Ch 3: The Flame Within

"People were trying to control me all day," Rachele said.

"Not like that," Chloe said. "Not him. Not someone who cares about you more than anything else in the world."

"He does," she said slowly.

"Of course he does," Chloe said. "And the best way to care for you right then might have been to slap your face and push you down and make you hurt until you could think of nothing else."

Rachele imagined that. How would she have felt, forced to her knees with her face burning and reddening? It was making her aroused now, but at the time, would it have made it angrier, or would it have broken her rage and felt like a relief?

"I don't know if I would have allowed it," she said. "I might have fought back."

"Honey, how many times have you told me it's not your decision? Scolded me when I don't acknowledge that you're his slave?"

"I thought you hated that?" Rachele said.

"I don't always understand it," Chloe said. "But I am really starting to see the point of it now. It's turning me on, in fact."

"Me too," Rachele said.

"Being slapped?"

She nodded.

"Honestly, I felt like doing it myself a few times today," Chloe grinned.

Rachele smiled, but she was thinking about Robert handling her like that.

"It's not the slapping," she said at last. "It's being forced to remember what I am."

"What you are," Chloe said. "What you are right now."

Rachele looked at her.

"That's right," Chloe said firmly. "Say it."

"I'm his slave."

"And?"

"I disobeyed."

"And?"

"It wasn't right. It wasn't good for me."

"Did you know that at the time?"

"No," Rachele said. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

Chloe looked at her, making a go-on gesture.

"It's not up to me," Rachele said. "You want me to say that?"

"Is it true?" Chloe asked.

"It is," Rachele said. "But you want it to be up to him what's good for me?"

"It's about what is, not what I want, first of all," Chloe said. "And second of all, honestly, Rachele, I think he knows. I think he knew last night but maybe he was worried you wouldn't understand in time. That makes me trust him a hell of a lot more. Because I don't think I would have had that much self-control."

"You would have hit me?" Rachele asked.

"You deserved it, sweetie," she said. "Sorry babe, but when you blew me off like that and then wouldn't even let me in?"

"I'm sorry, Chloe," Rachele said.

"I know, but that's not the point. You needed it, and he's the one who could do it."

"I can't believe you're saying that."

"I'm not saying he should have whipped you bloody, which is my first thought," Chloe said with a smile.

"Chloe!"

"Kidding, kinda," Chloe said. "But only because it would have been overdoing it. A spanking would feel different to you than it would for me."

"Yeah it's not foreplay for me," Rachele said.

"Oh I'm quite sure you wouldn't have mistaken it for foreplay."

"I'm getting wet thinking about it, I have to tell you," Rachele said.

"It's turning me on too, and it probably would have turned him on," Chloe said. "But that would not have been the point. Not at all."

Rachele leaned in to kiss her, and Chloe responded, slipping her hand into Rachele's robe as it fell open and pulling her close, but then she broke the kiss.

"I would love to take you to bed," she said. "But it's getting late and you have something you need to do."

"Seriously, Chloe?" her friend exclaimed. "You're telling me to have sex with Robert instead of with you?"

"I didn't say anything about sex," Chloe said. "You need to apologize to him. The sex, well, that'll be up to him."

Rachele pulled her close. "You're so good to me," she said. "Thank you."

"I love you," Chloe said. "And he does too. And if you'd obeyed him, we'd have had nice day at the museum together."

"I'm really sorry," her friend said.

"Thank you," Chloe said. "But you should be saying that to him. Probably on your knees."

3: Smoldering

When the elevator opened he was standing there waiting, and she stepped into his open arms. He kissed the top of her head and held her without saying anything, and then she removed the light coat she was wearing. Underneath she wore a pale blue sundress and, it was immediately evident, nothing else.

She dropped to her knees in front of him. "I'm sorry, Master," she said, her face in his crotch. She wasn't under attack. She wasn't fighting to maintain her position. She was secure in this position, on her knees, as his property.

"I'm sorry you had such an awful day yesterday," he said. "What are you sorry for?"

"I should have obeyed," she said. "I shouldn't have come in like that. I should have knelt when you told me to."

