In Trouble

i kneel, meditating, clearing my head, losing the work day, the car trouble, the angst over the lost time in the afternoon. i concentrate on the music, smooth, ethereal, familiar, pulling me right where i want to be, ready to serve, ready to listen, ready to obey... ready, unfortunately, to receive the punishment that i know i have coming to me.

i've been dreading this since Saturday and the supreme fuck up. To be true to my dual nature and honest about my feelings, there is definitely a part of me that is thrilled that i will be receiving a comeuppance, and then there's the part of me that can't believe that i chose to do something so blatant and foolish.

i clear that from my mind as well, knowing that Master will be dealing with it momentarily, and that judging myself is just as much against the rules as everything else i've fucked up this week, earning the gigantic number of 125 demerits when normally i have no more than 5 or 10.

Master is standing in front of me, leaning against the massage table while i go through these internal hoops. Even with my eyes closed, i can feel him there, heat radiating off of him, his scent, comforting and safe even in the trouble that i'm currently facing. i know that no matter how much trouble i'm in, he's not going to hurt me, not really, not more than i want or deserve, and above all, he won't lose his temper, won't go crazy, won't damage my self-esteem or sense of self. Even in trouble, i have nothing 'real' to fear.

i kneel up to stretch out my lower back and then kneel back down to wait on his pleasure. He smiles at the sight of me, and i am slightly comforted.

"On your best behavior, are you?" he asks me.

"i've been trying all week, Master," i say, even as i realize that although i have been trying very hard to concentrate on our relationship this week, i have not been particularly well-behaved. He smiles at me and then motions for me to come toward him.

"Put my cock in your mouth," he says. i reach toward him to do as he commands and he stops me.

"Beg for it," he whispers.

i flush and hide my face on his naked thigh. Begging is not my forte. i don't do it often nor particularly well. i'm never entirely certain what to say or what forms to follow, so i often stumble. In addition, begging has never gotten me anything, at least not before i was a slave, so i haven't much practice. It's not so much that i'm proud, but more that i don't know what to do. i'm frozen with indecision, fumbling through my mind for things to say.

"I'm waiting."

"i know," i whisper, then take a deep breath and plunge in, just letting the words flow from my mouth without thinking about them. "Please let me suck your cock, Master. i really want it. i want to taste you. Please, Master? Please?"

"Keep going," comes the command from on high.

"Please, Master, please. i love your cock and i want to feel you in my mouth. Please?" Running out of new things to say, i begin to kiss his upper thighs in obeisance.

"Kiss my feet, slut," he orders. i obey, quickly dropping to the floor, happy to have direction, and begin kissing the tops of his feet and toes frantically. "Keep begging," he prompts me.

"Please, Master, please let me suck your cock," i continue on in this fashion, not knowing what to add, as i smother his feet with tiny kisses.

"Enough," he says, and i return to kneeling and continue begging as i kiss around and near his cock, repeating my pleas to be allowed to have him in my mouth. At last, he grabs the back of my hair and pulls my head away from his thighs. "Open your mouth."

i open eagerly and he shoves his cock hard into my mouth. i close my mouth over his cock, licking and sucking on it, moving my head back and forth and side to side to increase his pleasure. i lose myself in the motion, in the feeling. i adore sucking his cock, his pleasure is mine, and i do not keep track of how long my mouth is locked over him. He is made for this, i am made for this.

Until he pushes me away. "Stand up," he orders me. i obey, facing the massage table and the wall behind it. i hear him moving behind me, but do not move. "125," he mutters, "what am i going to do about this?"

i shudder internally and flush externally. i try not to show him my reaction. Nothing i do at this point is going to help, excuses won't excuse me, begging won't get me out of it. i wait.

He straps the manacles onto my wrists and the cuffs onto my ankles. "Lay down on the table," he says harshly. i obey, knowing i'm allowed to lay down only because of the trouble i'm having with my back and joints thanks to my thrice-damned rheumatoid arthritis. He hooks together my legs and binds them to the massage table, effectively preventing my from kicking or blocking with my legs. This is a bad sign. Normally he can count on me to not do that, and i know i'm really in for it if he feels the need to physically prevent me from kicking.

