Slave Zoe's Folsom Weekend

Carabiners clicked onto the rings of my wrist cuffs, then Master pushed me down on the bed beside the cage. He urged me backward on the bed until my head was against the headboard, then clipped my arms wide apart to rings that I knew he kept at either corner for that purpose. He shoved a towel under my crotch-I am a champion squirter-and soon I felt rope being looped above my left knee and pulled to the side of the bed and tied tightly, and then the same on my right. I was face up, naked, blind. My cunt was wide open and exposed and its spicy scent filled the room. I yearned to be used.

Master's finger probed into me, and I shuddered. "Your cunt is dripping already, slut, and I've barely touched you. You know you're still restricted from orgasms for another two weeks, so you're not getting any this weekend." Of course, I knew-it had been my suggestion! I just love having to beg for permission to cum. It's humiliating and disgusting and I love it. And extended, weeks-long orgasm denial heightens the pleasure and the pain.

Master stuck his finger in my mouth and I licked off my juices. Then he roamed over my body with his hands. It had been months since he or anyone had properly groped me. At first, he was gentle, touching softly, and then he got rougher. Caresses became little slaps, his fleeting touches to my nipples added little pinches, and he'd started using his fingernails to lightly scratch my skin. Within a few minutes, the slaps got harder and sharper and he'd added some nipple clamps-clover clamps, by the way the fuckers felt.

And then I found out what the bands around my thighs were for. Master pushed a finger under each of them, pulled it upward, and let go suddenly. They snapped back viciously against my inner thighs, leaving me with searing pain, and I bucked against the ropes and grimaced. I actually tried kicking Master, though he had restrained me too well for that (and I knew that). And then Master did the same thing another three or four times. It smarted like hell. I giggled madly, which is what I do when I'm being beaten. "Did you know what those were for, sweet slave?" Master asked.

Master worked me over really well. I am a heavy bottom for pain and he checked all my boxes. Besides his hands, I could tell that he used floggers and whips and his favorite wooden paddle. I giggled and giggled through the cloth gag. After an indeterminate time, no more blows fell and it was quiet. I noticed how I was covered in hot sweat in the warm bedroom. Maybe Master noticed too, because soon he was rubbing a cold, damp cloth over my body, alternating it with an ice cube. A few times, he paused for an extended period in one spot or another, rubbing with the cloth or his fingers. It was puzzling but pleasant.

"All right, cunt, time for the fucking," Master announced. I was so happy. He started by rubbing his thumb against my clit, which was sensitive from weeks of teasing and orgasm denial. After a moment he shifted position and I felt that he was now rubbing it with the head of his cock. Then he plunged a few fingers into my cunt, still rubbing my clit with his cock, and started pumping them in and out.

It was almost unbearable. "Mstuh, mah ah've pamshn ta cum?" I mumbled through the cloth gag. I have to ask permission to cum, every time, and that overrides all my other rules.

Master pulled the cloth out of my mouth. "What, slut?" He's really bad at understanding me when I'm gagged. I'm not even sure how much of it is an act.

"MASter, may I HAVE perMISSION to CUM?" My words came in sudden gasps as his fingers continued pumping in and out.

"What? No, absolutely not." He stopped moving his cock and pulled his fingers out of my cunt. "You stupid slut, Zoe, you know very well that you are on orgasm denial for the next two weeks, until your next visit in October. You will not be cumming this weekend. Slut, tell me your mantra."

" 'This slut is a fucktoy, and fucktoys don't cum,' Master. " I recited.

"And why don't fucktoys cum?" He continued.

"Master, the job of a fucktoy is to provide pleasure to her-" I began.

"-its," Master interrupted.

"-to its Master using its cunt and ass and mouth. It would be disrespectful to its Master's pleasure if the fucktoy were to take pleasure itself," I finished.

