4 comments/ 42749 views/ 4 favorites Introspection By: MJs babe She waited in anxious anticipation, her pussy throbbing in need. He had denied her, time and again, over the past days, bringing her to the brink of orgasm through different means. Dildos vibrating wildly, pulled from her sopping cunt just as she was at her brink, His low growl warning her not to release. His thick fingers plunging deeply inside of her, stroking and raking until she shook with desire, again denied. And whipped, oh god, whipped until she thought she would explode, her velvet cunt lips swollen and striped from the cat. But tonight He promised release. Thinking back on His words, she was sure that was what He meant. Quivering gently, she pressed her thighs together, groaning softly, forbidden to touch her aching sex. She thought she would go insane if she weren't granted relief soon, the thought eliciting another soft moan. Closing her hazel eyes, she began to rock on her heels gently, the seesawing motion allowing her aching lips to rub together. Lost in the forbidden pleasure she didn't hear Him enter, truly didn't sense Him until He was standing directly behind her, one gleaming black boot on either side of her full hips, His arms crossed and a scowl on His handsome face as He watched her so openly disobey Him. Frowning softly, knowing something was wrong, she opened her eyes, her belly knotting as she saw the boot in her peripheral vision. Groaning softly, she eased to her hands and knees to crawl forward, meaning to turn around to face Him on her knees, but before she could turn, her bottom erupted in fire as His hand came down hard in a sidelong swing, impacting the fleshy asscheeks powerfully. Squealing, she spun around, eyes filling with sudden tears as she positioned herself quickly, her glistening eyes lowered, her thighs spread wide, guilty with shining honey. "What were you doing, pet?" His voice, low and soft, contained just an indication of His pique. She lacked the strength to look up into His eyes, her body trembling. "Nothing, Master...i mean, i was just...sitting and waiting..." "And pleasuring yourself, little slut. Don't forget that one. Seems I can't leave you alone for an hour or two without you flagrantly disobeying my orders." His eyes narrowed as He looked down at His errant slave, a light shake to His head. "What am I to do?" He stroked her hair firmly as He pondered, His hand curling to a fist in Her blonde mane, drawing a soft whimper from her. "Perhaps I should give you what you so desperately seek, little harlot." Wincing at His words, she sat quietly before Him, her heart thumping dully in her chest. She swallowed a soft little whimper, His words filling her with a mixture of dread and dark anticipation. Knowing better than to speak, she merely sat mutely before her Master, her small hands clenched anxiously. Pulling on her hair, fist tightly entangled in her tresses, he urged her to her feet, eliciting a soft, low moan from her lips, born of pain and sweet anxious dread. Yanking on her hair, keeping her head low by His side, not allowing her to rise, keeping her down so she was forced to almost scuttle beside Him, He pushed her into the cool wall of the punishment corner, hauling her up and deftly attaching a wickedly short chain to the "D" ring in her collar, pulling her up short, cutting her movement to almost nothing. Her hazel eyes widened and her breasts heaved as she watched Him stride to the toy chest, throwing the top open to snatch items from within the oak box. He returned to her, His arms filled with the implements of His desire...and her agony. As He dropped them at her feet, she looked down with a wild shudder, inventorying...the thigh, wrist and ankle cuffs, gleaming leather, embellished with "D" rings...the heavy spreader bar, the lengths of soft nylon rope, the leather cat and the thick, wide leather strap. Whimpering delicately, she pressed her body against the wall, panting softly, turning her gaze up to Him, her soft eyes clouded and anxious. Softly she whispered, a gentle plea. "Master, please. I'm sorry...I didn't realize what I was doing..." She trembled, watching His eyes narrow and harden as He spoke, the tone one of incredulity. "You didn't realize what you were doing? You didn't realize you were pleasing yourself as you rubbed your sluttish thighs together? You didn't realize you were disobeying me?" Again, He yanked her hair, thrusting her head upward as she tried to lower her eyes shamefully. Growling softly at her. "Do you realize how much pleasure I'm going to get from hearing you beg for forgiveness, little slave?" Grasping her hair, He shook her head wickedly, drawing a squeal from her, bringing a smile to His lips. "Oh yes, I'm going to enjoy using my fucktoy, tonight...." With that, He released her hair and bent down, picking up the cuffs. Quickly, easily, He attached them to her body, pulling the buckles especially tight around her thighs, pressing His fist upward into her needy cunt, twisting it to dig His knuckles between her swelling cuntlips. Groaning and writhing, she closed her eyes, the sensations of dull pain and pleasure coursing through her naked form. Watching her face, He unclenched His fist and stroked her moist pussyflesh, her body responding with a wild little shiver, lulled to pleasure as He lowered His palm and brought it up quickly, giving the swollen flesh a painful, heated slap, thrusting a cry from her lips. Her pulsing cuntlips throbbed from the slap, her eyes snapping open in pain as His hand thrust up again and again, spanking her heated cunt repeatedly, making her jerk and squirm against the chain. Pausing, He crouched behind her, deftly attaching the spreader bar to the cuffs around her ankles, making her stance almost painfully wide, forcing her to lean against the wall for balance. Her pussy lips parted as He pulled her wide, eliciting a soft groan from her. He ran His hands up the backs of her thighs, her flesh quivering beneath His fingers, the journey concluded with His palm striking her ass soundly, leaving an angry red handprint on the pale globes. Yelping hoarsely, quivering, jerking against her collar, she stood as still as she could as He positioned her against Him, wrapping His arm around her waist and lifting her up on her toes, giving Himself a free hand at her full, round ass. Without preamble, He began to spank her, hard and fast, quickly setting fire to her soft globes, her voice raised in dismay and protest, His expression stern and immovable. He held her tightly and easily as she squirmed and writhed, lifting her up to her toes to minimize her movements as He turned her naughty ass crimson. Just as quickly, He released her, her cheeks wet from her tears, her breasts heaving from her sobs. Seemingly unaffected by her contrite little cries and whimpers, He snatched up the wrist cuffs, barking at her to hold out her hands. Mewling softly, she obeyed, watching with a tearful gaze as He bound her wrists with the thick leather cuffs, her darkened eyes raising to look up into His serious, angry countenance. Her gaze lingered only for a moment before dropping, His eyes, His expression, sending a frigid chill through her body. "I don't ask much, My whore, but I do demand obedience." Snapping her leash onto her collar, He deftly released the tiny chain holding her so tightly to the wall. "And when you so easily, so thoughtlessly, flaunt that disobedience I have no choice but to teach you a strong lesson." Ignoring her pleas and whimpers, He