This was it, I thought.
The first big test.
We'd been together a few months now, and her slutty submissive side was coming into full bloom, but her past programming was fighting back with a vengeance.
So, when everything went sideways this weekend, she slept with one of my suppliers.
She didn't come right out and say so, of course. First, she wallowed in guilt over "cheating on me" and then began fighting with me to work up a good head of steam for the, from her P.O.V., inevitable breakup. I cut her off at the pass by guessing the big guilty secret halfway into the drive home.
It got a little heated. We pulled off the rural highway at some county park. It was a picturesque setting to be having a relationship crisis. Heh.
It took a while to get it through her head.
I'm poly. I don't CARE if she wants to fuck other people. I do, however, want to be informed.
Even with that clearly on the table, she still wanted to fight.
I was losing my patience when it dawned on me.
The only way she could forgive HERSELF was if she felt she'd paid the price.
So, riding the anger of the fight, I decided the time had come to start what, in my more demented moments, I called "the next phase".
By this point I had a pretty good handle on the way she was wired, even if she hadn't really grokked it yet. For this idea to fly, to actually "absolve" her of her "crime", she needed to feel like what I was demanding was really punishment. OK, I resolved. I can do this.
"You need to be punished." I growled, interrupting her rant.
She looked at me through tear stained eyes, "What?"
"I see clearly now. The only way you'll let this go is if I make you pay for what you did. Am I right?"
A moment of hesitation, followed by an almost inaudible "yes".
"Yes... Master?" she tried.
"Ok, so this is how this is going to be. I'll punish you if that's what you need. Don't expect me to be nice about it either. You fucked up, lassie, and I know you'll keep on pushing unless someone's got a tight hand on your reins."
"OK" she mumbled, "What should I do?"
"Uh..." I stalled, thinking, "If you do what I tell you for three separate days, no questions, no fighting, we will call this cleared. I'll space the days out to let you recover," I leered at her,"and so you can anticipate what new horror's I might be dreaming up."
"Fine then, we'll call this day one, to cement the deal."
"What do you want me to do?" She inquired meekly, snuffling slightly.
"Blow your nose, then get out of the car." She followed my orders, and stood somewhat wretchedly by the side of the road, where less than an hour before she'd been threatening to storm off.
I rummaged in the back seat, going through our bags pulling out a few choice items.
"Step away from the car so you can be seen." I commanded. She did as I asked.
"Here!" I threw her a small black bundle. "Change into that. Right there."
She unrolled the ball and discovered it consisted of a garter belt, black fishnet thigh-highs, and her black fishnet tank top. She looked at me in a measure of shock... her exhibitionist tendencies, while strong, only really came to the surface when she was drunk. Shuddering, she unzipped her boots, stepped out of them, and reluctantly started peeling off her jeans.
"Put the boots back on when you're done, but you don't get to keep anything else you're wearing."
"What? What about my underwear?"
"It's all coming off. You don't get to wear anything associated with this weekend any more."
She changed quickly, like a diver at poolside, and then stood, trying to cover her more naked bits from casual observers.
"Nope, modesty isn't allowed while you're on my time. Here!" I tossed her a bottle of silicone lube. "Make sure you're well oiled, front and back. Make a show of it."
She caught the slim black bottle and squirted a good sized dollop onto her fingertips and began working into the folds of her cunt, blushing furiously.
She'd started in on her ass, hips cocked forwards, when a pickup truck full of farmers came by, slowing to get a good look, hooting and hollering at the sight of a statuesque amazonian redhead wearing nothing but skimpy fishnets and boots with her cheeks spread and two fingers in her ass.
Her face was crimson, so I opened the door and let her get back in.
We got back on the freeway, smoking in silence.
"So, was that my first punishment?" she asked.
"No, that was the warm up." I replied, enjoying the flinch.
We were pulling up beside a big rig now, so I reached behind the seat, fingers groping.
I slowed before matching with the cab. "Here." I growled.
She took my anodized black 6 d-cell mag-light, my "security light", from my hands.
"You want to be punished? Fine. Fuck yourself. With my flashlight. In your ass. If you come for the nice trucker I might let you stop."
She stared at me, slack-jawed, until I stared back, hard. "I'm serious."
Without a word, she reclined her seat, adjusted her legs up onto the dash, spread wide, and placed the mag-light against her lube-shiny asshole and tried to push.
"It won't go in!" she lamented, with a hint of relief creeping into her voice.
"Well then..." I replied... then leaned over, put my hand over hers, and with relentless pressure shoved the hard shaft into her with relentless and brutal force. She sobbed, then looked at me and, wordlessly, took the shaft under control and started working it in deeper."
I let her use more lube, waited till she got a good rhythm going, and then pulled up beside the cab of the truck.
I suspect he'd been kind of watching in his side mirror, because as soon as we pulled up she glanced upwards and moaned "Oh, Gods, he's looking right at me!"
