When He Says No

It is the coolness in his voice that does it, the way he looks at me when he says, “No.  I told you ‘no,’ and you knew then that there would be punishment if you didn’t think I meant it.”

i can’t protest, the gag allows only moans, noises without form.  i bow my head.

“Down,” he says.

My wrists are cuffed, fastened in front of me, attached to the ring in the center of my collar.  Already on my knees, i bend at the waist, press my forehead to the floor.

From this position, his footsteps seem loud.  He paces a bit, back and forth, then moves behind me.  His crop taps me between my thighs, he doesn’t need to say a word, i scoot my knees farther apart so that i am more open, raise my ass higher.  There is no response from him, but i don’t expect any.

He paces behind me.

The whistle of the crop is the only warning before it falls, striking hard, leaving a slash of pain across the middle of my ass. It stings first and then begins to burn, he pauses just long enough for the burn to set in before he strikes again, above the first mark.

i can feel the welt rising.  i would scream if i could, but the gag allows only moans.

i manage to hold my position as the crop falls, this third time below the previous mark.  i know the next two will be diagonal.  i know that they will slash across the previous marks, the next two will cross in an “X,” and at every point where the marks intersect, the pain will be so concentrated as to be almost unbearable.

The next one brings tears, i have been holding back, trying to avoid the almost chocking sobs that will leave me snot-stained, but i can’t hold out and i am snorting and snuffling, the gag keeping me from breathing normally, and i struggle to stop.

He pauses while the pain blossoms, waits until i regain some control.

The fifth blow, the one that intersects with all the others undoes me.  My moan is low and guttural, i can’t make it stop and the pain spreads until i think it is going to be unbearable, except of course it isn’t, and just when i think i can’t stand it, it begins to recede, and i can almost breathe again when i realize that i am not in position anymore.

My head is up, my shoulders off the ground, i have raised up as if i am going to get up and walk away.  This is not an option.  Quickly, i lower my torso, press my head back to the floor, but i know, i know it’s too late.

i can feel him, still behind me.



“Two more,” he says.  His voice is still cool, he might be ordering two more drinks in some classy bar.  Only he’s not.  “On your thighs.  If you move – well, i guess we can do this for as long as it takes for you to get it right.”

As the next blow falls, the next slashing, stinging, burning pain hits and spreads across the back of both thighs, and i find it, the place i’ve needed to be, the moment when i give up and let him have me, letting go of my own desire and wanting only to serve.  It still hurts, it hurts so bad, and i can welcome it, as the next one falls, i know that i could take it all night if he wanted me to.

He does not want to, and now i am almost disappointed when he stops, when i hear him walk away.  i know the sounds behind me, the drawer that opens and closes, and then the cold lube between my ass cheeks.  He is generous with the lube and i’m grateful for that, but the butt plug is still big, i almost resist but i lean into it instead, forcing myself to be open, to accept this invasively full feeling as he slides it past the tight ring of my asshole, pushing until it is fully inserted.

The burn of the crop is already receding and now i am focused on my ass, still uncomfortable – as i should be, as he wants me to be.

He removes the gag, without speaking to me, turning my head to one side to slide it out without letting me up.

i hear the tiny click of the monitor as he turns it on, and i know he is going to leave me here.  i know i will be safe, and i will be alone.

“Up,” he says.  i kneel up, feeling my muscles flex and adjust around the butt plug.  “I’m going to put you in the corner,” he says.  “And I want you to practice saying to yourself, ‘If Master says it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault. Not everything is about me.’  I want you to say it about 10 times, and then you can take a break.  And when you start thinking again, when you notice that your mind is thinking beyond the butt plug and beyond wishing you could come out of the corner, you say it again.  About 10 more times.  Let me hear you now.”

i can’t look at him, i look at the floor, at my feet, but i say, “If Master says it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault. Not everything is about me.”

He offers me water – a glass with a straw and i drink eagerly, then he says, “Again, say it again, while you get in the corner there.”

“If Master says it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault. Not everything is about me.” i say, and halfway through the mantra, i am in the corner.

“Now, say it loudly enough that I can hear you over the monitor if I want to,” he says.  “Don’t be shy.  I’ll be back.”

i repeat it, “”If Master says it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault. Not everything is about me,” wondering how long i might be here.  But even so, i can hear the smile in my voice.




“…sheer disrespect.”

i barely hear the words, it’s the tone that makes me look up from my computer, and then the words register, and i think, “oh, shit.  i’m in trouble now.”

“Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

“i’m sorry, Sir -”

“Are you working?”

“No, Sir.  Not really.  Just, um, just reading an article.”  i am dismayed.  And disappointed in myself.  My goal this month is to be more attentive, to stop what i’m doing when he’s talking to me and give him my full attention.  This is the complete opposite of that.

“Corner time,” he says, “Clothes off first, please.”

i start to protest, “Sir -” and quickly change that to “Yes, Sir,” as i pull my shirt off, bra, and slide my pants down with the panties for efficiency.  At the least, i won’t be slow to obey.

