My master was in a bad mood. I could tell from the way he focused on the road ahead of us, seemingly so absorbed in the task of driving he did not even spare me a side glance for the entirety of the trip.

He had good reasons to be mad. Since the very start of the day, things had not happened according to plan. He had been planning this road trip for weeks now, waiting for the one weekend when his job would allow him to take some time off. We were supposed to leave right after his job in the morning, drive to a nature reserve far from the city, have a romantic dinner, see a movie, and then make our way to the hotel he had reserved. This is the part I myself looked most forward to, since he had promised to surprise me with a new toy.

Early that morning, we realized it was not going to be the warm, sunny day the forecast had led us to believe; it would be cold and gloomy, not the best weather for a trip to a nature reserve. Oh well; we would still enjoy the walk, and the rest of the evening.

Then, I took too long to get ready and we got to his job late. He hated it when that happened. And I hated it when he got mad at me, so I had the bright idea to meet his annoyance with annoyance of my own. By the time his job was over - I had been waiting at a nearby cafe - my irritation had boiled away. So had his, apparently, or perhaps he simply did not want to further spoil the day.

But more events were meant to not occur as planned. We had barely left the city when one of the car’s tires literally blew up. We pulled over to the side of the highway and called a tow truck. We quietly munched on our sandwiches, which we had prepared for the walk in the nature reserve, sitting in the front seats as cars and trucks speeded next to us, their force sending billows of air that shook our whole vehicle.

The tow truck took its time, and when it finally dropped us off at the auto repair, we had to wait another two hours. As we sat in a lonely roadside cafe in the industrial suburbia, the sky gloomy and the hours passing, I could feel the tension grow. By the time we were on the road again, it was almost six. There would be no time to visit the reserve, so we went straight to a movie theater. But to top it all off, the movie we had planned to see was all sold out; not at one, but at both movie theaters in the area.

“I’m not that hungry, let’s just go to the hotel,” my master said. He was pretending to be unaffected, but I could tell he was feeling a mix of sadness and disappointment. For the most part, it was neither of our faults; nonetheless, the fun day he had prepared in so much detail had been completely derailed.

“I need to make a phone call,” he announced as soon as we got into our room. As he dialed the number on his phone - it was probably work-related - I looked at my surroundings. The room was plain and well within its price range - a queen bed, a desk, yellow wallpaper, a couple subpar paintings on the walls. I noticed the heavy curtains, as well as the two mirrors facing the bed, one right above the desk and the other next to it and reaching the floor.

I was so intent in looking around that I was caught by surprise when I felt my master’s hand turn me around, grabbing at my shoulder. He was already talking over the phone and I could even hear the muffled voice on the other end.

“Yes… Sure, I think we can meet at that time…”

As he answered the muffled voice’s questions, my master made a sign for me to remove my clothes. I did, until I was left in my bra and panties. I looked back at him and he made a sign for me to remove those as well. The way he was only paying half of his attention to me and my now naked body, glancing at it at the corner of his eye as if it was just a mildly entertaining distraction from his important call, was slightly irritating. If he didn’t care about me enough to even look at me while I stripped - which he usually did, and with great interest - why should I even follow his directions at all? Couldn’t we just wait until the call ended?

My train of thought was cut short as he grabbed me by the hair with his free hand and threw me face down on the side of the bed. Bent at the waist and legs planted on the ground, I had no time to process what was happening before I felt two fingers poke and probe directly at my clit.

“We can definitely organize an event like that, we’ll just need to…”

His voice kept calm and neutral as his fingers’ assault on my sex intensified. Needless to say, in no time my entrance was dripping wet and I had to physically cover my mouth with the bedsheets to prevent any sound from reaching his phone. It was wrong, it was so wrong. Yet I could not help but enjoy it.