"You're in a lot of trouble, young lady," he says to me.

"Yes, Master," i respond, shivering.

"I know that I said that the reason for the demerits would not matter come QT night, but i think this is a special case considering how you earned that last hundred."

Foolishly, i respond, "i remember why i got all of them."

"Why don't you tell me why that is, then," he says, moving away from me for the moment.

"i got 10 for masturbating without permission. i got 15 for putting myself down. i got 100 for disobeying you when you told me to stop drinking at the party."

"Mmm," he says, dropping my slave contract in front of me. My tension mounts. Glancing at it, i see that several rules right away that i don't necessarily obey on a daily basis. "Read number 3."

i begin to read, "The slave's mind, heart, body, and time belong solely to the Master," and SMACK, the silver backed hairbrush comes down hard on my ass. i gasp, but keep going. "The Master will determine if others can have use of her body and what use they may put it to," SMACK, again. Over and over, every few words, the silver backed hairbrush comes down, on both cheeks and up and down my thighs. i gasp and cry out as it lands, but continue to read until i reach the end.

"Again," he orders.

"Please, Master," i whisper.

He is unmoved. "Again."

And so, again i read it, and again he spanks me over and over, more and more often with the hairbrush until i am gasping with pain as i finish the paragraph.

"What does that mean?" he asks me. i draw a blank. i know what it means, but i don't know what he's getting at. He smacks me with the brush again and answers for me. "If others can have use of her body and what use they may put it to," he says, "means you too. You may not touch yourself unless I give you permission. Is that clear to you now?" He slams the brush onto my thighs, once, twice, three times.

"Yes, Master!" i cry out, the sharp stinging pain overwhelming me.

"Good," he states. "This sopping wt pussy is mine, you do not touch it unless I say you can." He slips his hand between my legs and slides his fingers into my pussy, thrusting back and forth until i'm moaning against him. He gets onto the table with me and slides his cock between my thighs thrusting against me and into me and driving my arousal up and up.

And then he's gone and my brain is fuzzed by lust, but not for long. A new implement comes crashing down on my ass and up and down my thighs. i squirm and cry out. It's a thin, wide strip of metal and it stings like hell! The lust is driven from my mind, replaced by shock and pain.

"How long have we had the rule against you putting yourself down?" he demands, barely slowing the strikes.

"Forever, Master" i cry out.

"Since we started this relationship, isn't it? And yet still you persist."

"i'm sorry! Please, Master! Please!" i'm panting now.

"You do not put yourself down. You will respect yourself. You are my prize possession and you will respect that. You will take care of yourself and treat yourself right, and you will not insult or deride yourself," he states, punctuating each statement with a smack of the metal strip.

"Yes, Master. Yes!" i squirm and swerve, knowing i can't avoid him, but not able to keep still, the sting in my ass and on my tender thighs growing. i panic as he moves closer and closer to the back of my knees, the tender skin screaming against the stinging smacks. "Please, Master!"

He reverses direction, coming back up my thighs toward my ass, a relief and a torment for the already punished skin that he is going back over. He drops the strip and spanks me a few times with his bare hand, easing the sting somewhat. i collapse against the massage table, breathing heavily.

"And now, we are at the big one. What would you say that all three of these incidences had in common?"

"Disobedience," i whisper in to my arms.

"Disobedience. The number one rule on the list and the heart of the problem. All those additional rules on that list that we don't really pay attention to on a daily basis. We ignore them because they all come right down to obedience. 125 demerits. More than you've ever gotten. You've been testing me, and I mean to see that you stop. At this point there will be no more reading from your contract, no more fucking you after I spank you. I'm serious now. You will obey me."

i cover my face with my hands. "Please, Master," i whisper.

