I woke up Sunday just before noon, the sound of boisterous laughter and men's voices coming from downstairs. The aroma of my Saturday night sexual adventure at Sam and Trisha's place still clung to my body. I should have showered, but my curiosity about who was downstairs got the better of me, and I slipped on a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting tee shirt to further investigate. As I walked down the stairs, one of the voices had a somewhat familiar ring. I'd heard this voice before but couldn't place it. I stepped into the kitchen and found Paul and two other men sitting at the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry, hun. Did we wake you?" Paul asked as he noticed me enter the room.

I just smiled and shook my head no.

"We're just waiting for Jim to show up and fill out our foursome," Paul explained.

I smiled again and moved a little closer to the three of them.

"I should introduce you; this is Frank," Paul said, pointing to the man sitting across the table from him, and then said, "And this is Steve," who was sitting with his back toward me.

"Guy's, this is my wife, Dianna," Paul said, finishing the introduction.

My mind went blank as I placed the voice with a memory.

Stephen turned almost as soon as he heard my name. I'm sure his mind was as blank as mine.

I couldn't speak, and I'm sure my expression was one of total horror. The man, who had introduced me to anal sex, fed me a condom full of thick cum, and taken dozens of hardcore pictures of me sucking his cock, was sitting in my kitchen with my husband.

As Stephen stood up and turned entirely toward me, I was finally able to utter a few words, "Nice to meet you both."

Stephen moved toward me and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, Dianna," he said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

He was equally stunned that the woman he'd met a week ago in a seedy motel room was married to his golfing buddy.

As I moved around the table, Stephen sat back down and lifted his iced tea to his lips. I'm sure his mouth was bone dry.

I sat across from him as Paul said, "Steve had a family commitment last Sunday and couldn't make it, but he's back with us today."

I smiled at Stephen as I replied, "Family commitments should always take precedence over a silly round of golf."

We both knew that Stephen had lied to Paul and that his commitment was with my hot body, just as I'd lied to him and said I was going to putter around the house. I nearly giggled out loud with the idea that the putter was Stephen's big, beautiful hard cock.

Mercifully, this awkward little foursome ended abruptly when a resounding knock on the kitchen door signaled that Jim had arrived. Paul left him in as Stephen and Frank rose from their seats.

While Paul was preoccupied with Jim, Stephen reached for my hand, and as he shook it politely, he winked and said, "It was my pleasure, Dianna."

His quick, sexy wink let me know that the pleasure happened a week ago.

"Have a good time, guys," I said as they headed into the garage.

As I watched them drive off, I thought, "If Paul only knew that the pictures I showed him on my cell were of his buddy's cock stuffed in my mouth, he wouldn't be so anxious to spend this afternoon with Steve."

I took a quick shower, slipped on some fresh clothes, and added my shorts and tee shirt to the laundry I needed to do. After starting the washing machine, I headed to my office to check my messages on Swingers Unlimited. A couple of dozen requests for my glory-hole schedule were waiting for me to reply. Several had photos attached of hard cocks, but the one that intrigued me most didn't have the typical.jpg image attached. Instead, the little icon was an MP4.

Not knowing what to expect, I clicked on it, and a small screen opened with an image of a stunning cock which, to my amazement, twitched a little as I watched a man's hand move into the frame and grasp his cock. He slowly began stroking it, sliding his fingers up over the corona, and twisted around his glans. A movie, I thought, how cool that is. I realized that by clicking on the edge of the movie screen, I could enlarge it, but I went too far, and the image became blurry, so I reduced it a little, bringing his hard cock to a crystal clear image. I watched as his strokes became faster, and eventually, his cock began spewing thick, hot cum, which shot beyond the edge of the screen.

As his hand slowed, the final few drops of cum oozed from his urethra and dangled off the tip of his cock head. He released his shrinking cock and turned the camera to show the wads of cum he'd shot all over a photo of a gorgeous blonde bombshell. I watched his short masturbation video several times, imagining his cum shot hitting my face.

That movie made me horny as hell, but I knew I wouldn't have time this afternoon to find a hard cock, so I did the next best thing.

"Dianna, I thought you were going to call me Monday," Jerry said, as he answered my call.

"I just wanted to call you to tell you how much I enjoyed myself last night," I replied.

"It was fun," he answered.

"Are you at work?" I asked.

"Yes, but on Sunday, we only have a skeleton crew, so it isn't hectic," Jerry said.

"It's too bad you had to work today. I would have loved to follow you to your apartment and spend a couple of hours showing you how much fun I had." I replied, wanting him to know I wanted his beautiful hard cock again.

"Yeah, if I didn't have to leave Sam's place so early, I would have liked to show you his dungeon," he said.

"I might have liked that, but what's the dungeon all about?" I asked, having no idea of what happened there.

Jerry laughed and explained, "It's where a dominant can play with his submissive."

"I like submitting," I replied.

He didn't reply immediately. I assumed he was formulating how he'd approach my admission that I like submitting, but finally said, "Dianna, do you understand the meaning of being a submissive?"