The fingers left and for a brief moment I thought it was over for the time being. Then I heard the sound of a zipper, and an erect penis started poking at my entrance as the fingers had seconds before. I turned my head in alarm, realizing what my master had in mind, just to see him casually nodding over the phone, the muffled voice unfaltering. His eyes were turned down, in the general direction of where he was fucking entering me right now, but they seemed lost in concentration. Was he even paying attention to what he was doing?!

As his length pierced me, first slowly and then steadily increasing in pace, I wondered how he expected me to be completely quiet - just as he was, somehow even managing to be engaged in lively conversation without a single sigh or moan interfering. I did my best, terrified by the thought of the muffled voice realizing what was going on. Did my master not care? It was his job, after all. More importantly, was fucking me such as mundane task that he could perform it completely unaffected?

I was pulled up by my hair again and dragged to the desk, where I dutifully bent over, my reflection staring back at me from the mirror on the wall. He continued to penetrate me, this time at sporadic intervals; he picked up a rhythm whenever the muffled voice was talking, and would stop (or slowly move inside of me) whenever it was his turn to speak. His free hand never left my hair, pulling my face up so that I could watch him in the mirror. He deliberately was not watching me, though, and kept his facial expression as emotionless as his tone of voice. I perfectly knew, at this point, what game he was playing; still, it hurt to be nothing more than a hole for his dick, an amusing pastime for him to play along with more important tasks. And to realize that despite all this, I would be left craving for more; and that despite all this, I would still do my best and be quiet to prevent him from getting into trouble at work.

After some time (how long would this phone call last?) he pulled out and I was left open and wanting. He pushed me to the floor and entered me once more, this time through my mouth. I lay there kneeling, naked in front of my master, pleasing his erection with my tongue and letting him fuck my face as he continued talking over the phone. Just when I thought he was getting dangerously close to orgasm - and wondered how he would pull that off without the muffled voice realizing - he left my mouth as well and stepped back to sit on the bed. Not sure what to do, saliva still dripping down my chin and my eyes watery, I turned back to see him point to the floor. I was already on the floor, so I wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted. I moved around until I realized he wanted me on my hands and knees, facing away from him.

He continued talking to that damned muffled voice while I had to patiently wait, staring at the textured wall paper in front of me. Unable to stay still, I would sometimes turn my head, wiggle my butt, or cross my legs. This would at least catch my master’s attention for a few seconds, as he would give me a stern look or harshly uncross my legs, unable to punish my upraised bottom without generating suspicious sounds. I knew I would regret it later, but I enjoyed my moment of mild unpunishable disobedience. I felt it was a just revenge for his annoying little game.

I had just started to mind-wander when I noticed the two voices behind me - my master’s and the unknown one over the phone - had finally stopped. Realizing what this meant (my fleeting state of invulnerability had ended, and any further disobedience would only make my already compromised situation worse), I resisted the temptation to turn my head to find out what my master was up to. I was positive I could feel his gaze pierce me, though, so I stood as still as possible, arching my back to expose my behind, trying to please him after having so blatantly disobeyed him.

After making me wait in silence for a few agonizing minutes, while I wondered just how much his already upset mood had been worsened by my behavior, and how much of his frustration he would release upon my soon-to-be sore body, I heard him get up from the bed and walk towards me. By the time his hand was brushing over my buttcheeks, I was shivering.

I was just waiting for that first smack, that resonating blow that, no matter what, would always catch me by surprise. I was expecting it to be repeated over and over, to cover my entire bottom with fire, to turn into a loud, angry burn with the help of some implement. Instead, all I could feel was a tender caress. And then this, “I’m sorry the day didn’t turn out how I wanted. It was supposed to be a fun day.”

My master… was apologizing? I wanted to tell him that there really was no reason to apologize, that of course it wasn’t his fault, that in any case this was the part I was looking the most forward to, but something was preventing the words from coming out of my mouth.

“I planned this a long time ago, there was no way for me to know the weather would be bad, and I really wanted to show you the park.”

“It - it’s fine. I’m still happy we could take the trip together.”

It felt weird, comforting my master while he gently caressed my upraised bottom, offered to him in submissive position. There was a long pause.

