Penance

Story Info
After running away, she thinks she's free.
4.3k words
4.33
21.3k
6
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Freagra
Freagra
1 Followers

I thought I'd found the right one - a Master who would treasure me as well as discipline me. I'd always been turned on by the thought of being owned by a strong and demanding man who would punish me if I failed to please him, and I'd loved letting him control and use me. I had loved learning how to please him. Then I began with the smart mouth comebacks. This need to test my limits was one of those character flaws my mother and my teachers had always complained about.

I'd quickly learned that however amused he might be by my cheekiness he would still discipline me. My butt had been reddened more than once for flippantly asking what his last slave had died of or suggesting he get his own drink. After the punishment I'd tearfully promise him I would not let my smart mouth get me into trouble anymore. They were wasted words, because eventually I just had to voice one too many smart comments, accompanied by real hints of defiance.

Finally, his usual tolerant amusement was obliterated by real anger. I have not forgotten the bruises he left on my throat as his hand pinned me against the wall or the dark savagery in his eyes. He'd let me go and stepped away. This time, he'd told me, I would learn that I was born to be a slave and then he'd left me alone in my apartment.

At first I had been a little fearful, wondering what punishment he planned, but the days passed with no contact from him and I'd grown puzzled, then resentful. I'd been good for a while, waiting for the telephone call and hoping he wouldn't stay away too long. Then I decided he wasn't the right one for me. He should have known that abandoning me was not what I wanted. So, I'd done the unthinkable. I'd found another apartment well away from my usual haunts, asked the company boss if I could shift offices to be closer to the new place, and hidden where he wouldn't find me. Between bouts of lonely tears and cursing him for failing me I'd soothed myself with visions of him looking for me frantically without success. Now the emptiness was easier to bear and I hoped, in time, that I'd find another one who would give me what I wanted.

Opening the door of the apartment was easy, despite having a huge bunch of red roses in one arm. I hadn't been able to resist the dark crimson or the strong perfume as I headed home after work. It was one of those little treats I'd found useful to take my mind off the memories. Now such treats were almost a habit and always made me feel special.

I nudged the door closed behind me with one leg and froze. A large figure was standing at the window, staring out at the road below. I knew that shape intimately and recalled the cold rage in his face the day I had pushed our relationship too far. Now he was here, in my room. I had actually managed to make him really angry months ago and running away would have consolidated his rage into something far more dangerous. I couldn't hold back the desperate little yelp as the door clicked solidly shut and he turned to look at me. The roses tumbled to the floor as I dropped to my knees, eyes down and hands resting on my open thighs.

"Well, well. At least you still have some manners left," he sneered as he moved a couple of steps further into the room.

"Get on your belly."

Wordlessly, I slid forward and assumed the position he commanded, fingers locked behind my neck, forehead on the floor. I could feel my heart hammering against the wooden floor as I listened to him walk slowly towards me and then walk around my prone body until he stopped near my head. If I squinted to look sideways I could just see the toe of one boot. I wondered how on earth he had found me. As if he was reading my mind he remarked conversationally, "Did you really think you could just disappear? That I wouldn't know where you were all the time?"

"No......yes........." In trying to answer his question I floundered meaninglessly.

"I don't know why I bother. Be quiet."

With that dismissive remark, he walked away and I heard the drawers in the kitchen open and close. I dared not look, but he was soon back, one leg on either side of my body. He dropped to his knees and one strong hand gripped the back of my T-shirt at the neck, pulling it towards him. I couldn't stop the squeak of panic as I felt cold steel touch my skin. He laughed and rested the blade against my skin so that I knew he did indeed have a knife in his hand.

The T-shirt, pulled tight between my body and his hand, gave easily as the knife cut along the full length of the back. The point drifted back along my spine, like the fingernail of a cold dead hand, and he shifted his grip on the T-shirt to cut along the shoulders on both sides. My skirt also parted easily, the knife cutting it from waist to hem on one long movement. I bit my bottom lip in an attempt to not whimper. Not that it would have mattered to him if I had whimpered, except perhaps to confirm that I was finally truly frightened of him.

