Punishing Syn

The walk home from the cafe seemed to her to drag on forever and yet pass too quickly as they neared their home.

He was mostly silent, pondering His course of action.

The fear in her belly grew stronger and stronger with each step.

And finally they were at the cottage, up the stairs, and inside.

"Go downstairs, get undressed, and wait on your knees facing the corner."

"yes, Master." she whispered, her words catching in her throat.

The pretty slave obeyed without question, descending to the bathroom where she disrobed, placing her folded clothes on the chair by the bathtub.

she needed to pee but hesitated to do so without permission. Already she sensed that what was about to take place revolved around her obedience.

Shrugging, she decided to wait until she could ask and moved to the corner.

Sinking to her knees, she crossed her hands at the small of her back, sat up straight and bowed her head as if looking at a spot two feet in front of her.

It was the presentation position her Master had trained her to assume when she was told to wait. The point of her gaze was where His feet would be if He were standing before her.

At first it was not too bad. The floor was hard but carpeted and the narrow shelf that ran around the wall was filled with entertaining knick knacks that she could see without moving her head.

Upstairs, above the low ceiling she could hear Him moving around and for a while, entertained herself by picturing Him looking through and deciding what cruel devices He would use to punish her.

The butterflies in her stomach were familiar companions. The product of the mix of arousal and fear she always felt when she knew He was going to use her or torture her.

And, as usual, time seemed to slow down, seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace as she pondered her fate.

Slowly, steadily, the feelings of arousal seemed to fade away. In part because the pressure of her full bladder grew increasingly demanding. But also because had begun to think about the reasons for her being there.

His anger had emanated from Him as they had walked home.

This was no transgression that could be paid for with a few lashes or cane strokes, she had really fucked up this time. And she knew it.

And then the fear and arousal were gone. Even the importance of her need to pee subsided. And she began to feel sad.

He was her Master and as His slave she was dedicated to His service. To belonging to and pleasing Him. And she had failed.

Taking His coworker into the bathroom in the place where He worked was certain to be noticed, of that she was aware. But she had hoped that it would lead to a nice punishment with His cane and then, as had always happened before, forgiveness wrapped in His arms.

At that moment she rededicated herself to being the best slave she could ever be. Whatever punishment she was about to receive she would not just endure but welcome and take without complaint.

And she would accept it as her due, thank Him for it, and ask for more.

In time, the pain of the pressure on her full bladder pushed aside this and all other thoughts and sensations. Yet she held her pose, suffered, and endured.

Lost in her red fog of agony she didn’t even hear Him descend the stairs after the better part of two hours. Or realize that He had taken a seat in the chair and was studying her.

A sheen of perspiration and the occasional involuntary spasm of a tautly held muscle revealed the difficulties she was going through. He had brought down two bowls and placed them at His feet. One held water and the other plain brown rice.

At last, He spoke. “I blame myself for this.”

His voice startled her almost as much as His words. she longed to turn and throw herself at His feet, grab His legs and say it was not so.

“I’ve been careless. I have neglected My responsibilities.

“I have somehow let you begin to think of yourself as a person instead of what you are; My property.”

His words rang true to her. Their relationship had changed since she had asked to become His full-time slave. They had become, as well as Master and slave, Owner and possession, a couple.

It had not been intentional. Time and affection had flowered their passion into love.

The roles had stabilized into something else but they had never discussed it or tried to make it apply to their romance.

He had shared her with others as one might loan a valued book. To Him it was a way of asserting the fact that He owned her but He had never voiced it and she had taken it for something else: that He did not care.

Today she had learned that that was not so.

“Before we can address that there is the matter of your punishment. you gave away, in body and action, something that you did not have the right to give.

“For that, you must be punished. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Master. Thank You, Master.” she whispered, forcing out the words.

“I have come up with a plan that I think will serve to do both.

“I am going to cane and whip you more than I ever have before. And until that is completed you will be chained in this room whenever we are at home. Only when it ends will you be returned to My bed.

“Look at these,” He ordered, pointing at the two bowls. “This will be your sustenance, your prison fare, while you are being punished.”

His words entered her consciousness like a dagger.

They terrified her but they also filled her with love. He cared.

she felt her cunt get suddenly very wet. He still loved her.

“Thank You, Master.” she said, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

“So, how many lashes do you think you deserve? How many will it take to guarantee you never again forget your place?”

“i don’t know, Sir… one hundred?… five hundred?… a thousand?…”

her words had been hyperbole. It was entirely up her Master. The number was irrelevant. It was merely the price of her ticket back into His arms.

“Okay, one thousand it is.”

Swallowing deeply, she said clearly, “Thank You, Master.”

“I have decided on some rules for your punishment:

“you will stand however I pose you and hold that position. If you move, the previous 5 lashes will not count.

“At the end of each session I will write the total on your body where it will be visible. If anyone asks you what the number means you will say, ‘i am being punished by my Master. This is the total of lashes so far.’

“If they ask any more questions you will repeat that and say NOTHING else.”

“Come here.”

she crawled to Him and He attached the end of a chain to the padlock that secured the one around her neck. The other end was locked to one of the feet of the claw-foot bathtub. Its length, she estimated, would allow her to just reach the toilet.

He stood, picking up the cane that she knew from experience was His most severe weapon.

“Stand and lean against the tub.”

she obeyed but knew that if she did not relieve herself she might lose control while being caned.

“please, Sir. May i be allowed to pee before You begin?”

“No.”

With His toe He pushed her feet back until she was on tiptoe, leaning against the tub with almost all her weight on her arms. It would NOT be an easy pose to hold.

“Count.” was all He said and He began.

Experience had taught her that it was better to not resist the pain, to not tense up with fear. Still, the first slash across the slave’s firm ass cheeks felt as if it had been struck with a piece of red hot steel.

It made her shudder with pain. Pain that flooded her body and conquered her consciousness. And yet…

And yet it sent a charge straight to the center of her being. she felt her clit twitch and her cunt grow quickly wet.

“One.” she breathed out.

The second blow followed immediately, on almost the exact same spot.

“Two.” she gasped.

The third came before she could even take a breath in. It cut just below her ass, right at the tops of her thighs. A very sensitive spot, and it forced a grunt from inside of her before she could moan out, “Three.”

Usually, when her Master whipped her He did so slowly, methodically. He let each blow soak in and work its painful magic on her. This time was quite different.

The blows came quickly. Relentlessly.

Allowing her no time between to gather herself or ready herself for the next.

she managed to gasp out the count, “Four.” “Five.” “Six.” “Seven.”

The pain grew unceasingly more intense. her arms quivered under her weight and her legs began to shake uncontrollably. The weals from the cane paralleled and crossed each other again and again.

It took every bit of her consciousness to keep up the count. she tried to focus on each number but her brain was being clouded by the pain.

At the number 24 she lost track, skipping it and saying “Twenty-five.”

Immediately she caught herself. she knew it was the wrong number but whether it was supposed to be 23, 24, or 26, she was not sure.

Of course He noticed. He tsked and sighed before speaking, “you know that is wrong, don’t you, slave?”

“y-y-yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.” she blurted.

“Well, you know what that means, don’t you?”

“yes Sir,” she said resignedly, “we have to start over.”

“Ask Me nicely,” He ordered.

Taking a deep breath and feeling her eyes growing wet with tears, she asked gently, “Please, Master. Will You start my punishment again? i promise i won’t lose track this time.”

He crossed from her left side to the right so that the cane’s brutal tip would at least land on her other cheek. He did not wait. He began immediately.

This time she managed to hold focus, counting every blow as it came in rapid staccato.

By the time He reached 30 her entire existence was centered on the count.

Feeling a warm liquid running down her thighs she was not sure if it was blood, sweat, or her copious pussy juices.

In fact, it was none of these. It was her over-filled bladder that she had lost track of in her haze and stopped clamping down on.

Only when she felt Him place her clothes around and under her feet did she understand.

“Get in the bathtub,” He ordered, “I don’t want your piss all over the rug.”

she tried to staunch the flow but only barely succeeded and the hot urine kept seeping down her legs. Once she was in the tub He ordered her to bend over and grab her ankles.

The instant she obeyed the cane whistled through the air and slashed against the now taut muscles stretched by her pose.

“31, Sir. Thank You.”

her Master recommenced the unceasing punishment, one blow following another and another and another. her skin was on fire, the ridges left by the cane crossing each other and landing right across the same line turned her skin red and then quickly dark with welling blood.

Still, she kept count, not missing a single number.

It was as if her body and mind had separated into two entities. One was focused on the number. It filled her consciousness. she saw each one as if in suspended in the space in her mind, bathed in the scarlet glow of the unceasing pain.

The other part, her flesh, was a receptacle for His pain.

As brutal as it was, it really did not matter. It was to serve her Master and that was enough.

And with every blow, the invisible chains that bound her to Him, grew even stronger.

Just as they did within Him.

It was on the seventy-second lash of the thin cane that it finally broke the skin.

The tip had landed at the very spot where four previous strikes had crossed and cut through. It was not deep nor wide, but it drew blood.

Through the haze of her excruciating punishment she was vaguely aware of the trickling sensation but dismissed it.

her body gleamed with sweat, the juices of her aroused cunt had soaked her labia and dripped down her smooth thighs, and she still felt where the pee had rivered down her legs. One more little bit of liquid was lost in it all.

Around the ninetieth she felt her eyes well up with tears. she had never cried from His pain. He had trained her well, taught her to internalize it and turn it into pleasure. But He had never caned her like this, fast and relentlessly.

So it confused her at first. But the tears came. Just as she counted, “One hundred, Sir. Thank You, Master.”

The tears surprised Him too. He had never drawn blood and He had never made her cry. He grabbed the hair at the back of her head and stood her up.

Staring deep into her beautiful dark eyes He read the mix of emotions there: surrender, suffering, dedication, and, most importantly, LOVE.

“Do I need to stop?” He asked.

