Penance

I.

Her heart thumped against her ribs and her body trembled as Master pulled into the driveway. She opened the door and greeted Him, emptying His arms of the bags of groceries He had picked up on His way home. She tried to keep her voice from shaking and the tears in check as she hurried to put things away. He changed out of His work clothes into something comfortable, then went to His chair.

She followed silently, kneeling to His left, praying He didn't notice her guilt. However, it was only moments before He asked her what was wrong, having taken stock in how timid she had been behaving. She cowered slightly and the tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she tried to make herself smaller, invisible. Openly concerned now, He turned her face toward Him and asked again "precious, what is wrong?"

His use of her pet name, precious, tore her in two as she sobbed and tried to tell Him what she had done, ever fearful of His anger, yet, too ashamed to keep it hidden from Him. Reaching inside the bodice of her dress, she withdrew the shreds of paper she had been hiding. It was a letter to Him from another. She had seen who it was from and torn it to shreds before she realized what she was doing. She wanted to burn it--to make it no longer exist, but somehow it would haunt her. She would be lying to not tell Him of what she had done, and that lie would grow and multiply into other lies, all in a vain effort to hide her disobedience. She never wanted to lie to Him--she never wanted to break their trust. But she already had by destroying the letter. Her heart ached and her throat felt crushed by the pain.

At first He was confused by her actions, then He realized what she was holding. His fury was instant. He knew what had driven her to do such a thing--the one thing He could not stand, jealousy. He maintained Himself and took the scraps from her, trying to piece together whom it was from. She managed to whisper the name; her eyes downcast, staring at her hands tightly clenched in her lap. She waited for Him to yell, to lash out, or worse . . . to send her away. She had been incapacitated by the fear that she had made her last mistake with Him. Not able to resume her daily chores, she sat with her head lying in His chair staring off into the Hell she had created for herself until He drove up. Now she waited for Hell to take her.

What was seconds seemed like hours to her as the silence stretched. Suddenly, He pulled her to His lap and held her against His chest. Any punishment He could think of, He realized, couldn't surpass what she had done to punish herself during the day. Not that He wouldn't, but He realized she needed some nurturing and reassurance first. Then she would get the punishment she deserved as a reminder that it wasn’t forgotten. He knew she would take her punishment without a whimper, and though she would be spending the night sleeping on her pad, hands and feet tied to the bedposts, He would spend the following day loving her back to the point where she faltered. She sobbed in relief as she felt His loving arms hold her tightly, finally realizing that they would be alright.

II.

She readied herself as she was told; naked except for the collar used during her punishments. It was three inches thick and made from heavy black leather. Rings were built in all around for a variety of bondage positions. It fit snugly, nearly preventing her from being able to look down. She knelt under the large, eyehooks in the middle of the room, hands resting in her lap, eyes downcast, and waited for Him to rig her punishment.

He hung a single chain, 3/4 inch, doubled through the hook above her head. He then pulled her to her feet and bound her wrists together in thick leather cuffs; her ankles were strapped to a spreader bar. He ran the chain through the D-hook of the wrist cuffs and pulled her arms up until she was stretched nearly to tiptoeing. Then He placed a blind fold over her eyes and left the room.

She waited in the dark, straining to hear any hint of what He was about to do. But she heard only silence. Her mind played different scenarios of what may come to pass, some more brutal than others, which make her blood pound in her ears. In her heart, she knew that He would be fair: but that didn't mean it would be painless.

Time stretched until she had no idea how long she had been hanging there. Her body was beginning to rebel by cramping here and there, causing her to have to shift often for relief. The jangling of the chains must have been His cue to return. She heard the door behind her open and shut. Then she felt His presence. However, He was completely silent.

He carried a small, soft suede flogger that had been modified with wooden beads added to some of the tails. He rarely used it but reasoned that the thudding and bruising effect of the beads carried more punishment than the sharp smack and sting she had grown to love. He walked up behind her and removed the blindfold. She sucked in her breath as the coolness of the beads drug slowly up her back.

Just Him being near was enough to start the throbbing between her legs, but her mind snapped back to why she was here as soon as she felt the flogger connect with her back. His swing wasn't hard but the thudding of the beads against her already sore muscles were like pelting hailstones. A whimper escaped her throat, but she choked it short determined to take her punishment as it was handed down to her without complaint. The flogger rained slow and methodical across her back and thighs until her body warmed with the dull pain. Soon, she could not remember ever having felt anything but the dull ache that was now her body--her mind drifted and her body sagged against the restraints.

The sound of His voice snapped her back, "are you alright, precious?"

"Yes, Master," she answered hoarsely. He pulled her back against Him and undid her wrist restraints murmuring, "you are such a good girl, precious" against her neck. Making sure she was steady, He knelt to free her ankles, then stood again behind her, wrapping His arms around her for support as she found her legs again. He rubbed her arms to speed the circulation and felt her quiver as the needles of pain woke her sleeping hands.

Occasionally she winced as her muscles cramped against the soreness, causing Him to rethink making her sleep alone on her mat. She had done well to tell Him of her betrayal in the first place and had taken her punishment without protest. Holding her close, He led her to their bed and removed the punishment collar, then laid her down gently. She looked at Him questioningly, having expected to be separated from Him all night. But He undressed and slipped in beside her, molding her to His hard body, her head on His shoulder and one leg wrapped across His thighs. In the morning, after His "wake-up" call and her maintenance, He decided, He will relieve her sore muscles with a massage. And she, He mused, will relieve Him, again and again. She sighed contentedly and drifted to sleep.

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