Naked, face pressed to the corner, i can feel him behind me.  i wish he would touch me, i can’t tell what he’s doing.

“Hands behind your neck, open your legs,” he says. i remind myself this is for my benefit.  With my hands behind my neck, my breathing gets deeper, i feel calmer.  My open legs increase my awareness of my vulnerability, and the heat between my thighs reminds me that i like this.  i have, literally, asked for this.

“Think,” he says, “About what it means to be aware and to be responsive.  Did you think I was talking to myself?”

Actually, i did – he does talk to himself when he works, muttering things about data and timelines and queries.  And i may have learned to tune it out.  But i’m pretty sure this is not the time to mention that.

“Think,” he says, “About what you offer me, what it means to be open and receptive.  Not just your cunt and ass, available to be fucked.  Not just your mouth around my cock.  Think about what it means to keep your mind open to me too.”

“Think,” he says, “About the real point of this.  It’s not that I think what I have to say is that important.  The point is that you need to be attentive, to serve me.  And you need this structure,  and the discipline that follows when you don’t live up to the expectations.”

He leaves me there, i can feel him move away, hear him sit back down at his computer.  i wonder how long i’ll be in the corner.  i have a fleeting wish that i had finished the article before i got in trouble, but push that thought away to focus on the things he said.

It’s not the first time i’ve heard the list.  Aware, responsive, open, receptive, to attend and serve.  He’s right, those are the things i want to be.  i feel a rush of gratitude that he’s willing to correct me, to follow through when i fail to live up to the goals we’ve agreed on.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he says, “and lean into the corner a bit more.”

It’s a relief to bring my hands down and clasp them behind me.  i  take a step away from the wall and lean forward, which pushes my ass out as if i am offering it.  Which actually, i am, i suppose.  It’s an awkward position, and i adjust my stance, widening it, and move my shoulders to get more comfortable.

He comes up behind me again to inspect the position, running his hands over my hips and ass, down between my thighs.  i shudder with pleasure, pussy clenching.

He laughs.  “Keep thinking,” he says, and moves away again.

i think about belonging to him, offering him my power, asking him to be in charge.  i think about the way he uses  clamps on my nipples to focus my attention, plugs my ass to bring me down a notch, uses my mouth to satisfy his cock.  i think about the times he fucks me tenderly, and the times he does it ruthlessly, making it clear that i am there for his pleasure, serving his whims and desires.

i think about his belt, his paddle, the cane and the crop, think about the different kinds of pain they bring, and the pleasure of a good, hard spanking.  i kind of wish he would let me out of this corner and get on with it.

At least i wish that until i hear him moving around behind me again, and then i’m not sure what i want.  Mostly i think i want to go back in time and have listened to him, but it’s way too late for that.

His hand in my hair makes me gasp, he pulls me out of the corner, “Offer your ass,” he says, releasing me, and i head for the couch, upending myself over the arm of it, head down, ass up.   i hear him pull his belt out of the loops – that sound that can not be mistaken for anything else.

“No need to count,” he says, “And you can wait til I’m finished to thank me.”  The first blow lands, burning a swath across my ass and i bite my lip.  There is a pause – he lets the pain of the first one fade before striking again, above the first.  The third one lands below it.

Five parallel lines across my ass, from the middle of my butt cheeks to my sit spot.  The rhythm designed for maximum discomfort, enough time for the pain to blossom but not fade.  Then he begins to criss cross them, so each blow that lands intersects with others.  The burning sensation where they intersect is intense, and i begin to cry out.  i know this won’t cause him to reduce the intensity or shorten the time.

There are hot welts on my ass and tears running down my face before he is done.

At last, he stops, and “Stay where you are,” he says.  “I’ll help you up in a minute.”

He moves away, back again.  “Spread your ass cheeks for me,” he says.

i don’t want to, i know what’s coming, but i do, i bring my arms behind me and open my ass for him.  The lube is cold and sticky, the butt plug still hurts.  “Breathe,” he says, “Do I have to beat your ass some more?  Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sir,” i say, “i belong to you,” and he pushes the plug the rest of the way in.  It is larger than usual, and i struggle to relax my asshole around it.  i know that he wants me to feel myself being stretched, that he intends for it to hurt.

“Now you can get up,” he says, helping me to my feet, arms around me holding me close.  “Here,” he sits down on the couch, helping me kneel between his legs.  “Comfortable?  Do you think you’re ready to listen to me now?”

i laugh, “Yes, Sir, i absolutely am.”




i imagine (14)

{If you’re just starting to read now, here’s the beginning of this story.  After that beginning, it’s all “i imagine” by the numbers.}

By the time Sir Martin leads me back to my room, i am trembling with longing, wanting more of his caresses, wanting to kneel at his feet again, and wanting to be allowed to caress him with my mouth again.  But i’m feeling subdued enough not to expect any such pleasure.  i know i have some punishment coming, and i am swimming in submission.  i can feel the creamy wetness between my thighs,  tangible proof of how much i love this.