"Not exactly, but I'm all ears," I said.

"A submissive woman is someone willing to follow her dominant's orders without hesitation and exactly as he demands," he explained.

"Okay," I said.

"And if she doesn't, she must be punished," Jerry continued.

"Sounds kind of kinky," I admitted.

"The least bit of hesitation is reason for punishment," he said.

I didn't reply, knowing there was more to being a submissive.

"A well-trained submissive enjoys being bound tightly, blindfolded, or perhaps have a gag ball tied to her mouth, and most importantly, willing to accept the pain of her dominant's punishment," Jerry said.

"It is kinky," I answered.

"Absolutely, and Sam's dungeon is stocked with all the tools to turn a willing submissive into a hotwife," Jerry continued.

"Tools? What kind of tools?" I asked.

"Things like blindfolds, or a bondage hood, cuffs, floggers, collars, and leashes, along with all kinds of sex toys like dildos, electrical stimulators, you know, kinky stuff," Jerry said.

"I'm interested, Jerry," I replied, hoping my interest would pique his desire to be with me again.

"Every dominant establishes rules that his submissive must follow to the letter," he continued.

"What rules would you have?" I asked.

Jerry continued, saying, "It could be anything, from how you are to address your master, how he would expect you to dress, or perhaps when you would be permitted to have an orgasm."

"Oh my," I answered.

It was clear to me that Jerry has a darker side, and he was testing me to see if I'd be willing to be dominated in such a way.

"A dominant may want his slave to please other men while he watches, not allowing his submissive to see or speak while she does," he said.

I didn't reply.

"Some dominants might go as far as demanding his slave submit to having a golden shower," Jerry said.

I don't recall where I'd heard of a golden shower, but I knew it involved urinating on a man or a woman. "That seems degrading," I remarked.

"It is," Jerry replied, then added, "But a true submissive wants nothing more than to please her master."

At this point in my sexual awakening, I wanted to experience everything, so I answered, "I want to be your slave, Jerry."

"Are you sure, Dianna?" Jerry asked.

"I am," I answered.

"Very well, if that's the case, let's begin with some basic rules," he said.

"Okay," I replied.

"First rule, when we are together, you will address me as Master. The second rule is to dress in black lingerie, seamed stockings, garter belts, stilettos, and leather bra and thong. The third rule is that you will only speak when your master permits." Jerry said, laying down three basic rules.

"I will, Master," I replied.

"Beginning tomorrow night, you will be given several tests. Only after I, as your master, have determined you've passed those tests will you be permitted to have an orgasm," Jerry said.

"If at any time you either fail my test or break one of my rules, your punishment will be swift and severe," he added.

"I understand, Master," I said.

"I expect you to arrive at my place at exactly seven tomorrow night. If you are early or late, you WILL be punished," he said, accentuating the word' will. '

"Yes, Master," I answered.

"I'm finished with you, slave," Jerry said before hanging up his phone.

I sat back in my chair and thought about what I had just agreed to. This whole dominant, submissive thing seemed like a kinky role-play scenario, but role-play was something I wanted to explore, so I'd jump in head first Monday evening with him.

I'd have to go shopping on Monday morning since I would need seamed stockings and a garter plus a leather bra and thong. I guess I'll visit Julie and see if she carries a little more kinky lingerie.

I was sitting in the kitchen when Paul arrived home a little after six.

"How was your golfing?" I asked as he sat down across the table.

Paul smiled and said, "I hit 'em pretty well, shot a two-over-par seventy-four, but my partner Steve shot an eighty-six, and we lost the match by five shots."

"I assume he's normally a better golfer than that," I remarked.

"Sure is, but today, he seemed distracted. It was almost like he had something or someone on his mind," Paul answered.

"Everyone has an off day now and again," I replied.

"True, but I got the impression he wanted to tell me something," Paul answered.

I was relieved that Stephen didn't tell him what was on his mind, and for the briefest moment, I thought about telling him myself why his golfing buddy was off today. I dashed those thoughts immediately.

"Did you eat, Dianna?" he asked.

I smiled at him and said, "No, and unfortunately, I didn't plan for dinner."

"Wanna order pizza?" Paul suggested.

"Sure, how does mushroom and pepperoni sound?" I replied.

Paul nodded yes and said, "I'll call The Hut."

"Sounds good. Give me a shout when it's here. I'm gonna go upstairs while we wait," I said.

Before I could leave the kitchen, Paul asked, "So, how's your swinger thing going?"

"Okay, I guess," I answered, not wanting to go into any details.

"Have you seen any new men?" Paul asked.

I lied to him, saying, "Not recently, but I have a date tomorrow night."

It was clear that Paul wanted to know who I was seeing as he asked, "A new guy?"

"No, I'm meeting with Jerry again," I answered.

He giggled, then said, "The slick talker you met at O'Neil's."

"Yep," I answered.

"Are you gonna get some pictures of his uncut cock between your lips?" He smugly asked.

