0 comments/ 51889 views/ 5 favorites Disobedience By: mared She smiled, indulging in the cracking sound of flesh against stone. He'd been bad, she knew that, seen it with her very own eyes, deliberately fondling another in front of her. She knew he wouldn't understand the root of her anger, she never showed him that side of her before but tonight was different, tonight, and he needed to be taught. "W-what was that for?" his voice held the slight quiver of a scared rabbit. "Who was that?" she jerked her chin in the general direction of the other room where she'd pulled him from, her eyes furiously gazing at him, "And prey tell, What did you think you were doing?" "T-that... T-t-t-... Mistress, I...." The feeble voice trailed off into nothingness and he bowed his head. "I'm jealous boy, and I don't like feeling jealous. Now you will tell me who that filthy little whore you had your hands all over was." She tapped her foot, her hands clenching and opening. "I... Mistress...." "NOW BOY!" He shook, his brown eyes turning up to look into hers', holding something akin to true fear, "That was baby Ma'am. She's... she said... that...." "So a new little cunt walks into your life and you think you can neglect the collar that you wear about your neck and DISSOBEY direct orders given to you? I thought I taught you better than that." Jerking back against the wall he looked small, shaking her head she reached down picking up her duffle bag. "Mistre----" "Don't say another word, you will follow me, be silent and not look at anyone into the next room. Is that clear?" He nodded and bowed his head, shivering. She knew he loved it when she was forceful in her commands, in fact that's what she loved about him, his willingness to submit to her; but now it was different. The anger boiled deep within her. He directly disobeyed her commands for when they went out. He did not ask permission, even though he knew she would not grant it. This time her words held a bit of ice instead of the stern love they usually did. She hoped he could feel it. Turning she walked with a purpose into the room from which they came, the walls strewn with chains and whips, pictures of naked woman and men leashed and on their knees. The dungeon of the local club held a casual atmosphere that most did not have. Stopping in the middle of the room she let her eyes wonder around, passing over the couples walking about. She was trying to judge the best possible place to take him, somewhere that he could be chained for all to see, and see everything not just the back or front. That was the hardest part. Shaking her head a little she tilted her head up and smiled as she caught sight of the suspender bar just above her. Quickly her smile changed to one of dark pleasure. They would be perfect; it was in the middle of the room and light enough to draw everyone's attention. "Stop here boy." "Yes, Mistress." He halted behind her. Then he gasped a little as he once again realized that he broke another command. "I shall let that slid this time boy. Remember I want you silent, and if you do not comply, I will take out the gag." The shiver ran through his body so visibly that a near by Dominate stopped tilting his head. He sauntered forward a bit and paused so that he stood right beside her. Looking over her boy he whispered just barely into her ear... "Why Mistress Red, young Wallace looks ghastly afraid." "By rights he should, Master Robert." She couldn't help but grace him with a smile. Master Robert was well noted as one of the most sadistic yet gentle dominates that frequented the club. His hand could wield such pain or pleasure as one might want, ultimately turning the most horrible submissive into the most beautiful songstress they have ever heard. She hopped that he would be staying long enough to watch. "Oh and what has he done?" Master Robert spoke louder so that Wallace could hear, making sure to place a small glance in his direction. "Broken the cardinal command given to him when we come to these dungeon functions." "Oh heavens. I do hope you plan on administering something here." "Yes, of course, I must teach the boy, and for that I must do it here, where the command was broken. A private punishment would do nothing." He smiled at her then, lifting a finger to trace her right ivory cheek, then smooth back a stray auburn tress, "Hmm yes, and might I add you look lovely this evening." "Thank you," her smile graced him again as he turned to walk back to his sub, a lovely girl with manners and a mind like a hawk. Letting her smile fade away she turned back to him, narrowing her eyes, "Leesha." He groaned, there in public, groaned, it infuriated her more, causing her to reach out and slap his face soundly catching everyone's attention. "You dare to humiliate me, in front of my friends boy? I gave you a command and I expect You to do it. NOW LEESHA!" Startled he dropped to the ground, moving on hands and knees forward to her. Once right at her feet he rocked back to rest his butt on his heels, placing his palms on his thighs. Raising his chin up so that his collar was exposed to her the metal d-ring shining in the half-light. Before she could turn and grab her duffle she heard a feather light whisper, "Ma'am, Master sent me over to help you in anyway possible." It was Master Robert's little one, beautiful in her black leather collar and slave bells. Smiling she reached over and caressed a cheek. "Thank you little one, please could you get me the nylon leash from my duffle." She watched as the girl dipped then kneeled next to the duffle, carefully unzipping it. After a short rummage she arose with the item. Grabbing it Mistress Red turned around and snapped it into place, pulling Wallace's face toward her own, "Are you prepared for the punishment, or do you want to beg for my forgiveness?" His eyes turned up to hers with a whimper he moved forward even more. She let out an exasperated sigh and growled, "SPEAK" "M-Mistress, please, forgive this one, he did not mean to anger or disobey..." "What a pathetic excuse, do you really think me to believe that you did not want to fondle and fuck that little slut?" "M-Mistress...I.... didn't mean to disobey----" "But you completely forgot the rules I gave you before leaving the house tonight right. Boy you must learn that the rules I set forth are for your benefit. Did you even consider coming to ask me?" He bowed his head ashamed for the first time tonight, "No Mistress, this one didn't." "Then I believe your begging is over with boy." Wallace raised his eyes to her again; staring back she did not show him any mercy or forgiveness. It was time he learned what a true bitch she could be, by the end of tonight she was certain he wasn't going to be putting his hands on anything that they didn't belong on. "Stand boy." Yanking hard on his leash she brought him to his feet, his eyes watering a little from the loss of air for a moment. "Melinda, please hold this for me." She gave the end of the leash to Master Robert's sub and walked around behind Wallace, grabbing his hair pulling his head backwards. "I want you to feel every once of hate I have in me tonight, I want you screaming out for your own life. Maybe then I will consider bringing you along with me again on an outing. Do I make myself perfectly clear boy? Answer." "Yes Mistress." Releasing his hair she grabs his arms pulling them above his head with such force that it causes him to rock on his feet and whimper a bit. With a glance Master Robert stride forward lowering the suspender bar down, and offers over a pair of wrist restraints from her bag. Smiling evilly she takes them up, strapping them in place. Wallace's continued whimpering a drum beat to fuel her anger. "Will you help me lock him in place?" He question didn't need to be asked, Master Robert was already locking his fingers around one of the boy's wrists, slowly bringing it to the bar and attaching him, she doing the same with the other. Quietly she steps back gazing up. "Thank you Master Robert." "Anytime." "Milinda you may drop the leash. Thank you, you can go sit with your Master now." "A pleasure to serve you Ma'am." As the girl drops back into the shadows, Mistress Red turns her dark eyes upon her boy, taking in his body from stern to tail, the leather harness giving no hiding places to his naked body. She liked the way he looked in it, trim and cut well almost like an Adonis at the right times. She could hardly image him disobeying her at the club, but he had and now, now she had to figure out what to do with him. Tapping her bottom lip with her index finger she turns and walks to her duffle, grabbing up her crop, "Now boy, the thing is, pain is your forte, so it's hard for me to find something that would ring the truth of the punishment in." Wallace muffled a snort of laughter, which caused her to spin around and flex the crop. Whizzing through the air in landed with a resounding whap, across his skin. "OW" She growled low in her throat and let out three more whaps against his sides, driving the pain of the first away with harder strokes. "What did I say boy" the fourth stroke came down over his semi-stiff cock, which drew forth a loud scream from him. "Tell me what I commanded of you! Now boy." The fifth and sixth came down swiftly licking his balls with a harsh whapping sound. "I... ow.... Was ....OW... not to speak, Mi-sssssssssss-tress." The last came out with a hiss as the seventh stroke landed across his chest. "And what are you doing? Answer now!" An eighth stroke snapped across his face, just barely missing his left eye. "Speaking, Mistress." His knees buckled and he hung from the bar by his wrists. "Do you want me to gag you boy? Or will you refrain from your screaming?" she looked at him closely, her eyes taking in his form and the nice red welts rising from his penis and balls. He didn't answer, so she took that as a yes and glided back to her duffle. Reaching in she took out her favorite gag to use on him. It was a little wonderful leather device; light enough to not bite into the sides of ones mouth, but heavy enough to muffle the screams. The best feature on this gag though was the miniature dildo that was attached were the ball would be. It filled the whole mouth so that the person could not possibly slip the gag off. Turning she showed it to him, allowing him to speak one last time and decline the use of the gag, but he stayed silent and that was the only answer she needed as she sauntered around behind him. Yanking on his hair again, pulling his head back so as she could just slide the mouth piece between his lips and lock it down. Securing it with the tiny silver lock she coos, stroking his forehead. Leaning in she lets her breath just tickle his ear, "You know boy, this all could have been avoided if you learned to keep your hands off of the first available Punta that smiled at you." Shoving his head forward she rakes her nails down his back, hearing him try to shriek against the gag, laughing as she watches a little tiny blood droplet form. Striding back to her duffle she bends into the task of setting out her toys, with intent to make him learn obedience. When each instrument is lain out with proper care, her hands slowly moves over them, her fingers caressing the leather, latex and metal, her mind getting a mental picture of the boy with each being applied to him. Before long, her fingers stop, lying over the bulldog clamps. Tiny things they are, they pack a powerful bite, with teeth that dig into the skin. Picking them up she turns to her boy, eyeing him with a slow careful glance, her dark smile grew. Stepping to him she raises the clamps before his eyes, the small chain dangling from her fingers, her lips once more caressing his ears, "Mmm you like these don't you boy?" She felt his nod against her shoulder. Smiling more her fingers draw open one clamp, letting the teeth graze against his already puckered nipple, "Oh you would like them there wouldn't you?" again his nod of confirmation, his breath steadily gaining speed behind the leather. Carefully she tails the teeth down over his chest and then belly, "But boy, that's not where they're going... Would you like to know where they are going?" they were over his penis now, and still moving down around it. His gulp was audible to everyone. With a snap the clamp caught his tender right ball and latched into place making him jerk against his restraints and let out the most muffled scream she's ever heard. Quickly reaching down she latches the other to his left ball, her eyes never leaving his face. He jerked again and struggled whipping his body against the leather cuffs, his legs trying to close and brush off the little instruments of pain. To no avail though, because the more he struggled to get them off the tighter they became. Grinning her hands reach behind her and pull up the slapper. Deftly she applies five good whaps to his balls, hitting the clamps without thought, watching him writhe, his face white with pain. Five slaps later she exchanged the instrument for another, a long rod with a glass ball at the end. Again she showed it to him, watching his eyes widen with fear as to where she was going to apply it. This was his favorite toy as well, now it was going to be used to teach him, she liked the irony. Flicking the switch, the humming filled a now totally silent room. Waving it before his eyes once more she brings it down to run just barely over his belly, "You like this don't you boy?" He nodded but with a muffled sound that could have been a yes. Stepping away from him she lets the wand glide over his belly, letting it stimulate him before lifting it away and bringing it down on his balls. The shock the wand sent coursed through his body very visibly causing him to scream out against the gag, balling his hands into fists. She could not have wanted a better reaction. "Is it your favorite still boy?" her words held a hot edge of malice. She watched his head nod a yes, and again she applied the glass ball to his calls, catching this time the clamps there. Pain racked through his eyes, and his legs clamped shut on her, causing the wand to press hard and jolt him again and again. Growling she pulls the toy back to her, switching it off, setting it down. In one step she was there, her hand pulling his head back her breath hot and angry. "Open those legs boy." He didn't move, his breath was erratic against the gag, his eyes white around the edges, "DO as your told boy or else." He whimpered, shaking his head pulling his own hair tighter and tighter in her grasp. Snarling she tossed him aside, letting him slump in his cuffs. Angrily she strides to the wall, taking up two more restraints big enough to fit on his ankles. Gesturing to Master Robert, they both walk to Wallace. "Open your legs." Waiting with no response, Mistress Red kicked them open, getting a violent pleasure out of it. Once they are properly spread she and Master Robert secure him to the floor eyebolts. Stepping back she's surveys her boy spread eagle in the semi-darkness of the play dungeon, his balls a nice red, his face tear streaked and frightened. Tapping her lip once more her mind races for different ideas. Touching the little weight set she has... tracing her fingers over the cool metal she takes up the hundred gram, putting a little hook in it, she walks to him, kneeling. Raising his penis out of the way she hands the weight squarely from the middle of the chain, cooing as he hisses behind the gag. Standing she goes back to the table. Each moment that went by she could hear him breathing, heavily against the gag, it was loud in the still silent room, she felt the eyes of the other dungeon goers on her back, wondering what she would do next. It wasn't easy to administer a public punishment, to judge what would get peoples attention and what would make them turn away. She didn't want to offend anyone, but she did want to drive home the reason. Sighing slightly she reached out and picked up the four foot whip. Caressing its black braided surface she turned, fixing her eyes into an angry gaze upon him, "You don't like this do you boy?" His reaction was clear as day, the way his body jerked back, the creak of the leather, the white starting to rim around his eyes. She sighed and tapped it upon the palm of her hand, continuing to watch and she strode behind him. Her fingers just barely grazed his back. She took three steps back and judged the distance; her eyes took in the weight hanging the angle he was leaning to, everything... Raising the whip she flicked her wrist slightly feeling the tail whiz through the air and the soft crack