This question brought shudders to her body and open sobbing. An overwhelming joy filled her, body, soul, and mind. she knew then that even though He was giving her the punishment she knew she deserved, her Master cared. It meant He loved her too.

“No, Master. Please don’t stop.”

From His pocket He pulled the leather cuffs that had wrapped her wrists so often. she didn’t need to be told and held her arms out for them.

she loved the feeling of them, the sense of security they gave her.

He joined them at her back and had her lay down in the tub on top of them.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” He said as He turned on the water.

The cold water. Switching on the hand-held shower and using her loofa He began to vigorously scrub her body. Adding soap to the scrubber He concentrated on her legs, getting them clean before rolling her over and tackling the beaten and tender flesh on the back of her body.

The cold water soothed the many marks which covered the back of her legs and her shapely ass but that was quickly countermanded by the coarse texture of the loofa.

Even with soap on it it was harsh against her wounds...

He savored her moans as He scrubbed her clean.

He quickly finished, rose, and lifted her roughly to her feet by the wrist cuffs.

He grabbed a towel and used it to vigorously dry her body until it glowed a lovely rouge.

Satisfied, He took her elbow and helped her from the tub and stepping back, enjoyed the sight of His marks on her sexy body.

He was tempted to take her right then and there but decided that He had to follow through on her punishment.

He tossed the towel on the floor and lowered her to her knees on it. she looked up at Him with adoration and surrender, her mouth open just slightly.

SO tempting...

But He restrained Himself and lowered her to the floor where she would spend the first of the many long nights of her punishment.

He retrieved her black fishnet tights from the pile of her clothes and used them to blindfold her.

"From here you can just reach the toilet if you need it and I'll put the water and food here by the tub."

From the foot of the stairs He turned and took a long look at His slave before turning off the light and going back upstairs.

Since even the slightest movement seemed to make contact between her bruised and beaten ass, her sleep was shallow but her dreams were more vivid than any she could remember. Mostly set in a cold stone-walled prison cell, she dreamt of being whipped and displayed by her Master and led around in public by the slave chain at her throat in wisps of clothing that did more to expose than hide and through which her brutally striped skin was clearly visible.

It all made her cunt and clit ache with desire and lust and

more than once she came close to achieving a spontaneous orgasm but even under Morpheus’ spell she would not cum without permission.

It was the smell of leather and its touch against her lips that stirred from her reverie the next morning. Before she was even awake she had already begun slavishly licking and kissing the bitter tasting leather of His boot, thinking at first that she was still dreaming.

All in all it was a sweet way to wake, she thought.

“I’m going to the store but before I do…”

He grabbed her under the arms and lifted her and placed those limbs over the side of tub with her back to it. In a position that required her to sit upright to hold on enough to breathe.

“Don’t move. And count.”

That was the first clue to what He had in mind and she squealed as the cane cut straight across her left nipple.

“One.”

The next cut across her belly and the third across the front of her thighs. Though they came steadily the pace was not as quick as the night before.

she counted each one as His cruel toy explored the exposed front of her body, not missing a beat. One or two came after a slight pause as she absorbed its sudden pain but she never lost track.

He ceased at 25, crouched down and removed her blindfold. she blinked her eyes at the sudden light and felt her heart take wing when He leaned in and kissed her deeply.

He helped her stand again and had her kneel on the towel that had been her bed and then took a marker from His pocket, raised her chin with a fingertip and wrote the numbers, 1, 2, and 5 on the side of her neck just below the corner of her jaw. It would be visible to anyone who looked at her and she knew it would provoke more than a few questions she would have to answer as He had ordered.

Putting the marker away He emptied a bag of wooden clothes pins on the floor without hesitating began to apply them to her breasts, her cunt lips, and her inner thighs. she quickly lost count of how many but knew the bag held more than 25 and He used every one.

Between the fresh whip marks and the sharply biting little bits of wood her entire body was consumed by pain. It filled her mind, pushed aside all other thoughts but one: that it served her Master. And that was all that mattered.

He sat her back up, the sudden movement adding to her suffering. He smiled at her soft moan.

And last, He moved her shackled hands from the back to the front of her body and gave her permission to clean up and eat while He stepped out but with the instruction that she be finished and waiting for Him on her knees when He returned.

With no more words He went back upstairs and she heard Him leave.

she hadn’t realized how hungry she was but she had not eaten since the previous afternoon. Considering what she had been required to go through it was probably best. she leant forward and scooped the rice into her mouth with her fingers, punctuating every few handfuls with a sip of water.

The plain rice was delicious and the water as sweet as wine. Its similarity to a prisoner’s fare was not lost on her. In fact it enhanced the feelings she had of being His prisoner and possession.

After she had slaked her hunger she rose to obey.

First, she forced aside the pain and went to the bathroom. It was not easy to relax enough to pee with the cruel bite of the clothespins on her labia and clit. And wiping after, she brushed against them more than a few a few times, sending brutal waves of pain through her middle.

Looking at herself in the mirror over the sink shocked her a little. she was a mess. Between the crying during the previous evening’s punishment and the night spent in His blindfold she looked like a sloppy raccoon.

It took a couple of soapy scourings before she got it all off.

Standing there, she looked deep into the reflection in the mirror, mentally examining the woman she saw there. The woman whose whipped breasts were decorated with so many clothespins that every breath brought pain.

That woman, whose tummy got gushy when her Master called her His ‘good girl,’ had already gone through more pain, torture, and public exhibition of her slavehood than she would have thought herself capable of enduring just a few months before.

That ‘good girl,’ who hadn’t been one, and who was happily suffering through her punishment for that error.

she turned her back and looked at the reflection of what the one hundred strokes of the cane had done to the smooth skin of her ass and thighs.

Given that the area still ached from that beating she shouldn’t have been surprised by what she saw but she was.

Much of her marked skin was black and blue. The many bruises had darkened to purple overnight.

In a couple of places she could see where He had drawn blood and it had dried in little rivulets.

she might have washed or likely just brushed them off. But she didn’t.

To this slave they were an earned badge of honor.

If her Master wanted to wipe them away, that would be His choice.

All of her body, all of her mind, all of her ample sexual skills were His property to do with as pleased Him.

she liked what she saw. An object. His ’thing.’ A belonging into which He could

pour anything He chose: pain, pleasure, desire, or craven lust.

With every twinge from her beaten breasts, her caned ass, or the over two dozen clothespins cruelly decorating her most sensitive flesh, she became more His.

her cunt was soaked at the very thought of it.

By the time her Master returned with the groceries she had washed the smeared make-up from her face and, since most of her make-up was upstairs in her bag, used what was handy around the sink to touch herself up.

It wasn’t really necessary. As He had told her (verbally and in a dozen non-verbal ways) more than a few times, her beauty needed no gilding.

He had intentionally taken His time since he’d returned and though it had felt like an eon to her, it was only about half an hour. He put away the groceries, filled new bowls with water and rice, and went to their bedroom and collected some cruel toys before taking it all downstairs.

He found her just as He wanted her, on her knees, head bowed with His riding crop in her hands as offering.

He had been thinking of her like this the entire time He’d been away. He lusted for her and it took all of His self control from taking her right then.

Instead He knelt down in front of her, caressed her cheek, and lifted her chin with His fingertip.

The adoration in her beautiful deep brown eyes made His cock twitch and harden even more. But more importantly it made His heart race.

Wrapping His strong arms around her He lifted her upright and hugged her tightly, fully aware of what His embrace would do to the clothespins decorating her sensitive tits.

His lips found hers and they kissed deeply, His mouth drinking the pain that washed through her.

Still holding her close with His left arm, with His right hand He explored the ends of the many clothespins.

Brushing along them, tugging on them, twisting them.

Each gesture sent shivers through her pain-wracked body that thrilled them both. He felt her pushing back toward Him, intentionally crushing the pins on her breasts against Him.

her tongue dancing in His mouth sent a constant expression of her suffering, of how much she loved suffering for Him, for her Master.

When at last He paused and pulled back to catch His breath she whispered, “Master, may i make a request?”

“What is it, slave?” He answered, His lips so close that they lightly touched hers as He spoke. As always, hearing Him address her with that word filled her heart and made all the wonderful pain recede from her consciousness.

“May i trade You 25 lashes for the honor of sucking Your beautiful cock?”

”It wouldn’t count against my punishment, of course.”

He had been fighting His desire for her already, His cock rock-hard and aching for her hungry mouth.

There was no doubt that she knew this. The passion of His kiss made that obvious. her request was just her way of offering more than the mouth that He already owned.

Picking up the nine-tailed black leather cat He rose before her and when their eyes met, He nodded. Eagerly she unbuttoned His tight jeans and with some difficulty, used her cuffed hands to work His stiff cock out of them.

Just as her hot, wet mouth closed on the head the nine thick black leather strands struck hard right between her shoulder blades.

It was exquisite. For both of them, it was exquisite.

For One it was a perfect melding of touch, of sight, of sound, of power.

For the other it was the mix of texture, taste, hearing, and of sudden, severe pain.

His slave’s mouth which had hungrily attacked His cock delivered a sensation that made, for a moment, standing difficult. The sight of those pink lips taking His cock in so deep and of the leather lashes splaying across her upper back were a work of art.

she had genuinely fallen in love with her Master’s cock. Its taste, its fragrance, its texture, its shape, its girth, and its hardness were all very familiar to her tongue. it knew every bump, every vein, every variation.

she loved the knowledge that its hardness was caused by her service and suffering.

The crack of the leather and the throaty moan in response, followed by the enthusiastic grunting sounds of her excitement, was an erotic symphony for Him.

The sharp, intense pain of the cat was of a very different nature than the excruciating bite of the clothespins on her nipples and breasts, on her labia and her clit. It pushed that pain back, into the recesses of her consciousness.

The entirety of her reality was His whip and His cock. her lips, cheeks, and tongue worked feverishly to excite Him, reveling in the knowledge that the more she did, the harder He’d whip her.

His world was the perfection of her oral pleasuring and His arm and hand. Every blow stirred her to new enthusiasm, elicited moans and groans and sighs. But no protests, no pleas for mercy.

