The Audition Ch. 04

Ken sat back in the recliner and watched his wife typing. Naked, face tear stained, and hair in wayward curls she looked beautiful. When she spoke about herself she always complained of being too curvy or losing the fight with gravity over the years but he didn't see any of that. He had learned long ago that his wife was everything he needed.. her body..her mind.. and mostly her spirit. It never mattered to him if her breasts weren't quite as firm as they once had been. He just liked to play with them whether it was pinching those big, brown nipples that seemed to always be hard or using both hands to squeeze her big melons together around his cock. Her hips were easy to grab onto from behind and provided excellent handholds for rocking her body back and forth as they fucked doggy style. Her mouth could make him come better than any woman he'd ever been with and with her imagination at its service could say the dirtiest, most erotic things sending his mind reeling as he'd spurt cum over her face marking his slut and fucktoy as forever his.

Actually his cock was hard now and had been for a while. He wanted to push her over that spanking bench and fuck her until she screaming his name and not caring who heard her. And that was going to happen but not now. The Master still had a job to do and he was determined to make it count. The "ting" of the timer sounded and Ken saw that Sara had stopped typing and was reading what she had written.

"Time's up, babe. Let's see how you did."

Sara watched him turn the screen so he could read its contents and didn't realize she was holding her breath. She tried to get comfortable on the little round top of the stool but realized it wasn't possible. Aside from the seat being too little there was also the issue of her bottom being bruised. No matter how she adjusted herself the pain was still there. She decided just to ignore it and focus on the man in front of her.

His face gave away no clues as to whether or not he thought it was good enough. The occasional blink was his only movement aside from his thumb's slight movement on the touchpad as he scrolled through the pages.

Minutes passed without a sound and Sara thought she was going to scream for him to tell her something.. anything at all... when without warning he turned the screen to face her once again and said, "It'll do."

She sighed with relief. There was only one thing left to do and she did it before she lost her nerve. Sending the cursor up the screen she placed it on top of the "post" button and then she clicked. The page cleared and her story and accompanying photo were replaced by a message that was meant to be cheerful and kinky letting the author know her post had been accepted and was now available for the masses. Sara closed her eyes and pictured the emails hitting her friends' boxes announcing that DaddysGirrl had posted in Doms and Their Subs with a title of "I was a very bad girl and Master is punishing me."

"We've been in here for a little while. Why don't you crawl over to the fridge and get your Master a bottle of water. Get one for yourself, too. I don't want my slave getting dehydrated."

That was typical of Ken. Even in the heat of the most erotic scene within which they'd ever found themselves immersed, he didn't forget about the basic needs of life. He never let her get too tired or too hot or too anything that was bad for her health. Like any good Master or husband he accepted the responsibility of taking care of her... mind and body.

Sara crawled slowly to the refrigerator trying not to bruise her knees on the hard cement. Rising to a kneeling position, she opened the door, removed two bottles and immediately realized she had no idea how to crawl back with both of them.

"Um... Sir? May I stand and walk these back over to you?" She was very surprised by his negative response.

"No. You have not yet earned that privilege. You may, however, remain in that kneeling position and bring them."

Sara held back a sigh and basically shuffled over the floor, knees sliding forward one after the other. Her breasts, still the canvas of black hashmarks, jiggled with each step and her hands were held waist high with a clear plastic bottle in each one. Upon reaching her Master's feet, she handed him one bottle, knelt back onto her heels and opened the other.

As the icy cold water filled her mouth and throat, she became aware of how thirsty she was. The crying, accompanied by all the emotional and physical exertion, had taken its toll and now her body was being refreshed as her soul had been earlier while being held in her husband's lap. The bottle emptied quickly so Sara continued to rest on her heels until her husband was ready which wasn't too long in coming.

He stood and picked up the leash that still dangled from her collar.

"Over here, little girl. I want you to see what I built especially for you."

Sara quickly crawled behind him and could feel the hard cement making definite bruises on her kneecaps. Probably no more than thirty seconds had passed and he stopped her with a hand to her forehead and then a finger to lift her chin.

"It's beautiful, don't you think so, pet?" Ken was admiring the cross and its dungeon like attachments.

"Um.. yes, Sir. It's very nice." Sara didn't sound quite as excited by the monstrosity on the wall as had her husband. She kept thinking that she was the one who'd be chained and helpless in those manacles while he'd be free to use her as he wished. It was a scary thought. It was also an exciting one. A part of her looked forward to being able to use it again when it could be for fun instead of punishment. A small smile played about her lips as she imagined the possibilities.

With two fingers slipped inside Sara's collar, Ken urged her to stand and then forced her back against the crossed boards where he firmly secured her starting with her wrists. Each arm was extended over her head and locked into place by hooking a small chain to her leather wrist cuffs. Her legs were similarly secured but with Velcro leather straps. Standing spread-eagled against the wall, Sara knew the true meaning of the word vulnerable for the second time today. She was looking out over the room to a small window on the opposite wall. The sun was still up but had dropped to the horizon. If he didn't finish soon, her husband would have to turn on the garage lights and her naked body would become immediately broadcast to any passersby on the dark street. Her tits and even her cleanly shaven pussy were on display to one and all. Once again, Sara's cheeks reddened from the embarrassment of her situation.

