The Meeting

My eyes closed of their own accord. I was too overwhelmed with the sensations coursing through my body and your near-silent presence. My mind was in a vortex of colliding sensation and fear, with only a few coherent thoughts rising to the surface.

I felt you move away, back down to the end again. I braced as much as I could, knowing how much worse this was going to be. I heard the sharp swish before the leather struck my flesh again, bringing more intense pain than I had ever felt. I squealed again, rolling onto my side to escape the hot burning agony, tears welling in my eyes. That was three.

There was no way I could withstand two more. I just couldn't.

You must have sensed that I was close to breaking. I heard the riding crop thud on the table, felt you move to stand beside me. Your hands were tender against my skin as you stroked my arm and back, caressing and soothing. You gently rolled me back over, stroking my hair and face, calming me. I didn't want to look at you, fearing that I would see what I felt: my failure. I had wanted so urgently to please you and I dreaded I had been a disappointment. I couldn't even handle my first punishment.

Your hands continued to stroke me, rubbing down my arms, stomach, even the space between my breasts. Gradually my breathing returned to normal. Apprehensively I peeked up, into your face, relieved to see the concern in your expression, with a flicker of anger behind it.

"You didn't safeword." I heard the censure in your tone. You thought I had deliberately refused to say it, to push myself past my ability to bear. I didn't tell you at the time but the truth is, I didn't even think of it. Despite the level of misery I was in, stopping never occurred to me. I shook my head, indicating that I wanted to continue. I wasn't ready to quit yet. I was too aroused, to enthralled with the power you exuded. You smiled, softly this time, surprised. You hadn't expected this.

As I spread myself back out on the table I heard you pick up the crop again, moving down to the end of the table again. I took deep, slow breaths to steady myself as you moved back into position. I could do this. I needed to do this, to prove myself, to accept my nature. Pain was pleasure, the two inseparable, flip sides of the same coin. I could do this.

Your hand moved, the leather slashing down again, striking me. I cried out, more tears spilling down my temples, but I stayed in place. That was four. I could do one more. I could. I knew I could. I had to.

Apparently I was right. You did the last shortly afterward, bringing the most intense suffering I had ever experienced to an end. My breath came out in short sobs but inside I was proud. I had done it. I had survived my first punishment with you.

I was sure you would be proud too, but I didn't have the voice to ask. Immediately after you placed the crop back on the side table. My whole cunt was on fire, my clit aching and engorged with pain. I flinched slightly when I felt your hand begin lightly rubbing, first my labia, then gradually moving to my most tender and brutalized bits. You gently stroked and soothed, expertly massaging away some of the stinging. I settled again, allowing your touch to comfort me, to arouse me beyond all reason.

I was so relaxed I didn't notice when you stood. One moment I was enjoying the delicious sensation of your fingers teasing my skin, the next I realized you were looming over me again, that expression back on your face.

You know the one. The expression that tells me my place, that I have no control. The one that demands I must submit to you in every way. Gone was the caring man who soothed and comforted me. Vaguely I wondered how much more torment I could withstand, how much more you had in store for me.

I didn't have to wait long. You advanced until your pelvis was level with mine, your cock erect, nudging my entrance. You shifted forward, your strong cock forcing its way into my tight channel, stretching me. I groaned in agony and ecstasy as your cock made its unhurried advance into places rarely touched, taking its time in reaching its full descent. There you stopped, head pressing again my cervix, savoring the tightness as I panted small breaths, allowing a moment for me to adjust. Just as deliberately you withdrew, causing ripples of both pleasure and agony. I gasped and moaned, shaking as you pulled out then moved forward to rest at my entrance again. I tried not to tense when I felt you move again, I knew you wouldn't be as easy with me this time.

The next thrust was full of your power, your domination. In one hard movement you buried you cock deeply, impaling me hard. My hips arched upward, either in encouragement or escape, I was never sure. Again you withdrew until just the tip was seated in my entrance, using your full weight to force your cock inside as far as it would go.

And again.

And again.

It was almost too much for me to bear; the feeling of your cock pulsing within me, your pelvis slamming into me, the lust on your face as you used me, my skin hot. Within moments I was teetering on the edge, begging you. I didn't want to find out the consequences of cumming without permission.