He blistered her back from shoulders to hips with quickly reddening ridges of pain.

It was, in reality a loop. A circle that fed, and fed on, itself.

He fought to hold back His orgasm, savoring the effect of His lashes and wanting them to go on and on.

His slave’s cunt throbbed with her lust, her juices soaking it until she felt them run down her thighs. Every agonizing lash made her crave it more and more.

she longed to pull away just long enough to look up at her Master with an adoring look and say, “Thank You for Your pain, Master. Thank You SO much. Please, Sir… please whip me harder.”

But she had been too well trained to do so and could only show her gratitude by slavishly worshipping her Master’s cock in hopes that it would spur Him to do just that.

And He did. And with the other hand took a handful of her thick black hair and fucked her mouth hard, ramming His cock against the back of her throat. In submissive ecstasy, she relaxed and held her mouth wide to receive it.

Faster and faster, until it seemed that He was about to erupt deliciously into her mouth.

But, disappointingly, He denied her that lovely cum.

At the last second He pulled away and quickly pushed her down to the floor on her belly and mounted her from behind. The clothespins that decorated the front of her body in its most sensitive places were crushed against the thinly carpeted concrete floor by her weight and made much, much worse by the addition of her Master’s.

Without hesitation He pushed her down and thrust His cock into her sopping cunt. His hips and crotch pushed against the pins on her labia and clit with every thrust, each one sending waves of suffering through her and forcing animal-like grunts from somewhere deep inside His slave.

The heat from her freshly whipped back against His chest was its own source of arousal for Him. He fucked her hard, driving her down against the coarse carpeting, every thrust sending new waves of pain through her as the clothespins were crushed and twisted and pulled.

“you know where My cock is going next, don’t you, slave?” He asked.

“Yes, Master.”

His words were spoken matter-of-factly and punctuated by His thrusts. He grabbed a handful of her hair with His left hand and yanked her head up and back and with the right reached under her and found the clothespins on her breasts and teased them with His fingertips with a rhythm that matched His fucking.

Finding the one on her right nipple He pulled and twisted, sending a jolt through her right to her cunt, just as she had been conditioned to do. But in striking contrast, he tilted her head to the side and His lips found her right ear and earlobe and His hot breath sent a shiver through her all the way to her toes. He moved slowly down the side of her neck, breathing, nibbling, and gently kissing in a move that made her dizzy with the overwhelming mix of sensations.

“please, Master…” she asked throatily, “please pull them harder. Let me have all Your pain, Master. Please, Sir,” knowing exactly how much her words would excite Him.

When He suddenly removed His lovely cock from inside her she was surprised but did not have time to think about it when He then rolled her over onto her back, threw Himself onto her clothespin-covered front and rammed it back in,

His pubic bone lining up perfectly with the the wooden pin that gripped her already aching clit.

It seared her nerves with new levels of suffering and she might have cried out had not His mouth covered hers and His tongue attacked the inside of her mouth with excited lust.

His desire for her brushed the torment and torture aside. It still hurt. It hurt a great deal. But she welcomed it as His gift to her.

Still kissing her, He reached down with His right hand and summarily yanked the clothespin from her left nipple and immediately moved down and sucked it into His mouth. she shuddered at the sudden change in sensation.

It was worse. It was better. No, yes, it was worse.

His other hand snatched the one off her other nipple and followed that one too with His lips.

One by one He fingered each of the pins clamped onto her skin, twisted it hard and unceremoniously ripped it off, and attached His mouth to that spot.

The stimulation was continuous, each spot moving from pain to agony to throbbing agony to pleasure.

At last there was just one left, the one that pinched the slavegirl’s sensitive clitoris. He paused, moved back up her body and began to kiss her tenderly as He used the clothespin to tease her tender bud.

From the pile of toys He’d brought down and dumped on the floor He retrieved a vibrator. A fact she only discovered when it buzzed on and suddenly clattered loudly against wooden pin.

she almost erupted with orgasm right then but He knew her too well and moved the sex toy away. she wouldn’t have cum without permission of course but the sudden touch had brought her close.

Lifting her legs, He bent her over so that her toes touched the floor beside her head. Master and slave looked into each other’s eyes and both their gazes flamed with desire.

she felt Him press the tip of His cock against the opening and touching her clit directly with the vibrator began to slowly fuck her. In seconds, she felt the incipient orgasm building within her belly and already was having trouble holding it back.

Well-trained, she never came without getting permission. At first she had tried to game the arrangement by starting to beg before she was especially close to cumming.

she should have known better.

her Master was very observant and knew her body very well.

He knew the shuddering of her thigh muscles, the quickening of her breath, the dilation of her pupils, the quiver in her voice that signaled her approach to the brink.

As her punishment He had not let her cum for a week.

He had fucked her, caned her, and whipped her. He had excited and aroused her, but forbidden her to have an orgasm.

He could not watch her every moment but He didn’t need to. The idea of directly disobeying her Master just no longer occurred to her.

“Master… i’m getting very close,” she whispered throatily.

“Hold it in,” He answered.

“yes, Sir… only when You tell me…” she sobbed.

He alternated between tugging and twisting the clothespin and touching it with the tip of the vibrator. A dance of pain and pleasure that soon had her gasping for breath.

“p-p-ple-e-ease, Master?” she begged, knowing how much her pleading aroused Him.

He watched her thrashing as she struggled to hold it back, enjoyed the shuddering of her body that the revealed the waves of sensation that coursed through her spasming flesh.

“p-p-ple-e…” was all she managed to get out.

Pushing His cock deep into her He felt it gripped by her cunt muscles until He too was having a hard time holding back His orgasm.

He smiled as her brow wrinkled in desperation, met her gaze with His and finally gave His consent, “Okay, slave. Cum now.”

As she let go the dam that held her release her inner muscles gripped His cock powerfully and at that second He yanked the final clothespin off sending new levels of pain into her clit. But He was not done.

At that moment He also pulled His cock free and without hesitation rammed it hard into the tight ring of muscle that sealed her ass. All the way in, in one long stroke. It felt like He was splitting her open.

It always hurt when He took her there but she had learned to accept it, to actually enjoy it. But this was very different.

The combination of sensations, the pain in her clit, the ecstasy of her orgasm, the sight of her Master’s face filled with pleasure, left her with no way to adjust to the feel of the hard cock that felt like it was tearing her open.

she became one with the pain, drank it in, used it to take her orgasm to a whole new level of sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced.

His sparkling eyes and loving smile were the last things she saw before swooning into a red-gray fugue of semi-consciousness.

He kept the vibrator on her clit until she no longer shook and shivered with orgasm and still fucked her hard and fast until He too came, His cum spurting deep in her bowels.

He stayed rammed all the way into His slave’s tight ring of muscle as His cock spasmed and twitched and spent its last bit of thick seed.

Looking down at His exhausted slave, her head lolled back and eyes rolled back into her head filled Him with pleasure and concern. Pleasure at the power of her orgasm but concern for her nonetheless.

He took her by the hair and pulled her face to His and she regained consciousness with His lips on hers and He felt her squeezing His cock with her sphincter in response.

They stayed locked together like that, His arms around her and His lips on hers as His cock slowly lost its hardness.

After some time and after they had regained their breath and composure, He released her cuffed wrists and ordered her to get up and run a bath for Him.

He lay there watching as she got up and obeyed, enjoying her curves, the bruises and marks that covered them, and the sheen of passion-stirred perspiration that still coated her body.

As the tub filled she took a pose kneeling alongside it. From His viewpoint she was like a houri, one of the seductive harem slaves used in an emir’s bathing room to wash and service her Master. Owning such property as this made Him feel wealthy in a way He had never felt before.

He rose and crossed to the big old claw-foot tub and put His foot in to test temperature. It was almost perfect. A little too hot but He knew the water would cool quickly in the cast iron so He stepped in and sat down.

“Wash Me.” He ordered, and by the way her face lit up it was clearly a welcome command.

“YES, Master!” she answered, rising from her knees. Though clearly still in pain from the various tortures she’d been put through, she quickly moved to obey.

Fetching a washcloth she lathered it up with soap and starting with His shoulders began to scrub His back. Somehow her touch was both gentle and loving and vigorous.

It didn’t take much before the special attention she paid to His cock brought about a response. she tried to hide her smile but failed, in fact she was grinning ear-to-ear as she took the shaft in her soapy hands and began to stroke its length.

Putting His hands in her armpits He pulled her into the tub with Him, splashing water on to the floor as He did so. The old tub was big but together they filled it which made moving none too easy

Without hesitation He grabbed a fistful of her thick black hair and pulled her mouth down to His erection.

It was covered still with the soap she had used to clean and restore it to its present state but she opened her lips wide to receive it. The taste was horrible but she resisted gagging on it by eagerly attacking it with her tongue and lips.

He used her hair to move her up and down on it, down all the way to the base.

The base that was partly below the surface of the sudsy water and forced her to hold her breath. He held her down but she did not struggle, she accepted that she would breathe when He chose.

she also knew that her Master cherished her and that though He would hurt her, He would not injure her. He pulled her up and let her gasp in some air before pushing her back down onto His cock until it rammed into the back of her throat.

He felt her body relax into His power, into His control. her tongue and cheeks still attacked His cock voraciously on each thrust but the rhythm she surrendered entirely to Him.

But even with the heat the Master and slave were generating, the thick cast iron of the tub sucked the heat out of the water and it quickly went from hot to to warm to tepid to lukewarm to cool and then cold.

Using her hair He guided her lips to His and enjoyed a nice long kiss before announcing that it was time to get of the quickly chilling water and get ready to go out.

“I want you to wear stuff that will show as many of your marks as possible,” He ordered.

she knew immediately what she would wear- a flimsy, see-through black blouse that would show off the stripes on her back and, to someone looking closely, the marks left by His clothespins, at least for a while.

