The Punishment Ch. 01

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My chocolate eyes were round with excitement. You would be here soon, and I wanted everything to be perfect. I nervously checked my hair and makeup, smoothing non-existent flaws that had been fixed just a moment before. I ran my hands over the tops of my breasts, pushed up high by the metal stays of my red jacquard corset.

The straining flesh heaved above the black lace trim, and I smiled with satisfaction. Best two-hundred dollars I had ever spent. My DDDs had never looked better. The black lacing at the back cinched my waist tightly, creating an even more hourglass figure than already existed. I could barely breathe, but the agony was all part of the game.

You had no idea I would be here when you got home. I had never done anything like this, planned anything so daring. I prayed you would properly appreciate my gesture. I wasn't even sure if you knew how to handle a whip, or if you even liked to be tied up, and I was nervous.

I exited the bathroom and checked again to make sure all was in order. Your house was immaculate. I had spent over fours hours cleaning and organizing, creating the perfect stage for our upcoming performance. On the glass table by the front door lay an 8x10 inch picture of me in my corset, stockings, garters and thigh-high leather boots. It was propped up against a black glass vase full of blood-red roses.

Past the front door and hall, your dining table had been cleared of all items except for our new toys: a pair of steel handcuffs, two pairs of fur-lined leather wrist and ankle restraints, one flat black crop, a 12 inch leather cat o' nine whip, one satin blindfold, and a soft cotton gag. They all gleamed and shone wickedly in the rays of the afternoon sun.

Down the next hallway lay your bedroom. It was a scene of pure, unabashed lust and debasement. I had replaced your servicable white linen sheets with layers of silky satin, black and red. It hung in drapes around the windows and canopied the bed in a decadent bower of passion. Velvet cords dangled from each bedpost, enticing instruments of submission.

All these preparations paled in comparison to the new piece of furniture in the right corner of your room. Looking as if it had been crafted centuries before, wooden timbers formed an instrument of torture and pleasure, punishment and desire. When examined closely, one could tell that a person could be forced to stand or kneel, depending on the punishment, upon the 4-foot wide turntable that rested on the ground. A pole rose up behind the table, and a horizontal plank extended out halfway overhead. A chain fell from the plank to attach to restraints, and it could be raised and lowered depending on the activity. The turntable itself was rotated with a smooth wooden handle attached to a crank.

I imagined you kneeling, blindfolded, gagged and cuffed, arms raised to the end of the chain, stretching you taut. I could hear your moans behind your gag as I whipped you from the top of your back to the soles of your feet with the cat o' nine. I could see your flesh glowing pink as it burned beneath the leather's cruel kiss. And if you were good enough, I might reward you with a turn at whipping me with the crop. Just imagining it made my flesh tingle and burn.

Turning away from my lovely new acquisition, I readied myself for your arrival. You didn't even know I had a key to your house. I had copied it a few days ago from a spare you kept by the phone. I wanted this to be a complete shock. I wanted you at my mercy as I introduced you to new heights of pleasure. I knew I was taking a risk, surprising you like that, but I somehow felt that you would enjoy it as much as I had imagined.

I heard your car pull into the driveway, and I ducked into the spare bedroom. I was going to come up behind you as you stood examining the items on the dining table. With a deft flick of my hands, I would have you cuffed before you could react.

And then the fun would begin.

I realized I was holding my breath as I heard you open the front door. Silence fell, and I envisioned you staring at my picture. Perhaps you reached out a finger and stroked a rose. Your footsteps echoed over the wood floors as you started down the entrance hall. I was surprised to not hear you call out. I had been sure you would call my name. But you remained silent as I heard you enter the dining area.

When your footsteps stopped, I eased out of the room and silently strode towards you, taking care to make no noise in my high-heeled boots. I crept closer to you and came to halt when I was no more than a yard away. The table was nestled in an alcove, and I was sure you would not be able to escape me.

Taking one last step, I allowed my heel to fall against the floor, resounding with a loud snap. You didn't jump. You didn't turn around. You stayed facing the table, gazing at the items before you. Even when you spoke into my shocked silence, you were calm, infuriatingly so. Why weren't you at least a bit startled?

"Do you actually know how to use these, my dear?" you asked. I could hear a change in your voice, a new vibration that made my body shiver. Your hands were still in front of you, and I couldn't see what you were doing.

Attempting to sound cool and unruffled, I laughed throatily and answered. "Why of course I do. I had a wonderful teacher. She taught me all I know."

"She?" you inquired politely. "My, my. There are apparently many things I didn't know about you."

I kept silent, refusing to tell you that she was actually just a friend who had given me some advice and instructions at the start of my escapade into BDSM. She was a mother-of-three soccer mom who had been fortunate enough to marry a man who enjoyed her fetishes. I didn't tell you that it was all still pretty much in theory on my part, that I hadn't had much experience in the actual practice. This was my fantasy, my setup, dammit, and I was in control.

At your amused indifference, I began to get even more nervous. Rashly, I stepped forward with the intent of reaching around you and quickly lifting the pair of handcuffs. I would immediately snap them in place, and once more I would be in charge.

You moved faster than anyone I had ever seen. As I stepped toward your body, you whipped around to face me. I hadn't realized that you had been holding the cuffs in your hands, and I faltered with surprise. Damn, I had wanted to get those on you as fast as possible. How was I to do that now?