"You didn't want to kneel," he said. "I knew that."

"Yes, Master," she said. "But it would have been better if I had."

"What are you?"

"I'm your slave, Sir," she said. "I belong to you. I obey you." She was grateful that even though he hadn't formalized it, he no longer corrected her when she used that word.

"And what am I?" he asked.

"You're my owner," she said. "You take care of me. You don't make me smaller. I am safe with you."

"You're right to be angry about what happened yesterday," he said. "You have my support, always, whenever you need it. But I expect your service, always, no matter what. You leave the rest aside when I summon you, and you follow your rules."

Her breathing was slowing. She was protected, she was safe, she would figure this out, she could strategize with him, or work all day tomorrow if she needed to. But this was right. She needed to let go and obey him; the rest was secondary. She should be feeling his ownership and care.

"You have my service, Master," she said. "I don't like being so angry that I forget my place."

"That's better," he said. "Do you understand and accept that you will be punished?"

She thought about what Chloe had said. "Yes, Master."

"Answer properly," he said.

"Yes, Master, I understand that I will be punished and I accept my punishment, whatever you decide it to be."

Still on her knees, she unbuttoned her dress down the front and let it fall around her.

"May I?" she asked, her mouth nuzzling the outline of his cock. She felt good, naked on her knees for him.

"You may not," he said. "Crawl to the couch and wait for me."

She dropped to all fours and crawled across the expansive apartment to the couch, put her hands together and rested her forehead on them. Prostrated, she waited.

--

She heard his footsteps returning. He stood over her.

"Arms out straight," he said. She complied, resting her face on the floor as he buckled the leather cuffs around her wrists and locked them together. His hand in her hair raised her to her knees, and then he supported her and brought her to her feet.

He tightened his grip on her hair, making her eyes water, turned her as he sat down on the couch, then pulled her to lie over his lap. He attached the cuffs to something that he then pulled tight.

She lay, her arms extended, her face down, and her ass presented to him. This position was much more abjectly humiliating than anything that had happened at work, but here she was humiliating herself as a form of service to her owner, who valued her independence and her intelligence, and supported her. It calmed her to offer it all up to him like this, to give him her power and her voice, knowing that he would take care of it, take care of her.

"Do you understand what's going to happen now?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," she said into the couch. "You are going to punish your slave for misbehaving and forgetting her place." She took deep breaths, letting go her control of herself, preparing herself.

"That's right," he said. "You'll get twelve. I expect you to remain still. If I have to stop and restrain your legs you'll get punished more."

"Yes, Master," she said, tensing herself involuntarily.

His hand caressed her ass, stroking her, relaxing her muscles. Then it descended, hard. She cried out. Sometimes when he spanked her he made her wait, or ask for each blow, or count, but not this time. This felt more serious, as did the number of blows, more than he'd ever given her.

Five more times his hand came down on her, alternating sides, each slap ringing off the walls. The few other times that he'd spanked her, he had distributed the blows, but not this time. Every one landed on the same spot, on the curve of her ass as it descended to her thigh. The focused pain hurt a lot. She was crying and then reflexively tried to twist away from the seventh blow. Both of his hands forced her back down. She was breathing hard and trembling, her ass reddening.

"I'm not done," he said. "That was six, so you're only half way, and you'll get two more for resisting."

"Yes, Master," she said, tensing herself.

He repositioned her ass, then squeezed it, accentuating the pain. She winced but held still. This was real punishment. The pain was now her focus, her offering, something she knew he would receive and value and treasure. Her pain tolerance wasn't high; being hurt did not turn her on the way it did her friend Chloe. But under his training she would learn to endure more, as part of her service and submission to him.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

She nodded, and the blows fell again, hard. He was not quite as fast this time, waiting a beat between each slap, as her ass quivered and the latest handprint showed. His palm was stinging by this point, but he could see the deeper red building on her ass at the point where he was focusing his blows.

She was crying nonstop now, and by the tenth blow was moaning "No, no, no more." He paused, but she did not use her safeword. The next two were harder, coming down in rapid succession, making her scream, and the final two came down just as hard, cutting off her cries and increasing them.

