Seeking

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The pain and pleasure journals.
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

This material is presented as adult entertainment and is not intended for any person under the age of eighteen years. While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the author assumes no responsibilities for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of information contained herein. All characters and descriptions contained herein are purely fictitious.

Prologue

My name is of no importance to these journals. My history is that of almost any young woman of my generation. There is nothing startling or unusual in it indicating a predilection for the dark side. My place of birth, my childhood, my time at the university, these are all totally immaterial. This is not a memoir or a biography.

If you continue to read, you will have to accept the experiences I was forced to record at face value. I give no explanations or justification for what my life has become. My journals relate what was done to me over the weeks of my training as a slave to Sir, the man who was my Master. I was instructed by him to keep a hand written record of my training and to include the feelings and emotions that my ordeals aroused in me. I hated writing about what I was enduring at first but as the weeks passed my time with pen and paper became a solace to me.

Recently, I decided to publish my journals. I am not a writer and when I set down the accounts of my ordeals, I often wrote in a form that has been described as 'stream of consciousness'. At other times I employed a personal form of shorthand. In order that my experiences and feelings be presented in a more easily read form, I sent these journals to the author to prepare and present as he chose with the proviso that both I and Sir remain anonymous.

Soon after my relationship with Sir began, I was pierced and marked. My nipples were adorned with rings. My labial lips also sported Sir's jewelry. I came to barely remember the embarrassment of the piercings. They became so much a part of me that I scarcely noticed them unless their movement stimulated me or they were incorporated by Sir into my pain or pleasure. On the surface and to all appearances, I was my Master's true slave. All was not as it seemed though.

During this early time with Sir, before the training sessions began, there were instances of confusion. Moments of anger and doubt. I often wondered if my nature was truly submissive or if I was merely playing at something beyond my understanding. Did my ultimate pleasure lie in totally pleasing another? At times, I found myself rebelling against the subjugation of my individuality.

I was periodically uncomfortable with the feeling of being absorbed by a stronger will. Needless to say, these displays of willfulness displeased Sir. I was unhappy as well. It was a situation that demanded resolution. I was told that I must either prove that I truly belonged to him or that I must leave. I was asked to give myself body and soul into the hands of professional Masters for the full duration of their course. I would have to present myself to them twice a week for individual training.

What had once been a working farm on the outskirts of town had been converted into a school for slaves. By committing myself wholeheartedly to their program it was assured that I would come face to face with my inner self once and for all. It was my strong desire for an end to the uncertainty that had finally convinced me to pledge my obedience to the program.

And what of my Master you may be asking yourselves? He shall remain as vague and shadowy to you as he was real and all powerful to me. How he found me and how he bound me to his service are matters that shall remain private. It may seem incongruous that I so jealously guard these small details of my life, while I lay bare my soul in the pages ahead. The explanation lies in precisely that fact though. This is not the story of me; it is the story of my soul. It no longer seems strange to me that agony and ecstasy are two sides of the same coin. Every morning following my commitment to the Masters' course, that coin spun through the air for me and I learned to live by the face it showed.

The First Session

I was given a set of instructions to follow in preparation for each training session.... I was instructed to shave myself bare...... my underarms, my legs, even the hair from my mound, my cunt and my ass. I had been given a list of items to purchase as well: A two quart enema bag with a hook for hanging; a douche nozzle, which is longer and fatter than the standard enema nozzle; adult glycerin suppositories and lastly, packets of Castile soap flakes.