“Well. Let’s at least enjoy the time we have here. But first, I’m afraid I will have to punish you for not holding your position just now. And for making me late to work this morning, of course,” he said, suddenly squeezing my flesh hard in his hand. Right, there was no way he would have forgotten about that morning...

With that, the onslaught I had been waiting for began. Swats landed one after the other with increasing intensity, and I could feel my whole body being pushed forward by their force. I would try my best to rock backward each time, though, maintaining the position on my hands and knees. After the warm-up, I was pulled up by my hair and thrown over the bed as I had been before. Here the blows hurt even more, the skin of my butt more stretched out as I bent down over the edge of the bed. I realized I had not received a real spanking in a long time. That was only going to make this hurt more, as my body readjusted to the treatment.

That I was no longer used to the pain became obvious when my master’s hand was replaced by the brush. It was a large wooden brush and it was the first implement we had ever used. Regardless of its sentimental value, I hated and loved its unforgiving touch. This time, mostly hated. As each blow left a red rectangle of pain on my flesh, I let out half-heartedly suppressed yelps and could not help but jiggle my butt in a vain attempt to protect it.

“What’s wrong? Keep that ass up!” my master reprimanded.

He was right, I was squirming more than usual. But I just couldn’t help it, it felt so much more intense than usual! A rain of blows, hard and to the same spot, then a pause, then another series, to a slightly different but overlapping area. Right side, then left side, then right again. I stuffed my face in the bed sheets, clenching the blanket in my fists, my arms tense, my knees buckling.

I should have known the brief pause in my torment could not lead to anything good. I was still panting when I heard my master rummage through the large bag we brought with us on the trip. For a brief moment, I wondered if he was looking for the new toy he had promised. I had no idea what it could be. The last time, he had surprised with a riding crop. This time, I somehow doubted it was another spanking tool, yet I really could not wrap my head around what it could be. All I knew was that it was expensive.

Instead of the mysterious new addition to our growing collection, I saw him pull out nothing less than the aforementioned riding crop. Great.

I was just waiting for the first trail of fire that the crop would soon leave on my already reddened skin. Instead, I was pulled up once again and positioned - what a surprise! - across the desk staring at the mirror, just as I had been not even half hour ago. Now I could see myself flinch as the thick braid of black leather was raised high above me.

WHACK!

He really isn’t -

WHACK!

- holding back on the -

WHACK!

- crop!

The thought rushed through my brain as blow after blow made my body shake. Why did my poor bottom have to pay for his frustration? Most of it wasn’t even my fault!

Well, most of.

The crop continued to punish my bottom, first with sparse hard blows, then with quick and steady snaps. It made its way down the back of my thighs and then my legs. No doubt it was leaving marks behind. Using the crop, my legs were spread out wider. The pain now reached the insides of my thighs, up and up, and then suddenly my open sex. If I had not already been aware of it, the sound the crop made when it slapped against my lips revealed just how wet I was. Why did my body enjoy this so much when I could barely stand the agony? Each swat stimulated the densely packed nerve endings of my exposed clit like nothing else could, leaving me in a mixed state of pleasure and pain that soon became unbearable.

All of a sudden, everything stopped. I stayed in position, anxiously wondering what was coming this time. More rummaging sounds behind me. Something was thrown on the bed. Then my master’s cheerful voice, “Put on your swim suit! We’re going to the pool!”

Wait. What?!

He must have sensed my confusion, since he clarified:

“There’s a swimming pool in the hotel, did you forget? I told you earlier!”

That was not what was concerning me here. We were going to a public swimming pool. Where I’d be wearing a considerably revealing swimming suit. And, consequently, displaying the not so subtle marks that my master had so nicely peppered across my thighs and butt cheeks.

“But, won’t people be able to see…?”

I tried to argue, but the wicked smile on his face immediately told me it was a lost cause. Of course, he had thought of it. Of course, that’s precisely the reason we were going there.