For the area below her waist she was torn: she had a pair of tiny, shiny vinyl-covered hotpants that barely covered her ass and would show off her bruised and striped ass and upper thighs quite nicely.

(she imagined the comments they would evoke and got very wet)

But she hated the idea of covering her cunt in such a way that might make it less accessible to her Master. The shortest skirt she owned was a few inches longer than the shorts. It was pleated plaid like those worn by Catholic schoolgirls and she’d already experienced how it turned Him on.

The choice was up to Him but she hoped He’s tell her to wear the skirt sans bikini undies.

“Master? Can You help me decide?” she called from the living room.

“Of course, little one. Let Me see.”

she entered wearing the blouse and short shorts, pirouetted, and bent forward, showing off her back and its lovely stripes. And then turned her body away from Him to show off her legs’ numerous marks.

He couldn’t keep His hands off her luscious curves and His touch on the ridges of still tender flesh made her gasp. Yanking aside the shorts’ crotch He was able to slip His finger into her still-soaked cunt but just barely.

“What’s the other choice?” He asked, withdrawing His glistening finger and sucking off its sweet juices.

she scampered off and returned a few minutes later wearing the same top and the plaid skirt.

Performing the same moves, she bent over far enough that the skirt rose far enough to exhibit the edge of her now-dark bruises and her lack of underwear.

This time, instead of a single finger, He jammed three into her, twisting and turning and fucking her with them as He unbuttoned His fly.

He removed them, grabbed her hips and shoved His cock into her hungry depths. He thrust in and out a few times before withdrawing, turning her around and instructing, “Clean Me off.”

Hungrily, she attacked it with her tongue, licking every inch of its skin.

He noted and smiled at the fact that though still bent at the waist, her wrists unconsciously crossed at the small of her back as if cuffed.

she WAS a VERY good girl, He thought.

At the verge of deciding to spend the night in, torturing and fucking His sweet slave He pushed her away.

she pouted quite nicely.

“You might want to touch up your lipstick,” He told her. “And I want to go over your punishment number again.”

Looking into the mirror she smiled at the face she saw there. Lips swollen and the color smeared, her face glowing with lust. she looked at the number on her throat and wondered how long it would take someone to ask her about it and who it would be.

When ready, she presented herself to Him kneeling with the marker held out in offering. He took it and traced over the 1,2, and 5. It tickled but also sent a charge to her core.

And He took her into His arms and backed her hard against the wall next to the door for a long passionate kiss. He put His lips next to her ear and whispered, “you look amazing but I think you need one last thing. Well, 3 last things…”

In His hand he held 3 small but cruel metal clamps.. Instinctively, she knew where they were going and she shuddered at the thought.

“Thank You, Master.”

Well, she thought she knew…

Instead of lifting her shirt and putting them on her nipples, He bent down, lifted her skirt and put one just above her clitoris and the other two on her labia on either side of it.

They crushed her flesh, some of her most sensitive. But even worse they would be in constant stimulating contact with the area around her clit. Not close enough to get her off but just near enough to drive her crazy.

It was going to be a long night.

He smiled as He released the third clamp and He saw her body shudder.

It made His semi-hard cock twitch with lust.

For His slave it was a sudden sharp pain that quickly blended with that of the other two to fill her middle with an ache that transformed itself into a warm and wonderful glow. Yes, it still hurt. But the pain didn’t matter because it was from her Master.

It spread through her entire body and was transformed from sexual passion into an intense feeling of love.

This was exactly why she loved Him. He could be cruel but He was never mean.

Yes, He applied His creative nature to all aspects of their relationship. But it was in the realm of a slave and her Master, a Sadist and a masochist, that it really showed.

He constantly came up with new ways to torture her, to use her, and to let her serve Him.

It was, she had told a friend, like making love (or being fucked) twenty-four hours a day.

From the moment she woke, frequently still bound in some way, her flesh still tender from His abuse, until, her fatigue overcoming her pain, she drifted off, she felt attached to Him. The heavy chain He’d padlocked around her neck had at first seemed heavy. A perpetual reminder of her voluntary slavery.

But lately it had come to feel like a security blanket. Its weight was no longer that noticeable and fingering it

from time to time during her day gave her a wonderful sensation of security.

“Master…,” she whispered.

“Yes, slavegirl?”

“Before we leave… would you let me sit in your lap? And, um, just kiss you?”

He couldn’t refuse this request and sat back onto the old, leather-covered easy chair behind Him and opened His arms to her. Eagerly she all but leapt into His arms, clearly forgetting the welts and clamps her Master had bestowed on her.

She gasped the moment her ass, still covered with swollen stripes, made contact with His lap. He smiled.

“Were you forgetting something when you made that request?”

He pulled her into His body for a hug, all the while grinding the coarse fabric of His jeans against her sore skin. She made no effort to pull away and after a moment began squirming so as to join Him in enhancing the pain.

Taking a fistful of hair at the back of her head He drew her lips to His and shared a deeply passionate kiss.

As their tongues, teeth, and lips danced in each other’s mouths He slid His hand up the smooth skin between her thighs. At the slightest pressure from a finger she opened them to her Master.

Shuddering as His fingertips slid up the sensitive inside of her thighs she opened them further, thrilled at the prospect of the digits reaching her aroused and soaked pussy.

But they passed it up, instead going straight to the 3 cruel machines that crushed the flesh by her clit. Kissing her deeply, He drank in her pain as He touched and tugged and twisted them all.

For His slave it was no different than if He’d gone down on her with His tongue.

The first thought she had was how He had conditioned her body to the point that it no longer divided the sensations of pain and pleasure but immediately erased that idea with the one that it was the two of them, both her Master and herself, who had induced that transition. And she had learned that it was not just any random pain that aroused her.

It was only that which came from her Master. For Him, she would suffer gleefully.

And now, as His fingers teased the biting clamps, she felt the familiar waves of pleasure emanating from that center of pleasure. They washed over her and between that and His passionate tongue, she felt an orgasm quickly building. Fighting it back, she tried to channel it all into the kiss, but her body refused to cooperate and she was forced to pull her lips away from His to gasp, “p-p-please, Master… may i cum?”

As she suspected He would, He said, “No.”

The swollen and throbbing stripes on her ass could feel, even through the coarse thickness of His black jeans, her Master’s steadily growing erection. The excitation of His organ, she knew, was directly connected to her suffering and this too made her orgasm more pressing.

Again she whispered, “Master…please… I’m so close… it hurts…”

And tempted He was, but He too enjoyed the unique sensation of an orgasm denied. So with one last cruel twist of the clamp on the hood of her clit, He pushed her away and stood, dumping her tenderized rear on the floor. After a short whimper she looked up with a disappointed pout.

Laughing, He hooked a finger in the thick slave chain He’d locked on her throat months before and yanked her to her feet.

“It’s your fault, you know.”

Confused, she whispered, “what is, Master?”

“That I had to stop. If I hadn’t, we’d never have gotten out of here.”

Smiling she answered, “i’m sorry, Master…”

“You’re too damned sexy, you hot little cunt!”

“i’m sorry Master… i apologize… would You like to punish me for it?” she asked, grinning widely.

“Maybe later,” He answered, His warm smile making her belly flutter.

He pulled a Sharpie from his back pocket and lifting her chin, went over the numbers He’d written earlier.

_____________Flashback to their first sexual encounter____________

They worked at the place they’d met, an illegal after-hours club where they were quite well paid. He worked the door, looming there in His leather jacket with a cat o’nine tails prominently displayed in a leather holster on His belt. It made His tastes obvious to anyone and always brought to her mind that memorable and magical first sex with Him.

He had attracted her with the sight of it and for several hours described His

perverse sexual tastes. It may have been mostly unnecessary, but it also served to make her feel safe letting this stranger put her in bondage.

After accompanying Him driving friends to the airport she had accepted His invitation to crash at the cottage where He lived alone. He had given her a t-shirt to sleep in and shared His bed, but let her sleep, making no physical moves on her. This too added to her feeling of trust for what was about to be done to her.

in fact, it was she who made the first move. Laying beside him after their morning ablutions she cuddled close and pulling the sheets down, exposed His already rising cock.

With a glance up to measure the reaction in His eyes, wrapped her soft fingers around His erection and attacked it with all the skill she had acquired since her teens. Moving between His legs where she could better make eye contact. Seeing the fire of the passion she had inflamed, she had reached over and taken the cat o’nine tails from the pile of His clothes on a chair, held it up and paused just long enough to tell Him, “You can use this on me if you’d like…”

As her mouth closed again around the head of His cock it came down hard on her lower back. It didn’t make her cry out, it only made her suck harder and more vigorously. The second lash, even harder than the first, wrapped around the curve of her ass and just caught the tender skin of her inner thigh.

The lips wrapped His erection opened just enough to let out a gasping moan that He stifled by pushing her head down until His cock sealed off the sound at the back of her throat. He held her there and though she could not breathe, she made no effort to pull away.

When He finally let her go she pulled away just far enough to fill her lungs with air but almost immediately was back at her task.

His cock throbbed in her mouth, she noticed, with every blow of the leather cat and the harder she sucked and more she teased it with her tongue, the harder the blows came. It was her body more than her mind that connected them. At that moment she existed purely for the giving of pleasure.

It was a new sensation. One that seemed to set her soul free to just ‘be’ in that moment.

His whip and urgent erection combined to fill her consciousness. No longer did she think about the actions of her mouth or the pain that He vigorously inflicted on her as reward for her efforts.

It was a moment that would change her forever and the beginning for Him of an extreme exploration of His Sadistic Dominance.

It filled her soul with bliss and her cunt with copious damp.

Reaching down He grabbed the hem of the t-shirt He’d given her to sleep in and slid it up and when she paused just long enough to let Him, over her raised head and off.

He admired her lithe curves and the red welts that His leather had left on her skin.

He too had entered that ecstatic moment and it took concentration to hold His orgasm at bay. Finally, He pushed her roughly away, earning Him a disappointed pout.

Smiling, He explained, “you’re too fucking hot. I’m not ready to cum yet and another second of that mouth and I would have.”

