Our FLR Journal - Entry 08

The day I returned from my business trip was awesome. Carrie was by the door when I arrived. We embraced, made out lightly and chatted for a bit. But she wasn't up for too much chatter.

"Ready?" She asked.

"For?" I replied, grinning.

Carrie walked over to the couch, lifted her skirt, slipped her panties off and laid down.

"Get naked, Paul," she said directly. "Fuck me, slow."

My cock sprang out from my briefs. It had been erect since the moment I walked in. I took position, one knee on the couch, and pressed my cock head to her wet slit.

"Very slow," she clarified, closing her eyes.

Working my cock inside her for several long seconds until it was buried to the hilt. Then back out until just the head remained in. Groaning so very lightly and smiling in my direction, her eyes still closed.

"Did you miss me?" She asked.

"Absolutely, I did," I replied enthusiastically. "You were hard to be away from."

"Hard, huh," she giggled. "How many times did you masturbate?"

"No, Carrie," I announce. "None, I wouldn't."

"None?" She said feigning surprise. "Why wouldn't you? It's not like I would know."

"I promise," I answered, insistently.

Carrie's eyes grew wide and then narrowed. "Paul, you have a tell when you're not completely honest. And I just saw it. Fess up, you masturbated, correct?"

I slowed my cock. Nearly stopping deep in her pussy as I looked for the words to say.

"I didn't tell you to slow down," she barked. "Answer me!"

"I wanted to," I stuttered. "I really did. I had my cock in my hand, but that was it."

Carrie's eyes shot open wide again. "There it is again. Your tell. Your eyes blink extra fast when you lie. Last chance to fess up."

"A tell?" I asked, buying time. "You've never mentioned that before."

"You did not answer my question!" She barked on. "Enough already. You're going to masturbate onto my stomach. After years together. I know how much cum is in those balls. I expect to see eight days worth of cum. Or, if you did masturbate while away, it will be easier if you just fess up now. Choose!"

She was right, I did masturbate. Twice actually. It never crossed my mind she'd figure that out. There is no way I want to disappoint her further than I probably already have. Do I chance it, masturbate, and hope that I produce enough cum to convince her I didn't? Or, admit my lie, and accept the consequences whatever those might be?

I pulled my cock out of her pussy, got on my knees and lowered my head. "Carrie I am sorry. Yes, I did masturbate. Twice. I don't know why I felt the need to lie."

"Get your face in my pussy," she ordered without any emotional response to my confession.

I brought my face to her pussy, began kissing and licking gently where my cock had just been.

"No," she said sternly. Taking a hand, she pressed my face in her pussy. "Suck it! Make me cum now."

Forced to suck her pussy, my tongue pressed hard to her clit. She kept her hand on the back of my head, guiding. More than guiding, she was using my face to rub her pussy and clit against until she came. There was no concern right now for my technique or passion in providing her an excellent blowjob. My face was just the stimulant to getting her off. It wasn't but a minute later that her groans grew and, her pussy became wetter and wetter.

"That's it, this better be..." she never finished what she was about to say.

Her hips and thighs, quivered. Her groans grew louder. Cum flooded my mouth. I sucked it in, she kept my face against her pussy throughout her orgasm.

She let out a great long, slow sigh when she was done, removing her hand from my head.

"You are so good at that, Paul." She said delightfully.

"Thank you," I said, plainly, my mind wondering what was next.

"Remember when we negotiated our FLR contract?" She asked, sitting up in the couch.

"Yes," I answered. "We discussed how FLR would best work for us and when done you had me put it in a contract."

"So you also remember you added a punishment clause, of sorts, even though I was opposed?"

"I do," my reply was plain but inside I was a mix of worry and excitement. Carrie saw dom-sub play and punishment as mostly kink, and she was insistent that our FLR not be based on having kinky sex but be all about me serving her however she leads.

"Well, it seems it was a necessary clause," her voice became more direct, boss like. "Honesty is the core bedrock of any marriage. You know that, and it has been so for many years for us. You chose to lie, Paul. You will be punished to reinforce honesty is not a choice. Obedience is not a choice."