against his flesh. "maaah" was all you could hear from behind the gag. She shook her head and again raised the whip. Stroke number two landed nicely, sounder than the first, leaving a bright red line horizontally across his skin. Relishing in the second groan he produced she flicked her wrist three more times in a row, leaving nothing to keep him from feeling the pain. She closed her eyes briefly as she let the last lash fall. Six was enough to have him limp forward, the weight handing from his testicals swinging painfully. Walking around to his front, she used the butt of the whip to lift his chin. The tears spilled down his cheeks, making him almost look innocent. It got to her, she wondered briefly if she should stop, wondered if she was driving it home a little too much but then shook her head, her auburn locks falling into her brown eyes. "No boy. You and I both know that I cannot stop," her whisper was for him only, she saw his slight nod and his eyes start to have a soft determination in them. "I'm very sorry for it hurts me a lot more than it is hurting you." Turning away she picks up the feather, bringing it forward running it all along his chest, watching him buckle with laughter. Keeping up her torture she reaches around and picks up a very small whip, and starts to lash it across his torso and thighs, pleased in hearing his choking gasping screams behind his gag. For fifteen minutes she kept up the on slot... watching him like a hawk, the turn of his body, every minute twist to get away from either instrument. She made sure that her whip never landed on a vital area of his body, that she didn't hurt him too badly. Each stroke puckered up along his skin. She watched, as his front became a latticework or red stripes. Slowing to a stop she sets the feather aside, taking a good look at his face, the tear streaks and pain evident. She flicks him two more times before setting the little whip down. Striding to her toy table again she takes up the serrated blade. Lifting it to the light she admires the shine. He cared for the blade, he cleaned it daily, making sure it was in top shape and sharp enough to give him the right amount of sting. Twisting it in the light she sighs, turning to him. Steadily walking forward she rests the cool metal against his reddened flesh, just drawing the tip down just barely touching him. Circling about him, she lets the blade bit deeper, the sharp tip digging in and drawing out a chorus of hisses. Every time his body jerked back she draw the blade a little deeper, watching with interest at the tiny droplets forming along the line left from her blade. Just as she reached his back a soft moan comes from the crowd, causing her to take her attention away from her boy, and fall directly upon a girl. Fair complexion, her sun yellow hair pulled into little pigtails. Dressed in a baby doll outfit of sheer pink, she looked radiant. Perky breasts, lush red lips, and eyes of the deepest blue; she was gorgeous, and at that moment she was fingering herself. Another soft moan escaped those lips of hers. Mistress Red could not believe it; in the midst of her punishment someone was getting delight, this someone rudely interrupting her. Disobedience She sat nude on her knees, angry eyes glaring at the hard wood floor. Her Master stood above her, his dangerous gaze boring into the back of her head. She had directly disobeyed his order, in front of his face and he was furious with her. Feeling neglected over the last few days she had began to deliberately disobey him in small ways but never had she so blatantly ignored one of her master’s requests. Earlier that day he had called his pet on his lunch break and requested that she be bathed and in position for him in front of the bed when he returned home from work that evening. He had told her that he would return at 6:30 and she agreed and said sweetly, “Good bye Sir.” That evening when he came home he found her, having fallen asleep after her bath, naked in his bed. He stood tall in the door way, staring at her for a moment before dropping his briefcase causing a loud “Smack!” against the floor. She woke, startled at the noise, looking over to him. The minute her eyes met his he could see the panic slide over her form. She sat up, her body flushing as she looked down and began shaking her head, “I’m so sorry, Sir. I am so very sorry… Please don’t be angry.” She could feel his glare boring into her. He was quiet for some time, allowing her to bask in the discomfort that rested thickly between them. Finally, he spoke to her, cold and hateful as he hissed, “On your knees in front of that fucking bed now…pet.” He seemed to spit the last word from his lips in disgust. She whimpered and moved quickly into position in front of the bed, lowering her head, eyes on the floorboards that rested uncomfortably under her knees. He slammed the door and she flinched, catching a gasp in her throat as she closed her eyes. He stood over her, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. “Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with? What kind of little game are you trying to play here, pet? Because I’m not interested in playing games with you, little one…” She began to shake slightly, anger building inside of her. She was willed and feisty, and at times he enjoyed that about her, but today she had made a dangerous mistake. He could see her anger and he only spoke more harshly at her. “I gave you a direct and simple order, even generously giving you a time I would return instead of making you sit there all day, and you blatantly disobey me? That’s a ballsy move, little one. Tell me, why? Why do you choose to make me punish you?” Unable to speak, tears sliding down her hot cheeks as she sat shaking. She didn’t answer because she couldn’t He moved quickly and pulled her hair, ripping her head back so she was forced to look at him, and his anger caused his voice to quiver slightly as he hissed, “Answer me, now” She cried, shaking hard as she fought hard against the paralysis of her fear, she narrowed her gaze on him and spat, “Honestly, I’m surprised this even caught your attention… Sir.” And on the final word she boldly smirked up at him. He began to laugh. He laughed in her face, shaking his head at her. “These are not your rules darling. Oh little one, what a stupid mistake you’ve made.” His reaction frightened her and she flinched, trying to squirm away. His hand still had a tight hold in her hair, as he sensed her try to move, he continued laughing as he pulled her up by her hair so that she stood before him. His eyes stared coldly in hers as the smile slid from his lips, he stared her down until he could feel her entire body tremble. He growled, his face pressed close to hers, “On the bed, on your knees…now pet.” She ran to the bed as his fingers released her hair and quickly got on her knees, thighs parted wide. He circled the bed, watching her. “Head pressed into the mattress, ass in the air… Now!” She jumped quickly into position, crying into the mattress that muffled her breathing. “Pull your chest to your legs, and wrap your arms around the back of them” Her neck bent in an extremely uncomfortable position as she hugged her legs, she felt him roughly latch the handcuffs on her hands, locking her there. “Move to the very end of the bed, keep your ass high” Her knees and shoulders worked back and fourth, moving her slowly until she reached the edge of the bed. He came up behind her and wrapped his tie around her head, working as a gag between her lips. Tears poured down her cheeks as she sobbed into the mattress and shook harder as she heard him remove his belt. “You will not even be allowed the pleasure of my hand to spank you, pet.” With that the thick leather belt stung across her exposed ass. The red stripe showing immediately on her creamy skin. He watched her ass tense as he spanked her , her body shaking as she bawled into the mattress. “What’s that darling? Are you ready to speak to me as a slave should speak to her Master?” She nodded, shaking uncontrollably as he untied the tie which gagged her. She nearly choked on her sobs as she spoke, “Yes Sir, please forgive your pet. Please forgive me Sir…Please, please, please.” Her hopeless voice begged him through tears as he laid the strap across her again and again. She felt as though she may faint from the dizzying pain, when finally the belt stopped. He admired the red welts across her pert ass, fingering them slightly and looking down at his sad pet he stared at her for some time. She trembled uncontrollably and sobbed as softly as she could, pressing her hot face into the comforter. She heard him leave, and cried harder, feeling scared and alone until finally he returned. She could hear him opening and suddenly her whole body as she felt something cool and tingly slide across her welts, her master whispering softly, “Shhh, darling. Shhh, this will make it feel better, little one.” Grateful tears cooled her burning cheeks as the salve was rubbed carefully over her welts. Finally she was uncuffed and instructed to move into position in front of her Master. Bowing before him, she could sense his hard member bulging in his pants. He reached down and took her hands in his and placed them on the side of his hips as he whispered, “With your teeth, pet.” She immediately went to the button on his slacks, unlatching it with her teeth before nosing the piece of fabric in front of his zipper over and pulling the zipper down with her teeth, leaning back and looking up at him with lovely brown eyes. “Push down my pants now, little one.” She swiftly latched her fingers at either side of his slacks and pulled them down, his cock bobbing free. He was so hard and stiff before her, her want suddenly overtook her. He took his cock in his hand, and moved the head over her lips and chin, smearing precum over her soft skin. He slid his free hand into her hair at the back of her head and forced himself into her lips. His hips bucked against her, forcing his cock deep into her throat as he fucked her. His hands held the back of her head steady as he could feel her throat constrict around the head of his cock as she fought gagging. He grunted and moaned as his big cock filled his pets lips, “You will obey your Master… You’re mine, little one… You’re all mine.” Closing her eyes tight she took every inch he gave her, craving his forgiveness and pleasure. She felt his whole body tense and with one final stroke he shot his cum deep in her throat, holding her head hard. He grunted and shivered as he filled her throat, moaning softly as he pulled her hair back, pulling his cock from her lips. She looked up at him with deeply apologetic eyes and he slid one of his fingers down her cheek, allowing her to nuzzle it gently. He took her hands in his and he sat down on the bed, laying her across his knees. His hands spreading her legs and fingering her wet sex as he whispered, “Will you continue to disobey your Master, pet?” She moaned as she felt his fingers pinching and rubbing her swollen throbbing clit, “No Sir. Never again Sir, I only wish to please you…” Satisfied, and aroused by her wetness he moved her so her back leaned against his chest, her head on his shoulder, and slid her dripping pussy on his cock. Her legs were spread wide, resting on either side of his as he began to push his cock deep inside of her tight little pussy. She pressed her face into his cheek, moaning softly, the tension of her pleasure building with each thrust, “I only want to please you, Sir… I only want to please you…” One hand grasped her breast, pinching her nipple, as the other went between her legs, softly spanking her clit as he fucked her. Spasms of pleasure slid up and down her body as she clenched her eyes shut tightly, fearing she could not take much more. He felt her discomfort and the tensing around his cock as she approached her orgasm, his slaps to her clit coming faster and harder, “Yes pet, you’re close aren’t you? Cum for me… I want to feel your juices slid down my cock, little one.” With that her head rolled away from him, her hips grinding down on him, his spankings causing her an intense orgasm. She cried out softly, her voice catching in her throat, as a shiver slid through her body. Her tight pussy spasming around his cock as he slowly and deliberately thrust himself deep inside of her. She whimpered softly as the pleasure slid deliriously through her taught body, her cum sliding down his cock, the sweet warm nectar coating his hard cock and balls. He slowed and finally slowed and stopped his thrusts, running his hands through her long dark hair, whispering, “Shhh, little one, be still. Good girl…You are forgiven, darling, shhh.” Disobedience My name is Margaret. I am 24 years old, I live in the south of England and I am married to a wonderful man. I was brought up in a conservative family and I was a virgin when I got married. I did not really think that I was unworldly, but my knowledge of sex in marriage did not prepare me for the reality. I knew that couples enjoyed doing other things than straightforward intercourse. For example I had heard of oral sex. I thought that meant that I might be expected to kiss my husband's penis and I expected to to be alright with that. Before we married, my husband and I discussed what sort of relationship we would have. He is ten years older than me, a very successful businessman and a large, strong, authoritative man. I expected a husband to be like my father has always been. The head of his household who is loving, caring and decisive. That is exactly what I got and before the ceremony I had agreed that ours would be a disciplined marriage. My husband explained that I would be punished if I failed to follow his rules and to keep the relationship clear in my mind I would receive a 'maintenance' spanking of 20 strokes of his hand on my bare bottom each week. The severity of any punishments would be dependent on the nature of my failing or disobedience, but there were to be clear rules. The instrument of punishment would be the hand, a leather flogger, his belt or a light cane. Punishment would most often be applied to my bottom, but in more serious circumstances, other permissible areas would be the breasts, thighs and vagina. Although I had been punished by my father on my bottom, I was rather taken aback by this and must have shown so by blushing, because at this point my husband explained that an adult woman should expect things to be different in the intimacies of marriage than the punishment of a daughter by her father. Of course this is right and when he went on to explain that the punishments would never in any circumstances draw blood or leave permanent marks I was reassured. I was happy to agree to these rules for marriage and even excited at the prospect. On our honeymoon my husband was gentle with me. Our love making was passionate and exciting. He gave me tremendous pleasure and introduced me to the extreme joy of multiple orgasms produced by his hands, tongue and penis. Once I was able to accommodate his large member inside me without discomfort, he told me that it was time to begin our journey of development of our lovemaking into the complete surrender of a wife to the pleasure of her husband. Exactly 7 days after our marriage the first Saturday had arrived for my maintenance. After a delightful lunch in our hotel we returned to our room where he told me to take of my clothes and take a shower. Dried and glowing with expectation and nervousness I returned to the bedroom where my naked husband gestured to me to take my position over his knees. He kissed me gently on the neck and the next thing I knew was a terrible stinging pain in my left buttock. I screamed and kicked out my feet in reflex action. I heard a harsh "keep still and quiet" before a second stroke hit me equally hard on my right buttock. I bit my lip and held myself rigid until on the sixth stroke I could contain it no longer and I cried out as my tears dropped from my face. As the next stroke came down I put my hand in the way and stopped it from fully completing its blow. He stopped and in a calm voice he told me to get off his knee and kneel before him. I did as instructed and my husband said. "For interfering in your maintenance you will receive two punishment strokes with my belt on your bottom. You punishment is lenient as this is your first spanking, but future transgressions will be dealt with more severely." He told me to place myself in a kneeling position with my bottom in the air and my forehead on the floor in the position that my father had told him I knew. With