A Slave Obeys

It makes me nervous, feeling like I've been left here alone. Is this my punishment? I was expecting something rougher, he seemed so angry. I run over everything he said in my head, trying to look for clues. I can't think of anything else he's asked me to do. The silence drags on. I try to be clever, think of this backwards. Maybe it wasn't what he said but what he didn't say? I'm at a loss; all I can think of is the fact he only told me to not move. Was there something else I should be doing? My throat feels dry. Maybe I should ask. He didn't tell me I couldn't speak, but the silence is imposing. Where is he? What is he doing? Time drags on. I want him, I want him right now. I want to dutifully serve my punishment. My mouth feels dry as I think of speaking; words slowly put themselves together in my mind.

"Master?" I whisper, my voice shakier than I intended it to be.

"Yes Slave?" I nearly scream. This whole time he's been standing right behind me, mere inches from my flesh. By reaction I jump away from him, but he catches me around the middle. He pulls me back up against him and crushes me to his body, letting me feel the anger still burning in him. I'm shocked to feel skin; he's stripped from the waist up.

"Yes Slave?" he repeats, this time sounding irritated. I grapple for words, "And you moved." There's a devious smirk in his voice.

"I'm ready for my punishment Master," I say nervously, "realizing that I've just been caught disobeying again." Maybe this time it was all part of the plan.

"No you're not," he scolds me and pushes me to the ground, "but I can fix that." I fall onto my hands and knees. The impact hurts. Then I hear the flick of a switch and a bright light comes on directly over a bed. It's black, the wood's been painted and every sheet matches. The black seems dark and seductive, rather fitting for a dungeon. I can faintly see the concrete walls around us, partial glimpses of nearby devices of torture really setting the tone.

"Crawl to the bed, stand, and bend over it," he commands me. I hesitate, unsure what fate might befall me if I submit. But noncooperation has a far greater cost in his world. I hear a rustling behind me as if he's moving toward me and I scramble to obey. The floor is cold and smooth beneath my hands and knees. I can hear him marching behind me, hurrying me along. I shuffle quickly, only now realizing how animal like and degrading this is. But this is punishment and if I seek to please my master I must carry it out to the fullest.

The second I'm in the ring of the spotlight it blinds me. My eyes water as I force them to stay open. The spotlight must be a high intensity bulb of some kind, just being in it makes my skin warm up. Looking around I realize I can't see outside of the light, like I'm in some kind of Hollywood interrogation. Somewhere in the outlying darkness I can hear him circling me.

"You lasted almost 5 minutes before you moved, I'll round up since you're new to this," he tells me as I lean over the bed., "so that gives you 35 instead of 40." I turn my head to see him moving in the darkness just outside of my view.

"35 what?" I ask him. His answer coming in the form of a sharp pain to my rear. I cry out, the sound echoing around the dungeon. I can see him now, just the part of him barely within the ring of light. In his hands he strokes a leather whip, a merciless smile on his shadowed face. He turns his wrist and I catch a brief glimpse of something tattooed there. In a dark bold font it reads 'A Slave Obeys'.

Another strike hits me this time on the opposite cheek. The sensation burns through my skin. I yelp and begin to push off the bed but a firm hand grabs me by the back of the neck and forces me back down. He holds me there whipping me across the ass repeatedly. I thrash at first but he just whips me harder, unmerciful. I can feel the whip marks hot and red as they throb even after the initial impact. It hurts so much I want to cry, but I grit my teeth and try to hold it in. Somehow I get the feeling that he could hurt me much more if he wanted to.

Over and over it continues, at a steady pace. I can almost swear I hear him snickering, with wickedness at the sight of my beaten ass. Instead of trying to block out the pain I concentrate on it, letting the feeling wash over me in waves. My master if punishing me, I am worthy of training. I want Master to punish me always when I am bad, I want to feel him like this. At some point the whipping stops and is replaced by the gentle caress of his hand over my stringing flesh.