held her leash close and half-walked, half-dragged her over to the wooden spanking horse, the spreader bar hobbling her. He pressed her down hard on the spanking horse, the hard surface digging into her tender belly and sex, bisecting her full breasts. With a yank, He pulled her arms down to the side, squatting for a moment to attach the wrist cuffs firmly to the side of the horse, rising and moving to her other side to secure her free arm tightly. He then moved back behind her, pulling her thighs painfully wide, opening her pussy and her asshole, and displaying them for His pleasure and use. Using snaps, He held her thighs fast to the horse by the D-rings in the tight thigh cuffs, leaving her feet free, spread wide with the metal bar. "Master...please forgive me. I'm so sorry." She mewled softly, panting, her breathing hoarse and labored. "Please give me another chance." "Never fear, little fuckpet. You'll have plenty of chances, but this lesson will be taught. You'll not "forget" again." Walking away from her, her hazel eyes wide and glistening with anxious, frightened tears, she watched Him take up the leather strap and open the supply cabinet, taking out some items. His dark eyes appraised her slowly, His little bound disobedient slave, her ass and cunt displayed to Him for punishment...and pleasure. He walked slowly to her side, pressing His hand to her sleek back. With a flick of His fingers, He turned on the thick vibrator held in His large hand, holding it poised for a moment outside of her spread pussylips before thrusting it deeply inside of her, eliciting a squeal of pain from her inverted form. Then, taking a thick butt plug, He held it to her lips, and growled softly. "Wet this, cunt...it's the only lubrication you'll get." Her eyes widened, filling with fresh tears, her lips parting to moisten the hated plug. He held it for her for a long moment as her quick little tongue swirled around the thick rubber bulb, watching, then snatched it away, parting her asscheeks with one large hand to force the plug deeply into her dry, tight asshole, grunting softly, pushing until her dark rose closed on the rubbed ridges. Wailing in pain, feeling as if she had been torn in two. She shuddered and struggled helplessly, weeping, the dildo humming deeply within her, driving her arousal to a new peak. He watched her knowingly, gauging her arousal and her climb to the peak of her climax. He paused only slightly before thrusting His wide palm and thick fingers against her swollen lips, pulling and pinching her clit, driving her up and over her peak, her response one of wild agitation, her climax claiming her, rocking her powerfully. Just as quickly, He withdrew His hand and the thick vibe, allowing her to calm, her orgasm to wane, leaving her shaken and breathless, her tears thick on her cheeks. Taking the thick strap in hand, He walked slowly around her quivering form, letting her get a lingering look at the strap, holding it to her lips silently. She raised her eyes to His, imploring, pleading, and when answered with a stern glare, she obediently pressed her dry lips to the thick strap, kissing it softly before dissolving into tears once more. Silently, He stroked her still ruby red buttocks, squeezing and pinching, eliciting mewls and cries from her, pleasing Himself, admiring His property. Drawing back His arm, He let the strap fly. Never stoic in the face of His anger, she expressed her shame and dismay with a wail of pain, her quivering asscheeks impacted fiercely, the soft, pliant flesh flattened and splayed out beneath the agonizing strike. Over and again, He whipped her, the strap wickedly snapping against the imbedded assplug, sending jolts of agony through her bowels. Deaf to her screams and howls, only pausing to survey His work, He ran a large hand over the fiery cheeks, squeezing the tormented flesh to inspire another satisfying scream from her trembling form. Smiling tightly, He leaned to whisper hotly in her ear, His fingers running roughly between her sopping cuntlips to capture her swollen clit, rubbing it teasingly, the little pearl throbbing to His touch. "It's time to perform again, my whore. I know you want this, given your need for it earlier." Pinching her swollen clit in His fingers, He began to stroke and pull, flicking the exquisitely sensitive button with His nail. Her orgasm came violently, rocking her bound body with jerking spasms, the pain braiding with the pleasure, the two becoming one. Her head snapped helplessly, her howls high-pitched and desperate. Without respite, He kept her climax flaring until her punished body fell limp, her labored breaths hoarse and quick, her sobs heartfelt. Stepping back, He appraised His wayward slave, His dark eyes roaming over His possession, shuddering and hot from His hand. Leaning back against the bar, casually, He slapped the strap against His calf, pondering the further fate of His bound slut. Turning slightly, He tossed the strap on top of the bar and fished a cigarette from the pack in His pocket, lighting it with a match from a book taken from a small basket on the counter. Idly crossing His ankles, He drew languorously from the cigarette, white tendrils of smoke curling possessively around His head. Damping the half-finished cigarette in the ashtray, He took stock; His slave's breathing labored, now, only by the hitching of her desperate little sobs. Pushing off of the bar, He slowly approached her, smiling tightly, pleased to see her tremble as He drew near. Pressing His large, knowing hand to her calf, the touch urging a gentle moan from her limp form, He casually, tenderly, began to explore her heated, moist body, His hand and fingers tracing warm trails up the back of her leg, around her silken thigh, grazing the punished flesh of the juncture of her asscheek and leg. Smiling more as she cried out so sweetly, He dragged His nail up and over the proud mound of her ass, drawing heated whimpers and sobs from His wicked slave. Abandoning her punished buttocks, He traveled up her back, making tiny zigzag patterns back and forth over her spine. Then, easily, His fingers moved to her neck, entangling in her hair. Her soft, muted cries arousing Him intensely, His cock, already stiff, fighting for freedom. Stepping in front of her, He crouched, moving to her level, increasing His grip on her hair and raising her head to look into her glazed, tear filled eyes. She mewled softly as her gaze met His, her lips parted. He never knew her to be so beautiful, His cock responding, jerking angrily in His trousers. "How are you, little cunt?" His voice, low and growled, sent wild shudders through her tormented, fiery body. "Are you still...hungry?" Her only answer a low whimper, He grinned, not truly allowing her to respond. "Ah! I can see you are still needy, pet. I can help, I think..." With a wicked grin, He stood, His fist still iron tight in her hair, her head still held up at an ungainly angle, forcing her to arch. Deftly, He released His belt buckle and pants, sliding the zipper down, His thick, demanding cock jerking upright, bobbing and throbbing. "Open your mouth, cunt whore. Wide." Again, she answered with a low, helpless whimper, this time His response was slightly more forceful, His wide, rough palm connecting with her tender cheek with a wicked, loud 'smack'. Growling, holding her head tightly, preventing it from rocking to the side with the blow to her face, He repeated, His voice low and menacing. "Open your mouth, cunt whore. Wide. Now. I'll