Good Sir Knight

GOOD SIR KNIGHT

Sitting alone at his kitchen table as he made them coffee, Jayla looked down for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning to make sure she still looked alright. She usually loved this outfit and felt particularly sexy in it - a pink, flirty A-line skirt that fell to about mid-thigh and a white wrap top that fit her perfectly and really enhanced her cleavage - but now she was second-guessing her fashion sense. Jayla found herself squirming in anticipation; she took a deep breath, squeezed her knees together, straightened her spine, and forced herself to keep her poise. After all, what impression would it make on her prospective Owner for him to notice her jitters and mistake it for weakness? She noted the coolness of the wooden chair on the back of her legs. No, not this time, not this Jayla. Not after all of the tasks and trainings she had completed to prove her submission and seriousness and dedication to their cause. The urge to serve her Sir overwhelmed her daily. She was utterly fulfilled by pleasing him. Today she would finally learn if he, her online Sir, could truly be the man of her dreams. Her Owner. Her head swam in the warped fairytale of it all; perhaps he would be her Good Sir Knight, fit her with her collar, and sweep her off her kinky feet.

The man, whose name was Paul but whom she just called Sir, was quieter in person. Jayla found it intoxicating to study him - the way he assuredly moved through the kitchen, the way he stood, the calmness of his face. She was wholly enamored with his ability to exist in the moment. She was relaxed by his steadiness. His control. It made her long for the dynamic they had been discussing and building via social media for nearly ten months, the very reason she was here tonight: She was to become Paul's slave, living in his home to serve him and him alone. And her Sir would determine if she was ready.

Paul returned to the table, set a warm mug in front of Jayla, and said, "Careful, it's hot." Jayla smiled at his kindness and took a sip, instantly burning her tongue and spilling some of the coffee on the table. Paul immediately lost his friendly demeanor. Jayla's eyes widened as she realized that his face had become stony, with a stern look that made his displeasure with her recklessness very clear. Today was not the day for grace. "Stick out your tongue," he said simply. Jayla set her mug down and stared forward, not daring to look her Sir in the eye, and immediately followed these instructions. Slowly, Paul rose from his chair and leaned forward, reaching across the table to lovingly take Jayla by the chin. He analyzed her tongue. "Tsk, tsk, pet...I gave you a very direct instruction: Be careful. Your first action disregarded this instruction and hurt my potential property. I do not want my property damaged due to reckless behavior. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good." He paused to take another sip of coffee. "Stand up and present."

Jayla rose immediately and assumed her attention position. Her feet were spread about hip-distance apart, with her toes facing forward. Her fingers were interlaced and resting on the back of her head, with her elbows in line with her ears. Her back arched deliciously, exposing her completely to him to be inspected. He slid the table and chairs away from her, allowing him to walk around her and take in every inch of her. She remained determined to redeem herself after such an embarrassing mistake, staring forward and standing still, using the best form she could. Without warning, her pink skirt and panties were pulled below her ankles. He smiled. "Well done, my pet. Not a budge." Jayla didn't dare smile. She wasn't given permission to relax. She had a job to do.

"Remove the rest of your clothing."

Jayla moved as quickly as she dared without looking frantic. Her need to please her Sir was her first priority. She kicked her skirt and panties to the side, and hastily threw her top and bra into the pile before returning to attention. Paul took a step back to assess her actions. "Pet, here is Rule #1: Be Tidy. I do not like a mess and I require my slave to keep my property tidy. My kitchen is currently not tidy. Correct it. When you are done, come to me in the front room and kneel before me." Paul gently kissed her forehead. "What is rule #1?"

"Be Tidy, Sir."

"Do you understand what you're being told to do?"

"Yes, Sir."