She shuddered as she tried to catch her breath. Tears were running down her cheeks and dripping from her nose. He stroked her ass, now bright red, as she cried, then just detached her cuffs, and gently turned her face to kiss her. He stroked her hair, rocking her, soothing her, and she said, "Thank you, Master," as her sobbing slowed down.

"Good girl," he said. "You must not forget your place. You must not forget what you are. And you must never forget what you have." Yesterday she had been battered by her work day, but today she was calmed by her owner's blows. She felt broken, not her spirit, but her shell, the protection that she didn't need here, that he had forcibly removed, in order to hold her real self. She was crying out her pain and her anger in his arms, no longer needing to keep her game face on, no need to control herself. She was controlled, she was owned, she was property.

"I know, Master, thank you," she said. "I was thinking about coming home to you all day yesterday. I'm sorry I couldn't let it go."

"Sometimes you can't," he said, "but then I'll take it from you." Not to dispossess her of it, but to ease the load.

"I know," she said, curling into him. "I know. I need it. I'm sorry I was bad."

"You weren't bad, you were upset," he said. "You needed to be taken in hand. You needed to let me take control. And here you are. And I love you."

His hand pushed her down to lay across his lap again. He stroked her ass, where bruises were forming in the center of the red. His other hand parted her legs and began stroking her lips gently, rubbing her clit, and finally entering her. She moaned and rocked her hips up towards him, and he played with her gently.

He lifted her by the shoulders then, until she was on her knees on the couch, then stood and turned her over onto her back. She spread her legs without being asked, putting one up along the back of the couch, lifting her hips to take pressure off her sore ass. He put a pillow under her lower back and raised her other leg with his hands.

She was splayed out for him, her wet cunt open, her red ass exposed. He stroked her, then leaned over and licked her cunt lips, and kept licking her, circling his tongue around her clit. His fingers penetrated her, then stroked and squeezed her ass, then went back into her, alternating between satisfying her need and making her ass hurt more.

She started to move more urgently, and he plunged his two middle fingers into her sopping cunt, then withdrew them and pushed them, not gently, into her ass. His thumb penetrated her cunt while his other fingers gripped the inside of her sore ass, and he lifted and twisted her with that hand as his tongue moved faster. She came in a shuddering scream, her ass burning, feeling the pressure of his thumb squeezing against his fingers, her clit melting.

He withdrew his fingers and pushed them deep into her mouth. She licked them clean, and he left her spread, returning a few minutes later. She couldn't see what he was holding until he put it to her lips -- the largest steel plug. She opened her lips and the cold steel filled her mouth, warming slowly as he put a towel under her, and started thoroughly lubing her ass. Several fingers went in and out of her, turning and stretching her anus as he squirted more lube into her. Finally, he removed the plug from her mouth, added more lube, and pushed it into her, slowly and carefully, not releasing the pressure until the thickest part slid through, making her gasp as her sphincter was forced open and then closed around it, pulling it all the way into her. It felt enormous, and left her ass throbbing inside and out.

She lay and read on her stomach for the rest of the evening, her owner admiring her reddened ass cheeks and the large jeweled head of the plug that distended them. His hand petted her head, and caressed her ass, feeling her muscles tense slightly in anticipation of the way he sometimes went from a caress to gripping her ass and accentuating the pain.

Later, they watched one of her favorite shows, her head in his lap. The well-known characters were a comfort, and she laughed at jokes she'd heard many times before. His hand stroked her ass and pressed the plug, penetrated her cunt a few times to heft the weight of the metal from inside her.

He led her to bed, where she prostrated herself and extended her arms. He removed the plug first, working it out of her ass slowly as she groaned in discomfort and anticipation, pulling and turning it until it came free, and putting it back into her mouth. Now it was warm, and she tasted lube and her own waste as he took her wrist cuffs off.