not tell you again." Obediently, sobbing softly, she opened her mouth, trembling deeply, her hazel eyes trained on His cock. Without preamble, He thrust His swollen shaft into her opened mouth, driving it deep, closing His eyes as she gagged and struggled, unable to move. Clenching His teeth, He roughly, rudely fucked her warm, moist mouth, her tongue moving almost involuntarily on His shaft in a dance of slavery, desperate to give Him pleasure even as her body throbbed from His use. Snarling, His own passions flaring dark and powerful, He pounded His cock into her, fucking her throat, crying out hoarsely as her throat muscles closed down on the tender head, clamping tightly with each forward thrust. He felt her struggle and writhe under His grip, Her desperate movements driving His climax to its peak. Roaring as He came, His orgasm violent and powerful, He held her close, her face pressed to His belly, her nostrils flaring as she struggled to breathe, His cum rocketing down her throat in a hot gush. Shuddering deeply, He held her tightly to Him, denying her the very air needed for life, controlling her in the most exquisite and complete way. Finally releasing her, she cried out hoarsely, almost panicking, gulping huge gasps of air into her deprived lungs, tears streaming down her cheeks, her sobs deep and heartfelt, racking her body. Stepping back, He released her hair, letting her head drop heavily, pressing His sensitive cock gently back into His pants. Buckling His belt, He slowly circled His bound girl, tapping the butt plug with a teasing, wicked finger, drawing a strangled moan from her exhausted body. Pressing His hand between her spread thighs, He began, again, to stroke her swollen, velvet lips, slowly, gently, knowing her so very well, knowing this delicate touch to her punished flesh would draw her out and upward. With a low, guttural moan, she began to quiver in her dance, on her journey to her climax. Watching her carefully, silently, He plied her needy, sopping slave cunt perfectly, gauging her rise to her crescendo with almost practiced nonchalance. As she began to soar, her sounds becoming desperate and hoarse, He drew His glistening fingers back and away, ignoring her cries of protest, then pressing her to silence by thrusting His honey coated fingers between her lips, smiling darkly as she hungrily suckled, her climax left upon an agonizing plateau. Whimpering and weeping, her tears trailed down the back of His hand. Pulling His fingers from her wanton mouth, He smiled darkly, wiping them, drying them, in her golden hair. Grasping the length of rope, He threaded it beneath her, wrapping its length several time around her waist, speaking to her softly, firmly, clearly, His voice penetrating the fog in her mind and her soft sobs. "This is what you are, fucktoy. You're a hole for my cock. You are here for My pleasure. Whatever pleasure you may have will be at My choosing." Looping the rope in the middle of her glistening back He drew it downward, over the end of the thick plug and between her cunt lips, holding her belly up with one hand as the other pulling the rope taut, thrusting a grunt from her, the rope cruelly digging into her cunt. "I take only minimal pleasure in teaching you this lesson, but it will be taught. You will learn...and how quickly and easily you learn is up to you. I have time...I have patience. You will learn, cunt." Twisting the rope around the expanse about her waist, He again drew it through and against her sopping, swollen cuntlips, grunting softly as He yanked it mercilessly tight, bisecting her asscheeks, tying off the rope tightly. Smacking her ass hard, once, twice, three times, thrusting an agonized squeal from her, He walked around her again, pausing to pick something out of the supply closet. Crouching before her again, He grasped her hair and yanked her head up again, fixing His gaze to hers, His eyes filled with emotion...love, anger and stern forcefulness. "Have I made Myself clear, slave?" His gaze pierced her mind, her heart, her soul and she whispered hoarsely, her breath hitching with sobs, her eyes glazed with dark pleasure and pain. "Yes, Master..." Nodding slightly, He lifted a ball gag, thrusting it between her teeth, forcing her jaws wide, her eyes widening in dismay as He buckled the strap of the thick, hard gag around her head, then again letting her head drop. With effort, she looked up at Him, her face a portrait of exquisite, pained arousal mixed with confusion and shame. Her clouded gaze watched Him as He strode purposely to the door, seeing Him turn as He spoke. "I'll leave you to your introspection, slave. Goodnight." With that, He stepped through the door to the chambers and disappeared, leaving her to weep hoarsely, her bound body speaking eloquently of her education by His hand. Introspection Now, on the phone, I ask him to talk dirty to me, but I hesitantly say that I want something a little different. Usually, we fantasize together, speaking of what we’d be doing to each other, but today I want him to tell me what I should do to myself. I’m glad he’s so incredibly patient; I’ve already bitten his head off for speaking too softly. It’s just that I’m so irritated and frustrated I want to yell at somebody! I’ve been watching porn on my computer, so I’m already wet, which adds to my emotional turmoil. I’m embarrassed for asking, but he likes the idea, so I tell him that I’m lying naked in my bed, only a sheet covering my body. There’s KY jelly, my fingers, and my vibrator, so he can choose whichever he prefers. He has me begin by stroking my breasts on the outside, never touching the nipple. It doesn’t feel like much, so I begin to panic. It won’t work, it never works. I’ve actually been masturbating in some form or another since I was four years old. I began with my security blanket or the bedcovers, straddling a lump and wriggling till it went flat. By elementary school, I was doing it on the floor also, pulling my pants tight between my legs and going like that. I read constantly, and I found that my stories were often enhanced by this squirming exercise I did every day. I didn’t know what I was doing, however, and I thought it was a bad thing. I knew it was important that no one catch me at it. I even tried to quit, like a bad habit, but I always found myself breathless and writhing, terrified of the creaking bed. After the initial fear, I have an idea. I pump some lavender lilac lotion onto my hands and begin again with my breasts. Feeling my palms slide silkily around the soft skin, it almost starts to feel good. I’m impatient and worried, not sure why I feel the urgency to do this. He finally tells me to play with the nipples, so I grab some more lotion and have at it. At first it’s too cold and they wrinkle up, but after more massaging they begin to soften and harden simultaneously, the nipples perking up to play. For several minutes I stroke, pinch, rub, and grab, until both breasts are swelling and my nipples are pointed skyward. It still doesn’t feel as good as when he touches me, but it doesn’t feel as boring as when I touch myself while bathing or dressing. Now, he says, take your left hand and slowly, slowly move it down to your leg, but keep your right hand on the breast. I obey, using only my fingertips to trace the contours of my stomach, belly button, and then soft thigh. It feels very mundane, not at all electric like it should. I’m resigned now to my fate—I’ll never come like this! But I keep trying, keep listening to