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Rehabilitating Lena Ch. 01

By: CaitlyCate



She sighed and rolled her eyes. She thought it was subtle but enough to get the point across. He punched the pillow next to her head then locked himself in the bathroom. It was going to end up in another fight. He knew it, she knew it. 

She banged her head against the pillow. "Damn." His cum was smeared over her cunt and close to leaking onto the bed. She put her pajamas back on that lay in a pile on the floor and trudged to the bathroom door. "Keith...please..." she whined like a puppy wanting to be let in.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I made you mad. It's just that..."

The door flew open. "What? You can't get off and that's my problem?"

"Well, if you last longer..."

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I'm fine! It's you and your fucking fantasies. You don't share them and blame me for your unhappiness. I can't keep up with you. Guess what, sweetheart, you can spend all the time you want on your computer reading smut and getting off from your videos." He pushed his way around her to get back into the bedroom. "Or better, you can find someone else to always put you first in sex. I'm done." The duffle bag came out from under the bed. It was the dreaded sign that the argument was taken too far. She was the one who usually packed her things in a rage then came home sulking two hours later. 

"No...please..."

"Don't bother begging." He rummaged through the dresser drawers and threw random pieces of clothing into the bag. 

"I need you. You have no idea what I'm going through!"

He flung the closet doors open and grabbed several shirts, one of them he put on. "You're right. I don't." He snatched his jeans and shoes from the floor and finished dressing. "And I'm sorry you're bipolar is acting up. Another thing I can't take anymore..." The last possessions he packed were his laptop and power cord. 

Tears of resentment streamed down her face. "This IS a part of my illness."

"If I hear one more excuse about your damn illness..."

"Fuck! I'm a sex addict!" He stopped zipping his bag and stared at her. Her voice dropped to a hushed tone. "I was diagnosed yesterday."

The disgust on his face broke her heart before his harsh words did. "Then I really can't be with you. Addicts don't care about their loved ones, just their addiction." He flinched at the word 'addiction.' 

She saw the reawakening of painful memories in his eyes as he stared at her, seeing someone else. "I'm not like your mother was. I care about you. I love you." She moved close to hold his hands. "We can get through this together."

He recoiled and put the bag on his shoulder. "No, I don't want to." Before the tears could fall from his eyes, he bolted from the room. "The wedding's off."

There was no chance even if she tried to chase him. She fell to the floor and listened to his car drive away.

~~~~~

When she was depressed, she clung onto his pillow and wept. In an instant, she would be up and pacing the house. The mania lasted no more than a few hours. Then, she would collapse back in bed and watch her phone. Every hour, she would call him. Sometimes twice an hour. She left tearful voicemails or ones of indecipherable screaming. She drank and brought out the razor blades. But the blade only hovered over her wrist, never drawing blood.

Four days after he left, she woke up but didn't reach for the phone. Her forearm lay across her throbbing head. She rubbed her scalp and felt her greasy hair. It was a debate for which one first: a shower or breakfast. Her rancid hair and the dirt under her fingernails convinced her that getting clean was the most important concern at the moment. 

The hot water calmed her mind and slowed it enough for her to think clearly. She scrubbed off the filth of her dysfunctional and dependent life and stepped out of the shower as a brave and capable woman.

She fixed herself a bowl of cereal, the kind with cartoon mascots on the box, and grabbed a legal pad. She made plans and back-up plans for living arrangements. She budgeted her disability income and created a list of what possessions were technically hers, even though she was willing to give up anything to avoid a fight with Keith.

When she was done she opened the blinds to all the windows, illuminating the dreariness inside. It was a beautiful and sunny summer day. She felt the need to be caressed by the sun's warming rays for at least a few minutes. The trashcans were overflowing and the mail needed to be brought in. It was a good enough excuse to get some fresh air. She carried the trash outside and collected the mail that was almost falling out of the box. As she walked back, she carefully shuffled through the ads and envelopes. Nothing needed to be opened right away. She dumped it on a stand in the entryway. 

Her next task made her hesitate. She stood in front of the door, biting her lip and whimpering. Reluctantly, she poured a glass of milk and went to her nightstand where she kept her pills. The four bottles stood waiting for her after several days of being ignored. As much as she hated the reminder that she was sick, she knew their reason was to make her better. She took the morning dosage and rinsed out the glass.

She went to her desk and turned the computer on. Instead of checking her favorite dirty story and porn websites for new content, she went straight to her private blog. The last entry was two months ago, the day they were engaged. She clicked the 'new post' button and started typing. A half an hour later, she read over the apologetic love letter to Keith. She wrote about her willingness to get better, her sexual fantasies, how she improved over the past year, and why she wanted to be his wife. She titled it: 'To my sweet husband who never will be.'

For the first time that day she broke down. With her face hidden in her hands, she whispered, "Keep moving." She clicked 'publish' and started to clean the house. After a couple hours of work, she packed her bags and got ready to leave the next day. Sleep came quicker to her that night.

~~~~~

When it went to voicemail, she moaned remembering her parents were vacationing in Hawaii and wouldn't be back until the next week. Scowling, she called her sister, her back-up plan. Even though it was a love-hate relationship with her, she was desperate. Her sister was sympathetic and invited Lena to stay with her.

She ended the call and studied the gleaming diamond on her hand. It was worth rent money if she chose to sell it. But she worked it off her finger and placed it on the kitchen counter for him to find it. She juggled the phone, picked it up and set it down. "Get it done and over with." She pressed the call button next to his number. As it rang, she rehearsed the simple, emotionless message she would leave. But the third ring was interrupted. 

"Lena?" There was undeniable fear in his voice. The shock left her silent. "Lena, you there?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm here." The only sound on his end was a few shuddered sighs. "I just wanna..." She sniffled as softly as she could. "I just wanna let you know that I'll be out of the house by this afternoon. Ok, umm, bye." 

She heard a "Wait!" as she took the phone from her ear.

"I'm here," she said as she quickly replaced it.

"We need to talk. I'm coming home."

A smile of hope broke through her tears. "Alright."

"Lena?"

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me you didn't hurt yourself."

"I didn't."

"I was scared that..." He sighed. "We'll talk when I get home. Bye."

"Bye." She set the phone down and paced around the dining table for twenty minutes until the front door opened. She went to the living room but didn't rush to him. He shut the door and dropped his bag. He took off his sunglasses; his eyes were red and swollen. They stared at each other, his hands nervously juggled his keys, her hands repeatedly straightened her shirt and brushed her hair behind her ears.

He nodded to the couch. "Let's sit." They didn't embrace or even touch each other and sat apart as if strangers. "I'm sorry I left without talking about it."

"You had a reason to leave."

"I was angry and I'm sorry I didn't call. I just didn't want to admit that I was an asshole. And I started feeling guilty and was waiting for a call..." He swallowed and hid his face. "For someone to call to tell me that you killed yourself." The thought created fresh tears. He brushed his hand under his eyes. "You promise you didn't hurt yourself?"

She stuck out her unmarked forearms. "Promise."

"Sleeping pills?" She shook her head. "You look good. You look ok."

"I managed. But not at first."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

She cringed. "Only yesterday and this morning."

"Are you manic?"

"I don't think I am."

"Depressed? Wanting to kill yourself?"

As rough as his interrogation, she stayed strong. "Depressed, yes. Suicidal, no." She could tell in his eyes that he believed her. 

He broke away from her gaze and observed the room. "It looks nice in here." Her head dropped, hiding a blush from a rare compliment. "I'm gonna get something to drink." He went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet. As he set it down on the counter, he noticed the ring. 

"Fuck," he whispered. He carried it in his palm to the living room. "You're ready to let me go? You've given up already?" He thrust his open hand in front of her face.

"No! Of course not! I didn't want to seem needy. You don't deserve me. I realize that. I couldn't hold you back."

"No, baby, don't say that. I can't live without you, even how cliché that is." He sat and put his arms around her. "We'll get through this, just..." He pressed the ring into her hand. "Don't give up."

Minutes later, their sweaty, naked bodies were crushed together on the floor. His slow thrusts teased her at first, but when they continually hit the right angle, she cried out each time he pushed into her. Her eyes rolled back as her legs quivered from an overdue orgasm. Her calves gripped his sides, pulling him in closer to her. He responded by pressing his chest tightly against her breasts. He laid his head next to her; his warm, shuddered breath sighed in her ear. She felt his muscles tightened up against her as he expelled an immense load into her saturated pussy. He lay next to her and petted her head which lay on his chest.

"Lena?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. I wish it could always be like this."

"It will be."

"No, you're an addict. It won't." He was more sorrowful than mean. She propped herself up on an elbow. "If we're gonna be together, you're gonna have to follow my rules." The determination in his eyes and the sternness of his words sent shivers down her spine. "If you want to be my wife, then I expect you to work hard. We'll work on your addiction and getting you healthy again."

"Umm, rules?"

"Until you're functioning again, you will listen to me." Physically, he was the same Keith that she knew just a few minutes ago. But his eyes grew darker, and his lips were no longer fixed in their normal natural smile. He raised his eyebrows when he spoke with authority. Suddenly, he became more seductive. 

"But what if I break them? I can't be perfect."

"I'm not expecting perfection. Bad days happen even if you're taking your pills properly."

"I know, but you didn't answer my question."

The corner of his mouth turned up a little. "I have some ideas...based on the post you wrote." 

"How did you..."

"Did you forget? I get an e-mail whenever you write in your journal. I've read each post. Though you never talked about your addiction."

"I didn't think it was a problem until recently."

"Now I know everything about your dark secrets. You poured your heart out in that entry."

Her face rapidly turned crimson. "Well, they are just stupid fantasies. You know...just curious...that I might want to try those things just once."

He laughed. "Don't even try that. And don't be embarrassed. We all have perverted fantasies." He cleared his throat; his demeanor switched quickly. "I will give you the rules tomorrow." She put her head back on his chest. She felt his heart beat as fast as hers. "I had no idea you craved pain that much. Does that explain the cutting?" She inhaled sharply and didn't answer. "From now on you will not hurt yourself. If you want pleasure from pain, it will be my job to give it to you."

Her moist pussy was crying to be fucked again. "I need to use the bathroom." She got up to take care of her problem. The noise from the smack scared her more than the swat itself. She jumped and faced him.

"Make it quick," he said with a wink. She gulped and smiled nervously. As soon as she was out of sight, her fingers started attacking her clit. She faced the bathroom mirror and watched herself working her soppy cunt. She turned to observe the red handprint on her ass. Her fingers stroked herself harder and faster as she stared at the mark.