my tears blurring my vision, I did as I was told while he took his belt from the trousers on the bed. The two lashes on my sore bottom hurt beyond description. During my childhood my father had spanked me with his hand and even caned me when I had been especially naughty, but I now realised that my womanly duties would be much harder to bear. I was then made to get back onto my husband's knee and receive the remaining four strokes of his hand. This I did without further sound or movement. At the end of the maintenance my husband kissed me passionately and held me in a loving embrace. He told me that he loved me dearly and he believed that our marriage would be wonderful. Feelings of love swept over me in wave after wave as the fierce stinging in my bottom turned to heat and glow. I could feel that he was very aroused. He told me to kneel again and as I did so his hugely erect member seemed to fill the whole of my tearful vision. He told me to clasp my hands behind me and open my mouth. Taking a handful of my hair he positioned my head and drew my open mouth onto his penis until it filled my mouth fully. My husband gently explained to me that on this first occasion I should suck and lick his penis until he removed it. I was to use my mouth to stimulate him as much as I could. I must minister to his member as if I were worshipping it with all the devotion that I could raise. My aim was to be to love the presence of it in my mouth as much as I loved to kiss his mouth. I must desire to meet every possible want of the penis with my mouth as I desired to have it work my vagina to orgasm. He said that in the future he would ejaculate into my mouth and that my throat would receive it in the same way as my vagina, but on this first occasion I could just suck and lick. My mouth was stretched and my jaw ached as I worked feverishly to carry out these orders. All the time my mind was racing with the thoughts of what was to come. Could this really be possible? How could this huge thing get into my throat, and how could I possibly have it spurt into my mouth? Were these things normal and could I cope with them? While I worked my mouth as best I could my husband started to move my head back a forth a little from the hold he had on my hair. Soon he was groaning. He pulled my head away, threw me face down onto the bed and entered my vagina from behind. We both climaxed violently and the coolness of his belly against by scorching bottom was pure heaven. He started on a daily programme of oral training as soon as we returned home from the honeymoon. Each day after dinner in the evening, I removed all my clothes and knelt before him in his chair. I was instructed to undo his clothing and take his soft penis into my mouth. I then kissed, licked and sucked it until it became erect. At this stage my husband took my head and told me to clasp my hands behind my back. He moved my mouth up and down on him, telling me to continue using my tongue and sucking. He explained that he was going to push into my throat and when I felt the head of his penis there I must make a swallowing action to allow it to enter easily. He told me that I would gag at first, but with repeated effort I would be able to receive him fully. He tried two or three times on that first occasion, but my throat reacted violently each time causing me to cough and choke and bringing tears to my eyes. After about thirty minutes of this training, in which there were long periods of me being allowed to suck gently without my throat being tested, he said that he was ready to ejaculate. Not knowing at all what to expect I froze until my husband said "you may as well get used to the taste right away" and I knew that he was going to do it in my mouth. Even so, it was a great shock a few seconds later to feel his penis pulsating and for my mouth to be flooded with semen as he held my head firmly in place. I coughed and some of it splashed out from around my lips and onto his clothing. My husband lifted my head away. After telling me to look up with my mouth open so that he could see, he commanded me to swallow. I did so although I found it very difficult that first time. My mouth seemed full of stickiness and it would not go down easily. I was punished for soiling my husband's clothing, but he was not excessive due to my inexperience. After this lesson my husband provided me with a bendable rubber penis which I was to practice putting into my throat until I could do it without being sick. I practised each day while he was at work and with him in the evenings. Over the coming weeks I slowly managed to take him fully into my throat and to swallow his semen fully whether he chose to do it in my mouth or throat. The objective, as explained to me, was to make my mouth as readily usable for intercourse as my vagina and I am proud to say that we have achieved that objective. My husband now ejaculates into my mouth or throat at least once every day and he sometimes chooses for our intercourse to be entirely into my mouth, when he thrusts with just as much vigour as he might at the other end. However, this did not come easily or quickly and my failings during training resulted in a considerable number of punishments. During this period my chastisement was extended beyond my bottom. On three occasions my sensitive inner thighs were beaten with the flogger or belt and once the flogger was used on my breasts. My breast flogging was not really as painful as some of my other punishments, but I was frightened before it happened and rather worried whether it might cause any injury to me. I should not have had that worry because my husband assured me before our marriage that I would never be caused permanent injury and I know that he is knowledgeable and would never break his word. I must have more trust. The day following the breast flogging I had very clear stripes across them which were slightly raised. I wore a low topped tee shirt throughout the day as I did my work around the house. Seeing the stripes each time I passed a mirror gave me a little thrill. That day I really felt that I was owned by my husband and it made me feel safe and warm. When my husband came home from work I met him at the door as usual and kissed him. He then kissed the exposed part of each of my breasts before saying "if you wish to display yourself, do so properly. Remove your clothing now and remain naked until your marks are gone." I had to stay nude for three days. It is fortunate that my work is to keep the house and I had nearly enough shopping to get away without having to go out. Our house is quite well shielded from the outside world but even so I jumped each time the post came and kept well away from the windows. I ran out of some fresh vegetables which earned me a punishment. I had hoped that it might go unnoticed, but my husband is very particular and regular about his food requirements and that was hopeless really. Six months into our marriage I had come to really treasure the feel of my husband's penis in my mouth. I would lie in his lap for hours sometimes gently sucking and licking him. Occasionally he would ejaculate as a result of my efforts and I would swallow his semen. It was no longer difficult because I salivate in anticipation as soon as I feel his erection enlarging that little bit more and his penis beginning to pulse. The depth of my communion with my husband is very profound as I swallow his ejaculate. Not only does he feed me by earning our living, he does it directly from his own body. He is my provider in every way and I adore it. When he first told me to worship his penis I did not know what he meant or how to do it. Now I understand his wisdom. I worship it every day and it comforts me and provides for me. I spend every moment trying to make my oral massage more pleasurable and more satisfying for my husband. I yearn to give him the pleasure of orgasm as often and as gratifyingly as any woman ever could. He must never desire another mouth more than mine. This last emotion was reinforced for me one evening when we entertained a couple at our house. The man was a friend of my husband from his club. They have known each other since university. He is married to a woman who was also at university with both of them. She is very beautiful with grace and poise although being the same age as my husband she is, of course, older than me. My husband has not been married before, but I know that he has had women friends before me and will have had sexual experience. We have never discussed such things, and before this woman was in my house I had never given it much thought other than to be pleased that my husband was so skilled and authoritative in our love making. As we had dinner and relaxed over drinks I became aware of the intimacy between my husband and these three people. It was very likely that she would have been his sexual partner at some time. Was it straightforward intercourse, or has his penis been in her mouth? Had he done things with her that he had not done with me? Did she please him as much as I did; or better! By the time we went to bed I was feeling insecure and I have to admit that I was disliking her. I threw myself into our lovemaking, begging my husband to take me however he pleased. With inhibitions lowered by alcohol he responded powerfully and I am embarrassed as I think that the slaps and squeals must have been heard in our guest bedroom. I think that my husband sensed my ill ease because a few hours after our guests had left the next day he said that it was time for him to introduce me to a new form of intercourse for our lovemaking. Alternatively, her presence had caused him to remember something that he had done with her. If that was the case I would have to make sure that I did it well and that I gave him more pleasure from it than she could have done. What else could there be though? I would not have to wait too long to find out. I was instructed to bathe immediately after dinner and go to the bedroom. My husband came into the bedroom and undressed. He told me to kneel and I sucked him to erection as he told me what was to happen. He said that he was going to penetrate my bottom. My mind was filled with turmoil as much as my mouth was filled with him. Of course I knew that homosexual men did something of the kind, but it had never occurred to me that women did it. He was very large. How could it possibly go in? Surely it would hurt a great deal. I was in no position to ask and any way I would not dare to question. My husband drew my head away from him and told me to turn to the bed and kneel over the edge of it with my legs apart and my face on the bed. He began to rub something cold on my bottom hole and then slipped in a finger. It went in easily and as he moved it backwards and forwards it created a funny sensitive feeling. He put in a second finger and continued the rhythmic movement until he suddenly withdrew them and I felt the head of his penis pressed to me. He told me to relax and clasped my shoulders as he pushed against the sphincter muscle of my bottom. With a rush I opened and a few inches of him entered. I thought I would split and it was very painful. I cried out and he smacked my bottom. He started to move himself in and out of me and spanked me with both hands as he did so. After a little while the discomfort of the penetration decreased and my warmed up bottom lost some of its tension. He stopped spanking and rubbed my clitoris. Then he put his fingers inside my vagina to feel the movement of his penis. As he massaged my clitoris and vagina I relaxed more and more until I felt orgasm coming. Gradually I was overwhelmed and spasmed ecstatically. I felt him come deeper into me as I convulsed with a huge and wonderful orgasm. As my muscles clamped onto his fingers and penis deep inside me, he came to his orgasm too. I don't know whether I took him to his full length on that first occasion, but I felt incredibly stretched and I had diarrhoea a few hours later. He took me in the bottom about once a week after that and I came to be able to receive him easily after a period of time. Once I had become accustomed to this form or intercourse he didn't need to use the lubricant any more. either I would moisten him well with saliva or he would use my vagina before entering my bottom so he became slippery with my juices. He explained to me that he would never go into my vagina after my bottom because that could cause infection. As with our other lovemaking, what was difficult and uncomfortable at first is now easy and pleasurable. If my husband takes me anally while we are face to face and kissing, the movement of his body against my clitoris can bring me to orgasm without my vagina having ever been entered. Not long after my introduction to anal intercourse was the happiest time of my life when I became pregnant. By this time I was completely accustomed to my maintenance spankings which served to remind me of my role and my promises, but were not the painful experience they had been in the early days of our marriage. My husband explained that the routine would continue throughout the pregnancy, but as I became large he stopped taking me over his knee and allowed me to be spanked bending over and resting my hands on the bed. This worked very well. I took great care to avoid punishments as far as possible although a few were inevitable. Some were done quite safely on my bottom and I did have the belt and cane on my inner thighs. This was horribly painful, but presented no risk at all to me or the baby. We have a private doctor and the midwife was also arranged through this family practice used by my parents as well as us. This meant that I did not have to see a lot of different people during my pregnancy and we could rely on their discretion. Nevertheless, I did have marks sometimes when I was examined and although there was no mention of it I certainly felt self conscious. In the late stages of my pregnancy, my husband stopped taking me vaginally, but I continued to take him in the mouth each day and he would have my bottom whenever he chose. Close to the correct time I started to get contractions and I telephoned my husband, my mother and the doctor. It was arranged for my mother to take me into hospital where I was given a private room. My husband arrived in the late afternoon as soon as he was able to get away from his work. I was comfortable and we told him that I was not expected to deliver for some time, but I would be staying in hospital now until it happened. He asked my mother to leave us a lone for a few minutes and after ensuring that I was comfortable he had me take him in my mouth. I sucked him until he was hard and then he thrust into my throat. He ejaculated within a few minutes, much more quickly than he usually is, and I had a contraction just as he shot his semen into my throat. After calling in my mother, he then left us alone with instructions for the hospital to call him before the birth. My beautiful son David was born in the early hours of the next morning in the presence of my husband. It was a straight forward birth without complication and I was able to leave hospital in time for my next maintenance session. We never missed a day of my husband using my mouth. That gave me great comfort. I would have been concerned for him if I had not been available for his needs. After I had settled into motherhood and I was still nursing David, my husband drank from my breast one evening and after he had done that he said to me: "Your maintenance is no longer adequate to keep our marriage in the condition that it requires. Our son is the most precious thing in our lives, but you are not putting as much care and attention into our home and meeting my requirements as you did before he was born. You must learn to keep up your wifely duties whatever new responsibilities and loves enter your life. There will not be any increase in your spanking because that was agreed before we married and anything more severe is reserved for punishment. However, your surrender, and commitment to serve me in every way required, will be reinforced by you serving as my urinal. Just as I have drunk from you, you will drink from me. In your case it will be once each week on completion of your maintenance spanking." Disobedience "No, I can't", I screamed without a moment's thought. This was my first act of disobedience in our marriage and I knew instantly that I would have to be punished as I had never been before. But my fears were real and I had to explain that milk was a natural food, but urine is a waste product and surely I would become ill