I felt strange and nervous, kneeling here before her. I had disobeyed her and I knew it. I knew it when I did it, and yet…well, I wasn’t really sure why I did it. I felt an odd feeling deep inside. Deep inside my chest. There was a familiar quiver inside my loins. My throat was tight and my mouth was dry. Very dry. I found it hard to speak.
She waited there, watching me, waiting for me to speak.
I was frowning and stammering. I hated myself for being this way. I was in constant conflict inside myself. I wanted to feel this! This ache, this pain, longing and feeling of helplessness. Yet a part of me fought it. A part of me wanted to fight it. Fight her.
I didn’t yet know what my feelings toward punishment and submission were. I knew I had pushed her. I pushed her hard. I pushed her often. This time I had kept it up until she got very angry. Previously, when she had struck out at me and pushed back, I felt better and yet, it was dissatisfying. It was all so confusing. I couldn’t keep it straight inside my own mind.
This time, though, was different. And this had been her idea. She insisted I kneel before her, naked with my head down, to tell her how and why I disobeyed her. I always push her. Is that the same as disobeying her? Hell, I didn’t know. I knew she could tell me. She would tell me what to do and I should do whatever she said. Why did I push? Did I disobey? Really? I was getting frustrated and felt grouchy inside. Why doesn’t she just humiliate me, interrogate me or send me to do something and it would all be over. That would have been simple.
She was saying something, I had better listen.
“You seem to want something and yet, you don’t.”
I was silent.
“You did disobey me? Didn’t you? Willfully and knowingly?”
I finally found my voice. “Yes”, I said, low and quiet, my throat completely dry.
“I don’t know. I think I thought it would be okay…. this time.”
“You thought it would be okay this time?”
“Yes, I thought you would think it was okay, this time… cause … well, I thought…”
“You THOUGHT it would be okay to disobey me?”
“Yessss…” I said, hesitantly. I was beginning to squirm nervously.
“Well, what do you think I should do about it?”
I had never been asked this or even considered it before. “I….. uh… well, I… ah…. think you should just… just let it go… just say, ‘Don’t do it again’, and just that…. uh… that would be it… you know I love you, right? You know me and you know how I am. Just let it go” I felt relieved inside. She was going to let me go. Again. Just let it pass and we could go back to the normal day….
She sat in silence. I wanted to run. I wanted to stay. I wanted to eat my words and I wanted to laugh. Shit, say something. Say anything!
“Okay, then, go on.” She waved her hand, “get up and go on… it is over.” She wasn’t looking at me at all. She was looking right through me. “Yes, I know how you are. Yes, I know you love me. Yes, you wanted to disobey me and that is what you did. You did it and it’s over. Now go.” As I watched her, I saw how serious she was. She wouldn’t catch my gaze but rather looked away and started reading her book again.
I felt relieved and let out a breath. I got up and dressed. Busy day. But as I started, I felt lost, somehow. I felt abandoned and ignored, although she talked and we carried on normally. The hours turned into days. The days into nights. Days rolled on and I felt terrible. I was feeling more and more restless and nervous… grouchy, moody and dark, even. I grumbled and complained. I couldn’t even understand why I felt this way… only that I did. I was distracted during the day. I ate and drank but couldn’t find the right food or drink to quench the hunger. I was silent. Long periods of silence. And I wept at night, into my pillow as she seemingly slept soundly. I caught her eyes in the daylight and looked for the…… what? The strength I needed?
She sat, one evening, reading and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I stomped around the house. Opening and closing cupboards and drawers to draw her attention to me. It didn’t work. I went to the bathroom and cried. I was tense and frustrated and didn’t know why. I needed her. I needed her to help me but how, I didn’t know. I masturbated and tried to climax but I couldn’t even do that. I wanted something… something I desperately wanted… needed… Damn…. I wanted to scream, the tension was so tight.
That night, I undressed and walked into the room where she was. I knelt before her as before only this time, desperately seeking solace and refuge from my frustration. She was my Domme, I knew it, I knew it. I was her sub, this I knew too. I wanted it. I wanted it this way. I needed it. I didn’t want to fight it anymore and I certainly was in no mood to push anything. I approached her. My head was down and I knelt in silence. She chose to ignore me and continued to read.
I don’t know how many minutes went by, seemed like hours, and finally, I said, softly, “Please, Mistress, Please help me?”