"Sir? Please!"

You stopped, fully embedded, looming over me. "Please what?"

"Sir! Please!" I was mindless, imploring and pleading.

"What are you?" Still unmoving, pulsing inside me, implacable in your insistence on humiliating me yet again.

"Oh god Sir, I'm a painslut. A dirty little painslut who needs to cum. Please? Sir please?"

Another withdrawal, another hard thrust. "No."

I couldn't believe it. You actually denied me my release, when I was so close and so desperate. I needed it. You resumed your furious pace and I wailed. I knew I couldn't continue being stimulated like this, bound and abused, being fucked hard and fast.

So I begged. And pleaded. Nearly cried with frustration and overwhelming need, each hard thrust sending me closer to the edge. My ragged breath echoing in the room, my chest heaving with arousal and the effort to hold back.

"Sir please! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...I can't...I'm going to...I just can't!"

"Cum." That one word directive sent me spiraling and shuddering. I felt you tense; using all your power you slammed into me twice more, your cock swelling and pumping all your cum into me. This added more intensity to my orgasm and I convulsed harder, gasping and twitching, my muscles tense as dizzying spirals of pleasure consumed me.

I felt you lean down to nuzzle my ear. "Such a painslut."

"Yes, Sir." My voice was barely audible, my chest still rising and falling rapidly. I was vaguely aware of you withdrawing and moving away. I was too weary to try to follow your movements so I just rested, allowing my mind to drift as my body continued to calm. My eyes closed.

I don't know how long I lay there. My next thought was an awareness of something warm and soothing rubbing across my labia. It felt like some kind of cloth. With effort I raised my head to see you carefully cleaning me, gently removing as much fluid as you could. I laid my head back against the table. I was too drained to argue about it and my whole body ached. I just didn't have the strength.

Perhaps I dozed. I remember feeling the slow motions of the cloth, then something cold was being rubbed into my skin. I could smell a faint hint of something herbal, like pine, as you massaged my arms and legs, rolling me over to rub the cream on my back. With a great effort I opened my eyes, noticing that you must have cleaned yourself up as well. Your expression was neutral, neither hard or cold, you continued your ministrations.

"What's that?" I murmured sleepily

"Liniment. It will help with the soreness. You aren't accustomed to standing in that pose for so long, so you may have strained a few muscles." Your voice was kinder now. I continued to drift, more exhausted than I could ever recall feeling.

Soon after I felt your hands on my arms, helping me sit, then stand. My legs were felt boneless, my skin tingling from the liniment as you supported me across the room, back to the couch. You sat, helping me down to curl up beside you, head on your chest, your arms wrapped around me. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of your skin, enjoying the warmth of your touch as your hands stroked my shoulder and arm.

"Why did you clean me?" As I settled I became increasingly embarrassed that you had performed such an act—much more intimate than merely fucking me—and a little resentful that you hadn't forced me to clean you. It was one of those things we had discussed.

"I wanted to check the damage. You were very tight, and I could have torn something."

"Oh." That had made me feel better, although I was still a little embarrassed. "Sir?"

"Hmm?"

"Remember how you said I would clean your cock with my mouth?"

"Yes, and you will. But today you were in too much of a haze. Would you have been able to?"

I thought about it. I hadn't even been able to move on my own.

"Sir, may I ask one more question?"

"You may."

"How did you know that I need a break?"

I felt your sigh more than heard it. You were silent for such a long time that I feared you had been offended or angered by my question, that I was being impertinent without intending to.

"A combination of things. Your face, for one. It is so expressive, I can see every thought. And I didn't think you could take more since you had such a difficult time with your punishment."

"Thank you Sir. I was just curious." I felt your hands settle.

"How is that cunt?" There was a trace of humor in your voice now.

"Abused."

You chuckled.

"Glad you are enjoying it. I feel like I won't be able to walk for a week." I snuggled closer.

"Needs more, hmm?"

"Oh god no. My pussy has had enough."

"Oh, is it your pussy's choice?" The words were lightly spoken but had an edge to them. I was treading dangerously close to the line.

