tagBDSMTwo Sides, One Story

Two Sides, One Story


You notice that My favourite wine has run out and you should have replaced it during the day, but forgot.

I always have a glass with dinner, and have done for as long as you can remember.

Dusk is falling, and you know you are not allowed out when the street lamps are on, it happened once before and the thought of the price you paid makes you cringe.

The decision is made as you rush out of the door, the wine store only 2 blocks away, you will do it easy.

As you enter the store the owner acknowledges you, one of Sirs good friends, you pick up 2 bottles and go to pay.

You join the queue, keeping one eye on the drifting daylight.

At last your turn, you pay and go to leave.

The exit is blocked by 4 youths who make your exit impossible.

A bottle in each hand makes you vulnerable as a hand reaches under your jumper and cups your breast, another youth pats your bottom.

A flash and the street lamps take it in turn as they light up the streets, your heart misses a beat.

You look to the counter and see the owner on the phone and looking your way, as if talking about you.

A hand touches your crotch and you jump backwards and tears fill your eyes, you gather inner strength and force your way out of the store.

Not looking back you run as fast as you can chasing daylight, but to no avail.

At last you arrive home, in your hurry you had forgotten to take a key.

You lift your hand to access the knocker, at the same time you see the door handle being pushed down and the door begins to open.

You see the back of your Master as the door swings open, as if it is a revolving door.

Stepping inside you close and then drop the catch lock on the door.

All you can hear is your heart thumping in your chest like a bass drum... Your breath struggling to keep you on your feet.

Trembling hands you put His wine on the hall stand as you change from outdoors to indoor footwear.

Now unsteady feet walk towards the kitchen with His wine, a bottle in each hand. Opening the fridge door you place the wine into the door rack.

Your Master is the fairest and most sensitive man you could ever wish to meet.

He has sat down with you on hundreds of occasions to aid your training... Talking and listening, giving and taking He shows His loyalty to you.

In return he demands your loyalty, obedience and trust. Giving those three automatically entitles you to give and receive all his love.

Love is the basis of all relationships in this and most other Households.

The Master and Head of Household is the fairest of Sirs.

His rules and penalties could not be more simple and easy to understand and His guidance with the aid of correction and reminders the fairest you could ever wish for.

Your breath returns to normal but your mind belongs to a Grand Prix.

4 years ago, almost to the day you were under similar circumstances, the squeak of tyres and you rushed to the door, just as a large black car went out of view.

As you went to close the door you saw a bundle in the road.

On closer inspection you found a small dog, which had been knocked down by the disappearing car.

A visit to the vet and a return home alone by the aid of the street lamps brought you in front of Sir.

It was explained to you of the seriousness of being outside, alone, by streetlight.

With only your top and skirt to remove you were soon ready for Sirs attention.

In such cases it was explained the security of a warm up spanking was dispensed with and your position attached to the ceiling hook was soon evidence of the seriousness of your actions.

The ankle spreader bar attached securely was also testament of the amount of trouble you were causing your Master.

A fact which you must remember when apologising at the end of your correction.

The long tailed whip covered every inch of your back to your waist whilst the medium strap took control of your tits nipples and midriff.

The cane made sure that you never forgot that visit to Sir`s study or the seriousness of being out after the agreed curfew.

Sir started with the intermediate cane, striping every 2 inches from your waist to your bottom crease on the back, and waist to your neatly shaved pussy on your front.

The thin tawse with the triple cuts at the end took care of everything else below the bottom.

Sirs attention to detail ensured no part of your body was neglected and the hour spent on the administration was indeed time well spent to ensure you would never have to endure Sir`s parting words after you had apologised to him, if you ever need to appear between Me on such a matter again, you will think your skin had been turned inside out.

As she was helped off the hook Sir must have noticed the glistening between her leg, and had heard the moans after each of the latter strikes of the tawse.

It was now time, time to visit the study Knock, knock...


Enter, I repeated, not really giving you chance to come in after the first command.

Your frightened body quietly comes into My sitting room.

You know the routine, particularly when you, a fully trained submissive lowers her demeanor to become a slave.

You remove your top and short skirt, your only allowed in door clothing, and you assume the Gor position of submission.

Kneeling down in front of me, back arched, tits sticking out proud, head held high, eyes lowered, knees wide apart and your hands upturned upon them, showing your availability.

A position that I know in different circumstances you love, but I see the sorrow etched in your face and eyes.

Knowing its not sorrow for your meager body, but sorrow in letting Me down, the second time in only 4 years.

I carry on reading, allowing you some thinking time.

I know it is not needed but as the Head of Household I know the importance of humiliation.

I allow a full hour, time for reflection but also time for me to lose any anger I may have had inside Me due to your disobedience.