if I drank it. My husband explained patiently that I should recall that he had undertaken never to cause me permanent injury and he would not make me sick either. Urine is certainly waste, but coming from a healthy person it would do absolutely no harm. He said nothing more and told me to go and remove my clothing. I was belted and caned on the bottom and thighs and given a breast flogging. Breast punishment is delivered with me kneeling, facing a full length bedroom mirror. My hands are clasped behind me and my shoulders thrust back. In this way I can watch every stroke of the flogger coming and see the marks rise up on my breasts. On this occasion, as the tears rolled down my face, milk oozed from my nipples. When I fed David, his usually warm face felt cool against my burning breasts, but that was later. After the punishment I was instructed to stay where I was. I knelt there for about half an hour seeing my breasts change in colour and shape as the bruising settled. The initial thin, red lines spreading and going purple. Drops of milk fell to the carpet and made me worry about staining. At the end of this time my husband came and handed me a bunch of papers. He told me that I was to read those later and he took me to the computer where he showed me a video. It was an attractive American lady of about 40 who knelt before her husband, opened his trousers and took out his penis. She said "piss in my mouth please" and he did. Five times he filled her open mouth with urine and she swallowed it. She never spilled a drop. When he was finished she sucked him clean and rearranged his clothing before saying thank you. My husband told me that what I had seen had been done with an open mouth for the sake of it being obvious what was happening on video. In our case, I would be required to close my lips round his penis in the same way as I did when I sucked him. I would then be able to swallow continuously rather than him having to stop after each mouthful to allow me to swallow. I was sent away to read the documents which were accounts of people who drank their own urine for health reasons and others who drank urine from their partner as part of their relationship. There were also some medical tracts from specialist websites confirming that there were not any health risks in swallowing urine. There was even an account of an Arab Prince who only ever urinated into the mouth of a female servant. A girl was kept close by him wherever he went so that he would never be inconvenienced (dear me what an appropriate word!). After my punishment and receiving all this information I was deeply ashamed that I had disobeyed my husband. I still felt some repugnance at the thought of having urine in my mouth and stomach, but I had been terribly wrong to imagine that he would do this to me if it would do any harm. I went to the toilet and pee'd into my mouthwash glass. As I put it to my mouth I got the faint odour of fresh urine. I poured a little into my mouth and was oddly surprised my its tepid warmth. As I swallowed it there was very little taste other than slight saltiness. I finished the glass and washed it before going immediately to my husband in his study. I apologised for my disobedience and thanked him, not only for my punishment, but for indulging me by giving me so much information to set my mind at rest. Although it was not maintenance day I asked him if I could be his toilet right away. Having been such a poor wife I did not want him to have to wait before putting me into my proper place. He agreed and told me to go and kneel beside the toilet and wait for him. As this was my first time I may spill some or be unable to take it all and we did not want any mess on the floor did we. I had to wait a long time before he was ready. Soon after his soft penis was in my mouth, the urine started to flow. There was no smell of course, as there had been when I drank my own from a glass, but the salty, warm taste was much the same. To begin with, the flow was not very fast and I swallowed as it came, but it turned into what seemed like a torrent and I could not handle it. I coughed so his penis shot out of my mouth and I splattered urine all over his clothes. I was horrified as he turned and carried on into the toilet bowl. "Please don't waste it" I cried. "Just stop for a moment. I will try harder. I will be a good toilet for you. Please let me take all you have. I want to be your urinal all the time not just at maintenance. I want you to have the same choices as any Arab Prince." He ignored my desperate wailings, knowing that these were the stupid rantings of a wife who had failed to live up to her promise. He went to change his clothes and when I collected the wet ones for laundry I asked him if I could have my punishment for spoiling them. He wisely pointed out that I was already very sore from my punishment for disobedience and I had to stay in a fit state to look after our son and do my work. It was a Tuesday and my husband said that from Wednesday to Friday evening I would receive urinal training and I would have a belting for messing up his clothes and ranting stupidly. The number of strokes of the belt and where they were placed would depend on my progress with the urinal training. by Saturday I was expected to be able to perform my urinal duties to his full satisfaction at my maintenance. It was a very short training period, but I worked hard at it and by the time of my maintenance I received the full contents of his bladder without mishap. Apart from being his urinal in the training evenings, I fitted a piece of hose to the bathroom basin and practised swallowing from it with the tap on at gradually increasing flows. Now that I have been doing this duty for a long time I can take whatever my husband has to give me however much he may have had to drink or how long it has been since he relieved himself. As with my other marital duties, I am very proud of my urinal service and how effectively I complete it. This has brought me incredibly close to my husband and deepened my understanding of service more than I could ever have imagined before I got married. In a very real sense he is not only with me in spirit all the time, but he is actually physically inside me for every moment of my life. His sperm is in my stomach every day and his urine hydrates me every week. His love is with me and inside me for all of my life. My urinal duty is confined to maintenance except on one occasion not so long ago. We were at Dover when we had a couple of hours to wait before a ferry to France. My husband said that we would go for a walk on the famous white cliffs. They are very beautiful and we walked along them looking out over the chalk cliff face to the English Channel when I felt the need to relieve myself. I told my husband that we would have to find a café or something where I could use the toilet. He simply told me to take off my knickers and give them to him. When I had done that he told me to tuck my skirt into my belt. This was awful because we were completely in the open. There was not anybody nearby, but there were people on the cliffs. Lots of them were bird watchers with binoculars and telescopes. Of course I did as I was told, but my face was blushing fiercely. When I had done it he told me to squat down and he put his penis in my mouth. He urinated into me as I did the same onto the grass and he gazed around as if he were simply admiring our dramatic surroundings. I will never know if we were observed, but I had a terrible thrill from the possibility and I am sure that my husband must have enjoyed the thought as well. He let me put my skirt back in place when we were finished but he didn't give my knickers back. We spent the whole of the trip to France walking or sitting on the top deck of the ferry during a very windy crossing. We do not use artificial contraception and we do not intend to have another child for at least a further year, but our natural contraception is perfect so we can plan our family to meet our wishes. It is quite simply that my husband never ejaculates into my vagina unless we are planning that I should become pregnant. I swallow his semen most often, but he goes to completion when he is taking me anally. Recently this caused a problem when I went to sleep after our lovemaking and his semen leaked out from my bottom, staining the bed sheets. I was properly punished for my laziness in not preventing this. Since then my husband has said that it is no longer acceptable for him to leave his semen in my bottom. Apart from the leakage which occurred, he now thinks that I should digest all of his ejaculate rather than any of it being wasted in my bowel or on a tissue (or even the sheets!). As with my toilet duties, he took me to his computer and showed me a video to illustrate what would be required. The video, rather crudely entitled "ass2mouth", showed a very young woman who was probably barely out of her teens, being penetrated in the mouth and bottom simultaneously by two older men. Every few minutes the men exchanged positions until it ended with both men ejaculating into her mouth. My husband explained that bacteria contained in the bowel and rectum could cause infection if transferred to the vagina, but the digestive system was equipped to deal with this and no harm would occur from moving the penis directly from the anus to the mouth. He told me that the film makers liked to use a young woman, not only because she was pretty, but because it accentuates the presentation of submission that the men are about thirty years older than her and that there are two men using her at the same time. Most dramatically of all, for the woman to be required to accept the penises directly from her bottom to her mouth gives additional pleasure to the men (and, of course, the viewers of the video) to have a woman accept something that would be instinctively distasteful. Although the video was just a commercial product for which the woman was being paid, the nature of the power relationship and pleasure aspects could apply to us. He considered that it was time for me to accept this further duty to reinforce my surrender, to fulfil my pre-marriage promise to agree to my husband deciding how and when to have sex, and to increase his pleasure in our lovemaking. All of this sounded rational and reasonable enough. After all, if a young woman can do this for money with two unattractive strangers, I could obviously do it for my loving husband. And anyway, every new element that he had introduced in the past had become a positive and valuable part of our relationship that I could honestly say I enjoyed however doubtful I had been at the beginning. I am not a naturally rebellious person and I know the worth of our strong marriage in which I am safe, protected and loved. It was a couple of days from the announcement of the new arrangements that my husband started making love to me vaginally and then moved into my bottom. We were still face to face and he was kissing me with more passion than happens every time. As my excitement rose, I remembered the video and realised that he was not going to complete his orgasm in my bottom. The reality of what was to happen flooded my mind. I lost all enjoyment instantly and my husband must have noticed that I was not responding as I should. Suddenly he withdrew from me with a 'plop' and commanded "mouth" as he turned onto his back. I moved my head down towards him and he took my hair as he likes to. But then, as the head of his penis approached my lips I smelt, or imagined, a different odour than normal. I panicked, wriggled back and said "NO! I can't". He let go of my hair and I ran to the bathroom in tears. I was very frightened. I had left my husband needing relief and I had directly refused him. He had no warning that he would be rejected. What would this do to our marriage? How would I be punished? How would he relieve his tensions? What would happen next? The new rule had been set and I was bound by my promise to comply. My husband would not go back, but I did not know how I could obey against the reaction of my body. I crept out of the bathroom and returned to our bedroom. My husband was taking a shower in the en suite and I knelt outside it to await him. When my husband came out he sent me to bed in the spare bedroom with orders to present myself naked at 6 am. the following morning. I didn't sleep of course. As I knelt before him he said that I was going to receive ten strokes of the cane on my bottom right away. After that I was to write this account of our marriage which he would publish on the Internet. When the writing is complete I will receive a breast belting of at least ten strokes and a vaginal whipping with the flogger of a minimum of ten strokes. The breast and vagina punishment will increase by two strokes per day until the writing is complete. My writing duty is now done and it has taken me three days in between my normal work. I still have the pattern of a farm gate on each of my buttocks and I will receive eight strokes of the belt on each of my breasts tonight. Before that I have to go to the salon and have all of my pubic hair waxed off in preparation for my vagina whipping. That will be carried out one hour after the breast punishment. There is no doubt at all that my husband will be aroused after he has punished me. I think I can expect to have intercourse in my hot and swollen vagina, but what else I wonder? My husband has told me that readers will judge, and he will take account of any feedback he receives when he considers whether he is taking the right way in overcoming my disobedience and moulding the future development of my surrender. Disobedience Shanon lay on her Master's bed panting, a thin sheen of sweat covering her whole body. She wished he had tied her to something for the game, it would have made things easier. Almost an hour, maybe more, she couldn't tell and she didn't care. If James kept denying her she was going to... She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. "No, no, no." "I hope that wasn't directed at me." Master. Shanon's eyes opened experimentally not wanting to meet his gaze. She was angry at him, she'd hadn't done anything to deserve being tormented. She had been a good girl for him. An obedient little puppy. It wasn't fair but if she met his eyes she wouldn't be able to stay mad. Knowing what was coming Shanon closed her eyes more tightly. "Look at me," James ordered quietly. Shanon tried to shake her head and but it was too late, he was right in front of her. Her eyes peeked open. That was it, she was trapped like a mouse staring at a cobra. "You look angry," observed James. "I'm sorry." "Don't be," he slid his fingers across her cheek. "It's very cute to see you try and be defiant like that. You must really get off on being bad." "No! No, I want to be a good girl. Please stop. I'm going to..." "Stop? But I'm having so much fun. Don't you want me to have fun, pet?" "Yes." "Oh, good." He pressed a finger gently to her lips. "Now be quiet." James pulled on her nipples dragging a ragged sigh out of Shanon. Even when she hadn't spent over an hour being worked into a frenzy they were his favorite method of torturing her. A hard squeeze made a nice quick punishment, less rough play was a perfect way of rewarding good behavior. Going lower he started to finger her slowly, watching her squirm and try not to go over the edge. She was close already and several times he heard her start whimpering. For her part Shanon wanted to ask permission. She wanted to be allowed to beg. To hold onto his legs and grovel. Anything for release. Once in a while James left her alone completely. It was hard not to touch herself, even with Master right next to her She did genuinely want to be good but staying obedient was getting harder every time. Maybe if she was bad just once it would be okay. Master couldn't be that angry at her. Several minutes of toying with her later James decided it was time to prove his point to Shanon. He climbed on top of her and laced their finger together. "Now you're going to be disobedient." "I'm n--" She climaxed mid sentence as James pushed his way into her. It was involuntary, unexpected, heartbreaking even trying her hardest Shanon was too sensitive to hold back after an hour and a half of torment. Despairing tears welled up in Shanon's eyes. Failure wasn't something she was used to. When James finished Shanon rolled over and started crying. Bad. Bad. Bad. Stupid, disobedient dog. Master was going to hate her for not trying hard enough. Bad girl. A strong hand rolled her onto her back. James