the long-distance instructions, afraid to disappoint him or myself. When I was 13, I figured out that what I did had a name. Great, now I masturbated, like the nasty guys who talked about whacking off all day. Then, I found out I was doing it all wrong. I heard wild tales of tampons, broom handles, even fingers, until I was more confused than ever. At 14, I started ‘dating’. My first boyfriend and I would make out for hours, each kiss, lick, and nibble sending chills down our backs and fire through other places. I would get furiously turned on in these car kissing sessions—and my blanket game was my only release. It wasn’t much of one, either. I could spend hours in cycles of 30-second wriggles, breath-catching, and realignment. At the end, I’d be exhausted and frustrated, usually falling asleep to dream of being touched in that burning place between my legs. Hand on thigh, fingers splayed and pressing; now he says to move them just up to the outer labia, circling but not touching them. I pump a little more lotion on my fingers and begin tracing the outside edges. I’m still afraid of defeat here. Every time I’ve tried this in the past, I started out so wet, but then dried up quickly. Now, however, I’m still wet, maybe leftover from the porn? I love the scent of my arousal, so spicy and pungent, and I’m enjoying the cool sheets against my soft, naked skin. ‘Now take that same left hand and touch the inside labia, baby; circle till you find where it feels best.’ Okay, so I stroke my amazingly wet, hot pussy, then up to… ohhhh, what is this? Covered in juices, my clit sends sparks through my groin when I touch it. It’s usually too sensitive to play with, but even though it’s still pretty ticklish, it actually feels good. I am amazed and still afraid; afraid to touch it too fast, afraid this feeling will disappear again. His directions have been good so far, though, and I’m getting a kick out of submitting to his orders, so I’m careful to do only what he lets me. Let’s fast forward to sophomore year of college. I was single and feeling desperate when a friend suggested that we make a road trip to buy a vibrator. Our town being small and strict, we would have to find a metropolis with a good adult store to make the purchase. The idea was appealing, since I had no lover to satisfy my needs; I missed having sex every day, so I agreed. I went with “My First Vibe”, pearly white and innocent like its Barbie doll namesake. It was a very basic vibrator: about six inches long, multi-speed, took two AA batteries. I named it Bob. Oh god, that first night I got it home, I was wet all down my legs with anticipation. I turned it on and slid it in, my dress hiked up around my waist, legs spread on my dorm bed. It was good, yes, in and out, bzzzzzzzzzzzzz… but no orgasm. I mostly stuck to the sheets after that, bringing Bob out only in times of great need, but with no more success than before. ‘Are your fingers wet?’ he asks. ‘Bring them up to your mouth and lick them off.’ He knows I’ve always been turned on by my taste, I think as I lick my fingers; they’re so slick and salty that I’m loving this, sucking them both all the way in like he says. ‘Now, baby, take those two fingers and go back to that same spot. Really play with it.’ I find the hooded clitoris again, stroking left to right, up and down, and I whisper into the phone that my hips move when I touch it. I’m truly in awe—this already feels better than anything I’ve ever done to myself before. When I met my current boyfriend later that year, I thought I’d never have to worry about it again. I could work myself up somewhat, but then he would fill me with fingers, tongue, and cock, quenching that wet thirst. He could make me come with so little effort, one finger inside and sharp teeth on my neck. We had sex every day when possible—we were unstoppable, incorrigible, and madly in love. Almost inevitably, the job came. Suddenly, he was on the East Coast, and I wasn’t. This was worse than being single, because my heart and body ached for this one person. My mind began to play tricks on me, inventing crushes on this person and that, desperately seeking the attention, love, and sex I was being denied. I brought out the vibrator, to no avail. I tried my fingers, but no matter how wet I was, my pussy would dry up when I stuck them in. I humped the floor so much I bruised myself—all in vain. I honestly thought I would go crazy from loneliness and horniness. My clit is slippery and soft, and my hips are starting to pump in an ancient rhythm—but where is my right hand? Forgotten and neglected, my right hand is still up on my breast, staring down at the action from afar. He softly orders me to lick a finger and slide it into myself. I wonder vaguely if he’s enjoying this, too. I’m still busily rubbing my clit with my left hand, but I follow commands, slipping the finger in and gasping. I’m so wet and soft, I’m made of satin, I’m the softest creature at the bottom of the ocean, and I can almost feel the flash flood warning signs come up at the first sprinkles of rainfall. My mind is wholly concentrated on the activity between my legs; I can barely even hear his voice, yet I’m tied to those words, afraid to make any move without his say-so. Talking to a girl online, I confessed my inability to orgasm to her. She was shocked. ‘Has no one ever showed you? My ex took my hand and showed me exactly what to do.’ The idea had never occurred to me before, but as I thought about it, it made complete sense. After all, if my boyfriend can get me off with his fingers, he ought to be able to help me do the same. It also gave me something to do on a boring summer day—so I told him to call me. I moan and whisper into the cordless phone, begging to be allowed to put in another finger. He lets me, so now two are in and two are out, and I keep the fingers still while my hips thrust every second. With each pump, I rub my clit up and down and fuck my fingers, barely having to move my hands because my hips are doing all the work. I notice the feel of my breasts on my arms in between the V they’re making. I curl the fingers of the right hand inside me, trying to point up toward my navel, but my cunt is swallowing my fingers so greedily I can’t move them much, just barely hanging on. My clit is still throbbing and pulsing, and I begin to moan—and drop the phone. It’s so right, so perfect, I’m diving for treasure, but I am the treasure; I’m making love to myself, my hips still pounding a medium tempo, but thrusting harder, and my ass clenches and my belly tightens. My head lifts off the pillow but I don’t see anything, I’m fucking myself. Oh, my pussy, my cunt, me, oh, I’m going to come… I’m bucking furiously now, moaning and gasping, bed springs screeching but I don’t care, can’t care, and then I feel my vagina clamp down on my fingers and I breathlessly yell out with my climax, and then gasp as my fingers shoot out of my pussy with the sharp muscle contraction, and my hand leaves my super-sensitive clit, and my moans turn to sobs as I fight for air and composure. I’m weeping, I’m staring at my sopping fingers, thinking (and saying) ‘I did it’ over and over. Eventually I realize through my tears that my legs are up in the air, and all my muscles are tense, but I can’t make them move yet. I’m still crying, and I can hear the phone again, and he’s worried, but I can’t speak yet. When I do, all I can whisper is ‘I did it!’ repeatedly. I try to concentrate on laying my legs back down. My panting slows, and I find