There is only darkness. I am immersed in it, surrounded by a deep and enveloping blackness that is unbroken by even the slightest sliver of light. I can hear no sounds, not that I expect to. Our basement Sanctum is completely soundproofed. Master has ensured that no one on the outside would ever be able to hear my screams.
‘Silent! I need to be silent.’ I remind myself as thoughts both fearful and erotic flash through my mind. I want desperately for my fear to escape through my whimpers, but I know He would only consider this to be a weakness. That is the one thing I will never allow. So, I make no sound at all, save for my breath. This, too, I try to control. In this, at least, my efforts fail, and my breath comes deeper and more frantic as the moments continue to pass.
Soon, my toes grow numb as the unrelenting cold of the basement floor begins to suck the warmth from my feet. I am unsure of how long I've been down here. Not long in minutes perhaps, but long enough for my heart to race, and for my fear to rise in my belly. Despite this, and my natural urge to flee, I remain, unmoving, in the center of my circle. At least I desperately hope that is where I am. Considering Master’s mood, failing to follow even such a simple command would be… painful.
I am terribly afraid, but beyond my fear is a growing excitement. It is bubbling quietly in my blood for the moment, but I know it will soon be boiling hotly in my veins. I am like an addict, and my craving for what is to come, holds me in place despite my terror. It is then I feel the first trickle of moisture form in my cunt. 'My Master's cunt,' I remind myself.
As always, I am shocked that my body might react this way to what will soon happen to me. It is there though, hot and wet, and I almost whimper at this undeniable sign of my need. ‘Oh, my god, I’m such a fucking slut!’
Those words exist only in my mind. Forbidden to speak, I remain silent, moving not a muscle as I wait for Him, and for my punishment.
‘I am Pet. This is who I am.'
I had another name once, a name like other girls have. It was a name given to me by a mother who didn’t love me, and another inherited from a father who loved alcohol more than he loved his own daughter. It was a real name, but it had no real meaning, not to me anyway. Now, I am Pet. It is beautiful in its simplicity and rich with its meaning. I try not to think of the name I had before.
I am Pet now, and despite my failure, I know with absolute certainty that whatever happens to me, it will be only as much as I need. He will be sure of that. It is a calming thought. My trust in Him is absolute. I know that as much as my body belongs to him, so does my faith. I allow my mind to go quiet and I breathe in deeply.
Yes, it is still there. It is fainter now, but when I try, I can still smell the aroma of man-cum. I can still feel the thin residue on my face where I wiped it away. I feel it more thickly on my breasts and thighs, and on my back.
On those parts of my body, only my thin shirt and leggings have lifted the cum from my skin. I am not sure how many loads I wear. Three? Four? More? The number doesn't matter. What matters is that none of it is His. I have allowed myself to be defiled. I am certain that is why Master allowed me to wear my clothing when he sent me down here. I am sure they too will be cleansed, just as my body will be.
‘I have betrayed my Master!’ The piteous thought echoes in my mind. He, who saved me from myself, and from a life of unhappiness, and all because I chose to provoke his anger.
‘Oh, god! What have I done?!’ A better question at that moment might be, what was He going to do to me?
It is then that I hear the metal door clang open and the harsh, undiffused light flashes on from a single bulb. My eyes suddenly burn from the brightness, and I squeeze them shut for a moment, careful to keep my hands at my side.
Master grants me not a word as he walks toward the wall where a number of medieval looking cuffs, shackles and other binding devices hang upon iron pegs. A great sense of dread comes over me as I watch him impassively inspect the collection. I follow his gaze as best I can as it roams from one evil looking device to another. Possibilities play out in my mind as to what form of punishment I am to endure. Each dreadful scene spawned again and again by the particular type of binding that would be needed to secure me in its execution.
My heart races and my belly twists in a nauseating cocktail of fear and lust as I watch Him choose the device He will use to bind me. Finally, he lifts a set from its peg.
Silently, and showing no sign of mercy, he approaches and motions for me to hold out my wrists. My eyes plead piteously for mercy, and a quiver of fear crosses my lip as I behold what He carries. Each cuff is three inches wide and a quarter inch thick of stiff, black leather. I know from experience that they will offer no forgiveness when they are stressed and taut. Moreover, the fact that he chose this particular set, with its short connecting chain, speaks volumes about His intentions for me this night.
"Hold out your wrists, Pet," he says calmly, as if it means nothing. His tone carries a certainty that I will obey.
"Yes, Master," I respond meekly. I lift my arms and hold them close together in front of me, proving that he is right.
Silently, he draws each cuff so tightly around my slim wrists that I am wincing in pain before he even finishes lacing them. My heart pounds in my chest and the first tremble of the night runs through me as I feel their grip on my wrists. Swallowing nervously, I know it was but the first tremble of many I will feel before this night ends.