"Very good, fucktoy," said my Master, and stuffed the cloth back in my mouth. He slid his cock into my cunt. I gasped. The feeling of Master's erect cock entering me for the first time always gives me a shiver. He slowly pumped his cock in and out. While he did that, he idly played with the rest of my body, alternately rubbing my clit with his thumb, smacking my belly and my legs, pulling on the chain connecting the nipple clamps (making me giggle once more). My climax had distanced itself a bit during the recitation, but it was building again as he fucked me and I would have to start actively resisting an orgasm soon or cum involuntarily. He'd punish me for disobedience for sure then. (How? Would I like it?) I wondered how close Master was to his own orgasm: if he came, he would stop (and probably be no good for anything for at least half an hour).

Master withdrew his dick and got off the bed. I noticed that I was covered in sweat again.

A moment later I heard a brief "whoosh!" of air, and then I erupted in pain. Two more times-no, three more times-I felt a hard, sharp whack of something smooth and stiff against my clit. I tried to close my legs to protect myself but of course I could not move. I spasmed with pain and shock. I gritted my tend and clutched my hands tightly into fists. There was more than pain...

Faintly, as if from a million miles away, I heard Master saying, "We had a bet, remember? You bet that I wouldn't use my riding crop on your clit. And the loser would give the winner oral. I win." I barely understood. My ears were ringing and a red ring of stars was dancing in front of my blinded eyes. As my breath came back to me, I started giggling, first slow and then growing faster.

Master clambered back onto the bed and sat astride my chest, one knee on each side. As he did, he removed the nipple clamps, and a fresh wave of pain came across me as blood flowed back into my nipples. I barely noticed. I was still giggling through my gag, losing my breath again. As Master started to open my mouth wider with his fingers, I mumbled, "Wub!" through the cloth.

"What's that?" Master said, startled. He pulled the cloth out of my mouth and I felt his cock brush my cheek.

"One!" I repeated. Another standing order is that I must count each of my orgasms out loud. I am so multiorgasmic that Master once fingered me to over a hundred orgasms in one session. He wants to keep track of them and I lose count if I don't say them out loud.

"One? One! You fucking slut! You know you're not allowed to cum!" He jammed his cock into my mouth. I sucked obediently. He rocked back and forth. It felt half-hearted, and I could tell that he was thinking more about how to punish me than about the blow job I was giving him. That was a good thing because I was still coming down from the orgasm and not doing my best work. Still, he was as hard as I had ever known him. The prospect of punishing me must be turning him on. It made my own juices flow too, and I was glad that he'd put the towel under me. I wondered if he'd cane me. I love most forms of pain, but not caning, so it's a good punishment for when I really need to be corrected. This was definitely such a time.

"I've got it," Master said. He pulled his cock out of my mouth, freed my arms and my legs, and made me stand next to the bed. He handed me something made of cloth and said, "Go into the bathroom. Close the door, take out your contacts, put on the blindfold hood, then come back out and stand attentively." I guessed that it was bedtime, since the contacts shouldn't be worn overnight. But what was my punishment, then?

I followed his orders. It took me a few minutes because I am not good with contacts, since I only wear them when I am with Master. I had a brief glimpse of his bathroom after removing the contacts and before putting on the blindfold hood, then the world was dark again. I had not seen Master at all so far and I hoped that I would be permitted to do so at some time during the weekend. While I was working on it, I heard sounds of metal on metal, a door opening, and something large being dragged across the floor.

I came out and stood and waited. Master soon came back. He took my hands and drew them behind me, and I felt a heavy metal chain being drawn through the D-rings of my cuffs. I heard the sound of a zip tie closing the chain into a loop. I think he likes zip ties because they have a kind of permanence but he can still remove them easily with a pair of scissors.

"OK, slut, bedtime. Let's get you ready." He guided me into the bathroom. I heard the water run for a moment, then he opened my mouth, poking his fingers through the mouth hole on the blindfold hold. He brushed my teeth, briefly, then I heard the water running again and the clink of the toothbrush dropping back into the holder. I felt a damp sponge pass across the mouth hole, probably cleaning off stray toothpaste.

"Do you need to go potty, slut?" I nodded. Master pushed me farther into the bathroom and then sat me down on the toilet. I had to lean forward to make room for my arms chained behind me. "Go ahead and pee," he urged me, and at the same time he thrust his cock into my mouth. I've always found it easier to pee when I'm aroused, and this was incredibly arousing since Master had never supervised me using the bathroom before, so it did not take long. I couldn't wipe myself, of course, but he did it for me, first with a piece he wetted in the sink then with a second one to dry me off. I came damn close to cumming again as the paper brushed my clit, and I was grateful that he was quick.