In my room, he gestures, and i kneel at his feet.

“I’m punishing you for lack of attention,” he says.  “For being focused on yourself rather than paying attention to what’s around you.  For not being mindful.  Do you agree to accept this punishment – not begrudgingly, but willingly?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say.

“With gratitude?” he says, and i think i hear a note of laughter in his voice.

Glancing up, i smile at him, “Yes, Sir, with gratitude.”

He nods and goes to the closet.  He returns with a butt plug and nipple clamps, a bottle of lube.  “Head down, ass up,” he says.

The lube is cold, and the butt plug feels huge, i try to relax my muscles, but he pushes unrelentingly, not waiting for me to ease into it.  It has been some time since this hole has been used, and “Open,” he says, sternly, “Push back into it, don’t pull away.” and i do, i mange to open and breathe into it, and the plug slides in, it’s the larger one and not comfortable, i feel full and stretched, uncomfortable, and i know this is what he wants.

He helps me stand.

i am barefoot now, still naked, plugged, and i see the clamps in his hand and almost whimper, those are so painful.  He tugs on my nipples, which sends a line of heat straight to my pussy, i move my hips, which moves the plug, making me wish i had held still.

He tightens the clamp on my right nipple, i toss my head from side to side, it hurts so bad, my hands move as if i would touch it, as if i would pull it off, but he sees the movement and catches my hands, pulls them behind me roughly, attaching the cuffs to each other.  “Better,” he says only it’s not better it hurts more for me and he attaches the other one and the pain is just there and all through me, and my cunt is throbbing with desire.

He leads me to the corner, plants me firmly in the corner, “Attention,” he says, “Pay attention to what you’re feeling, and if your mind wanders, i’ll be here to remind you.”

He walks away from me, i can feel him walk away, but i can’t see what he’s doing and i don’t dare turn my head and really i can’t think anyhow, the pain in my nipples is settling to a dull throb and time passes, i wait and wait and wait, til finally i hear a bell ring, and he is behind me again.

“Turn,” he says, turning my body as he says it, and i’m whimpering as he touches the nipple clamps, unfastens them and the blood rushes back into the numbness, and i cry out.  “We’ll just wait a couple of minutes,” he says, “Then I’ll put them on again.”

“Sir,” i say, pleading, and he smiles, kisses me on the lips, deeply penetrating my mouth with his tongue, fucking me with his tongue.  Pulling back, he smiles at me, “Thank you, Sir?” he says, “Is that what you meant to say?”

i almost laugh myself, “Yes, Sir, that’s what i meant,” and then he is putting the clamps back on and i can’t think anymore.  “Second round,” he says,  unfastening the cuffs, “Hands on the wall, I want you on your toes this time.  Pay attention.  Come off your toes, and I’ll use this switch on your ass.”

It’s a switch from the birch tree, i picked it myself the last time i was here, and let it soak in water til it was supple.  It’s dry again now, as i discover when he caresses my thighs with it, tapping the inside of my thighs, prompting me to open my legs.

Being on my toes tightens my ass, makes the butt plug lodged inside me more uncomfortable and my legs ache too, and i think it makes the clamps hurt more and i stand it for a while and then i can’t hold it, my heels come down, and the switch slashes across my ass and i cry out and go back up on my toes – which makes the butt plug more uncomfortable, and if my poor nipples were becoming numb, the movement jostles them into hurting more and there is a moment of almost relief as i stand still again, until the strain of standing on my toes moves into my calves and my heels come down, and the switch slashes the back of my thighs and i cry out again.  We repeat that a couple of times, then the bell rings again and he says, “Turn,” and i feel his hands at my waist turning me and tears are running down my cheeks as he removes the clamps again.

This time he brushes his thumb over my tears, and licks them from his thumb.  “This is hard,” he says.  “But your tears are mine, salty, the taste of submission.”

“This time, I’ll gag you, and I’m going to switch you more, I think it will keep you more present.”  He shows me the gag, it is shaped like a cock and fits my mouth securely, but i can suck on it, and i realize this is a kindness.

The clamps go back on and i moan around the plastic cock, barely aware that tears already flow down my cheeks.   Again, i’m turned to the wall, instructed to stand on my toes, but, he adds, “This time I’ll switch you even when you stay on your toes.”  And he does.

He switches me slowly, leaving time in between for the pain to blossom; he switches me not as hard as he could, but hard enough to keep me focused, not knowing when the next blow will land, warned only by the hiss of the switch as he swings it…

Overwhelmed with sensation, sobbing with barely a sound, i struggle to stay on my toes and to hold still as the switch raises welts across my ass and thighs.  When i move, the clamps jiggle and the pain shoots through my nipples, perversely making my pussy wetter and more aroused, while my asshole tightens around the plug reminding me of how filled i am.  And tears flow.