He heard her gasp then moan from the bathroom. He chuckled then brought his attention back to his plan for the next day.

~~~~~

"Wake up," Keith called to her. In her drowsiness, she couldn't tell if she was still dreaming. "Up, Lena." Her eyes were still shut, but she was slowly waking up. "Lena, wake up now!" She jolted and opened her eyes.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's time to get up."

Her eyes adjusted to the dimness. He was standing, arms crossed, next to the bed. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and turned it on. 6:04 AM. "It's six."

"I know." He whipped the blanket off of her.

"What the hell are you doing?" She reached for the sheets.

He pointed a finger at her. "You will not speak to me that way. Get up. You're not sleeping in until eleven anymore."

"Ok! Geez..." She stumbled to the bathroom and tried to keep her eyes open. She pissed, then stumbled back out, yawning and groaning.

He handed her a glass of water. "Start drinking." Too tired to object, she started sipping. "Get dressed. We're going for a walk." 

The simple task of putting her clothes on was too painful to do quickly. Her joints felt the aching. Her head felt dizzy. And balancing was a problem. But as she stepped out of the house, the frigid air hit her wide awake. Forty minutes later, they were back from what she felt to be a strenuous walk. Her lungs stung from breathing in the morning chill and her legs started to get sore. She sat at the dining table, head bowed and two hands gripping her glass of water. While she struggled to breathe normally, he made himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table. 

"Why didn't you get me any?"

"Because you're no longer guzzling caffeine every morning. No more coffee."

She stared longingly at the cup. "Why not?"

"Rule number one: Don't question me." 

The last thing she wanted to do was listen to anyone when the weariness put her in a bad mood. "I don't want to do this."

"You don't have a choice. Go take a shower, dry your hair, brush your teeth, put on makeup, and wear something decent including a bra." She stayed rooted and mocked him with an exaggerated eye roll. "Lena, do as I say." His eyes turned dark. "I'm warning you," he spoke with a deep, unnerving growl. The fear got her moving in an instant. After each task, she took a small break and let her mind wander to her fantasies. That voice he used, that new and demanding tone was making her curious. And turned on. She flicked at her clit a little, wishing that she could ignore his demands and indulge herself. 

When she was decent, she went to kitchen. He was in front of his laptop at the dining table. In one hand was his third cup of coffee, the other was clicking and scrolling the mouse. His eyes were concentrated on the screen.

She stood closer to get his attention. He looked up at his beautiful fiancée. Her long blonde hair was blow-dried and soft with a bit of a natural wave. Her button-up shirt was plaid and purple with a few ruffles. The top three buttons were left undone. The denim skirt she wore was tight and seductive, but not overly suggestive. Her makeup was simple. She never needed much. Just a touch of color to her pale face and a coat of mascara made her a goddess.

He hid his smile and nodded in approval. "Good. Now get started on breakfast. We'll both have eggs and toast."

"Not cereal?"

"Not the kind you eat."

"Umm, what kind of eggs? You know I don't know how to cook them any way. But toast I can do."

He handed her a paper with numbered instructions. 

"Scrambled."

She skimmed the detailed recipe meant for beginners. But the intimidation was still there. "I can't do this. I'm too stupid to..."

"Rule number two: don't put yourself down." His eyes narrowed again. She gulped and nodded. 

Fifteen minutes later, she had divided the scrambled eggs to two plates. She shook as she set one in front of him.

"Thank you," he said, still absorbed with his laptop. He took a bite. When he swallowed without wincing, she sighed. "Overdone but edible. Toast?"

"Oh, I forgot." She toasted and buttered the bread quickly while holding onto her growling stomach. She served them with two pieces each.

It was a quiet meal. He was still on his laptop, and she stared at the back of it while she ate her eggs slowly. She was waiting to crunch into a shell. Or worse, waiting to throw up in case she gave them food poisoning. She picked the dishes up and tossed them in the sink. 

He caught her before she could leave the kitchen. "Wash the dishes." 

"You know you're really starting to annoy me." They stared each other down. He got up and in a flash, moved his chair away from the table. He raced to her and tried to grab her. Her hands went up in surrender. "But I'll clean up anyway." The warning was clear. He raised an eyebrow and put his hands on his hips. With a single nod, he went back to the chair and put it back at the table.

While she scrubbed the food off the dishes, she tried to guess what his intentions were. Like why he pulled the chair far from the table and tried to grab her. It was a similar instance to one of her favorite naughty videos. A pissed off boyfriend is sitting at a table, takes the armless chair a few feet away, grabs his defiant girlfriend, and throws her over his lap. Lena gulped and trembled as she put away the last dried dish. The images of the video were stuck in her head. She repeatedly saw his hand land across the ass of his wailing girlfriend. His arm stopped high in the air each time before he struck her. It looked painful, sounded painful, but she wanted it.

She realized she was lost in her thoughts and staring at the kitchen sink, but he didn't notice her daydreaming. "Alright, I'm done."

"Make the bed and get your purse."

"Why?" It wasn't meant to be an impertinent question; she was curious. But when he gave her a sharp look, she relented. He waited in the living room as she scrambled to make the bed and search for her purse. Then, he led her to the car, and they started driving toward downtown. "Where are we going?"

"To buy some things..." he said with a devilish smile. "For your training."

"My training? What are you talking about?" But she knew and tried to bluff him with innocent eyes.

He shook his head. "I told you I've read what you wanted. And it's gonna happen, now. I think it's the only way you'll listen to me."

"Wha...what's gonna happen?"

"We might as well make it fun for us both. I kept dreaming about it last night. You, tied up, red-bottom and sulking. The collar around your neck...I just wanna cum all over your face." 

They both left reality for a second to savor the fantasy. "So, I'm gonna be your slave?" She tried but couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of her voice.

"When you have your collar on, yes." 

She stared at him as her pussy began to throb. Her converted fiancé was taking to the dominant position well. "Will I have to call you Master?" 

"We'll talk about that later. We need to focus on getting the right equipment."


Rehabilitating Lena Ch. 01



The words came out before she had a chance to think. "You don't have to do this."

He snatched her hand and held it. "I do. You need me to lead. You need me to fulfill your sexual needs. You need the discipline and for me to be strict with you. I'm willing to try this. I have four months to make you a complete and functioning person. Which brings me to rule number three: don't give up."

They parked in front of a sex shop that neither paid any attention to before. It was hidden in a shopping center, existing and ignored by most of the locals. Lena gazed at the windows displaying mannequins in barely covering lingerie. Her palms became sweaty, and she felt nauseated. Cringing, she followed him into the store. Her eyes swept the small but well stocked room. They were the only customers. A man and a woman were at the counter, talking. The man excused himself to go to the back of the store.

"Can I help you with anything?" the pink and black haired young woman asked them.

"We'll just look for now," Keith said. She nodded and started to straighten the shelves behind her.

Lena gripped his arm in protection and was about to mention going back home to order whatever he needed online. He towed her along and cruised the aisles. He stopped at a shelf and scanned the various remote vibrators. She peeked around her, blushing and ready to run out. He studied the back of the packaging of a few promising ones. "Hmm, ok. Hold this." He shoved the one he liked best into her hands and led her farther in to the store. 

She flipped the small package around, read its specifics, and learned how ten speeds will drive your lover wild. The pink bullet looked harmless and the least humiliating toy she would be caught with. Then she looked up at the next aisle, the one devoted to bondage and discipline. She took a step back and pretended to be busy reading the packaging of the remote again. He laid another object on top of the package. The word, 'adjustable' caught her eye. She looked closer at the nipple clamps, trying to gauge how painful the rubber-tipped traps could be.

On top of those, he put a small black bag containing silk ties and a blindfold in her arms. He took his time to pick a gag, and took more time choosing a flogger and a crop. Her face blushed as she carried the objects around the store. She dreaded having to go to the front to pay. But he wasn't done. At another shelf he added a plug to the pile. The size of it made her gasp. Then, they stopped at the jewelry section. Next to the assortment of body jewelry hung three types of collars.

"I'm letting you choose," he said as he brushed back the hair from her face. 

One had spikes and studs. Another was less frightening with red hearts. The last one said, 'bitch.' She nodded to the one in the middle. "The hearts. The others are too hardcore, and I'm nobody's bitch." He laughed out loud. The employee heard and laughed too. She hid her face behind her mound of toys. He placed the collar on top. 

"This will be enough for now." She followed him to the front and carefully dropped everything on the counter.

"You could have helped me carry that," Lena said. The cashier glanced at them both with a raised eyebrow.

"She's in training." He said it as if casually making a comment on the weather. The woman nodded and went back to ringing up the items. Lena had to physically bite her tongue.

The woman held the plug up. "If it's her first time I would recommend a smaller one or a beginner's kit." Keith looked at the toy and nodded in agreement. "I'll show you." She led him to the anal products. While her fiancé showed no modesty at all, she could almost feel the burn in her face. He returned and placed the new plug on the counter. She swooped it up to read the blurb on its box, but he was quick to take it away.

"You'll have time to admire your toys later."

"Whatever." Scowling and wondering if her face could be any more scarlet, she crossed her arms and pretended to be preoccupied with the miscellaneous merchandise spread out on the counter.

"If I talked to my master like that..." the cashier whispered. Lena turned back to argue and explain, but she couldn't find the words. "Do you need batteries?" 

"Yeah, please." She reached under the counter and scanned the special 'N' batteries used for the remote vibrator. "Lube?"

"Umm...actually, I think we'll need more."

She picked a bottle on the shelf next to her and finished ringing up the items. While Lena gaped at the $317.55 including tax, he didn't hesitate to swipe his card. 

"Thank you, have a nice day." 

"You too." He took the two bags, and they left. Nothing could have kept her in that store any longer. She walked briskly out the door and didn't look back. In the car, she rummaged through her purse for her sunglasses, a disguise to hide from the world. Though she didn't know who could be watching.

When she entered the house, she mumbled that she had to piss and disappeared in to the bathroom. When she came back out, he was already opening the boxes. "Sit on the bed."

She sat at the end and tucked her hands under her crossed legs. 

"Look at me," he said with his usual gentle tone. "I will only do this if you consent. You'll wear your collar part-time for training, so this isn't an ongoing and forever thing. During those times your body is mine. You'll obey my rules, but if you don't you will be physically punished and humiliated. But if you're good, you'll be rewarded. Only I am allowed to put your collar on you and take it off. Now, choose a safe word. I promise everything will stop if you say it."

"Umm...violet."

"Alright, the safe word is violet." From his pocket, he took out a folded paper and handed it to her. "These are your rules. You will follow all of these, collared or not. At any time you break one, I'll put the collar on you, and you'll be punished."

There were eleven rules, strict and to the point. It would be impossible to start off perfectly, that she knew. But she wanted to make him happy and pleased with her. She wanted to try to get better.

"Do you consent?"

She bit her lip and studied him. He was far different from the man she knew two days ago. And she wanted to know him and learn everything about his new side. She wanted to call him Master and serve him. At least, she wanted a taste of her new life as a submissive, to see if the kinkiness would calm her repressed needs. 

"I consent."

He gave her a mischievous grin. "Let's get started." She tried to keep her eagerness from showing, but her fiery eyes and trembling hands betrayed her. "Undress. Everything off."

Her hands kept shaking as she lingered peeling the clothing off of her. The small and subtle striptease was enough for him to silently and firmly will his cock to stay soft. With her thumbs locked into her panties, she slid them down her hips slowly, then kicked them away. Feeling that it was the right thing to do, she bowed her head to prove her respect for her new master.

"Kneel." Just as slowly as she undressed, she took her time sinking down to her knees. He walked away briefly then squatted in front of her. She felt the leather slip around her neck. "Look at me when I put your collar on. I want to see my girl's beautiful eyes."

He buckled the collar and tested its tightness. With a finger hooked into the metal ring, he tugged and prompted her to stand with him. Her hand went straight to the collar. Feeling the leather capture her neck evoked unfamiliar emotions. Mostly fear of her lack of freedom, but also wanting to be used for his sexual needs. She was in strange territory, yet she was ready to play the part. Seeing that his fiancée was still quaking and breathing shallow, he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her passionately to calm her nerves. He broke away to grab the paper.

"I want you in position. On your knees and spread them. I wanna see your cunt. Head down and hands resting on your knees." She winced while she fixed herself the awkward position. The muscles in her legs felt strained immediately. She couldn't imagine any amount of time in that position would make it more comfortable. He placed the paper on the floor in front of her. "Read this out loud, please."

"Lena's rules. Number one: don't question my master. Two, don't put myself down. Three, don't give up. Four, do exactly as my doctors tell me to do. Five, no lying. Six, don't be disrespectful. Seven, don't do anything that would put myself in danger. Eight, submit to punishment. Nine, follow my routine. Ten..." She paused and continued weakly. "Work on my screenplays every day." Her passion for screenwriting was strong, but her laziness had gotten in the way of her achieving anything from it. "Eleven, respond with 'Master' or 'Sir.'"

She cleared her throat and cringed at what she read. "Failure to comply with these rules will result in being collared and punished. Punishments include: spankings with hand, hairbrush, belt, crop, or use of the whip. Soap for lying and cussing. Corner time. Being tied up for a period of time with or without the use of toys. Loss of privileges such as walking or having an orgasm."

Her voice choked as she read the last paragraph. "My master promises to respond to the safe word. He also promises never to humiliate me in front of family or friends. He promises to love me forever and forgive me when I fail." Fear faded and was replaced with tears. 

He tilted her head up. "Sweet Lena, I love you. I don't want to call you slave, because I don't want one. I don't want to call you bitch or slut, because I have more respect for you than that. I'll simply call you 'girl.' You act immature at times, and by the time of our wedding, you'll grow out of that childish name." His finger stroked her face; she smiled from his gentle words. "You're in training now. And we will both make mistakes. Understand, girl?"

She nodded.

"Excuse me, but what is rule number eleven?"

She looked down at the paper. "Respond with 'Master' or 'Sir.'"

"And did you break that rule?" His tenderness was fading quickly.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"You're not catching on, are you girl?" She looked at him blankly. "You said, 'yes." It's 'yes, Sir!'" In a swift and fluid motion, he yanked her up by the arm and landed a sharp smack to her ass.

"Ow!" Her hands went to her behind to block any more blows.

"Now, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir, yessir!"

"Good. You have forty minutes to shave under your arms, your legs, and your cunt. When you are done, stay undressed, get back in position, and memorize your rules." He cupped her chin and gave her another sensuous kiss that made her go limp against his body.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered.