"How many was that Slave?" I hear him whisper in my ear. My mind panics. I hadn't thought to keep track of how many times I was hit. I try frantically to estimate it in my head, but it would be so easy to be off by five or more. What number would he be likely to stop at? A round number or an arbitrary one? Or has he reached the end all together? I can't even come up with a guess, my mind flounders. He leans over the bed next to me, watching my silent terror with great interest. He seems to enjoy watching me in distress. To further my plight he leans over me as well, resting his arm still holding the whip directly in front of my face. His tattoo seems like a warning sign, 'A Slave Obeys'.

"I don't know Master," I whisper fearfully, "I'm sorry I wasn't keeping track. I'm ready to be punished more." I expected him to angrily get up and proceed to whip me further but instead he softly strokes my hair. I hazard a glance up at him and find him smiling at me.

"I am glad that you are honest Slave," he tells me, "you're at 30. Would you like to serve your last 5 in a different manner?"

"What manner is that?" I ask timidly, afraid to agree prematurely. I can hear him chuckle.

"I want you to undress and lay on the bed," he whispers seductively into my ear. Then he lets go of me and steps back into the shadows. I hesitate, at first debating if I should take the five more lashes or not. But then it dawns on me that I don't have a choice anymore. Regardless of whether I agreed to take the deal or not my master has made it clear what he wants. And a slave obeys.

I stand up, my ass stinging as my skirt brushes against it. I want very badly to remove the offending garment first, but I want to please my master. I know he's watching me and I want to give him a show. I start with my blouse, unbuttoning it from the bottom and slowly moving up to my breasts. I work carefully so as not to embarrass myself by getting in a fight with a button. Master shouldn't be kept waiting. As I move up I give him glimpses of my bra, black silk and lace that would match my thong if I still had it. I'm careful not to let the shirt fall too far open though, I want to tease him a bit.

As soon as all the buttons are loose I let my fingers trail up over my stomach and the curve of my breasts. Then slowly I peel off the shirt, making sure to push my breasts out and display them to the watching darkness. I consider throwing the shirt at him once I've got it off but I can't find him and let it fall to the floor.

With the bra I tease him a little bit more, slipping my fingers under the cup edges and playing with my nipples where he can't see. I hear a discontent growl from the blackness. I smile, having now located his position. I slip out of my bra and playfully toss it at the sound. He gives a satisfied chuckle after I hear him catch it.

I flash him a flirty smile and run my hands over my breasts. For a quick moment I heft their weight, letting my thumbs brush over the perked nipples. I give them a little bounce before moving on, having not gotten any verbal response. I'm sure he's enjoying the show, but I know we're both eager to move on.

I turn around, giving him a good view of my ass. Slipping my fingers into the waistband of my skirt I begin to gradually pull the fabric down. The last thing left covering myself from him. Facing away from him I take a nervous gulp, baring myself to the predator in his lair seems like a surefire way to end up in danger. But so does disobeying him, I can't lose.

I lean over gracefully, giving him a full view of my wet pussy as I bring my skirt down around my ankles. I feel nervous, unsure if I've lived up to his expectations. But a smile spreads across my face as I remember his satisfied chuckle, I'm doing well. Now I climb onto the bed, the black sheets having been warmed by the spotlight. I lay out across the bedspread like the models I've seen in lingerie magazines. The spotlight almost makes me feel like I'm on a stage, but right now only the man who matters is watching. I wait, knowing it is not my place to summon him, rather that he shall appear when it suits him.

He doesn't let me wait long, appearing from the shadows in the corner of my eye. He circles the bed as he examines me, seemingly quite satisfied. He grabs my ankle as soon as it's in reach and pulls my legs open. I'm more than willing to let him, spreading apart my other leg. He gazes upon my womanhood with a ravenous primal gaze.

"This time," he tells me, "you can make has much noise as you want." Then he begins stroking my nether lips with his fingertips. I moaned immediately, pushing my hips into his hand. He plunges his fingers in without much hesitation. It feels amazing, to finally be filled with a part of him. He moves them back and forth inside me, coating his hand in my juices.