"Now, time for your punishment, slut. Crawl," he said, and I got down from the toilet onto my knees.

Chapter 4: Punishment

Of course, I couldn't really crawl with my hands chained behind my back. I shuffled on my knees as best I could. It was uncomfortable on the hardwood floor, but I knew I couldn't be going very far in the small apartment. It felt a little like a part of the punishment and that made it okay. As funny as it sounds, I was actually looking forward to my punishment because I knew that it would make things better between us. People in vanilla relationships have fights and sometimes yell, it's hard on both people for a long time, and it breeds resentment, but in a Master's relationship with their slave, the master just punishes the slave and it's all over. There's no need to yell because a cane speaks very loudly. It's a very healthy way to do things.

I didn't know where we were going. We spend most of our time in the bedroom. I was surprised when I figured out that I was being guided over to the patio door. By the door, Master crouched down, took me by the chin, and said, "Slut, I am so disappointed in you. You were due to stay on orgasm denial for another two weeks. I was counting on you to double your previous record. Zoe, you knew that it was important to me to see just how frustrated you would get. Well, I've figured out your punishment: I'm going to restart your orgasm denial, and I'm going to double it again. That means that your next orgasm will be two months from today." I wasn't exactly happy to hear that, although it did turn me on in an uncomfortable kind of way. I thought it was an especially suitable punishment because it was so closely related to the infraction.

"Also," he went on. Oh, shit, there's more. "Also, tonight, since you misbehaved in a way that metaphorically separates us by breaking important agreements-" (by which he meant my agreement to obey him in all things) "-I am going to physically separate you from me tonight. I hope that if in the future it occurs to you to disobey, thinking of this punishment makes you reconsider."

Master finished, "In short, you are going to be sleeping outside." I must have started at that, because he added, "That's right, I moved your cage to the patio. It's within view of our neighbors here and in the building across the street, so you need to be still to avoid attracting attention." I tried to remember the height of the fence surrounding the patio. I thought it was waist-high at most. Master pushed me forward through the patio door, and then through the cage door. It was difficult to get in and to find a comfortable position with my hands chained behind my back. Soon I felt a slight tug on the chain and I heard a zip tie, and then the same was repeated with my collar. He added a chain through my ankle cuffs and zip-tied it too. The cage door swung shut and a final zip tie closed it.

Master had parting words for me. He said, "Slut, tomorrow is your next chance to make me proud. Tonight, you're chained to your cage by your neck and wrists and ankles. If you escape from those, you are still locked in your cage. If you break out of the cage, you're still stuck on a high balcony behind a locked door, naked with two collars locked on you. And I don't think I could even hear you through the patio door, although our neighbors or passersby might. So, I suggest that you sleep quietly and think about how you can do better in the future," and he left and closed the door behind him. Master knew, despite his words, that I wasn't really thinking about escaping. He knew that this description of my predicament would turn me on, the same way it turned him on.

I was nearly crying, though. I was upset at my body for betraying me with an involuntary orgasm when I wasn't allowed one. It must have been due to the two weeks of denial. After that amount of time, almost anything could set me off, although usually I could better control myself. After a minute, I did start crying, first with audible sobs that I managed to cut off when I remembered what he said about the neighbors, then with tears dripping down my face. The tears came too late, since Master had always said that if I could actually cry real tears for him from orgasm denial, he would grant me an orgasm. I didn't think it counted unless he saw it himself.

I cried quietly like this for a few minutes, until I felt the tears begin to dry on my face. I couldn't wipe them off, but I did rub my face on the sheet as much as I could given the collar chain. At least I was laying on something comfortable-it wasn't just a dog bed and I wondered how Master had obtained a mattress for a dog cage. I shifted a bit. The chains weren't painful and didn't cut into my skin, but they did prevent me from changing my position. I normally sleep on my side, but not with my hands behind my back, and I like to be able to change sides.

