Awards (Part 1)
by Katherine Asteria

Drawing the key from the lock, I stepped through the door to our apartment, the click-clack of my Louboutin stilettos dull against the hardwood boards of the hallway as I shimmied into the darkness. He followed, brutishly closing the door as a low growl brewed up from his belly into his throat.

We were returning home from an award ceremony - his award ceremony.

He had given explicit instructions before the day: how I was to wear my hair, the colour of my manicure, the lipstick, the perfume, he had picked the lingerie, the dress, the shoes and I was to be ready for seven p.m. sharp - prepared accordingly.

I mostly did as told, I was dressed and ready on time, but instead of wearing the dress he selected - an elegant black, satin, floor-length, pleated empire cut gown. I chose to wear one I knew he loved to see me in, although, perhaps not for an occasion such as this. Short-sleeved, princess cut, with a deep v neck, clinched at my waist, in a deep maroon red, the satin hugs my curves, perfectly lining my ample hips and the deep v frames my décolletage, drawing the eye. I knew it would make his temperature rise.

He caught up to me in the darkness, grabbing hold of my arm just above the elbow, fingers digging in hard and pulling my body against his. I could feel the damp heat of his breath against my cheek as he growled.

'Kitchen. Now.'

I swallowed, barely able to breath as I feigned my protest.

'Oh come on! I...'

'I said now. You know how I want you.'

He released his grip on my arm and flicked the light switch, momentarily blinding me and revealing the stern look in his eyes.

I lowered my head and turned towards the kitchen.

There is a corner in this room, beside the window, my corner, a corner especially for punishment and reflection.

I placed myself in that corner, dressed in all my finery, face to the walls, arms crossed behind my back, in the dark, with the chill from the window prickling at my skin.

And I stood, back straight, arms crossed, the balls of my feet aching in their stilettos for a seemingly never-ending period of time while my mind played out the events of the evening.

I was ready on time, I stood within the foyer of our apartment complex, waiting for the car he had sent to arrive. I caught a glimpse of myself reflected in the glass doors, this dress was a little risqué - sure to draw not just his attention, but others too. A little pang of doubt and regret shot through me, but it was too late now. There was no time to change, I had chosen to go against his requests, flamboyantly so and I would have to suffer the consequences.

As the silver Mercedes S-Class pulled up outside I felt the muscles of my lower abdomen tighten in a cocktail of anticipation, nerves and arousal.

I stepped outside into the crisp autumn air and then through the open door of the car - sliding myself onto the backseat, the mixed scent of leather and bergamot filled my nostrils as the driver shut the door behind me.

Upon arrival my chaperone guided me inside, signing us in at the reception and ushered me into the main hall, relaying our table number to me as we stepped through the doors. Tables were spread out across the floor in front of a stage dressed in deep red velvet curtains, the room was dimly lit in red and gold. The chairs and tables decorated in black cotton cloth and gold organza tie-backs, in the centre of each table was placed an ornate golden candelabra, with black candles. The main source of the lighting was coming from above the stage, leaving most of the hall atmospherically lit in flickering candlelight.

Beethoven's Symphony no.7 played just loud enough to allow for conversation and many people were either seated at their tables or in small groups at the open bar.

I couldn't help but notice how muted everyone else's dress was, shades of black, teal, navy, and emerald green, all elegantly dressed of course, but no colours as bold as my maroon. I certainly stood out. I searched the room for familiar faces and found a number of people looking towards me, I felt exposed, a flush of embarrassment spreading up from my chest, undoubtedly causing me to blush, which I hoped the warm lighting would conceal.

I turned to ask my chaperone to grab me a drink but standing before me was my Sir, eyes fiercely fixed on mine, my stomach flipped and I pressed my thighs together and straightened my back. He held a flute of champagne in each hand and as I reached for one he pulled it to his chest, then leant down towards my ear.

'I see you chose to go against my choice of dress, and look, you're blushing. Do you feel a little out of place, kitten?' He smirked.

He discarded our drinks on a nearby table and grasped my wrist.


Pulling me close beside him, he released my wrist and pushed me forward with his hand on my hip. We headed towards the stage and for a moment the thought that maybe he would be making a show of me up there under the florescent lighting crossed my mind causing my lower abdomen to pulse in a mixture of nerves and arousal. But instead he guided me towards a door to the side, almost completely hidden in darkness.

As he pushed me through, in contrast we found ourselves in a brightly lit, magnolia coloured hallway, doors lined the walls. He gripped my biceps and spun me around, pinning me hard against the door as it closed. The continuation of Beethoven's Symphony and conversation behind it just faintly breaking the stark quiet surrounding us.

'You know that dress isn't appropriate and I can see it all over your face, Kitten. You should have done as I instructed.' He stepped back, his face stern.

'Lift your dress. Show me.'

I bent gripping the hem of my skirt and rolled it up above my waist, revealing his choice of underwear - a delicate black lace thong with eyelash trim.

'Well, that's something at least. The hair too and the makeup. Your nails. Good.' His expression softened slightly as he reeled off this list. 'Now, take them off and give them to me.'

Suddenly becoming aware of how damp I was between my thighs I grimaced. Without them, I would surely make a mess of myself.

'No. I need those!' I protested.

'Do you now? I don't think you do. Take them off, or I will and we won't be so alone if I have to.'

I let out an audible sigh and hooked my thumbs inside the lace.

'Wait.' He reached inside his left trouser pocket and I caught a glimpse of something gold between his fingers.

He held it up in front of my face, my princess plug, gold and topped with a ruby red gem.

'Open' he tapped my lips with the tip of the dome.

My eyes fluttered up to his questioningly, but I already knew what he would have me do.

My mouth opened, tongue flat and he rolled the plug in and out over it before telling me to close.

My mouth now full, warming the cool metal, I continued to remove my knickers, moving slowly, my eyes fixed on his. The damp between my legs growing. My mind filled with images of him taking me here and now. I wanted that.

'You might want to move a little quicker, Kitten. Someone might find us.'

'Give it to me.'

He stretched out his hand. Snapping me out of my reverie.

I pushed the lace over my stilettos and to the floor, stepping out of them, dropping my hem and crossing my arms over my chest defiantly.

'Tsk. Did you forget you have the plug in your mouth?' He stooped and grasped my knickers between forefinger and thumb at the gusset. Smiling he rubbed his thumb over the silky wet stain there. He raised them to his nose and took a quick breath in before stuffing them into the pocket where the plug had been.

My stomach tightened and I could feel the pressure of a deep, burning arousal growing inside me.

'Now, turn. Hands against the door.'

I turned, placed my hands flat against the cool wooden door and closed my eyes.

He pushed into the small of my back with his palm forcing me to bend further, lifted my skirt over my presented ass and held it there. With his other hand, his fingers ran up my neck, beneath my chin, then up to remove the plug from my mouth. My senses heightened with the chill of the air on my exposed flesh, I felt the drip of his saliva hit just above my puckered hole and trickle lower before he circled with the head of the plug, teasing and pushing slowly, steadily until my muscles took hold and the plug was secure.

I had no idea how long he planned for me to wear it. Only that it would be both a reminder to do as I was told and a constant distraction - only increasing my arousal as the night went on.

'Behave.' He dropped my skirt and stepped back.

'Yes.' I breathed, opening my eyes, straightening myself and turning to face him.

'Yes Sir' he corrected firmly, reaching for the door handle behind me.

'Yes Sir.'

Part 2

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