"Perhaps," I said, knowing that photos wouldn't be something my Master would be interested in taking.

Paul just smiled, thinking he'd be able to see the second batch of me sucking a big, hard cock.

"You better call for the pizza, or we'll be eating at nine o'clock," I mentioned, wanting him to stop with his inquisition.

"Okay," Paul answered as I turned and headed toward the stairs.

I wanted to know more about Jerry's kinky fetish, so I searched for BSDM. That returned hundreds of pages dealing with the topic. After reading excerpts from several, I clicked on images to see what I may be in for Monday night. Most depicted women who appeared to be in pain, either from being flogged or bound so tightly that they couldn't move. One photo that caught my attention was of a woman bound to an inversion table, her hair dangling toward the floor, and her Master mouth fucking her so profoundly that the flesh on her neck bulged noticeably.

"Want some pizza?" Paul said, startling me.

Before I could minimize the page, he looked at the image on my computer.

As he approached from behind, Paul said, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

"Oh, nothing really; I was just surfing the web," I said, trying to convince him that the image I was studying was something I'd found by chance.

He placed a plate holding two slices on the corner of my desk, grabbed the chair from my sewing table, and sat next to me.

I turned a little toward him and gave him my best what now expression.

"You know, Dianna, this whole swinging thing is bad enough, but bondage is way too much," he said.

"For you, perhaps, but I like the thought of exploring submissiveness," I answered.

He shook his head before saying, "So you want to be bound, gagged, and then fucked silly."

"I said exploring being a submissive, not letting it take over completely," I answered.

Paul stood up, and before leaving, he said, "And, I suppose this slick talker Jerry has you convinced you'll enjoy being his submissive?"

"Perhaps," I answered.

He stopped in the doorway, turned back toward me, and said, "He's going to hurt you, Dianna."

I just grinned at him. If he only knew that was what I was most looking forward to, he'd understand my interest in BSDM.

I walked across the room and quietly closed the door, then returned to my computer and enlarged the screen to study the photo again. The woman was clearly in some discomfort; her lips stretched nearly to the point of tearing, and the massive bulge in her throat led me to believe the dominant Master was very well-hung. My excitement for Monday grew with each passing moment.

Paul and I didn't speak again; the following day, after he had left for work, I came downstairs. I needed to find the lingerie my master required, and after getting dressed, I headed out to shop for what I knew would please him.

The seamed stockings, garter, and stilettos were easy to find, but the leather bra and thong set took forever. If I had more time, I could have shopped online and had the items shipped for free.

I spread my purchases out on my bed, wondering what I'd wear over the top of the kinky lingerie my master demanded. Jerry hadn't instructed me on what I should wear when I arrived; he couldn't expect me to show up wearing just the lingerie, but if I didn't, he'd have a reason to punish me the instant I walked into his place. On top of that, I'd need to hide what I was wearing from Paul, who'd be home before I left for Jerry's.

My dilemma was solved as I looked out my bedroom window; a steady rain had begun to fall. I could dress in just the lingerie and hide it from Paul with a long raincoat; then, when I knocked on Jerry's door, I could untie the belt, and his first view would be of me dressed exactly as he demanded.

This whole submissive niche was going to take some planning ahead of time. I'd need something to wear when I left his place, so I folded a pair of jeans and placed them into a small overnight bag along with a white tee shirt and sneakers. Then, I carried the bag downstairs and put it in the back seat of my vehicle.

About three, I said to myself, Okay, Dianna, if you're going to go through with this, you better start getting ready. I showered, shampooed my hair quickly, and sat at my make-up table. I brushed my wet hair straight back and pulled it into a tight ponytail behind my head. In my mind, a submissive should have dark, sultry eyes, so I applied the darkest shade of eye shadow I own to my eyelids and enhanced my lashes with more mascara than necessary. My green eyes popped from the contrast with my eye makeup. I wanted my lips to be nearly as dark as my eyes, but wearing that before I left would raise an eyebrow on my husband's face, so I decided on clear lip gloss for now. I recalled that as part of a Halloween costume, I'd purchased a tube of dark burgundy lipstick, which I found tucked at the back of my make-up drawer. I could apply that seductive color once I was safely out of the house. I slipped the lipstick into my purse and started getting dressed.

I started with the garter, sliding it up my legs and over my hips; the four attachment straps for my stockings hung loosely along my creamy white thighs. Besides a leather coat, I've never worn leather so close to my smooth flesh. The thong was supple and hugged my loins nicely, and to my surprise, the thin straps that ran over my hips and into the flesh between my ass cheeks felt beautiful.

The bra felt precisely the same against my breasts, but the more robust fabric and firmer cups lifted my tits and squeezed them, which accented my cleavage, giving me the look of a woman with much larger tits. I couldn't wait to see the complete package and carefully gathered one silk stocking on my fingers, then slid my toes in and smoothed the luxurious silk up my leg. The second stocking slipped on as quickly as the first, and after adjusting the length of the garter connecting straps, I clipped the top hem of my stockings to my sexy new garter. Before slipping into my five-inch stilettos, I checked my reflection in the full-view mirror on the bathroom door to ensure the seams ran straight and true up the back of my shapely legs. I had to adjust one stocking, but I finally slipped on my heels and again surveyed my reflection in the mirror. That image brought a smile to my lips; not only did the stilettos enhance my legs, but the seams entered the back of the shoes at the very center of the heel.