As I'd guessed, once she had an audience, she fell into her groove, forgetting this was "punishment" in the flush of endorphins and adrenaline. She started bucking to get a better angle to thrust the flashlight in and out of her bumhole, and her right hand drifted to her shaved clit and stared rubbing.
Under our watchful eyes she soon worked herself up into a frenzy, ending in a screaming, back arching seat wetting, knee trembling orgasm.
The blast of the air-horn startled her back out of her post orgasmic reverie, and she flushed red again and looked over at me, somewhat lasciviously.
"How was that?"
"Well, you seemed to enjoy yourself quite a lot, which seems like a strange sort of punishment. Besides, I didn't give you permission to touch your clit. Don't think this is over yet."
The next hundred miles passed in a pleasant blur of frank sexual questions, occasional road head, and several more bouts of masturbation for the benefit of fellow travelers.
We were approaching home when she expressed the need to pee. I could piss myself, and figured we both could do with a drink, so I headed off the freeway at the rest stop just before we hit town.
For the sake of any possible cops, I let her put on a skirt. A very, very small skirt. She wobbled to the ladies room, trying to be very careful not to flash anymore than the third of her ass-cheeks the skirt already revealed, any hoping to brazen past anyone noticing that she was essentially topless.
I was already done and standing at the drink machine by the time she came back out, a evil plan forming in my head.
"OK, I'm just about done with today's punishment" I told her.
"Just about?" she parroted.
"I'm going to go find myself a nice spot to watch. You want proof that I don't mind you fucking someone else? We're not leaving 'til you proposition, blow and fuck someone coming out of the men's room"
"You heard me. If you want this over with quick, how about him..." I said, nodding to a biker in a mix of leathers and denims who had just sauntered into the men's room, giving her a sort of sideways, speculative glance.
I withdrew to a gazebo with a well shaded interior, but good sight lines through the masking latticework, and watched as she quickly hustled over to the tree shaded picking benches behind the men's room, half draped with willow branches and out of direct sight of the parking lot.
She sort of perched her ass on the edge of the table, glanced my way with an unreadable look on her face, then turned as her 'target' came out of the men's room.
I couldn't hear their words, but he seemed surprised until she leaned back, hiking up the short mini to reveal the garters and clean shaved cunt.He then sort of glanced around suspiciously, then closed the distance. I watched as she reached out to stroke the bulge in the front of his Levi's, then knelt and began working at the buttons while on her spread knees in front of him.
He shifted and lent a hand, and a rather large and very hard cock sprung forth.
I gazed on in amusement as she wrapped her right hand around the base of his cock and balls and started licking his head. I noted with additional humor that her left hand was creeping to her cunt, again.
She went from licking the head to long tongue strokes up his shaft, followed with abruptly diving head first onto his cock. When she pulled off to bend and take his balls in her mouth, one at a time, I saw the glisten of her ropy spit on his throbbing cockmeat. She returned to bobbing up and down, really working his cock down her throat till she pulled off quickly, breathless, releasing his base so he wouldn't cum too soon.
She arose, turned, and leaned over, causing the micro-miniskirt to ride right off her tanned arse. She spread her legs wide to give him a good angle and bent down to hold the edge of the table.
He was up her in a moment, really thrusting hard. She bucked back against him, warmed up by the hours of self abuse I'd ordered her through. He slammed her hard for barely a minute, then stiffened, clutching her hips.
"Oops," I thought,"I probably should've given her a condom."
He bucked against her, hard, twice, and held himself buried to the hilt as she bit her lip and convulsed against him. Then I saw her glace over my direction, smirk, and start to wiggle her hips. He seemed to revive with her gyrations and began sliding in and out with leisurely strokes. She began matching him until he reached up with one hand and grabbed her hair. He twined a good fistful in his hand and she froze like a deer in headlights, her moan reaching my ears even in my hiding spot.
I though I heard him laugh, then watched as he withdrew from her frothy cum filled cunt and rammed his cock home, hard in her butthole. She bit back a scream as he took things far beyond what I expect she'd intended. He forced her down, by the hair, till her fishnet wrapped tits were pressed up hard against the smooth concrete top of the table and really started grinding into her asshole, hard and deep. She squirmed and moaned, but before long her outrage was smothered under the raw animal fucking her ass was receiving, and she surrendered to the sensation, bucking back onto his big cock until she came with an unabashed scream that turned a few heads in the now not-quite-empty parking lot.
He zipped up and hurried away, while she lay across the table like a marionette with her strings cut, skirt around her waist and cum oozing from both prominently displayed holes.
I collected her, smoothed her skirt back to it's normal, almost covering position, and helped steady her wobbling feet as we got back in the car.
I handed her a bottle of Gatorade from the vending machine and gave her a pointed look. She blushed, averted her eyes and whispered...
"My biggest fantasies have always been about being raped..."
The 10 minute drive home was silent but for the sounds of our smoking, and the CD player.
"So, that was day one."
"Day two will be at the mall."
"I can't wait", she replied with a gleam in her eye.