Next came the hardest and almost torturous part of my preparation...I had been warned that it would be a two hour process...First, I had to insert three glycerin suppositories into my rectum and hold them inside for at least twenty minutes. No less, no matter how bad the cramping got. The instructions suggested setting a timer so I wouldn't cheat. At the end of that long twenty minutes I was allowed to relieve myself on the toilet. Next I had to fill the enema bag with two quarts of warm water and mix in a packet of soap flakes. I hung the bag on the towel rack and then knelt down on the floor. I applied lube to the nozzle and worked it all the way into my ass. With my cheek to the floor and my ass raised, I released the clamp. I stopped the flow as necessary when the cramping got bad or I felt like I couldn't hold anymore. Once that feeling passed, I continued until the whole bag was empty. I held this solution for a full ten minutes and left the nozzle in to help hold in the soapy water. I was allowed and even encouraged to roll onto my side or back and massage my belly to let the solution work deep inside me.

This proved to be very difficult....that much water had filled me so full that my belly looked huge. The soapy solution caused such bad cramping that I thought I'd die. I didn't think there was any way I could continue to hold it all in. The cramps kept hitting in waves and all I could do was massage my belly and roll and clench as tight as I could the whole time. I cried with the pain and the urgency, fearing all the while that I would fail to hold it in long enough.

Somehow I managed to survive the painfully long waiting period. I was so swollen that I had to cradle my belly in my hands as I rose to the toilet. It took as much as thirty minutes for all of the soapy solution to work its way out. Finally I filled the bag with warm water and added one teaspoon of salt. I had to take the full two quarts of water and hold it for yet another twenty minutes to rinse out the last of the soapy solution. When at last, I expelled this, I was considered sufficiently clean inside for the Masters. I did feel completely cleaned out...empty inside and pounds lighter. I didn't know how I did it or how I would find the courage to go through this twice a week for the training. Of course, after that I was also expected to bathe the outside of my body thoroughly. It took longer than the 2 hours and so I had to rush around getting ready to leave.

I managed to finally locate the farm after several wrong turns and arrived at a quarter till five. My heart was pounding and I was shaking so badly that I just sat in the car for several minutes, but then knowing that I had given my word, that this was my commitment.....I got out and entered the barn through the small side door.

A man who introduced himself as Master James met me there and it was almost like he had been standing there waiting. I wondered if he had been watching me, if he had felt my indecision as I had hesitated in the car. He motioned me to follow him down a short hallway and led me into a small changing room.

"Take off all your clothes, slut," he said, "and then come into the dungeon."

He smiled a little bit when he said it and I felt better. I didn't say anything, just kept my eyes lowered and nodded. When he left I slipped out of my clothes and laid them over a little bench that was there. Not wanting to give myself time to think or reconsider, I did as directed and opened the same door Master James had used when he left me.

The inside of the barn was huge and filled with all kinds of contraptions.....things I'd never seen before but had read about.......hooks, pulleys and rings hung from the rafters and big eye bolts stuck up out of the floor and the walls. There were saw horses, some padded and some not, padded posts, benches and tables. I saw several big crosses and even a stainless steel medical examination table. A raised platform that appeared to be a stage of some sort. In front of it were rows of chairs where an audience might be seated. There was like....well like a whole bathroom. It was not enclosed though and the tub, toilet and all were exposed. Spotlights were everywhere in the ceiling and one turned on me when I stepped into the room. Master James stepped back through the same door that I'd just come through. I stood there, waiting and taking in these frightening surroundings when, suddenly, my arm was grabbed and I was jerked back into the changing room.

"On your knees, girl," He almost screamed it. "You filthy slut, is this how you think you can leave your filthy slut mess?"

"W...w...what, Sir? I don't understand?"

He was pointing at my clothes on the bench but I didn't understand what I had done wrong. He gave me this big hairy lecture about how clothes are a privilege and that it took a Master's hard earned money to keep me in clothes and that they were always to be folded neatly when I wasn't wearing them.

"You will be punished for this and for raising your eyes to me and for speaking. You just earned yourself three lashes of my belt. Now you crawl back out there and you do it NOW!"

