can be said with a few words. But before I ask you what I need you to ask I have to tell you that you'll be hanging on this cross until you answered with a loud 'Yes'." He paused and smiled his boyish grin she so loved about him. Then he went on: "Wench, I love you and I know you love me. I want to grow old at your side. I want you to be my wife until I'm too old and too weak to spank your lovely butt." By then the girl had already started to cry and almost missed the last words. "So, my lovely wench, I'm asking you: Do you want to marry me?"
And now the girl hangs on the St. Andrew's cross, her body is glistening with perspiration, the breasts a rosy red from the flogging she has just received. Tears of joy and happiness are running down her cheeks. She just has to say 'yes' to be untied and taken down from the cross, but she can't utter a single word.
PS I: The girl is me and the story is almost entirely non-fiction. And yes, I'm as happy as can be.
PS II: The playsuit
PSIII: I eventually managed to say 'Yes'. Obviously, or I'd still be hanging on that cross. But it was a tough decision, hehehe
