For @subtlepen, who has the best tumblr.
He’d been bad.
He’d been awful, and he knew it.
He was supposed to do exactly as she instructed, to wait for her, to be kneeling and hard and desperate when she got home. Instead he gave in to his baser urges, jerked off on his own and fell asleep naked on their bed. When he woke up to a sharp pinch on his inner thigh, his heart sank.
"I’m sorry," he stuttered. "I didn’t mean to—"
She was angry, her eyes narrowed into slits, and his words trailed off. He braced himself for a tirade, for a physical punishment, for whatever she felt he deserved.
She turned away.
"Please, I’m sorry," he whispered, rising up to his knees on the bed. "I thought if I came once, I could last longer—I could take the edge off. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Please, I’ll do anything, I—"
"Shh," she snapped. "Bad boys don’t get to beg."
He swallowed a whimper, sat back on his haunches and tucked his hands under his knees.
"And don’t tell me you’ll do anything,” she said, rolling her eyes. She kept them locked on his face even as she rummaged in the bottom drawer of their dresser. “You couldn’t do one thing. You couldn’t even do the one thing I asked of you, which was what?”
"Wait for you," he whispered, head bowed.
"Wait for me," she mimicked. "All you had to do was wait, and you would have found out exactly what I had planned for you tonight." She pulled a few lengths of rope out of the drawer—the harsher, rougher ropes they’d long ago stopped using in favor of finer, softer ones.
"I’ll make it up to you."
"Too late for that now," she said, pushing him forward onto the bed. He went willingly, his hands lax at his sides, letting her move his body how she wanted it. "What if I like it when you wait for me? When you get so excited you come right away, and I get to work you back up slowly, make you come again? What if that’s what I spent all day thinking about?"
He groaned, his cock starting to thicken up beneath him at the thought of her sitting at her desk at work, planning what she wanted to do to him.
"Well, you’ve ruined your own fun, but I won’t let you ruin mine." She pulled his hands behind his back and wrapped the rope around his wrists, doing it quickly, harshly, with less care than she usually took.
When his hands were bound, she tugged and pulled at his body until he was resting on his side, facing the wall. Then she knelt down until she was at his eye level, tilted her head so he couldn’t avoid her gaze.
"I’m going to get myself off, just like you did," she said, cupping his cheek. "And you won’t get to touch, or taste, or even see."
He choked back a sob, panicking, opened his mouth to protest. He shuddered when she pressed a single finger to his lips.
"Shh. You were bad, but you can be a good boy for me now if you do as I ask."
He gasped, blinking away tears, and focused on her face. His breath was coming too fast, but he focused on her, matched his breaths to hers, and felt his body start to calm.
"Eyes on the mirror, don’t move." She kissed the tip of his nose and turned to rummage in the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out a vibrator and a small bottle of lube, making sure he could see what she chose, and then walked right past him.
He lost sight of her when she rounded the corner of the bed, moved to the other side behind his back. She was careful to stay out of his line of sight in the mirror as she undressed—he only caught a quick glimpse of smooth, bronze skin as she settled into her plush reading chair on the other side of the room.
She’d punished him before—she’d brought him to his knees, left his ass bruised for days, made him scream and cry.
This was by far the worst thing he’d had to endure.
He heard everything—her sweet sigh as she relaxed into the chair, the click of the cap on the bottle of lube, the slick sound of her fingers moving over her flesh and the hum of the vibrator. His dick was impossibly hard and he could do nothing about it—he couldn’t even rut against the bed in the position she’d left him in. Every new sound was a fresh wound, reminded him of his failure and what he’d lost.
She said nothing until the very end—until the humming of the vibrator got louder and her breath came faster.
"This could be you," she gasped. "This should have been you making me come."
When she was spent, when she crawled up onto the bed behind him and spooned him gently, he told her again.
"I know." She kissed his shoulder and reached down between them, tugging at the ropes until they came loose. She tossed them aside and moved him gently, maneuvering him until his arms were in a more comfortable, natural position. She wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed tightly. "I forgive you."
Her fingers crept down over his stomach and brushed against his aching cock. He hissed at the soft touch, aching for a much firmer one, but pushed her hand away gently despite his need.
"I’d rather wait, if that’s okay?" he asked tentatively.
"For what?" she murmured, peppering the back of his neck with kisses.
"For tomorrow… or the next day, or… whenever we do this again. I want to wait for you."
He felt her smile against his skin, ignored the ache in his groin in favor of the warmth of her approval. “Okay,” she whispered. “Good boy.”