The Pain and Pleasure Journals

Second Training Session.

So many thoughts ran through my head as I unpacked the enema bag and stared at the thick nozzle. This time I spread two towels on the floor. It's a porcelain tile floor and it's cold. I hate cold. I dreaded the enema process, yet I knew I had no choice. If this intimate ordeal was horrid in the privacy of my own bathroom….it would be unbearable to have it done to me once I arrived at the farm…….some choice.

I had given my consent though and had known of this requirement from the very beginning. It was uglier and more painful than I had imagined it would be. Even though some deep, dark part of me wanted and needed to be used and controlled, I hadn't accepted or come to terms with this part of my conditioning.

Later, when I sat down to my journal, I decided to skip over another description of the enema process. It was just too awful and distasteful and just…….just…..I couldn't find the words to express the humiliation I felt when I did this to myself. It was like everyone KNEW what was going on in my bathroom when I………God, it made it hard to face them….knowing that they knew what I had just finished doing to myself.

This time I arrived at the farm with time to spare. I was bathed, shaven smooth, thoroughly cleaned inside and out… but again…like the first time, I had to sit in the car for a few minutes, gathering my strength and courage. I took slow, deep, calming breaths. My back, ass and upper thighs were still red and striped from the discipline on Monday. I was not sore and hot to the touch anymore, still, I was praying that I wouldn't be flogged or punished again on my backside. As before, Master James met me just inside the door and this time I lowered my eyes immediately and kept them glued to the floor.

"It goes well with you, girl?"

I wasn't sure what he meant by that but assumed he was asking me how I was.

"I'm fine, Master James, I hope it goes well with you."

I was thinking to myself they have a funny way of talking around here for being in Minna-sooota and fighting the urge to laugh. I brought myself up short, feeling guilty for this urge to be sarcastic. It was smart-assed and disrespectful. Somehow, it seemed that Master James had read my thoughts. His voice became colder and his tone sharper.

"Take your clothes off, girl and present yourself to us for inspection."

This time I folded my clothes in neat piles and without being told as soon as I entered the dungeon I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled to the platform. The three of them were there, seated and waiting. I took the presenting position in front of Master Robert, as he was seated in the middle. They let me kneel there for several long minutes with no one saying a word. My knees were aching after a minute or two. The wooden floor was hard and I could feel the start of a cramp in my thigh. 'Oh, no. Please, no.' I was praying it would not happen as I had to be still.

Master Robert got up first and curled his hand in my hair. He pulled my head back, my face up.

"Open your mouth up wide, girl. Did you clean all that cum outta your mouth?"

He bent his face close to mine and peered into my mouth. He held out two of his big fingers.

"Suck."

I leaned toward him and took his fingers into my mouth. I ran my tongue between them. I sucked, making little soft sucking noises as I rocked forward and back. I sucked as if his fingers were a fat cock I was striving to please.

"Yessss" I moaned through my stuffed mouth.

He grunted his approval and slipped his fingers out. For once he hadn't criticized me. Master James took his place. His hands cupped my breasts and his thumbs teased my nipples. They quickly filled to his touch and he SQUEEZED. My body jerked out of position but they seemed merely to enjoy the evidence of my discomfit. His one hand kept tugging and pinching my right nipple while his other hand cupped my cunt. I was wet. Nipple play makes me so wet. His fingers slipped up through my slit and inside. Again, I was commanded by a single word.

"Suck."

I tried my best to make a mouth of my cunt. My hips started moving, rocking, grinding down onto his fingers. I strove to clasp the fingers with my inner muscles.

"That's it, slut, prove that your cunt wants to be fucked."

His other hand was twisting the ring on my nipple and the hurt felt good. My cunt squeezed his fingers. Squeezed down, then relaxed and sucked at them. There were wet slurping sounds when he started fucking them in and out of me. The length of his thumb was rubbing my clit. I groaned when my hot cream started to flow over his hand. He pulled out. I was left aching and gasping, one second from cumming. Before he got up, he wiped his fingers on my face and slipped them in my mouth. I had to suck and clean them despite the fact that they had denied me my cum.