studied her face quietly. He felt guilty for making her cry. It had been cruel, perhaps excessively so. But it demonstrated a point he wanted to make. Besides, she looked so vulnerable curled up into a ball. He rubbed her head comfortingly. Shanon tried to turn away again but he stopped her. In response she pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face with them. Brushing some hair away James whispered in her ear. "Look at me, pet." Her head rose slightly. "What have we learned?" "That I can't follow orders." James frowned. "No. I cheated. You're not in trouble" "But..." Shanon's eyes brightened slightly. Not in trouble. The words made her feel better, however slightly. "But nothing. That little bit of self-control you think you have is an illusion. I know how you react, my little puppy. When it comes right down to it I can make you do just about whatever I like. Try to keep that in mind. Even if you're naughty or defiant in the end you will do what I want. Always." Shanon shrank inwardly. She knew all that but it was different to hear it spelled out for her. At least it was over, she understood what he was trying to say. Shanon cuddled up next to him. It had been a long day. "Go to sleep, puppy," James whispered. Shanon curled up contentedly and drifted off into a dream just as the lights went out. -------------------- This story is a continuation of One Little World. It is meant to stand alone but OLW does provide better context and characterization. Disobedience There she was, just as she'd told him. At the bar of the hotel. He presumed she had initially been waiting on a table for the two of them, though now it seemed that she was either encouraging or fending off testosterone probes. He couldn't tell which from this distance. Probably very little difference which at some point. He stood and watched, waving off the hostess in her practiced approach. Giving her little notice. She appeared miffed as though she wasn't used to being ignored or disregarded after dressing in her best skirt and top. She turned to cleaning menus with a vengeance as though that had been her actual purpose all along. Through the sides of her lashes she watched him observe the woman at the bar. She'd taken the day off today. Not the hostess, the woman he was regarding. Taken the time to have her hair done, her nails polished, her outfit perfected. To his practiced eye, she was trying too hard. The dress was pushing her substantial curves up and out too hard and too far. She needed a greater subtlety in her attire and he was interested why she hadn't chosen with him in mind. At least, his likes. He presumed, as had been the case for several years now, that she chose and went through her daily life with him always in mind. Another probe joined the party and suddenly there were four guys surrounding her with a bartender hovering in the background in case things got out of hand and he would have opportunity to join in. After making eye contact with her, he moved to a chair in the corner where he sat to watch the show. She was spilling out of parts of the dress and he decided that it was bought and worn with just such as those clowns in mind. Each of them wondering if they would get a chance to drag her up onto the bar and put it to her right here in front of whoever might look over or walk in. The slit on the sides showed that her undergarment was either not present or a thong that rode well up on her hip. She favored the thongs, but it seemed that it may well be appropriate here for the former. She could be bare underneath and forming a puddle on the vinyl upholstery of the bar stool. The thought gave him some discomfort and he crossed his legs as a waitress came over, throwing a huffy look at the group in the corner as though they might notice and be chided for their play. The waitress exhibited her best features for him. She felt the need to throw herself at the only man in the room not taken up in the game. When his gaze moved only deferentially from the scene at the bar, the affronted drink monger thrust her chest out as if to make claim to the better of the two if he were only to compare then left to get his wine with an air of annoyance. He didn't care about a waitress. If she were to go to all this trouble to make a show for him, the least he could do is watch. He settled back as she laughed a high tinkle that he rarely heard from her. She'd never been one of those women to lower her intelligence in order to get men to like her or want her company. Thus, the fake laugh was hardly ever used and he thought that he might have only heard it a couple times before. She had so few opportunities to be false with him. As if to punctuate this thought, she looked across the room at him. One of the testachaperone junkies moved his musculature over to blockade him and draw her eye back. She slid slightly to the left to give him back his view of her. His wine came and he paid with a callous wave of his hand. There was a tip left in there, but the waitress wanted paid with his attention. Instead, he sipped his wine as if to make certain it was the brand he ordered. It was interesting, he reflected, that the more she would move out into a social grouping, the more he would revert and introvert, back away and become impassioned observer. Oh, she knew. Designed this little scenario with just that in mind. He saw it clearly now. It wasn't her pleasure to see him with others, it was her pleasure for him to take her. To see her defiance, to calmly meet and punish her for it. He considered as he sipped, an appropriate punishment. It will have to fit the crime and have obviously taken some effort on his part. He believed that if something merited punishment, then in order for the lesson to be learned and carried forth, it certainly was worth the time and effort to make sure the measures taken were appropriate. His wine was fast disappearing as he thought of her being taken and trained as she tried to maintain herself within the confines of the bits of cloth she so boldly used to tease him now. And what of her blatant display of her charms? Placing herself in such a precarious position that at just a misfiring of hormone, she could be in danger of being dragged off to a slightly darker area or even as and where she is if that hormone should stab upward into the already overtaxed brains crowded around her. He wondered idly how she was managing to keep them all from pawing her now, it was a dry timbered forest she walked in, needing only a match to set the fields ablaze. She played a dangerous game here and the effect was certainly not lost on him. The dismal light of the room and the grimy reflection of the restaurant lighting gave a back room feel to the entire scene and he couldn't help but feel that she might well have taken things too far this time. Something she has often threatened to do. Such a free spirit, independent and strong willed. Thinking of herself so easily and willingly and others with such difficulty. She never sees how dangerous the world can be or how frightening it is for so many. She sees mainly her own pleasures. Until he came to her life. Suddenly there was an immovable force. A silent brutality that would meet her head on and cow her. Something she wanted so desperately, but could only gain with subversion of her own nature and need. Someone who wanted not her pleasure, but his own, through her. His predilection for her suffering, her uncertainty and hesitance, made her both crave more and fear getting it. Another sip and the waitress would be back displaying her wares for him. He swirled the contents of the glass instead and wondered if she was done. If she had made her point and was even now faltering in her moves, in her heart. Was she feeling the first trepidation for the punishment to come? Was she wondering what he would do for such transgression? For such obvious personal debasement? For placing herself in a position where she might be harmed? Just the situation that provokes him to impart those lessons to her she finds so irresistible? She gave another tinkly laugh. He wondered how so many of life's denizens moved through the waters of superficiality so easily. The weight of the atmosphere often dragged him down into seas of morosity and he would find movement sluggish and forced. He knew her able to move within the social boundaries of platitude, but also saw the part of her separate and estranged from all others. In a moment of anguished clarity, he saw himself as the one who forced her out of the herd. Culled her and broke her. He let lie the fact that she was already more than those surrounding her when he brought his own passion to bear upon her impressionable form. He would rue the day she lay broken before him and had chosen her for just such an impossibility. He drained his glass, waved off the mendicant hoping to flash her chest at him and have him give her sanctity. Justification. He wasn't in the mood to help her self esteem. Another laugh, lower this time. There would be a phasing out of the studs. She would move toward one, then another and create some confusion, but also a consolidation of those two against the others. Then she would move to the door with so little warning that only the quickest will be left working out how to get out with her. She always picks hotels because of the valet parking and that one remaining, quick on his feet but slow of mind, will be standing open mouthed at the curb as she drives off. He'll watch from across the street to be sure she makes it alone. "He looked like he could keep you in vices." Her grip threatened her cell phone. Her breath was sharp with the inhale. The air felt cold as it rushed in. When she replied, her voice wavered and sounded like a little girl's she'd heard somewhere. "There's only one vice left. You know that." She bit her lip. She'd have given and done anything to have sounded as sultry as she had in the bar. Smoky and sophisticated. "Have you been trying to run from that again?" He was taunting her now. Would he tell her what to expect? Would she have any idea what was to come? Some kind of hint to stop her knees from buckling and her legs from giving way. "Not running, no." Her voice squeaked this time. A high pitched forced sound so unlike her that she teared up. She hated that he made her feel like this. Made her body react in ways she never thought possible. "I'm following you now. You'll need to turn off the pike to the park." It always amazed her how cool and calm his voice would sound at times like these, when her own insides were shaking apart. Her stomach lurched. It was yet early. There would be couples out for an evening stroll. Heavy walkers swinging their arms in steadfast rhythm, earnest as the look on their faces and the bend of their arms punching the still air, making it move. Pushing it out of the way. There would be babies in prams and umbrella strollers. Cadillac infant urban assault vehicles with tiny precious cargo inside afraid to move or to jiggle the tank like structure of their encapsulated world. It would be busy everywhere there. She envisioned this was her punishment befitting her exhibitionism at the bar and her hands shook on the steering wheel so violently that the car tremored and tried to buck its lane assignment. "Right there." His voice insistent and reasonable. Her heart squirming and irrational. "just pull in and stop." The car obeyed before she did. She had frozen in panic. Her heart was pounding and her senses were floating away. A haze moved across her vision as she parked and secured the car. She gathered her purse and thoughts as best she could and tried to prepare for what he would have her do. He was at the window before she had fumbled her purse into her hands. She clawed at the door handle, loathe to keep him waiting and to make it worse for herself. He caught the door before it opened, held it firm, reached his hand in and took her by the hair. His kiss surprised her more than she could ever have believed and she felt a flood take her. Her thong soaked and fluids leaking out around it. All her shakiness, her fluster, her frustration melted into a great ball and flowed out where she sat. His lips toyed with hers, pulling one, then the other in and suckling it. When her tongue reached out, he took the tip in a grip and nipped the end of it. She gasped and he pressed his mouth over hers harder. The hand in her hair pulled and tugged and kept her from meeting his pressure. Kept his mouth dancing away and pushing in at his will and insistence. She was moaning feverishly and her panties felt as though they'd never dry again. He kept at her. All reason was gone and any hope for redemption. She would take back her provocation if he would only keep doing what he's doing now. She would be his pet, his perfect woman if he would only keep the kiss. His hand curling in her hair hinted at the finite nature of the embrace and she steeled herself for the end. His lips slid over hers, keeping them tingling and slippery. They were grasping back as best as she could without having her head free to move as she will. She only realized his lips were gone when she had been grasping air for several times. She very self consciously wished she hadn't looked like a fish but feared that was exactly how she looked. He was quite seriously watching her in her want. She'd brought this upon herself. He reminded himself that as much angst and fear she might show and feel, she wanted it. The full weight of his force and pleasure. She wanted him to be creative and demanding. To take all of her courage and strength. To test her to her fullest. He yanked her head back and she let out a throaty nervous giggle. He settled his lips where her neck stretched up into her ear. Just at the node there he set to nibbling while gripping her hair and stretching her to open the spot to his mouth. She was moaning and frozen still. Her trembling held in abeyance. In deference to the delicacy before him, her body held stiff. Her heart, though, ran rampant. Thrashed and beat itself against the cage where she kept it for him to come and take. "Leave your purse. Come with me." He was curt but his speech meant that his lips had stopped their work and she nearly cried for their return. Her fingers were shaky and she fumbled to set the purse on the floor of the car. When she stepped out, though, she was surprised to find her feet firm and measured. Was this how it felt to walk the gallows? She wondered. Steps set and defined as though that were all that was left to the doomed. She decided it was a good analogy. She'd done this to herself, dared his response. Now that she had it and feared it, she had no one to turn to or to blame. Sole responsibility brought something freeing and her step became almost buoyant. She would go to her punishment willingly and defiantly. She would brave his worst and even force him to be sincere. If she couldn't escape and couldn't plead or beg, she would hold her head high and challenge his every effort. Ahh, he enjoyed her. Watching her go through so many stages of acceptance and finally to so boldly stride forth, made his heart ache for her. That she had no idea what was in store for her made her all the more vulnerable for the bravery she showed now. She would be haughty and defiant. Resistant and unmanageable. She would try to shut herself down and off so she wouldn't feel so acutely. He smiled. Just the way he enjoyed her. Difficult and hardened. With a molten core waiting to explode. A volcano of emotion smoldering. He was about to fan the flames and throw fuel on top. She walked out to the trailhead and waited. She'd been here before. She faltered slightly as a jogger passed quickly, staring at her dress, it felt ridiculously small to her now. The slits up the side that exhibited bare thigh and the way it looked as though the bottom of her ass cheeks would show if she bent over too far seemed so far out of place that her insecurities were showing more than the amount of cleavage pushed up with her crossed arms. She dropped them to her sides nervously and failed to find anything to do with them that wasn't ungainly or awkward. She waited there as he strolled over. A mocking grin on his face. Something welled up inside her and she wanted nothing more than to just get it over with. If she stamped her foot, it wouldn't be as out of place as her pumps. She wondered how far he would make her walk in the heels and if she could take them off and just go barefoot. She assumed that part of the punishment is to be physically distraught before being publicly exhibited and humiliated. As she