At last, after a lifetime, the bell rings, and he turns me.  Takes the nipple clamps off, and then the gag, while i am still reeling from pain, gasps and whimpers escaping me and he kisses my mouth as if the sounds of pain were for his pleasure, and really, they are.

He has me kneel again, head down, as he removes the butt plug, and i whimper with relief as it comes out, but then a sense of emptiness and loss overwhelms me, so that i almost, but not quite, want it back again.

“Kneel up,” he says and i do.  He pulls the desk chair over and sits in front of me, letting me drape myself over his legs.  i rub myself against him, while he strokes my back and my hair.

“Thank me,” he says.

i raise my face, tear-stained, sniffling, “Thank you, Sir,” i say, and again, i mean it.  He pulls me closer, kisses the top of my head.


i imagine (13)

{If you’re just starting to read now, here’s the beginning of this story.  After that beginning, it’s all “i imagine” by the numbers.}

He leans forward, stokes her hair, kisses the top of her head.  i want to die.

“I would make you cum,” he says – to her – “but your Sir tells me you’re not allowed to orgasm tonight, so I’ll just send you back to him.”  He turns to Sir Bryan, who’s been half watching this scene unfold.

“Thanks so much for letting me use her,” Sir Martin says.  “She did a really nice job.

i quit listening as Sir Bryan comments on Penny, and Sir Martin responds and blah, blah, blah.  Pouty, that’s what i am, and it’s all his fault too.  i don’t think i can do this, if he thinks it’s good for me to be hurt like this – this isn’t ok, this isn’t what i wanted, this is — his hand on my collar –

oh, shit, a punishment token, and what – what’s he saying?

“Pay attention.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  i haven’t been, not at all.  Quickly i try to staighten out my face, kneeling up, looking as attentive as i can.  He laughs.

“Good try, little one,” he says.  “Too late.  Did you think I couldn’t feel you over there being miserable and pouting and thinking hateful thoughts?  Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

When he puts it like that, i feel ridiculous, of course he knows, how could i be so foolish?

“When I take you to bed tonight,” he says, “you’ll do three 5-minute sets with the nipple clamps on, in the corner, with a butt plug.  Maybe that’ll hold your attention.  Because I notice all three of your infractions have been due to not paying attention.  Or paying more attention to yourself than to what you’re supposed to be tending.  We’ll see if we can begin to correct that fault tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and i’m already starting to feel humbled.  Less pouty.  More repentant. And a shudder runs through me, my pussy clenches.

“But now,” he says, “Come sit in front of me, here.”  And he helps me move, i’m getting a bit stiff with kneeling, he settles me so i’m on the floor, between his legs, leaning against the chair.  He arranges my legs so my knees are bent, feet flat on the floor, legs pulled close to me.  This opens my legs wide, exposing my pussy.

“Watch,” he says.   “Look at the woman on the St. Andrews Cross.  Watch how she moves every time the whip lands on her ass.  You can almost see the welts it makes.”

i swallow hard, it is turning me on even more, watching the things going on in the room.  “Look at the people over there on the bean bag chairs,” he says.  “Watch.”  There are three of them, two women and a man, and they are touching and kissing each other.  One woman on each side of the man, they are stroking him and i can see one of them licking his nipples.

My cunt is throbbing, i squirm a bit.

Sir Martin says, “Turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say.

“But you didn’t much like it when Penny was pleasing me, did you?”  His voice is light, but i know i’m in dangerous territory now.

“i – i think i must have been a bit jealous, Sir,” i say.  And looking for more honesty, i add, “i wanted to please you.”

“Yes.  You wanted to be the one to please me with your mouth.”

His words cut through me, i suddenly realize what i’ve done.  “Sir -” i start, but the words won’t come, i don’t know what to say.  His voice is gentle, “You didn’t want me to have pleasure, didn’t want me to be pleased, you wanted yourself to have the pleasure of giving me pleasure.  Not the same thing at all”

He’s right.  He’s right.  Remorse, then shame, rolling through me.  i try to close my legs, i think i’m going to get up, but he puts an arm across my chest, pins me to the chair.  “Don’t run from it,” he says.  “Just own it.  Breathe.  Breathe now.  And don’t close your legs.  Don’t even think about it. I own you. Right now, you belong to me.  And I want you right where you are.”

“Yes, Sir,” i gasp, it’s really all i can say, i’m about to cry again,  so i choke a bit on the next “yes, Sir.”

“It’s ok,” he says.  “I’m going to punish you pretty harshly, I think that will help you feel better.  And we’ll talk about it some more when we go to your room.  But right now I want to correct you for that urge you had to close your legs.  Put one arm around each leg, you’re going to hold them open for me.  That’s it, wrap this arm around your right leg, yes, your left arm around your left leg.  There.  Keep them right there.”

i hear movement behind me, i don’t know  what he’s doing, i feel scared and excited.  i want him to punish me, and i don’t want him to.