He shifted above me, but only to roughly rip first the remnants of the T-shirt and then the skirt from under my body. Swift cuts and a few hard tugs left me without bra or panties, lying naked on the floor. I struggled to keep my hands clasped, wrapping them around my neck with nose pressed to the floor as he had commanded. What if he noticed the final treachery I was trying to hide?

The flat of the blade pushed under my hands and lifted them. Gently, with my palms unresistingly resting against the blade, he pressed the point against the back of my neck. I flinched as his other hand caressed my neck. His hand was warm, but my shame made me think that it burned like a brand against my skin.

"My, my, no collar."

His voice was deceptively pleasant. I felt sure he had known all along that I had removed the delicate collar he had placed there almost 6 months ago. I tried to bury my ultimate nakedness against the uncaring wooden floor, unable to prevent a low moan of fear. His hand moved around to the softness of my throat and cupped the slenderness against the point of the knife.

"Stay very still, Princess. Don't move even an inch. I am very disappointed with you."

His voice was calm as he removed his hand, along with the sharp tip of the knife. I heard him walk steadily away and the slight scrape of a chair before he dropped into it. The silence stretched as I lay there waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do next. The sweet smell of the roses scattered around me filled my nostrils and I wanted to explain that I shouldn't have been left alone without hearing his voice or feeling his touch. I wanted to tell him that I hadn't wanted to run away, but he had ignored me and I'd thought he didn't care enough to punish me. Yet the memory of the few months he had spent training me and my newfound fear kept me silent. He sighed and clicked his fingers.

"Come here."

I started to crawl to him, but he stopped me with a sharp command to stay on my belly. The short distance across the floor seemed a long way as I dragged myself to him. Moving in this position I could not even show the swing of my breasts or the long line of my spine until it disappeared into the curve of my buttocks. It was clumsy and demeaning, highlighting his absolute displeasure with me. Finally, I lay with my cheek next to his boot, too ashamed to even risk a quick lick of the leather.

"Well, what am I to do with you?"

The question was rhetorical. He continued with a quiet request for me to list my transgressions since he had seen me last. Stumbling over the words I began to whisper.

"Start again and louder. I can't hear you."

Swallowing and trying to keep my voice clear, I began again, from the day he had told me I was a dilettante and he was not sure I was worth his efforts. My voice grew more wobbly as I recited first all of my anger at him because I thought he had abandoned me, and then my decision to pleasure myself because I had not heard from him, all leading to my plans to run away and the final act of taking off the collar I had invited him to place around my neck.

The enormity of my actions filled me as I spoke and by the time I reached the end I was sobbing. He ignored me and let me cry until the cries became sniffling sobs and I pressed my cheek against his boot in an act of contrition. He moved his foot away and I struggled to not start crying again or ask him what I desperately needed to know - what he intended to do. There was soft thud and a slight metallic rattle next to my face and I tried to turn my head to see what had made the noise without him noticing.

"It's OK, Princess, you can look because you have a choice to make. I am fed up with ignorant little bitches who think they want the lifestyle, but are not prepared to make the final commitment."

His voice was distant and hard and I started to cry again, protesting between the sobs.

"I did not ask you to do anything other than tell me your transgressions and now you whine like a dog. It's just another example of your refusal to accept discipline," he harshly continued. "Now - your choices. Look at what is on the floor next to you."

That dried my sobs to gulps and I turned my head to focus through the tears at the object he'd dropped. It was a plain leather dog collar with a lead attached. My instincts were right - he had known I'd removed his collar. I realised he could read me as easily as I could read the daily newspaper.

"I thought you had committed yourself when you offered me your neck to collar but you think this is a game. This time, once that collar is around your neck you will surrender your will to me or I will break you completely."

His words were like blows, each one delivered in a measured tone.

"Or you can say no and I will leave. However, everyone will know that I regarded you a waste of time."

I knew that would mean that it would be a long time, perhaps never, until I found someone else. I also knew he was right; I had not fully given myself to his will, thinking I could have everything I wanted without consequences or responsibility. His demand that I place the collar around my own neck was the perfect way to brand in my mind that I had chosen to submit completely instead of thinking it was all just a game I could enjoy.

