what happened after my Sunday drive to Sir.
“Kneel.”, He ordered while we were laying together in bed, fully dressed. I quickly go into kneeling position on the bed on wobbly knees. His thick, expensive, dense mattress is where we do almost all of our play.
I kneel, and He comes behind me, grabbing at me. Asking me why I have been disobeying my contract rules and not doing my allotted slave tasks.
“I don’t feel as submissive when I’m home in my parent’s house, Sir.” I say meekly. He moves in front of me, whips my clothes off and pushes me down onto my back.
He keeps asking me more questions, and punctuates His answers with sharp, stinging slaps on the inside of my thighs. I groan and squeak and struggle, and He easily pushes my legs open with His knee and slaps me on the thigh again.
Earlier in the week, after I made my post about my orgasm troubles, He had talked things out with me and made sure I was feeling okay. Last night, however, was punishment night.
“Hands, knees.” He says as He gets up to retrieve the toy bag He hides in the closet when His kids are staying at the apartment. He plops it on the bed. He retrieves His newest toy, the single tail bull whip. He plays with it a bit and even cracks it once in the air. I panic.
He brushes it against me and taps my ass and back with it. Deep down I know He wouldn’t strike me with it, because He’s barely practiced, but it still mindfucks me all the same.
He snaps open His laptop and goes into His personal gmail account. He blindfolds me.
You see, every day, I have to send Him three types of emails from my Blackberry.
- A daily tasklist of things to do, and a slave task. Slave tasks can be blogging here, sending Him a sex fantasy, or (when I have the time to arrive at His apartment early) cleaning and doing domestic tasks. When I return to school, my slave task can also be exercising.
- A daily picture of myself or something I’m doing. They can be naked, or normal or even funny. Whatever. (I love this task, btw. ♥)
- Everything I eat has to be detailed, even when I disobey and eat things that are bad for me. I can ask permission to eat fattening things. On the whole, I’m supposed to abstain.
Sir loves me the way I am. He gives me these restrictions to make myself feel better and to love myself. Eating better is loving myself. Blogging about all these experiences is loving myself. When I eat shitty food, it’s not loving myself.
And I’m not allowed to hate myself.
I groan inwardly as Sir clicks through His email. I know I’ve been slacking off, way more than when I was in the summer ECU dorms.
He stuffs a gag into my mouth, the foam one, that He bought at TESfest. The foam one muffles me and it is much more comfortable, though it makes me drool. He tucks a safesignal into my hand.
He warms my ass up.
Then He clicks through His email, talking about my various misdemeanors. I try to talk through the gag.
“Did I ask you something?” He says sharply. “Because I don’t think anything you have to say right now is terribly important.”
I quiet.
He goes down the list and says out loud all my missteps during the week.
Ice cream here. Cake here. A few missed slave tasks.
He absolutely pummels my ass. Punishment isn’t supposed to feel good. It feels like He’s PUNCHING my poor pet butt.
“I obviously need to remind you who owns you.” He swishes the cane in the air.
He starts to cane me, repeated swats. My arms go rigid straight, I’m completely rigid and prone and I sit up from hands, knees position. My back is straight. My way of dealing with the repeated pain. It hurts and hurts and hurts. I scream into the foam gag. I can feel the cane cutting into me. My ass is hot and aching.
He stops and walks away.
I lay there sniffling, sniveling. Still blind and gagged.
I feel the bed move, Him behind me. He grabs me and pulls me towards Him. Pushing me down so my ass is in the air. Grabbing His cock and shoving in.
I shriek into the gag the first time His naked hips hit my sore ass.
“Aw, it hurts?” His hand pats my hand clutching the safesignal.
“Mmmmngh,” I say into the gag, meaning yes.
“Too bad.” He fucks me harder. “I’m glad it hurts.”
Soon, I can feel that tingling start. I grunt into the gag, panting almost.
“I better hear you come!” He’s fucking me harder now. Pain shooting up from when His hips crash into my sore ass.
I come, nonetheless. Hard.
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I have black and blue blotches all over one ass cheek.
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P.S: I’ve decided to do HNT. Rock.
August 19th, 2008 at 9:07 pm
Oh, dear. You poor, poor, defenseless thing, you. My my.