Saturday, May 21, 2016

Master will not be ignored.

I made the mistake of leaving my laptop at home. Master wants me to keep up my blog while I am gone... I'm writing on my iPad. It feels a bit like building a ship in a bottle. 

I am nursing some glorious belt marks on my ass right now. I get to think of Master every time I sit down. I earned them. Mistakes are... Costly. 

Master does not like to be ignored. And I was negligent. He asked me a question and I disregarded it. Twice. It wasn't until he asked the third time that I answered. I was busy working on other things, but Master should always be my priority. 

Master does not lose control. He has asked me to always meet him in full submission at the door. Completely nude, I assumed the position. Knees apart, sitting on my heels, hands resting on my knees, head lowered. The front door opened. My dog ran to greet him. He met her with loving attention. Not me. 

He stood silently before me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and ordered me to get on the bed. I was not invited to look up. I was not greeted. I was in trouble. Rather than risk additional wrath, I remained on my knees and crawled into the bedroom and onto the bed. I laid there. I could feel the warmth of him behind me. I heard him unbuckle his belt. I heard the swish of leather. He rested the belt across my behind. It was warm with his heat. He informed me that it would be 40 each side. 

Crack. The belt fell hard on my bare flesh. My voice caught in my throat and I cried out. Crack. I screamed again. Crack. Crack. Crack. I was screaming in a haze of pain, my face buried in my mattress. Tears fell from my eyes, unbidden. As the belt continued to fall, I fought to keep still. All of my instincts commanded me to flee. I lost control for a moment, rising to my toes and lifting away from him. "Down, bitch." He shoved me roughly back on the bed. There was a moment of respite as the moved to the other cheek, but it didn't last. The belt fell again, and again, and again. For the final 5-10, I could no longer keep count, he spanked me hard. His open palm delivering a different type of sting from the belt. 

He moved me to the bed. As I lay on my back, he finally met my eyes.   For a moment, I saw a glimmer of pride and affection. His eyes turned steely again as his fingers slid inside me. I came on his command. Slap. My orgasm was quickly followed by a sharp slap on my clit. Followed by another. He didn't stop. My cries fell upon deaf ears. Fingers back inside. Orgasm. Slap. Fingers inside. Orgasm. Slap. Slap. Slap.

I was dazed. I was in hell. I was in heaven, and Master was beside me. With me. My mind went blank. I was unaware of the passage of time. I only knew the throbbing, the searing, and the warmth of Master's body pressed to mine. His arms surrounding me. In a moment's pause, I whispered, "I love you." I was instructed firmly not to think, and the pain resumed. 

And then it stopped. I opened my eyes, blurred with tears. Master's face was soft again. He stroked my face. He rose from the bed and effortlessly lifted me, cradled me against his chest. His chest was damp with sweat. I clung to him with the last of my strength, taking  in his warmth, his strength, and the smell of his skin. 

He laid me gently on the rug in the bathroom. He turned on the shower and helped me to my feet. He drew me into the shower with him and held me close. I remained limp on his chest. He washed me. His hands moved softly over my skin. 

I began to cry, a trickle at first widening to a flood. The emotions overwhelmed me. 


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