Lanie's Terrible Day

Forcing herself not to show how horrified she was, the blushing girl walked to her owner. He appraised her, telling her to turn around slowly. Many eyes watched her through the plate glass and for the first time she thought about defying Master and telling him she wouldn't obey ever again. But she knew that wouldn't happen. Her love for her Master was too deep, too strong. So she bit her lip and endured the humiliation.

As Master led her from the lingerie store, having allowed her to change back into her street clothes, he turned to her and said, "I'm hungry, property. Let's go to the food court."

At the food court he sent her to a table and told her to sit and wait. Shortly, he arrived with a grilled chicken sandwich, a bowl of soup, and fries on a tray. He sat down and began to eat. She stared at him, waiting for him to pass some of the food her way, but it wasn't happening. The hot soup smelled wonderful and her mouth watered as she pondered how delicious it would be. She'd almost given up on eating when her master put his sandwich down and lifted the soup bowl. "Hungry, property?" he asked. "Have something to eat." Then he bent down and sat the bowl on the floor.

Lanie stared at him in amazement. He just couldn't be serious. He returned her gaze impassively. "I won't order you to eat, property," he said, "but it will be the last food you get until dawn, so I wouldn't waste the opportunity."

The girl's jaw dropped. He was serious! He actually expected her to get on all fours, right here in front of God and everybody, and eat out of a bowl on the floor like a dog! But her stomach was beginning to growl, and morning was a dozen hours away. Silently, she clambered to the floor and lowered her head to the plastic bowl.

By the time they returned home Lanie was exhausted, mentally and emotionally. The soup she'd eaten had tasted good going down but had quickly soured in her stomach. Her slave heart was sick inside her because she had displeased her master enough that he'd treated her so callously all day. She was not His slave because she had to be, but because she loved Him completely, and so had given herself into His care. She had taken His collar because He was a naturally dominant man and she was enthralled and entranced by the quiet power He wielded by virtue of His very presence. Hers was the soul of a wild falcon that has been captured and trained by a man to obey his direction. She adored her master and wanted only to please Him. All the punishments she had suffered today were awful, but they paled beside the knowledge that she had failed Him.

Master took his time walking into their house, not offering to help Lanie carry their purchases. Once inside he ordered her to put the bags down, which she did. Then she hurried to his side to remove his shoes (his usual pattern when returning home).

"After you've put that stuff away, property, you can join me in the bathroom." Master was already heading back the short hall and he called back over his shoulder, "and bring my robe." Moments later she heard water running as he filled the tub.

When the slave joined her master in the bathroom he commanded her to undress him, and once she was naked also he stepped into the bathtub. "Wash me," he directed.

Lanie had bathed her master often and was pleased to do the task. She enjoyed the way his skin felt when it was all slippery with soap. She found him to be a very sexy and attractive man and she looked on this job as being a form of worship, to remind him that she loved and desired him. A bath also allowed her ample opportunity to arouse him when she was horny, and then she'd get some good, solid fucking.

Using a blue washcloth, Lanie gently scrubbed her master's fuzzy chest, and she couldn't help but smile at the sight of the little bubbles sparkling in the hair on his belly. She washed down lower, taking extra care while washing his heavy, dangling testes. Nearly the size of two ping-pong balls, they were very sensitive, and she didn't want to hurt this man who had stolen her heart. Her caress was knowing and light, but nothing compared to how her hand moved when she slipped her soapy, warm fingers around the length of Master's penis. Using the soap for lubrication she stroked him slowly, tilting the flaccid organ up towards his stomach. She knew he loved this kind of touch, and this was confirmed when he closed his eyes and moaned softly. "Your slave is glad to please you, beautiful master," she murmured. "I am so sorry that you've been displeased with me lately. I promise to do better in the future."

Lanie's hands brought her master to the brink of orgasm before he stopped her. "Not yet," he rasped, his voice thick and throaty from his arousal. "Finish washing me first." The slave-girl's ears perked up at that. Master hadn't called her "property" that time. Maybe he was getting in the mood to forgive her. She smiled inside and her washing of Master's body became even more joyous for her.

She scrubbed his back, her nails gently scratching down his spine to the sensitive split of his butt. She tickled him there, knowing how it teased and excited him. Then her soapy fingers slipped between the cheeks, washing and then tickling the tight ring of his anus. It made her master squirm at the touch and she almost giggled out loud at how he tried to be in-control even though he was wiggling so at her touch.

Finally he was clean from top to bottom. After Lanie had dried him with a fresh towel she knelt before him and bowed her head. His penis, now only semi-hard, arched just above the crown of her head. "My beautiful Master, your loving slave waits for your next wish. How may I serve you now?"

Wordlessly, Lanie's master reached into the linen closet and withdrew a fat tube. He popped the lid open and handed it to her. "Lube my cock," he said.

Immediately she knew what was coming. Master wanted to fuck her up the ass. "Yes, Master," she replied. Lanie wasn't really into anal sex. She couldn't orgasm from it and it actually hurt some because Master's prick was so thick. Fortunately he didn't want it often. It was a power thing with him. When he wanted to exert his authority over her then he'd sometimes want her backdoor to open for him.