It was nearly five-forty-five, and like clockwork, I heard the garage door open, signaling Paul's arrival from work. I slipped on my full-length raincoat, buttoned it completely, and tied the belt tightly around my waist. As I descended the stairs, Paul was standing in the foyer.

"You're going through with this?" He asked.

I gave him a half-hearted grin and said, "I sure am."

Once at the bottom, I turned enough so he could see the arrow-straight seams of my stockings, and when I faced him again, he remarked, "With those stockings, heels, and that makeup, you look like a whore."

I smiled and replied, "Thanks for the compliment."

With my tiny clutch handbag in one hand and my car keys in the other, I sauntered across the kitchen, letting my hips sway seductively. As I opened the door to the garage, I looked over my shoulder and said, "Don't wait up for me."

Before the door closed, I heard him reply, "Fuck you!"

I arrived at Jerry's apartment complex at ten of seven, allowing me time to wipe the clear gloss from my lips and apply the vibrant burgundy color to complete my preparations for what I hoped would be an enjoyable night.

The rain had let up a little, and as I slipped out of the minivan, it was just drizzling. The anticipation nearly consumed me as I watched the seconds tick off on my wristwatch. I wanted to knock at precisely seven o'clock as he'd demanded, and once the top of the hour arrived, I slipped my watch off and placed it in my clutch.

I knocked lightly on the door, and while I waited for it to open, I untied my belt and unbuttoned my raincoat, letting the front partially open so he could see my lingerie when he answered.

I heard the deadbolt turn, and the door swung open. Like me, Jerry was dressed in black, a tight-fitting tee shirt, and jeans. "Come in," he said with a rather stern tone of voice

"Thank you, Master," I replied to his command to enter.

I took two steps inside and stopped waiting for the sound of the deadbolt again; my hands trembled as I held them at my sides.

A single lamp dimly lit his living room on the opposite side of the room. I didn't move a muscle, waiting for him to begin my submissive training.

He moved around me and stood a couple of feet away, his eyes inspecting my face and the twin pools of green lust surrounded by dark eye makeup.

His hands moved forward and grasped the fabric of my coat, opening it enough so he could see my sexy lingerie. As his eyes moved down, he said, "I approve."

I wanted to smile but resisted, knowing it very well might ruin the moment.

Jerry lifted my coat, slipped it off my shoulders, and let it slide down my arms; he grasped the coat with one hand, and the other pulled the belt from the loops at the sides. As he draped it around my neck, he said, "I'll use this in a moment."

"Turn around," he instructed.

I followed his command and turned to face the door. He moved closer to me, and I felt his hot breath on my neck as he placed one hand on my naked ass cheek. Goosebumps rose on my arms as his hand followed one thin strap down the back of my leg until his fingertips touched the lacy top hem of my silk stocking.

His domination was about to begin, and I shuddered in anticipation.

"No matter what happens, Dianna, don't move a single muscle until instructed," he said softly beside my ear.

I assumed that didn't include the muscles I use to speak, and I answered, "Yes, Master."

His hand slipped from my thigh, and a moment later, my eyes were covered with a dark, smooth fabric. He tied it tightly behind and below my ponytail. I felt his finger slip under the belt of my raincoat, and it slowly slid up my body.

"Give me your right hand," He said.

I moved my hand behind, and he grasped my wrist tightly. I felt the fabric wrap around my wrist, then tightened as Jerry secured one hand.

"The other," he demanded.

I moved my free hand behind; the fabric was used to bind both hands nearly together behind my back.

"Is that too tight," he asked.

"No, Master," I answered.

"Do you want it tighter?"

I paused momentarily, then replied, "If it pleases you, Master."

He wrapped the end of the belt several times between my hands and pulled it taut.

I knew that until he saw fit, my hands would be bound in place.

His hand slowly slid up one arm again, causing me to shudder a little, but his grip tightened just above my elbow enough to cause me to wince.

"Come with me," he said as he pulled my arm from behind.

He said, "Do you remember the rules I've set forth as he led me across the room?"

"Yes, Master," I answered.

"Very good, let's begin," he said as my thighs touched a hard surface.

He stood behind me, placing his hand in the middle of my back, pushing me forward, and bending me at the waist. My torso touched the surface of his dining room table, and Jerry lifted my arms, causing a twinge of pain in my shoulders.

I didn't respond to the pain.

I heard his zipper moving, and a moment later, he hooked one finger under the thin leather strap between my ass cheeks and pulled it aside.

He was going to fuck me. I'd only been in his place for perhaps ten minutes, and he was ready to slam his rock-hard cock inside me. Foreplay is not a part of being submissive, at least not in his mind.