~~~~~

The forty minute mark was approaching quickly. Shaving under her arms was easy. Her legs hadn't been shaved in a week, but the hair wasn't clogging her razor. The untamed bush hiding her cunt was trouble. It had only been completely shaved once, a few months before. She remembered how to do it properly, but she couldn't help but shave over the same areas more than twice. The burn made her give up. She cried at the stubble she couldn't get.

She dried and moisturized and prepared to plead her case about the stubborn hair she couldn't get to. But she smiled when she saw herself in the mirror. She straightened the collar and admired how it looked like it belonged on her, like it completed her. The strip of black and red encircling her pale neck appeared to be more of a beautiful adornment than a reminder of her servitude.

He wasn't in the bedroom; she could hear him typing and the mouse clicking from his office. At the same place as before, she got on her knees and modified the position to where it was a tad more comfortable until she could hear him leave his computer.

"Okay...rule one..." For each rule, she associated an image or a word to help her remember. But her concentration was waning from the soreness in her body. Hunger was another issue. And she realized that she had not taken her morning pills. With those thoughts bombarding her mind, she made mistakes when she quizzed herself. The sound of his squeaky computer chair startled her. She cracked her neck and perfected her pose. 

"Stand, girl." She suppressed a groan with a quiet grunt when she lifted her stiff body off the ground. "Put your arms over your head." He inspected each armpit closely, then crouched and ran his hands over her legs. He sucked in his breath when he came across a few patches she missed. She flinched when he touched her tender cunt. "Explain your poor job of shaving this."

"It's been a while since I've shaved, Sir. I kept trying, but it hurt."

"It looks aggravated. I'll accept your excuse. But the missing parts on your legs are not acceptable."

"But I had to hurry..." The look silenced her. She shut up and bowed her head.

"That will cost you. Fix the spots you missed."

She called out to him as he was leaving. "Wait, Sir!" He nodded for her to speak. "My pills. I haven't taken them yet, Sir."

"Hurry then." Within half a minute, she had a glass of milk in her hand and the bitter pills in the other. She popped two of her medications and a birth control pill in her mouth and quickly gulped down the milk. None of the pills stuck to her tongue, which sometimes caused her to rush to the toilet to vomit. It was one of the reasons she avoided her meds. She rinsed the glass out at the kitchen sink and scurried back to the shower.

Like he did, she ran her hands over her legs and shaved the missed spots twice. She rubbed lotion on her legs again and fell back into her submissive pose. A few seconds later, he entered the room.

"Stand." His hands stroked her from the ankles up close to her pussy where they stopped and pulled away. The teasing motion made her pout. "Good. Very nice," he said as he stood straight. "And thank you for remembering your pills. You redeemed yourself." He brushed her hair back behind her ear and smiled. "Good girl. Now, it's time for lunch." It was her cue to follow him to the kitchen. "I checked the fridge. We have stuff for sandwiches and there's some fruit that's gonna go bad soon." He nudged her in. "Get to it."

Assembling the sandwiches was simple enough. She brought out the bread, meat, spreads, cheese, and as she grabbed the two liter coke bottle, he spoke up. "No coke until I allow you to have some." She hid her face in the fridge so he wouldn't see her scowl and replaced the bottle. 

"As you prepare lunch, I want you to repeat the rules to me. Rule one. Go."

"Umm..." A question mark came to her mind. "Oh, don't question my master."

"Two?"

The image of a down arrow popped into her head. "Don't put myself down."

"Three?"

She froze. Her brain scrambled for the one word she had associated the third rule with. It wasn't coming to her. "Uhh, follow my routine?"

He made the buzzer noise heard on game shows when the contestant fails a question. She stifled a giggle, but he was far from amused. "You're going to be studying again after lunch. But first, I don't think you're taking this seriously." He came into the kitchen and guided her to an empty space on the kitchen counter. "Arms on the counter. Bend over." She bent her body as much as she could.

"Are you going to take this seriously?" he asked as he skimmed the surface of her ass with the palm of his hand.

"Yes, Sir." He brought his hand back far and struck her on the right cheek. With his other hand, he pushed her down before she could jump back. "Stay still! Just tell me the third rule, and I'll let you finish lunch."

"But I don't remember, Sir!"

"Maybe you need incentive." He struck the other side just as hard. She yelped and kicked backward. "Now?"

"I don't know!"

"I'm gonna keep going until you remember." His left hand pushed firmly on her back. He raised his arm and hit the right side again. She whimpered but didn't respond. He smacked her again, alternating sides slowly. After ten, and nothing from her but yelps and squirming, he gave her one last warning. "You better go through all your rules. I told you I'm not stopping."

"I don't remember...OW!" He hit her harder, covering her bottom as fast as he could. He wrestled to keep her pinned down, but that didn't slow the spanking at all. His hand was stinging, and she was putting up a fight.

"Start talking!" he yelled over the loud smacks and her wailing.

"I don't know!" With an amazing amount of strength, she pushed his arm away from her to block her behind.

"Put your hands back on the counter, or it's gonna be worse!" Shaking, she put her arms back in front of her. Even though she was the one with the stinging ass, he felt he was losing. He didn't know how much longer he could last. He gritted his teeth and went at it. 

"Think, Lena! Don't give up, and give me an answer!" He was hoping she would get the hint.

She did. "Don't give up!" she yelled.

"Thank you!" He caught his breath and shook the sting out of his hand. "You can continue now."

She sniffled and whined. "Ow..." She peeled herself away from the counter. Her hand immediately went to her heated ass and rubbed both sides. Silently, she finished making lunch. The sensation of the burn and tingling wasn't very painful when she sat, but interesting and almost pleasurable.

"You did better than I thought. How was your first spanking?"

"Painful, Sir."

"Funny that it happened to you for the first time at twenty-five years old. You're about a couple decades overdue."

"That's because when I caused trouble my parents sent me to a shrink instead." Guilt and sorrow from a troubled childhood took over. She set the sandwich down and stared at her plate. He put his hand on her arm. When she looked at him, he gave her a sympathetic smile that encouraged her to finish her meal. Without an order from him, she started to wash the dishes.

"I want you back in the bedroom memorizing the rules. You may sit on the bed while you do so."

"Yes, Master."

"I gotta make a few calls. Then, I'll come back to you."

It took her only a few minutes to wash the dishes. She dried off the suds that splattered onto her, and went to the bedroom. The burn from the spanking had almost disappeared completely. She sat comfortably on the bed and rehearsed her rules for half an hour.

"Stand." She stood straight, arms behind her back like a soldier at ease, and looked down. "Let's hear it. Number one?"

"Don't question my master."

"Two?"

"Don't put myself down."

"Six?"

"Six..." she whispered. "I don't know. I memorized them in order...I'm not smart enough for that."

His lips tightened. "Rule two, again."

"Uhh...oh, don't put myself down. Oh, fuck."

"Number six!" he yelled.

"I don't know!" He snatched the paper off of the bed and gave it to her. "Don't be disrespectful," she read.

"That means no cussing." He grabbed her arm and led her to the end of the bed where he sat. "I don't want you ever put yourself down again! You broke two rules! Over my knee, now!"

Her hands were almost covering her ears from his screaming. She dropped them immediately and placed herself over his lap. He roughly moved her about until her ass was in the perfect position. He started as hard as her first spanking, but quicker that time. 