“sorry…”

“Sorry, Sir.” He corrected.

With a twinkle in her eye that belied her words, she softly added, “sorry, Sir…”

“I know that’s a lie. you aren’t sorry at all. I’ll have to punish you for it later.”

With a big grin she looked up through her long dark lashes, and whispered, “Thank You, Sir.”

He took a pair of leather wrist cuffs from their hook on the wall and smiled as He saw that she did not need to be ordered to present her wrists and as soon as she was cuffed He spun her around and locked her wrists together with a spring clip.

For her, the sensation of the increased restriction was thrilling.

Testing them gently He found that her elbows could meet with no difficulty and soon they were bound tightly joined with another strap of leather. He didn’t hurry. He pulled her back against His body

and kissed the side of her neck, sending shivers through her body.

Straddling her legs with His own He pulled her back against His chest and wrapped His arms around her.

The position, with her bound arms stressed between them, was not comfortable but the pain was eased considerably by the touch of His hardness against her arms’ bare skin.

Combined with the feeling of His strong arms around her it made her feel very secure, very safe even though she knew He was going to make her suffer for Him.

His hands found her already stiff and quite sensitive nipples and for the first of what would become many, many times, pinched them between the knuckles of His thumb and forefinger. Unbidden, a moan escaped her throat and with His lips beside her left ear softly said, “Don’t fight it… let the pain enter you… fill you…”

Relaxing, she did her best to obey and almost immediately felt an almost electric jolt that went from her cruelly crushed nipples straight to her pussy.

Laying her head back against Him, she let herself become the receptacle for His sadistic desires. It was another of those feelings she had never experienced- a thrilling yet blissful melange of arousal, excitement, pain, and contentment.

“I know what you need…” He posited, picking up the mate to the strap that now bound her elbows. In short order it was wrapped around her throat with the buckle at the nape of her neck.

It felt good to her, it felt ‘right’ in a way she’d have trouble describing it.

He pulled it snug but rather than fastening the buckle He pulled it even tighter. It didn’t take much to cut off her air but it caught her off guard, in mid-breath. With His right hand holding the leather tightly against her throat and the left He slid her immobilized body, through the shining curls covering her mons, and into her sopping cunt. As He slipped a couple fingers into her slippery cave He also felt the protruding nub of her engorged clit and as He began to fuck her with the fingers He made sure to hit that organ with each thrust.

He wished He could see her face but had to make do with her body’s response to judge its response.

It shivered and shuddered in response to the overwhelming combination of stimulation and lack of air.

He had experience with novices and asked, “Did you forget the safe words?”

A slow shake of her head told Him she hadn’t. But as much as she wanted to obey, her body had other ideas and when it grew desperate for air began to spasm and convulse. He could feel the orgasm building in her, racing against the need for oxygen in her chest and, sensing that she was about to erupt, He suddenly released the collar and took away the fingers that had brought her so close. So very, very close.

Between her gasps He could hear her soft moans of disappointment.

“you will not cum without My permission,” He told her, His voice stern enough to make it clear that this was an order.

As soon as she had caught her breath, she whispered, “Yes, Sir. i will not cum without Your permission.”

He smiled. It was clear she had slipped into a ’sub space’, that special place where a submissive moves out of their thoughtful state into a place where the mix of endorphins, dopamine and serotonin creates a fugue.

They are aware of pain, aware of pleasure, aware of their surrender, obedience, and submission to a Dominant, hyper-aware of everything and at peace with it all.

In an almost hypnotic trance she watched Him take the shiny metal from the drawer next to the bed, hold it its rubber tips alongside her left nipple and release its cruel grip onto the sensitive bud.

Only when it crushed the engorged flesh did it get through the ecstatic fog and even as it was sending waves of pain through her she watched Him add its twin to the other nipple.

This was not His first sub and though she had been tied up a couple of times before, nothing had prepared her for this sort of intensity. For a long time she had fantasized about being taken and ravaged or kidnapped and thrown into a cell where she was used as a fuck-toy but this was much more than those innocent daydreams.

As they had flirted through the course of the night He had explained that is could only be consensual, about the submissive using safe words to be in control, and how pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin.

At the time it had served the purpose He had intended: to inflame her imagination and let that arouse her body.

But as the second clamp was released, sending so much pain through her always sensitive breasts that she had difficulty breathing, she made a silent oath to herself- That no matter what He asked, she would obey. And, even more importantly, would not ever use His safe words.

(Only many years later, in 2025, long after they had gone their separate ways, would she share this with Him.)

Again He asked, as He watched the clamps work her body over and shudder it with torment, “Do you want to use a safe word?”

That she shook her head and whispered, “No Sir. No thank You.” thrilled Him as no lover ever had.

Hooking His feet over her legs He pulled them wide apart and held them there as He teased the tiny bits of nipple that squeezed through the brutal clamps.

Closing her eyes she let the pain take over and did not see Him retrieve the Wahl massage vibrator from beside the bed. Its loud buzzing startled her almost as much as the explosion of sensation as it came into contact with her swollen clit.

The moaning grunt that escaped her chest was bestial and her body reacted wildly. It took all of His strength to hold on to her as He moved the vibrator’s tip. Pushing it into her clit and then taking it away, moving it down into her dripping labia and back up as He tugged on the chain connecting the clamps.

“p-p-p-plea…please…” was all she was able to gasp out from behind the wall of sensation.

“What?” He asked, smiling at the difficulty of her response.

“p-please, Sir…please…may i cum…please?”

“No.” He answered, in a tone that brooked no disobedience.

Words were beyond her by then, only a nod showed that she would obey.

Closely He observed every response, every movement and every sound. He watched her grimace and her face become glistened with sweat as she fought to hold back the release her body was demanding.

And just when He thought she was about to lose her battle… He took the pulsing machine away.

All of her body seemed to deflate. Still bound elbows and wrists at her back held her rigidly against Him and His ankles kept her legs apart, but the reaction to the denied orgasm was blatant.

“If you’re a good girl, I might let you cum… Are you going to be My good girl?”

“Yes Sir. i want to be Your good girl.”

Looking down at the shapely legs spread before Him was an arousing temptations.

“you have great legs…”

“Thank You, Sir. i’m glad You like them.” she whispered.

Putting aside the vibrator He picked up the leather cat and with its tips gently stroked the inside of her

right thigh. “I’ll bet they’re really sensitive…”

she shivered slightly, aware of what was ahead and said slightly louder, “Yes, Sir. They are very sensitive. Would You like to whip them?”

The question took Him by surprise but it did not slow His answer. He brought the nine thick leather tails down hard on that invitingly exposed skin.

It was her turn to be surprised. Reflexively, her thighs jerked as if to close and she was happy that His strong legs were there to keep her in place.

Sucking in air to replace that which His whip had expelled with its sudden assault, managed to gasp out, “Thank you, Sir”

The angle at which He would have to whip her left thigh was different than the one where He’d just struck

and though it was not as hard as the first, several of the tails struck her on her swollen labia.

The lash startled her but the real surprise was the jolt of pleasure that accompanied the pain. It was almost as if He’d returned the vibrator to her clit. Lost in the jumble of confusing sensations she was unaware of her body arching and presenting her mons, and the cunt below it, to His whip.

But He wasn’t…

Two more lashes followed in the same pattern, adding nine more painful lines to each smooth thigh but the third was aimed at the sensitive spot where those thighs met.

And, when again she offered herself, He struck there again.

Under her breath, she hissed “Y-E-S-SSS…”

He watched closely and as soon as she relaxed, He whipped her again, harder this time than any of the others. It stole her breath for several long seconds but she did not withdraw her offered loins.

Turning the cat around, He used the studded handle as a dildo and without hesitation pushed it into her

soaked cunt.

Even as wet as she was, the studs around the hilt did not slide in easily. The handle’s sharp edges scraped against the walls of her vagina and as He shoved it in and pulled it out it rubbed roughly against her just-whipped labia. In response she pushed her tender pussy against every thrust.

“you’re a very good girl…,”He whispered beside her ear. “Do you still want to cum?”

It was a simple response: “Thank You, Sir… yes, Sir, i would like to cum” but though she could picture them, her mind at that moment was overwhelmed by all that was happening to her.

The elbows joined at her back and pressed against Him and the feel of His hard cock on them, the dull ache of the clamps on her breasts, the tingling flesh of her recently whipped thighs and labia, and the continuing fucking with the whip handle, all combined to scramble her brain sufficiently to rob her of her ability to speak. her mouth opened and close but the only sound that came out was a moaning sigh.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl I’m going to give you a chance to cum…”

The moan was slightly louder but no more coherent but she did manage to nod her agreement.

“It looks like you really like the whip on your pussy, right?”

Again, a nod was all she managed.

“I’m going to whip you there ten times. If you can make yourself cum, you have My permission to do so.”

she wanted to shout, “YES SIR…THANK YOU SIR!” but couldn’t find those words so she just grunted, “uh-huh” and nodded her affirmative acceptance.

With His left hand He tightened the clamps on her nipples as far as they would go and put the chain between her teeth.

“If you let go of this I won’t let you cum.”

“Mmm-hmm” was her reply.

He snaked His left index finger through the leather of her collar and used it to restrict her breathing just as He brought the cat’s nine thick leather tails down hard against her crotch.

“Count,” He ordered.

“uhn”

He made a note to train her to speak with something in her mouth if this one night stand lasted beyond this day.

The second lash was just as hard but instead of pain it brought a warm glow of pleasure that was centered on her cunt and flowed outward through her body, pushing aside all the other sensations and clearing her mind of its jumble of thoughts.

“doo”

Raising her hips, she offered her sex for His pain and was rewarded for it with a brutally hard third blow.

“hree”

Before the fourth, He paused, preferring to vary the tempo so that His subs could not predict the next one.

He savored the beauty of the body that was offered to Him. The smooth tanned skin, unusual for punk rockers in San Francisco, revealed her Orange County residence and that made it more difficult to see the exciting red lines of her whipping but that just told Him He’d have to whip her even harder.