It’s a ruler, he leans forward and it’s a ruler in his hand, a lightweight one, i think it will be more sting than thud.  He caresses the inside of my thighs with it.  i watch it move over me slowly, tracing its way up my thigh to my poor pussy, so naked and so exposed. He strokes me with it – gently – almost tenderly, uses it to part my lips, which are slick and wet.

He strokes me with it for a long time.  My belly, my breasts, taps my nipples, but always brings it back to my inner thighs.  “I’m going to give you ten on each side, right here on your inner thighs,” stroking lightly, caressing where he is about to strike, “and five on your pussy, right here,” and he marks an x on the top of my mound.

i am trembling.  This is going to hurt.  And he’s still caressing me with the light ruler, which is turning me on so much i can’t stand it.

“Just make sure you hold your legs open, and follow directions,” he says.  ‘Try to close your legs, or don’t do what i tell you, and we’ll start over. Clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say.  i think, at least he can’t put too much power behind it from where we’re sitting.  But he leans over, and i realize i’m wrong.  He brings the ruler down a couple of times, stopping just short of my thigh.  It swishes, and i cringe although he has not touched me.

He laughs.  “I haven’t even touched you yet!  That’s two extra.  I’m going to give you ten on each side, then start over for any extras.  We’ll end with the ones on your cunt.”

And quickly, while i am not quite expecting it, he swings again.  i feel it land, sharp, it takes a second to sink in, it stings. i bite my lip.

He lands another on the same thigh.  “Who do you belong to?” he asks.

“You, Sir.”

The third, fourth and fifth fall in rapid succession, landing over each other, the sting building with each one.  i squirm.  He pauses long enough to ask, “Who tells you when you can close your legs?”

“You do, Sir.  You do.”

He is still on the same thigh, six, seven and eight – the pain was mild in the beginning, but is intense now, he pauses again.  i am struggling to hold still, making sure my legs stay wide open.

He waits, letting the pain run through me.  “Who owns you?” he says.

“You do, Sir, you do.”  i am tossing my head from side to side, still trying to absorb the pain.

The next two land quickly, making me gasp and whimper.

He shifts his weight to focus on the other side of me and the ruler lightly caresses my other thigh.  i shudder, knowing how much pain i’m about to feel.

“You’re fighting it,” he says.  “Can you open to it?”

“i’m trying,” i respond, through clenched teeth.

“Let’s try this,” he says.  “Raise your ass up, yes like that, lift your ass so your pussy is up – yes.”

My head and part of my shoulders are leaning back on him, feet on the ground, my pussy raised high.  My eyes are on the ceiling so i hear the ruler, the swish, but don’t see it as he brings it down on my cunt, landing full on the top of it.  He strikes again quickly, before i have registered the pain. Then twice more, brings it down hard twice again, marking me in a double X over the first two marks.

“Keep it up, right there,” he says, and he makes a third X, and i think there will be welts, the pain is almost overwhelming me, and “keep offering,” he says, as he goes back to the thigh that he has not yet marked.  “Stay right there,” he says, as he begins to strike my other thigh.  Slower, more rhythmically, letting the pain settle and build, he lands 5 on this thigh.

i’m whimpering, but i have quit fighting it, i’ve relaxed into the pain, and i know i can take more if he wants me too, the burning is not so bad now, i can still feel the heat and i think there are welts, but i have started offering myself, and i think i can take whatever he does.

“Five more,” he says,  and he lets me settle into position with my butt on the ground again.  i feel them land, but i am relaxed into the pain, i moan but am not struggling to escape.  i want him to fuck me.

“Two extra, but i want them on the back of your thighs.  Turn please, head down, ass up.”

i’m a bit disoriented, it takes me a minute to register what he wants, and he helps me figure out how to do it.  When i’m arranged to his satisfaction, so that i’m offering him the backs of my thighs, he pauses to stroke my ass.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he says, “That I promised you a comfort spanking, and you’ll have it later.”  His fingers slide between my legs, my cunt is hot and wet.  He penetrates me with one finger, then two.  i tremble with pleasure, moan.

He slides his fingers over my clit, “It would be so easy to make you cum,” he says and i say, “Yes, Sir?” hopefully, but he laughs.  “Not now.  Probably not tonight.  Maybe tomorrow if you’re a good girl.  Maybe.”

His hand caresses my thighs, and then stops, i hear the swish of the ruler, and feel the familiar burn across my upper thighs.  i moan.


An Open Mind

‘What’s on your mind?” he asks.

Deep in thought, i say, “Nothing, really,” but then i hear what i’ve said and see his face, eyebrows raised.  My eyes widen, and i swallow hard, wishing i could take those careless words back.

It is, of course, too late.  “That’s ten,” he says casually.  “With the crop or the paddle, we’ll sort that out later.”

He looks at me, waiting, and he doesn’t have to ask again, i volunteer quickly, “Susan.  i was thinking about Susan.  i’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he says.  “I didn’t think we were through with that.  Can’t let it go, can you?”

“No, Sir,” i sigh.  “i just keep thinking about how i might have handled it differently.  If i had just messaged her back sooner, even if i just said i was thinking about it, instead of waiting so long.  i keep thinking about what i could have said.”