With a short, "Then do so," Paul left Jayla alone in the kitchen. She was buzzing with excitement. This was her first real test; her chance to prove herself. Determined to pass this time, Jayla started with returning the table and chairs to their original position as quickly and as quietly as she could. Noting the laundry pile on the floor, she took time to carefully fold and stack each garment, leaving them on the table and almost setting them in the drops of coffee from her humiliating spill earlier. She walked to the sink and looked for the paper towel, which she found mounted underneath the cabinet. Wetting the paper towel, Jayla noticed that there was more untidiness in this kitchen: The coffee pods were scattered on the counter. There were wet spots all around the sink. And her Sir had clearly eaten some sort of pastry for breakfast, judging by the crumbs she saw on the floor near the trash. Surely this was no accident. "My kitchen is currently not tidy. Correct it," he had said. And so she did.

It was about 12 minutes, Paul noted, when Jayla returned to the room. She stood directly in front of him and lowered to her knees. She spread her legs as fair apart as she could comfortably maintain and sat on her feet. She placed her hands on her thighs, palm-side up, and bowed her head.

Wordlessly, Paul rose to his feet and walked in what looked the direction of the kitchen. Jayla did not have the luxury of checking her watch, but it felt like he was gone for an excruciatingly long time. Jayla wished with all of her being to look for him, to seek reassurance, to ask if she did alright. But he would tell her, she knew. Patience was key, and kneeling for her Sir was a privilege.

As silently as he disappeared, Paul returned to the room and stood above Jayla. "Pet, please look up at me." Jayla struggled to stay composed as she looked upwards into his eyes. Her heart fluttered to see that his calm, kind, self-assured aura had returned. "I am very pleased with your first effort. Not only did you correct your mistakes, but you effectively and sufficiently tidied the rest of the kitchen." Jayla finally smiled. She had earned that much. Paul reached down and took her hand into his own. "Let's continue where we left off." He led her to the nearby chaise and gestured for her to sit on the furniture. She hesitated. She was still naked and sitting next to him, fully clothed, made her feel out of place. "Sir, should I redress?" His sly grin said it all. "I didn't instruct you to, so no. Sit." Jayla took her seat as directed, being sure to bow her head. Paul sighed and lovingly looked her up and down. After a pause, he spoke. "And that leads us to Rule #2: Be Open. That means in all aspects of your life. Honesty and authenticity is required. You are to address any fears or feelings that concern you with me when asked, and you must journal to me nightly. The notebook will be left in the office, and it will be your responsibility to write out your feelings each night for me to read between 8 and 10pm. This is non-negotiable and withholding your true feelings from me will get you punished. I cannot guide you if I do not wholly know you."

Jayla was given a few seconds to absorb his words.

"Being open," he continued, "also means that my property is always available to me. Her pretty holes are open for me at all times. Therefore, slaves must obtain permission to dress. Clothing is a gift for my slave, not a right." Jayla gulped involuntarily and hoped he didn't notice. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What is Rule #2?"

"Be Open, Sir."

"And what was Rule #1?"

"Be Tidy, Sir."

"Good girl. Now do you have any fears to share with me right now?"

"No, Sir."

"Then why did you gulp?" said Paul quietly. Jayla's eyes shot up to meet his in a panic. He'd noticed. Jayla attempted to explain herself, but was caught so off-guard by how well he could read her that she stuttered instead. It didn't really matter. Before she'd realized what happened, he had risen to his feet again. "Remain on the chaise and assume Table position, facing the wall." Jayla swiftly turned, got on her knees, and leaned forward, supporting her top half by squaring her hands below her shoulders on the chaise's cushion. Her back was as flat as she could make it and the tops of her feet were resting against the fabric of the chaise. As she was trained to do, Jayla stared forward with her chin up. Lowering her head was not permitted in Table position; that she knew. He had drilled that into her brain at around month four by forcing her to hold it for an hour straight. If her chin dipped, the timer restarted. It took her 283 excruciating minutes on her knees for her to get it right.

"Pet, what is Rule #2?"

"Be Open, Sir."

"Did you understand what the rule meant?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Did you hear me ask you if you had any fears or concerns?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Did you have a fear or concern?"

She hesitated. "...yes, Sir."

"Please share it."

Jayla took a moment to compose her thoughts. She wanted to make sure she was being her authentic self. "Sir, I was worried about always being naked. It is a very vulnerable feeling and I'm worried about not being what you expect or deserve."