I watch as Master walks away. My nervous trembles turn to a stomach-wrenching fear as he begins to unspool a length of heavy chain from the mechanical winch mounted to our basement floor. My eyes must be wide with fear, and I almost make the mistake of whining out-loud, but I catch myself in time. Somehow, I manage to remain silent and still as he goes about his work.
Wordlessly, and seemingly without concern for my fear, he loops the chain from the winch through the wrought iron loop mounted in our basement ceiling. Outwardly, I remain passive as my training demands, but my heart is pounding in my chest as he draws it down and clamps the end to the center link of my shackle's short connecting chain. His dark and noble face is blank and emotionless as he goes about his task, but his choice of the whipping ring for my punishment tells me everything I need to know.
'I’ve really done it this time.'
The mechanical click-clank of the locking bolt slipping over the gears reverberates right into my bones, and I watch in morbid fascination as my Master calmly turns the handle. As the wooden spool goes round and round, the chain pulls back, dragging me under the Ring. My arms are drawn irresistibly upward and over my head until I am barely able to keep my feet on the cold, concrete floor. The final clank of the bolt dropping into place seems to pierce my skin, but after that, there is only silence.
*****
I have been here before, of course. I have been a particularly difficult slave for Master to train and have often forced Him to punish me. Usually, my transgressions do not merit such… extreme measures. Only three times in the years I have been His, has he used the Ring.
The fact that I am here again brings these memories back, and my stomach swirls with conflict as I remember how this punishment felt. More worrisome to me is that in none of those times was Master so personally hurt by my failure.
My Master is a very wealthy man. When he discovered me, I was but a wretched, if attractive young woman, working at a meaningless job in my efforts to live an even less meaningful life.
He watched me for a time each day as I brought him his meal. He was polite and guarded, but something about him made my heart flutter. He is a man of few words, and that day, like the many days before and since, he spoke only when he had something to say. Even still, I felt as if I'd fallen into his orbit, and knew I could do nothing to escape his attraction. It was only when he finished his meal that day did he grab my arm in his powerful hand.
His touch was hot, and I felt as if an electric charge were suddenly flowing through me as he held my gaze. I did not resist or try to pull away. From the start, we both knew that I could never deny him.
"I am leaving now," he said calmly. "and you are coming with me."
I was thunder-struck. I should have laughed and told him, no! How could he even think I would just leave my job and follow him out? Yet, I could only nod. My entire body became a mass of nerves as I followed him out of the restaurant.
***
"Speak, Pet. Why do you reek of cum?"
Master's strong baritone snaps me out of my memories, and I resist the urge to meet his gaze. "Because I have allowed other men to use me, Sir." I respond honestly.
Lying to him now would be worse than useless. Besides, I had never intended to keep the truth from Him. That is why I didn't clean up before presenting myself to him in his study.
Master doesn't touch me, but I can feel his gaze burning into me. I can almost taste his anger, and his disappointment. With a single finger under my chin, He raises my head, forcing me to look into his dark and brooding eyes.
"This is my fault, isn't it, Pet?"
Instead of the anger I expect, there is only a sense of sadness in his voice. It is a mournful, pained tone that strikes me far more deeply than merely being cursed by his rage.
"No!," I protest, rebelling against the very idea that He might have caused my infidelity. "It is my failing, Sir! I am a worthless slut. I gave myself to those men!"
Master looks at me and a shadow of doubt darkens his already stern and stoic visage. "Really? So you are telling me you went to the spa and let more than one man fuck you? By the look of it, you were used quite roughly. I'm sure you were willing. Such an extreme act begs the question, Pet. Why? Why would you do that? If you needed to be used, why not come to me?"
The question pierces my heart and I freeze, unable to say the only answer I can possibly give.
Master takes my face in his hand and squeezes my cheeks between his fingers. "I won't ask again, Pet. Tell me why."
His touch sends me reeling, and my mind swims against the rising tide of conflict swirling in my heart. I could never deny his demands, yet in telling him the truth, I risk doing the one thing I've never dared do before. Question his need for me. Finally, unable to bare his displeasure, hot tears begin flowing down my face as the words spill uncontrollably from my lips.
"Because you have been so busy, Master. I needed your touch, but you have spent so many days working in your study. I needed to feel your love, even if it meant feeling your anger first."
Master sighs and steps back. His normally proud and confident air is lost, replaced by a look of sorrow I have never seen so pronounced on his face. Pulling his kerchief from his breast pocket, he wipes away my tears, along with the slight residue of cum from my lips.
"You see, Pet? This is my fault. I have a responsibility to provide you with all of your needs, yet I have failed to supply you with the love and attention you crave. I assure you, Pet. I will not forget my responsibility to you again, if you choose to remain with me."