my voice again, and begin to describe the orgasm to him. He has been touching himself for quite a while during this little session, and I didn’t even know it. I use the best words I can to tell him what I felt like, what it was like to climax by myself, and I’m so into the description I don’t even hear him come. This was so special, so important to me, that even though I’m happy that we both got off, my mind is too full of my rapture to think about his pleasure. He’s so excited for me, both because I wanted this so much and because I’m not so irritable anymore. I tell him I think I need a cake and champagne to celebrate the occasion. Twenty-one years old and finally got herself off! I think the bakery ladies would love that one, in light pink frosting. I’m so proud of myself! My emotional tension is gone, and I can see clearly again (once I can see, that is). I feel so good that I lie there naked for an hour, my body too special for clothes. Laying a hand over my pussy again, I can feel the heat, can feel the muscles still contracting like a heartbeat between my legs. I can’t wait to do it again later. Introspection I pulled the black Chevy Suburban over to United arrivals lane at Bozeman Airport. I was late and she was already outside waiting with her two large brown suitcases and a smaller black one. Jesus, she brought a lot of gear for a short ski weekend. She was also shivering. Maddy was always cold. Her tall, skinny body and low body fat made her an easy target for winter. I shook my head and smiled at her. She looked fantastic. Tight jeans, white sweater, brown boots with her long hair flowing down to her mid back. "Punishment" I immediately thought in my head. She knows she is always to greet me in a short skirt, no panties and slutty high heel shoes. I got out and kissed her roughly while my right hand groped her tight little ass. "Baby, you are in so much trouble" I announced. She gave a fake half smile and abruptly jumped in the front passenger seat. I took her bags and threw them in backseat and assumed the driver's position. Lenny Kravitz belted "American Woman" as we started our long drive to my ski chalet in Whitefish. Maddy was noticeabley quiet during our drive through beautiful big sky country. I joked with her and teased: "What's the matter baby? You worried about your hard spanking later? I promise to be kind of gentle." I rested my hand and forearm on her thigh and started to massage her pussy through her jeans. "Pull over" she suddenly instructed. "Here?" I inquired looking around at the farmland and the remote dirt pull off. "Here!" I brought the suburban to a stop. Maddy removed the keys from the ignition and dropped them on the floorboard at her feet. "What the fuck Maddy? What has gotten into you?" I was starting to get irritated and annoyed. We still had quite a drive in front of us. And I never have time for drama. She grabbed my face with both of her slender hands and looked deep. "You know that computer you lent me for my research" she asked without a hint of a smile. I stammered out a faint "yes" immediately thinking about all my emails to previous little cumsluts I used and abused. "Shit - she is jealous and I am going to have to explain my previous two timing ways" I thought to myself. "Well, I was doing a little forensics one night wondering what I would find on your machine. Your google search history you thought you deleted was so ridiculously easy for me to pull up." Oh my. Oh no. Maddy was always resourceful and I knew exactly what she had found. This was bad. I started to stammer our a bullshit excuse. "Stop. Baby, just stop. You are a wonderful lover, an amazing mentor and a great friend. But you are also a little sissy cumslut whore that needs to be put in her proper sub slut place. And it's going to happen this weekend. Either that or you can immediately drive me back to the fucking airport." Her steel eyes told me she wasn't even remotely kidding. "Baby..." I protested. "Don't even fucking start with me" she said as she started to pull off her jeans and lower her panties. I was so confused. She started to rub her pussy. "Fuck me Jack. Fuck me hard and fill my pussy up with your hot cream." My head was reeling. First my girlfriend calls me out for being a closet sissy cockslut and now she wants my manhood and seed in her wet cunt. I could smell her sweet scent and I started to arouse despite my mental limbo. Her tone suddenly changed. "Look, you have five minutes to deposit your load in me and trust me you should, as it's the only time your cock will be anywhere near my sweet pussy all weekend." "Baby, you know you are going to need more pussy pounding than that" I responded laughing starting to feel I could gain hand once again. "Oh, I plan to get plenty of pussy pounding by big cock this weekend sweetheart. Just not yours." "Maddy! Be fair". "Four minutes and fifteen seconds" was her only response. I hustled my pants down and climbed on top of her. I was diamond cutting hard and entered her fully in one full thrust. I started to pump and own-my-woman again but she pushed back against my chest and started to close her thighs. "Baby just rest your cock inside me and let me tell you about the start of our weekend. You are going to fill my pussy up with your seed. Then you are going to pull up my panties. Your last cum will be a tasty creampie treat for Jackie later tonight. Then you are going to take my little black suitcase and pull out the panties, dress, stockings, heels and wig out of the main compartment. And get yourself completely dressed. Finally, you will throw your clothes and shoes in the ditch next to the car and you will never see them again." "Baby"... I begged. We had kidded about Jackie in the past but it was always innocent banter fun. She instantly pushed me away and closed her thighs and pushed her powerful legs back into me. She almost drove me into the front windshield. This was Maddy at her most resolute. "You do it or I am going back to San Francisco and you will never see me again." "Fine" I relented knowing I needed to get my rocks off. "Now fuck me" she demanded. I started to thrust and both of us started moaning and moving together. I started to get my groove going and I could feel her body and breath respond. "Thirty seconds" Maddy abruptly instructed. I immediately released into her pussy. I drove my hard tool in as deep as possible and just rested. I figured I was due a "love you" or "that was amazing." Nothing. She pointed for me to get off of her. "Suitcase" was her only word as she pointed to the backseat. At this point it was pitch dark outside. I knew Maddy well enough to know she was serious but I had never seen this side of her. I climbed into the back seat and opened the suitcase. I pulled out black lace G string panties, black thigh high stockings, garter belt, blonde bob wig and a black and white striped short cocktail dress. And last my definitely not least, very slutty fuck me black pumps with little ankle straps. I put the backseats down and struggled mightily to get into my new weekend attire get up. The entire time Maddy casually texted and typed on her phone. She only looked back a couple of times. There was never even a hint of a smile. I finally buckled the shoes and announced myself complete. Maddy jumped into the front seat and ordered me to sit in the passenger seat. She took out her purse and pulled down the passenger visor mirror and started to apply a little make up to my face. Not a lot. Just a little blush, eye liner