Paul silently considered her words. Jayla could not see him and anticipation bubbled within her. She stayed firmly focused on the wall, making sure she kept her form. She felt his hand begin to lovingly rub her ass. "That is a very valid concern, pet. Thank you for articulating it so well. Let me explain plainly: you have no expectations to think here. My slave does my will. By following my word exactly, you will never disappoint me." She relaxed into the warmth of his voice. "I treasure my property. By becoming my property, you will also be treasured and cared for."

*SMACK*

His hand fell with a heavy sting. Jayla bit her lip and swallowed her gasp.

"What is Rule #2, pet?"

"Be Open, Sir."

*SMACK*

"And Rule #1?"

*SMACK*

"...Be Tidy, Sir!" Jayla said through gritted teeth, holding her form at all costs.

His hand left her ass and began to travel slowly up her back, pausing to stroke her hair gently. "Good girl..." He said in a low voice, slowly walking into her view. "Do not drop your chin. Look at me." Jayla turned to the left slightly to see her Sir removing his belt. "As I mentioned, a failure to Be Open will result in punishment. You are to receive 10 swats with my belt each time this happens. It will occur on this chaise, in this position. You are not to move. If you lose your form, I will restart the punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Look forward," Paul said as he returned to her side. "Are you ready?" Jayla blinked, took a sharp breath, and on the exhale, said, "Yes, Sir."

*THWACK*

Each hit with the belt stung more than the last one. On hit four, the belt landed across the back of Jayla's thighs, making her jump from the unexpected sting. Her stomach dropped; she knew she had lost form. "What a shame, pet. Please reset. Let's try again."

*THWACK*

The stripes and welts were starting to rise beautifully on her skin. In the second attempt, Paul paused on hit five and slowly returned to her view before bending low to speak into her ear. "My darling pet, you are halfway done and doing tremendously. It's time for you to learn your next rule. Rule #3 is Be Thankful." He kissed her on the temple and continued quietly. "I am thankful for my slave every day. She is to repay me by being thankful for what I give her." Jayla listened intently, staring straight ahead. "After each of the next five lashes, you are to thank me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

The first lash was less than a second later and took Jayla's breath away. She managed to choke out, "Thank you, Sir!" just in time for the belt to land again. "Thank you, Sir!" she said, a bit calmer this time. "Just three more," she thought. But her Sir made them count; the third hit made the tears well in her eyes as she stammered, "Thank you...Sir..." A pause. Jayla didn't know where Sir had gone or what would happen next. Without warning, he landed the fourth blow and Jayla felt her head start to dip from the fogginess of her subspace.

"What do you say?"

Jayla composed herself and quickly raised her chin. "Thank you, Sir." He groped her ass as he said, "This will be the hardest strike. Steady yourself." Jayla held her breath and suddenly became very aware of every muscle in her body, each of which were strained and screaming for relief. Staring forward, she waited. The final heavy thud radiated through Jayla and she screamed, "Thank you, Sir!!" while choking back tears. He beamed behind her. He would tell her how pleased he was later. RIght now, he would reward her. "You may relax." As if the batteries had been removed from her, Jayla collapsed in a heap on the chaise. Paul enveloped her, laying beside her and wrapping his powerful arm around her waist, and allowed her to collect herself.

After several minutes, he said, "Pet, there is nothing in this world I'd rather be than your Owner." She opened her eyes and turned to face him. "Really?" she asked, smiling. "Absolutely," he answered, looking lovingly into her eyes. "You have earned your place beside me." He pulled a rose-colored leather collar from his pocket. "As you know, this collar signifies your servitude. When you wear this collar, you answer to no one but me. I officially own you. Do you understand?"

Unable to hide her glee, Jayla giggled. "Yes, Sir! I'm honored to serve you."

Paul nodded and smiled approvingly, putting the collar around her neck and buckling it in place. "Are you ready for your first reward?"

Jayla beamed with pride. "Yes, Sir."

"Remain here and rest. Drink at least half of this," he said as he handed her a cold bottle of water, "and think about the rules." Without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving her alone in her thoughts. She was in a blissful cloud, her dreams coming true. This Good Sir Knight was indeed going to whisk her away. She had been collared. She was to be his.