He slapped her ass -- lightly, but painfully -- and held his hand out. She let the heavy plug fall into his hands. "Brush your teeth and clean up," he said. The bed was turned down when she got back, and he was sitting in his boxers reading. She crawled into bed and between his legs, and waited. He put his book aside and freed his cock from his boxers. She opened her mouth and looked up at him, and at his nod, took him deeply into her mouth. She sucked him slowly and reverently, exactly the way he had trained her, and when he climaxed, raised her head and opened her mouth to show his come on her tongue.

"Would you like to swallow?" he asked.

She nodded and made wordless begging noises. "Good girl," he said. "Go ahead."

He lifted her head and turned her to lay next to him. Her head on his shoulder, his taste in her mouth, his marks on her ass, she fell asleep quickly, feeling encompassed by his control, knowing she'd have time to talk and strategize and vent tomorrow. The burning of her ass was warmth, reminding her of what and whose she was.

4: Heating

Her ass was still sore and visibly marked in the morning. She was able to sit at table for breakfast, but not comfortably. Not only was her ass still tender, the large steel plug was again in her ass. Her owner had told her she would have as much time as necessary today to strategize or talk through what had happened yesterday, but that he would continue training her ass, so she could expect to be plugged or otherwise used anally throughout the day.

The plug was large and heavy, and was a constant distracting presence inside her. When she was seated, it put pressure on her pussy, and with it she could masturbate simply by rocking back and forth in her seat; it was like a large and stationary Ben-Wa ball.

"Master, I need to do some work this morning," she said. "I'm not sure there's anything to really do about yesterday, but there will be fallout so I need to stay on top of email and write a few messages to get ahead of some of it."

"Do you want to talk any of it through?"

"Probably, but I'm more worried about staying ahead of the fallout."

"OK," he said. "Why don't you get that out of the way. I have some work to do as well."

"Master, may I ask that you remove the plug?" she asked. "It makes it hard to concentrate."

"I understand," he said. "I'll replace it with one of the silicone plugs. Go into the bedroom and present yourself."

She went to the bedroom, took off her robe, and got onto the bed on all fours, putting her face flat on the bed, extending her arms above her head, and raising her ass. She waited without raising her head, hearing her owner open the bedside drawer. He removed the silicone plug, black, with a large rectangular base that would lie between the cheeks of her ass. She raised her head and opened her mouth, and he pushed it between her lips. She put her face back down, holding it between her lips.

He knelt behind her on the bed, ran his hands over the bruises on her ass and slapped them lightly but sharply enough to make her gasp around the plug. Then she felt his fingers at her anus, getting purchase beneath the rim of the plug, and turning it within her ass he started to pull. She braced herself against the pressure, wincing as the widest part of the plug distended her sphincter. It felt like some of her insides were coming with it, but then the widest part passed and she shivered with the pleasure of her muscles expelling the rest of the plug, and the brief feel of air inside her as her anus stayed open.

Two of her master's fingers, already lubricated, held her open, and she felt more lube being squirted into her. She raised her head, and he took the silicone plug out of her mouth, immediately replacing it with the steel plug, still warm from her inside, tasting of lube and waste. She put her head back down, feeling its weight against her teeth as it filled her mouth.

The nose of the softer silicone plug replaced his fingers, and she tried to keep her muscles relaxed as it penetrated her. This one was not as wide as the metal plug, so it went in easier, but it was longer, so by the time the widest part slipped past her opening, it was deep inside her.

"I think I'm getting there, Master." she said. "The metal one must be thicker than you are."

"It is," he said. "And this one is closer to my length. But I don't plan to be tentative with your ass any more than I am with the rest of you. We'll work more on depth later today after you've gotten your work done."

"Yes sir," she said. "My ass is yours." She felt filled, but not as filled as she would be with his cock.

She put on a soft shirt and a pair of her customized sweat pants, with the crotch seam opened for his access, made herself a second cup of coffee and went into her office. As always she sat on a towel, to protect her office chair from the lube leaking from her ass, and from her wetness.

She worked in her office for most of the morning, writing but not sending several emails, going back and reading through long chat and email threads to make sure she had her facts straight. She contracted her ass around the plug, absent-mindedly stimulating herself. At one point she shifted position and sat on her heel, rocking back and forth, but stopped herself because there'd be time for masturbation later, plus she probably should ask for permission first.