To the pretty submissive with shining black hair and sparkling dark eyes which were half-closed as she tried to absorb His pain, the seconds waiting for the next lash seemed to drag on interminably.

He smiled as He watched her struggle to maintain the difficult pose. He could see her smooth belly and pubic mons start to tremble.

Tightening the leather collar until it cut off her breath He said firmly, “Don’t you dare lower yourself.”

His words were both distressing and exciting. The muscles in her abdomen were being called on to do something which was rarely demanded of them and they began to rebel in the form of a burning ache. But she wanted nothing more to excite Him with her obedience.

When He was sure she could not last two seconds more He released her collar and brought the nine tails down with all His against her presented pussy. Despite His tight hold on her she managed to almost fold in on herself in a futile attempt to coil into a fetal position like a wounded animal.

But she caught herself, stopped trying and said “h-f-o-ah.”

He was ready to repeat the blow with several more in rapid succession but paused when she spoke again.

“i’m so sah-y… i tried to stay ike at… i reah-y did. i’m sah-y, Sir….sah-y…”

The response, like that of a well-trained submissive, surprised Him. During their flirtations of the night before she had mentioned that she had tried bondage but it sounded like her lovers had just tied her up and fucked her, nothing more. This scene had tapped into something within her that had lain dormant until now.

“Do you have any idea how incredibly fuckable you are right now…?”

His words made her blush. A reaction which surprised her.

“hank You, Suh. i’m gwad you think tho.”

What the submissive girl did next so aroused Him that it made His cock ache.

Despite the protestations of every muscle in her midsection, she again raised her pudenda for His lash.

Blows five, six, and seven He delivered in rapid succession, again driving her ass down against His bed.

When she finally caught her breath she gasped out, “fi-e… si-s… se-hen…”

The soft folds of her labia felt as if He had burned off her pubic hair with a flame. But it was still as if the vibrator had been pressed against her clitoris. she was increasingly conscious of the hard cock that throbbed against her bound arms and the connection between its arousal and the strength of His blows.

“Pw… ease, Suh… huill You ake duh ast t-ree ev-hen hahda?”

He could tell she was struggling to communicate and still keep her teeth clenched on the nipple clamps’ chain but the message was clear. “Are you saying you want the last three even harder?”

Eagerly she nodded her head, “es. Suh… pwease.”

“Okay. And I want you to cum.”

With the tip of the forefinger on His left hand He tilted her chin up so that the cruel clamps stretched her nipples and tilting her head to the side breathed a hot kiss on the side of her neck that was almost enough to make her cum by itself. As His tongue and lips explored and teased along her jawline and then her ear lobe she shivered with pleasure.

It was this moment that His whip’s leather tails again found her loins. And as she had requested, it was with all His might. The groan that it provoked nearly cost her the chain she held in teeth.

“A-ay.” she counted.

“Only two more chances to cum. Think you’ll make it?” He asked, before pulling her head back even more and again kissing her neck.

“i- on’t kno…” she managed to gasp out.

“Let’s see how close you are…” He said with a smirk.

He used the butt end of the leather cat o’nine tails as a dildo and without hesitation twisted it into her.

After ramming it roughly in and out of her vagina a few times He withdrew and held it up by their faces. It was glistening with the copious juices of her pussy.

“It sure looks like you’re ready to cum.”

The assault on her center only served to drive her closer to orgasm.

The ninth blow came just a second later, and yes, it did bring her to the edge of the explosion she craved.

“ni..hn” she murmured.

“Okay. Just one more chance. Are you ready?”

Nodding her head in agreement she tried to relax and will the orgasm forth.

Smiling, the Sadist made her wait…

And wait…

And wait…

To the eager submissive it felt as if her throbbing clit was swelling with each slowly passing second and as if her puffy pussy lips were spreading as if offering the most sensitive inner tissues to the whip.

And it did feel that any touch, from finger to vibrator to leather lash, would at last push her over the precipice into the orgasm that she craved with every molecule of her being.

And still He waited.

“p…ease…” she finally begged.

“Please?” He teased, “Please what?”

“p-ease hwip me… p-ase, Suh.”

Tantalizingly, He slowly dragged the nine tips of leather along the burning red stripes on her thighs, coming close but just avoiding the hungry swollen lips and clit that craved any contact from Him. Either pleasure or pain, it didn’t matter to her by this point.

Several times He withdrew it, making her think the lash was imminent. He took the clamps’ chain from between her teeth and told her, “When I give you the tenth I’m going to pull these off. If you can, you have My permission to cum.”

And without waiting for her response He lashed her crotch and yanked the tight clamps from her nipples.

The sudden pain of the blood rushing back into her nipples and of the thick leather tails that splayed across groin drove the air from her lungs. It was as if her entire body was one giant pain receptor. The sensation filled every cubic inch of her for a moment and then focused on the center of her sex.

The orgasm seemed so close… so very close.

But try as she might, it would not come.

“Shit.” she complained.

“Aww, poor little fucktoy,” He whispered as He pushed her off His body onto the bed where she ended up face down.

For a moment she hoped it was a prelude to His fucking her and she raised her hips in offering.

But this day she would learn that He rarely acted in a predictable fashion. It was a trait of His Dominance to keep His subs off balance.

Rolling her back onto her elbows He took a moment to savor her beauty. Grabbing a fistful of her thick dark hair He turned her eyes to His and told her, “I want to fuck you so bad My cock aches.”

The look in her eyes showed confusion, she was unsure why He hesitated to just take her. All of her body was His for the taking and He surely knew it.

“The longer I wait, the hornier I get,” He explained, “and the hornier I get the more I want to torture you.

“It’s a vicious cycle… at least as far as you’re concerned.”

The smile on her face was warm and inviting, “Please, Sir… may I ask a favor?”

“Yes?”

“Will you please torture me some more?” she asked softly.

“Spread your legs as far as you can,” He commanded.

“I’m going to whip your cunt again but this time you cannot cum without permission.”

The idea was daunting but she was determined to obey, “Yes, Sir. Thank You, Sir.” she answered with a smile.

Spreading her legs He sat between them so that He could watch her expression while she was being whipped.

It was unsettling for her to meet His eyes, they blazed with His lust, and the submissive role she had so easily slipped into made her want to lower her gaze.

Raising the whip over His shoulder He instructed, “Look at Me.”

And at the moment their eyes met He brought the cat o’nine tails down between her legs.

His blue eyes flashed with desire and her deep brown ones reflected it back.

Without waiting he lashed her again and again and though she tried to meet His eyes, the pain made it all but impossible. The wispy curls of her pubic hair did nothing to soften the burning sting of the leather tails.

And in short order she was unable to maintain the pose He wanted, she began to twist and flinch before each blow.

Putting the whip aside He reached over to the drawer in His bedside table and withdrew a long piece of black fabric. Wrapped twice around her head it was opaque but He also ordered her to close her eyes knowing it would make her feel even more helpless.

Resuming His seat between her legs He again trailed the tips of the cat over her now tender skin, enjoying how its touch made her shiver.

After three quick blows He startled her by thrusting four fingers into her slick cave. The soaking wet cunt betrayed her arousal. “God, you’re fucking soaking!” He exclaimed as He fucked her with His hand.

A moaned agreement was her only acknowledgement but it spoke volumes.

He alternated between the whip and His hand, mixing up pain and pleasure in her scrambled brain until they became one inseparable sensation.

The submissive’s loins were on fire. It felt as if He was touching her with a glowing rod of heated iron. It hurt but it didn’t hurt. If she were asked, in the unlikely event that she was even able to formulate the words, she could not have described what she was feeling in anything resembling coherency.

The pain increased relentlessly but so too did her arousal.

When He finally paused it took her a long time to realize that He had stopped.

The loud buzzing sound barely made it through the crimson fog in her mind and she had no idea what it was even at the moment when the powerful vibrator touched the hood over her clitoris.

And in that moment she lost the battle.

The orgasm she had been ordered to hold back burst forth. It wracked her body, her clenched muscles lifting her off of His bed and twisting her body with seizure-like spasms.

His long digits re-entered her, finding and fingering her already sensitized anterior-spot.

The vibrator and His touch ignited a string of orgasms that were beyond counting and were more just one continuous one with varying levels of intensity.

It brought forth from her a sound that was more bestial than human.

But in time, the length of which she could not describe, the pleasure began to be more than she could stand.

He smiled as her mouth opened and closed as if trying to speak. The message she could not speak was transmitted instead by the vigorous shaking of her head.

The obvious distress of the Sadist’s victim only served to arouse Him. He varied the position and pressure of the vibrator against her labia, His fingers inside her worked vigorously on her a-spot and His hand stretched the walls of her spasming cunt in ways she had never before experienced.

But the inability to catch her breath, the relentless powerful sensations, and the nagging memory that she had not asked for or received permission before she came soon drove the pleasure away, transforming it into a form of agony she hadn’t known existed.

And for several long moments the spasming waves continued even though His hand and vibrator had moved away.

When she had at last caught her breath He spoke in a steady and serious tone, “you were told not to cum without permission but you disobeyed.”

His choice of words and tone clearly established their positions. Hearing them she felt ashamed. Not because of her wanton ways or the thrashing about that had accompanied what had been the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. But because she had failed Him.

It had only been less than a day since they had met but she was almost immediately drawn to Him. He exuded a strength that came from His experience as a Dominant and as they flirted in the club’s halls, she had to fight an urge to drop to her knees before Him. For a long time she had fantasized about giving in to her submissive urges, of surrendering to someone who could help her free herself to her dark desires to be a sex slave.

He was the epitome of a punk rocker, tall and slender with spiked black hair and blue eyes. His black leather jacket was decorated with chains and on His lapel were black and red buttons. The black one said I LIKE LEATHER and the other, a smaller red one said I LIKE GIRLS.

Even before He spoke they had made His sexual tastes quite apparent.

