7 Stages of Grief

That Thursday evening I was so scared. My Master told me that I was not allowed to go out but I was tingling to defy as my friends lured me into an afternoon of shopping. I delighted in frolicking around town with them till sunset, trying to subdue the butterfly panic in my stomach that reminded me of his impending wrath at my disobedience. As I arrived back home at the gate my pace slowed to a crawl as I made my way up the stairs and onto the front door.

As I opened the door I was greeted by my Master, sitting on the couch. He was not doing anything in particular, the TV was off. He just seemed to be deep in thought. As he saw me he flashed a broad smile which stopped me in my tracks, I didn't know how to react. I mustered up a smile and walked towards him, planting a kiss on his cheek. He sat there for a while after, long after I had left him there, made him dinner, had a bath and retired to bed. When he joined me he seemed so normal, not angry at all, not making mention of my transgression.

"Mouthfuck." As he stood at the edge of the bed, gripped my hair and slammed my throat into his cock as far as he could, the night ended with three voluminous strands of his thick white semen flooding my mouth and escaping slightly at the corners, only to be captured by a willing tongue to savour every bit of the restrained queen's meal.

Friday morning came and I remembered that he had some work to do, so I woke up to make him breakfast. It was 8am. My feet hardly touched the ground from the bed when he spoke. "Have a bath but do not empty your bladder." I obliged, taking a quick shower even though my bladder was bursting. When the water hit my skin I felt some hot piss trickle out, and saw the intense yellow fluid mix with the bath water so that by the time it reached the tile there was no evidence of escape.

I switched off the tap and stepped out of the bathroom, only to see him standing in front of me. I was so startled that I jumped and let out a brief scream, by which time he had already grabbed a handful of my hair. Not a skilful neat wrap around his wrist but a wild lunge. My own strands assaulted me being pulled from the scalp that I misbalanced and slipped on the watery floor. My body buckled to the floor but he maintained his hold on my tangled mane. I was half standing as he dragged me from the bathroom, through the bedroom, to the kitchen, to the small washing area at the back, that leads to the private backyard. By the time I arrived my destination I had been mostly on my knees, they were bashed and weak with friction from rough tiles.

I hated that room. It was clean enough to a normal individual but to me it was skin crawling- small, darkish, hot and damp with a washing machine and a basket of dirty laundry. Sometimes the occasional insect would fly in from the backyard.

He led me to the dark corner, where there was a piece of iron jutting out overhead, created to be a support for a hanging potted plant. I stood directly under it in my nakedness. "Hands up and legs apart." I was already going crazy at being in the dark corner of the room, let alone being there exposed to the elements. I wanted to scream but I raised my hands above as tears poured down my face and my eyes reddened. He grabbed hold of them and I felt the thin clear tie straps being looped around my clasped wrists. I heard the teeth gritting zipping sound as they were being pulled shut, and it didn't stop until they were so tight that they almost cut off my circulation. He then cuffed the straps to the metal support so that my hands were stretched was too far above my head.

He stooped in front of me, and was eye level to my cunt. I almost thought I saw a smirk as I looked at the back of his head. He roughly spread my cunt lips with his fingers and grabbed hold of my clit with such force that I winced. Then I saw it emerge, the small clear suction cup with a white head to turn. It looked like a baking utensil. He carefully enveloped my brown clit in it and I saw his hands make a screwing motion as I felt my clit being vacuum sealed, along with a pulling, stretching sensation. It was painful and I groaned. He paused momentarily to look at it, maybe to ensure that it was secure. Then he slapped my ankle as if to say bring them together, which I did, and he strapped them close with tie straps.

I wanted to ask, I wanted to know how long I would be in this position. But the words stuck in my throat. He stood up and looked down on me, surveying my face and body. Then he leaned close to my ear and whispered. "Let's see if you go out today."

He left, and I was left to my solitude. A million things went through my mind. As I stood splayed out vertically I wondered how long he would be gone for. I wondered if I could stand the heat in the room. I wondered if an insect landed on me what would I do. I wondered if the straps would cut into my skin. I wondered if my clit would rupture from the pressure. I knew my Master would punish me but I doubted that he would leave me for long in this space and condition. I was in denial.

Maybe two or three hours passed, I wasn't sure. I was also holding in my pee too, which caused a terrible ache in my lower stomach. I didn't want to let it go here and create a more sordid mess. I became enraged with my punishment. The heat was growing more intense as I felt my face beaded with sweat. My clit was also numb, I felt no sensation in that region. How long before he returned? I was so angry that I shook my hands and feet violently but the straps only press more into my skin until I was sure that they would cut right through. I screamed as I writhed to free myself but it was in vain.

