She is late. He opens the door and turns his back to her, walking to the couch and sitting. He says nothing.

Hesitantly, she closes the door, drops her purse and walks towards him.

"Stop."

She stops, biting he lower lip. He is displeased with her. And he will not let it go unpunished. She has been late too often. And now he has to teach her the value of promptness.

"Take off your dress."

Relieved to have something to do, she quickly starts on the buttons of her dress.

"Slowly."

She fights to control her trembling fingers, fumbling with the buttons.

"Look at me while you undress."

She takes a deep breath, finishes with the buttons and slides the dress off her shoulders, then slowly down over her hips.

"Come towards me." She walks towards him, watching his face as he takes in her white lace demi-bra and matching thong, the lace-top thigh highs encasing her legs, the black heels that lace up to her knee. Though he tries to hide it, he is very pleased with what he sees and it warms her.

She is standing in front of him.

"Remove your bra...slowly."

She reaches up and pulls the straps slowly over her shoulders, arching her back to present her breasts to him. Then she reaches back and unhooks the bra, letting it cling momentarily to her breasts before sliding over her hard nipples and letting it fall.

She starts to move forward but his expression stops her.

"Now your thong...pull it down slowly."

She slides her thumbs inside the waistband and slowly eases it down till it clears her clean-shaven pubic area.

"Stop. Turn around."

She complies.

"Now continue, pushing it all the way to your ankles, keeping your knees straight."

She complies, knowing that as she bends, he can see her arousal.

She starts to step out of them and his voice stops her.

"Did I tell you to do that?"

Her head down around her knees, her hands now tangled in the elastic of her thong, she murmurs, "No...?"

In an instant, he is behind her, his hand cracking across her exposed ass. "No," he say, no hint of anger in his voice, just the coldness of command.

She bites her lower lip again, feeling the heat of the slap glow on her skin.

"I'm sorry...."

Another slap. "I did not require you to answer."

Her knees begin to tremble from the awkward position but he seems to take no notice.

His hand slides down over her ass, gently caressing her as he delves between her legs to the slick wetness there.

"Do you want me?" he asked, his voice low and soft.

"Yes," she whispered, "oh yes." She knew he wanted to hear her say that, all men wanted that ego boost.

Again he slapped her ass...harder this time, eliciting a startled yelp from her and nearly knocking her to her knees.

"It is not about what you want," he said in the cool voice of command again. "It's about what I tell you to do, about what I choose to allow you to have. If you are good, you are rewarded. If you are bad, you are punished."

She swallowed hard. "But...."

Crack! The sting of that blow brought tears to her eyes.

"Go to the chair," he commanded her.

She started to step out of her thong but again his hand bruised her ass.

"Did I say to remove them?"

"No," she gulped, "sir." She hobbled awkwardly toward the stuffed chair next to the couch.

"Sit."

She sat.

He pulled her wrists together over her head and bound them. Then he bound her ankles to her thighs, running a rope around the chair under her knees, pulling her legs up and open.

She looked at him uncertainly.

He blindfolded her then checked the ropes to make sure she could not move.

She hesitated, then asked "What...?"

Before she could finish the question, he had forced a ball gag into her mouth and secured it behind her head.

Mute, blind, helpless, exposed...she could only imagine what would come next...and it terrified her.

A feather, soft and light, traced her thighs. She stiffened and quivered, a soft moan escaping past the gag.

Then...nothing. She strained to hear...nothing.

Then suddenly, cold! Ice between her legs, invading her, the frigid water dripping down to her ass. She pulled against the restraints, flailed her head back and forth to no avail.

Then lips and a tongue, incredibly warm after the ice.

Then a sharp slap on her ass.

Then lips and a tongue on her nipples, sucking and nibbling as the ice assaulted her again.

Then a feather against her cheek, tongue licking her clit.

On and on it went, making her writhe and moan, scream and cry, pleasure and pain alternating, driving her mad with passion, helpless in the ropes.

And then...nothing again.

For a very long time.

Her muscles tensed and quivered, anticipating the next touch or slap, the next lick of ice. But it did not come. Slowly she understood and relaxed, waiting patiently despite her incredible need for him, for release.

And then he was between her legs again, his mouth on her clit, his fingers probing inside her, driving her over the edge with pleasure, letting her shudder and heave against the ropes.

But he did not take his own pleasure...not yet.

He left her there...waiting...wanting. Until he brought her to climax again. And again. Until she could only lie in the chair moaning and shuddering, unable to think or move.

Then, he unbound her, carried her to the bedroom, massaged her cramped muscles, and lay down beside her.

"May I speak?" she asked.

"You may," he said, his voice warm with affection and heavy with need.

"Was that...a punishment?"

He laughed, deep and rich. "If you enjoyed it, it could not have been a punishment. No, it was what I wanted. And, in a way, it was a threat."

She dared not speak, simply quirked an eyebrow to ask how it was a threat.

"Because," he said, "now you know what you can't have if you displease me."

Her eyes opened wide.

"Now come," he said, his hand cradling the back of her head, "show how you can please me with your mouth." "Yes, sir," she murmured, wanting so much to please him. "If that is what you want."

"It is," he said, stroking her hair. "It is."