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Ella's Obedience

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6.​

Rather than sit back on her heels Ella kneels up, tall, her hips above her knees and her forearms resting on the book rail at the back of the pew in front.

Pp looks at her for a few moments, appraising her posture, quietly pleased at how the young woman holds herself.

She turns to him and begins, "See, I told y...." But he raises his finger to her chin and turns her head to face the front. "Shhhh Ella. Yes, quite good but can I make some small corrections?"

Without waiting for a reply her touches her arm and, with a little pressure, directs Ella to move them closer to her chest, away from the book rail.

A touch at her shoulder and a quiet but firm voice, "shoulders back please," and Ella squares her shoulders just a little straighter.

Then his hand slides down her back and Ella feels his palm cup her bottom. Pp feels the muscles tense at his touch. He runs it over the curve to where the buttock meets thigh, his fingertips following the furrow that bisects her arse. Again a little pressure upwards, a little pressure forwards and she feels herself kneeling a little more erect, a little straighter.

"Ella? No, don't look at me. Face forwards." Then, in his quiet but firm voice, "I would like you to cross your wrists behind your back." It is a direction, not a request and Ella obeys, lowering her clasped hands, reaching behind, and crossing her wrists one over the other.

Ella senses him slide behind her on the seat and feels his arms either side of her ribs as his hands open her blazer. She stiffens as he cups her breasts. "Look down Ella. No, just with your eyes. See how that pushes your breasts forward? And lifts them upward?"

His fingers brush upwards, onto the tops of her breasts and he can feel the young woman's nipples erect within the confines of her bra and blouse.

"Ella, your tight skirt prevents one further correction I would make though I won't elaborate on that now. However it is time to bow your head and say your prayers like a good Catholic girl should."

As the young woman bows her head and closes her eyes he listens to her whispering quietly....."Forgive me Heavenly Father......" And, as she prays, his hands caress her breasts, finger and thumb of each hand gently teasing the nipples he can feel erect through her clothing.

Then he moves his hands to her shoulders and presses down. Ella sinks back, her bottom on her heels, her skirt straining tight over its curve. As she does Pp slides along the pew to watch her from the side, taking in her bowed head, her upthrust breasts, wrists crossed behind her back and the pencil skirt stretched taut across her thighs and arse.

"Ella, you do look quite lovely kneeling like that. Thank you for being brave enough to take my dare. Can I offer you dinner on Friday evening as a reward and as my thanks?"

Ella turns towards him, her head still bowed, until a touch of his finger to her chin has her lifting her eyes to his. "I think I would enjoy that Pp. Thank you."

He is pleased to see a smile on her lips and a little glisten of wetness in her eyes.

"I should drive you home Ella? We can make a time on the way."

She nods and he offers her a hand to help her to stand.
 
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what just happened??? it was exhilirating and scary at the same time. doing that in a church...oh my god, literally! it was like he read my mind, asking me to cross my wrists behind my back. how often have i dreamt about having them tied that way?

i had to pray for forgiveness. at least i was already on my knees.

i stay silent as he walks me out to the car, not wanting to say anything. maybe next time, i'll pluck up the courage to ask him to tie my wrists behind my back. or perhaps i could be disobeident so he's FORCED to tie me up...
 
kneel_down_ella said:
what just happened??? it was exhilirating and scary at the same time. doing that in a church...oh my god, literally! it was like he read my mind, asking me to cross my wrists behind my back. how often have i dreamt about having them tied that way?

i had to pray for forgiveness. at least i was already on my knees.

i stay silent as he walks me out to the car, not wanting to say anything. maybe next time, i'll pluck up the courage to ask him to tie my wrists behind my back. or perhaps i could be disobeident so he's FORCED to tie me up...
Click to expand...
She is asking for it...

...don't give in!!!

bondage 093.jpg

...damn it Pp, you just had to...

Tree
 
7. Meeting Before Dinner​

Dinner is arranged for Friday and they will meet at the quiet club.

Pp arrives first and is seated with his back to the bar when he sees Ella walk though the door. He is pleased that she has worn a similar skirt, tight fitting and pencil-shaped. She has swapped the blazer for a smart jacket and has also shed the tie though she . With the top two buttons of her blouse undone she looks the image of a smart professional who has made the transition from work to play with little effort.