He nods.  “And she blocked you.  On Facebook.”  His tone is just slightly acerbic.  “Because you didn’t drop everything you were doing on our vacation to answer her right away.  Your cousin’s ex-girlfriend.  This is what you can’t quit fretting about.”

“Yes, Sir, i know, Sir.  It sounds silly when you put it that way.  i mean, that’s the way it is, so i guess it is silly.”

He shakes his head, “Not silly, it’s perfectionism.  That’s an automatic five.  Five more because you can’t forgive yourself, takes us up to twenty, and I’ll throw in five more because we’re on vacation and I would rather be playing with you than punishing you.  Do you want them here, right now?”

“Here?” i gasp, because i realize he could do that – he could punish me right here in the lounge of this event we’re at.  And no one would stop him, or even think much of it.   That’s the beauty of being at a kink event, usually, but it seems kind of horrifying at the moment.   “Oh, oh -” and i have to bite my lip hard not to say, “No, Sir, please not here!”  But that’s not the right answer, and i know it.

“If it pleases you, Master,” i say, “then of course,” forcing the words out, trying to sound pleasant and appropriately submissive.  He smiles, fully aware of how hard that was for me.

“Tell you what,” he says, “I’ll ask Master Joseph if he’ll unlock the dungeon for us for a little while.”  He stands, motions for me to get up too.  i am already wearing my collar and leash, heels that are just a bit uncomfortable, and a dress that barely hits mid-thigh.  He takes the leash in hand and begins circulating through the room, greeting people he knows, searching for his old friend, Master Joseph, who is the organizer for this event.

They spot each other at almost the same moment, and i watch Master Joseph excuse himself from the people he’s talking to and head in our direction.  My stomach tightens in knots, i don’t know this master at all, and i’m not proud that our first introduction will be due to me needing to be punished.

My Master seems unconcerned.  The two men greet each other, chat for a minute about the event.  Master doesn’t introduce me, and i wait with my eyes down.  It’s Master Joseph who finally says, “You looked like you needed something, Daniel.  Anything I can help with?”

Master says,” Yes, actually I do.  I need to punish this girl of mine, ” with a tug on my leash, “And was wondering if I’d be allowed to use one of the dungeons for that.”

“Oh, absolutely!”   Master Joseph is beaming.   “Feel free to use the whips and paddles of course.  I can’t come with you right now, but here – Lydia – ” and he stops one of the cute young assistants bustling around.   This one has tassels on her nipples and a tutu.  “Lydia, will you take my friend, Master Daniel, and his girl to Room D and make sure they have everything they need?”

“Of course, Master Joseph,” she says, her tone as perky as her breasts.  Turning to us, smiling at my Master, she says, “This way, we’ll cut through here and it’s just down the hallway.”

It seems like no time before we are in the room and, without even a moment to look around at the fascinating furniture and devices, Master hustles me to the corner.   “Nose to the wall,” he says, “Now take one step back.  Ass out.”  He raises my skirt so my ass is fully exposed, tucking it under my belt so it will stay.  i hear him say, “Thank you, Lydia, we’ll be fine,” and assume that she’s leaving.

“Now,” he says, and i can sense his body behind me, his mouth close to my ear.  “Here is the focus for your first meditation.  ‘My mind is always open to my Master.’  Say it out loud once.”

i repeat it, “My mind is always open to my Master,” and as i do, i can feel it, my mind opening for him.

“Focus on that,” he says.  “When your mind wanders, and it will, just notice and bring your attention back to keeping your mind open to me.  Clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

i can tell he’s moved away because the air is cooler on my ass.  As soon as i notice myself noticing that, i pull my attention back.

“My mind is always open to my Master.   My mind is always open to my Master.  My mind…”

i don’t know how much time goes by, or how many times my attention wanders and i pull it back.  Days, weeks, or maybe 10 minutes.  But suddenly he is behind me again.

He takes my collar, turns me so he can grasp my leash.  Without a word, he leads me to a spanking bench, gestures for me to kneel up on it.   Quickly, i position myself, ass up, of course.

“I don’t want you to count these first ten,” he says, “But I do want you to say your mantra after each one.  Here we go.”

i don’t even know what he’s got in his hand til it lands, and there’s no doubt it’s a paddle.  A big one, too, and i swallow a scream.  “My mind is always open to my Master,” i say quickly.

That phrase gives the first whack just enough time to really hurt before the second one lands. “My mind is always open to my Master!”  i think that i can’t take this, and after the fifth one, he fastens my arms in place so my hands can’t come back in a misguided effort to protect my ass.

But by the time he gets to eight, i’ve moved into that place of acceptance, where i almost – not quite, but almost – welcome it.  It takes  me a second to form words, and my ass is burning, but i’m no longer fighting it.