I felt his cock head touch my labia, and with one powerful thrust, he impaled me, his erect cock slamming into my cervix. My cunt was dry, and the friction of his deep penetration caused me to say, "Ow."

A moment later, I felt the stinging of a hard slap on my ass cheek. "Did I give you permission to speak, slave?" He exclaimed.

I didn't reply, knowing that if I answered, I might feel that stinging sensation on my other cheek.

The sensation of having his big hard cock inside me caused my cunt to excrete much-needed lubricant, and when he withdrew, his cock slipped outside much easier than when it entered.

He began pounding me from behind, and each time his rock-hard cock hit bottom, my body slid across the table more.

"Your fucking cunt is getting nice and wet," he remarked.

I let the moisture of my tight cunt and my movements back to meet his thrusts serve as my reply.

Jerry fucked me from behind for several minutes, and I began to worry about his incredible cock bringing me to climax, knowing that I would displease him if I allowed that to happen.

He seemed to sense that and withdrew. His hand reached for my arm again and pulled me to a standing position.

"Turn around," he commanded.

I turned to face him, and his hands instantly rose to my shoulders as he said, "On your knees, cunt."

Now I'm not opposed to having a man call my pussy a cunt, but for him to use the term in that way was somewhat demeaning, a fact that I'd have to get used to if I were to become his perfect submissive, hot-wife.

As my knees touched the carpet, he moved one hand to the back of my head and wrapped his fingers around my ponytail.

"I'm gonna fuck your mouth just like I fucked your tight cunt," he hoarsely said.

I thought about replying, but opened my mouth, extended my tongue, and waited for the inevitable.

His cock head touched my tongue, the foreskin covering his glans and corona. I felt the flesh begin to slide, and a moment later, his frenulum was resting on my moist flesh. I didn't detect his smegma taste, knowing that it was removed as he pummeled me from behind.

"Suck it cunt!" he exclaimed.

Again I felt degraded, and I said, "Master, please don't call me a cunt."

I'd spoken without his permission, and his punishment was swift and severe; his hand cracked against my cheek, not as hard as he had slapped my ass earlier, but hard enough to sting and cause my head to move aside so his cock head slipped off my tongue.

"I'll call you any fuckin' thing I want," he scolded me.

His grip on my hair tightened, and he held my head firmly as he rammed his hard cock inside my mouth. I gasped, filling my lungs, knowing that he would be embedding his cock in my throat, and I wasn't sure how long it would be until I could again breathe.

He thrust in, his cock head expanding the tight opening to my throat quicker than it had ever been stretched before, and in an instant, my throat engulfed his throbbing cock. His balls slapped against my chin, and my nose pressed into the curly patch of pubic hair above his cock.

"That's it slut," he remarked as he held my head tightly against his loins.

I wanted to suck him, pleasure his cock head and flaring corona with my tongue and lips, but with my hands bound behind me and his firm grip on my head, I could do little more than swallow to pleasure his cock with my throat muscles.

This whole submissive thing had its drawbacks. I had promised to submit to his every sexual whim, and it seemed like he was testing my resolve.

My lungs began to burn, and I tried pressing my head back to signal him I needed to breathe, but Jerry's strong hand held me firmly; his throbbing, twitching cock continued to block my airways.

I became seriously concerned about losing consciousness, and I'm not sure if he counted the seconds since I last filled my lungs, but mercifully, he finally withdrew. I gasped for air, coughing and spitting saliva from my mouth. My heart pounded as I tried to bring myself back to reality.

"Do you want it again?" he asked.

Between gasps, I replied, "Yes, Master,"

His hand drew me forward, and once again, he was embedded in my throat.

"That's a good little cocksucker," he remarked as I caressed his cock head with my throat muscles.

He didn't keep his cock stuffed down my throat as long this time; I knew that, like every other man on the planet, the sensation of having me pleasure his quivering cock with my tongue, lips, and soft wet mouth outweighed the feeling of being deep in my throat.

As he withdrew, he kept his cock head inside my mouth, and I instantly began sliding my tongue over every part of his rock-hard cock. My lips caressed his throbbing shaft, and he began moving my head with his hand back and forth, stopping just short of the entrance to my throat.

I love watching a man as I pleasure him orally, but with my sense of vision blocked by his blindfold, I was forced to concentrate on his rock-hard cock with my other senses. It seemed to throb more distinctly and tasted more masculine than I could recall.

Jerry withdrew his cock from my mouth and asked, "Do you want my hot cum slut?"

"Yes, Master," I instantly replied.

I opened wide, anticipating his reward, but Jerry placed his cock head on the tip of my tongue and began stroking the shaft. His foreskin was drawn up to cover his corona and glans as he stroked toward the tip and was pulled taut as he stroked down toward the base.

"I'm gonna jerk off in your mouth," he said.

"Yes, Master, fill my mouth with your beautiful thick creamy cum," I replied.

