To think of a door being important in such a wild connection as that with Kate, seems strange at first. But on one side is the drudgery of normality, acceptable in some instances, that rat race of living and on the other? Well, in this case it wasn’t always set as a place for being able to let down your outer veneer of a pillar of local society, a person of perfect living. Is there such a thing? But on those occasions when someone special wanted an escape, then the other side of the door, the street door was on a very different level of acceptability.

Kate had come to consider that she’d move heaven and earth, to get a few hours to step over the threshold. Finding reality from her imaginings, she always said, helped keep her sane, and something to very much look forward to. Not that it was always cosy. Not that it was always the same; it never was. The only same, was stripping naked, kneeling for the collar and mantra, and the delights of being inspected. She could suggest what might happen, and sometimes it would materialise.

She now felt that trust was total. I did too. Well, no flashing blue lights had woken me from a deep stupor in the middle of the night, nor offensively threatening phone calls, from an extremely irate husband. So because of this level of trust, she’d dared to suggest that she would allow me the privilege of taking her to new heights.

We’d really got into the language rules, and gone further with poses, for her to present herself on different occasions. She’d learnt to be proud of her nakedness, or how to strut her stuff when she wanted to tease or torment. She’d worked out little striptease routines on the boring Saturdays when the family had gone off with Lol (Laurence, the hubby), because Kate had more detailed studying to do, in the calm, quiet of her home. She loved giving herself the break to find something different to wear, dress herself, whisper her words as though in conversation with me and then gyrating to slowly remove what she wore and pose at the end.

One sofa study time, when she was supposed to be concentrating on her latest assignment, and Lol was distracted watching sport on the tv, she admitted to playing with one of her toys.

Rules had extended to asking for permission to do certain things. Not micromanaging her, but things that turned her on, because she felt humiliated to have to ask. Playing, was a permission zone. She hadn’t received such clearance.

“What did you do, aurora (Kate’s alter ego name)?”

“I, erm…sorry. Sir, this sub used its red dildo last Saturday, Sir.”

“And you asked, first?”

There was a pause. She knew she hadn’t.

“Sir, no Sir.”

“When did you do this, aurora?”

“Sir, when everyone was out last Saturday, Sir. Sir, after Your property had done a tiny striptease routine and pressed itself against the washing machine on spin…shit, Sir.”

“You really are in a mess, aurora.”

“Sir, this sub was, Sir.”

“your flippant response gets you no favours, aurora. you disobeyed. There’s a punishment for such neglect.”

An even longer silence.

“Sir, what is Your property to do for its punishment, if it pleases You, Sir?”

“Bring the offensive item with you, next time you visit. you’ve to hold it in your hand, all the way from your vehicle to the street door. Understand?”

“Sir, is this sub able to do some punishment at home, if it pleases You, Sir?”

“No, aurora. The punishment is experienced here.”

The elation of having her Saturday fun, suddenly went cold and closed down all around her.

“Sir, Your property is deeply sorry for forgetting to ask first, Sir.”

“I’m sure that you are sorry, aurora. But transgressions have consequences, and you don’t want your owner to just let a rule slip by, do you, hmmmmm?”

A rather weak reply was returned. “Sir, no Sir.”

“When is your next visit, aurora?”

If she wasn’t happy with how she was being treated, now would be the sign in her reply. But, we’d agreed that she liked the scary things, as much as the high flying experiences. So, this would tell, if she meant what she said, and wanted.

“Sir, this coming Friday, Sir. Sir, about 11, again, Sir.”

So, she was visiting and not backing out.

“Don’t forget the offending item, aurora.”

“Sir, no Sir.”

On that Friday morning, around 10.50, I left a note in the frosted glass pane of the street door. It read, “Kate, walk in. Check inside.”

In the inner hallway, a kind of vestibule between street door and inner door, I left a further note, with instructions.

“Lock the street door.

Walk into hallway. Close inner door.

Strip and leave clothes neatly in the bag.

Put your dildo in your mouth.

Face the empty coat pegs on the wall.

Put left hand on the very left peg, right hand on the very right peg.

Spread feet, shoulder width apart.

Wait.

I’m watching.”

I placed a black, swivel leather office chair at the far end of the hallway, at the bottom of the stairs. I’d dressed in black leather, elbows placed on arm rests, forearms pointing upward to extended hands and fingers, meeting together, my lips resting between index and middle fingers…and I waited, and watched.