Carrie stood, grabbed her phone from the nearby table, and scrolled.

"I've been checking out sites on rewards for subs," she asked, her face in her phone. "Looking for fun ways to help celebrate your release day. Perhaps adding a touch of kink which you desire the next time you've earned an orgasm. How many release points are you up to?"

"Nine," I answered. "Today would be nine."

She giggled sharply. "But you came while away. So now you are back to zero. But that's not your punishment. What do you think your punishment should be?"

I thought for a few long seconds. I replied with a list of extra chores, stuff that we infrequently do like defrost the freezer.

Laughing, she moved and sat back down. "That really is pathetic, Paul. You oddly enjoy doing chores, or being made to do them. Punishment are not to be enjoyed. Try again!"

Nothing came to mind, and I told her that.

"While searching for rewards many punishments kept appearing," she shared. "For now, it is almost 9 PM. I'll retire to bed and read these sites I've bookmarked before making a decision on your punishment. You are going to clean the entire house. I did not leave it super messy, so should should find time to sleep before the alarm goes off. When I wake up this place better be spotless. Tomorrow you will call in sick to work. Being a Vice President, nobody will miss you for a day while you endure your punishment. Go clean!"

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, she was silent. I tried to engage in minor chitchat about what we saw in the newspaper, but she did not engage.

"Silence," she spoke when she finished breakfast. "The first aspect of your punishment is you are not to talk today. Unless I ask you a question. Nod if you understand."

I nodded, yes.

"Good, after you clean up from breakfast, meet me in the dining room."

In the dining room, Carrie had covered the table with a blanket and upon it lay a 3-foot square piece of plywood. She got it from the garage, leftover from the floor I added to the attic. I watched as she opened a bag of rice and scattered rice onto the plywood.

"Recall when we negotiated our contract I said punishments will be severe to ensure they aren't desired?" Carrie asked with agitation in her voice. "Should I suspect you desire punishment our FLR is over. Nod if you recall."

I nodded, yes.

"Get up on the table," she instructed. "Kneel on the rice."

I did as I was told. The rice was not comfortable, the complete opposite. It felt as if it bit into my skin as my body weight pressed my knees against the hard grains of rice. Wincing, I got into a kneeling position.

"You'll be here most of the day," she explained. "I'd say get comfortable but you don't deserve comfort today. Hold out your right hand."

Carrie made a handcuff loop out of some jute rope, not sure where she got that. My wrist was secured snug in the loop.

"I'm tying the end of the rope to the table leg behind you," she continued her description my punishment.

With that done she walked around to the end of the table, facing me.

"Look at me," she commanded.

I had been looking down, now I looked her in the eye.

"With your left hand," she pointed. "Take your cock and masturbate."

I grabbed my cock, confusion obvious on my face.

"Faster!" She barked, placing a large bowl on the plywood in front of my cock. "Cum into the bowl as fast as you can."

My left hand awkwardly pulled on my cock which was hard but not fully erect. The pain from the rice, the inability to use my right arm, the whole experience hindered my erection.

"Come on Paul," she continued barking. "Do as you are told, like a good submissive. Focus on getting off, nothing else. Cum!"

I worked my cock, closed my eyes. Tried thinking of fucking her. But she continued barking making fantasizing impossible.

"If you don't cum soon I'll make this punishment more painful, Paul." She placed a hand on my head and tilted it back. "Do you want that?"

I nodded, no. Our eyes locked on each other. I could see she was not enjoying this. She never wanted to punish me. This in no way was erotic to her. Carrie had to step out of her comfort zone to adopt full time FLR and now this, she stepped further to fulfill her role as my dominant.

Her cold eyes, while still gorgeous, softened as I suddenly moaned and came into the bowl.

"Squeeze out every drop," she directed. "Then stop."

When done she tied my left wrist as she had the right, tying its rope end to the table leg in front of me.

"Lift up your knees a bit and set them back down."

I did as told, the pain amplified on my knees as I moved them on the rice.

"I'll be back in an hour," she said. "You just think about cumming, since that was more important to you than obeying me."

* * *

An hour later Carrie returned. She picked up the bowl and looked at my cum which had settled at the bottom into a small pool.