After the first ten, he switches to the crop.  It slices through the air, raising welts on my ass.  My phrase is different too, i’m to say, “I will never be perfect” after each lick.

i am almost crying at first, but more quickly this time i am able to relax into it.  Those five go pretty quickly, as each time he hits above or below the previous mark.

The next five are more difficult, he strikes diagonally, making sure the welts criss-cross. For the next five, i am required to say, “i forgive myself for not being perfect.”  i am crying now, but these tears are welcome.  i can feel something loosening inside me as i let go of the anxiety and the shame.

The last five are with his belt.  i hear him pull it from the belt loops with a sense of relief.  i love his belt.  And the last five are directed to my upper thighs, and my sit spot.  The feeling is going to linger every time i sit down for a while.  But now i am only required to say “Thank you, Master,” after each blow, and i am feeling the truth of that gratitude.

When he is finished, he releases my arms but tells me to stay.  i know he will wipe down the crop and the paddle he’s borrowed.   i am not allowed to rub my ass, which is throbbing and sore.

Then he leads me back to the corner.  Face to the wall, my cheeks streaked with tears, i assume the position, with my nose as close to the corner as i can get it, ass pushed out.

“I want you to finish with a loving-kindness meditation,” he says.  “I don’t care which one, but send lots of loving-kindness to Susan, and to yourself.”

i hear him walk away, and know that he’s going to clean the spanking bench.  After a couple of deep breaths, i began, “May Susan be peaceful, may Susan be happy, may Susan be safe.  May Susan awaken to the light of her true nature.  May Susan be free.”  If i had done this in the first place, maybe i wouldn’t have been fretting about her.   Maybe i wouldn’t have needed to be punished.

Time passes, probably not as much time as it seems.  At last, i feel his hand on my collar, “Finish up,” he says, and i end silently with him, “May Master be peaceful, may Master be happy, my Master be safe, may Master awaken to the light of his true nature, may Master be free.”

He helps me move away from the wall; leads me to a large armchair.  He settles himself in the chair, motions for me to sit at his feet.  i am very tired, and maybe he is too.  He lets me rest my head on his thigh, and strokes my hair for a little bit.

Finally, i look up at him, raise my eyebrows, lick my lips suggestively.   He laughs, but shakes his head.  “No, girl, no cock worship for you, and no orgasms either, not right now.  Tell me what you would do differently if you had this to do over.”

And i tell him, i let him know that next time i will remember to use the loving -kindness meditation to let go of my anxiety before i need to be punished, or i will ask him for help.  i hope that i will really do it when the time comes.

i thank him for punishing me.  My voice is low, but i trust that he knows i really am grateful.

He lets me kiss his hands, and then he says, “Come on.  Up with you.  You need to wash your face before we go back.”

On my feet, i add, “And pull my skirt back down?”  He shakes his head, “Oh, no, I think we’ll leave it up for a while.  I like the sight of that lovely ass, all red and sore.”

i glance at him out of the corner of my eye – surely he’s kidding – but i’m no fool.  “If it pleases you, Master,” i say, smiling sweetly, as we walk on.


i apologize for the length of this, it’s nearly twice as long as most of my posts.  But i wrote it in one afternoon, and couldn’t find the right place for it to break in two parts.

The story reminds me of one of the Dr. Seuss stories – the one about the little boy who’s explaining to his teacher why he’s late to school.  He tells her this whole long story about two worms fighting and other animals getting involved, and when he gets through she says, “Did all that really happen?”  And he shuffles his feet and says “Well, I did see a worm.”


Rather like him, there really was a Facebook message that i didn’t respond to immediately, and i did get blocked. The rest is pure fantasy – except for the loving kindness meditation, which i include here in a slightly different version.

So many thoughts…

i found a blog that turned the heat up on a bunch of ideas that have been simmering on a back burner for a long time.  i’ll link to it as soon as the owner lets me know he’s ok with that.  He is clearly on a mission, and it’s important to me to make sure i’m being supportive and not hindering him.
(No, we’re not going to talk about why i’m asking permission from this person for something that i often just do.  It may be a little odd, but i’m following my instincts here.)
“Olivia Submits” is not my first blog, and a few of my friends have followed me from one blog to another as my life has taken many twists and turns, spiraling through time and space.
Some of you may remember that i got to attend a workshop offered by Raven Kaldera, and i’ve even talked about him on this blog.  He profoundly influenced my understanding of BDSM and spirituality.  i was all excited, thinking it was going to be a pathway to other change, but that has fallen apart and i have not followed through, and my life has taken other paths.

Well, this new blog i’ve been reading has stirred all that up again.

A lot of my earlier fantasy writing had a “training school” theme, and more than one submissive woman commented that they’d love to come to the school i envisioned.  So what if – hang with me here – what if –

There were a retreat center for people, especially submissives, who are already doing some kind of service work, and who are at risk for compassion fatigue.  The retreat center would offer space and structure for their healing, while connecting them with energy from the earth, which would be healing for the land and for the energy in the universe.