"There is no please left. You will learn this lesson." He grabs my hair and pushes me down onto the massage table, me head turned to the side so that i can breathe. And the hard oak paddle with all the holes crashes onto my ass. i shriek.

"Please!" i cry. But he says nothing, just covers my ass with smacks from that horrible paddle.

"This is no game. This time you're going to cry, and then you're going to obey, because I won't put up with anything else." Again and again it falls, and i try to to breathe, but the pain is too much, it's too hard. He holds me down against the table by my hair and i don't struggle, i don't fight, but i can't stay there, i can't take it. i can't find my breath

"Please, Master, please. One second to breathe, please!"

He releases my hair and lets me up a little, and i catch my breath. But then he's holding me down again and spanking over and over and over, and i can't think and i can't see through my hair. i only feel the paddle and his hand in my hair and hear his voice.

"I don't care how much you've had to drink or how much you think you can drink. You will stop when I say stop. It doesn't matter who brings what alcohol to you. If I say no, you will not drink it. I can't believe that you continued to drink, flaunting your disobedience and disrespect to a party full of people who heard me tell you to stop. That is unacceptable, and it will never happen again. Do you understand me? Never again!"

"Yes, Master," i gasped out raggedly.

"Louder."

"Yes, Master!"

"Louder."

"YES, MASTER!" i almost shouted.

"How do you think that made me look to everyone, huh?"

Oh no. i almost stop feeling what he is doing as that realization washes over me. One of my most sacred goals is to always be respectful in public, to raise him up, to make other people see how wonderful he is, and i had completely and utterly failed. i begin to cry.

He doesn't stop, continuing to coat my ass and thighs with smacks from that horrid paddle that will never break, no matter how much i want it to, until he is satisfied. Then he unhooks my legs from the table and each other. i calm down some.

"Get on your knees." i obey, getting off of the table with his help. "Get in the corner. Crawl."

i do, looking into the corner, ashamed and penitent. He brushes aside my hair from my back and begins to flog me, the flogger striking the same places on my upper back over and over. i begin to sob, whispering "please, Master, please stop" but i don't think he hears me and it probably wouldn't matter if he could. My shoulders shake with my sobs. He does stop and slides my hair back over my back. He lets me sit there for a few moments.

"Come here," he orders me. i turn and crawl to where he is. "Down." On my knees, i lower the front of my body down, hiding my face.

"Does your back hurt in that position?"

"No, Master," i say.

"Good." He moves behind me and just starts fucking me. i'm shocked at first, not believing that i could have been that wet after all that, but apparently...

He fucks me for a long while and then orders me to rub my clit. i obey and after a few more moments, i say, "i think i'm going to need a vibrator, Master,"

"No you won't," he says.

"Oh," i say, concluding that there will be no orgasm for me tonight. But, he told me to rub myself, so i continue, getting hornier, even though i know that my hand is not going to work tonight.

And then he pulls out of me and cums all over my back. A shot of desire ignites me. He orders me to my feet, and then leads me into the bathroom to clean us both up.

"Go to bed," he tells me. i obey, still manacled and cuffed, and he joins me there.

"Spread your legs." i do and he rubs me, his touch working where mine would not, until i'm gasping.

"Please, Master, please let me cum?" He slows his touch.

"No. You owe me one, and I always collect on my debts." He stops, gently withdrawing his hand from between my legs.

"But, Master..."

He just looks at me and I subside. He lets me rest a moment and then starts again. Oh... no...

"Master, please, please let me cum? Please?"

He smiles at me. "No." And then he stops and lays back on his side of the bed, directing me to curl against him.

"Go to sleep," he tells me, smiling at me.

i lay there and think about what we did and what he said, my hand rubbing lightly on his chest.

"i'm sorry, Master, about the drinking thing. i didn't even think about how it would look to other people. i'm really sorry."

He kisses the top of my head. "It's fine now. Your slate is washed clean. All is forgiven."

"Thank you, Master," i say. "i just wanted to let you know that i hadn't thought about that aspect and i'm sorry."

He hugs me and i fall asleep wrapped against him.