As I got up, I looked at my back side in the mirror. Nope. The swimming suit would definitely not cover even half of those glowing red marks. I blushed, anticipating the embarrassment.

***

To my greatest relief, the swimming pool was empty.

As we let our minds and bodies relax in the boiling hot tub, I could tell my master’s mood had improved considerably. We were finally able to enjoy our time together as we relaxed, played around, and swam in the main pool which we had all to ourselves. I was about to suggest that maybe it was time to go back - I did still need to find out what the new toy was after all - when a quacking group of teenage girls entered the room. This was all the more reason to leave, I thought.

“No, let’s stay a little bit more!”

I could easily read between the lines of my master’s innocent-sounding request, the sparkle in his eyes revealing this was just what he had been waiting for. No longer at ease, I would now and then send sharp, meaningful glares towards him. The girls were now entering the pool, their obnoxiousness adding to the fear of them seeing the redness on my lower body. It would have been easy to swiftly escape as they entered. But now that we were all in the same pool, there was no way to exit without giving my back to them and offering a full view of what had been done to me. So I kept switching between the desire to leave as fast as I could and not wanting to get out of the water.

“Let’s go back into the hot tub!”

Seriously? I doubted my master could get more wicked than this. Not only would I give our new audience a little show by leaving the main pool, I would even have to be in the same room for who knows how long instead of being able to finally leave this place; Suffer their shocked stares, their whispered comments, without being able to look up from the bubbling water. And to top it all off, my master was just enjoying himself like this was the best fucking time in his life.

In reality, my exit from the main pool went mostly unnoticed. Or so I tell myself. I have no way of knowing whether one of those empty heads was turned towards me at that time, and whether comments were exchanged then or later. The same goes for when we finally - finally - got out of the hot tub as well and left the pool room - my pace noticeably faster than his.

***

Back at our hotel room, it was time for showers! On top of the relief of being back to the privacy of our room, I was looking forward to showering together with my master. The feeling of warm water caressing me, the sleekness of his soap-covered body, the sensation of silky skin against skin. For the first time that evening I was allowed to feel on the same plane as him, my hands running over his body just as his did with mine. Our lips meeting in what was both a sensual kiss but also a sign that everything was alright, that he was no longer upset.

As the water continued to rush over us, he turned me around and bent me slightly at the waist so that my hands were pressed against the tiles of the shower wall. Their cold moisture stood against my warm hands and my cheek, as my face was pressed into the wall as well. My body still sleek with soap, I quivered at the sensation of his fingers making delicate circles down my back and around my buttcheeks. I imagined much of the redness from before might have dissipated by now, though some of the marks left by the crop would probably linger for some time still. Regardless of its tenderness, my skin felt like heaven under his silky touch, and I could not help but arch my back, asking for more.

And more I received. The fingers were now trailing down towards my open pussy, its own juices mixed with soap and water. They lingered at my entrance, as if undecided whether to enter it or not, then visited my clit, then back, driving me crazy. My master had already filled me more than once today, unlike other times when I had to withstand much more teasing before being satisfied. But despite that, I was still craving something - anything - a finger, or his dick, or whatever, just something inside of me!

I wanted to scream when his finger did not part my lips and satisfy my need, when I suddenly realized it was merely moving to a new target. It was now giving the same gentle treatment to my tightly clenched anus. This wasn’t new, but I wasn’t exactly used to it either, so every small brush of his fingers against it sent jolts of sensation through me that I could not fully decide whether to be pleasurable or not. I was paralyzed in position, my breath forming small clouds of condensation next to the cold tiles of the shower, the steam from the hot water filling the room, his finger slowly but relentlessly poking at this unusual, forbidden entrance. Then making its way inside, little by little. I let out a few prolonged moans, concentrating on relaxing my muscles so that his finger could be pushed in deeper. It felt… strange, like it had in the past. With this gesture, I knew that his dominating role had taken over again; I was his once more.