A sudden terror fills my heart. "If I choose to remain, Sir? I have no desire to leave. I love you, Master!"
"Shush, Pet. I know how you feel, but you have done something today I cannot ignore. If I were to overlook your transgressions, our relationship would be forever changed. You would believe there was room for defiance. For deceit. This is something I cannot tolerate. I may have caused you to act out, Pet, but you still must accept punishment if you are to remain with me. So, the choice is yours. Do I release you now and have Jerome take you home to your old life? Or will you remain here and accept the consequences of your actions?"
I am instantly struck by his words. I was prepared for pain, I even crave it from him, but the thought of being cast out is more frightening to me than any punishment he might inflict on my flesh. "Please, Master!" I plaintively beg him while hanging by my arms. "Let me stay! I will accept my punishment! I need it! I need the pain and the pleasure you give me."
It is the simple and honest truth. To me, the pain of the whip and the pleasure of his touch are one and the same. Without one, the other is far less intense. Even before Master allows a smile to form on his lips, my nipples have hardened to solid little buds under my top.
"I believe you, my sweet girl. Still, I am going to do things to you, tonight. I am going to hurt you, but only as much as I feel you need to be hurt, do you understand?"
I pull on my restraints, subconsciously testing them as past memories of my punishments rush through my mind. Stinging pain. Aching muscles and the torment of cold and heat, all of these things I've endured, but none of it will equal what I'd earned this night. My pussy is actually dripping with moisture as my body reacts to the promise of so much stress, and my breath heaves in my chest as my lust becomes a fever. "I understand, Master. I want to be punished. I need it so badly."
Master nods as he removes his suit jacket and then his shirt. His powerfully muscled chest flexes under his smooth skin, making me whimper as I remember the raw strength of his body.
"I know you do, Pet." He replies. "You still have your safe word, but I caution you, using it will mean you've failed, and I will send you away. Are you willing to accept that?"
A shiver passes through me at his threat, but I swallow it down and nod to Him, determined to survive the night. "Yes, Sir. I won't fail you again. I promise." I am almost crying in fear, but not of the pain. My only fear is of losing my Master's love, and I am determined to prove I am worthy to serve Him.
"Very well, then let us begin." Master circles around me with his hands clenched behind his back. I am sorely tempted to turn and follow as best as I can with my feet barely touching the ground. I do not, though. I know any move I make without permission will only anger Him.
Already, my arms are beginning to ache. I can hear him moving behind me, gathering something from the rack. Is it a cane? A whip? My body trembles again, and I suppress another whimper as I hear him approach. Then, I feel him pull my shirt away at the small of my back, followed by the touch of cold steel on my skin.
"You are covered in their cum, Pet. Your clothes are soaked in it," he says as I hear the sound of shears cutting though the baby-blue cloth. "I'm going to cut them away, and then I will cleanse your body."
I say nothing as he cuts my tee up the middle of my back, following my spine upward to the nape of my neck. I feel the cloth part, and the rush of cool air is on my back. When he cuts though the top, his fingers brush my leather collar, the symbol of his ownership of me.
"I see you haven't removed it. Tell, me, Pet. Were you wearing my collar while these men fucked you?"
I shiver at the memory and a feeling of shame heats my cheeks. "Yes, Master. I was wearing your collar. I never remove it from my neck. You placed it there and only you may remove it."
Master nudges my shirt apart, baring my naked back without touching my skin at all. "It's good that you remember that."
I find myself wanting to lean back, craving the touch of his hand, but I sense I won't be allowed this until the residue of another man has been purged. When He moves away again, I feel bereft and alone, and I long to have him hold me. That's when I hear the hiss of the flog cutting through the air.
"Ahh, fuck!!" I scream as I feel its many tendrils fly across my back. My body jerks as the stinging pain surges through me. The sudden burn is greater than I expect and my legs fail, leaving me hanging by my wrists. I dangle there for a long moment, but then the warmth on my back melts into me, merging with a darker, more feral need. I'm suddenly burning with arousal, and I stand, offering my back to Him with a hunger I cannot control.
I hear the flog cut the air again and I brace myself for its bite. To my shock, it doesn't come. Instead, Master caresses my reddening skin with his hand. Oh, God, his touch is like a balm and I whimper in gratitude for his caress.
"Tell me, Pet. Tell me what those men did to you. I want you to tell me everything."
"They fucked me, Master. What more is there to tell?" The whip hisses again and this time it doesn't miss. I feel its kiss from the middle of my back all the way down to my ass. "Ahh, ouch!," I wince and I swallow my scream as my heart pounds in my chest.
I hear Master sigh. "No, that's not it, Pet. Let's start with where it happened.