It started with frequent "ows." Each slap brought her closer to tears. She shook with dry sobs for a few seconds before the tears blinded her eyes. Besides her crying, all she could hear was the constant SMACK SMACK SMACK!

"No more...please..." She blocked her bottom with right hand. He was quick to pin it to her back. Her legs started to kick. He stopped to trap them with his leg. Completely immobilized and helpless, her next instinct was to scream. He ignored her and kept his rhythm. But he stopped when he felt his cock swell.

"Dammit," he swore under his breath. The sobbing girl didn't notice his hardening dick pressing into her stomach. "Don't put yourself down and don't cuss. Got it?"




Rehabilitating Lena Ch. 01



"Yessir..." she managed to say.

"I want you in the corner." He pushed her off and into a corner, making sure he hid his erection. He placed her hands on her head. "Stay." In a rush, he grabbed the paper and tape from his office. He taped the rules to one of the walls in front of her. "Memorize this. You have fifteen minutes." The last thing she heard was him slamming the door to his office.

Before he could get to his desk, his pants were already dropping. He searched for something to catch his cum and found a crumpled paper towel on his desk. He grabbed himself and furiously jacked off thinking of the red-bottomed girl over his lap. Never had he imagined that spanking his girl would be arousing. But being in the position of power, having her pinned down and whipped for being naughty, her heated ass, her pleas for him to stop, the sound of his open palm hitting her flesh. It was an overload of stimulation.

He was getting near his end. But he wanted to get off in her. Fucking her pussy was out of the question. She didn't deserve it. 

She had twelve more minutes, but he stormed into the bedroom and stopped short to admire the quaking girl in the corner. He moaned and stood behind her. "Turn around and get on your knees." Her eyes went to his erection. She stared at it on her trip down to the floor. "You better give me the best fucking blowjob ever." Without hesitation, she ran her tongue along his shaft. "And you better swallow."

She licked him, base to head, all around. With just the head in between her lips, she sucked gently. He twitched at the intensity her suction caused. She enclosed her mouth over half of his dick and slid him back and forth through her lips. Her tongue lapped at him and swirled over the tip. She pulled back for a break.

He gave her a second before he entangled his hands in her hair and forced himself into her. The cock filled her mouth and started her gag reflex. Her hands squeezed his forearms, trying to tell him to pull out. She had no choice but to relax. As soon as she did, he pulled back then jammed himself back in. Her muffled whimpering turned him on more. He pumped into her a couple more times and gave her a break.

She gasped deeply and took in as much air as she could. He slipped into her mouth and rocked his hips. His moans drowned out her small protests. He pulled out after a few thrusts. She accepted the small break, but it was her that was ready first. Her mouth was open and in position as if saying, "More please." He wasted no time in fucking her mouth again.

The warning was a strained, "I'm coming..." She told herself to swallow and keep swallowing. The glob shot and stuck to the back of her tongue. She gulped it down and relaxed. With a small, "Mmm..." she gently sucked and licked him clean. He pulled his softening dick out and released her hair. His breathing was uneven as if winded from strenuous exercise. He looked down at his kneeling girl. Her eyes were wide with fear and excitement. Her tongue swept over her lips to lick up the last bit of cum.

"Back in the corner. Memorize your rules. Don't disappoint me."

"Yes, Master," she said breathlessly. She was up with her hands planted on her head. Her eyes stayed glued to the paper. He went to his office, put his jeans back on, fell into his chair, and took his computer out of standby. He outlined and set a goal for the programming he would do that day while staring at the several hundred lines of code on his screen. Working without interruptions was rare with Lena around. Her constant neediness during his work time turned his passion for programming into stress to where he preferred working his other job at the Porsche dealership.

He went back to the bedroom with the hope there wasn't a reason to put her over his knee again for the sake of his sore hand.

"Turn around and recite the rules backward." A small, proud smile was on her face as she perfectly recited her rules. "Don't get cocky, young lady. The time it took you to memorize the rules is unimpressive. Now, it's time for you to get cleaning. Pick up everything that's out of place. Wipe down everything. Organize what needs to be organized. Clean the fridge. Take out the trash. Wash the windows. You have plenty to do for the next three hours. Take breaks, but no more than five minutes at a time. Don't interrupt me unless it's an emergency."

"But, Sir, what if I need a nap?"

"Since you got up early today, I'll let you. No more than twenty minutes. Set an alarm."

"Thank you, Sir," she said with a meek smile and lust in her eyes. He didn't know how she pulled it off, but she never looked sexier than she did at that moment. He knew that the lips of her pussy where slippery from her juices and waiting for his dick to fill her up. But he wasn't ready for another round. His girl was in heat, but she would have to wait. She whimpered quietly as he walked away and shut the office door.

She couldn't deny giving her clit a little attention. Her fingers went to her sopping cunt and stroked her bud lightly. The chores she needed to complete kept plaguing her mind, but her strong need for a release was overwhelming.

"Shit..." She took her hand away from her pussy. "Nap time...make it until nap time. Then, I'll have some fun." 

Nothing she did distracted her. Every once in a while, she took a break to rub her clit for a few seconds. Each time brought her closer to coming. She sat down often to maximize the pain of her sore ass just for a bit of pleasure.

"Keep moving," she said through gritted teeth when she found herself losing the battle. One hour later, she gave up the fight and opened the drawer to her nightstand. He wasn't ready for her, but her favorite vibrator was. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation as she lay on her back and opened her legs. No lube was needed; it slid in easily. She pumped the toy in and out, each time faster than the last. She moaned in sync with its humming. Her finger pressed firmly on the button until she was sure the entire neighborhood could hear her toy buzzing. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back. She rolled the trembling device over her bump until numb, then thrust it back into her loose slit. She pleaded in whispers, "Please, Master, let me get off!" Her arm was cramping; she sucked in her breath to ignore the pain and focused everything she had on getting off. She gasped and kept pushing it into her g spot until she was completely spent.

The toy fell from her hand to the bed. Her legs fell flat and her head sunk back to the pillows. She lay limp for a full minute with goofy smile, sighing over and over. She washed the vibrator and checked for blood. Being horny and manic was a dangerous combination that resulted in tearing and rawness. But there was no blood or pain that time.

The euphoria faded when she realized what she had done. The rules weren't set on playing with herself without permission, but she still felt guilty. Very few of her chores were completed, and she was supposed to be taking a break for a nap. But she felt that she needed a rest before continuing the cleaning. A quick nap. She burrowed under the covers and closed her eyes.

But the annoyance of her choking collar kept her awake and constantly fidgeting with it. Thoughts kept turning to sex. She banged her head on the pillow. "Think of something else. I just got off, dammit." Nothing stopped the thoughts; she was close to tears.

Her phone buzzed and made her snap back to reality. She picked it up and smiled at the picture her parents sent her of them in front of a background of palm trees and a beach. Then she noticed the time. She gasped and leaped out of bed. From the doorway of the bedroom, she peeked down the hall. His door was still closed.

"Phew...he'll never know," she whispered. But the house looked to be in the same condition it was in earlier. She powered through her chores, even though most were half assed. She pretended to scrub the stove when she heard the door open.

"Girl, in position." She carefully dropped and winced at her knees rubbing the tile floor. "Tell me what you did." With each lie and exaggeration she told him, she felt sick as she listed each thing she did, or kind of did. He made her feel worse when he told her he was proud of her.

"How does delivery sound?"

"Sounds good, Sir."

"Order what you want. I'll have the usual from wherever. I'm gonna do some more work." He came up in front of her. "Up." He caressed her face and kissed her. "Good girl."

It was her opportunity to tell him the truth, but no words came out. She didn't want to see him disappointed again. She didn't want to feel his hand reprimanding her behind again that day. But the remorse was punishing her physically with tightness in her chest. Before, a lie of that magnitude would have been forgotten, but that day she at last felt regret.

She tried to push the feeling away with hopes that it would eventually vanish. She went to her computer and placed on order at her favorite Thai restaurant. Realizing that her only attire was a piece of leather around her neck, she dashed to his office and stood in the doorway.

"Umm, Sir?"

"Yes, girl?"

"May I put on some clothes for the delivery person...Sir?"

He suppressed a chuckle at the image of his blushing, naked fiancée opening the door to the delivery guy. It was tempting humiliation, but he decided to use that punishment later. "Of course."

"And my collar?"

"Keep it on."

"But, Sir!"

"Keep it on." His eyes dared her to disobey him, but she wasn't willing to accept. She rushed to her closet to find something to cover the collar. Her knitted scarves would stand out more than the collar itself, especially when it was the middle of summer. She tried on a light jacket zipped all the way up. It hid most of her collar and covered the metal ring. She took it off, then put it back on over a simple shirt and jeans. During the half hour wait for the food to arrive, she did a little more cleaning out of guilt and brought out plates and drinks while checking each mirror she passed to be sure the collar wasn't sticking out from the jacket.

The doorbell rang. She pinched the top of her jacket a little more and opened the door. The old man didn't notice anything unusual as she paid him even though she felt that the collar was glaringly visible. With her hand still grasping her jacket, she took the bag and shut the door. She was about to yell for him but caught herself in time.

"Master, dinner is here," she said at the doorway to his office.

"I'll be there in a couple minutes." She went back to the table and split the curry and noodles to two plates. He came out, smiling, then raised his eyebrow. "Aren't you forgetting something, girl?" She gave him a blank stare back. "Your inappropriate attire?"

"Oh." She stripped in a hurry and left the clothes on the floor.

"Better." As they ate, he talked about the programming he did. She smiled at his enthusiasm and felt crappier for all the times she gave him hell while he tried to work. "Tonight we have wedding plans to work on. So, when you're done bring your laptop to the living room."

Again, she didn't want to ruin the moment to tell him the truth about earlier. She tried to forget about her guilt as they made a budget for catering at the reception. He had his arm around her, holding her close. Concentrating was difficult when the lie plagued her mind.

He took the laptop and closed it. "You did well today. I think you should be rewarded," he said softly as he ran his fingers through her hair. He kissed her cheek and trailed kisses down her neck to her shoulder. The warmth of his breath on her skin only gave her a bit of excitement. He ran his hand over her tits and pinched each one while kissing her back up to her lips. He took one arm and led her to the bedroom. She lay with legs open on her back as he shed his clothes. His eyes stayed hooked to hers while he climbed on top. His tip felt her dried up pussy and tried to push through. It didn't deter him from his mission. Slowly, he tried to work his way into her.

"Wait! I wasn't a good girl. I took too long of a break and played with myself instead of taking a nap. I'm sorry." The look on his face was more hurt than anger. "I'm really sorry, Sir."

"Then I guess we're leaving the collar on. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't want you to be mad at me." He sighed and got up from the bed. "Please don't punish me."