I soon calmed down because the pain on my hands and feet was too intense. My head was also pounding because I was hungry and the heat was drying my mouth. I bargained my position, and I realised that it made no sense being angry. I also had no idea when he was coming back, so I decided to pee, and the yellow fluid came gushing out almost burning my legs, escaping their hot cunt oven. The smell assaulted my nostrils and made me gag, adding to my hatred of the place. I wished that the tight device on my clit would slip off with the moisture but it didn't. But I felt so much relief that a calm came over me. I bargained with myself to remain calm and await his return, it didn't make sense to struggle.

More hours passed as I tried to remain optimistic. My body clock told me it was way past lunch as my stomach growled and I wet my mouth with my own saliva. I began to feel forlorn, and I began to cry. My hands and feet were turning purple from blood loss. Why would he do such a cruel thing to me? I cried maybe for two hours or so, I imagined. I cried until my eyes were puffy and I could not open them without pain. It was more torture to not be able to wipe them away and let them slowly stream to my chest. I thought of all the animals that go through such confinement, in circuses and ruthless homes, cases that always made me cry. I myself was a restrained animal.

More hours passed as I stood there in true fashion of what I was, the restrained queen. A physically restrained woman, a queen in being disgusting in herself and her surroundings. My body was drained, exhausted of all fight. I gave up and let all go limp, and I don't remember when I blacked out, but my last thought was that I had begged my own punishment by disobeying, not so?

The only flashes I remember were my Master's face cutting me down from the support with almost a smile, water hitting my body, tasting vanilla milk against a darkened sky.

I woke up in a flurry and panic overtook me. I gazed around the bedroom- no Master. But through the walls I heard laughter and voices outside and smelled food. I looked around to find my bearings. I looked at my phone, it was Sunday afternoon. I had slept through Saturday. I looked at my wrists and ankles, they were marred with dark black and blue marks from where the ties were. At the foot of the bed I saw my outfit laid out- a long sleeved black knitted top and long white pants. That was his way of saying that I was expected to get dressed and join them.

I shuffled off the bed and towards the bathroom but my limbs were weak. As I sat on the toilet bowl and pissed my clit winced, it was swollen and painful as the urine glazed over it. I mustered up strength and got ready, ensuring that my marks of violence were covered and my puffy eyes looked happy.

As I emerged onto the lawn I was greeted by smiling faces. Friends over for a BBQ and cocktails, and they all asked me in unison if I was feeling better, they heard I was feeling under the weather and made baby jokes. I flashed a winning smile and said yes, I had lots of rest. I was shy of all a sudden, I didn't know how to look my Master in the eye. I eventually did as I realised his bright blue eyes never left me since I came, they were piercing into me. I read him as his eyes screamed approval, "Good girl." One of our friends motioned for me to sit next to her and catch up which I obliged. As I sat Master soon presented me with a cocktail and a plate of delicious food- BBQ chicken legs and sausages, potatoes and various grilled veggies. I was sooo hungry...but I knew I had to keep my graces. I ate and once my sleeve shifted just a little exposing a mark and I saw my friend's confused gaze linger on my hand. I quickly pulled it down with casual ease and I saw my Master smile at me out of the corner of my eye.

The evening went on with light hearted chatter, good food, good drinks. Master came and sat next to me at one point, close enough to wrap his arm around me, make playful circles on my shoulder, kiss my hair. I felt safe in his arms but a sadness never left me.

Everyone left and he instructed me to go back to bed as he cleaned up. I lay there and I tried to be brave and not bombard him with a million questions of why he did what he did.

He entered the bedroom and sat on the lone chair in the room. He rolled a cigar. "On your back. Spread." I was sad and tired, but I still wanted to please him. I shuffled to the edge of the bed and as I spread eagled in front of him I soon felt his fingers being shoved into me to retrieve cock lube to seal his smoke. He grunted in approval when he felt how wet and dripping I was for him. He lit it, and smoked for an hour as he surveyed my body, the trails of abuse and the overstimulated clit. I turned my head to the side and cried silently as he smiled.

I mumbled. "Why did you do it Master?" I did not look him in the eye. He lunged off the chair and grabbed my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. "Because you deserved it, and after all what does it matter? Look at how wet you are for your Master. You could hardly control yourself. Now tell me what you really want."

I fought the hot tears back as I shamelessly muttered. "I want you to fuck me Master, please."

"Louder, you disgusting slut."

"Please fuck me, Master, I want you to fuck me." My voice broke.

He unbuckled his jeans and his delicious thick cock sprung out. Veiny, angry and filled with hot blood he press the head on the entrance of my ready cunt. I screamed as its hardness slammed my hurt clit and soon filled me up and stretched me to my breaking point. He began his ruthless pounding and I wrap my legs around him and groaned.