and some deep ruby red lipstick. "God, you have such an amazing cocksucking mouth" she exclaimed. "I simply can't wait to see it in full action this weekend." Suddenly I saw her face turn red and her lips purse. She didn't say anything. She just pointed to my clothes still sitting in the back seat. "Baby..." I started to try and reason with her. "You fucking little disobedient disrespectful slut - recline the seat all the way and lie flat face down!" I knew she was super pissed. This was not an act. I did as commanded. "Pull your panties down and lift your dress." I did as directed and immediately got goose bumps. I heard her fumbling with her purse. Suddenly, I felt red hot intense pain on my bare vulnerable ass. I knew it was her antique wooden hair brush assaulting my poor bottom. The violent spanking seemed to go on forever. At least thirty hard whacks. I kicked my high heels. I squirmed. I begged. I was shaking and truly close to tears. "Jackie." She whispered in my ear as she finally stopped the beating. "Jackie, I am not fucking around this weekend. Get that through your dumb blonde, little cocksucking brain or else your ass is going to be striped all weekend by me and a variety of my guests. And if you disappoint me in front of my new friends the ass beating we will deliver will make this one seems like child's play. Do you understand me?" "Yes, goddess" I whimpered. "Will you be an appropriate respectful little slut and do whatever I ask without hesitation?" "Yes, goddess." "Have you been fantasizing about sucking big thick cock and getting yourself fucked silly by big alpha males?" "Yes, goddess." I couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth. It was like an out of body experience. "Good girl" she cooed as she rubbed my soon to be bruised tush. I then felt her start to write with what felt like a Sharpie on my sore butt. I had no idea what she was writing but at that point it just didn't matter. I was truly broken. I had just received a brutal spanking and confessed my darkest fantasies to my beautiful girlfriend. I felt warm lube massaged on my puckered asshole. Maddy gently fingered me as I bucked my hips and pushed back against her hand. I craved more penetration and she knew it. She chuckled as she withdrew her finger. Next a much bigger intruder dove deep into my wanton ass pussy. I gasped at the sudden pain and fullness. I knew from experience it was a large anal plug. Then every thing melted and my world changed. I felt truly feminine and slutty. My body relaxed. My mind eased. I rolled down the window and threw my clothes and shoes out. I buckled my seatbelt. Maddy finally smiled and gave me a huge kiss. She laughed and winked. It warmed me. Maddy put the key in ignition and started to drive. To who knows where... Introspections The girl hung suspended in the darkness, the chill in the room resulting in goosebumps on her naked skin. The marks of her trainer's whip crisscrossed her back and stomach and occasionally she whimpered in pain, but she still steadfastly refused to cry. She had lost all sense of time but the ache in her stomach and her growing weakness made her certain she had not eaten for several days. The door opened with a creak and she squinted in the sudden light. Almost instantly she recognized the voice of the man they simply referred to as "The Boss" and she tensed involuntarily. He had only visited her once since their initial meeting when she was originally taken and both interactions had been accompanied by intense pain. His presence could not mean anything good. "This is her," the Boss intoned. "You said you wanted a spitfire and this one certainly qualifies. Her trainer reports she is still as stubborn as the day of her take. She also happens to still be a virgin, a nice little bonus for you." "Still a virgin at 24 years old? That's surprising." Another man entered the room as the spotlight turned on, she closed her eyes against the bright lights so she couldn't see him, but she could practically feel his eyes on her as he circled her body, extending a hand to gently run his fingers across the marks on her back. "He worked her over good," the man stated in a firm voice. "I thought your men knew better than to cause scarring." He grasped her upraised arm in an almost protective manner as he addressed the Boss. "The bitch bit him," came the reply. "He may have gotten a little carried away, but I doubt the marks are permanent." Releasing her arm the man ran his hands slowly across her stomach, pressing gently on her ribs. She twisted in her bonds trying to avoid his touch but he held her firmly in place. "I will take her," the man said at last. "Your asking price plus a bonus if you bring me a bucket of warm water with some towels and leave us alone." The boss left the room without reply, and the man switched off the spotlight, leaving the door open to illuminate the small room. Moments later the water and towels arrived and the two were left alone in the dim light. "Hold still," the man warned her as he moistened a towel and ran it gently across her back. She grimaced and held her breath, determined not to make a sound as he slowly removed the first layer of filth. She bit her lower lip to keep from objecting as he ran a towel between her legs but he made no attempts at touching her sexually and he was soon finished. The man then reached up to her outstretched arms, exploring her bonds. He supported her body with one arm as he released her. "Can you stand?" he asked gently and finding after a moment that she could she nodded her head. The man moved away and withdrew a bottle of water and a small Baggie from the deep pockets of his coat. "I am going to get you out of this hell hole, but they won't let you leave awake. These are mild sedatives, they will knock you out for a few hours but shouldn't have any side effects. Otherwise they will have to inject you with the same thing they used when they took you, and I understand that results in a whopper of a headache. Will you take them?" It was the promise of water and her parched throat that made the decision for her as she whispered her agreement. He held the bottle to her lips and she drank greedily, then opened her mouth, willingly taking the small pills. The man took off his coat and wrapped it around her frail body, drawing her close to him and holding her upright for several minutes as he waited for the sedatives to kick in. Soon the girl was enveloped in blissful darkness. She awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented as she realized she was lying in a bed covered in a soft blanket. Stranger still she found she was wearing a simple nightgown and her hair was damp, smelling faintly of strawberries. She realized she must have been bathed and dressed while still asleep. A few minutes later the door opened and the man entered, carrying a tray. "How did you sleep sweetheart?" he asked. "Don't call me that!" she objected and the man laughed. "Would you prefer slut, or maybe whore?" She glared at him without further response and he smiled. "Sweetheart it is then." He sat down in the chair next to her bed, setting the tray on the nightstand, lifting the bowl and filling a spoon. She reached for the spoon hungrily. "Hands down," he ordered, holding the spoon to her lips. She was too hungry to resist further and she opened her mouth, allowing him to spoon feed her. The oatmeal tasted of cinnamon and while in her past life it would not have been her first choice for breakfast now she was so famished