As he continues to finger me he leans over my naked body, taking in my scent. I feel myself pant as he comes in and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, his hand moving faster and faster within me. He laps his tongue over my nipple and I groan. My back arches to press my breast against his face and he makes a satisfied growl. Then he nips at me and pushes off the bed, removing his hand from inside me.

"On your knees," he tells me, slapping my thigh with his hand and smearing my juices over my skin. I scramble to obey, now feeling empty and impatient to have him back inside me. His belt buckle clicks quickly as he hurries to undress. I feel a hand push into my back and nails dig into my skin.

"Head down Slave," he growls, not wasting time in convincing me to submit. I press my face against the sheets, feeling his nails still crawling at me. He mounts me hastily, eager to lay claim to my dripping cunt. I feel him rest his face on my back, a quick hot breath racing over my flesh before I feel his teeth bite me. I cry out in pain and feel him shove his length inside me. It's a shocking sudden sensation, but oh so welcome.

He bites me harder as he ramps it in again. It hurts but I move against him, the aching to be conquered far greater than this pain. I want to belong beneath him, my dutiful place in the world. We move together, liquids sliding between us. My hands are balled up in the bed sheets, trying to force him deeper and further inside me. I can hear him growl and take hold of my hips, releasing his teeth and concentrating on fucking me harder.

I pant and then cry out, suddenly feeling my head jerked back as he grabbed a fistful of my hair. My body is beginning to tighten as I climb toward my climax. His nails dig into the soft flesh of my hips. We're both sweating in the spotlight, both pain and pleasure coursing through my body. He growls, clearly close to cumming.

"I want to cum Master," I gasp, "I want to cum so bad."

"Not yet," he growls at me, "you will cum when I tell you too." I whimper, desperate to gain release. He speeds up, making it difficult to hold back. He groans and then pulls out. I turn around, at first confused. With a shove to my hip he flips me on my back. I wrap my legs around his waist and try to force him back inside me but he resists.

"Beg me for it Slave," he demands, grabbing my hips and forcing them back onto the bed. I'm panting, so eager to have his throbbing cock back inside me. Between the spread of my legs I can see it pulsing, slick with my liquids.

"Please Master, I want your hard cock inside me," I plead, "put it deep inside my waiting cunt. I want you so bad. Please Master!"

"Good Slave," he barely has time to say before ramming his length back between my wet folds. I gasp, moaning repeatedly as he fucks me. My breasts bounce with each thrust. His hand comes up and claws at my soft breasts. My body convulses, torn between whether to pull away from the pain or attach itself more firmly to his cock. Of course the ecstasy wins, pain now serving only to further arouse me. I reach up and dig my nails into his shoulders, drag them down across his chest. He gives a deep groan and spasms inside my cunt.

"Cum Slave," he suddenly commands in a growl. My body is immediate to respond, climaxing in obedient submission. My thighs clasp on to him and force him in deep, my muscles tightening around his spasming cock.

"Master!" I cry out, my whole body becoming tense and ridged. The climax is mind-blowing; I've never felt this feeling like every nerve is exploding with sparks of pleasure. My master feels it too and groans as he finishes. We collapse onto the bed, me shaking with exhaustion and pleasure in his arms. The warmth of the spotlight covers our bodies like a blanket. We pant, the sweat between our bodies making us stick. He flops down on the bed beside me, giving me a gentle stroke on the cheek. I catch another glimpse of his tattoo, a small smile spreading over my face. Tonight I feel I've pleased him with my obedience.

For a few moments I wonder if I'm to stay the night with him, but he doesn't seem intent on letting me leave anytime soon. I can feel him fading off into sleep, me tightly wrapped in his embrace. I wonder what the morning will bring, or even where my clothes have ended up.

"Master?" I ask him quietly, trying to catch him before he's all the way asleep, "I'm not getting my thong back, am I?"

He chuckles to himself and mumbles, "Damn right you're not."