"Good girl. Such a good slut you are."

All this praise was so different from that first night. I knelt there, gasping and flushed from the need of my body following my near orgasm. It was embarrassing to be there on my knees, panting, like an animal in heat.

Master Michael circled me and then stopped behind me. He put his hand on the back of my collarless neck and began pushing me forward. He said he was showing me a new kneeling position and that from now on when I was told to present my ass, this was the position I'd be expected to adopt. My knees were already spread the required shoulder width apart and as he pushed me forward he turned my head to the left and pressed my cheek to the floor. He told me to put my arms straight out ahead of me as if begging for Master's attention and to keep my ass raised up high in the air.

In this position I could feel the draft of air in the room flowing over my ass and wet cunt. I felt so wide open, so exposed and so vulnerable that even with all that had gone before, I felt myself blushing. There was nothing hidden from view and Master Michael began rubbing his hand over my ass cheeks as if inspecting the marks that were still there from his flogging two days ago.

"You mark well, girl, did it make you feel proud to wear these marks of mine?"

"Yes, Master Michael." I whispered.

In that moment I realized I was speaking the truth. I must have looked at my ass and my back and my thighs a hundred times in the mirror. Each time I did feel a sense of awe and pride that I had been able to endure it and that he had worked so hard to mark me in such a beautiful way. The marks were criss-crossed and as perfectly laid on my skin as if an artist had carefully painted them on. They were not random but created a pattern that was striking each time that I looked at it. Not only that but each time I looked it reminded me of why they were there, of what they represented. That I was a slut whose sole purpose was to please through submission and obedience.

His fingers began stroking and teasing back and forth over my dark, puckered hole. On every third or fourth stroke slipping much farther forward gently up through my swollen labia. So far each of the Masters had been very cand rocking and pressing into Master Michael's fingers. I felt something cool and slick being massaged all around my anal ring and then his finger began pressing into me. He began working the slick lube into my hole. More lube and a little more of his finger each time. I groaned and pressed back. With his whole finger in, I clenched down on it. He wiggled it, curled it, twisted it, keeping it deep inside me until he felt me relax. The finger was removed only to be quickly replaced by the tip of a plug. Softer but bigger than the one I had experienced during my first session.

"Aghhhh."

I moaned as it pressed in past the ring of tight muscle. As it was worked into me, I realized that it was in the shape of a cock. He held it half way in for a moment and then began gently fucking it in and back out. He continued until the ache and the burn went away. All at once, with one push, it was all the way in me, buried deep. I felt searing a heat as it stretched and filled my tunnel. My body was rocking, my ass wiggling and my hips moving in circles. Involuntarily, I tried to expel it but it was in deep. It fitted so tightly that it was there to stay until he removed it. Gradually the burning again faded but the aching fullness remained. Master Mark wiped his hands on my ass cheeks and gave me a sharp smack on my right cheek with his hand before he got up.

"Good girl." He said, "You're a good little ass slut."

(I wonder, as I write this, that so early in my training such praise from him made me feel so proud and good.)

It was then that Master James asked me if I wished to speak freely about anything. Did I have any concerns? Had I anything to confess? There I was, on my knees, with my cheek pressed to the boards and my stuffed ass in the air. There I was, with my sweaty body shaking from need and suddenly I was forced to wrench my mind from the haze of lust it had slipped into. My gut clenched because I did have something to tell him. I had failed to record the first session in my journal. Several factors had contributed to my lapse. The long hours I'd worked, the fatigue, my worry over this training and the fact that I'd had a cold and just felt rotten. Still, I had no really valid excuse. Just a bunch of little ones and the truth was that I'd had the time but just didn't want to. I hadn't wanted to relive my ordeal by setting it down on paper. I had confessed to my Dom already and received punishment from him. He had instructed me to catch up the journal by the weekend and to wear clover clamps on my nipples and clit while I made the entries. I was to write an entry admitting the real reason I had allowed the journal to slip behind. He had also instructed me to inform Master James of my failure.