If he noticed, Ken offered no comment. He had instead retrieved a dark gray flogger from the work table and was running its soft bands over his free hand.

"You used to love the flogger. Do you remember? You'd beg me to slap your ass with it. And now we will use that as the fifth piece of your discipline. You will receive fourteen lashes from the flogger.... one for every hash mark on your gorgeous tits."

With that Ken raised the flogger and brought it down on top of the first hash mark he'd applied. Its lashes spread over the mark and Sara's left tit making her body reacted with a jerk as she reflectively tried to pull away from the pain. She yelped but remembered without being reminded to count and thank him for the hit. Ken was meticulous... hitting each of the lines, one by one, but always watching too, her nipples that jutted out hard and proud throughout the flogging. The lightweight leather rarely left bruises on Sara's skin but Ken was fairly sure the force he'd used each time had served as an effective reminder of her disobedience.

As soon as the flogger had served its purpose, Ken replaced it in his hand with a 30" black leather crop. He also picked up the black permanent marker he'd used when the punishment had first begun. He picked a spot a few inches under her right hip bone and began drawing a small circle.

"Tell me, slave, why are we beginning your audition today with a session of discipline?"

Sara watched him perplexed by the drawing on her leg. "Sir, I am being punished for disrespecting you on facebook."

"Exactly right. The object of all of this is to remind you of how important it is to respect your Master."

With those words, Ken delivered a stinging blow to Sara's leg right on the dark circle he'd just drawn. After hearing the expected response, he brought down two more very intense blows to the same spot. Sara was reeling from the amount of pain she felt from so few strikes of the crop. Still she managed to count and thank her Master for each one.

"I have chosen this single spot on your body to keep the memory of our work today, Sara. All of the fourteen blows will be delivered to this same circle. And if I do my job well it should leave a significant bruise there."

He took Sara's chin in his hand to force her gaze into his. "Do you believe I can do that, young lady?"

Ken saw real fear in her eyes as she answered in the affirmative.

"Good girl... so do I."

The striking of the crop came in a furious series barely leaving time between each for Sara to count. By the time they were completed, Sara was out of breath as much from the pain as from yelling out each count. She couldn't believe how much it hurt after only fourteen hits with that tiny piece of leather. Normally she loved to have it strike against even her most sensitive spot but this was something she'd rather not repeat ever again.

"Now let's see if I've been successful." Ken's face once again held the look of a cat playing with its prey. "What if I press a little... right here."

His thumb began pressing into the circle which was now dark red within the black outline. His touch was light at first but without warning he forced it deep into her flesh.

Teeth clenched and lips bared, Sara hissed in agony.

"Oh, please stop, Sir! It's good! I swear I can feel it.. please, please stop!"

Tears flowed down Sara's cheeks and her body strained against its bonds. No matter what she did she could not get away from the pain. It made no sense that his one finger could cause such agony but it was happening nonetheless. Then suddenly it was gone and Sara could breathe again.

Ken stepped toward her hanging body and she could feel the heat of him through his clothing as it rubbed against her. His lips brushed her ear as his left hand played with her breast. He whispered.

"For the rest of our little play time, pet, I'm going to use that spot to help you remember why you're here. In a moment, I'm going to give you your final piece of discipline and I'll expect you to use what you learn there every time I do this..."

Again his thumb forced itself deep into that tiny circle of her flesh and again Sara begged for him to stop. Then just as quickly as he'd begun, Ken stopped, stepped back and began releasing his wife from her place on the cross.

Limbs unshackled, Sara was led to the small stool she'd sat on to write her fetlife post but there was something different about it now. Across the top lay a flat piece of sand paper that seemed to be glued to the wood. A small moan escaped her lips as she recognized it and the function it was meant to perform. She heard her husband's small chuckle as he guided her to sit facing the wall only inches in front of her face. She had to open her legs wide to make her body fit without moving the stool backward. Her full weight rested on her bottom due to the awkward position and mixed with the gritty surface of the sand paper it brought immediate stings from the welts and bruises she'd earned earlier. Even with the pain, Sara couldn't help but admire her husband's wicked imagination.

Once Ken had his wife seated correctly upon his specially modified stool, he took a paper off the workbench and taped it to the wall directly in front of Sara's face. His handwriting wasn't much to brag about but the message was easy enough to read and its meaning was unambiguous.

Ken's fingers wrapped themselves into Sara's hair as he directed her to read the note before her. Her voice was calm and strong. She read his words as if they were a prayer.

"My place is at my Master's feet. I am here because I choose to be and I am forever grateful that he accepts and loves me as I am."

Another breathy whisper found her ear. "Do you believe those words, my pet?"

"Yes, Sir... I believe it with all my heart. And I will always remember it. And I'll always love and respect you for writing it."

"That's my good girl. I want you to memorize the words while you're sitting here for the next fourteen minutes. And then, when you prove that you have, you will be all finished with your punishment and we can move on to a night of much more interesting things." His tongue licked her ear as Ken ended his nearly erotic command.

"Mmm.. yes, Sir. This girl cannot wait."

Sara's attempt at sultry was only slightly diminished by her constant fidgeting. The sand paper had been a wonderful touch to the punishment stool... as she would refer to it hereafter. Regardless of the discomfort, Sara read and re-read the message practicing often with her eyes closed. When the kitchen timer sounded she was confident she would pass her Master's test.