Before I could even begin to formulate a new plan, you slammed my back against the wall, pinning me with your body. You grasped one of my wrists in one hand, stretched it over my head, and snapped one cuff into place. Dazed, I watched as you cuffed my other hand as well. I could barely inhale, your body was pressed so hard against mine. Now holding the cuff chain in your left hand, you reached around and grabbed my hair. Towering over me, you pulled back hard and forced me to look in your eyes.

I had never seen such heated intensity in your gaze, and I realized that beneath it all, for the entire time of our acquaintance, you had held back a seething cauldron of savage desire and power.

"So, my little pet," you growled at me, "you thought to teach me a lesson or two, hmmm? Did you perhaps imagine me naked, cuffed, perhaps kneeling as you whipped me? Did you imagine me as your perfect little slave, scrambling to comply to your every demand? Did you see yourself in that postion, weilding that power?"

I couldn't even nod, my head was pulled back to tightly. I merely stared into your furious eyes, my silence damning me as the fear began to coalesce in my mind. Oh god, what had I done? Had I misjudged you that badly? Were you angry at me for entering your house without your permission? Were you mad at the way I presumed you would do whatever I said? Or was it everything I had done, including the fact that I so brashly and naively assumed you would be submissive to my every whim? This fire in you was so new, so unexpected.

Letting go of the cuffs, you grabbed my chin and squeezed hard. "You will answer me when I ask you a question."

"I thought...that, that is I hoped that you would, um, perhaps enjoy it," I whispered uncertainly. "I just wanted to explore this with you. I swear, that's all." Those last words were barely audible, as I trailed into silence.

"But you imgained me on my knees, not you, correct?" you pressed. "Was there ever a time when it was you before me, when you did what I commanded?"

"No," I admitted. "You were always my slave. Even when you whipped me, you did it because I told you to. I never imagined that you would be so, so..."

I faltered. I wasn't even sure how to explain or label your demeanor.

Furious? Yes.

Violent? Yes.

So full of sensual threat? YES.

Turning slightly to the left, you reached down and scooped up the crop and whip. You pointed at the blindfold and eased back from me a bit. I obeyed your unspoken command and grabbed the scrap of black stain. The cuffs clanged as I slipped the mask over my eyes.

You brushed the tops of my breasts lightly with the ends of the whip. I shivered at the unfamiliar caress. Your voice was knowing as you asked me, "Have you never felt the kiss of the whip? The sting of the crop? Has your virgin skin never received a lash or spank? Tsk tsk. You truly were playing with fire, weren't you? Did you actually believe you could pull it off? Act the dom while hiding a naive innocence behind your foolish facade?"

I could only blush at the truth of your words, the idiocy of my naivete. Had I really expected to be able to do it, to control you?

"Get on your knees. I want you to crawl like a good girl to my room. That is," you asked, "I presume, where your little fantasy was going to occur?" Oh lord, you hadn't even seen the bedroom yet. What would you think once you saw what I did?

I nodded down to the floor, humiliated. The wooden boards were hard against my knees as I slowly obeyed your order to kneel. How had this happened? It was supposed to be you on the floor, you bound and blind. I was supposed to be the one with the power, the one in control. How dare you take that from me!

My thoughts must have shown through my hesitation, for suddenly I felt a lash across my chest and your voice was hard as you spoke.

"So, you think this is unfair, do you? You think that I should be the one on my knees? Let me tell you, my pet, that the moment you started your little game, the moment you decided to challenge me, you had already lost. You will be punished for breaking into my house. You will be whipped for your insolence and your unmitigated gall to actually assume that I would ever bow down to you.

You know absolutely nothing about this game. And I feel it is my duty as your new master to show you your place. Don't. Ever. Try. To. Surprise. Me. Again. Now, get on all fours and start crawling to the bedroom. And don't worry, little one," you added with a laugh, "I won't let you run into a wall. I am your master. And you will trust me to take care of you. If you crawl too slow, I will know you don't trust me. And you will be punished for your lack of faith."

Though I tried to believe you, to trust you, I faltered. It is instinctual to be cautious when blind, and I slowed down in automatic reaction. At my hesitance, you immediately brought the crop down on my exposed butt cheeks. It wasn't a hard slap, yet I whimpered nonetheless at the alien sensation. My body tensed as I waited for the next blow. I awkwardly tried to hurry towards the vicinity of your room.

"Stop," you said, and I obeyed.

"What have we here?" you murmured. "A boudoir of seduction? A bower of passion? A chamber of sensual pleasure? Is that how you envisoned it, a few slaps, a few lashes? Perhaps some sexy torture tied to the bed? Did you truly expect to tie me to that machine? To whip me at your leisure? Was I grateful to you? Did I sob my need to you in broken whispers? Did I ultimately thank you for the pleasure you so thoughtfully bestowed upon my flesh? Did I pleasure you in every way you could imagine? Tell me, love, when we finally came together, when I was finally lodge between your thighs, was it a beautiful experience? Did you imagine a hazy vision of sated lovers and sweet words?"

I hated that you seemed to know what I had dreamed--and you mocked it, mocked me.

Furious and ashamed, I started to rise, but the sting of the whip returned to my breasts. Startled, I abandoned my attempt at indignation. I was totally at your mercy. I was completely bound to do your will. I was utterly powerless to stop you from whipping my flesh to a lovely red glow.

I realized with a start that in the back of my mind, this was what I had wanted. This was what I had really wanted to feel. But I dared not admit that shameful realization to you. It was the one secret I would keep, the one thing I would hide within my soul.

The punishment began...

To be continued...