Tears welled behind my eyes and I held them back. With all the humility and respect I could muster, “Please, Mistress, my Mistress, Please…..?”
She didn’t even look at me, but instead, simply asked, “What do you want?”
Shit, I was afraid she would do this. I didn’t know how to ask for what I didn’t know. “I don’t know, Mistress. I just want you to do to me, what should have done….” I sounded so lame… so silly.
“I can’t help you if you don’t know what you want. Tell me or be gone with you.”
Then the tears came. I cried. I put my head on her lap and sobbed. I desperately did not want to be sent away again, I couldn’t bear it. “Please, Mistress, anything you want.”
“No, it has to be what you want. You have to know and you have to tell me.”
My head hurt. My heart ached. I felt a twinge in my groin… I was getting aroused and didn’t understand why…..
I had to answer, yet, the answer was painful. “I…. uh… I… want you to …. punish me…” I said in a whisper.
“You WANT me to what? I couldn’t hear you.”
I cleared my throat and tried again. I was hot, trembling and feeling very uneasy. “I want you to punish me, ” I said a little louder.
“You want me to punish you how?”
Shit. She did it again. Why did she do this? She practically sets me up! Damn, but this was hard. My lips were dry and my body ached from sitting this position for what seemed like hours now. “I ….. want… to… uh….. I want to be punished the way I should have been punished” There. How’s that? Better? The words coming out of my mouth weren’t all that difficult.
“How do you want to be punished?”
Oh, damn… I didn’t know…. “Anything my Mistress wants”… I copped out. She’d hate it and I knew it. I held my breath.
“Oh no. No, no, not this time. No more parent punishing child. You must know what you want, and it must be given because you want it, know you deserve it and that it is right. You must tell me what you want. What do you think you deserve for disobeying me?”
I still found it hard to speak. I had never felt so forced. So forced to just say something that was so hard to say. I hurt in my stomach. It was an ache and it made me try to close my legs and clench my ass, tight! Tight against the feelings. The anticipation, the arousal, the wait. I had tried to tell her but apparently it wasn’t good enough. I closed my eyes and mustered up some strength, “I think I deserve a …. s… sp….spanking, Mistress.” I was so nervous. So damn nervous. Yet I was excited. It was then that I knew I wanted more of this, to feel more of this.
“A spanking, hmm? Is that all you think you deserve?”
I could tell she was growing impatient. “Yes, a spanking….. uh….” I said hesitantly. “That would be a fair punishment.”
“No, I don’t think it would be enough for disobeying me. You push so hard and so willfully, too.”
I was confused. What did she want me to say? “Please, Mistress, punish me in the way you see fit, please, Mistress, please?”
She didn’t respond.
I could barely stand it. I tried to tolerate the silence. I wasn’t going to push this time.
Finally, she spoke. “I think you deserve a hard spanking and then some. What do you think?”
Oh, God, I was shaking visibly now. The thought of what she was about to do filled me with fear and dread, but with a need and a passion at the same time. She could bring me up to such heights. The thought of her not letting me release was dreadful. I couldn’t bear to be sent away and yet I was terrified I had brought this to her attention all in the same thought. I was second-thinking my decision giving thought to her intention but it confused me and made me tremble even more. ” I……. I…. think that w…. would be fair, Mistress. Please do it.” I was so confused, I wanted this feeling to end so bad… it had to end, this feeling, of want and need.
“Go and get the large rubber paddle” My mouth dropped open. I’d seen it once, even held it but never, ever, had she ever hinted at using it on me. Shit.
“Do it NOW,” she said.
There was no further sound. I looked up and saw she had gone back to reading. Damn! Okay, was I a fool to disobey or was I just a fool to give in to this need? I was sorry. I had learned. And I wanted to tell her this, but I knew she would not really hear it. Not now. It was too late. It would seem like an empty confession, as I had said I was sorry before, only to do it again.
I got up and rummaged through the toy box where we had the assemblies of toys and other sexual stimulants. And there it was; bigger than I had remembered, and heavier in my hands, too. I noticed, for the first time, how the rubber seemed cool to the touch. I tried it out on my hand. Its weight and smoothness felt good and easy to wield in the air. I felt nausea building up in the pit of my stomach as I returned to her.