I started crawling fast as I could back out the door. Master James followed me, nudging me to go faster with the toe of his boot. He directed me to a small padded bench that was just a foot tall. He told me to lay over it face down and spread my legs. I could already feel the tears on my face as I lay over the bench. With his boot he kept kicking side to side between my legs until they were wide open. I laid there; shaking....trying to hold in the sobs...waiting for what would happen next. I heard him unbuckling his belt and heard it slipping out of the belt loops of his jeans.....for a moment my mind just went blank.

"Tell me why you are being punished.....Answer me, girl! That's one extra lash for the delay."

"Um...b...because I didn't fold my clothes....." I finally stammered out an answer, half crying, "and um..... because I looked at you... and because I spoke without asking permission."

"At least you're not stupid. There may be hope for you." He said. "Each and every time that you're punished, you will count every swat out loud and thank the Master that sees fit to correct you. Then you must ask for the next swat. Understand, girl? If you hesitate in the least or forget then the punishment starts from the beginning again."

Before I could even respond he brought the belt down hard over my ass.

"One.....aghhhh, Master James, thank you. Pleeaasse may I have another?"

Oh my god, the next one hurt even worse. It was on the back of my thighs and...the sting....the pain, took my breath away.

"Twooooooo.....thank You, Master James, aghhhh pleaseee may I have another?"

By the time I'd taken all four my whole ass was red and on fire and I had that one huge welt on the backs of my thighs. I was ashamed to be crying but I couldn't help it. I wanted to say I was sorry but was too afraid to speak. He told me to stand up and get over to that platform and present myself for inspection to him and I did. I hurried because he still had that belt in his hand. It was then that I noticed two other men standing off to one side watching and talking. One of them was a large black man. I couldn't hear what they were discussing and had only time for a quick glance. I couldn't risk being seen looking at them.

I dropped down to my knees as gently as I could....the muscles in my thighs and my ass were screaming. I tried to remember everything I had been taught about the presenting position.......knees spread apart the width of my shoulders, back straight with a slight arch, head held high, eyes lowered....chest thrusting out....and my palms upturned in a gesture of submission, one resting on the top of each thigh.....god so much to remember. The three of them started walking in slow circles around me. One of the new men was the first to speak.

"I am Master Michael and this is Master Robert." He said, gesturing to the huge black man at his side.

He bent down and took one of my nipple rings in his fingers. He lifted and twisted it, holding my breast suspended for a moment before letting it drop. At the same time Master James was behind me, running the palm of his hand down my back and then over the welts on my ass. Fingers slid down inside the crack of my ass and began circling, pressing into my anus.........no lube.....god it hurt and I whimpered. He told the others that my Dom wanted my hole to be used and kept filled.

"Damn shame. I love tight ass like that." Master Robert said.

"Too tight to be of any real use," Master James disagreed, "but we'll fix that."

Master Michael squatted down right in front of me and without any warning at all he slipped two thick fingers straight into my cunt. My body flinched and I didn't hold the position. He kept his fingers inside me, twisting and turning and fucking them in and out while the other two pulled me back into position. A stiff training collar was placed on my neck and they put leather cuffs on both my wrists, too. The cuffs were attached to rings on each side of the collar which pulled my shoulders back. Master Robert fastened small chains to my nipple rings and fastened them to the front of the collar.....they were too short and tugged my nipples up. Master Michael thrust his fingers deep into my cunt one last time and pulled them out and held them up right in front of my face. They were slick and wet and I could smell my own sex on them. He wiped them off on my face.

"Clean my fingers."

I did. I licked them clean.

"Good girl."

I was actually happy when he patted me on the head.

"It's time you got your first taste of real discipline, girl. We will start every session with some kind of discipline." Master James said.

His voice was chatty, almost friendly, and his hand was stroking over my back and my ass. Right then I needed that and I had to fight to keep from swaying back to his hand. He explained that this wasn't punishment but that it wouldn't be pleasant and might even be painful. The purpose of discipline was to teach me my place. To remind me of just who I was and of whom the Master was. Discipline was given for Master's pleasure and for the submissive's as well. It gave the one seeking to please the opportunity to show how much she was willing to take and to endure to please. A Master often gave discipline for no other reason than that he could. It was an exercise in power, of giving and taking. It was also an opportunity to mark the submissive if that was the Master's desire.