considered this, she realized he'd never humiliated her before and had actually gone out of his way not to. There was a respect and safety she felt with him that she'd never felt before with anyone, let alone a self proclaimed Dom. He caught up to her and captured her elbow in his fingers as she turned to stay ahead of him. He pulled her around and pressed her against the signboard, forcing his body into hers. She felt his muscles, his urgency and, at her soft underbelly, a hardness that had nothing to do with working out or pocket electronics. She'd begun to shake. He'd recognized it happening in her before she did. It was always like that. He knew. He always knew. "We're not going in there. I don't want to punish you, you know that." His voice was low and modulated. His most dangerous, she knew, and her mouth went dry all on its own. His hands were moving over her body and a woman walking by looked back at them as though scandalized. She would smirk at the walker if her mouth would move to her bidding. He took it between his lips again and she would have melted were she not sandwiched between the signpost and his body. A rock and a hard place. She almost giggled at the picture. "We're just stopping here to get a couple things straight." His voice had gone even quieter. Menacing if not for the gentle tone. "It's not a punishment, you know, not really. Oh, I know I've called it that before, but it's a lesson in fact. It's easier to say it as punishment when we talk of punishment and reward being equal and equally craved. It's actually a lesson I will help you with, though I know you crave the punishment you would get for your trespass and subsequent insubordination. I know you also need the reward I will give you for being good and taking your punishment well." Her head was shaking by itself and her mouth was moving a silent "No", with occasional anguished utterings. "No... No... No." Each one aloud punctuated with a whimper and a twitch of his crotch (where she stared in fascination). "No." The reality was beginning to press in on her now. "I had to decide what you were doing with your little charade, you know. What you wanted from me. Was it attention? Emotion?" His voice was silky and growing steadily quieter. "No." Her eyes couldn't let go of the tent in the front of his pants. How it jerked and strained with every moan from her. "Noooo." "I had thought I would bring you here and tie you to a tree just where you could be seen if someone really looked, but not so you were just out in the open. I could lift your dress and whip you there. Spank you with my belt." His voice grew husky telling her about his ideas. "Then, of course, I realized that it wouldn't really be a lesson to you, really, now would it?" She could only mutter "no..." Her mouth involuntarily added "please." It made her angry at herself. He hadn't even done anything to her yet and she was giving in. She tried to buck herself up a little. "Hmmpph." Before she could get herself all the way steeled, however, he shoved her back into the wood and smothered her body with his. Hands at the small of her back, teasing her bottom, mouth at her cheek while her hair swished back and forth with her head seeking purchase to take his lips again. He released her before she was ready. "No, a lesson has to be given in the same spirit as the subject. You put yourself in danger. It wasn't merely a public display. The bar was quietly lit and sparsely peopled. Those men could have taken you. Carried you to the back and had you or even forced you onto the bar, a table or the floor without caring who saw, knowing no one would step in for you." Her heart was falling. Now she feared what he had in mind. His face was no longer smug or taunting. It was stern and foreboding. She didn't have the vaguest notion what he was thinking when his features set like this. She wanted to plead with him, to show him how she had managed the ape boys well. Her mouth was too dry to make sound though her lips moved in a "no" motion. Her head punctuated the sound that couldn't come out with fervent back and forth movements. "You were trying to give me a gift and I appreciate it very much. You wanted to show how you want me. How others want you, but you have eyes for only me. A mouth that's all mine. Curves that know my hands best and skin that aches for me only. I appreciate it and enjoy it." His voice dropped. "But you put yourself in danger. And me. What would I do? Five on one? Should I get help and leave you to take what happens in the meantime, or jump in and scare them off but take a beating doing so? You placed both of us in a very precarious predicament and I think you need to be taught about that." He pressed his body into her, reached up and snapped a collar around her neck. He took her hand gently in his own as it reached up and it was some little time before she realized he was handing her something. "Put these on and follow me." Disobedience Before she turned he was nearly back at his jeep. She wanted to say "No." She wanted to say she's had enough. She wanted to call out and tell him "Please stop. Please, let's just go back to the house and I'll do everything you like and you can give me the massage I love and want and we'll make love. Gently, sweetly, with deep meaning and want and hope." Her mouth was too dry for words and her legs wouldn't obey her signals. In her hand she held the nipple rings he'd given her. "No." She whispered to them. He drove out to the gate of the park and waited. She'd been so sure of herself and so confident. He adored that in her. He delighted in the fiestiness and gumption. She made his chest swell when she marched right up to him and pushed close in a demand. He didn't let her close the gap, but drove off as soon as she motored up the drive. It seemed like a meandering route, but it wasn't possible to get there via direct road. He could see her frustration on her face in the mirror and feel it as a palpable link between them. The parking lot of a nondescript building sat swathed in deep shadows, advertising the mystery within. He could feel her nervousness from his vehicle as he parked and exited. He was at her door before she had turned the key off, opened the door, reached in, gripped her near wrist and cuffed it before she could gasp or pull away. Her nipples were clearly outlined in the low cut dress and told how she had hurriedly pushed the rings onto them. He grabbed the other hand, twining his fingers with hers as she flapped at him and tried to avoid the other cuff. Too late, she began a struggle for survival, to avoid mastery. He stood back and let her writhe and try to wrangle out of the bindings. They were solid cuffs, not made for the half hearted play of pseudo coupled declared Doms and their wishful wanters. She knew what the building housed. He'd threatened her with it. Teased her before. There were things inside and people there she didn't truly want to see. She believed in him. He told her he was Dom and sadistic, but he was in fact so very respectful and deliberate that she often forgot and saw him as a true love and a soul mate. Then there would come these times when she knew he was everything he said and more. The inside was dank. Not in feel, but in atmosphere. The temperature was actually dry and warm. But dank. The ring of regulars were sipping obligatory drinks and nibbling leftover peanuts or cheap rice crackers. It was measly. Meager. She saw the crowd there as hoping for a life that never could come. They were looking for a way through the very pain they profess to crave. One of them, an overlarge man without a sense of boundaries or control, was letting a vicious looking woman thread a needle through his skin. She thought she might cry. She knew that she deserved whatever he did to her now, but these scenes in her head came unbidden. Scenes where she was used by a string of depressive men in varying stages of impotence and violent for all that. She looked around just to see how many there might be. A quick count gave her twelve, only one of which met her eye with anything less than a leer. One of the ongoing discussions she has with him regards the D/s lifestyle and those that seek it. The merits of the poignant and desperate intimacy and the drawbacks of the mainstream confusion with violence and lack of boundaries/self. A single male of twelve present seemed outside of that bizarre circle. Oh, and him. She looked back at the one man who hadn't leered at her brought before them in cuffs and leather collar. He was appraising her, accepting her situation. Perhaps he was wondering what she had done for this. She raised her chin and cooled her gaze. It brought a twinkle into the stranger's eyes. Her cuffs were yanked and without preamble, she was led to the pit in the center of the room and her wrists secured to the hook that suspended there. She was suddenly fully conscious of her dress (at least the lack of cloth), her heels (overtall and too thin for support) and most of all the collar he'd put on her. Oh and the soaking wet thong that now rode up inside her butt cheeks and tugged at her groin. He did something at the side of her, out of vision that pulled her arms taut and brought her to the balls of her feet. His hand, now unusually rough for him, reached up and bared the right nipple, hard, encircled by the ring. A gasp escaped her. An involuntary protestation of her innocence followed it: "please." She had just a glimpse of several of the leerers moving for a closer view, one of them slavering drool from the corner of his mouth. It was becoming unreal that he would do this to her. She only kept from crying by first disbelieving it was happening, then by trusting that he would at least not show the same callous disregard for her personal safety as she had earlier in the evening. She sucked in a calming breath and brought the haughtiness back to her features. She had just met the eye of the non leering gentleman when the lash bit into her tender flesh. She whimpered and struggled. She writhed and squirmed. One after the other lashes struck her. Sharp and sudden, quick and striking. She recognized his favorite quirt as it left marks on her breast. She reduced to just whimpering when she tired and her wrists took the brunt of her slumped frame. Somewhere in her struggles, he'd bared the left breast and she found it far more sensitive, even as the right one scratched against her dress. The welts angry and tense where they pressed into the fabric. It may have been uncounted strokes, it may have been a mere ten each breast. He finished so suddenly that she felt a pang of loss. She opened her eyes and truly saw again, having faded off as her eyes closed. The leerers were closing in, obviously thinking she would be opened up to the audience now. There, over their heads was the twinkling eyes of the only other one who understood she was taken. His. For whatever he will do to her. Whatever he will give to her. As she came around now, she saw the overbright eyes of the vicious looking woman as she licked her lips and the delighted countenances of those who wished they were standing here, in her place, tied as she was, getting the whipping she deserved. She wished herself able to cover herself or to hold her dress down and at least show a struggle when he wrapped a belt around her waist to hold it up off her buttocks. The oglers eyes sank to her crotch without hesitation and stayed there – all but one set. Even the slash mouthed woman with the mean demeanor dropped her concern to the exposed thong covered sex. The belt felt dull and thudding at first. It must have been doubled. This time, she had enough wherewithall to count. At somewhere in the thirties, the timbre changed to a sharp sting. Now it was the tip that was striking her flesh, biting into the tender meat. She bit her lip and refused to cry out. She deserved this and she knew it. He finished and dropped her into a slump. His arm around her shoulders, he led her out the door. She had a vague idea of the leerers starting to follow and twinkle eyes stopping them. She was leaning heavily on him as they reached the parking lot. It had been a long night and she was glad for it to be over. At the car, he led her to the back seat, the first inkling she had that the night wasn't over. That she wasn't headed for the cuddling part. When he strokes her hair and holds her and lets her know how much he values her and wants her. She was so ready for that part that being shoved into the backseat, unable to keep from sprawling over the upholstery, bottom end up, made her cry out. He opened the other door, took her face in his hands and pushed his cock into her mouth. She took it greedily. He pushed it hard into her, making her gag and struggle to keep up. She nearly lost it when fingers dug into her rear and her sex was penetrated. One swift movement that shoved her throat to the base of his cock. A most satisfying groan and moan came from him and she shivered. The cock behind her filled her and shoved her throat up onto his. It was shoving harder and faster as she struggled and squirmed. "Don't you fucking dare take your pleasure from this." He said. She could only whimper and squeal. With those words, she felt the familiar stirring and pressure to orgasm. Her juices were pouring down her thighs and his member was throbbing in her mouth and throat, pulsing with a desire she felt intimately. A shudder wracked her and his fingers squeezed her cheeks. "Don't." His voice so quiet and beautifully threatening, she could have wept. And cum. She struggled against the wave that tried to engulf her. Worked to lessen the pressure of the hard length inside her. The more she squeezed or squirmed to one side or another, the more pressure she felt. She found herself unable to escape it. Unable to hide from it and the pounding increased tempo until she felt it in her ears. She squealed and shook and both cocks shot loads through her entire body. He wrapped hands in her hair and made her head stay up. His cock wasn't wilting a bit and she had a nightmare vision of cock after cock taking her just like this. Her eyes widened and she nearly cried again with the thought that he might do that to her. As though reading her mind, he said "You deserved this. You know that. This and more. Don't you?" She could only mutter assent around his thickening member. "Hmmmpph." "You should be ready to take them lined up around the block. You know they would, don't you? They'd love to get at this pretty ass and tight little pussy. They'd love to gag this beautiful throat and spray all over this gorgeous face. Next time you put yourself in danger like that, I'm not going to stop at one. Now clean his cock off and thank him properly for your nice lesson." He moved away and twinkle eyes moved in and kissed her lips firmly before shoving a semi hard member between them. She knew what was expected now and, on firm footing at last, she excelled. Her tongue delighting in the sensations, lips nibbling and needing more. There was a thick mushroom head on this one and she played with her food gleefully. A sense of freedom overwhelmed her. She felt such a reprieve, that everything was suddenly gorgeous and delicious. The moans coming from her benefactor sounded wonderful. There was a touch running over her buttocks that felt incredible. When it moved up her arms and undid one of the cuffs, her heart rose and she put even more into her work. His hands took her fingers and twined them with his own. Brought them down along her sides and locked them behind her back, just as fingers yanked her hair and pulled her mouth harder onto the rod she'd been cleaning. She twisted, but to no avail. Her wrists were locked together and she felt his distinctive touch as it ran onto her ass and squeezed. Her thighs were strapped with a belt as her buttocks were kneaded and her ankles followed suit. When his hardness entered her, she tried to scream through the cock ramming in the other end. The intensity completely took her and she feared that she would pass out when she came. "I haven't told you to cum." His gentle voice filled her and sent her shaking uncontrollably. He pulled out from her in another burst of agony and the cock in front blew up, sending gushes of volcanic liquid pumping past her tonsils. She swallowed over and over trying to clear her airway while the hands in her hair patted and soothed. She mouthed "Thank you" in breathless parody of sound, knowing it was expected and she would pay for not doing it. But also wanting to thank and meaning it. She was a huddled, quaking mass he pushed further onto