He pulled the finger out, then gave my bottom a couple playful spanks with his hand. They weren’t hard, but they still stung as they landed on the wet, tender skin. He turned me around and pushed me down so I could suck him on my knees. Yes, I was definitively back in my submissive role.

It was just a little bit before he decided to get out of the shower. Back in the room, I wondered what was next.

“Put on the lingerie we brought. I want to take some pictures of you”

This was interesting. I had wanted him to take some sexy pictures of me for a long time - after all, I wanted to know how I looked like. How he saw me. And I wanted to be able to remember.

I put on my lacy bra, a crotchless thong, and my favorite see-through black crop top. And of course, my collar, which I had not worn that day yet.

Taking the pictures was fun but also embarrassing, especially when he instructed me to look directly at the camera. He took pictures of me standing, lying on the bed, bent down at the desk, on my hands and knees. The poses got progressively more submissive, up to the point where my still reddened cheeks and my exposed sex probably took most of the frame. Yet somehow he managed to fit in my face, sometimes turned at uncomfortable angles. Part of me regretted agreeing to this, imagining what would happen if someone found the pictures.

In between poses, he sometimes rekindled the redness of my bottom and thighs through light - and not so light - spankings. He even brought the crop back, giving my flesh new marks on top of the ones from earlier. At times, the crop also made its way to my dripping lips, sometimes caressing, sometimes biting. All for the camera, of course. I could feel my own wetness growing just by imagining how bright my skin must have looked in the pictures.

One by one, each piece of clothing was peeled off so that the pictures got progressively more revealing. When I was fully naked again, except for the collar, my master put down the camera and made himself comfortable on the bed, gesturing for me to get on top of him.

I always feel lost when my master allows me to please him in any way I want, with no instructions; what I can think of is usually never as imaginative as his improvisations. This time, however, I managed to surprise him. I first ran my hands over his body, kissing and licking his chest and then his neck, as I always do. Kissing him passionately as I grinded on his erect member, my juices mixing with pre-cum. But then I swiftly turned myself around and, still on top of him, I swallowed his length as I pushed my wetness on his lips. His tongue quickly started to run over my clit and I struggled to keep sucking him as well, the sensations overwhelming after all that teasing.

After not too long, and by the time I thought my much delayed orgasm was starting to build, his hands pushed my thighs away from his face and I reluctantly moved to his side, not without a small noise of disappointment.

“I think it’s time for your surprise.”

Disappointment quickly turned to eagerness; I had almost forgotten about the new toy! After all this waiting, I’d finally know what my master had gotten for me!

He turned me around so that I was lying flat on my stomach, my face close to the edge of the bed. What could require me to be in that position? He then came towards me with a necktie.

“Sorry, but it will be spoiled if I don’t blindfold you.”

Not sure why he would apologize, I gladly allowed him to wrap the tie around my head, making a knot at the back of my head, covering my eyes. I waited in trepidation - and, honestly, slight apprehension as well - while he rummaged through our bag. I heard the sound of something being unwrapped.

Then I felt my legs being pulled up, bent at the knee. Two smooth rubber cuffs were attached, one to each ankle. Closed by what I assumed to be velcroes, they perfectly wrapped around my ankles, following their shape, firm but not tight enough to block circulation. My arms were then pulled up behind me, and two similar cuffs attached to each wrist. It appeared that the four cuffs were connected to each other, because when my master’s hands released my arms, they stayed upraised, their weight counterbalancing that of my shins. In practice, leaving me hogtied. I couldn’t repress a smile. Hell, I did like this development.

Yet I had not even experienced my master’s full surprise yet. Apparently this hogtie-esque set of restraints was just part one. I heard more unwrapping. Then silence.

All of a sudden, something cold and smooth was caressing my entrance. Before I could realize what it was, it started vibrating, and moans just started pouring out of my mouth outside of my control. The vibrator - what I later realized to be a vibrating dildo, in fact - continued to torture my sensitized clit and labia, the tension building and building with no release. Then it started pushing its way in, still vibrating. I was already so open that it slid all the way inside with almost no friction. I heard myself scream as it was then thrust in and out in quick repetition, its slightly larger head sending waves of pleasure through me from the inside.