"I'm gonna have to, Lena. You deceived me." He started to search for what he needed. "Where is everything we bought?"

"Closet." She saw his rock hard dick go limp. She hit her forehead with a solid smack and sniffled. Another good moment, ruined.

"Get up." She did and looked down through watery eyes at her wrists being bound together. She tested the strength of the ties with a weak yank. Her arms were secured well. "Bend over the bed." Her torso fell over the top of the bed, and her arms stayed straight ahead of her. "Legs together." She felt the ties wrap around and constrict her ankles. Even with only her limbs in bondage, moving a few inches took strength and energy she did not have at the moment.

A few seconds later, she felt something lightly run over her ass. "Hopefully ten with the crop will teach you not to lie to me again."

"No..." The little tongue of leather at the end of the rod hit her in the middle of the right cheek. "Ow!" The next hit took her by surprise as it hit her in the exact spot again. Then again. She tried to lean to her right, a desperate signal to get him to strike her other side. But the crop snapped against her on the right but lower where the bottom met thigh.

"Ow..." she yelled and bawled. Each swat landed in either of the two places. "Please...stop..." But he only had one left which he sent to her left thigh. She yelped and stiffened at the unexpected blow.

She felt her ankles being released and soon after, his hands were under her hips prompting her to push her bottom up. She straightened her legs and leaned her body into the bed to lift herself a couple inches. He pressed his member against her slit. His tip felt her slipperiness and eased his way inside. An inch at a time, he pushed into her juicy cunt and moaned when he finally fit into her completely. He pumped into her slowly a couple of times, then pounded her. He dug his fingers in her hips and held on. He drowned out her cries of ecstasy with his grunting and panting, fucking her in the most primitive and masculine way.

His cock was at the perfect angle, and each thrust hit her spot causing a loud grunt to erupt through her clenched jaws. All her focus was on the buildup of her orgasm. She scrunched her face. Her muscles contracted. She nearly screamed. But the relief of the release was short lived. Another was building, and he was still going strong. His moans became whimpers. He jerked as he felt her pussy rapidly contracting around his shaft and exploded. Her legs went weak from the force of her second orgasm and from the weight of his body collapsing on top of her. He put his hands on her back for balance, but she was too shaky. She fell onto the bed; he caught himself before he landed on her.

When he caught his breath, he winced pulling out his extremely sensitive dick. Small drops of cum fell to her floor from her cunt, but she was too tired to notice or care. He stared at his bent over fiancée with a crimson, marked ass and a glob of cum dripping from her hole. He smiled and sat on the bed next to her. He untied her wrists and unbuckled her collar.

"Tomorrow, we'll continue," he said wearily. "Take your pills and join me in bed."

"Yes, Master...I mean...Keith."

When she came back to the bedroom, he was already asleep. She cuddled up next to him and noticed that her collar was placed neatly across her nightstand. She reached up and turned the light off. The annoying sexual thoughts that usually kept her awake at night were gone. For once, she found peace from her addiction.



Rehabilitating Lena Ch. 02



BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

It wouldn't stop. Each beep woke her up more.

"Keith, your alarm," she mumbled. But the obnoxious beeping kept going. She put the blanket over her ear, but it didn't block out the sound. "Keith!" She rolled over to nudge him awake, but he wasn't in bed. She peered over at his nightstand and groped for his phone, but she didn't find it. As the beeping continued and her brain started to wake up, she realized that it was coming from across the room. "Keith! Turn it off!"

"No, you turn it off." Her eyes adjusted to the dawn's light that barely lit the room and saw him leaning on the dresser, arms crossed.

"Why..."

"Your whining is really getting to me." She put her pillow over her head. "C'mon, Lena. Get out of bed, and turn it off."

She whispered, "I fucking hate you," under her pillow. Slowly, she got out of bed. The dizziness affected her balance as she stumbled to the phone on the dresser. She snatched it up, turned it off, and weakly slammed it back down. But the phone didn't suffer any damage.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

"Go to hell."

"I'll pretend to ignore that." She started to head back to bed, but he caught her arm. "Nope, get back here."

She struggled against his embrace. "Let go. I wanna go back to sleep..."

"I told you that your whining is pissing me off."

"I don't fucking care."

"You will later when your collar is on." He broke away to turn the lights on. "Get dressed. We're going for a walk."

"Fuck...really?"

He shook his head, appalled that she forgot everything about the day before. "I know what will wake you up." He grabbed her again and dragged her to the bathroom. "I've had enough of your cussing and whining." Too tired to fight, she let him haul her to the bathroom and force her to sit on the toilet. She jolted when her sore ass made contact with the hard lid. He rummaged through the cabinets under the sink and brought out a small box containing a bar of soap. Through half closed eyes, she watched him free the soap from the box and hold it in front of her face. "Open."

"You're kidding me." Her lips tightened before he had a chance to shove it into her mouth.

"Open!"

Her arms crossed. "But you didn't put the collar on me." The smirk on her face pissed him off more.

He growled. "Fine. Stay here." He let the soap fall to the counter, then returned with her collar. "In position." She groaned as she slid to the floor and looked the other way as he tightened the leather around her neck. "Sit." With another groan, she sat back on the toilet. "Open." She grimaced at the soap. Although its soapy scent smelled good, she doubted that it was going to taste pleasant. He pushed the soap to her lips. "Open your mouth right now, or you're getting a whipping too!" Her lips parted quickly at the thought of him spanking her already bruised bottom.

The soap almost fell out; she bit down harder to keep it in place. "Eweck." She scrunched her face and brought her hand up to keep it steady.

"Hands down." Her hand fell to her lap. She whined and winced and refused to look at his glaring face. She felt stupid, humiliated, and like a child with him towering over her. "You're gonna learn to stop cussing. It's sickening coming from your mouth. You're too pretty to be using that kind of language. No more. Understand, girl?"

She made a small, muffled noise in agreement and let the soap fall into his hand. She rushed to the sink and spat over and over while running her finger around her teeth to get the soap she bit in to.

"Alright, you're done," he said and started to drag her from the sink.

"No...no..." she whimpered and held onto the sides but lost the fight. "Uck," she said, still wincing.

"Get dressed. Be ready in five."

"Yes, Sir..." She groaned and gave his back a dirty look as he left the room. Five minutes later, she was still suffering from the aftertaste, but by then she was concerned more with the collar still around her neck. When she met him in the living room, she made a tugging motion on the collar in case he forgot it was still on her.

"It stays on." Instead of arguing, she zipped the light jacket all the way up to hide what she could. "I wasn't planning on collaring you until later, but your disrespect put you in this position." Stifling a whine, she followed him out the door.

The first ten minutes were torture, and all she heard was "Faster, girl." His strides were longer; he was almost at a jog. She couldn't keep up and was too out of breath to protest. Then, she put her hands to her knees and stopped in the street.

"Keith!" she called to him. 

He walked back to her. "Excuse me, but how do you address me?"

"Don't be ridiculous..." she said between breaths. "We're in public."

"No one can hear us in the middle of the street. You still have your collar on."

She shook her head. "I can't do this." "You will not stop until I say you can." She didn't say anything and stayed bent over, breathing hard. "Don't think I won't spank you in the middle of the street. Are you willing to test me?" he growled in her ear.

She didn't have to think about it. "No, Master," she weakly replied.

"You're still being punished for this. If you have such a problem with walking, you won't have to. As soon as we get home, you will lose your privilege to walk." He shook his head as he led the way. "Seriously? Not even an hour into the day, and you've already been punished twice."

For the rest of the hour, she grunted and moaned trying to keep up. He looked back at her every once in a while and thought about buying a leash to tow her along during their morning walk. "Walking my bitch," he muttered under his breath and smiled. She stumbled through the front door, panting. "On the ground, girl." She sank to the floor and caught her breath while on all fours. She cringed when she looked at the dirt on the palms of her hands.

"Guess you gotta clean the floors soon." She nodded as she tried to wipe the dirt off her hands. "I'm gonna make breakfast today. While I do that, you're gonna work on your writing. And you may sit at your computer while you do so."

"Yes, Master," she quietly said. He read her thoughts, the fears and frustrations of pursuing her passion.

"Hey." She looked up at him. "Just thirty minutes of concentration. I know you can do it. I believe in you." He gave her a small smile of encouragement.

But those thirty minutes were hell. She stared at the screen the whole time. She reread the first two scenes of a screenplay she started months ago. The excitement wasn't there anymore. A brilliant idea she had a couple years ago faded to a hundred pages of bland dialogue. She couldn't find the originality of the plot, the characters were dull and too common, and it has been done a million times before. She held her head in her hands.

"Think...what comes next?" She closed her eyes tight. "I need to start over." Before she could delete the entire project, she heard her Master call for her. She closed the document and crawled to the dining room. She hesitated next to her chair, not knowing if she was allowed to sit. He answered her question when he set the plate on the ground next to her. Although she felt like a damn dog, she was grateful that he gave her a fork.

"What did you work on?"

She played with her food, trying to think of a lie. But her depression was coming back, and she needed him to save her. "Nothing, Sir."

"Nothing?"

"I don't like my idea. I want to give up. I don't want to be wasting my time if I'm not good at this, Sir."

"Remember how you used to smile when you talked about it? How you would spend hours at the computer, late into the night, typing away?" She shrugged. "You'll get back into it. You just gotta try every day." She sniffled as she nodded and tried to keep the tears away. "Finish eating. You have chores to do...which you will do this time...while I get some work done. Then, we'll work on your training. But first, what's rule number ten?"

She stared at her plate. "Umm..."

"Remove your clothes, please." Her mind was desperately searching for the answer as she shed her clothes. "Face away from me and put your forehead to the floor. I want to see how much that bruised ass can take today." She squinted in concentration. He ran his fingers over her bruises.

As he moved his hand away, she nearly screamed, "Work on my screenplays every day!" He took his hands off of his belt that he planned to use on her behind.

"Huh, really does work," he said, sounding more impressed with himself. "Should have spanked you a long time ago..." he mumbled and sipped his coffee. "You may finish eating now."

"Thank you," she whispered to whatever divine entity that intercepted and sat back down.

"I think that maybe you should be rewarded. That impressed me. And you actually sat in front of your computer for thirty minutes and tried." He said nothing as he finished eating; she nervously picked at her food hoping that the reward was being able to walk again. "Do the dishes, but stand as little as possible. Then, come to my office with that remote vibrator." She smiled and did what she was told.

Washing the dishes was difficult with the constant standing and crawling to avoid taking any steps. Her knees hurt from the hard tile, and her back ached and cracked. But she ignored the pain and crawled to the bedroom closet. Passing his closed office door, he could hear him laughing and talking to someone on the phone. She loved hearing his sweet voice and missed it already. The rough growl he used was a turn on, but it didn't suit him as well.