"Yes, please, Master James, may I be allowed to speak freely?"

I was still presenting my ass, very open and vulnerable. It was frightening to be making a confession in such a helpless position.

"Yes, girl, permission granted. You may speak."

I couldn't help it, my voice started shaking.

"Sir, I haven't been faithful in keeping up with my journal as both you and Sir told me to do."

There was a silence and then he asked if I could offer good reason. I knew that my excuses were feeble at best and that offering them would likely bring me more trouble. It might have seemed that I was not taking responsibility for what I'd done

"No Sir, Master James I have no good excuse." I finally whispered.

"It is good that you have told me. Your honesty builds my trust in you. You still must be punished though. Prepare yourself mentally to take it and it will go better."

I closed my eyes tight in acceptance and tried not to let him see my fear. He stepped behind me and trailed something that felt like leather of some kind down my back.

"How many days is it that you have let your journal fall behind?"

I counted 5 days in my mind.

"Five days, Master James."

"Then you will receive five lashes on your inner thighs with my crop. One for each day and one more for disobeying me and one beyond that for disobeying your Dom. Spread yourself wider and count as you have been told. Girl you will learn that your only choice is to obey and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be on you."

With that he stepped back and I spread my knees as wide apart as I could. My hips ached with the strain as I waited with closed eyes. Tense and filled with fear and dread. When the first strike came, it came hard and I heard the crop displace the air an instant before I felt it. I screamed out with the pain. It was the worst yet. It bit into the softest part of my inner thigh, near my cunt. My body jerked forward and my eyes welled up.

"One……aghhhh! Thank you, Master James. Please give me another." I forced the words from myself.

The second stroke came and then the third, so hard, so fucking hard that I thought I would die with the pain. They were all delivered on the same thigh, the left one, it was beyond agony. The last four came on my right thigh. A searing, burning, pain beyond pain. Although I was thanking him, counting the strokes and asking for more, my words were meaningless sounds in my mind.

Later, as I wrote of this in my journal, my inner thighs were so raw and welted that I sat with spread legs and could wear no clothes lest the material touch me. I cried just trying to rub lotion into them to soothe them.

"Remember this lesson," was all that he said.

It was strange; it was almost as if there was sadness in him when he said it. There was a deep sadness in me also. I felt unworthy for having been so lazy and willful regarding my journals. I was sorry, so sorry. I wanted to do better. I wanted to please these men and Sir. I want to be proud of who I am.

They allowed me to rest for a few minutes like that and then I was helped up to my knees by Master Michael and given cool water to drink. My voice was still hoarse and raspy from laryngitis and my past week's cold. Twice Master Michael asked me if I was ok or if I felt ill. He even put his hand on my forehead once, as if to check for a fever. It was an insignificant gesture and yet to me it made me feel that they really did care.

"If you feel ill we will not continue." He said

Suddenly, I had a choice. A temporary reprieve if I chose to take it. It made it all the harder for me to stay and endure. The weak me wanted desperately to take the out I was being offered but in the end it was the needy me that finally answered.

"No, Master Michael. Thank you, I'm really ok."

"Are you prepared to receive your discipline, girl?"

I nodded and was helped to my feet and led to the far wall. Walking was hard with the larger plug inside my ass and the angry red welts on my thighs burning. I was forced to move in an ugly embarrassing waddle to ease the hurt.

