I'm in training. I have chosen to be in training. I have asked Oliver to enforce strict disciple and he has, happily, agreed. Today was an example. We were driving along - Oliver enjoys driving - and suddenly we stopped. We were on a deserted country road and he told me to get out of the car. I questioned him and he gave me THAT look. The look that says don't question me. The look that says he is about to instill discipline. The look that says Do as he says or suffer the consequences. 

I got out of the car. He bent me over the hood of the car, took off his belt, and walloped my bottom. I cried and stomped my feet, but I remained in place. When he finished, he took my panties off completely, left them on the road, and told me to get back in the car. Now I understood! I am allowed to wear panties only with his permission. Today, he didn't give that permission yet, out of habit, I wore them beneath my sundress anyway.

I wiped my tears and did so, not saying a word. I was rather proud of myself. A week ago I would have balked at all of this. Now, I accept it as his right, a right which I have freely given to him. If he wants to take a belt to my ass just for his own pleasure, he may do so. Or, if he deems that this is the consequence of breaking an expectation, he may certainly do so! He is, after all, my lord and Master.

"You understand why you were just punished?" he asked as he put the car in gear.

"I do, Oliver."

"And do you have anything else to say, Vesta?" he asked.

I sniffed and said, "Only that I'm glad you correct me. I didn't even think when I put on the panties. I just did it out of habit. Now, though, you can be damned sure I'll remember. That belt hurts like hell!"

He looked at me and grinned. I grinned back. I really was happy about the quick correction! I was also horny as hell.

A short time later he pulled over again. I was terrified that he'd want to belt my ass again and it was already on fire! No, he had something else in mind. He parked the car and opened my door, holding out his hand. We then went for a hike in the woods.

Once we were past the sight of the road, he made me strip. Completely. I didn't want to and was slow about it.

"The longer you make me wait, the more likely you are to be corrected again."

He reminded me that I had asked for strict training and that if I was serious about wanting this, I'd obey him. Oliver is right. So, I obeyed. I quickly unzipped my dress, handed it to him, and stepped out of my sandals. Luckily, the path we were on was covered in thick, soft grass.

He then unzipped his pants and ordered me to suck him. I did - grateful. I love worshipping his cock. He apparently enjoys it as well because soon he grew even larger. Suddenly, he pulled out. I whimpered in protest, wanting, desperately wanting, him to come in my mouth. Instead, he sprayed his beautiful, hot cum across my breasts

"I was going to let you taste me, but because you hesitated to obey me, you can wear my cum instead," he calmly explained. I cried, this time from shame. He was right.

Seeing my tears, he bent, kissed me, and told me that despite my hesitation, he was proud of me.

"I know this is difficult, Vesta, but I know you. If I let any infraction go, even a small one, you will take advantage of that small mercy, won't you?"

I sniffed and answered. "You're right. I will."

"That's why I have no intention of showing you any mercy whatsoever. It's going to be a difficult few weeks for you, but if you still want to live a 24/7 BDSM life, this is the way it has to be. You can always use your safeword, though. You know I'll respect it."

"I know, O. I know. And yes, I do want to live this lifestyle," I answered. I looked up at him and smiled. I really did want this.

He held out his hand to help me to my feet. I looked at my clothing which lay on the ground by his feet. I looked at his hand. He was giving me a choice. Follow him or not. I took his hand and walked naked back to the car.

I stood by the car, waiting for him to open the door for me. He did, with my dress and shoes in his hand.

Putting the car in gear, we started off again. He draped my dress over me so that we wouldn't corrupt any of the other people in the cars we passed. When we got home, he pulled into our attached garage. I waited for him to come open the door for me. When he did, I began to open the door to the kitchen, but he stopped me.

"I rather liked you over the hood of the car. Why don't you assume that position again? I want to check your belt welts anyway."

I bend over the hood, feeling the warmth from the sun and engine on my skin when I pressed my bare breasts against the metal. he ran his hand down my backside, soothing the matching warmth there.

"Not bad at all," he commented. "Your skin will likely be slightly marked for a few hours, maybe even tomorrow, but shouldn't bruise. How does it feel?"

"It's tender, but not painful anymore," I answered honestly.

"Good. Spread your legs wide. Wider." He slapped my ass hard. "Wider!"

I spread them as wide as I could.

"Good. Now, your arms. Basically, I want you spread-eagle."

I obeyed.

"This is going to hurt, but if it's too much, use your safeword."

"Ok," I promised and tried to brace myself for whatever was about to come.

"This isn't a punishment, Vesta. I just want to try this to see how you react."

He slapped me between my legs. Hard! I squealed, the pain shooting through my body. The pleasure drowned me. Three more times he spanked my wide-open pussy, each time the pain became sharper and the pleasure more intense.

"Please!" I screamed on the last slap.

"Please what?"

"Please may I come?"

"Absolutely."

And I did. My pleasure quaked through my body, separating my mind from my physical form. Before I could recover, he plunged his cock inside my quivering tunnel and fisted my hair. He fucked me hard, refusing to allow my body time to adjust.

"You're such a slut, Vesta. You're a pain slut. A cock slut. Any type of slut I want, aren't you? I should have trained you years ago. You love this. You loved me spanking your pretty pussy. I'm going to have to do that more often, aren't I?"

I couldn't answer, but his words penetrated my very soul and I felt the truth of them. I was a slut. A slut for anything he wanted or needed of me.

He fucked me for minutes, hours, days. I didn't know. Time ceased to exist. He came, this time inside of me, searing my tunnel with his hot stream. I was grateful and came again, milking him with my muscles. When my flight of pleasure landed, I slide to the concrete floor, thankful for the coolness, and sucked his cock. I wanted, needed every drop of him. I licked him from base to tip and back down again. I sucked each of his balls, gently. I kissed his thighs, his calves, and his feet.

I am His.