He watches as she walks towards him; heels a little higher tonight. The heels and the tight skirt limit her stride and her hips sway gently but erotically at each step.

As she approaches he notices that, while her chin is up and her face is pointed towards him her eyes are downcast. He wonders whether she is looking at the carpet for safety as she walks or whether there is a deeper reason.

As she reaches the bar he asks, "martini Ella?"

"Please Pp."

Ella’s martini arrives along with his fresh whisky.

"Shall we move to a table Ella?"

"No thank you Pp. I think I would like to show you that I can perch on a stool even in this skirt."

As she speaks Ella turns her back to the high bar stool, hooks a heel over the footrest and carefully lifts her firm, curved bottom up onto the seat. She sits quite erect, her knees drawn tight together by the slim-fitting skirt, her shoulders back and her breasts standing proudly beneath the white blouse, straining against the remaining buttons. Her wrists are crossed neatly on her lap. Below she has hooked both heels over the foot rest and her ankles are held closely together.

Pp cannot help but take in how carefully she is seated. Does she realise how neatly she is presenting herself to him? Each time, after she sips her martini, she returns her hands to her lap, her wrists gently crossed.

"Finish your drink Ella. It is time we left for dinner."
 
Primus pilus said:
7. Meeting Before Dinner​

Dinner is arranged for Friday and they will meet at the quiet club.

Pp arrives first and is seated with his back to the bar when he sees Ella walk though the door. He is pleased that she has worn a similar skirt, tight fitting and pencil-shaped. She has swapped the blazer for a smart jacket and has also shed the tie though she . With the top two buttons of her blouse undone she looks the image of a smart professional who has made the transition from work to play with little effort.

He watches as she walks towards him; heels a little higher tonight. The heels and the tight skirt limit her stride and her hips sway gently but erotically at each step.

As she approaches he notices that, while her chin is up and her face is pointed towards him her eyes are downcast. He wonders whether she is looking at the carpet for safety as she walks or whether there is a deeper reason.

As she reaches the bar he asks, "martini Ella?"

"Please Pp."

Ella’s martini arrives along with his fresh whisky.

"Shall we move to a table Ella?"

"No thank you Pp. I think I would like to show you that I can perch on a stool even in this skirt."

As she speaks Ella turns her back to the high bar stool, hooks a heel over the footrest and carefully lifts her firm, curved bottom up onto the seat. She sits quite erect, her knees drawn tight together by the slim-fitting skirt, her shoulders back and her breasts standing proudly beneath the white blouse, straining against the remaining buttons. Her wrists are crossed neatly on her lap. Below she has hooked both heels over the foot rest and her ankles are held closely together.

Pp cannot help but take in how carefully she is seated. Does she realise how neatly she is presenting herself to him? Each time, after she sips her martini, she returns her hands to her lap, her wrists gently crossed.

"Finish your drink Ella. It is time we left for dinner."
Click to expand...
Perfect, Pp, perfect!

:)

:popcorn:
thehangingtree said:
...dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal intention...

...it just crossed my mind...

Tree
Click to expand...

Or, in Tree's case, a vertical intention. :rolleyes:

He's the one prancing around the dance floor with his arms spread wide :rolleyes: :D
 
8. Pre-dinner​

He escorts to a a dark sports saloon parked directly in front of the club, opens the door and guides Ella onto the dark leather passenger seat. He reaches across and draws the seat belt back between her breasts, brushing her nipples with his hand as he does. Ella tenses at the touch but does not draw away.

As her drives Ella's face is towards the windscreen but her eyes flick across to take in what she can. He has his usual chinos and polished boots but the blue chambray shirt has been changed for a crisp white one under a dark blue jacket. No open collar but a red silk tie and that bulky full Windsor knot.

He drives briskly but carefully. No sudden acceleration, no sudden braking. He seems aware of what is ahead and anticipates the traffic. The restaurant is a 15 minute drive and Ella is almost disappointed when he parks, realising she had enjoyed the experience of driven by someone in such understated control of the car.

He helps Ella from the passenger seat and motions her to walk ahead of him up the short staircase to the restaurant door. As she does he takes in the erotic undulation of her buttocks as they move under her tight skirt. At the top of the stairs Ella pauses, turns, and notices that he is still standing on the footpath. “Did that meet with your approval?” She challenges him. He nods his head, smiles lopsidedly and bows slightly. “Oh yes, Ella. Very much.”