When we reached the wall, Master Michael backed me up against it and told me to present my wrists to him to be cuffed. With my eyes lowered, I held my arms out in front of me and watched as he placed leather cuffs on each wrist. One at a time he stretched my arms out to the side and fastened the cuffs to big heavy rings mounted into the wall above me. My shoulders ached with the strain. My arms were stretched very tight and I was lifted up almost onto my tiptoes. It gave an uncomfortable arch to my back and my chest was thrust out more than normal. He knelt down in front of me and attached ankle cuffs to each ankle and one at a time moved each leg wide to the side and attached the cuffs to large rings near the floor. His large hands with their thick fingers were gentle as they secured me. The mix of power and gentleness in his touch somehow calmed me. As he stood up his hands caressed up my body. The mere grazing of his fingers over the welts on my inner thighs drew a groan from me before I could stop it. I made a guttural noise when his finger moved up thru my slit, stopping to make a small circle over my hard, hungry clit. With eyes still lowered I watched his hand move over the flat of my belly and felt a tightening deep inside when he touched me there. Both hands were on me then, cupping under each breast and lifting them as if weighing them, squeezing and kneading them. His huge thumbs teased my nipples at the base of my rings. My head went back to the wall and I arched out as much as I could when he lowered his head and began sucking each one.

"Ohhhh godddddddd, Master Michael."

I was panting as he moved from one to the other and back sucking and licking and gently biting. Then it became a slow steady suction, his mouth wide open,

almost engulfing my whole breast. He was intent upon the left one at first. Working it, sucking it harder and harder till the nipple felt huge. When he pulled away my breast was shiny and wet from his mouth. He moved to the right one, repeating the process, all the while still pinching and tugging the left nipple with his right hand. My moans became continuous, my ass ground back hard to the wall and I thrust my chest out to him till my shoulders were screaming from the stress.

Just as quickly as it all started it stopped. He stepped back and Master James moved to me, bringing one hand up to cup my right breast, and before it registered what he had in his hand, he had closed a clover clamp over my nipple. It bit in with more pleasure than pain. Next he clamped the right one. He reached behind him and pulled a strip of material out of his pocket. He tied it over my eyes and my world became a black velvet darkness.

"No, please…"

There was no reply. I felt unbalanced in the dark and I pressed back to the security of the wall.

"Ahhhhhhhh."

Someone was hanging weights from the clamps and now they were biting in harder and tugging my breasts down. My frantic twitching only served to further stretch my poor nipples and increase my pain. Every nerve in my body seemed centered in my abused nipples. Master James was still there. I smelled him and felt the heat from his body. At last the numbness set in and there was some relief. It was short lived. He must have sensed my relief. He flicked the weights or tugged on the clamps and the agony started allover again.

Then I felt the strikes, light taps at first, stinging taps on my nipples of each tortured, hot breast. Leather, it was leather again, strands of it, smacking, striking down over each breast. This was torture, agony; the leather came down harder faster, again and again. The weights were swinging and pulling the clamps which bit so hard it seemed they would cut through my nipples. I screamed and then begged and pleaded.

"Unnnnghhh. No more pleaseeeeeeeee. I can't take anymore."

But it didn't stop, there was no easing up and I was bucking and thrashing. I strained futilely against the thick rings holding me to the wall. Then the voice, Master James' voice, filtered through the red haze of my agony.

"Accept it, slut, go with the pain. Welcome the gift of your discipline."

It went on and on, till my breasts felt like they were being whipped and pulled off my chest.

Then something changed. After that it got misty. It was like I was in some other place. A place with cool breezes, a cool soothing ocean. I was flying, drifting, soaring, so warm and so free. Maybe I fainted, I couldn't be sure but the next thing I was really aware of, was my mouth being opened and something that felt like a round plastic ball being pushed back onto my tongue. I felt it being fastened behind my head.

"We are leaving you here, girl, to think about who you are."

Footsteps disappearing, fleeting panic, brief struggle, then blessed total acceptance. Giving up, giving in, welcoming the heat, the gift of the pain. It was like I was outside looking in on myself, seeing so clearly the woman I could become. My breasts were throbbing with every beat of my heart. My ass felt on fire, as if the plug had expanded inside me. My thighs burned even hotter as my slippery juices and sweat oozed over them, heating the welts up even more. So alive…I felt so incredibly alive. I knew with crystal clarity that these sensations were the lesson. A voice within chanted to me… accept it, welcome it, see who you are, acknowledge the beauty and the power of your submission. There is no greater purpose than serving, than giving pleasure, than offering up every wonderful, special part of your being, heart, body, mind and soul, as a gift to be cherished and used, no greater purpose than pleasing.

