He is a kind man, and forgiving, but not weak. Stern. Yes, that is the word which would best describe him. It is rare that I incur his displeasure, but today was one of those times. I was bratty, snappy, and disobedient – all on a day when we had both agreed would be a strict D/s day. I had agreed, suggested even, that today be a day when I would obey without question. Then, I talked backed, refused the simplest of tasks – sucking on him, and become rebellious when he told me of my punishment. Thank the gods that be that he remained stern and would allow for none of this behavior. He ordered me to strip and when I hesitated, he tore the clothing from my body, leaving me only with the garter belts on my thighs. Then, he grabbed my hair and forced me to a chair. I climbed on it, begging for mercy. He denied this and began to spank me hard. No warm up. No mercy. He spanked me until I cried, begged forgiveness, and had melted into a puddle of submissive need.

He fucked me then. Hard. Fast. Deep. This was not for my pleasure, but for his. He came quickly, filling me with his essence, but forbidding my own release. I had not paid for my disobedience yet. Nonetheless, I was happy, grateful for his pleasure.  I need his strictness, his sternness. Without it, I would have no structure. I am so needy, I beg him for release, but am denied. I have not yet earned my release. I must work for it, suffer for it.

He ties me to the bed, spread eagle. Now that his initial needs have been satiated, he can go for hours without coming again. My nipples are his target. First, he puts the suction pumps on them, which humiliate me. I think they look silly, protruding from my nipples. They hurt more as he pumps them tight. He smiles, seeing my discomfort and reaches down to assure himself that this excites me, which it does. My words can betray my true feelings, but my body cannot lie. He keeps them on while he slaps my wet pussy. I cry out. The pain is intense, but so is the excitement. After a count of thirty, he stops the spanking, checks my breasts, slides the elastic bands onto my swollen nipples and removes the suction. Please, I beg, Please suck on them. I need your mouth. He looks at me, smiles, the sucks my tender, red nipples, I cry out in relief and gratitude. I don’t care what he does to me as long as he sucks my nipples! He reaches down, inserts three fingers into my pussy. Hard, no gentleness here. Then four. He fucks me while he sucks on my nipples. “More” I gasp. “Are you sure?” he asks, giving me the choice. I raise my head, look at him, his eyes wide, my nipple in his mouth. “yes. Use, take all that you want.” I am sure. He adds a forth finger, then his thumb. He pushes deep inside of me, fisting my pussy. I scream from both pain and pleasure. He releases one nipple, only to capture the other. I cry out, begging for forgiveness, promising anything. I come, covering his fist with joyful cream. He pulls his fist from my body and I scream, devastated by the emptiness. He fists his cock, covering it in my lubrication.

“Your Ass is Mine.”

I say nothing, for nothing can be said. He is correct. It is his. He lifts my hips, positions himself and plunges, balls deep, into my anus. He bends, using his teeth, releasing first one then the other band from my nipples. I scream as blood flows back into them and he pounds into me. I have no choice. I want no choice. I have disobeyed and deserve this pain, this pleasure, this use. He pulls my head back, orders me to come. I do, immediately. It is his voice that pushes me over the edge. He follows, falling with me into that sweet abyss.

“Now,” he says later, once we have recovered, “are you ready to behave?”

“Yes, Milord. I am.”