But my master still wasn’t done. Changing the vibrating pattern and intensity though a button on the dildo, he found one pattern that started from a low vibration and led to a quick crescendo, peaking in intensity just to suddenly stop, and repeat again. It was torturous, as each peak of vibration promised to send jolts of pleasure through me, just to end abruptly instead. This allowed my master to leave it unattended inside of me. He pushed the dildo all the way in and left it there, its vibrations enough to occupy my energies.

Still blindfolded, I did not realize what he planned until I felt the tip of his penis caress my mouth, parting my lips. He had gotten down from the bed and was standing next to its edge, where he had smartly positioned my face. I accepted his length inside my mouth, though unable to move. He fucked my face instead, holding onto my hair to keep my neck bent backward so that he could pierce me more thoroughly. A mix of tears, saliva and precum was sliding down my face, his thrusts blind to the gagging and choking sounds they drew from me.

He then pushed his dick as deep down my throat as possible, and I could barely breathe when I felt his fingers reach behind me to push the dildo in just a bit more. Then his fingers traced my pierced entrance, covering themselves in my juices, and made their way up to my other hole. I would have gulped when I realized what he had in mind, had my throat not been already filled. Just as he had before, he pushed one, then two fingers inside this third entrance. I winced at the initial pain, but then relaxed and allowed them to be pushed deeper. When he was satisfied, he kept his fingers buried but gave my mouth one moment of respite, pulling out and letting me draw a few sharp breaths after having nearly suffocated. After not more than a few seconds, however, his thrusts resumed. This time, his fingers picked up a rhythm as well, sliding in and out of my asshole.

The physical sensations blended into a single, pulsating wave. This, to be fucked senseless at all three entrances, had always been one of my fantasies, one that I had confided to my master a long time ago. Never would I have imagined that this was his surprise, along with the new dildo and restraints. Utterly lost in a world where I was nothing more than a set of holes to be filled, my mind gave up keeping track of the rhythms and their sources. It forgot all sense of time and space. It forgot what was pain and what was pleasure. Only when warm liquid rushed down my throat and my master’s fingers stopped their dance inside of me, his other hand holding the back of my head tightly pressed against his groin, did I snap out of my trance.

After he had finished panting, he slid out of both my entrances. The dildo was still vibrating inside of me, but in comparison with what I had just experienced its effects now seemed faint and distant.

I heard a few clicks of the camera and blushed at the idea of having my picture taken in that tied-up position, after having had all three holes devastated. Yet there was nothing I could do about it.

I suddenly realized how weakened my muscles were from the strain when my master unshackled my wrists and ankles, allowing my limbs to rest. Without removing the blindfold, he turned my body around so that I was laying on my back, my head resting on the pillows. He embraced me on the bed, one hand holding my body tight against his, warm skin against skin. His other hand grabbed the dildo from inside of me and started massaging my clit with it, its vibrating head reawakening my still unsatisfied libido. He kept at this for a while, until I started panting and wrestling, my legs closing around the dildo, wanting more. The build-up kept growing until I felt I could explode any moment; but what led me over the edge was the sudden memory of what I had just been through, of my finally realized fantasy. I quivered and shuddered as ripples of pleasure spread from my clit to the tips of my fingers, not even noticing my own moans anymore. The sensations slowly turning into satisfied contentment, I barely noticed the dildo being turned off and laid to the side. Deepening our embrace, I let my mind slip into unconsciousness, melting into the smell and warmth of my master’s skin.

Only a few hours later did we wake up, in the middle of the night, just to realize that we had fallen asleep without even having had dinner. Luckily for us, there was a 24-hour diner close by. As I hungrily threw myself over delicious pancakes at 2 in the morning, I suddenly felt profoundly happy. The day may not have turned out as perfectly as my master had planned, but it had been one of the best of my life nonetheless.