Time passed but I was not aware of its passing. I felt hands removing the gag, then the weights and the clamps. Vivid flashes of white hot pain in my unseeing eyes as the blood filled my nipples again, shocking me from my trance. At last the blindfold came off, it was Master James and he cupped my chin in his hand, while my eyes struggled to focus.

"You may look at me, girl…. Who are you?... Answer me!"

His eyes are deep green, like my own and I looked into them, searching for myself in their reflection. Held by his dark, unwavering gaze, I answered him from my heart.

"I am a submissive. I am a slut, to be used."

My heart filled with the deepest joy when the trace of a smile passed over his face. I saw his approval in the way his eyes lightened and his gaze relaxed.

Once again a cool glass of water was held to my lips and I drank and drank till the big glass was nearly empty. Master Robert and Master James released the wrist and ankle cuffs. They lifted me between them and carried me to a wide padded table and laid me on it. Master Robert eased a soft pillow under my head. I winced when he brushed over my nipples and gave my rings a gentle tug. The cuffs were still on me and once again my arms were secured to the sides of the table. Looking up there was a track in the ceiling with three pulleys spaced evenly over the table, and Master Mark stepped up to my feet and began lowering ropes. He held a thick metal bar with rings on each end to which he attached the ankle cuffs. This spread my legs wide apart again. He slipped the big hook at the end of the rope over the bar and began raising my legs up off the table. Higher and higher till my legs were straight up and my ass was lifted up off the table.

"Time for you endure the fire and ice, girl." Master Michael said.

My heart nearly stopped beating. I knew what that meant and I opened my mouth to beg but his look stopped me cold. My thoughts were racing and my heart was pounding out of my chest. I hate ice. I hate being cold. It was one of the limits I had set and they knew that. How could they do this? I thought that was the purpose of filling out the check list they had given me at the very beginning. I felt the anger welling up in me. I felt betrayed after thinking I could trust them not to force me beyond the limits we had set. It had been hard enough to go as far as I had. The longer I lay there, watching the three of them gather equipment, thick candles, lighters and a whole cooler filled with ice, the more angry I became. The words poured out of me,

"You bastards! Let me up! Untie me right now. I want out of here! This isn't fair. You promised when we did the check list. I told you I wouldn't do this! LET ME GO!"

This was a deal breaker. It wasn't fair. All those floating feelings of sweet submission were gone in the flash of my anger. Struggling and yanking at the cuffs, I clamped my mouth shut when Master Robert pressed the ball gag to my mouth again. The bastard pinched my nose shut and no matter how I tossed my head side to side he didn't let go. The second my mouth opened to gasp for air, that awful gag went into my mouth, and I was FURIOUS because he was laughing. They were all laughing.

"That shut the bitch up," He said to Master James.

He leaned over me and put his face just inches from mine.

"Girl, when we're finished your sweet ass is gonna feel the palm of my hand. Now you just think about that before you EVER call any of us a bastard again."

His hand closed over my breast and he squeezed hard. I wanted to scream. He meant it to hurt and it did. God, it did. Even with all the anger it was obvious that there was no use in struggling. All I was succeeding in doing was making it worse for myself. All the fight just went out of me and I sank back down on the table, resigned, knowing that if they wanted it, it would happen. I would be better off preparing myself than dwelling on the injustice of it.