Her daydream was interrupted by hearing the footsteps of her Sir in the hallway. She took a few more gulps of water. Paul set a kitchen chair in the center of the room. "Sit." Jayla immediately rose, crossed the room, and sat obediently in the chair. She winced from the feeling of the cold, hard surface on her marks. Paul then retrieved the plastic wrap from his bag. He wrapped each of her legs in place against the front legs of the chair. "Cross your arms." She did as she was told and was met with her new Owner wrapping the plastic wrap several times around her chest and arms, binding her to the back of the chair. She was officially his to use as he saw fit; there was nowhere to move. Jayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath, centering herself. When she opened her eyes, she saw her Sir holding a powerful vibrating wand.

"Your reward is to cum as many times as you are able in 15 minutes," he said. He set the vibrator on the chair and pushed the head of it just above Jayla's clit. He then taped it in place. "What's Rule #3?"

"Be Thankful, Sir."

"That's right, my beautiful slave. You are to be thankful for every orgasm you have. I will be in my office listening for the thank yous - make sure I can hear them." And without another word, Paul switched the vibrator on and left the room.

Jayla was immediately overwhelmed by sensations unlike any she'd experienced in her life. She felt the waves of pleasure crash over her and found it hard to catch her breath. In under a minute, Jayla exploded, having the strongest orgasm of her life. "Thank you, Sir!" she cried, meaning every bit of her gratitude.

There was no time to savor the aftershocks of the first orgasm. The vibrator relentlessly demanded that she cum again. She tried to stop it; she wasn't ready. Before she could prepare herself, she climaxed again, feeling her legs twitch helplessly from the pleasure. "Thank...you...Sir...!" she cried, feeling completely tapped.

The vibrator did not stop. She had surely reached her limit. Sir said to cum as many times as she could in 15 minutes. Two was her limit, she thought with conviction. She had to let him know. "Sir! Please! I cannot cum anymore!" The buzz from the chair drowned out every other noise; Jayla was in a torrent sea of pleasure and torment. "Thank you for my gift, Sir!" she tried again. "Please let me go!" But no salvation came. Instead, the wand continued to vibrate devilishly between her legs, reminding her of how very powerless she truly was. She struggled against the plastic wrap, reaching fruitlessly for the toy, desperately trying to make it stop. The most she could manage was to slightly wiggle her fingers. "Please Sir! PLEASE!" Jayla was shouting with all of her might now, begging him to hear reason. She threw her head back and closed her eyes.

"Pet. Look at me."

Jayla looked up hopefully at her love, her Sir, her Owner. The man she knew had her best interests at heart. She begged one last time. "Thank you Sir, please Sir, make it stop. Please."

Paul smiled. "My slave, your gift is 15 minutes in heaven. It's only been eight minutes, and I would never steal that much of a reward away from you!" Jayla moaned and looked helplessly at the vibrator as he poured lube onto it. The sensations intensified in a way that Jayla could not describe, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Don't forget to say thank you," he said coyly as he sat in his recliner to watch her struggle.

He was absolutely spellbound by her body, covered in beads of sweat, contorting involuntarily. Her eyes grew wide as she felt her third orgasm build. "THANK YOU SIR!!" she cried as her body lost all control of itself, grinding greedily against the vibrator, searching for more. Paul obliged by turning the wand to its highest setting. Jayla yelped and moaned, breathless, begging her Owner for release in incoherent mumbles. "Please Sir...I can't cum again...I came as many times as I could...please Sir...please...make it stop..." Her pleas were ignored. The panic turned into pleasure one last time, as a fourth orgasm was ripped from Jayla's body. "THANK! YOU! SIR!!" she exclaimed as she squirted, dripping all over her legs and feet, and her body went limp in the chair.

---

The next morning, Jayla awoke nude in her Owner's bed. She rolled over to see he had already started his day, and had left her a note. "Rule #1: Be Tidy. There is a mess in my front room - someone left a puddle on my floor and toys strewn about. Correct it."