He stroked his cock in precisely the same way, not increasing the pace or pressing his cock head deeper inside my mouth.

I thought about urging him on, but knew I would be breaking his third rule about only speaking when given permission, so I waited patiently for his reward.

Unable to use my sense of sight to watch for the telltale signs on his face that he was about to climax, I listened intently for a warning. That warning came as a deep guttural groan, signaling his impending orgasm.

"YES!" He exclaimed as his balls pumped his sperm-filled cum along his urethra. What followed could only be described as inspiring; his cock exploded, firing hot wad after searing hot wad of creamy, thick cum into my mouth.

I kept my mouth wide open until I felt his cum began to drip off my tongue, and then I closed my lips around his cock head while he continued pumping his load inside. I swallow once, then again, not wanting to lose a single drop.

His orgasm slowed, and as his cock oozed the final few drops, he said, "You love the taste of my hot cum load, don't you slut."

I wanted to respond, but I was still dealing with the incredible amount of cum he'd pumped into my mouth.

He withdrew his cock and slapped it against the spot where his hand had cracked me earlier, leaving a wet mark on my cheek.

He removed his death grip on my hair as I tried my best to slurp every drop from inside my mouth. His cum tasted incredible, and as his submissive cum slut, I didn't want to waste a single droplet.

I lowered my head and waited for my master to speak.

"On your feet, cunt," he said, knowing that his use of the word upset me.

As I stood before him, he roughly squeezed my leather-covered tits, then said, "I'm gonna take you to my dungeon and continue your training."

Jerry led me to his bedroom, or dungeon as he called it, and once inside, he said. "I'm going to untie your hands, but don't you dare move a muscle."

I answered, "I understand, Master."

It felt good to move my arms again once he'd removed the belt that held them tightly for so long.

"Stand perfectly still," he commended.

"Yes, Master," I answered.

Jerry moved away for a moment; then, I felt his presence again behind me. His arms moved over my shoulders, and a thin strap slipped across one naked shoulder.

"Open your mouth," he instructed.

My lips opened wide, and he pressed a hard ball between them; as he clasped the straps behind my head, he said, "This will ensure that you don't speak a word."

The gag ball he'd applied wasn't uncomfortable, but it took a few moments for my lips, teeth, and jaw to become accustomed to being held open.

"Come with me," he said as he gripped my wrist tightly.

I followed his lead to the side of the bed, where he instructed, "Lie down in the middle."

I sat down, then moved to what I hoped was the middle and waited for his next command.

He didn't speak; instead, he grasped one wrist and stretched my arm up and out from my shoulder. I felt soft leather circle my wrist, and a moment later, my arm stretched even further out. I heard him walking around the foot of the bed, and he applied the same constraint to my other arm.

He was binding me to his bed, and my excitement built when I realized I couldn't move at all. My mind raced with the thoughts of what he might be planning for me. His strong hand grasped one ankle, and within a minute, my legs were pulled as taut as my arms.

I heard him move away from the bed, then the sound of a zipper opening. I shuddered, thinking the zipper was his pants, but Jerry returned to sit on the edge of the bed.

"This is my pleasure tool," Jerry said as he ran the tip of it along the inside of my thigh over my loins and stomach, finally lifting it from my skin after circling my breasts once.

"And this is my punishment tool," he said as he drew the tips of a leather flogger along the same path.

He slid his fingers to the clasp holding my leather bra to my tits and undid it sliding the cups off and exposing my chest and erect nipples.

He leaned close to my ear and very softly said, "You will submit to the sensations of both, but as your master, I will NOT allow you to reach orgasm. If you do, my punishment will be swift and severe."

I could only nod my head affirmatively to reply.

I heard a switch being moved, and instantly, a humming sound filled the room. He touched the tip of his vibrating tool of pleasure to one taut nipple, causing me to shudder involuntarily. While he teased my chest with his device, I felt the tails of his flogger slide along my leg. I arched my hips, wanting the leather straps to slide deeper as he moved it through my loins.

With the flip of his wrist, the leather flogger slapped against my abdomen, not hard enough to cause any pain, but to let me know that his tool of punishment could inflict severe pain if my master saw fit.

My body reacted to the sense of touch and began to tingle.

Jerry moved his vibrating toy down across my belly and between my restrained legs. He touched the tip to my clit for only a moment, then moved it down and pressed it firmly against my labia. Once again, I arched my hips, wanting the pressure to increase.

With another flip of his wrist, the leather tails of his flogger landed on my tits. I groaned at the sensation it caused in my tits.

He flipped his wrist once again; this time, the leather snapped against my naked flesh, stinging a little. "You are not permitted to make any sound," he warned me.

Jerry continued using his tools on me for an eternity, sliding the leather tails over my quivering flesh and moving the vibrating head of his pleasure tool up and down my restrained form, training me to become his submissive.

You can do this, Dianna, I thought; you can endure the pleasure without reaching climax; you can please your master.

What I didn't realize was he was setting me up for failure.