the back seat without ceremony. "Thanks, John." His voice was casual and friendly. "I think the pleasure was mine." The eyes twinkled as they sought hers. She felt a dribble out the corner of her mouth. "Though maybe not all." The closing door concussed her ears and she groaned. The vibration repeated on the other side. Twice. The car started and drove. She felt leaking down her legs in addition to the trickle at the corner of her lips, and the posture was going to be difficult to hold to on the corners. She feared falling, but feared more lying down without his okay. She feared asking him and suspected he wanted her to and didn't want to give him the satisfaction either. Could she be more torn? She feared leaking too much onto the upholstery. He took a sharp turn and decided it for her. She fell onto her side, facing the front of the car. Undoubtedly what he wanted as she could now see him and some idea of where they were headed by the corners of buildings and the shine of streetlamps. Both were thinning. They were headed out of town and her entire body felt lightened thinking of home. All too soon, however, he took a turn. It was dark, however, without lights for some time and she could only make out trees. He pulled the car over and she felt more than heard the crunch of dirt and gravel. The door was open before she was adjusted to the cessation of movement. Hands grabbed her and forced her up to her knees. He entered her quick and hard and it made her struggle with the baldness of it. She screamed with the first sharpness of penetration, then settled into a keening sound that she thought very unlike her. He thrust hard. There was no relief for her and she felt the familiar rush swooping over her heart and down towards her groin. "Don't you fucking dare." His voice was soft. It could have been a rustle of leaves overhead but for the words formed and dropping over her shoulders. She shivered. A full body tremor that threatened to turn into orgasm with his words. He abruptly pulled out with a groan and she felt his hot sperm spewing out over her bared ass. The car door closed again and this time she made no effort to change position. She felt the change in herself and knew that now she was ready to beg. Ready to give in to him. Completely and willingly. That there was never a doubt she was his, that there was never doubt that she would come to this place, who would know. That she has such a need to be overpowered and brought to this place on her hands and knees is the only doubt she has now. Couldn't there be another way? Something he could do to bring her to this need and absolute surrender without such brutality? Such force. She talks to others like her. Other subs. Some collared, some not. Some made to say "yes sir and no sir". Some who grovel and beg. She doubts their sincerity. She thinks ever "farce" when they talk of this. Yet, at this moment, she would do anything he demanded. Would she be brought here, to the same mindset if she started with humiliation and debasement first? Such harsh measures she has heard of and never experienced from him. She couldn't imagine it. She's always been proud and strong. If friends could see her at this moment, falling over on the seat, bound hand and foot, oozing fluids from every pore, they would be in utter disbelief. He looked at her, on her side now on the backseat and smiled a knowing smile. Gentle now. Or perhaps merely calculating. She'll never know him so well as he knows her every bit inside and out. She felt a drool of liquid move into the crack between her thighs. It would be unpleasant itching but for the knowledge of where it came from. She smiled. When he pulled into their drive, she had a twinge of apprehension that the neighbors would see her. They might wonder how she leaves the house looking like a hooker and comes back bound and trussed like a trophy. She nearly laughed aloud at the image. She needn't have worried. He left the car, opened the door and retrieved a blanket. He covered her sweetly and gathered her in his arms. She was safe now. At last. She might go through some more trials, perhaps a rough fucking, but she was safe. She let her smile loll and reached her lips for his soft kiss. Disobedience Listen to Shelly get punished the way she likes it. * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (11 min/mp3) * * * * * Disobedience and Grace Grace knelt on the bed with her long black hair in ringlets falling across her bare shoulders. The black satin top hung low across her arms and chest, leaving more seen than unseen as she leant forward onto all fours. The bed was soft and she lay down sprawled across it, leaning closer to where Cora sat on the chaise lounge. Her matching bloomers were edged with red lace, and it tickled her thighs as she played with the little drawstring that secured them. Cora sat with a little smile on her lips, watching the movement of Grace's fingers across the drawstring. "Stop teasing," Cora growled, crawling forward towards the bed, "and show me." "But, Cora!" Grace exhaled, dropping the drawstring. She pursed her lips into a small smile, trying her best to be calm, treating the whole affair with a sense of propriety. It was absurd, of course, to bring propriety into such a situation but learned behaviours were difficult to break. "Yes! Come now, Grace, and let me see!" Grace's pouted lips broke into a wide smile though her dark eyes squeezed shut, her cheeks blushing red in the heat of the small bedroom, and perhaps embarrassment. "Samuel will have my head if he ever finds out..." She continued, turning onto her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed. "You know how precious he is about his workshop." She gave herself a moment to watch Cora, and from the upside down view she was every bit as breathtaking. Her auburn hair was far lighter than Grace's and straight, fanning around her smooth and perfect. With only a white chemise down to her knees, her body seemed curvy but perfectly proportioned, her hips wide and waist so small sometimes Grace worried it would break. Grace's gaze lingered at where the fabric curved across Cora's chest, so thin that the outlines of her nipples were shadows against the white. "Stop stalling and show me." Cora whispered, moving closer with each word until her hands gripped the edge of the bed and her face was directly above Grace's. An auburn curtain circled around them, isolating Grace's vision until Cora's dark blue eyes were all that she could see. Her face was so close that Grace gulped, fighting the urge to reach up and touch the soft curve of Cora's cheek. "Alright. I'll show you." Cora's face lit up, her eyes sparkling in the low light of the oil lamps. "Good." Cora lowered her head until Grace could feel her soft lips brush against hers. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment she hoped. But Cora pulled back, walking around the bed towards Grace's bedside table. "Is it in here?" The words made Grace's heart quicken, a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Yes," she whispered. "Bottom drawer." Grace watched Cora bend down, the curve of her buttocks silhouetted against the light from the lamp on the table. Though she couldn't see, she heard the sound of the straps clicking against one another as they were lifted out from the drawer. Cora giggled as she spun around, dropping the mass of leather and metal onto the bed in a little pile. "It's heavier than I thought." Grace nodded, trying to blink away the apprehension. "It is hollowed steel, that's why the leather straps had to be so strong," she replied, then bit her lip. Cora's eyes were focussed on the leather, her fingers reaching out to pick each strap up, trying to untangle it or make sense of what she was seeing. With a gulp, Grace lifted herself up and crawled closer. "Would you like me to show you?" Her voice came out breathier than she'd intended. Cora nodded, her eyes finally showing something Grace could, perhaps hopefully, identify as lust or desire. Two of the brown leather straps had small brass buckles, and the other two were continuous, looping around each other. "Stand up," Grace commanded, finally dealing with something familiar and exact, something she knew how to deal with. Cora did as she was asked, but Grace paused, kneeling on the floor with the device held in her hands. "You'll need to take this off," Grace's eyes flicked up from the hem of Cora's chemise to her eyes. Without hesitation the white cloth was dropped to the floor, exposing the flawless skin that Grace tried not to see. She arranged two of the leather loops in a figure of eight, motioning for Cora to step into them. She did so, her small toes curling around the hairs on the sheepskin rug. Cora was so confident, wearing her perfect curves with as much ease as she did clothed. Grace unbuckled the other two straps and gripped the base of the long metal shaft as she edged the whole thing up Cora's legs until they reached the top of her thighs. The steel phallus was fixed to a thick leather triangle, covering everything that Grace blushed to see, and as she worked to tighten the straps and buckle the sides her hands shook, brushing against the warmth of Cora's skin. On the back the straps met together, criss crossing together. A smaller triangle sat neatly in the space just above her buttocks, set with a small little wind-up key shaped painstakingly into an elaborate brass butterfly. When it was secured Grace pulled herself back and stood up tall, admiring her creation. It was beautiful and shining, curving upwards from Cora's pelvis proudly, never discreet. It was sensual, sexual and dangerous, completely eliminating any desire she'd ever had for a man. The straps holding it on were carved with a swirling pattern to hide the wires that fed around from the key to the front. It was such a proud moment and she took the time to admire it being worn by someone so incredibly beautiful that it seemed she would never be able to look away. "Incredible." Cora breathed, turning around to see the large oval mirror set into the wall behind her. She moved her hips around, looking at it from every angle, her eyes wide with wonder. Finally her fingers trailed down across her stomach to her hips, touching the leather straps and following them across her pelvis until they could run along the length of metal. Grace gulped, her breasts heaving out of the silk top that clung loosely to her shoulders. "What do you think?" She asked, fearing to move lest she spill her emotions across the room. "How does it work?" Cora asked, taking a step towards Grace. The movement was abrupt and unlike her. She was always ever so graceful. But no, it couldn't be desire, could it? It couldn't be passion causing her to lose herself the way Grace did every time they were together, could it? Finally Grace willed herself to move closer, taking hold of Cora's hips and turning her around to face away from her, towards the mirror again. She could see her hands pale against Cora's skin, feel the heat between them for the brief moment until she had to let go. The little butterfly was sitting still, waiting for them. "Are you ready?" Grace asked, her mouth close to Cora's ear. A shiver ran down Cora's spine and Grace felt it like electricity pulsing between them. Excitement and fear rode her mind as she gripped the key and began to turn. A violent gasp from Cora made her fingers stop turning, her hand reaching to make sure that everything was alright. Had something gone wrong? But when she spun around Cora's eyes were wide, her hand reaching out to take Graces and place it between her breasts. Her lips parted as her chest heaved, a faint whirring sound coming from between their hips. Cora's whole body shuddered and she fell towards Grace, holding her hands to steady her. "Incredible," she whispered. "I didn't think..." Grace couldn't speak, seeing the shudders running through Cora's body, her breasts swaying and back arching. More than anything she wanted Cora to kiss her, let her feel the intense pulsating around the steel too, as it was meant to be used -- together. The mechanism continued down further inside the leather, as Cora had discovered, and when Grace reached out and ran her finger down the shaft, it vibrated up her arm and forced more pressure downwards into Cora. Cora almost screamed, her hands reaching out to take Grace's hips and pull them closer. But before Cora's fingers found the little silk drawstring the springs inside the key ground to a halt and Cora fell still. The watched each other silently, both out of breath and shaking. Finally Cora smiled and Grace let out the breath she'd been holding. The first laugh brought more laughs, and once again the room seemed calm and relaxed. "Help me out of this, huh?" Cora smiled, her shaking fingers struggling to undo the buckles. Grace nodded, and quickly slipped the straps down to the floor, careful not to look at what she was exposing of Cora. "So," she grinned, tucking all the straps back into the drawer. "What do you think?" "I think we are going to be very, very rich." Disobedience "Ahem," she cleared her throat, watching as the girl started and gazed up from below her painted lashes. The blush crept from her cheeks down over the tops of her breasts making her utterly beautiful. Behind her the moan of her boy made her note that the girl was new, growling deeply she twisted his face around to make him look, "Is that the little cunt." His nod was all she needed, letting go of his face she slashed out, feeling the blade dig deeply into his back, from shoulder to the middle of the back she went, her eyes focused and furious. The girl had returned to her loud wet noises, fueling another slash across his back, this one criss-crossing. "See what this little bitch does to you boy, feel what she is doing to you," snarling it out she slashed straight downward, not listening to his screams, nor feeling the slickness of his blood, "Do you really want her? Do you really want to feel this every time you touch her?" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" the girls' orgasm rained down upon the stunned silence, and as the boy fell limp against his bindings, the weight swung in a soft crescendo, only to stop as well and fall dead as well. Slipping around to the front of him she lifts his chin watching as his eyes flicker open, landing on the bloody knife, a distinctive shiver courses through him behind her fingertips. He was starting to bruise, and the intricate web of cuts and lashes made his handsome figure look like a tormented soul from hell. Reaching up she quickly releases the bindings watching him fall to his knees before her. Deftly she takes off the gag, and allows him to get his voice back before delicately whispering, "Now boy, tell me what I ordered you to do this morning." "I was got dress in my best attire, be on my best behavior, and come to the club with you. I was to be kind and courteous, and above all I was not to touch another submissive or dominate." "Very good," She looked down and inspected the cuts. They weren't deep enough to need stitches; in fact they were already starting to scab up. She was proud of her work, he had the point driven home to him, but one thing remained, "And boy, what do you do if you really want to play with someone?" "Ask first Mistress," his whisper was monotone. "Turn on your knees and look at the slut you admired so earlier. Look at how she touched herself during your pain. Look hard sub and study. Gaze at everything around you, for this is the last time you will be allowed to come with me." He looked, and made a face that she couldn't distinctly describe. It was a combination of horror and terrible hurt. He looked at how the girl let her juices flow from herself, over her thighs, took in how she glowed from watching him. Then the look turned to something like shame, she felt her heartache at the decision she had made, but it was for the best. "Unlock yourself." Once he had his feet free he made to rise up to stand and she halted him, her hand taping her neck. Sighing he rested back on his heels, parting his thighs slightly as his hands turned palms up upon the tops of his legs. Raising his chin he leaned forward so that the d-ring of his collar showed. The leash latched on with a solid click and she pulled it taunt to her so that his face was almost in her crotch, "Kiss", and he did so, pressing his dry lips to her leather clad valley and bowed his head. Hearing someone move behind her, Mistress Red looked over her shoulder. Milinda had placed all her toys back in the duffle, leaving two out yet by the