She went to the closet and grabbed the parts and batteries of the toy and put them in the pouch that came with it. With her teeth, she carried it to his office. She rapped on the door.

"I gotta go, later." The laughter in his voice faded with a stern, "Come in." She pushed the door open and crawled to his chair. He smirked as he admired his naked fiancée on all fours. "Thank you," he said as he took the bag from her mouth. He fixed the batteries in place and tested the remote. The bullet shook violently in his hand. "I hope you're wet enough."

"Uhh..." She could tell she wasn't wet enough to get the bullet inside.

"Then maybe you should get some lube." It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order. She grimaced as she made another trip to the bedroom. Using her teeth again, she carried the corner of the tube and dropped it into his waiting hand. "On your back."

She rolled onto her back and gave her Master a display of her near-perfect pussy minus the stubble from the poor shaving job of the day before. She watched him as he dropped a dollop of lube at the bullet's tip; his finger swirled around it, coating it to its base. He kneeled in between her legs and ran his fingers over her cunt. The bullet touched her clit. The cold lube made her writhe and try to escape. "No..." he warned her. She stayed still, bit her lip, and closed her eyes as the tip started to enter her. Very slowly, he worked it in and out. The more he teased her pussy, the more she eagerly accepted the rock hard bullet. With one last easy thrust, he pushed it all the way in. She inhaled sharply and felt immediate comfort. He tugged the string. The small vibration made her smile.

"Get to work," he said with a wink and turned away. She frowned, hoping to try her new toy, but he was already busy at his computer. Just as she crossed the threshold, a massive quake erupted from her abdomen. She gasped and collided with the doorframe. It lasted a short few seconds, then ended with him convulsing with laughter. As she crawled out she swore to be on the lookout for him sneaking up on her. 

Ten minutes later, the buzzing caught her by surprise. She hung on to the coffee table she was cleaning, gasping and weak from the ferocious rumble. "Ohhh..." Then, it stopped. She peered back at Keith with a big smile on his face and remote in hand.

"Just checking on my girl." He pointed the remote at her like a gun, ready to shoot her at any second. He pressed down on the button and held it. The vibration built up; she gripped at the carpet, feeling dizzy and a little more aroused. "Have you come yet?"

The tremors died slowly. "I don't think I can with this thing, Master. Too strong but too weak at the same time. But it kinda feels good..."

"I want you to practice composure when I push this button unexpectedly. I don't need you causing a scene when we're in public." She grimly nodded although the thought turned her on. He looked around, amazed about what she accomplished already for being on her knees. "Keep it up."

Every half hour was met with a rumble in her cunt. It gradually became easier for her to contain herself. By the early afternoon, she was becoming a pro.

He stopped in front of her in the hallway as she was crawling to the bedroom. She looked up in surprise. He was close to laughing. She carefully carried a bottle of cleaning spray in her mouth with rags and towels draped over her back. "Time for lunch. You're making it. But take the vibrator out and leave it on your nightstand."

"Yeash, hahter," she said and continued down the hall. She put the supplies away and lay next to the bed. She tugged, then tugged harder. It finally came out with a pop that took the breath out of her. She rinsed the lube and cum mixture off the bullet, dried it, and crawled to the kitchen.

He was at the dining table, absorbed in his laptop. "You may stand to make lunch," he said still studying the screen. With a small groan and cracking bones, she stood and rummaged through the cabinets. There wasn't much food on the shelves. By luck she found two cans of the same condensed soup. Silently, she heated it over the stove and listened to him typing away. She brought the bowls to the table and set one down. She lowered herself to the floor and ate her meal. He automatically ate without complaint and pushed the bowl to the side when he finished. "In an hour, I'm going to finish working. I want you in position at the end of the bed, waiting for me."

"Yes, Master."

He smiled down at her. "God, you're gorgeous. But I need you to look your best. One hour."

She hid her smile and rushed to wash the dishes. From there, she crawled to the shower. She only stood once to gather her soaps and grab the handheld showerhead to let it hang to the floor, all without taking a step. On her knees, she washed herself while eying the forceful stream of water coming from the showerhead. It was tempting, and the urge was getting stronger. She felt the control slipping away. All morning, the obsessive sexual thoughts were in hibernation. But now, her pussy throbbed and her need had to be met right away.

"No! I can't. I won't." She turned off the faucet. "Fucking addiction," she muttered and focused on preparing herself.

Still on the floor, she blow dried her hair and did her makeup. She waited patiently on her knees in her submissive pose.

"Ready for your training, girl?" He smiled as he stretched and cracked his knuckles as if preparing for a grueling physical task.

"Yes, Sir," she said with a cute smile.

"So far, you're doing well. You've been listening to me. That makes me happy." Her smile widened at the praise. "So, when was the last time you came?"

"Last night, Sir."

"When will you come next?"

"Whenever you give me permission to, Master."

"Good answer." At that moment, it was hard to see him as her Master as he smiled warmly at her. He was the kind of man that wouldn't hurt anyone unless he had too. Even killing innocent spiders was difficult for him. She couldn't see him as an authority figure, but his face hardened and his hazel eyes pierced through hers. He straightened his spine and put his hands on his hips. "We're going to work on your obedience, delaying your orgasm, and..." He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it up a little. "Your pain tolerance." He let go. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do you remember the safe word?"

She nodded. He went to the closet and carried a load in his arms. He let the items fall onto the bed. The blindfold was the first object he grabbed. He knelt in front of her. The last thing she saw was his smirk. The soft fabric covered her eyes and the silky ties wrapped around her head. He made a small adjustment to the front. "Tell the truth, can you see anything?"

"No, Sir."

"I want you to focus all of your energy on not coming." He took her hand and helped her up; his other hand caressed her breasts and stroked her abs. "On your back, on the bed." He positioned her on the edge. Her legs bent and opened wide. He kissed her then whispered in her ear, "Don't come yet."

He leaned onto the bed next to her and trailed a finger from her lips, down her abs, very lightly over her cunt, then down to her clit, which he stroked with barely any pressure. She shivered in response. He teased her by tracing her lips, never entering her. She silently begged with thrusts of her hips and moaned when he finally penetrated her using two fingers while his thumb pressed her clit. He played with her slowly, building to a faster rhythm. He studied the quivering in her body and the ecstasy on her face. She was getting close. When her breathing got heavy, he withdrew in time.

She pouted and hit the bed with her fist out of frustration. The training was already miserable.

"From now on, you will not orgasm until I say you can. You will no longer get to play with yourself without my permission, even if that means I lock up your toys."

She shook her head; she was speechless for a moment. "Wh...wait! Time out!"

"Time out?"

"I mean..." The safe word was on her lips, but she didn't want to disappoint him. Instead, tears came. "I can't Keith, I can't..." she whispered.

"Lena..." His voice was soft; her tears were working on him. "I won't let you succumb to your addiction. You will no longer watch porn or read those stories without me or my permission. You will not play with yourself unless I let you. Those are the rules now."

She felt the world turn to chaos as she realized she wasn't in control anymore. "I can't do this! I don't want to!"

He caught her hand as she tried to take the blindfold off. "You consented, and you are continuously breaking rules!" he yelled. She winced and recoiled. "You will not give up! I won't let you!"

She heard his jagged breathing and could feel the heat of his rage as he sat rigid next to her. "Can we start over?" she asked in a small, innocent voice.

"NO!" Her tears flooded her blindfold, and she started shaking. "I have to go..." he muttered. She felt him move away from the bed then heard his office door shut. She ripped the blindfold off and curled up, crying. The overwhelming guilt made her nauseated, then angry. She was angry at herself and at him.

"I won't let him give up either," she said through gritted teeth with a new determination to finally set things right.

She got down on hands and knees with the blindfold in her teeth. She stopped at the doorway and turned back to the closet to bring him one of his belts. She wrapped the blindfold around the leather, so she wouldn't damage it with her teeth. Awkwardly, she carried both in her mouth to the office door.

"What?" he said, annoyed and miserable when she knocked on the door. With the load in her mouth, she couldn't answer. She reached up and turned the knob. Her eyes stayed on the floor as she moved toward his desk. She spat out the items in front of his chair.

"You won't let me give up, Master, and I won't let you give up on me. I love you, Sir, and I'm sorry. I'm scared about confronting my addiction, and I know now that I need your help. Please, don't let me get away with this, Sir. Please punish me for trying to give up." Her head remained bowed, but she spoke with an assertiveness she never knew she had.




Rehabilitating Lena Ch. 02



He sighed deeply. "Lena...I mean, girl. Your Master is sorry that he abandoned you and didn't deal with you like he promised. I'm sorry, girl." Right then, he wanted her on his lap, holding her tight, whispering apologies and promises in her ear. He resisted that urge. He had to get angry. But when she crawled into his office with a belt in her mouth asking for punishment and forgiveness, he felt that she had redeemed herself.

He lowered himself and picked up the belt and blindfold. He set the belt on the desk and placed the blindfold over her eyes. She hung her head in deep remorse; she was ready to take the punishment.

"Over my desk." He helped her up and guided her to the edge. He swept off enough gadgets and papers to clear a space for her to rest her upper body but kept the lube that was still on his desk within reach. His hand pressed on her back. She didn't resist bending over. He folded the worn belt and stood behind her. He aimed, swung his arm back, and stalled.

In his mind, he yelled at himself to follow through. She needed it. But the leather slapped her ass weakly. Her head turned, lips slightly apart, about to question him. He couldn't find the will to punish her correctly. The next slap landed a bit harder, but she didn't jolt or cry out. She tried to think of an appropriate way to critique her Master's spanking technique. The next one had a bit of a sting.

"Oh!" she quietly cried, not in pain, but in surprise that her pussy had just moistened.

That cry got him hard. He struck her again. She moaned and raised her hips for more. He spanked her again, and again. He could her breathing speed up. He could tell she was holding back from screaming at him to fuck her. He hit her bright, pink ass five more times until he was moaning. He threw the belt aside and stripped. She stayed still, her ass on display.

His cock pressed against her as he debated which hole he was going to deposit into. She inched her bottom toward him, signaling her readiness.

"Remember that you're not allowed to come without my permission."

"Yes, Master," she said in a strained voice.

"Good. Keep that in mind," he said and opened the cap to the lube. To be cautious, he coated his dick with the lubricant thickly. He used his fingers to spread the cold lube around her hole.

"Umm..." she started to protest. She was unsure about anal; he never expressed an interest, and they never talked about it. But in secret, she was a little experienced with anal masturbation.

"Shh...just take it, girl." His willingness drowned the insecurities. She got extremely wet waiting for the feeling of him filling her ass up. He reached around her hips and played with her wetness. "Ready, girl?" he asked in a deep voice that turned her on more.

"Yes, Master."

He pushed away his negative feelings toward anal, about how unnatural and messy it was. He felt that he needed to prove that he would do anything for her, especially when he was soon to become her husband.