As they flirted over the course of several hours He had spent more time than He’d needed to explaining the attraction of BDSM, how it must be consensual, and how it was important to differentiate between causing pain and causing injury.

It was a relief to her to hear Him say it but by that time she had already decided that she could trust Him and was looking forward to being tied to His bed before the night was out.

And though not tied to His bed she was tied and laying on it. But when she should have been enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm she felt only remorse.

“i…i’m sorry… sorry, Sir. i tried, i really did…”

“Well, what do you think I should do about it?” He asked. The question was a lure, a way to get her to volunteer herself for what He next had in mind.

“i guess… i guess i should be punished…”

With no regard for the pain it would cause He rolled her over and unbound her elbows and wrists and untied the blindfold then He rolled her back. The bright light made her squint but that wasn’t why she could not meet His gaze.

With His left hand He held her chin and with His right he slapped her sharply across her cheek.

It wasn’t a cruel blow but it certainly got her attention.

“Look at Me,” He ordered.

With more than a little difficulty she raised her eyes to meet her Dominant’s stare.

“So you guess you should be punished for disobeying?

“So you guess you should be punished for breaking your agreement to not cum without My permission?”

His carefully chosen words and phrasing left her with only one option:

“i’m sorry Sir. i meant i should be punished”

“Good girl. Now ask Me politely so we can put this behind us.”

“Please, Sir… will you give me whatever punishment you think i deserve…,” her voice nearly cracked as she spoke but she managed to get the words, words that sounded strange coming from her lips, out to Him. A modern and generally assertive woman with a mind very much her own, had you asked her a day before if she could see herself saying such things, she would have scoffed at the idea.

But here, now, with Him, it seemed natural.

“I assume you’ve never been punished, correct?”

The nod she gave was insufficient.

“Speak up!”

“Yes, Sir… i have never been punished.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I am going to punish you. But when I am done it will be as if the mistake never happened. you will be completely forgiven.”

With a voice that teemed with gratitude she smiled and said, “Thank You, Sir.”

“But we have a problem.”

“Yes, Sir?” she answered hesitatingly.

“I was just getting ready to fuck you but now I have to put that aside and deal with this.”

There were no words from His lovely companion but He could see the shame she felt in her eyes and expression.

“I think it’s important that punishment not be confused with sexual play. It is intended as a deterrent.

“And though this is the first time, I intend to make sure you’re not ever tempted to use disobedience as a way to get disciplined for pleasure.

“It’s called ’topping from the bottom’ and I will not tolerate it.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank You for explaining it. Please… punish… me…” The words were given in a steady voice that demonstrated her willingness and readiness to accept whatever He might inflict.

“Okay. Get up.”

As He stood up she could not take her eyes off the lovely erection that had she not disobeyed would now be filling her cunt. As much as the threat of the pain she was about to experience, that thought made her very sorry for failing Him.

Having had her arms tied at the elbow and taking her weight had made them virtually useless and she needed the outstretched hand to get up.

“Here are My rules for punishments:

“There will be no bondage. I will put you into a position that I want. you will hold that pose while you are being punished. If you fail to hold it I will start over.

“Any punishments administered up to that time will not count. Do you understand?”

The penitent’s stomach knotted itself and made her glad she had not had breakfast.

“Yes, Sir. i will not move.”

“you will count each blow out loud and say, ’Thank You Sir. May i have another?’ Understand?”

The reality of what was about to happen weighed heavily on her. The whipping of her loins had been exciting but this was something else and in that moment decided that she would not cry.

“Yes, Sir. Thank You Sir… for punishing me.”

Noting that His sexy plaything was still a bit wobbly from her bondage, He pulled her to Him and while He held her body against His proceeded to roughly manipulate her shoulders and arms, forcing blood back into them and though it eased the ache also brought the pins and needles feeling with it.

It certainly hurt but also filled the girl with adoration and affection. He might be about to punish her severely but it was clear He also cared about her. she longed to lean into Him and hug Him but something told her that that would have to wait.

Stepping to one side He placed His hand between her shoulder blades, said “Bend over and grab your ankles.” and gently pushed her into the desired position.

“After each blow you are to give the number and say ‘Thank You, Sir. May i please have another?’ If you lose count or fail to thank Me for helping to train you to be more obedient, we start over.”

Unbidden, she said softly in a slightly quavering voice, “Thank You, Sir. i understand.”

Bending over He picked up His jeans and she could hear the unmistakable sound of the wide leather belt being pulled through its loops.

As a child, more than once but only when she had done something really bad, her parents had threatened her with a belt but they had never followed through with it. The 20 year-old woman was just thinking about the irony of it taking so long to happen when the belt made a soft ‘whoosh’ sound and wrapped it around the nice curves of her ass.

It hurt both more than she had expected and less than she had imagined. As she was pondering that concept He said, “you didn’t count or say thank you, so let Me start over” and lashed her again, this time even harder.

“Thank you, Sir!” she almost shouted before adding in a quieter tone, “One, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May i have another?”

He made her wait for the next. Watching the parallel red marks come alive through her tawny skin.

When it came it caught her off guard and her left knee flexed slightly before she caught herself.

“Two. Thank You, Sir. May i have another?”

“I saw your knee flinch. That will be the last time you move without paying a penalty.”

Swallowing deeply she answered, “Yes Sir, i’m sorry… it won’t happen again.”

His next words were emphasized with hard lashes of the leather strap:

“Make… sure… it… doesn’t!”

Unable to recite the credo in between the blows, she had no choice but to count them together so that they came out, “Threefourfivesix. Thank You, Sir. May i have another?”

He had intended to introduce her to two other of His discipline tools but when He paused to savor the lovely stripes on her even lovelier ass, He realized that He was hungry and hadn’t even had a first cup of coffee.

And, that He would have all day to finish her punishments…

Grabbing her thick black hair at the back of her head He stood her up, the sudden change causing her to stumble but His grip kept her on her feet. Bending over He picked up the jockey shorts He’d worn the the previous day, through a shift in the kitchen and a night of revelry. They were not soiled but reeked of His

sweat and toil.

Pushing her to the wall, He folded them over and held them at her eye level, pushed her nose and mouth against them and when she gasped for breath pushed them into her mouth and told her, “I’m going to make us some coffee and some breakfast. Don’t you dare let them fall.”

he pushed her face into the corner and as added punctuation, re-attached her wrist cuffs at her back and said, “Just so you’re not tempted to use your hands.”

It was a strange pose. Not difficult or painful, but it required her attention to keep the wadded underwear in place. The pheromone drenched cloth aroused her. It smelled of Him, reminded her of the flavor of His cock, and made her drip with lust.

As she stood there she assessed her body’s sensations- her ass tingled a little still from His belt, her nipples still ached a tiny bit from the clamps. The whipping of her inner thighs and cunt had left the strongest impression. The area was still quite sore and sensitive. It still hurt, but the pain only fed her arousal.

A couple of times gravity’s tug almost pulled His shorts away but she managed to catch them with her chin against the walls.

It gave her the feeling, one that she would come to be nicely familiar with, that even when He was not near her He was still using her, enjoying her.

The cottage was tiny, only 25’ feet long, so He was just a few feet away. But had the gulf been a mile she would still have that feeling.

A couple of times a bit of movement out of the corner of her right eye told her that He had peeked around the corner of the door and made sure she was still in the pose He had ordered. He shared the feeling that they were still having sex and the thought of her there, and of the ways He had enjoyed her body kept His unsated arousal at the fore of His mind.

Naked, with a still partially erect cock, He first made a pot of coffee and in short order its scent filled His home. He got the ingredients out to fix a large omelette for them to share: mushrooms, an onion, and some pepper jack cheese.

A professional cook, He had all the tools needed for a delicious breakfast. As the ingredients were sautéing He grated the cheese and whipped the eggs, laughing silently to Himself that they were not the only thing getting whipped today.

As soon as it was already, He divided the omelette onto two plates and with two cups of coffee He brought it all to the coffee table in the front room.

Returning to the bedroom to fetch His prize, He thought for a moment about having her crawl. But the food was hot and so, catching the underwear with one hand and a finger on the other through the steel ring on her collar turned her to face the room and lead her to the table. He uncuffed her hands and gestured for her to take a seat on the floor at the table as He sat on the room’s sofa. The hard surface under the carpet served to remind her of her recent punishment.

“Hope you like your coffee black. That’s how I drink it so I don’t have any milk.”

“That’s fine, Sir. No problem. i like it black.”

Hesitating for a moment, not sure of the protocol, she looked up at Him for direction.

“Go ahead, eat.”

The food, even had they not both been ravenous, was delicious.

Referring to the large festival of West Coast punk bands that they had volunteered to work at and had brought them together, He said, “The set-up for the shows doesn’t start until 6 and I’m not working today.”

The implication was clear- unless she had something to do they could spend hours indulging in this Sado-masochistic play. The idea of doing so excited her so much that she had trouble getting her next words out in a normal tone:

“i don’t have any plans… i can stay as long as you want me to…”

“Sir.”

He was pleased that she had added that last word.

“That’s good. I still haven’t finished your punishments.”

The ’s’ on the end of that last word was quite potent and caused her tummy to suddenly knot itself.

“Shall i wash the plates, Sir?” she offered, draining the last of her coffee.

“No they’ll wait. First, come here and suck My cock.”

Eagerly she turned and knelt before Him, glancing up for a second to catch the lust in His eyes, she took the hardening organ in her soft hand and fed it to her mouth. It appeared to Him that only one of her hungers had been satisfied.

Stroking Him she lavished kisses and wet licks on the shaft and head of the erection as it grew to its full length. Teasing under the glans with the tip of her tongue until she could feel the muscles spasming she waited as long as she thought could get away with before taking it into her mouth and pushing it to the back of her throat. Sucking a nice cock had always been a favorite activity but this time it seemed to transcend the usual enjoyment. The hard pulsing organ became her entire world, her entire reason for existence, the perfect symbol of her dedicated service to its Owner.