He moved his flogger between my legs, the tails resting between my knees. Using the butt end of the handle, Jerry moved the leather triangle of my thong aside and slipped the end inside my soaking wet cunt. His vibrating ball of pleasure pressed against my pulsing clit, and he held it there. Slow, almost too slowly, he began fucking my cunt with the handle. I arched my hips, wanting it deeper, and pressed my clit tighter against the vibrator.

He fucked me like that for several minutes, slowly, then faster and deeper. He wanted me to climax; he wanted me to fail, and he wanted to inflict his dominant punishment on me.

I began to feel the onslaught of my orgasm, my body convulsing against his tools of pleasure, but as I felt it start, Jerry withdrew both from my body, leaving me twitching, shaking, and craving for the climax.

I willed my body to stop, wanting to prove to my master that I could control the reaction to his sensual tools.

As my breathing slowly returned to normal, Jerry again leaned down next to my ear. "That was your first test," he said.

Somehow, I knew my second wouldn't be passed as easily.

"I'm going to remove your restraints, and you will immediately turn over and get up on all fours. Grasp the headboard, and unless you want my punishment, you will not remove your hands.

I felt him get up off the bed, and for a minute, I lay waiting for my master.

I felt one leg restrain slip from my ankle, followed by the other. A moment later, my wrists were freed, and as he instructed, I immediately turned over, rose on all fours, and grasped the headboard. I felt the strap holding the gag ball loosen, and I let it fall to the bed from my mouth. His fingers untied the blindfold's black fabric, and I opened my eyes as it slipped off my face.

I looked over my shoulder and understood what was about to happen. Jerry had removed his clothes and was sitting on his haunches behind me. His erect, rock-hard cock pointed up from his loins. For the first time since I began my search for sexual satisfaction, a sense of fear came over me. He was going to assault me with his ultimate tool, a tool that I knew would send me clawing toward the pinnacle of ecstasy. His second test would be for me to endure his invasion without allowing my body to surrender to the one desire I crave most.

As he rose from his haunches, I turned my head and began staring at the headboard before my face. His hands touched my ass and then pushed, spreading my loins completely open. I felt the cock head touch me, and as he slipped it between my soaking wet lips, I felt the flesh of his foreskin peel back along his throbbing rock-hard cock shaft. Ever so slowly, he entered me, his cock touching every part of my quivering cunt.

"Do you like my big rock-hard cock, slut?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Master," I instantly answered.

He withdrew entirely, and my lips remained open in anticipation of his next plunge into my watery depths.

His second thrust was a little faster and more forceful; this time, his cock head pressed firmer against my cervix.

"Do you want to cum, cunt?" he asked.

"No, Master," I lied.

Jerry knew I was lying and started increasing the pace and force of his assault.

I felt his fingers dig into my flesh as he pummeled me from behind.

"You know you wanna cum, bitch," he remarked.

"No, Master," I answered again.

As he continued flailing my quivering cunt, I began feeling the numbness of an impending climax. How was I to control my body, control my senses, and not cum if he persisted with his assault?

At that very moment, I realized he wanted me to fail his test. His dominant fetish was to inflict pleasure first, but, more importantly, inflict pain once he caused me to fail. I surrendered to my lust for pleasure, unlocking the floodgates of ecstasy, and as my climax began, I screamed, "Master, I'm cumming!"

As he'd warned, my failure would result in punishment, swift and severe, and his hand cracked against my ass, heightening the pleasure of my orgasm. My cunt, his submissive cunt, flooded with juices bathing his throbbing cock in a tidal wave of cum.

"Fuck me, Master," I squealed as my orgasm carried me to untold heights of pleasure.

His hand again slammed against my ass as punishment for speaking without his permission. This slap, harder than the first, sent a twinge of pain through my quivering flesh.

He withdrew, leaving my body twitching and convulsing as I waited for my orgasm to subside.

"You failed my test," he announced.

"I'm sorry, Master," I replied, wanting to add he had set me up for failure.

"You understand the consequences of failure?" Jerry asked.

"Yes, Master," I answered.

"Are you ready to accept the punishment of failure?" He asked.

"I am, Master," I replied.

"Your punishment will be six lashes, and you will count as I administer them," he said.

I turned a little to watch as he prepared to dole out my punishment. With his flogger held at arms-length, he swung it toward me, and the leather tails cracked against my ass, sending sharp pain to my very core.

"One Master," I said as I turned my head toward the headboard again.

I heard the swift movement of his arm and the flogger as it struck me a second time.

"Two, Master," I said, tears beginning to well up in my eyes.

He cracked his tool of punishment against my soft flesh again.

"Three Master," I said, much quieter than before, the tears now free-flowing from my eyes.

In rapid succession, he administrated lash numbers four, five, and six, and I tried to count them, but before I could say, "Four, the next cracked against my burning flesh.

I finally announced, "Six Master long after his whip had struck my tanned ass.

I dropped my hands from the headboard and buried my face in a pillow, the tears of pain cascading directly into the pillowcase's soft material.