"No, Sir. I didn't mean to say it was. Merely that is has been thoroughly abused and very tender."

"Good girl. Rest for a bit. I think your ass needs some attention too."

I smiled.

The Meeting-Part 2

I think it was the movement that woke me. For a split second I was confused, curled up in a ball, bare against something soft and faintly scratchy. In the next moment memories of flogging and fucking came rushing back and I sat up quickly, feeling stiff muscles protesting as I forced them into motion. My skin felt warm and a little tender, my nipples were still dark but less painful now. Most of my attention was concentrated on my poor abused naughty bits, where I could feel the most heat and discomfort. Nothing I had ever done in the past had hurt like that.

"Ah, there you are."

I jumped slightly when you spoke, realizing then that the sound that woke me was you. I smiled slightly and turned toward you, feeling something soft brush my neck. With a quick glance down I realized my hair had come out of its band, small wisps floating around my face.

"God." My voice felt rusty so I swallowed a few times. "How long did I sleep?" I felt shy again, a little ashamed that I had been drained of energy so quickly, but mostly self-conscious. Had I really just let him whip me and fuck me?

Oh, God. I had. Even more awkward, I had actually enjoyed it. Well, most of it. I blushed more.

"About an hour. You needed it. Leave it down," you added as I started running my fingers through my hair, trying to pull it back into some semblance of order. I complied with a little shrug. As long as you didn't plan on pulling it, I didn't mind it being down.

My hands drifted down to feel the welts across my body, gingerly massaging sore nipples, tracing the reddened stripes across my thighs, reflecting.

"How is your twat feeling?" There was humor in your tone again. You loved seeing me discomfited and off-balance.

"It's rather sore at the moment." I tried to keep the sour note out of my voice, but it was difficult. The aftermath was worse than the actual flogging or cropping. As fantastic as that orgasm had been, I knew I definitely didn't want to be punished again.

You must have noticed my neutral voice, because you stood suddenly. A thrill of excitement ran through me, causing my toes to curl and my muscles clench.

"Spread." The tone was back, implacable and commanding.

I knew at once what you wanted. Without looking at you I timidly stretched my legs wide along the couch, going completely scarlet. How much more could you embarrass me?

You remained stationary, tall and imposing, while I flushed. I waited for your next move, anxious. Why were you just standing there? No commands, no signals...nothing.

Sudden comprehension dawned and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. You didn't mean...?

You did.

My hands trembled as I tentatively reached down, pulling back inflamed and tender flesh, opening my recesses to your gaze, mortified more than I have been in my life. I could feel the slight wetness already starting to form, making my fingers slide as I held myself open. I was already becoming aroused.

After a long moment you crouched, reaching down to stroke each fold, exciting me. Unable to watch I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the back of the couch, letting the sensations wash over me. Your fingers danced across my clit, stroking lightly. I flinched.

"Still stinging?"

I nodded, biting my lip. Not unbearable, but definitely noticeable. Without the endorphins from full arousal, pain was just pain.

"I don't see any bruising."

I made a slight huff. "I don't bruise."

I felt your attention sharpen at my words, remember the flutter of panic. Oh crap. Did I really just admit that? Aloud? Damn and blast.

You didn't say anything about it, just continued to stroke and tantalize until I was moaning in delight, arching into your touch.

"Such a dirty slut, cum leaking out of your cunt." You slid a finger inside me, eliciting a delighted moan from me, continuing to tease. "I love seeing my cum in your hot pussy." You stroked a few more times, then rose. Your words penetrated my fog.

Cum? I didn't still have...did I?

I opened my eyes, confused. You must have read my face as the thought flickered through my brain. "Look at what a whore you are."

I glanced up at you first. You were upright again, that expression back in place, gazing down on me. In a flash I saw what I must look like to you, sprawled wide, completely naked, flaming pussy spread open, cum leaking out. My body flushed again as I glanced down. I hadn't noticed earlier, but a small pool of semen had seeped onto the fabric below.

Did I think I couldn't be more humiliated? I was. And you knew the effect your words would have, how being degraded like that always made my cunt throb with need. Even then, I was becoming a whore for you.