As a HoH Dom, I never punish during anger.

I stand and make you jump at my movement as you awake from your trance.

I make a point of brushing against you as I walk to My cabinet and take out My leading cane.

Walking back to you i cut a stroke across your nipples, you stand immediately and I begin to walk to the punishment room.

Your breasts push onto My cane as I lead you. You know failure to keep attached to my leading cane will earn you 10 extra cuts across your nipples and breasts on the way to My room.

We enter the room and I see an extra shiver run through your body as I stand you before Me.

Your eyes full of tears and sorrow, but no fear, you know I am your Master and would never ever harm you, a strange parody for what is to unfold.

I hold out the cane and you take it in both hands and hold it in front of you, outstretched.

I leave you and adjust the height of My Catholic horse.

A triangular piece of rough wood suspended at each end to whichever height I want.

I come back for you and take you to the horse.

Your go behind your head into the chicken wing position, no need to shackle you in position.

The bar of the horse is made higher so that the angled piece of the wood is rested against your open pussy lips.

I finally adjust the wood height to be pressed firmly into your crotch.

Whilst on tip toes, no pain, but as you tire and rest onto the wood the pressure makes your lips will swell and bruise.

The look of acceptance in your face gives me the knowledge of your love for Me and the knowing in your mind that it is going to be a long evening.

I sit once again and read, the quietness of the room punctuated by my turning of pages, or your whimpering.

Every whimper of your discomfort is met with six cuts of My lead cane, 2 across each breast and 2 across the fullness of your bottom.

After each lesson I add to your humility by pulling on your lips and seeing how nicely swollen they are becoming.

The pain you suffer is not only reflected in your eyes but also between your legs.

As your toes tire so do the amount of lessons needed, over double a normal horse correction.

I lower your hands as your pussy lips make full contact with the rough angled wood, a perfect fit as the bruising has grown to match the exact shape of the wood.

The bar is lowered and you stand on unsteady legs, awaiting My next command.

I pick up my cane and lead you to the caning bench.

I have already decided on the Senior cane, maximum impact for minimum effort.

Walking in front of your bowed head i lay a stroke diagonally across your back. It is part of what we have, for Me to allow you to see the next stage of your punishment.

Your breathing becomes shallower as I take my position behind you.

My free hand touches your bottom, rubbing roughly, the omission of a warm up spanking leads me to want to have at the very least your nerve endings ready.

Reaching beneath you I feel your split wet pussy, the spanking bench gives no thought to modesty of the female body.

Taking my position, push my arm behind me, then allow it to rush forward at speed, WWHHOOSSHH CCRRAACCKK, each stroke finding its new temporary home across your bottom.

Each one leaving a white, red then crimson stain.

I hear the wind rush from your body and a stifled groan.

Standing back, the individual strokes have done their job, stripes in every direction begins to make a pattern.

Working back up and then back down your body again I fill in new areas with My skillful application. Giving plenty of time between each stroke for maximum effect.

I lay the cane down on the table and rub over the swelling stripes, I then return it to its place in the cabinet.

Once again I sit, only the sound of you catching your breath and your disguised sobs fill the room.

Given due time for you to compose I walk in front of you as you await instruction.

You stand for 15 minutes, your noise subsides.

Quarter of an hour passes as I speak for the first time and allow you to stand facing me.

As Head of Household I must maintain discipline in My home as a warning and lesson to others.

"You Are Forgiven"

I take you into my arms and encourage your tears as i rock you backwards and forward.

I cuddle your naked beaten body for over and hour till your tears subside into infrequent sobs.

Lifting up your chin i kiss your lips as if we were young lovers.

Setting you back onto the floor, i stand and leave the room...



It was with great regret that I had to issue such a severe beating. She had been in My Household for 7 years.

Whilst she had received her share of correction, as defined in My recorded punishment book, she was by no means the worst in our home.

Indeed some had almost double her entries.

She was the most loving, honest and trustworthy sub, but;

Her lacking of obedience was her downfall.

It was her second such incident since she had been with Me.

One can be construed as a mistake, but two is disobedience.

Sir was always very generous towards me. He gave me everything I could ever wish for, and more besides.

In all my years with Him I have loved and cherished the relationship as He as Head of Household and I as being in need of Taking in Hand.

A sub/slave needs daily guidance on which road to take and of which job is required.

I have been everything from stand in Housekeeper to Sir's bed warmer in the depths of winter.

It is with the greatest regret I caused Sir to have to take the time to beat me for my disobedience.

Nothing is ever as clear cut as it seems

Both stories were of the total love, trust, and respect, but lacked one essential ingredient, obedience.

Even though fully forgiven; a taxi removed her from my household the very next day to the place from which she came, who would give her a full years training before finding her a new placement.

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