"You definitely did masturbate when gone," she remarked. "Definitely not nine days of cum here."

She set the bowl back down in front of me and untied my right wrist.

"Again," she barked. "Masturbate!"

Startled, I grabbed my cock which was soft and limp.

"Pump that thing!"

Slowly blood flowed and hardened my cock. Too slow for her.

"Damn it," she slapped a hand on side of the table. "When I say masturbate you better focus on getting hard and cumming. Faster Paul!"

She continued berating me as I pumped away. Groaning at both the pain of the rice and cranking away at my cock, I tried to block her out and think about licking her feet, her pussy.

A few strands of cum shot out onto the side of the bowl. I stoped holding my breath and took deep breaths.

Silent now, she retied my right wrist behind me.

"Almost as much cum as the first orgasm. Well, maybe half as much," she said. "I'll be back in an hour. Be ready to cum again!"

Again? For the next hour I pondered what I would think of to cum a third time. I loved when she'd have me suck her off right after a work out. I thought of that.

* * *

My left hand again. She untied it and placed it on my cock.

"Begin!" She barked as she sat in a dining room chair.

My cock sprang to life a bit quicker as I had been thinking about sucking her off.

"You like cumming like this?" She asked.

I nodded, no.

She kept barking, berating me about disobeying her. The tears forming in my eyes were not from the pain from the rice, or my cocks soreness. These tears were brought about by me upon realizing how I've disappointed her, and brought her to act in a way I know she was not interested in.

This masturbation every hour punishment continued into the afternoon. The sixth time she had me masturbate, it took almost 20 minutes to cum. My cock was extremely sore. The discomfort obvious on my face has now shifted more to the pain in my groin than the pain in my knees. My knees at this point are largely numb from the rice digging in to the skin.

When I do cum, this time, it is just a small spurt into the bowl. No drops to squeeze out.

"I do believe we have you drained now," She states. "I don't know, maybe you have one more small spurt in you. I'll be back in an hour."

I couldn't think, my mind is blank. If she makes me masturbate again, I will do my best. But I can't imagine getting my cock to the point it would actually cum again

When she returns, she takes the bowl and sets it aside. My hands are tied as they have been to opposite ends of the table. I can only watch, but I really do want to speak, beg forgiveness, and express how sorry I am. But I truly believe she wants me to remain silent. So I do.

"You are done with orgasms today," She says plainly. "Done for a while. You came six times today. I'm going to apply one of those orgasms to each of the next six days including today. From that day, you will begin again at zero. Doing the math, you need to earn 16 points before your next orgasm. Nod if you understand."

I nod, yes.

"While you are done coming today, your punishment is not over," she continues. My wrists untied, I get off the table, slowly. Shifting my weight off of the, my knees scream out in pain.

"You have 10 minutes to go to the bathroom," she instructs. "When you're done come into my office."

When I arrive in her office, she points to the corner. The plywood from the table now sits pressed up against the corner, but there is no rice.

"Kneel in the corner, facing the corner," she orders.

I do wish she says. She leaves the room, and I do not see her for hours. Occasionally, I hear her moving about other parts of the house, but otherwise, these are very silent hours for me.

When Carrie returns, she tells me to get up as she opens the plantation shutters of her office window. It is dark outside.

She looks at her watch. "It is 10:30 PM. It has been a long day, longer for you than for me I suppose. Tell me what today has meant for you."

"Carrie, I am sorry beyond words. The punishment you put me through today probably does not make up for the fact that I was disobedient and lied to you. I did not enjoy this day, I did not enjoy seeing the disappointment in your eyes that I placed there. I beg your forgiveness, but I know I have harmed our relationship. I hope in time you will trust me fully again. You have my word, even though you may not see much value in my word right now, but you have my word that I will never again masturbate without your permission. Please accept my apology and please do as you must to continue my punishment if you desire. Whatever, I am yours."

"Good. Never lie again. Go to bed!" She said sternly.

The next morning we awoke and began our day as if the period of punishment hadn't occurred. But it was on my mind. I obeyed her to the letter and put in exceptional effort into all I did.

I hope to never endure another punishment.