command of her Master. Smiling Red knew why Master Robert was renounded for his sadistic mind. "Bring me the belt please little one." With the whisper of silk the male chastity belt was placed in her free hand, giving the girl a warm smile she focused back in on her boy. "Kneel" he rose up high on his knees and parted his thighs. His eyes were glued on the belt in her hand. Slowly she put it on, happy that the harness didn't come down and around his waist, pulling off the clamps before pulling the belt tight. With a little tiny silver lock that she clicked into place the belt was on and secure. Tugging the leash again, "Kiss", she watched his movement in it. Satisfied that it wasn't too tight she reached out, feeling the handle of the zapper hit her palm. "Milinda dear, come here now." Master Robert's voice broke the loud silence, it sort of heralded the end of the punishment, and others raised their voices once more into conversation. "Sheen, and lead." She waited for him to start walking on his hands and knees before turning on the electrified tennis racket. All the way out and even in the car, she spanked him with it, enjoying the little tiny zaps and sparks that flew, and the soft hisses that followed. Upon the next week, Mistress Red locked the door to her apartment. Striding to out of her complex to her car her smile could not have been brighter, for back inside her dark home Wallace was chained, in the bathroom. His lead was hooked to the toilet and upon the floor were two dishes, one with water in it, and the other with a happy meal from McDonalds. He was being the obedient little pup she always knew he could be. Disobedient Slut-dog As a recovering shop-oholic I have a fantasy where my husband punishes me for over-spending on his emergency credit card. He opens the bill as we sit down for breakfast. He asks me why I'm still using the card after our discussion last month. He'd given me a sound spanking at the time and expected that to be the end of it. He'd even taken the card away from me so he couldn't understand how I'd managed to find it and use it anyway. I try to explain that I'd needed a new dress to go to his office party as he was always talking about how important it is for me to make him look good. In my excitement I'd forgotten the 'no-credit-card' rule and I was so used to purchasing items over the internet that I had his card number memorised a long time ago and used it without thinking. He's already angry at the size of the bill but he completely loses his cool when I try to make simpering excuses. He stands up, grabs my hair pulling my head back so I'm looking up at him and gives me a hard slap across my face. "Are you seriously trying to blame me for your over-spending, bitch?!" "No," I say cautiously. "That's what it sounds like to me! Of course I want you to look good when you're going out with me but you know as well as I do that your wardrobe is full of gorgeous clothes and you didn't need any more. So don't you dare give me any bullshit about spending money for my sake – like you're doing me some sort of favour?" "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," I answer, flippantly. "Like hell you didn't. Get up bitch!" he shouts. He drags me up out of my chair and bends me over the table. He holds both my wrists behind my back and rips my jeans and panties down under my arse with one angry jerk. He spanks my arse hard yelling at me for breaking my promises and not doing as I'm told. I'm crying and screaming for him to stop because he's never hit me this hard before. Despite the pain, feeling his hand on my arse has the same effect it always does... my pussy gets wet and enlarged. He can see the wetness spreading between my thighs and this adds to his anger. "I can't believe your filthy cunt is getting wet now. Don't you understand how serious this is?! I'm trying to explain to you the consequences of your actions and stop you from sending me bankrupt and all you think about it sex! All you can think about is my stiff cock buried deep inside your fat wet twat isn't it?" he says in disgust. "No... I am listening to you... honest! I'm... not thinking about... sex," I reply, unconvincingly. He pulls my pants all the way down to my ankles and lifts my feet out of them, spreading my legs wide apart. Then he spanks my pussy hard and I can hear wet squelching sounds so I know I'm a lot wetter than I thought I was. He puts his hand in front of my face and says, "How can you say you're not thinking about sex? Look at my hand! Covered with your filthy cunt juices. Lick my hand clean so I can keep spanking you." I lick my cum off his hand and try to get the thought of sex out of my head. I know I'd much rather have his cock lovingly buried inside me than to have this relentless angry spanking. But he doesn't seem to be in the mood for a fuck and the spanking continues until eventually his fiery anger burns out and he runs out of steam. "Well I've worn my hand out spanking this disobedient arse of yours but I doubt you've learnt your lesson. What am I going to have to do to make sure you don't 'forget' to leave my credit card alone?" he asks. "I'll never forget again, I promise!" "Well your arse is looking fantastically red right now. I doubt you'll be able to sit comfortably for a day or two and for any normal woman that would be enough of a reminder. But you're such a filthy slut I bet the only thing you'll remember is how wet your cunt is right now. I bet you'd do anything for me to fill your holes right now," he sneers. I beg, "Yes please fuck me. I promise I'll be good from now on, just please fuck me and take the pain away." "You see you're just not getting it are you? Why should I fuck you? I don't want to take your pain away. It pains me to be sharing my life with a stupid bitch who doesn't care if she ruins me and I don't see anyone taking my pain away. So I'm going to make sure you're in just as much pain as I am and that you never forget this lesson. Stay right where you are," he commands. He leaves the room and leaves me bent over the table with my arse glowing red. He returns with a jar of menthol vapour rub and promises to make sure I never forget his words again. He takes out a big glob of menthol rub and spreads it all around my arse hole. At first it feels cool and soothing and makes me wonder if he's lubing me up to fuck my arse. But before long it begins to burn. I start squirming and protesting. "How does that feel my little slut?" he asks. "How do you think it feels? It fucking burns! There's a reason it says 'for external use only' on the damn box!" I say angrily. "Good," he snaps. "Just like you're intent on burning a hole in my wallet, I'm burning a hole in this disobedient arse of yours. And you like breaking rules so who cares what it says on the box eh? Smart-mouthed whore!" He pushes more of the soft grease up my unwilling hole. I try to dilate my muscles so that it doesn't touch the sides but he twists his fingers around smearing the burning grease on the walls of my shit-hole. He pushes in another large blob of the vaporising grease then massages my arse cheeks, pushing the hole shut and working it in. I'm crying and dancing around trying to ease the fire in my back passage. The heat is causing me to sweat and the grease melts inside me, mixing with the natural lubrication of my arse and slowly seeping out of the puckered hole, running over the lips of my pussy and clit. Now my whole arse and cunt is burning, covered with this evil grease. I've never known such pain and it's certainly taken my mind off getting fucked. "Do you still want me to fuck you?" he asks mockingly. "No! I can't take anything else inside me! I want to have a shower and clean this grease out of me. Please let me go. I'll never buy anything without asking you again and I'll never use your emergency credit card. Just PLEASE let me go!" "Sorry honey but for some strange reason I'm still not convinced. Could it be that we've had this conversation several times? Or is it the fact that you can turn tears on and off like a fucking tap? If you really want me to forgive you, this is what's going to happen," he says. "You're going to spend the rest of the day with your biggest butt plug lodged up your arse. Under NO circumstances are you to have a shower or a bath or try to clean the vapour rub from your pussy or arse. You are NOT allowed to make yourself cum because I don't want your pussy juices to soothe the burning. You will spend the day naked with your exposed arse on fire. In this state you will clean this house from top to bottom and prepare a three course meal for us, as well as working on your research paper. Every hour, on the hour I want you to phone me and say 'My arse and cunt are burning to remind me to stop burning a hole in your wallet. Thank you for teaching me this lesson.' If you do exactly as I've told you then maybe I'll relieve you when I return home tonight." He lodges the butt plug in my hot arse hole and leaves and I carry out my duties throughout the day just as he specified. I feel like such a stupid bitch for making him angry enough to punish me so harshly but I'm still tempted to make myself cum. When I call him at 4pm to thank him for my lesson he sounds much more relaxed and he praises me when I tell him that the plug is still firmly holding the fire in my arsehole and I've completed all my chores. "See I know you're a good girl really. We all forget things from time to time but you're showing me that you're ready to make an effort with this. I'm sorry I didn't want to fuck you this morning but sometimes you make me so fucking angry I can't even look at you. You've been so good about this so I know we'll have great make-up sex tonight," he says happily. His gentle forgiving voice gives me a thrill deep down in my belly. My nipples are hard as I imagine what a relief it would be to ride his cock while wanking my cunt and calling out his name as I cum. Now that I know he doesn't really hate me I think maybe I can get away with making myself cum before tonight so I after he puts the phone down I lie back on the couch with my legs wide apart. I rub my pussy lips with the phone handset, thinking about his commanding but loving voice. I've spent the whole day in unbelievable pain and discomfort but I know he's done this because he cares about me and wants the best out of me. It doesn't take me long to cum but I'm still horny and feeling like a bitch on heat. I get down on the floor on all fours and reach under my cunt wanking myself with the phone. I'm in a complete sexual trance thinking about the events of the day. Like a sex-crazed animal I make myself cum on the floor, dragging my tits across the rough carpet, then on the table, on the washing machine, in our bed, cumming over and over again. My depravity reaches new heights and I find myself standing in front of the open bedroom window rubbing my cunt frantically, not caring if anyone passing by should see me. Secretly hoping there was a dirty old man in a house across the road jerking off to the sight of my depraved window display. I keep rubbing my cunt all over the house cumming hard until I collapse exhausted into a satisfied deep sleep. I'm woken up with a hard slap across my face. My man has come home early. I missed my 5pm check-in so he tried to phone me. He couldn't get through to me because I hadn't put the phone back on the hook after wanking with it. He had to come home slightly early because he was worried about me. "There was I thinking you'd fainted from the pain in your arse! I was worried that I'd gone too far! But I rush home to find you sprawled out on the floor with your hands between your legs like a filthy slut! I TOLD YOU NOT TO MAKE YOURSELF CUM!" he exclaims. "I couldn't help it" I whisper. But I know that I could have helped myself. I could have held out for the whole day like he asked but I just thought I could get away with it. Just like I thought I could get away with using his credit card. Only then does the shame of the past two hours hit me. "I am sick and tired of hearing you say that bitch - 'I couldn't help it!' 'I couldn't help it!'. When are you going to start showing some self-control?!" he asks. "I should drag you out of here right now and put you naked on the street with the rest of the mindless dogs where you belong. But I said I'd train you up into a decent human being and I will." He takes his belt off and whips the front of my body. I try to cover my sensitive tits with my arms and keep my legs closed to protect my clit but he shouts at me to raise my arms above my head and spread my legs wide apart. I do exactly as I'm told and he trains the belt onto my tits, legs and pussy making me cry in pain and shame knowing I had no one to blame but myself. When he can see dark red marks all over my front he lifts me up by my hair and makes me stand with my hands stretched out horizontally to the sides and my feet wide apart. He whips my arse, my back and my fleshy thighs with his belt with all the strength he can muster. The force makes me fall forward so he drags me up again, demanding that I keep still. When I let my arms lower even an inch, he curls the belt under and whips my cunt to remind me to remain in position. When he's satisfied that every inch of my body has been licked with his belt he orders me to remain in position to think about my behaviour while he has something to eat. I think about what an idiot I've been and make my mind up never to go against his wishes again. After eating, he takes a shower, makes some phone calls and watches some television, completely ignoring me. Only when he's completely relaxed does he break the silence. He stands behind me and asks for details about how I wanked myself off, how many times I made myself cum and what drove me over the edge each time. He is now rubbing his cock and I feel him wiping his precum on my beaten arse. When I tell him about how I played with my cunt in front of the window and wanted to be seen by a dirty old man, he grabs me around the neck and shoves his cock right up inside my cunt. He puts his mouth right next to my ear and whispers hoarsely, "You really are the filthiest cunt I have ever known. You're always pissing me off and disappointing me but your nasty behaviour makes my cock so hard I just have to fuck you. This is all you're good for you know. A walking talking fuck hole for me to use and abuse. Maybe I should invite all the neighbours over to abuse you too then you won't need to wank in front of the window to get the constant attention you're so desperate for. Would you like that? ... Answer me!" "I... don't... know. I just know... I need.... to be have my holes... used and.... be filled with cock." He pulls me onto his cock harder and harder with one hand firmly around my neck and the other hand twisting the plug in my bumhole. I know he's right about me because I feel so good being filled with his angry cock and the butt plug. We both know that I break the rules to provoke him into treating me like a filthy fuck slut and I'm never going to stop. I cry out in ecstasy as he pinches my nipples and clit while fucking me relentlessly. I hard cum on his cock with every fibre of my body. He pulls out his cock and cums all over the red welts on my arse. We both collapse in a heap on the floor and sleep for a while. When I wake up I go to the kitchen to get something to eat but he follows me and tells me I'll be eating out of a bowl on the floor to remind me that I'm a slut dog. He ties his belt around my neck and walks me around the table on my hands and knees. He puts some food in a bowl for me and watches me eat. While I eat, he slowly pulls the buttplug out of my arse. It's been there for so long that it was beginning to feel comfortable so moving it actually causes pain. I whimper into my food and try to pull away from him. He presses a hand firmly onto my back to keep me still and continues to pull the plug out with a large wet plopping sound. I feel like such a whore being treated like this but there's nowhere else I'd rather be. My hole is so stretched that he can push four fingers into my arse. He slowly sodomizes me with his fingers and tells me to keep eating because I'll need my strength for what he's got in store. As he twists his fingers around exploring my arse from the inside, he tells me that I'm going to be his pet slut dog for the rest of the week. Eating out of bowls with my mouth, not wearing clothes, sleeping at the foot of his bed, being led around with a collar and leash and only being fucked from behind. And most importantly, not spending any money.