that she soon emptied the bowl. He handed her a mug of warm sweet tea and she sipped it gratefully. When she finished he offered her use of the bathroom and she readily accepted. He led her out of the room to the next door over. "There are toiletries in the top drawer," he offered. "Use whatever you need and come find me when you are done." The simple act of brushing her teeth was thrilling and she ran a brush through her shoulder length hair, pulling it back and securing it with a simple hair tie. Leaving the bathroom she found her way around a corner to a simply furnished living room. He was sitting on a couch waiting expectantly. "Have a seat," he prompted, gesturing to a chair directly across from him. "I am sure you have questions, but I get my answers first. What is your name?" She hesitated but could think of nothing she would gain from refusing to answer. "Hannah," she quietly replied. "Well miss Hannah they tell me you are a virgin. I could have checked when you were unconscious, but I didn't. Were they telling the truth?" This question was more personal and drew a hesitant confirmation. "Where did they take you from Hannah?" The girl named a small college town in Arizona and he nodded in response. "College towns are their favorite hunting ground. You can ask me questions now, but choose carefully. I will only answer three." The girl sat quietly contemplating for a few moments before inquiring, "Where are we?" The man's response came quickly, "In the outskirts of Denver, about fifteen miles from the nearest neighbor and two hours from the closest Walmart." He intentionally stressed their isolation. "What is your name?" This query caught him somewhat by surprise. "You can call me James while we are alone, but in the presence of others it is Master." The girl rolled her eyes, but wisely looked down when he frowned at her response. The next question was nearly whispered, "Why me?" He thought for a moment, carefully considering how to word his reply. "I am not looking for a mindless fuck toy Hannah. I am sure as intelligent as you are you've come to the conclusion that you are here to be trained as a sexual slave, but I am also looking for a companion. I suspect you will be harder to train than most, but I look forward to the challenge." She clenched her fists and he wondered if she would lash out, but she quickly regained her composure and remained passively seated. "Enough for now," he said. "I have work to do. You may browse the bookshelf or watch TV but don't leave this room. I will see you in awhile." When he quietly returned he found her standing at the glass doors leading to the deck. "The door is alarmed, I will know instantly if you open it. Besides it is just over twenty degrees outside. I suppose you could try walking fifteen miles in the snow but I highly doubt you would make it far before hypothermia sets in. I know you want to leave, but I don't think you want to die." She turned away without a word, returning to a chair by the fireplace where a book lay open. He moved to the adjacent kitchen, where he stood at the island preparing lunch while observing her casually. Her back was facing him, but her fingers nervously twisted the bottom of her ponytail and he questioned her focus on the book. When the food was ready he spread the simple fare out on the table and called her over. She stubbornly ignored him and he shrugged, dishing up his own plate. It wasn't long before the smells won her over and she joined him at the small kitchen table. He let her eat her fill before beginning his inquisition. "You are 24 years old Hannah, and a beautiful girl. Yet still a virgin. How far have you gone with a guy? How many have there been?" She flushed and looked down, refusing to respond. "Don't make me force it out of you Hannah. When I ask you a question I expect a response." She lifted her eyes and stared him down, but as he reached for her she answered and he withdrew his arm. "There haven't been any guys. They've never touched me." He raised his eyebrows, "Girls then?" Shocked she quickly responded, "Of course not!" Filing her response away for later he pushed her further, "Have you touched yourself? Do you masturbate Hannah?" At that she averted her gaze, but again she was silent. "How often? Daily? Weekly?" Swallowing she finally replied, "Depends. Usually a few times a week." Grinning he gently tucked his fingers under her chin, tilting her gaze back toward him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of sweetheart. A healthy sex drive is a good thing. What do you think about when you finger fuck yourself?" Reaching her limits at last she stood, lunging toward him across the table and battering his chest with her fists. He flipped her around, grasping her tightly around the waist and drawing her toward him pinning her back against his stomach. "That's it sweetheart, I knew you had it in you," he whispered in her ear. "Tell me Hannah, or I'll make you talk." She continued to struggle against him. "Suit yourself," he declared. "Let's go downstairs and I'll give you the grand tour." He pushed her ahead of him out of the kitchen stopping at the top of the stairs and releasing her. "Walk down Hannah, I don't want you tripping." The girl crossed her arms over her chest and stood still. Sighing he leaned against the wall to wait her out. Her legs tired before his did, he noticed her slumping and gently took her wrist. "Go on sweetheart." Pushing him away she decended, stopping at the bottom of the staircase at a locked door. He slipped past her, opening the combination lock and drawing her through the door, which he closed and locked with the same lock. "Extra insurance," he explained. "Should something happen to me you'll be stuck down here to starve, so don't do anything stupid." The basement was partially finished and unheated. He escorted her into the main room. She tensed as she took in her surroundings. An obviously homemade St. Andrew's Cross sat in one corner, the nearby wall was covered in the traditional whips and chains. Pushed up against another wall was a padded exercise bench, next to it sat a wooden dining room table equipped with leather straps on each leg. "Pleasant place you have here," she quipped, struggling to hide the trembling in her voice. "Nothing fancy, but it will do the trick" he responded. "Strip," he ordered as he turned her back to her, approaching the cross. "I don't mind you covered upstairs, but down here you stay naked." She stood staring at his back as he attached cuffs to the cross until he turned to face her. "The gown goes Hannah. You can take it off or I can cut it off, but I'm not going to continue providing you with clothing I have to remove myself." Reluctantly the girl pulled the gown over her head, leaving her completely naked in front of him. "Are you going to come over here yourself, or do I need to drag you over?" Her stubborn stance his answer, he moved across the room toward her, tossing the girl over his shoulder and depositing her unceremoniously in front of the cross. Surprisingly her struggles were minimal as he cuffed her hands, though she did attempt to kick him before he cuffed her ankles securely. "Comfortable?" He inquired. "Not like you care," the girl grumbled. He grabbed the side of her face, forcing her gaze on his and silently daring her to look away. "Contrary to what you believe Hannah, my concern is genuine. I have no intention of injuring you and unlike others you have recently come in contact with I am not sadistic. Aspects of