I closed my eyes and tried to take my mind to a place of acceptance. My eyes flew open though when I felt the cock plug being pulled out of my ass. It came out with a wet, slurping sound against the suction of my clenching muscles. My groan was muffled behind the fat gag and my jaw ached from being held open. My tight hole didn't feel very tight anymore. It felt very open. Master Michael had his finger in my hole, slipping in and out easily now. I heard the clinking of ice and he began slipping ice into my gaping anus. One, then two, three, four, five, round balls of ice down into my raised ass. Oh sweet holy Christ. I was freezing inside and my gut was clutching and clenching. My suspended ass bucked in the air above the table. My frantic movements only caused the melting ice to slide deeper. He slipped two more in and the freezing cold was turning into fire as it froze me inside. Because of the angle of my body, with my legs lifted up, the cold water from the melting ice flowed down through my belly. It was an ice water enema, the cramping was starting. Master Michael was massaging my labia and my clit, with chunks of the ice. Having packed my ass, Master Robert began rubbing a ball of it over my nipples. Master James had been lighting a tray of many colored candles. He picked up a red one. Master Michael spread more ice up thru my labia. He started pushing them deep into my cunt, one at a time, working them in deep with two fingers. I lost count of how many, all I know is that I felt full. I was completely stuffed with nuggets of freezing cold. The burning sensation started and grew until it was deep in my womb.

"Aghhhh,"

I bucked up as the first drop of burning hot wax splashed on my nipple. It felt hotter than it was in contrast to the extreme cold within me. How I wished now that I had opted out when they had offered me the chance. One drop after the other dripped over my breasts. He kept changing candles, first one color and then another. Painting me with the molten wax. Holding them closer, then higher, warm and then hotter and then searing heat. Having iced down my cunt, Master Michael picked up a candle and let the wax drip on my clit. He covered my swollen pale labia, my belly, and my bare mound. He let it drip over my sore open hole until it was sealed off with a puddle of wax. Six hands, six big hands touched, squeezed and stroked my body. They pinched rock hard, sore nipples and teased my hard, swollen clit. Their fingers fucked in and out of my freezing cold cunt and ass. The cold water was so deep in me that I had become a frozen core wrapped in blazing skin. The tip of a vibrating dildo was held right on my clit for a moment and then it slid deep in my cunt. Back it came and again it attacked my clit. Hands were massaging my belly, smearing it with my juices, my slut cream and ice water. In and out, the fucking motion of the dildo vibrated the ice in my body. Against my will, the being within me had begun to respond to the powerful stimuli attacking my senses from every direction. My clit swelled and I found myself straining up to the fat dildo. There was no stopping it; I was hung on the edge momentarily and then toppled over into an orgasmic abyss. Cumming, cumming, freezing and burning, half of me a chilled puddle and the other half a pile of ashes. Master Michael held the tip of the dildo right there on my clit vibrating the whole time I was cumming and it became the sweetest most exquisite agony. Drained, I hung there with my collapsed weight on my shoulders. Before he lowered my legs, Master Michael worked the cock plug back into my ass again. I was just conscious enough to be grateful that with it in me, I would at least be spared the humiliation of an accident.

The gag was removed on the condition that I didn't speak the rest of the night unless spoken to. My body was lowered back to the table and the cuffs taken off. The cold water ran out of my cunt and pooled underneath me in a cold puddle. As the ice had melted, the numbness was leaving and to be replaced by a hot stinging as my body slowly warmed.

Master Robert pulled up a chair close to the table and sat down on it.

"Girl, I think we have a date. Get your ass down here and lay over my lap."

I was exhausted from the long ordeal and from cumming so hard. The pain I had endured and emotional roller coaster I'd been forced to ride had left me so weak that it was all I could do to get up off the table.

"On your knees, girl, and crawl to me like the slut that you are," Master Robert demanded.

When my feet hit the floor, I eased down to my knees with every muscle aching. I crawled to him, pressed my cheek to the floor and lifted my ass without being told. He let me stay there like that for a long minute and then said,

"Over my lap."

He guided me into position over his meaty thighs. The tips of my toes just touched the floor and my head hung down. His hands parted my thighs till my ass was exposed and wide open to him.

"Tell me why you are being punished again."

My voice was flat, there was no emotion left in me,

"Because my words were disrespectful. Because I disobeyed and because I was angry."

"There will be no need to count. I don't want to hear one sound from your mouth until I tell you to speak."