Not for a moment did she forget the feedback loop that existed between His pleasure and her pain. The coming punishments would be all the worse because of her lavishing so much attention on His cock. But those thoughts only prompted even more licking and sucking from her talented mouth.

It was a mental space she had fantasized about for some time. More than once she had offered her submission, asked a lover to tie her up, but none ever rose to the occasion.

They’d tie her up and fuck her, enjoy her kneeling to suck their cocks, but didn’t seem to catch on to the signals she was trying to send: “Take me. Use me. Treat me rough. Anything you want.”

But finally, and she’d had to go 450 miles north to find him, here was a Lover who was more than happy to accept the gift of her submission and establish His control.

Pausing for a moment with her lips just touching the saliva-slick head of His cock, she asked, “Sir, may i make a request?” in a voice that was louder and much less submissive than her previous remarks.

“you may,” He answered with a touch of tenderness.

“Will You please punish me now?”

“Is it making you nervous? afraid?”

“It’s not that Sir. It makes me sad to think i disappointed you and i want to pay for it.”

He had suggested that there might be less abuse if more people were into S&M. The submissive gets punished and then completely forgiven. The error no longer exists. It was an idea she found very appealing.

As much as He was enjoying her mouth servicing His cock He understood. And it was a vivid sign of her complete surrender and it thrilled Him.

Without prompting she added, “If you want you can double it… please, Sir…”

It was a daring offer and a deal He was more than happy to accept. Yanking her up by the leather collar He held her face close to His and when her gaze met His, slapped her left cheek sharply. The hurt that filled those dark brown eyes was instantaneous but disappeared when He pulled her close for a deep kiss.

Standing, He patted the coffee table and instructed, “Up here, on your hands and knees, facing that way,” pointing toward the window so that her ass would be towards the room.

He took the plates and cups and put them in the sink and went to His bedroom to fetch a paddle and a cane.

The paddle was originally a Kadima made for the beach ball volley game. It had twice the area and thickness of a ping pong paddle. And He had covered the surfaces with thick leather, one of which had a dozen half-inch holes that added a surprising amount of severity to its impact.

The cane had once been a fiberglas fishing rod. He had wrapped it with black electrical tape after a previous one had shredded on a previous submissive’s ass. It was thinner and more flexible than bamboo or wood and much more vicious. Much much more vicious… So much that He only ever used it for punishments.

Returning, He paused in the doorway to savor the lovely tableau before Him. Again He thought of dropping her punishment and just fucking her. But it seemed that she needed Him to follow through, needed to know that He was strong enough to take her, to control her, to possess her flagrant lusts.

Kneeling on the wood table, she waited, her stomach knotted and, though she tried to stifle it, her body trembling slightly. The mix of excitement and fear, of hesitation and enthusiasm, was almost more than she could handle. It took nearly all of her strength to keep her pose.

And yet, she was exactly where she wanted to be at that moment. In the hands of One she could give herself to, One who would appreciate the beauty of the gift of her total submission. Even though she was well aware that the next few moments of her life might be some its most painful, that was not what she was afraid of.

It was the idea that she might break down and fail Him in some way. All she craved was that she be worthy of His Dominance.

The touch of the leather paddle made her jump, its smooth cool leather against her skin was startling but soothing as He slid it over the skin of her firm shapely ass. A couple of times He lifted it, making her think its sting was imminent. But He was just toying with her, intensifying her anticipation until He could hear her breathing deeply. It was then that He asked, “Are you ready for your punishment?”

The words did not come easily, her throat and mouth were suddenly too dry to utter the words that seemed to flashing across her mind. But she swallowed and forced out, “yes Sir… please punish me, Sir…”

“you may grip the table with your hands and feet,” He told her and watched as she did so and braced for the first blow.

Only to feel instead the smooth leather sliding across her skin once more. He was patient and waited until He saw her relax and then quickly brought the paddle up and down on the curve of her left ass cheek. It was a brisk blow but it hurt. It hurt in a way that was completely new to her. Certainly, in her 21 years she had felt pain. Only recently she had endured a whipping of her pussy and thighs.

But this was something else entirely. The pain shot through her, clouding her brain and filling her body.

He saw her knuckles turn white as she gripped the table with her hands and the insides of her feet.

Fighting through the red haze of pain she took a breath and said clearly, “One. Thank You, Sir. May i have another?”

He had struck with the perforated leather side and watched as the skin around those circles quickly turned a pink that grew into a deeper red. Flipping the paddle around He struck the same cheek again.

Though He could see every muscle in her body tense, she still, with a full and steady voice, said, “Two. Thank You, Sir. May i have another?”

The moment that request ended His paddle came down on the other cheek, this time with the smooth side and when she gasped out, “Three. Thank You, Sir. May i have another?

The words had barely escaped her lips when he struck a forth time, this blow with the perforated side.

For the first time her voice faltered, coming out as half grunt and half words, “F-f-four…Sir, thank You…”

There were a couple of long moments before she remembered and added, “May i have…another?”

Before He continued He had a question He had long wanted the answer to: Which was worse: holed leather than flat or flat side than the perforated. “Which hurt more, left side or right?”

The question caught her by surprise, taking a few seconds to penetrate the haze of pain that clouded her mind. Trying to focus on the burning flesh of her quickly reddening ass, she considered the answer… but could not decide.

“i… i… don’t know. They both hurt. A lot.”

Unsatisfied, He told her, “I’m going to repeat both sides again and I want you to pay attention and tell Me which hurts more.”

“Yes, Sir…”

“You don’t have to count these or ask for another. Just focus on which hurts more.”

Desperate to please Him, she emptied her mind of everything except the still sore flesh of her rear end.

It was a good thing that He had told her not to count because the next four swats came so quickly that she would not have been able to. Repeating the alternating sides pattern of the first set they came onetwothreefour.

Again every muscle clenched and He could see her gripping the table. The only difference was that this time she felt her eyes well up with tears.

“Now tell Me. Which hurt more, left or right?”

Again, she was hard pressed to answer. “i’m sorry, Sir. They both hurt so much… so much…”

He could see her struggling, her chest heaving with deep breaths. Maybe there was no difference He thought.

Continuing, she added softly, “they hurt about the same but the pain was different…”

Kneeling down next to her He wrapped His arm across her shoulders and put His face close to hers, “you’re a very good girl, you know. Tell Me the difference.”

His words had a dramatic impact, she smiled and blinked the tears out of her eyes. “Yes Sir, thank You.

The right one was deeper… it went through me and made my whole body hurt at once.”

For the first time she met the intense gaze of the Man she was giving herself to. There she saw something that captivated her, that made her want to give all of her self, all that He might take. Pain, pleasure, obedience… anything.

“the right side hurt just as much but there was a sting in it afterwards… it felt like electricity on my skin.”

He was pleased and leaned in and kissed her. First on her cheekbone where He tasted the sweet flavor of her tears and then on her lips. Starting with a gentle kiss that quickly became deep and passionate.

With both His hands and arms He none-too-gently pulled her off the table and sat down so that she was suddenly on His naked lap. The well-paddled skin of her ass was still quite tender but the pain was nothing beside the touch of His erect cock that poked up through her legs.

Deftly He adjusted it so that it was pressed snugly up against the dark wet curls with its swollen head pressing firmly against her equally swollen clitoris. The touch of that smooth hot skin against her throbbing button was almost by itself enough to make her cum. But she fought that back down and concentrated on th tongue and lips that were dancing in her mouth.

Pulling back to take a breath He informed her, “That’s it. your punishment is finished and as far as I am concerned it is as if your disobedience never happened.”

Looking into His eyes she saw that He meant every word. And it thrilled her in an entirely new way.

“you took it like a very good girl. And do you know what happens to very good girls?”

“No, Sir… What happens to very good girls?” she whispered, her excitement making her nearly breathless.

“Good girls get fucked!” He answered with a smile.

It was more than enough to make her commit to herself to do what ever was required to hear Him use those two words to describe her again.

Taking her sensitive left nipple between the knuckle of His forefinger and His thumb, He crushed it as He thrust His tongue into her mouth. Releasing the nipple and moving it to His cock He pressed it between her wet swollen labia and lifted His hips to rub it against her already aching clit.

Pushing several fingers against her belly He asked, “Do you need to pee?”

Distracted by her punishment and over all excitement she hadn’t much noticed, but yes, there was a slight need there. “Not too bad, Sir. i can wait. Why?”

He forgave her impertinent curiosity and answered, “Because before I fuck you I am going to tie you to My bed and keep you there until we have to go to work on the show.”

This was hours away she knew and the thought of being imprisoned for that long only made her need to pee worse.

Still stroking her clit with the head of His cock He pressed harder against her bladder and whispered, “Maybe I should make you hold it and if you can’t, I’ll punish you again.”

“As you wish, Sir.”

That was a given. But He had suppressed His lust so long that His erection ached.

“Okay, go pee and wash up and meet Me in the bedroom.”

_______My message to Syn_______

That was our beginning and ideally, the first section of this story is exactly what should have happened when I caught her giving a blowjob to a coworker in the bathroom of the restaurant where we all worked.

But I was young and stupid and Synthia was my first 24/7 slave.

Here are my mistakes, most of which took me years to recognize:

First, I put myself in charge of all decisions. It sounds appealing but by doing so I’d removed the benefits of allowing her input to make the relationship work.

More than once she had asked me to really let go with my Sadism, I believe she wanted to feel the fear she’d felt early on and to spice up our relationship.

But I have always been a member of the “Safe. Sane. Consensual.” tribe and for me that meant staying in control of my desire to inflict pain without doing damage.

So, (and this took me decades to realize), I’m pretty sure her infidelity was an attempt to make me so angry I’d lose my temper and punish her as severely as she wanted.

But unfortunately she’d not taken into consideration that I had fallen deeply in love with her and felt quite hurt by her actions and it ended the relationship.

Almost 50 years later we still hold feelings for each other that cannot be assuaged because of her long marriage but I still fantasize about her.

I wrote all of this because I think she reads the stories here and hope she sees it as My apology.