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Jun 08

Mischa Eliot

Sizzling Nibbles: Beloved Pet

Okay so this one went a little beyond the 1000 word count that I normally try to stick to for these posts but I couldn’t help myself. I hope you enjoy it as well.


“Do you know why I’m punishing you, Phoebe?” The leather belt smacked my right ass cheek, causing me to flinch. I knew it would leave a pink mark. Jake wasn’t using his full strength. Yet. A matching welt was on the left cheek as well. I knew many more stripes were to follow. I deserved it.

“Yes, Sir.” He hadn’t tied me down like he normally would, but expected me to stay still. He had told me in a firm voice that I was to take my punishment like a big girl. I flinched this time as the leather hit my skin.

Jake had gotten a promotion at work that took him out-of-town all week-long about six months ago. While the money was excellent and helped us prepare better for emergencies, vacations, and a splurge now and again, the time he spent away was causing tension. I loved my husband. I had my own life in the world outside, my own job, but coming home to an empty house five nights a week was difficult to say the least.

Two more strikes came in quick succession and tears stung my eyes. He was no longer being gentle, my master. I didn’t deserve gentle, not for what I had done. I had hurt him.

“What do you have to say for yourself, slave?” My heart clenched in my chest. He hadn’t called me slave in years. I was his pet, or his baby girl, and had been since we married.

“I truly apologize, Sir. I should not have gone without talking to you directly for permission.” The next blow that came was from his hand, and the one after that, directly on the strikes that already caused the lovely shade of red on my normally pale cheeks. I whimpered at the blow. He hadn’t crossed the previous strikes until now.

“Why did you do it, then?” The demand in his voice was laced with a touch of anger and a lot of hurt. Regardless of the reason behind my punishment, my thighs were drenched. The smell of my juices easily scented the air, especially when the furnace kicked in and blew warm air across my backside. The room smelled like jasmine and sex.

“My friend needed my help, Sir. I was the only person she could get a hold of. I tried calling you the entire drive there. Can you forgive me?” When I came home to a dark house, as he should’ve beaten me here, I had immediately showered and applied the lotion he liked. When I finished rubbing it into my skin, I displayed myself appropriately to await his return.

Jake had seen the multiple missed calls on his phone. He had shown me the display when he walked up behind me in the changing room. I had called right up to the moment before I was to be put on a pedestal and shown off as a piece of artwork. My friend had begged and pleaded with me and I felt that I couldn’t let her down. She would have done the same for me, I was sure of it.

Once upon the pedestal, people moved around me to transform me into Naomi’s vision. Between the change of hairstyle, makeup, mask and accoutrements that held me in the proper position, I was unrecognizable. They had come to me with a tall mirror so I could see myself. I had no idea I could look so incredibly different.

I knew that Jake’s company would be at this particular viewing. The CEO of his company was known for throwing extravagant parties and having board meetings at places that most companies would avoid. That was why I had tried so hard to get a hold of him. I knew he would recognize me immediately, even if no one else would.

Naomi had trussed me up in realistic-looking seaweed and painted me up as if I were the Lady of the Lake. If the Lady of the Lake were the type to enjoy being trussed up and very naked. A replica of the famed sword was at my feet, embedded in stone. The hilt thrust right up against the juncture between my thighs. Any slight shift caused it to bump me in the most intimate way. I could feel the wetness seeping down to dampen the very tip of the hilt.

There was very little fabric involved. I felt that I would look less indecent if I had been completely naked. However, I wasn’t the artist here, simply the one subject to her whims. When Jake stepped up before me, I couldn’t look at him. My eyes stared at his belt buckle, the one I had gotten him when he received his promotion. I couldn’t bear to see the look on his face when he recognized me, so I didn’t let myself look at his face.

The connection between us was quite strong and I could feel the heat of his anger radiating off of him as he stared up at me. I had briefly met his boss and knew him by his voice when he spoke to Jake and the others looking up at my body. They walked around me in a circle and I knew I would be punished later, as I should be.

“What a beautiful model. I love the story of Arthur and Camelot.” I tried but failed to prevent a small smile appearing on my lips. It was only for a moment, but I felt that I had made a mistake. I shouldn’t be enjoying this because I disobeyed.

“Yes, she is quite beautiful.” Jake responded and then moved on, the heat had gone away when he spoke and I felt a chill down my spine.

The feel of Jake’s cock against the tender skin of my ass brought me out of my thoughts. Yes, I had disobeyed and hurt my husband, my master. I hoped he would forgive me.

“It was quite difficult not ripping you down from that pedestal and having my way with you as everyone watched. I wanted to rip the seaweed ropes from you and bend you over. Much like you are now. You are mine.”

Jake’s cock slid inside, inch by slow inch. The heat of his breath hit the back of my neck and his strong, calloused fingers dug into my skin. As soon as he had a good grip on me, his teeth sank into the back of my neck and his cock thrust deeply into my soaking wet pussy. I cried out from the intense pleasure. My master rode me hard until he exploded inside me and then pulled away. I hadn’t reached climax. I hadn’t been given permission to do so.

“I forgive you, but I’m going to continue your punishment. I will continue to refer to you as slave until I decide you are once again my beloved pet. I will use you like a slave at my whim. I will decide if you climax or not. Are we clear, slave?”

“Yes, Sir.” My heart relaxed in my chest. My husband and master forgave my disobedience and gave me a way to return to his good graces. I would be the best slave and reclaim my title as beloved pet.

4 comments

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  1. niccihaydon

    I read this yesterday while I relaxed in the garden… or tried to relax, lol. Not easy when you’re getting all squirmy! I love the fact that this one actually has very little sex, briefly described in a single paragraph. But the relationship between them is really given some depth by all the build up.

    1. Mischa Eliot
      Mischa Eliot

      I think I get more worked up by building up a story, knowing what’s to come, but not how it’ll come about. I liked not letting her climax. It gives me a reason to revisit them again in the future. XoXo

      1. niccihaydon

        Haha, you are a cruel mistress… 🙂 xxx

        1. Mischa Eliot
          Mischa Eliot

          Sometimes, yes. 😉

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