The Good Girl Chronicles

He sat on a wooden chair in the corner of my kitchen, watching me as I cooked. I can’t remember what we talked about as I sliced pineapple for the grill. Sir says that the kitchen is my domain, the one place where I can give him direction. I prefer that he sit and talk to me while I work. Unless he wants to cook without pants… and then I want to be the one in the corner watching.

At some point, I put down the chef knife and went over to kiss him. I teased him about how long we had gone without any kind of scene. It had been two weeks since the slave hunt, and I needed the time to heal. My bruises were gone, and I was feeling antsy. I pouted and said something about how neglected my pussy felt. 

Sir smiled and kissed me, and I laughed about how bratty I was being. Sometimes I’m completely unguarded with Sir and my words tumble out, regardless of any retribution. He indulges me quite a bit, and I had every expectation that he would tolerate my teasing. 

A strong arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me closer. I had every intention of snuggling closer, but his other hand kept my hips in place. Confused, I looked down to see him lay his ear against my lower abdomen. Before I could formulate a question, he bit me. He grabbed a mouthful of flesh right above my clit, on the meaty part of my mound. 

I gasped and went completely still as my brain acknowledged the sharp pain that was hitting my nerves. I wanted to pull away, but I knew it would only hurt more when his teeth dug deeper to hold me in place. Plus, sir had a rule. I wasn’t permitted to shy away; I was to strive to always present my body for his use, whatever that may be. I gritted my teeth and whimpered at the pain. I told myself that it wouldn’t last long. I just had to hold on a little longer. Eventually he released me, his smile broadening into a wolfish grin as he watched me pant.

“You were saying?” he asked.

“Nothing sir,” I muttered and almost sprinted back to the stove.

As I returned to the cutting board, I comforted myself with the thought that this new bite was a fluke. It was such a sensitive place, surely sir wouldn’t do it again. Yeah, I knew my platitudes were bullshit too. And I write that with a grin on my face.