She is cleaning the house, her wavy black hair glistening in the early morning sunlight which filters through the curtains. “Ding Dong,” the doorbell rings. Turning off the vacuum, she strolls to the door and reaches for the knob. Then she hesitates turns around, hesitates again. She can’t answer the door like this. He ordered her to stay nude today, she would just die. “DING DONG” the bell again, insistent. She turns away, deciding to let who ever go away. But no, what if He is testing her. Reluctantly, she opens the door and peeks around it, trying to stay hidden behind.

The floral delivery man looks at her as if he can see right thru the door and says, “I have flowers for you Ma’am.”

“Oh,” she thinks, “He has not sent me flowers in a long time.”
She giggles inside and without thinking, swings the door wide open and reaches with both arms. The flower man freezes, staring at her breasts as they dangle. Flowers in hand, she begins to close the door.

“Excuse me, Ma’am; you need to sign for them.”

“Of course, silly me,” she replies. Cradling the box in her left arm, she reaches for the pen. Flushed, he tries to look away, only to end up admiring the completely shaved pubic region. She finishes, hands the pen back and calmly closes the door. He stands dumbstruck, wondering if anyone would believe him.

She begins humming and waltzes to the kitchen. Dropping the box lid on the floor, she jumps up and down excitedly for inside are 3 dozen long stem dark red roses.
She rummages for the card:


I love you even more today
Happy Anniversary
My lil-lovely.


She thinks to herself, “One dozen for each year of wearing His collar! He REMEMBERED!”

She practically walks on air as she gets out their largest vase, then starts lifting the roses. “Ouch!” She drops them back into their box and sucks on her finger. Then thinking, “oh dear it would never do to let Master prick himself” she gets out a knife and carefully trims the thorns off of each long stem before arranging it in the vase.

Finished, she starts to sweep up the thorns as a big smile crosses her face. She retrieves the leather flogger from their playroom. The one with many wide straps at the end, and starts poking holes along the length of each. She skips happily to the junk drawer and retrieves the super glue. Grinning at the thought, “Master will so enjoy using this,”
She carefully pushes a thorn through each hole and glues it in place. Then she sets the flogger on the kitchen counter and breezily finishes her cleaning. Resting, she stands by the counter, her fingers idly feeling the tips of the thorns as she imagines the sweet pain they will give. Mentally running through her checklist of chores, she checks them all off. Nothing left but cooking dinner.

She plans it carefully, wanting the meal to especially please him. “Medallions of mignon (just rare of medium rare), asparagus in Hollandaise sauce, mushroom caps with touch of garlic. Potatoes...hmm twice backed, yes I have time. Oh tossed salad, rolls as well” Running about in the kitchen, preparing it all. As she cooks she thinks of the delicious evening they will have and sweet nectar runs down the insides of her thighs. With the potatoes finally in the oven for the second time, she begins to set the table, pausing frequently to pull on her nipples that have been hard since she opened the flowers. Plates, napkins, silver, salt, pepper, candles, icy water glasses, wine glasses. After opening a bottle of their best cabernet, she pauses to survey. “Yes, perfect tonight will be so special.”

Adding a couple of candles, lighting them. Then distracted, she pauses to finger her wet pussy. Stopping quickly; “Ooh Master would not like me doing that!” Looking at the clock, she thinks: “Yes, time to start placing food on the table.” She carefully arranges everything just so. The table becomes a visual feast to match the culinary delights. Right on time, she hears the car running up the driveway.

Scurrying to the door, hips swaying and breasts swinging from side to side, she grabs her leash on the way. Then clipping leash to collar, she kneels and holds her hands above her head, the end of the leash lying across them and waits happily.

He enters, takes the leash and starts walking toward the kitchen, she follows, crawling. “Dinner smells mighty fine tonight my lil-lovely. Oh I see you got my present. I trust you did not get dressed to receive it?”

“No Sir, of course not”

He pats her head saying, “Good girl!” At the same time, he picks up a rose to smell it. Then looks quizzically, “What! What happened to these roses! They have no thorns!” A rose without thorns is useless, ugly!!!” Grabbing the whole bundle from the vase, he tears the petals off, strewing them across the floor. “Useless!” He flings the bundle of stems under the window.

Cowering, she has already lowered her head to the floor amid the rose petals. Unthinking, he grabs the flogger from the table and begins her punishment. She, realizing he has taken the gift that she had wanted to so proudly present, starts sobbing hysterically. He, thinking she is only trying to escape punishment flogs harder. Each stroke leaves tiny lines of red dots where the thorns broke through her skin. In her anguish, she does not feel the lashes bite into her back and thighs so continues sobbing. In his anger, he fails to notice the red drops be speckling her back.

Finally, the pain breaks through to her senses and she stops sobbing. She now quiet delights in the pain. He pauses mid-stroke stunned by the abrupt silence and looks down and finally sees the tiny drops of blood across her back and down her thighs. Inspecting the end of the flogger, he drops it, kneels in front of her, lifts her head and tenderly kisses her. “My dear, dear lil-lovely, it is wonderful. Thank you. I misunderstood.”

Ripping his clothes off, he takes her from behind. Thrusting into her again and again. Her hips push back against him matching his passion thrust for thrust. His penis banging hard against her cervix, her breasts flopping forward and back, the nipples fully distended. When at last he feels her spasms, his balls respond by spraying his seed deep inside of her. Still not sated, he turns her over and they make love in the bed of rose petals. Over and over, in every position imaginable, until both exhausted fall asleep where they lay. The scent of roses fills their dreams of each other, of their wildly making love.

In the middle of the night, he wakes and tenderly carries her to bed. Laying her on her stomach, he washes her back and lovingly tends her wounds. Spreading cream to lessen the pain and antibiotic to aid healing. Kissing her again, he lies beside her and pulls covers over them both.

She wakes in the early morning, the pain from the previous night only a joyful ache now, a glorious reminder of their wild passion. She slides a red barrette into her hair and throws the black satin shawl across her shoulders. The sun, just rising, fills the house with the soft yellow orange glow of dawn. Walking into the kitchen, she inhales the scent of roses from the petals still scattered through out the room. Her heart pounding with the remembrance of the evening of passion, she chuckles at the candles burned to nothing and food still sitting, untouched. Moving to the window, she stoops and picks up the bundle of stems amazed at the chain of events which led to such fantastic pain and pleasure last night. The she notices, buried deep in the middle; a single lovely rose has survived his tirade. Taking this as sign of their enduring love she takes the lone rose, lifts her head in joyful gratitude and inhales. All the while, her hand kneading her breast as she remembers..


Unknown - 16 years, 5 months, 8 days ago