It felt like my ass was on fire, and I knew bright red welts had risen on my tender flesh.

My master wasn't done with me.

His strong hand grasped my wrist, pulling me from the bed. I fell to the floor, his grip the only thing keeping me from total collapse.

My tears now flowed over my cheeks, through my lips, their taste reaching my taste buds and dripping off my chin onto my tits.

With an almost satanic look on his face, Jerry said, "Suck your master's cock, cunt."

"Yes, Master," I answered weakly. I rose to my knees, dismissing some of the pressure on my stinging ass, bringing my lips in line with his throbbing cock.

His hands, those hands that had pleasured, then abused me moments before, rested on his hips. He would not participate in this final act of submission; it was up to his slave to pleasure his cock and bring him to the edge of ecstasy and beyond.

I parted my moist, tear-soaked lips and moved my head toward his raging erection. As the head slipped inside, I closed my lips around his pulsing shaft. His cock head slithered along my tongue until I pressed it against the entrance of my throat.

"Swallow it, bitch," he demanded.

I pushed firmer against his cock, and the head slid into the soft, warm tissue of my throat. I didn't stop until my tear-soaked cheeks touched his pubic mound, and my lower lips caressed his scrotum.

He moaned.

I withdrew until only the head remained inside my wet, willing mouth, then plunged again, stuffing his raging rock-hard cock into the core of my oral cavity.

"Suck it cunt," he said, his lascivious stare continuing toward my face.

Again and over again, I throated his pulsing erection, slurping and swallowing the excess saliva my mouth was producing.

His cock surged inside, and I knew he was nearing the point of no return. I wanted his thick hot cum; even though he'd abused me roughly, I still wanted the taste of his seed.

"Make me cum, slut," he nearly demanded.

I withdrew his rock-hard cock from my throat and began sucking and licking his cock with only my lips, tongue, and soft tissue of my cheeks.

"You want me to cum in your mouth, don't you, cunt," he said.

I let him slip from my lips only long enough to reply, "Yes, Master, fill my hot cunt mouth with your load."

His eyes tightened to minuscule slits as he said, "You don't deserve to taste my cum, you failed, and as part of your punishment, you'll endure a facial cum bath."

"Yes, Master, shoot your hot cum all over my slut face," I replied.

He grasped his pulsing cock shaft and began stroking the length. I closed my lips, showing him that I accepted his final punishment and would not allow any of his hot, thick, creamy load to enter my mouth.

His hand moved slowly along the length of his cock shaft, twisting around the corona at the top and stretching his foreskin taut as he stroked down.

"Cum for me, Master," I said, urging him on.

"Close your fucking mouth, cunt," he replied as he slapped his cock head against my cheek, punishing me for speaking without permission.

I stared at his urethra, waiting to see the surge as it approached the tip of his cock head.

He stroked it a few more times, and his cock swelled, the urethra bulging noticeably just before he exploded. His flesh-burning cum sailed toward me, splashing first on my forehead, then a second slamming into one eye, the third overlapping my nose and upper lip. As his balls completed pumping hot thick cum at me, he lowered his cock head and oozed the final few drops below my mouth, coating my chin.

His cum bath complete, he released his cock, and I considered taking it in my mouth for a moment, but knew if I did, his punishment would be swift and severe.

I just knelt before him as he admired the artwork he'd covered my face with.

He sat on the bed as I rose to stand before him, cum dripping from my face onto my tits.

"Get out, cunt, and don't contact me again. If I choose to give you another chance to become my true submissive, I'll contact you," he said matter-of-factly.

"Master, can I clean up first," I asked.

"Get out NOW!" He exclaimed.

Tears of anguish began flowing from my eyes, and as I collected my things and slipped my raincoat over my abused body, I wondered if this was all worth it.

The rain was falling steadily as I walked out of his building. By the time I made it to my car, it had mixed with my tears, his thick cum, and soaked my hair. It hurt to sit, but I sat in the driver's seat, staring at the windshield as the raindrops obscured my view. I cried for a very long time. I found a rag between the seats and used it to wipe my face clean, keeping my lips closed tightly so I wouldn't have to endure the taste of him for a single moment.

Jerry had shown me his real personality tonight, a domineering satanic side that was nothing like the gentle, passionate, caring man I first met at O'Neil's. I wasn't so sure I liked his true personality. I felt demeaned, not by the way he treated me, hell that was to be expected, but by his use of the word, cunt hurt more than the six lashes he gave me for failing his submissive sexual test.

Yes, I have a cunt, and I love having it filled with a big throbbing rock-hard cock, but I am not a cunt. I'm a woman with feelings, needs, and emotions. I feared that he might have scared me emotionally tonight with his use of such a demeaning term, and somehow, I didn't think I could recover from those scars.

My tears of sorrow continued while I drove home and didn't stop after I'd stripped my body of his requested lingerie. It wasn't until I was curled up in a fetal position under my soft comforter that my tears finally subsided. Sleep captured me surprisingly quickly, a sleep that I hoped would wash away the sorrow in my heart.