His big hand started coming down hard on my cheeks. Loud slaps and smacks that echoed all through the barn. Each one was leveled with force, one after the other. His hand arcing up and coming down hard. I was choking back my cries. I could feel every one of his handprints. He would come down over and over in one place before moving on to another, till my whole ass was covered. Every so often he came down hard right on the plug slamming it deeper in my ass and sending new tongues of fire through me. Finally it stopped. He was panting from the effort and I was sobbing openly. He pushed me off of his lap to the floor. I immediately kneeled with my ass up in the air again. His hand twisted down in my hair and he pulled my face up to his crotch.

"Now you better pleasure me, slut."

His thighs were parted and he had already unzipped his jeans. He pulled his cock out. I have never had a black cock before. Not that it mattered. His was still soft but thick and his balls were large and covered with tight curly wiry hair.

As he guided me closer I could smell his male scent, his sweaty tang. I opened my mouth wide and took his balls in my mouth. He groaned and thrust out at me and

I let my tongue start working its magic. I licked underneath and all around. I sucked and tugged softly at them with the bridge of my nose pressing into his cock. Still sucking, I rolled them around in my mouth. I leaned back to pull them out from his body, then let my tongue stroke under them, licking up and down from his sac to his crack.

"Ohhhh fuckkk yess," He moaned.

His swollen balls slipped out of my mouth and plopped back to his body. Leaning in quickly again, I flattened my tongue and dragged it straight up that thick vein to the tip of his shaft. Gripping his cock in my hand, I squeezed it. I held his cock while my tongue licked back and forth over his slit. The head of his dark, purplish cock contrasted with the pearly precum as it oozed out. Pumping and squeezing him, I licked up every drop as fast as I milked it out. I cupped his balls in my free hand and gently squeezed them at the same instant my mouth closed over his oozing tip. I sucked, softly at first with my tongue vibrating over his cum hole as I started stroking him. Harder and faster I went, squeezing and milking him all the while. I wanted to swallow him, to suck out all the cum in his balls. I began bobbing up to the tip and coming down more every time, until I was gagging on his thickness. He was pushing my head down and thrusting up into my mouth. I swallowed and relaxed my throat to take him. His cock tip went deep in my throat. He twisted his hand in my hair again and slammed me down on him. I sucked hard until my cheeks dimpled in. He was holding me there fucking my throat. I felt his balls tighten and the cum rising up in him. He pulled back and exploded all over my face and my hair. Three thick, gooey spurts splashed my forehead and my cheeks. He leaned back in the chair panting. His cock gave a last jerk when I closed my mouth softly over it, licking gently, lapping up every drop. His cum was salty and tangy.

"That's enough, girl," He pushed me back. "You let my cum dry on your body. Wear it home. Don't wash it off till tomorrow. You may shower first thing in the morning."

I spoke then without permission as I knelt before him.

"Thank you, Master Robert for your punishment, for the gift of your cum. I am honored to wear your cum, Master Robert."

For once I didn't get in trouble for speaking spontaneously. Master Michael came up behind me.

"That's all for tonight. You may go. As further punishment for your disobedience tonight, you are not allowed to touch yourself in a pleasurable way. You are not allowed to cum until we have a chance to speak with your Dom and see what length of time he suggests. Now go into the bathroom, take the plug out and clean it and leave it there, then you may get dressed and leave."

I nodded and within twenty minutes, I was limping to my car. Almost six hours had passed. It was after 11 p.m.

Retrospective

When I came upon the phrase "Cherished submissive", in my own handwriting, it caused me to laugh aloud. I recalled vividly the first time I had been "cherished". It had not been long after the incident at the Farmer's market.

"La Boheme" had been playing at the opera and he had arranged tickets for us. An early dinner at a new restaurant had also been planned. He had arrived somewhat early, I'd promised to hurry and went into my bathroom to put the finishing touches on my make up. I'd emerged to find him sitting on my bed with my vibrator in his hand. I knew it had been in the bedside drawer and the thought that he had invaded my privacy was just forming when his voice interrupted me.