your training may cause discomfort and when I need to punish you it will hurt, but I am not going to hang you from the rafters and whip you until you scream simply for my pleasure." "Right, you'll just come up with reasons to justify punishing me and expect me to believe it's all my fault." No longer subdued, the girl was becoming openly confrontational. "They already tried beating you into submission sweetheart, and it wasn't effective. I don't waste time using methods that don't work. This is not punishment Hannah, it is discipline. There is a significant difference." Choosing not to continue engaging in a pointless argument he walked across the room to a set of built in cabinets and drawers. He returned and stood in front of her, holding up the toy in his hand. "Do you know what this is Hannah?" "I know a vibrator when I see it. I'm not stupid," she scoffed. Running the fingers of one hand teasingly across her abdomen he replied, "That I know, I never implied that you were stupid. How innocent you are, however, has yet to be determined. I think you will enjoy this, though I am sure you won't admit it yet." At that he flipped the vibrator on and ran it along the inside of one thigh. "Don't touch me!" she snarled as he began the ascent on her next thigh. "I'm not touching you Hannah, not a finger. Not yet anyway. Do you remember what I asked you upstairs? What do you think about when you masturbate?" "That's none of your business," she insisted. "You were bought and paid for my dear, that makes everything about you my business, and I do mean everything." He moved the vibrator between her thighs, settling it gently just below her clit. "Stop it!" He ignored her for a few moments before coaxing her further, "I will if you really want me too, after you answer my question." Biting her lower lip and closing her eyes the girl fought to maintain her facade of control. He pushed the vibrator firmly against her groin, just barely brushing it against her clit before moving it lower again. "Sweet Hannah, how long do you think you can hold out? You needn't tell me everything at once, but you need to start somewhere. Take your time, I could gladly do this all day." The silent standoff continued, the only sounds in the room the buzzing of the vibrator and the girl's increasingly heavy breathing. Every once and awhile he would adjust the position of the vibrator, teasing her clit gently before withdrawing it. Soon the girl was whimpering in frustration every time the vibrator was removed. As soon as she realized what she was doing she recognized continuing resistance was futile. "Fine, sometimes I think about being spanked," she conceded. "Hmm...do you like being spanked?" he inquired, again circling her clit. She bristled in response. "No I don't like it. I'm not masochistic. I like thinking about it. That's why they're called fantasies." "Fair enough, that's your start Hannah. Don't stop now. What implements do you think about being spanked with?" The teasing continued relentlessly. "Hands mostly. Maybe a hairbrush or a paddle. Definitely not whips." Her responses were no longer hesitant, as if admitting loss of control absolved her from the shame surrounding the expression of her fantasies. He nodded his understanding. "Agreed. While a whip handled properly does not necessarily break skin they are typically one of the more painful implements. It may be interesting to experiment with a flogger, but we'll leave that for later." He teased her just a few moments more, "Do you want me to stop Hannah? I will if you want me too, or I can finish you off. Your choice." The girl sighed, surprising him. He had expected a stronger, more urgent response. "Yes, stop. Please." It wasn't begging, it was an honest request, so he immediately withdrew the vibrator. "See, it wasn't that hard. You need to be honest with yourself sweetheart, as well as being honest with me. I'm not going to push you further than you are ready to go." He walked across the room again, sanitizing the vibrator before replacing it in the drawer. He then took a cup from the upper cupboard, filling it with water from a small sink. He held it to her lips and she drank thankfully. Placing the cup aside he gently released her from the cuffs, scooping her up in his arms before she could resist. He took her out of the main room and turned through another door in the more finished area of the basement. The room was furnished only with a small nightstand and a double bed, which he placed her on gently. Moving to a closet just outside the room he removed a heavy blanket, tossing it on the bed next to her. "Cover up. I want you to cool off, not freeze to death. Oh, and don't even think about finishing yourself off Hannah. I will know if you come." With that warning he left the room, locking the door behind him and leaving her alone with her thoughts. Upstairs he located his phone and quickly accessed the feed to the infrared camera in the basement bedroom. He was fairly certain he hadn't pushed her too far, but he certainly had pushed her and he needed to be sure. She lay on the bed covered with the blanket, showing no sign of distress and obviously not attempting to masturbate. Appeased he went about his regular activities for the next couple of hours. She startled when the door opened, sitting up and drawing the blanket around her. "Fold the blanket please," he requested and she complied willingly, possibly motivated by the terry cloth robe he held in his arms. When the blanket sat folded on the end of the bed he held the robe out, helping her slip it on rather than allowing her to do it herself. "Dinner is ready," he prompted and she followed him out of the basement, where he paused to lock the door again before leading her up the stairs and into the kitchen. She paused with some concern, surveying the changes. Two plates sat on the kitchen table, but one of the chairs had been removed and replaced with a well padded cushion on the floor. He barely succeeded at holding back a chuckle as she stubbornly folded her arms across her chest and started nibbling at her bottom lip. Oh how he loved that tell, the delicious combination of sheer will and carefully shielded nervousness! Turning her toward him, he lifted her chin and prompted her to make eye contact. "Hannah, I need you to understand something that the bastard's trainers and I'd dare say the vast majority of his clientele do not understand. Any trainer can break any slave's will, given enough time and determination. However I have absolutely no interest in breaking your will. This is not punishment, nor is it intended to be demeaning. What I am inviting you to do is willingly submit. Choosing to do so does not imply that you are weak, instead it testifies to your inner strength and sufficient confidence to allow someone else to care for you. I refuse to starve you to force compliance and if you wish to do so you may take your meal to the bar and eat it there, but I truly hope that you will join me. The choice is yours." At that he sat himself in the chair. He honestly didn't know what choice she would make, but he was not concerned either way. The girl stood carefully considering her options, unwilling to rush into making a decision. She inched closer to the table and eyed the plate of food. He had prepared a simple stir fry with a side of fresh fruit. Hesitantly she moved toward the cushion, glancing at it uncertainly. He waved his hand toward the cushion invitingly, "You can sit or kneel, whichever is more comfortable."