He started easing into his trembling fiancée. Back and forth, he pushed in a little more each time. His tip felt the tightness and the warmth.

But his cock wasn't getting in far, and soon her face contorted from pain more than pleasure.

He sighed. "I should have got you ready. I'm sorry."

"It's ok, Sir," she said with obvious disappointment.

"Get your plug." She smiled and dropped to the floor. She was still blind with a mess of lube sticking to her hole, but she didn't care and didn't ask for her sight back. She felt her way around, searching with her hands to find her way out. "Never mind, you're taking too long. Back over the desk." She obeyed as he retrieved the plug and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink. He searched the dresser drawers for her tightest panties and returned to the office. "Relax."

Her legs opened more as he smeared the lube on the plug. Carefully, he pushed the tip inside. With a little force, he got the widest point through. The rest slipped in easily.

"Oooo..." she moaned. The fit was perfect, and the sensation felt amazing. With a finger, he tapped the base. She reacted with a small cry.

"Put these on." He placed the silk panties, two sizes too small, on top of her hand. "Wear this for the next fifteen minutes. Do more chores. You may walk. And do not touch yourself." He removed the blindfold from her flushed face. "Go now."

"Yes, Sir," she said weakly and struggled to get the panties on without dislodging the plug. She almost waddled out the door, keeping a hand behind her in case it started to fall out. Trying not to walk funny or touch herself, she scrubbed the kitchen sink. All she could think about was her throbbing and aching pussy. She wanted him to do whatever it took to get her off. She would take it up the ass or in her pussy, or with his tongue lapping at her clit, or being fingered while being spanked hard into submission. She wanted it all. The cleaning barely distracted her. Every once in a while, she had to push the plug back into place. Every time felt good, but she whimpered as she had to hold back from stroking her clit.

She broke out in run when she heard, "Get in here, girl!" He pointed to the desk. She had time to briefly admire his naked body with a stiff cock waiting to jam itself into her. As she bent over, he slid the plug out. She heard the cap pop off the lube again, and soon felt his cock replace the plug that filled and stretched her. He settled inside her and gripped her sides, hands shaking as he held onto her. The urge to fuck her as hard as he could was strong, but he resisted and built a rhythm slowly. She breathed hard as each thrust sent her closer to orgasm. 

"Play with yourself, now!" he snapped. Her hand went to her sopping cunt.

"Please, Sir..."

"Please what?"

"Please can I come, Sir?" she begged, almost whining.

He waited for a few very long seconds. "You may," he said through gritted teeth. An animal-like cry erupted from her as she released. It brought him closer, and he focused on his own ending. At the moment, he felt dirtier than ever and decided to end his missionary-position vanilla like ways. He pulled out in time and shot his seed all over her lower back. She jumped dramatically when she felt the wetness hit her.

"Go clean up, girl," he said with a laugh.

She winced as she fought to find a way to stop the cum from dripping onto the carpet. She put her hands behind her to catch it from falling. Realizing that he wasn't very clean either, he walked up behind her and scooped her up in his arms. She panicked and grabbed his neck; cum smeared all over him. He winced but continued to carry her to the bathroom. He started the water for the shower and kissed her. "Good girl." He rinsed his hands under the water, then took her collar off. "We'll continue your training later." Taking her hand, he led her into the warm spray of the shower.



Rehabilitating Lena Ch. 03



Keith hoped and wished and tried hard. But he couldn't control her addiction. A month earlier, he discovered the growing porn collection and her lies. He wanted to punish her. Instead, he sunk to the floor, crying and feeling like a failure. He didn't know what to do except give her an ultimatum. Therapy or no more sex. She quickly chose therapy for two reasons. One, she couldn't live without the sex. Two, she couldn't live without Keith. She wanted the wedding more than ever. She wanted to prove to him and to everyone else how much she loved him. She wanted to be his wife, his submissive, his girl, his slut.

She was starting to like her therapist. Where her fiancé couldn't help her, her therapist did. Although Lena received the treatment she needed for so long, it didn't stop Keith from playing Master.

She drove away from the therapist's office, remembering to breathe deeply. She forced her focus on the road as her thoughts speeded through her mind. The stress was becoming burdensome. With the wedding a month away and the meeting the next day, she was on edge. She feared a manic episode.

Even with the distractions, she made it home safely. "Keith, I'm home!" she said as she tossed her purse and keys on a stand in the entryway. He was already heading toward her. Without a word and only a small smile, he held her arms and kissed her. He petted her hair, stroked her face, and with the other hand, slipped the collar from his pocket. She felt the leather slide around the back of her neck and protested with an exaggerated groan.

"Don't give me that. You were a bad girl yesterday." She scowled and didn't resist as he buckled it. "Promise that you're not going to panic again?"

"Promise, Master."

"Good girl." He kissed her forehead and tugged at her clothes. "I want these off." She took one step back and with one hand, released her long, blonde hair from its messy bun. She bent over and flung her hair back. Slowly, she pulled her arms through the holes of her conservative, gray sweater, then whipped it off revealing a purple cheetah demi underneath. She turned her back to him and pulled down her tight jeans a few inches at a time. She bent over to give him a view of the matching thong as she slid the jeans down. She kicked off her sandals and jeans and looked over her shoulder at him. Her hands went to her back to release the clasps of her bra. She flung it across the room. As she did with her jeans, she took her time sliding the thong down her thighs and let the skimpy panties fall to the floor. She stepped out of them, making sure her pussy was in plain view, then tossed them aside. She straightened and turned toward him.

He savored her near perfect body. The exercising he made her do had paid off. He would never forget the day she presented her size four figure in a bikini. He took her right there at the beach.

"What do you want your girl to do, Master?"

"Relax. If you freak out again, you'll be in trouble."

"But it doesn't feel like I'm ready though."

He sighed and raised an eyebrow. "You're asking for it."

She shifted her eyes down. "Sorry, Master."

"I don't want to hear another negative word. If you want to talk about it, I want to hear how excited you are and how well you're going to do."

"Then, what should I do today?" He crossed his arms. "I meant Sir. What should I do today, Sir?"

"You've have wedding details to figure out."

"Why is it always the female's job to do all the planning? All the man has to do is get fitted for a tux and show up on his wedding day."

"Because I don't care if your bouquet matches the tablecloths at the reception." She rolled her eyes. "And for speaking to me like that..." He twirled her around and slapped her ass, hard.

"Ow!"

"There will be more if you don't stop it."

She sniffled. "Yes, Sir." He couldn't keep his cock under control with her cute, childish pouting. He pressed himself to the back of her.

"Feel that?" His rod poked into her lower back. She nodded. "That's how much I love you." Her hand slipped behind her and gripped his dick. She fondled it through his jeans, squeezing it, stroking it. He forgot about his anger; she knew how to manipulate him. "You want it?"She nodded again. "Then get on the bed, my little whore."

She speeded ahead of him and flung herself onto the bed. She lay on her back, legs spread, arms above her head. But first, he entered the closet to bring out the bondage rope. She frowned and was about to ask why.

"Just your arms. You clawed me well last night." It was the best orgasm of her life, and she dug her fingernails into his arms as she rode it out. She apologized over and over when she saw the crescent dents she created.

He left some slack around her wrists to prevent marks as he secured them together and to the headboard. She tugged at the rope to check its tightness. But she was losing interest as the thoughts of the next day plagued her mind. He knew he was losing her; her eyes stared off into the distance, and she didn't play along, pouted, or begged to be let go. He wanted to use his girl but didn't want to see the dull look on her face. He shook his head and fetched the blindfold and gag. Her lips pouted more; she wasn't in the mood to lose her freedoms. Without caring how she felt about it, he forced the gag through her lips while looking at her straight into her eyes. He covered them with the blindfold, still glaring at her.

The quietness and loss of senses was unnerving but nothing new. She learned not to panic and trust him completely. He kept the silence as he forced his dick in her and moaned as her pussy tightened around him. Two more pumps later, he threw her ankles over his shoulders and clamped his hands over them. He didn't waste any more time and pounded her as fast as he could.

"You like being used, my little slut?" He heard a muffled moan. "You're not getting off, no matter how bad you need it." She whined at his cruelty. "You've been very naughty. I didn't get my blowjob yesterday. You've been thinking of other things instead of servicing me. You've been panicking and forgetting your place. I think it's fair to punish you, don't you agree?" The cries got louder. She struggled against the rope to get his attention. "Nope, you're gonna have to wait. If you're good, your pussy will get some attention. If not, you'll have to wait longer."

He ignored her protests and focused, not worrying if his girl was going to obey him. After three months of training, she knew better than to release at the risk of being punished. He gripped her ankles tightly and thrust into her hard, expelling his seed deep inside of her.

"I want you to think about your behavior. No more freaking out. Understood?"

She nodded and kept quiet the rest of the day. She didn't want to risk missing out on an orgasm and was glad she held out when he cleaned her pussy out with his tongue later that night.

~

The outfit she picked out the night before wasn't good enough. She was too nauseated to eat breakfast. Although she had plenty of time, she ran through the house trying to get ready. Keith stayed on the couch and watched TV, ignoring her. But every few seconds, she had another question or nag.

It was usually, "Where's my...?" and "What time is it?" In between were carefully whispered curses so he wouldn't hear.

He answered each question calmly and pointed out that they still had an hour before they needed to leave. He didn't understand what still needed to be done as she looked dressed and presentable. Her erratic behavior was annoying, and he knew if he didn't step in to stop her, she would be a mess later. He shut off the TV and stretched. He strolled into the bedroom. She stood in front of the vanity, frantically trying to get a necklace off to switch it with another one. "Can you get this?" she whined.

"Can you get this off, please."

"Whatever! Just help me!" He shook his head and opened the clasp.

"If you don't stop, you'll be wearing your collar instead."

"Funny." She grabbed the necklace and threw it on the dresser. She picked up the other one and held it around her neck, waiting to him to secure it. "Ahem..."

"What?"

She glared at him through the mirror. "Seriously, Keith, don't do this."

"I want you to be polite and ask me what you want me to do."

She threw the necklace down. "Forget it."

He quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to the bed. She struggled; she knew what was coming. And she knew she needed it. But she didn't want to give in without a fight. With her tight skirt and heels she was just learning to walk in, he had the advantage. It made it too easy for him to place her over his lap. Once her face was inches from the floor, she stopped fighting and held herself up with her arms. He used two hands to pull the skirt up and her panties down.

"Noooo..." she whined and winced as the first slap hit her hard. She wanted to be able to sit that day; she didn't want any evidence of her crying. He spanked the other side just as hard. She fought instinct to run and weakly squirmed. But she knew better. Fifteen minutes with the brush taught her never to run away again. She wanted to block the blows but promised herself to break that habit. Some of the learning came from her hands being struck with objects unintentionally, which only pissed him off more. He started tying her wrists together. More recently, if she dared to do it again, he would strap her thighs after her spankings.