At 11, the street door opened. I’d left the inner door slightly open so that I could see aurora, as she flustered her way in, and her hands. I was looking to see that she was holding the red dildo, as she’d been instructed. The street door locked, she brought the piece of paper from the inner door with her. As she came through the inner door, reading the instructions, I saw that she had the dildo tucked up her jacket sleeve, and the not so visually offensive blank end, very much in her hand. She’d followed the direction and been sensible with her adaptation of the directive.

As she glanced up and entered the hallway, she nearly left the floor, with a sudden gasp and double take on suddenly seeing me, seated.

I gestured to toward the paper, saying nothing. She was a little shaken by the last few moments. Her fingers fumbled for the buttons on her jacket, the zip on her suit trousers, the laces on her steel toe capped shoes and the hook and eye clasp on her lingerie, down to her nakedness. All the time she juggled the dildo too.

Finally, having got to the coat pegs, she placed the offending toy in her mouth, spread her feet, and gently tilted her head downward, as she’d been taught. She waited.

I made her wait.

After what must have seemed like an eternity, I stood up. The hard hallway floor was a delightful sounding board for my boots. I took deliberate, slow steps towards her and stood behind her. I knew that her mind would be screaming, “Where is he? What’s he thinking? What will he do?”

I pointed an index finger (a most delightful tool) and I touched the centre of her spine, lightly. By her sudden movement, you’d have thought a bullet had caught her. I slowly…ever sooooo slowly made the finger travel down her spine until it met the cluster of very fine hairs at its base. With the slightest of touches, I stroked, knowing full well that she would be trembling inside. It’s such a beautiful sensation.

“Welcome, aurora,” I whispered into one of her ears. “You pleeeeaaased me, with your attention to my instructions. The dildo in your mouth, your nakedness displayed in front of me, ready for your punishment.” She was completely still now. “Let go of the coat pegs. Slowly turn round and then re hold the pegs again. Just…for…me. There’s a gooood girl.” She loved being called such a name. The pegs were high enough for her to still reach up, and be totally vulnerable before me.

“Now, aurora. Is this the offending toy, in your mouth, hmmmm?”

She nodded, without looking at me. She knew she mustn’t.

I reached out and held the other end on the toy.

“Give!”

She let go.

“It’s so lovely and wet, aurora and you’ve made it warm too. Clever girl.”

I stroked it down her chest. It’s silicone flexibility making it bend under the slight pressure I was exerting behind it. I stroked her nipples, stroked between her breasts.

“Tongue out, aurora. Lick some more.”

She complied, and I took the dildo and stroked over her belly.

“Feet a little further apart, I think.”

She shuffled and I sensed her breathing was increasing.

I deliberately stroked the wet dildo carefully and slowly along the length of her slit, head first and watched her labia gently hang either side of it.

“you’re a wicked creature, aurora, for not asking permission to play. What are you?”

Her head lowered even further, and a tiny voice came out from an embarrassed mouth, “Sir, I…erm, this…Your property is a wicked creature, Sir.”

“Why?”

The tiny voice continued, “Sir, for not asking permission to play, Sir.”

I held the dildo in place, and put my other hand under her chin, to lift her head. “Now, tell me again, so’s I can hear you this time.”

Still not looking directly at my eyes, she repeated her admission of her behaviour.

“Much better, aurora. Now, lie on the cold, hard floor and show me how you like to play with yourself. And, I want to see you cum, for me, aurora. Can you do that, for me?” My voice raised in pitch towards the end of the sentence. “I’m sure you can.”

I sat back on the leather office chair. My arms, as before. Traffic and footsteps were only a matter of steps away, on the other side of the street door. We…aurora and I…we’re a World away from all of that.

“I’m waiting. Be a gooooood girl for me. Cum….for me.” The last three words were whispered as she sat on her backside on the cold hallway floor, laid on her back, raised her knees, pushed her heels towards her backside, turned her head to the side, and closed her eyes, to begin her beautiful journey.

“No, aurora…don’t you dare take your eyes off me, this time. you’re need to see who you’re cumming for. I’m real. I’m here. I’m watching. Now…begin” I looked deep into her eyes, no emotion slipped, and she began to stroke.