There would be discipline and punishment, exercise and meditation, gardening and being outside, and maybe classes and some kind of one-on-one opportunity for processing it all.  And orgasms – i haven’t forgotten orgasms.

The focus would be on helping people who want to serve, or who already serve, use their energy to heal the world.  In my fantasies these days, there is always a Dominant who’s directing me in ways that guide me to be more of who i am, to offer more, to connect more completely with my desire to serve.   So the relationship serves the Dominant, i serve the Dom, but it also grounds me in ways that make me more effective in my externally directed service work.

For those of us who haven’t found a Dominant who’s willing and able to provide that kind of guidance and support, the retreat center would offer the opportunity to experience that for a limited time.  Think “Masters of the Castle” with an altruistic spin.

So that’s what i’m thinking about today.  i have no idea if this other person with the new blog is thinking anything at all along those lines, or if my thoughts would even intersect with his.  But it’s sure given me a lot to think about.

Goals – the next day

i wake up early.  i lie there for a minute, trying to remember what’s different today.  Then it comes to me – oh.  Yes.  Oh.

I want to go to the bathroom, but i can barely get out of bed.  One ankle and one wrist are attached to the bed.  i could untie myself, theoretically, but i would not want the consequences of doing that without permission.  And theoretically, i could stand up, but i don’t want to take the chance of ending up on the floor on my ass.

“Hello?”  i call out, knowing that the video camera and the monitor are on, someone can hear me, but that’s no guarantee that they’ll answer.  “I need to – um, i need to pee.  Please.”

There is silence for a long moment.  Then The Voice – the disembodied voice of the monitor – says, “You may untie your wrist and use the pot at the end of the bed.  If you want to, your choice.”

i sigh.  Fuck.  i don’t want to use the pot.  i have to squat. They’ll watch me.  i hate that.  But if i don’t, they’re liable to leave me here til i have to do it, just to teach me a lesson.  Fine.

i roll over enough to use my right hand to take the rope off my left wrist.  i sit up, the rope on my ankle looks long enough to stand up easily, so i scoot to the side of the bed, put my right foot to the floor and let the left follow.  Yep, piece of cake.  And there’s the pot, right there in easy reach.  AND toilet paper.  It is clearly my lucky day.

i finish and am trying to decide what to do with the toilet paper when The Voice says, “Go ahead and unfasten your ankle now.  You can empty the pot yourself.”

Annoyed, but trying not to show it, i set myself free, carry the pot carefully to the bathroom, where i empty and wash it as i’ve been taught to do.  “Good girl!” and i could swear The Voice is laughing at me.

It is my master who opens the door, he walks in as if this is just another day.  “Good morning,” he says, kissing my mouth and pinching one nipple at the same time.  i’m delighted, despite myself.

“Kneel,” he says, just as casually as he’d said good morning.  The change of pace throws me, but just for a second.  Quickly, i kneel.

“Today, all of your activities will be monitored.  It will be a day of punishment, a day of self-improvement, and I hope it will be a day that you make progress on your goals.  I’ve scheduled you for body buffing today, you’ll be inspected tonight.  Is that clear?”

My mind is cloudy, this is a lot to take in, but i answer, “Yes, Master,” quickly.

He smiles then, and my heart beats faster – i know, that’s silly, but it does.  He reaches down to stroke my cheek.  “You are a good girl, you know,” he says.  “And I know you’ll do well today.  Make me proud.  I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, Master,” i say, and this time i say it knowing that i will do whatever tasks he’s assigned me today, with pleasure.  Ok, maybe not all with pleasure, but whole-heartedly.

He reaches down, offers me his hand to help me to my feet.  “Come here,” he says, “come bend over the spanking bench.  I’ll give you the first spanking of the day myself.  Yes, right here.”

i admit, i’m pleased he’s doing it himself, and i hope there’ll be an orgasm at the end of it too.  So i drape myself over the spanking bench, offering my ass quite willingly.

Five licks with the paddle later, i am rubbing my ass and resigned to a day with no orgasms.  My Master kisses me again, pinching both nipples this time, hard.  “Bye, baby,” he says.  “No orgasms, don’t forget.”  And he’s gone.

He has barely left the room when Jamie comes in.  She’s a trainer, and i assume she’s going to be in charge today.

“Hey,” she says, friendly enough.

“Hi,” i’m not sure whether to relax or be more anxious when she’s being this nice.

“Ready?  Have you showered yet?”  i shake my head, no, and she says, glancing at her phone, “That’s ok.  I see your Master gave you 5 with the paddle, but you have another 10 coming.  Back over the bench please.”

i am not nearly as enthusiastic this time, but not stupid either.  Obediently, back over the bench i go.  The paddle hurts like a mother, and Jamie is no slacker.  i am almost crying by the time she’s done.  But i can feel myself opening, my willingness to obey increasing every time the paddle lands on my ass.

“Ok,” she says with a sigh, as if this has been tougher on her than on me.  “Let me look at your schedule.  You’ve got exercise class next.  Get me your leash, we don’t want to be  late.”