Then the catharsis came. I had disappointed my Master, yes, but I was being punished, and that was sufficient. In the morning, Master would come and get me and everything would be okay after that. I was glad to be here in San Francisco with him, or at least just outside his apartment, and we were going to have a fantastic weekend. With that thought, I fell asleep.

I woke up an indeterminate time later. I could not tell what time it was, since my blindfold hid even most light from peeking in. I guessed that I must be close to morning just because I felt refreshed. I stretched as much as I could within my restraints and waited for Master to come. I was thirsty. I remembered the water bottle and searched for it with my mouth until I came across it. I licked and sucked it greedily, until I thought about how I didn't want to drink too much because I wouldn't have a chance to pee until perhaps much later. The dish of pellets was under the water dispenser. I ate a few experimentally. They tasted mainly of salt but they were filling. I ate only a few more because I didn't want to get thirsty again.

After that, I waited a lot longer. I know I drowsed, because I startled awake sometime later at the jangling of chains. My collar chain and wrist and ankle chains went slack and came apart, and then a moment later scissors snipped and the cage's latches were withdrawn. "Come back inside, slut," said my master. "Quickly. It's daytime and people are around and I don't want them to notice you." I didn't want to be a spectacle among vanillas either, so I went quickly as I could given the cramps I had from the fixed position I'd held all night. I stretched and yawned and rubbed my arms and legs and they started to feel better.

Master said, "I hope you ate some breakfast, slut. We have a busy day and there isn't time for more." This made me glad to have eaten what I had. "Go to the bathroom and go potty, then come back to me." I did, and this was the most normal thing I'd done since I'd landed at SFO. Not normal by vanilla standards, though, since I was still blindfolded, naked, with a cuff on each limb. And, of course, I was not allowed to close the bathroom door.

Master grabbed me by the shoulders unexpectedly as I left the bathroom and pulled me into the bedroom, where he sat on the bed and threw me over his lap and gave me a wonderful over-the-knee spanking by hand. His erection pressed into my belly as slap after slap landed on my ass and my thighs. It was great and I could feel his warmth and love deep inside me. I know that Master plans out our times together, sometimes with lots of details and contingencies. He tries to hide it but sometimes I spot him checking his notes. This spanking felt like it was outside the plan. It felt spontaneous and joyful and rooted in exuberant high spirits, and his happiness infected me too.

It ended all too soon, and then Master led me to the dining room and sat me down at the table. There was a rattle of chains and I felt my legs and my collar being attached loosely to the chair. Master told me to close my eyes and keep them closed until he said otherwise. I nodded and he pulled the blindfold hood away. A moment later, I felt him brushing my hair. "It looks awful after so long in the hood," he explained, "and I need to keep you looking good."

After he was satisfied with my hair, Master said, "OK, now you can open your eyes." I opened them. Before me on the table was a collection of stapled-together sheafs of paper, a notebook, pens and pencils, and an electronic tablet. The paper on top was titled:

CSE213 FALL 2019 - INTRODUCTION TO COMPUTER SCIENCE THEORY

EXAM 1 STUDY GUIDE

"You've got an exam on Monday and you're going to study for it now," said my Master. "The tablet has a copy of your textbook and nothing else to distract you, no Internet access. You have 90 minutes. Concentrate. When I get back, you're going to take a practice exam. You want to do well on it."

Chapter 5: Study Time

Master had promised that he'd make time for me to study. I hadn't expected to be chained to a chair, naked, for it, but Master knows best. I imagined that he had gone away so as not to be distracting. It would have been harder to study with him around, since I enjoy the sight and sound and smell of him so much.

I shifted a little on the seat. My buttplug wiggled under pressure from the wooden seat. Master tends to forget about my buttplug but I, of course, feel it whenever I move. Maybe he would have removed it if he'd thought of it, to keep me from another distraction.

I blinked a little in the unaccustomed light, and turned to the study guide. It started:

Practice Problem 1

Let Σ = {0, 1}. For k > 1 consider the sequence of languages:

...

I worked my way through the first problem. It was not difficult, just an exercise really, but I needed to be able to do problems like this quickly and accurately and the additional practice was necessary. I flipped the first sheet over, glancing at the slave tattoo on the inside of my wrist as I did, and went on to the second problem.