"What the fuck is this?" He'd demanded harshly.

It had been said as though he had discovered me with another man as opposed to an inanimate sex toy. His anger was so unexpected that I could only stammer as he glared at me.

"I don't satisfy you? Your slut's cunt is so constantly needy that you will resort to something like this to quiet it?"

Before I'd had a chance to answer, he'd pulled me into the front room and flung me into the antique rocker my Aunt had willed me.

"Darling, I…" I'd begun.

"Shut up and take off your panty hose."

I had struggled out of them under his glaring eyes, while he'd waited with his hand out. The only cogent thing in my mind during all this had been the inane thought that we would probably not have time for dinner. After I'd handed him my panty hose he used them to tie me into the rocker. The small ivory pen knife he always carried had been used to divide the nylon into the four parts he had needed to tightly bind my wrists and ankles. When he had slipped the sharp little blade under the neckline of the new dress I had bought for the occasion, I was shocked out of my confusion. With me yelling and cursing at him the whole while, he had methodically sliced open my garmet and yanked it from me. In my helpless frustration, I'd

suddenly recalled all of the little slights he had recently taken to stinging me with and began paying him back, calling him every foul thing I could think of. He had cut loose and tossed away my bra and had just tugged my panties up through my crotch. He'd started to send them after the bra but my foul mouth had changed his mind and he'd packed them into my screaming mouth. While I had yanked ineffectually at the tight nylon and tried uselessly to push the panties from my mouth with my tongue he had taken up the phone and the directory. After a short perusal, he had dialed and sat down on the sofa.

He'd spoken my address into the phone and then gave whoever he was speaking to what sounded like a credit card number. With the phone back in its cradle, he had sat with his legs crossed and after gazing across at me impassively for a moment, had picked up a magazine.

I gave up struggling as the futility of it had sunk in. My eyes had welled up in frustration and I was crying freely by then. I'd looked at him pleadingly through my tears but he'd ignored me, glancing up from the magazine only to check his watch. Some thirty minutes must have passed, though at the time it had seemed an eternity, when the door chime had sounded. He had opened my door to a smartly dressed, attractive young woman. I remember exactly the hot flush that had spread over me when he'd walked her across my own carpet to gaze down on me.

"This is Marcia. She is a whore but she is an honest whore. She saves her juices for her clients. She is not a sneaky slut who squanders her essence on one of these." He was showing her the vibrator as he had berated me. "Marcia will accompany me to the opera . I'd rather be seen with an honest whore on my arm than a selfish, sneaky slut. You can spend the evening here with your friend."

He had turned on the vibrator and shoved it roughly into my exposed cunt and then set the chair in motion with a shove of his foot. I was left there, bound, with the vibrator buzzing away between my spread thighs. He had gathered his overcoat and escorted the whore to the door. I will never forget the smug, amused smile on her pretty face as she had paused on her way out to glance over her shoulder at me. It was the contempt I read in her eyes, as I helplessly rocked, backward and forward with that buzzing plastic wand up my cunt, that did it. With mocking eyes still on me I began to orgasm.

Shit! Get a load of that , baby. The slut is cumming."

Her words had only made it more intense. The door had closed off the sound of their laughter and I had been left alone.

It had been a long, lonely evening. The batteries in the vibrator had died and my swollen eyes had finally cried themselves dry by the time he returned. The whole evening, as I'd waited, my mind had been consumed by the fear that he would bring her home with him. I'd had visions of him fucking her on my sofa while she laughed at me. My anger had exhausted itself with my tears and when he'd returned alone the only emotion that remained to me had been relief.

He had untied me with little murmurings of concern and it had been me, instead of the whore, Marcia, on the sofa whom he had fucked senseless. Later, I had told him that I was sorry and that I would never use the vibrator again. He had stroked my hair and said that he knew I wouldn't., that I was a good girl and had learned my lesson. That was when he had said it.

"I only punished you because I cherish you so completely."