Lanie quickly began to spread the slippery lotion over the head of her Master's penis. Almost immediately the fleshy organ began to thicken and swell as his arousal increased. Soon it was standing out straight like a limb on a tree, and it glistened in the bright lights of the bathroom. "That's enough," he said. "Get up and turn around."

The slave quickly did as she'd been told and her master stepped in close behind her. He pushed her forward until she was bent forward and holding on to the porcelain sink. The white, smooth surface was cold to her touch but that wasn't why Lanie was gritting her teeth. She knew what was about to happen. Master was pressing the pointed tip of his cock into her sphincter, and faint sparks of pain were already beginning to burn in her ass. She closed her eyes as the head entered her...it was really hurting today. Has he grown a bigger dick, she wondered to herself.

Without warning, Master rammed hard. Lanie's hands slipped off the sink and her thighs slapped the cold porcelain painfully. Flames leaped up her rectum as her master jammed his thick rod deep into her guts.

He grabbed her hips and immediately began to pump. "Ohhhhh, Masterrrr," she cried, "it huurrrts!" She knew Master wanted her ass to hurt when he fucked her there, but she wasn't kidding. It did hurt! She hadn't really been ready and he was moving so fast and hard that it felt like he was tearing her open.

Behind her he grunted like a rutting boar. His prick was sawing in and out of her brutally, plunging into her body like a dagger. She could see him in the mirror over the sink, see how his eyes were shut tight and his jaw was set hard as he ravaged her tender hiney. At first he took deep, measured strokes, but as his climax approached he began to pump less rhythmically and with greater force. Soon he was stabbing into her frenziedly, and snarling loudly.

Lanie knew what it all meant. She was ready when his fingers clawed deep into her sides and he roared with a fury that scared her every time she heard it. His cock ballooned inside her and began to spit hot ribbons of his sperm into her butt. The thick syrup washed her raw, sore rectum and new fire burned inside her.

Master stood, balls deep in her tight ass, for a full minute. Then he sagged, pulled his wilting member free of her aching sphincter and sat down on the toilet. He was breathing heavily and his genitals were bright pink. The penis was streaked with shiny, wet red. "Wash it," he commanded.

Lanie quickly soaped up a washcloth and knelt before her master. She gently washed his limp organ, being extra careful because she knew it would be tender after what he'd just done with it. As she worked, he reached out and ran his hand lightly over the softness of her hair. His voice was soft as he asked, "Who is your master?"

"You are my lord and master. You are wise and kind and sexy and beautiful and I love you," she replied, not daring to look up from her task.

"And what are you, then?"

"I am your slave, Master. I live for your pleasure and comfort. My life is to serve you and my joy is to be your possession."

"Good answers," he said. "Have you learned to be more respectful to your master, and to not shirk your duties towards me?"

Lanie couldn't help but smile to herself. Master was acting more like his old self. Maybe the ordeal was finally over. "Yes, my master, I have learned. I have learned that I was less than I should have been in your service. I am deeply ashamed for having disappointed you. If you will forgive me and accept me again I will do everything in my power to never be a disappointment to you again." She did not dare look up until his fingers slipped under her chin and lifted her face to meet his.

"Very good, slave. Your master is pleased with you." Lanie's heart leaped inside her at his words. He was forgiving her! "But there is still the matter of your behaviour this afternoon when you wasted my seed. That must be addressed." Fresh fear washed like acid through her belly. What was about to happen?

"Master, I'm sorry," she began. "I know it was wrong, but I was sick, and," but he stopped her with his fingertip on her lips.

"I told you that you would spend the night in your pen for what you'd done, slave. That is appropriate punishment, I believe."

She hung her head again, images of the prison cell her master had constructed in the cool, damp cellar-cum-torture chamber. "Yes, my master," she whispered. "May your slave wash up before she goes to her pen?" Tears dripped from her emerald eyes as she said it. To be locked away from her master's arms, even for just one night, was a heartbreaking torment for her.

"You may wash, slave. But you do not have to go to your pen. Your punishment is over."

Her wet eyes lifted to his. Had she heard right? "Master?" she started.

He smiled. "Part of being in command is knowing how to admit you've been wrong. I know you had no choice in what happened. Your stomach was upset by circumstances and you had to vomit. You didn't choose to do that. So you shouldn't be punished for what you couldn't control, should you?"

"Oh, no, Master," she wept. "Thank you so much! Thank you for being so wonderful and loving me so!" Then she impulsively kissed him, full on his sensual lips. "I love you so much, my master! And I'm going to make you happy. I'll be the best slave you ever saw!"

Chuckling, he kissed her back. "Clean up, pet. I'm going to get us some popcorn and a big root beer to share, and when you're done you can pick a movie from the rack and join me in the bedroom. We'll hold each other and watch the flick and love each other. Sound good?"

"It sounds wonderful, Master. Thank you so, so much!"

He pointed his thumb towards the tub. "Better get started on that shower, little one. We've got a lot of making up to do." He kissed her again, and she shivered inside at the touch of his tongue to her own. God, she loved this powerful, beautiful man. Lanie sang happily in the shower as she scrubbed away all the sorrow of her terrible day.