All this I was told as Master Michael and Master Robert were lifting me up to my feet. I was guided slowly forward while Master James talked, until I was face to face with the huge St. Andrew's cross.

They uncuffed each of my wrists and stretched my arms wide to the side at shoulder height and then they were fastened again to the cross. Master Robert put ankle cuffs on me and I was ordered to spread my feet wide apart. There were large eye bolts in the floor that they fastened the cuffs to. I was helpless and naked and scared half to death. The thought ran through my head they could kill me. They could do anything they wished to me. I was at their mercy and I started crying again silently. The tears were streaming and I couldn't stop them. I was shaking so badly that the vibration caused the cuffs to rattle where they were clipped to the cross. The three men stepped back and Master James said,

"Slut, prepare yourself for your discipline."

Someone stepped up behind me again. I couldn't see who but I felt a strong body pressing tight to me. A hand lifted my hair up off my neck and I felt warm breath, soft lips on the back of my neck at the top of the collar. More kisses and licks were followed by a gentle biting at the base of my neck and along my shoulders. The hand followed my spine down to my ass and traced the pattern of welts that still burned. The mouth returned to the base of my left ear lobe and teased and I knew it was Master Michael when I heard the voice in my ear.

"Don't be afraid, little one. Trust me and let yourself come with me. I'm going to take you someplace that you've never been." He whispered. "Take what I'm going to give you. Find pleasure in it. It's my gift to you. Remember, trust me."

He stepped back. I whimpered and felt the loss when his heat... his mouth... his hands left my body. I was ashamed that I could feel the warm flow of my need oozing from my cunt and felt a tightening deep in my belly. I was embarrassed at the heat within me and hoped they would not notice.

My eyes were squeezed tightly shut and my body tensed as I waited for the first strike. Instead I felt the softest touch and the most exquisite stroking. It was Master Michael with what I found out later was a kind of flogger called a rabbit tail. It caressed down my back and out over each stretched out arm. It ran down my legs to my ankles and up the insides of my thighs. It teased my cunt and continued up through my tight ass crack. The stroking and the teasing went on forever. In random patterns, the sensation traveled over my body.

Here and then there, until I drifted into a state of total relaxation. Craving the touch, I found myself making little whimpering sounds of pleasure. I was surprised that those sounds were coming from me and that none of the Masters seemed to mind. By then, each time the flogger was trailed up between my legs, it came away wet with the juices its touch was exciting from me.

The touch changed to light taps. Little, light stinging taps in all those same places. On my arms, my shoulders and back. On my burning ass and my thighs and down my legs. My body was enveloped in warmth as the flogger's sharp kisses reddened me. Warm, so warm! I found that I was moaning.

"Yessssssss. Ohhhh, yessssssss."

My body was moving, straining at its bonds as to reach the sweet, stinging heat. My knees had become so weak that it was hard to stand up. My fingers curled over the cuffs as the nature of the flogger's touch again changed. The taps became definite lashes. I could feel thin suede leather straps then. There was a rhythm to it and as each lash burned into me an incredible heat was generated. I wanted more of it.

He gave it to me. At the last it was real pain. The leather kisses had become fiery. Each one burned deep into my muscles. I was red hot all over. I was burning alive. I was so deep inside myself that I was there and yet I wasn't. I was filled with Master Michael and the power of his astonishing hot touch. I wanted it to go on forever... until there was nothing left of me.

Gentle hands released me and strong arms held me up. Master Robert and Master James carried me to a narrow padded table. Kind words, nice words flowed into my ears.

"Good girl, good slut."

There were soft touches and stroking hands caressing my hair. Master Robert held a glass to my lips.