She clasped her hands together in front of her to avoid the temptation. His hand struck her repeatedly, firmly, and fast. She was grateful that he was only using his hand, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

She dared to only move a little. He stayed silent and focused on her red bottom. She didn't cry; she wasn't close yet. For a couple minutes of only the sound of smack, smack, smack, he stopped. The prickly heat radiated from her ass.

"Up."

She groaned standing. With her skirt bunched up and her panties around her ankles, she waited for him to hold her. "Sorry, Sir," she mumbled into his chest.

"It's ok, girl. I knew you needed that." She nodded and took deep breaths, relaxing in his arms. "We have about fifty minutes. What needs to get done?"

"I need a necklace."

"What's wrong with the one you were wearing?"

"I don't think a gold locket seems professional. I just wanted to try the pearls...to see if they will work." He went to the dresser while she fixed her skirt. He rummaged through her jewelry box. Though he believed any of them would do, he understood that she wore each 'a million times.'

"Close your eyes. Whatever one I put on you is what you're wearing." She frowned, annoyed that she had to trust him with a fashion problem. But she closed her eyes.

The velvet, jewelry box was under his nightstand. He reached under and grabbed it. She recoiled a bit as the cold metal made contact with her skin. "You may open them." 

She looked down and held the pendant in her hand, but the chain was too short. She turned to the mirror. On a thick, gold chain hung a decorative gold lock, studded with diamonds. The inch and a half tall lock felt heavy against her chest bone. It was the first noticeable thing about her. She gasped and twirled around.

"I love it! Thank you, Sir!" She kissed him, arms tightly around his neck, smiling and giggling, truly grateful. He waited, but she didn't ask where he got the money from. She didn't know how well he was doing selling cars and didn't bother to ask. He was appreciative that she trusted him completely.

"I was going to give it to you tonight, but you're right. You needed a better necklace. She studied it in her reflection, adjusting it, running her fingers over it. "That will be your collar in public." He held her arms in a loose embrace, kissed the back of her head, gave her a swat to her ass, and winked at her as he left her to finish getting ready.

The anxiety surfaced again during the drive. She fidgeted in her seat. She turned the air conditioning on and off, played with the radio, and kept looking through the folder on her lap.

"Lena...breathe." She exhaled and stared out the window at the other cars on the freeway. Every once in a while, they would hit heavy traffic. They left an hour earlier on purpose. Anything less than a two and a half hour drive from San Diego to Los Angeles was a joke. She made it a game searching for brake lights. Each time the red lights lit up, she would groan and complain that she couldn't sit through another episode of bumper to bumper.

They made it to LA and found the office without getting lost. They entered the door to a small room with an attractive receptionist behind a desk.

"Hi, y'all here to see Mr. Jones?"

"Yes, we have an appointment," Lena said.

"K, have a seat. I'll let him know." She smiled sweetly and started typing on the computer in front of her. They sat in the cramped space with its bare walls, a single door, and very little decoration. It didn't look like the lobby of a porn director's office. Lena constantly wiped her palms on her skirt until Keith took her hand and held it tight.

Five minutes later, the receptionist got up from her seat. "He's ready to see ya now." She held the door open and pointed to an open door down the hall. Inside the large office was a cheap couch, a desk, and a few chairs. The walls were crammed with movie posters and pictures with autographs of nude women. A well-dressed man with graying hair stood from the desk and offered hi s hand.

"Lena?"

"Yes." She extended her hand.

"I'm Dale."

"And this is my fiancé, Keith."

They shook hands and engaged in small talk.

"Dev will be here soon." He craned his neck through the door, looking down the hall. "He's on the phone...ah, he's here." They introduced themselves with the shorter man in a baseball cap. Keith watched his nervous girl and gave her an encouraging smile as they sat. There was more chitchat and some traffic jokes. She tried her best to feel at ease.

"So, I read your work," Dale said as his eyes stared straight into hers. "And I think that's what we need." She broke out in a smile. "We need to break away from amateur housewives and barely legal sluts on webcams. And we need more kink. That's why we need you on board. A weekly show will fit perfectly."

"And I like the bit of comedy," Dev said. She nodded while blushing. "We'll make it look professional, and I think we have a girl in mind." Dev looked at Dale. "Shawna, right?"

"She's perfect, and she's willing to do whatever. She's got this sexy and subtle accent."

"But the guy, we're still working on."

"We don't have any with real acting experience. Just well-hung and brainless. We need someone that can actually remember lines and has charisma, I guess." Dale looked her up and down. "You know, we could use a few more beauties around here. Have you ever considered?"

Lena crossed her arms and sunk back into her seat.

"No, she hasn't," Keith said as he glared the men down.

"I'm just sayin'. She's gorgeous. We could definitely use her - -"

"Don't even think about it." He stood and gripped his girl's arm. "We're going." She got up to follow.

"Wait! I'm sorry, I won't bring it up again, I promise." Lena looked to her fiancé. He nodded and they both sat. "Again, sorry. So, you know we're new on the net, so money is not a possibility yet. But with your screenplays, we can get to that level of being able to pay everyone properly. We can do a pilot and see how it goes."

"That would be wonderful," she said.

"Do you have the changes?" She handed him the folder with the script of the first episode. They looked it over and discussed it. The more they talked freely about the vulgarity, the more she felt at ease. Two hours later, they said their goodbyes and left.

A wide and relieved smile was on her face as she stepped into the car. He turned her head with his hand and kissed her. "Proud of you."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Let's get some dinner." He started the car, opened the middle compartment, and tossed a bag onto her lap. As he drove away from the parking lot, she placed the bag aside and pulled down her panties. She smeared the lube over the remote vibrator and carefully placed it inside her while checking outside for any passing cars.

"It's in, Master." She placed the remote on his lap. Silently, he drove to the restaurant he made reservations for, ignoring the remote. He parked and shut the engine off.

"We're early."

"Oh." She waited expectedly for the buzzing.

"Maybe you can suck me off while we wait." She smiled and unbuckled her seatbelt. She twisted her body and lowered her head to his crotch. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. His cock was hard and ready for her. She greeted her friend with a kiss to his tip, a ritual she did to show her respect. She teased her Master by rubbing her face around the smooth head. Her tongue ran across the shaft base to tip. She covered the shaft with her lips for a few seconds, then released him.

"Will that do, Master?"

He tried to look as stern as possible. "Get back to work, or I will take you outside, bend you over the car, and strap you in front of everyone." Although the threat was real, she smiled and slowly moved her lips down his rod and back up. She teased him, slowly pumping him. He grabbed a fistful of hair and forced her down.

She relaxed her throat as his enlarged dick filled her throat. The was no use fighting; he was going to use her mouth whether she wanted it or not. She licked around the shaft as it stayed lodged in between her jaws. He yanked her head up. Using her hair, he tugged it to guide her up and down. He forced her to look at him.

"Don't ever tease me like that. I don't want to have to punish you for something as stupid as you not giving me a proper blowjob."

"Yes, Master." She sulked at being lectured.

"I'm not gonna cum, now. I don't want a mess." But she wanted to make up for her behavior that morning and pouted. The buzzing in her pussy caught her by surprise, but she stayed composed. He fixed his pants and slipped the remote in his pocket. 

Dinner out always meant a toy was in one of her holes or a vibrator at her clit. In between sips of wine and bites of squash ravioli, he pushed the button. She would smile and control her breathing. The only sign she gave that a vibrator rumbled inside of her was her slightly flushed face. They acted normal, talking about her new job and the upcoming wedding. But as they shared dessert, he whispered what he planned to do to her when they got home.

She whispered back, "Do we really have to wait?"

He smirked and paid for the dinner, held the chair out for her, and led her to the parking lot. As soon as they started driving, his chivalrous attitude changed. He became the rough, wild master who wasn't afraid to ravage her body.

"Take that thing out, now."

She spread her legs and tugged, using tissues in the glove compartment to wipe it clean. She tucked her toy back in its bag.

He searched the road, looking for desolate alleyways and parking lots. He parked behind a closed and boarded up store. "Get out."

She slid out of the car and met him by the trunk. He pinned her hands to the cold metal and positioned her bent over body over the car. He roughly bunched her skirt up to her waist. She dared not move or talk, but she looked all around her for anyone that could see them and hoping that person wouldn't be a cop.

"I don't care if anyone is watching. I need to fuck my little slut." She nodded nervously as he started to shove his dick inside. The thought that someone could be watching didn't make her feel wild and dangerous as she imagined before. All she felt was paranoia.

With his pants around his ankles, Keith didn't mind humping his slut in the cold, dark night. Lena rested her chin on her hands while her pussy was brutalized from behind. Her eyes shut tight; she tried to concentrate on the friction of the thrusts, the cold metal that bit through her thin skirt and lacy bra, the air on her bare legs, and the warmth of her Master's abdomen slapping against her. She heard the slapping, his rigid breathing, and the distant sound of cars. Her lips tightened to contain any sound; she wanted to stay as quiet as possible.




Rehabilitating Lena Ch. 03



His hand trialed up her back and grabbed the end of her hair. He wrapped it around his fingers and pulled her head back. "Do you like this, girl?" It was a somewhat noiseless night, she felt as if he shouted.

"Yeah..." she said quietly.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes," she said a bit louder.

"What's wrong?" he almost yelled. He could feel her sink closer to the car. "Am I being too loud?" She didn't want to answer him honestly and gave no answer at all. The cold intensified the sting as he slapped her ass. "Am I being too loud?" he roared.

"YES!" she screamed back which earned her another slap.

"I don't care. Just take it." He thrust himself into her faster, groaning and grunting loudly which he rarely did. She cringed at him making a scene and tried to tell herself to give up the fear. The sharp, smacks to her ass echoed throughout the alley. He wasn't going to stop until she had completely submitted. The chill made the spanking worse; she wanted it to stop.

She made it stop. "Fuck, me Master, please!" she screamed.

"You wanna cum? Beg for it!"

She screamed and grunted, yelling, "Please, Master!" over and over until her legs shook and gave out underneath her. She fell to the car as all of her energy zapped out of her from one long orgasm. He collapsed on top of her, giving her a few, final thrusts, filling her up.

She peeled herself off of the car and straightened her clothes. There was no audience gathered to watch as she feared. Only him and her, both half naked and dripping cum.

"Clean me off," was his last request. She fell to her knees and took him in her mouth. She sucked and licked his sensitive member. "Good girl." She smiled wearily; the fucking took everything out of her. He helped her up and got her into the car. Her head fell against the door, and she stayed half awake, sometimes sleeping for a few minutes at a time.

Every once in a while, she heard him talking to her. She only heard a couple of sentences clearly.

"I love you, girl. Just one more month, and you're mine forever."