Timidly I reached for the collar and undid it. It wasn't that easy, lying on my belly and struggling to get the buckle undone. Mentally, it was even harder to put it round my neck and do it up. Once I had done that I knew there would be no going back. He didn't move throughout the whole process, nor did he speak, but I knew he watched as I finally got the buckle done up and returned my forehead to the floor.

I didn't have long to wait to learn what he intended. Without speaking he reached down and took a firm grip on the collar. I couldn't stop the whimper of fear as I was half dragged, half carried, like a dog about to be tossed out the back door for peeing on the floor, to the kitchen. He pushed me across the kitchen counter that separated the tiny living area from the even smaller kitchen and stepped back. I hung across it, unable to touch the floor. I couldn't hear what he was doing behind me but it didn't take long to find out. The first smack of his belt against my bare buttocks let me know what was in store and I wailed in surprise and shock.

"Be silent. I do not want to hear your voice until you begin to understand that my voice is the only one that matters."

The belt whistled again. With expert skill, it landed immediately below the first mark. As did the next and the next, as he worked down my buttocks and thighs. At other times his hand would drive me mad with delight as it traced the reddening marks or even caressed my pussy between the blows, but this time there was no respite. I struggled to stay silent, but couldn't prevent the tiny moans each blow drew. He changed sides to rest his arm and began again, this time working from the thighs, up towards the reddening cheeks. Despite the pain I realised his blows where carefully controlled. He could have raised welts or even drawn blood, but these were designed for prolonged punishment and, finally, I couldn't hold back the sobs, both of fear and of pain.

I tried counting in my mind to provide some measure of pride, but in the end I lost count. I wanted desperately to say the safeword, to see if he would care enough to stop, but he'd told me he didn't want to hear my voice and I knew how badly I'd behaved. It was his right to do whatever he wanted because I'd given that right to him when I had placed the collar around my own neck. In the end, that was what kept me from screaming for him to have mercy. I had finally given him my trust and I couldn't plead for him to stop. It was for him to decide when I had learned my lesson.

At last he stopped. He was breathing a little heavily as he walked around the counter. I whimpered and looked at him through my tears. He held the belt up to my lips and I kissed it.

"Hold it," he commanded as he pushed it between my teeth.

Willingly I closed my mouth on the leather and he slid his hands along my arms to guide my hands to the edge of the bench top, closing my unresisting fingers on it. He took the belt from my mouth and told me to hold tight because this was going to be bad. His tone made my body start to shake as he turned to walk away. Then he paused, looked back at me and reached over to grab the tea towel hanging next to the sink. He pushed it into my mouth with a terse command to bite down on it if I had to. My body started to shake harder as he moved away to stand behind me again.

The cheeks of my ass were already hot and red when the blow landed. The already sensitized skin came alive in a strip of fire and I bit down on the tea towel. As the next one landed I clung to the bench top like a rock climber clinging to bare rock after the safety line had failed. The belt only swung twice, but it was enough. For the first time since I had met him I realised he'd never used his full strength to punish me. From that day forward I would remember what he was capable of.

The touch of his hand as he ran it over my hot buttocks was soft, but the sudden thrust of two fingers into my pussy was not. My yelp was muffled in the tea towel as he stretched and pushed against the tunnel walls.

"Princess, you are amazing."

He sounded pleased. Despite the pain caused by his expert use of the belt, particularly the last two strokes, I was swollen and wet. His fingers were abruptly withdrawn and he walked around and gently tilted my head up to look at him again. His thumbs brushed the tears away and he eased the tea towel out of my mouth. He turned the tap on, letting some water run into the palm of his hand and carrying it to my mouth. Gratefully, I lapped the liquid to ease the dryness from having the tea towel stuffed in my mouth. He hooked his fingers under the collar again and dragged me sideways off the counter and let me drop to the floor as he walked back around it and into the little sitting room.

"Suck me," he ordered as he undid his jeans and dropped into an easy chair.

I had collapsed to my knees when dropped off the edge of the counter. At his words I crawled to him, the lead dangling from my collar. Desperate to tell him I was grateful for his chastising I pressed my body against his legs as I lifted my mouth to lick his thighs, working toward his cock. His fingers twisted in my hair and he pulled me up a little and pushed my face against his groin. His cock was huge and hard as I opened my mouth obediently and sucked in as much as I could.

