Isolated Obedience

I gather the items you listed, preparing for ritual -- two pillows on the floor, my wand, the paddle, and a silicone dildo.

I hold the wooden paddle for a moment, rubbing my fingertips over the black hearts, admiring the shape of the tool. I breathe it in deeply and run it across my lips. I neatly arrange the items on the bed and kneel humbly on the floor. I keep my panties on for now. The anticipation must grow before touching myself bare. The thin lace panties are my only barrier between temptation and discipline.

My breath slows and deepens. My mind quiets. I only allow thoughts of you. I settle easily into stillness -- focused and comfortable. I roll my shoulders back and adjust my hips. I think of you, your voice and your touch. I imagine the way your eyes bore through my skin and make every cell alert. I remember the way you don't have to speak, the way your eyes lead me. My body slows and surges in a million different ways. I feel my heart pounding in my chest and the calm inhale and exhale of my breath.

This is my place, my earned position, surrendering on my knees to you. Once again, I'm offering you the most sacred parts of myself, trusting you to lead me. I'm giving myself to your ownership. The air around me changes. I sense your presence here with me.

After several minutes, I open my knees wide and reach for the wand. Keeping my panties on, I lightly brush the wand against my clit -- just for a moment, assessing the sensation.

I go again, but now I hold it there and feel my back arch and twist with the pleasure. I stop. I repeat. Again. Again. And again.

Each time the urge is more insistent. My desire deepens with each ounce of pleasure I allow myself. But I don't indulge; I only give myself enough to feel the wave begin to build, but not to crash. The thought of giving in crosses my mind, and I push it aside and remember the rules. Every time, it's getting harder to restrain myself, but my obedience doesn't allow me to go further.

That's what good girls do.

I reach two fingers into my panties and between my legs, feeling the puddle. I'm already answering to you. My body is responding to your control, even from afar. The thought of being yours awakens my body. I wish you could feel it, too. I want you in it, enjoying how complete my surrender is.

I stand and remove my panties, leaving them soaking on the carpet. They are proof of my submission. I lie back, slowly stroking circles around my clit with one finger. I spiral my circles larger until the wetness has spread from thigh to thigh. I play with the pressure, pushing slowly and deeply into each spot of pleasure, exploring myself intentionally for you. I focus on the sensations and keep my breathing even. My fingers slide from the source of my wetness to the swollen clit above -- up and down, slow but getting faster. I feel the texture of my folds, covered in my delicious juices. Soaking wet just for you.

I notice the contractions and feel my muscles tighten and pulse. I keep my body controlled, but I'm trembling just below the surface.

I have to stop. I remember to breathe. I'll wait.

He's going to be so proud.

I bring a taste of myself to my lips, and it remind me of when you alternate between kissing my lips and my clit. I love tasting myself on your breath.

I touch my nipples and move my hands to each breast. I massage, lightly squeeze, then pinch my nipples. I imagine you leaving marks on me like I always hope you do. I want to wear your approval on my skin. I am craving you, but for now, the wand will have to be you.

The vibrations graze my clit for only a moment. I'm building my tension then breaking it again. The way that you do, never giving me too much. Teaching me patience. Demanding my discipline. Offering you my devotion.

My phone vibrates on the bed beside me. It's a text from you: "Good Girl."

I can hear those words whispered directly into my ear, your breath hot but giving me chills. Just reading those words on my phone elevate my arousal and I know it won't be long before I finally give in and let the wave crash.

I kneel again, leaning my head against my bed, but in my mind it's your thigh -- strong and safe. I can feel you close to me. As I kneel, straddling the pillows, I fall deeper into obedience.

I hold the wand firmly between my legs, careful not to lean into it too closely, at least not yet. I want to maintain my composure as long as possible, but I can feel my restraint slipping away. My hips betray me and begin to move, involuntarily, rolling in desperate circles. You're in control, pulling my strings like a marionette. Through my fantasy, you are directing my pleasure. My imagination is only a tool you're using to command me. For a moment, the wand presses deeper into me and I hold it there, allowing myself to embrace this wave of pleasure. I gasp.

My phone buzzes again. Your message, "give me what's mine." I know exactly what you mean by that.

I obey.

Over my moans and gasps, I imagine your voice over me, coaxing me to release every last bit of pleasure. Commanding me to give it all to you. I hear you showering me with your praise and adoration. My eyes squeeze shut and there you are -- your dark eyes staring into me. I feel you all around me, everywhere. It's a flood of surrender.

Your voice echoes through my mind, resounding from my memory to this reality. "And when are we done?" you ask.

"Whenever you say, Sir." I say it aloud. I can picture the look of approval and adoration you give me when I respond like that.

My orgasm pushes onward and I allow it to overflow. The waves of pleasure continue to plummet over my body. I pant and lean into the wand, noticing how intense the sensation is. You're here with me, carrying me through the climax of my indulgence. I tremble as the final wave crashes over me. I gasp to catch my breath.

And it was so, so worth the wait.