The restaurant is busy and, as they enter the maître d’ apologises. “I’m sorry Sir. A last minute group booking. Your usual table will be noisy so we have taken the liberty of seating you and your companion in the small private room. I trust that will suit?”

He nods his reply and the couple are escorted along a short corridor to a small room. The room has timber paneling heavy drapes outline the windows and a thick carpet covers the floor. There are three tables each set for two people. They are shown to one. “The other tables aren’t booked Sir. You will be alone here and, if we close the door, the noise from the large group will not disturb your dining.”

Once they are seated the maître d’ offers menus and, as he describes one or two dishes, Ella notices that no prices show beside the dishes on her menu. She looks at him, discretely pointing at her menu. He simply smiles and nods.

“Can I offer a drink while you peruse the menu?”

“Champagne, I think. Does that suit Ella?”

“Oh, Pp, yes please.”

“The usual then. Thank you John.”

When the champagne arrives and the flutes are filled he chuckles as he offers a toast. “Well Ella, I suppose we should toast all young ladies and their pencil skirts who kneel to say their prayers.” Ella raises her glass, touches his and adds, “and to those who enjoy knowing that they do?”

He notices the blush that colours her cheeks and begins to reply but is interrupted as a waiter enters to ask if they are ready to order.
 
still can't believe i not only saw him looking but showed it off. still if i'm going to put on a tight skirt then there's no point pretending my ass doesn't look good in it...

i decide to let him order for me. it gives me a little thrill, him being in charge...
 
as i sip my bubbly i think back to the night before...after i got home

i always pray before i go to sleep. usually i shower and change and then do it but not this time. i went to my bedroom and got down on my knees, still wearing my skirt and blouse and tie. prayed with my hands behind my back. it felt so good...like i was back in that church
 
9. Entree​

The thought broken, they chat inconsequentially until their entrees arrive then eat in silence. The food is excellent and Ella has not often enjoyed this level of cuisine and service nor the obscure New Zealand sauvignon blanc he has chosen to accompany the dishes.

As Pp finishes his entree he picks his serviette to dab at his lips. As he lowers it back across his lap he brushes his fork and the utensil falls to the floor. It makes no sound on the thick carpet but, before he can stop her, Ella slips from her chair to pick it up. As she does her pencil skirt forces knees to the carpet rather than allow her to bend from the edge of her chair and Ella finds herself kneeling beside the table.

With a girlish giggle she picks up the fork and offers it up to Pp. He takes the fork then touches his hand to her shoulder holding Ella there. His touch is quite gentle, has no force, but Ella does not try to regain her seat.

She looks up to him and they make eye contact. She can see he is smiling, nodding, as he takes in the sight of the attractive, confident young woman kneeling in front of him. His hand touches the front of her shoulder and Ella automatically straightens up, squaring her shoulders and lifting her breasts. She lowers her eyes and focuses on the pattern on his tie but still makes no effort to rise. He smiles again.

There is the noise of staff in the corridor and he touches his fore finger to Ella’s chin, raising her face. As her eyes meet his he gestures to her to rise and Ella regains her seat just as the latch clicks and the door opens.

While the waiter removes the plates and cutlery from the entree Ella seems absorbed by the pale wine in her glass but, when the waiter leaves, she hesitantly looks up. “Pp .... that was almost .... embarrassing.”

“Perhaps Ella, but you looked delightful and, if you don’t mind me saying, quite deliciously erotic.” Ella does not reply but the colour rises again in her cheeks and she shuffles a little on her chair.

He raises his wine glass to her. “Ella.” And she responds, “Pp.”
 
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Masterful writing. Entirely believable. One can picture every moment and almost feel the softness of the carpet and the warmth of the slight blush. Very sexy and personal.
 
Jollyrei said:
Masterful writing. Entirely believable. One can picture every moment and almost feel the softness of the carpet and the warmth of the slight blush. Very sexy and personal.
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Thanks Jollyrei. This is so different to the stories Pp usually writes and it is pleasing to hear that this more personal, slow and gentle way is working.:)
He just hopes that he can continue to encourage Ella in exploring what she might desire and will continue this quiet approach in the hope she isn't scared away. :D

Her little snippets in reply suggest Pp's approach might just be getting somewhere.;)
 
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