Rules are meant to be broken…and so is your ass

I want to see you.

The five words stared up at me from my phone, silently beckoning me to me respond. But I ignored it for two days.

Please see me.

This text 48 hours later seemed more honest. He was begging and I liked that as I was deciding whether or not to ignore this one another one popped up interrupting my decision: 

I need you Mistress, please.

What about what I need? I replied back.

You need me and I am yours.

He was definitely going all in this round but that didn’t get the Congressman off the hook so easy. We had rules set in place for safety but flat out standing me up was more than I could take. The last time we had slated to meet the Congressman stood me up with not even so much as a hint as to why or when I’d hear from him again. I sat in the hotel lobby looking like a stray glove, alone and misplaced on the couch for three fucking hours before I lost my patience.

No he’d have to do better than some cheesy lines.

Prove it, I texted back rapidly.

Anything, name it and it yours as am I, he replied almost as quickly. 

I sat and thought for a brief moment.

Book a room at the Hilton downtown, get their most expensive room, I won’t settle for less..and this time put it in your name.

Time ticked by and I received no response from him. Had he promised more than he could offer?

Two hours later: Room #_____ awaits your presence, will you grace us with it?

I called the hotel to confirm that their most expensive suite was booked and currently occupied for the day and texted back a simple, No.

He called me immediately and pleaded with me to see him, apologized for missing our last meeting and promised he would never make that mistake again. I told him that I’d see him on one condition, he would be punished. This punishment would be to any extent I wanted as long as it was contained to the room we were in.

“Yes Miss, I deserve to be punished for disappointing you,” he whispered quietly into the phone.

I got dressed in one of the sluttiest outfits I could muster for early afternoon and trekked downtown to the hotel.

Once I arrived, I made a big show of letting the desk know I was there for his room, even going as far as to name him and say, “Oh did he already pay for the two hours we’ll need the room?”

The concierge blushed but assured me the entire day had been paid for in full, not just an increment of time.

Next time I want him to think twice before deserting me. I thought aloud as I took the elevator up.

KNOCK!
KNOCK!
KNOCK!

I rapped on the large polished wood door before he swung it open. He was still dressed in his suit and went to greet me with a kiss on the cheek but I turned away giving him a look of Seriously? I don’t think so.

“I’m sorry Mistress, I just…I didn’t…” he stammered after reading my face.

“Shut up gay boy,” I said sharply shutting the heavy door a bit harder than needed.

SLAM!

He jumped a little.

“Are your nervous? Did the door scare you? Do I scare you?” I asked him in a mocking tone.

I threw my purse and coat bag down in the chair as I walked over to him and grabbed his balls thru his grey dress pants.

“Yes Mistress, I don’t like you angry. I am sorry I displeased you,” he said as he looked down to the floor.

“Take off your clothes and get on your knees to plead your case before I administer punishment,” I said plopping down in the wing back chair in the corner. He didn’t hesitate like before, he just started stripping. As he undressed I watched him closely but also surveyed the room we were in. For their most expensive suite this was rather impressive, rich dark wood furnishings, flat screen television, completely granite bathroom, high-back chairs, but I had seen better.

He was finished and on his knees. I walked in a circle around him and placed my hand on the back of his head, shoving it down so that he looked at the ground. This was the first time I had seen him naked and I wanted to inspect every glorious inch of him as it would appear he took care of his body…damn good care. I pulled him by his ear back towards the chair I sat in. Something about sitting in a chair with a man kneeling in front of me has always turned me on. Maybe it’s the mild Basic Instinct feeling to it or maybe I just like seeing a man kneel…but I sure do enjoy the view. I kicked my shoes off into his chest. The pointy heels left little red marks on him but he didn’t seem to notice as he cradled my right foot in his hand and begin kissing it all over.

I smacked him in the side of his head, “Who said you could have the privilege of kissing my feet?”

He stammered again but ultimately said meekly, “No one, I am sorry Miss…forgive me, I just want to please you.”

I believed him as I had never seen him this docile since we’d met. Without his witty banter, expensive suits, and come hither look he was reduced to this…and I liked this.

Our last meeting was for a fitting. I had decided that I enjoyed the Congressman’s legs so much that I wanted to accentuate them…with a dress. I was making him a Queen of Hearts dress that I wanted him to wear, full of ruffles and girlish goodness. But he never showed up. 

I had brought the dress with me today, along with my telephone, which I planned to use for pictures. He had promised recently that if I took pictures without his face, he would be comfortable with that level of exposure and I was holding him to his word on this.

“Tell me why you failed to show up last meeting?” I grilled him as I placed my pantyhose-clad foot on his shoulder pressing my toes on him roughly.

“I wanted to meet you Mistress, I did. But, something came up at work and I had no way to reach you and I assumed once I had missed it that you would never see or speak to me again. I’ve been working up the nerve to see if you would since then. I have to leave today during our meeting to attend to work for an hour or so but I want to come back if you’ll let me and resume our time together,” he said all of this at once, the words falling out like sugar from a spoon.

His excuse wasn’t pretty but it was the truth and I could see he felt bad, still…there would be repercussions.

“Don’t ever do that again. Do you understand Congressman? Next time you pull a stunt like that you can forget about me ever acknowledging you again,” I spat the words at him sternly.

He nodded and said, “Of course.”

I learned that he had to leave in only 30 minutes for something for work but told him he’d be going back with a red ass. I was going to allow him to return afterward for the dress fitting but before that he would take his punishment like a good little boy.

I made him get back on his knees and I stood before him. I lifted up my skirt slowly to mid-thigh and then reached under and removed the silk panties I wore.

“Open up,” I said pointing to his mouth. He did as he was told and I stuffed them in his mouth and directed him to bend over the bed.

He assumed the position, hands tucked under him, mouth full of semi-wet panties and awaited punishment while I walked over to his pile of clothing and removed his belt from his pants lying on the ground. 

“Whatever punishment you receive, I will be posting on my blog, do you understand? I want my readers to know what happens to bad Congressmen who disrespect Mistress,” I said casually. He nodded agreeing.

I scratched my nails down his bulbous bottom, which caused him to goosebump and then I wielded the belt in my right hand and began punishing him. He turned red quicker than I thought but I continued nonetheless alternating between my hand and the belt. He would clench up and wiggle a little but he hardly made a sound. I beat him until it was 10 minutes prior to his leaving and then rubbed his ass with an ice cube from the ice bucket after snapping a picture of my handiwork.

I removed the panties from his mouth and he worked his jaws out a little, and blinked back glassy eyes before smiling at me.

He thanked me as he got dressed but I think he hardly noticed that I had kept another one of his belts…just adding it to the collection.