"But..." I struggled for words. "I thought...I mean...after, you cleaned me." I was stuttering.

You grinned broadly. "No, I wiped you down. There's a difference."

Wiped me down? Like I was a dog? I remember the shame I felt at the comparison, and the realization that this was deliberate. Another way to torment me, make me blush, make me suffer.

Apparently judging that I had been sufficiently embarrassed for the moment, you turned away. I watched you be enveloped in darkness as you moved further into the room. Without the distraction of your presence I felt my attention drift, absorbing my surroundings. The room was mostly black, with a bit of light over the couch where I was sitting and another pool some distance ahead. The rest was shrouded in shadows. I couldn't see where you had gone, but I was more concerned at the moment with the encroaching darkness. How large was this room anyway?

And just what did you have in it?

I sat contemplating this for a while, vaguely registering the continued growing dampness underneath my fingers. Thoughts flitted through my mind, ideas of toys and tables, torments and delights. The possibilities were endless, frightening, enthralling.

I still don't know how long I sat there, pussy spread open, gazing off into space while my mind spun. Minutes, hours, days...did it really matter? If it pleased you for me to hold myself open, revealing my innermost secrets, then I was perfectly happy to do so. Ashamed and embarrassed, yes, but inwardly thrilled and, oddly, content. It was what I needed.

My mind was so focused on these thoughts that I didn't notice your approach. One moment I was contemplating the myriad ways in this experience had surpassed my expectations, the next you were standing there, gazing down at me, seemingly pleased at how well I continued to spread myself open.

I still wasn't sure what to expect when I was told to follow, just that it was going to be wicked. The cold from the floor seeped into my soles as I walked a few steps behind you, counterpoint to the heat I could feel my body already radiating. Tendrils of anticipation, desire, and nerves coursed through me, spiking when I saw the area you had rigged. I stopped suddenly, mouth open slightly, amazed and a little frightened.

You had actually gotten one. We had discussed it before of course, many times. More than the flogger actually. I was elated, surprised, touched. I remember the way your mouth curled up at the corner, smiling at my astonished expression.

"What do you think?" You walked around it, hand patting the padded seat in unspoken command. I walked forward, still unable to believe I was seeing it here, for me.

For us.

"Where did you get one?" I climbed on it, ineptly, but I made it. My muscles felt weak with anticipation; I had fantasized about this as long as I could remember.

You knew me so well.

You didn't respond to my query, just continued smiling like the cat that got the cream as you grasped my wrist, bringing over to the armrest and securing it with a wide leather strap. The movement was soft, sensual; my breathing increased pace. Your fingers traced light lines across my skin as you walked around to the side, strapping my other hand down as well. Continuing the same delicate, teasing touches you placed one leg in a stirrup, then the other, stroking each calf in turn, cinching straps to keep them secure.

I was nearly panting from the sensations, my excited skin delighting in each caress, knots of yearning and eagerness curling through my stomach. What were you going to do? I was more helpless than I had been all day, almost entirely immobile, hair falling around my shoulders in a pink cascade.

My hands clenched reflexively, my ankles twisting in small circles. I wasn't getting out until you released me. I shivered.

"Comfortable?"

I nodded mutely. While mostly immobile I wasn't uncomfortable at all; the chair was a little cushy, soft underneath. I felt no strain from my arms or legs, just a tingling anticipation.

"Let's see what we can do about that."

Your wicked grin was back. I swallowed reflexively, certain that I knew what was coming next. Gynecological chairs were built for one main reason, after all.

Without warning I felt your hand reach down between my legs, pulling apart the fleshy globes of my ass. With sudden trepidation I realized the mistake I had made when dressing today: no plug. I was in such a rush—so exhilarated and terrified—that I had completely forgotten about it.

"Forget something, slut?" Your voice had a note of anger in it. I had broken a rule—unintentionally, yes, but the fact remained that I had. Which meant I was in for another punishment, and for a much worse infraction.

"Sir I am so sorry! I was in such a rush that I forgot. Please, don't punish me. I promise I won't forget again!" I was panicked now, beseeching.