"Good girl."

I wanted him to forgive me, and let my tongue swirl around the head and flutter against the shaft as I sucked him into my mouth. For a little while he was still and let me worship his cock, but then he sighed and told me that I still had much to learn and I needed to accept that nothing was for my pleasure, only his. I whimpered around his cock and pressed against him, letting him feel my hard nipples and soft body. My mouth clung to his shaft, using my lips and tongue to plead with him to let me continue sucking his glorious cock.

Instead he sat forward, his hands tightened in my hair and he pulled my face against him, his cock thrusting deep into my throat, and I gagged. He ignored me and continued to fuck my face, holding me still with his hands as his hips pumped his shaft deep into my mouth.

"Your mouth is sweet, Princess, and it is mine, isn't it?"

I couldn't answer with his cock thrusting in and out of my mouth, but I tried to by accepting the head deep in my throat, keeping my mouth open so he could fuck me any way he wanted. Saliva was running down my chin and my lips were swollen and bruised when he pulled out, patting me on the head and telling me again that I was a good girl. I couldn't hold the whimper back and my hands clung to his legs, to pull him back to me.

"Enough, turn around."

As quickly as my body would let me I turned, head and shoulders on the floor, thighs apart and lifted my ass as high as I could for him. He moved forward on the chair and let his hands run over the welts formed from the final two blows. They ran across both cheeks, which throbbed under his hands. I could feel my pussy aching for his touch and moaned softly, pushing towards him.

"Open yourself for me," he commanded.

Reaching back I stretched my pussy open for him, showing the soft gleam of fluid on the swollen lips.

"No, your ass, as wide as you can."

I bit my lip to stop the little sound of protest. I liked it in the ass, but I had to be primed and hot. I had loved it when he had prepared me with his fingers or a vibrator, but I wasn't ready. The bruised cheeks hurt under my hands, but I didn't hesitate and moved my hands to open the sphincter as much as I could. His finger traced the puckered, stretched hole and he moved closer to the edge of the chair, tossing a couple of cushions from the chair to thud softly on the floor behind me.

He knelt behind me on the cushions and I felt the swollen head of his cock push against my tight asshole. One hand steadied the shaft and the other gripped the collar. The whimper from my lips was involuntary, quickly stifled.

"Relax, Princess. Push into it."

His voice still commanded, but it also encouraged. It gave me enough strength to remain silent as his cock pushed deeper and deeper, easing in a little more with each thrust. Finally the entire length was buried in my hot, tight little asshole.

"Brace, little one," he murmured as his grip on the collar tightened.

As vigorously as he had fucked my mouth he fucked my ass. I struggled to breathe as the collar was pulled tight, but it made it easier for him to pleasure himself as he slammed against my red and swollen buttocks. The pain of the unprepared entry was gone and I could feel his balls against my skin as his long, hard shaft pushed all the way in. I wanted to feel his fingers in my pussy or against my clitoris, but I sensed this fucking was not only for his pleasure but also to reinforce that I was his. He would not allow me the orgasm that my body desperately sought.

With one final groan he let go of the collar and used both his hands to pull me hard against him. It seemed his cock had grown even larger and longer as his pulsing orgasm filled me with warm come. For long moment he remained deep inside me as the last of his orgasm spent itself, then he withdrew. I could feel a little of the warm come ooze out and moaned in frustration. I knew my pussy gaped for attention and I wanted desperately to reach back and play with myself, fingers working into the wetness and rubbing over the clitoris until I too lost myself in an orgasm.

Instead I heard his voice tell me to clean him as he sat down again. I closed my eyes to stop the pricking tears and bit my lip to stop the urge to whiningly plead for him to let me come. I was glad I had been empty and clean because this was one thing I hated. I turned to offer myself in the ultimate act of cleaning him with my tongue, tasting his come mixed with my own bitter taste, licking him until he was totally clean. I hoped the throbbing between my legs would soon subside because I knew I would not get any pleasure until he was ready to allow it. I finished and he dismissed my ministrations by pushing me away and tidying up his clothes.

Freagra
Freagra
1 Followers
12