Why, oh why did I have to be so stubborn? Why did I have to push her? I think I always wanted her to be tougher with me, but it is hard because we do love each other. I wished I could be good, all the time, but I think I only was disobedient to get her to correct and punish me, pay me some attention and show me the strength I knew she carried inside. When she did show me, it was never really hurtful, and as a matter of fact, it excited me. That must be why I kept doing it and pushing her. Doing what I could do to get her to excite me and show me the strength and willfulness she carried inside of herself.
Well, this was NOT exciting me. This was scaring me. This was going to hurt. I don’t want it to happen. I don’t EVER want to get to this shaking point again. Maybe if I tell her I understand, now, and that I will not do anything like that again, maybe she will let it go. YES. We could talk it out. We can resolve this another way. That’s it. I’ll simply tell her that the threat was enough. I don’t need it to hurt for this to be straightened out.
I walked quickly to where she sat. I had the paddle in my hand and I opened my mouth to tell her what I had concluded. But I knew, deep inside, it was no good. My heart was heavy as I knelt before her and held out the paddle. I started shaking when she took it from me. I couldn’t help it.
She spoke in a careful, calm and soft voice. She told me where she wanted me and how she wanted me to lie across her lap. She saw how frightened I was. How I was shaking. She soothed me and told me to trust her, as I had always done. She knew I was frightened and that this would hurt, as it should, but she knew it was what I needed. I told her I trusted her. She asked me if I was doing this by my own choice and not being forced, and I told her yes, that I wanted her to do it.
She swung the paddle and it struck home. It was a dull thud on my backside and the pain was not too bad. I relaxed knowing she would build up slowly. She continued increasing the striking until it hurt very bad. I was crying and visibly shaking. I wanted to scream but held back my words and bit down on my lip. I wanted to cry out…”Stop! Please Stop!” but I didn’t. I took her hits and knew why they hurt.
Finally, she was finished. I was, indeed, sore and hurting and would not be able to sit for awhile without feeling this. She had me kneel before her again, and through my sobs, I told her I was sorry, so sorry, for real, this time.
She soothed me, softly stroking my hair, she said, “Yes, I know.” Her voice cracked. I thought I saw tears behind her eyes but she would not dare let me see that, not now. It made me shudder and wince. I knew this night was not over and I began to sob. I apologized and begged her to forgive me. The punishment was over and she need not do more. In fact, there would never be a need again. But I knew she wasn’t finished even if it was hurting her, too.
She told me to get the restraints, place them on the bed posts, lie down naked on the bed and wait.
I got up slowly, painfully and walked away. I looked back as she sat in silence. It was going to be a long night, I thought, as I sniffed and assembled the restraints on the bed, as she had instructed. I did as I was told and waited. And waited. It seemed forever before she entered the room. I knew waiting, though, was part of her plan and part of my pain. She fastened the restraints on my ankles and wrists. I was looking forward to her touch, but was fearful.
She began slowly, with soft touches and fondling. I knew what she wanted. She wanted to take me to the edge, for me to be hot and frustrated. I was determined to act the part but not to let go. Not to allow myself to be too excited. I felt I could do this. I would do this. Before I could see it coming, she had a blindfold in place… something I hadn’t expected. I was breathing hard, now, scared and tense. I mouthed, please, no… please?? I felt cold on my nipples and as I flinched and twisted she applied the clamps. Ohhh, but they hurt.
Silence. Once again, I waited.
I smelled the hot wax before I felt it and it made me shiver. The anticipation was thrilling and foreboding, too.
Ohhhhh! The first drop on my stomach stung with its singular central pain. It was completely unexpected and made me gasp. It was followed with many, many more; circles on my belly and groin, around my nipples and over my chest. I gritted my teeth, hard and held my breath. I could feel the sweat dripping down my face and rolling off my body.
I groaned and felt myself getting more and more aroused, even against my strongest resistance. I knew it was no good. It was no good to resist and to fight, I was falling. Falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of pleasure and pain, of anticipation and want; I became more excited. I felt her pull on my cock, then again, hard!! It proved to bring me back to focus on the reason I was here.
She growled, low, “my sweet one, how you endure and suffer – but enjoy this so…” I hadn’t realized how close I was to orgasm until I heard her whispers. Close – hell, I was dripping.
This scared me. I had never had much practice at holding my orgasm. There was never a need to hold back. This was going to be hard to do. I opened my mouth to speak, and felt a softness enter and stuff itself into my mouth. Oh, my God, she has gagged me… she had never done that. Why? Oh no. Please, no. I thrust about, squirming, and trying to protest, but she paid no attention. She started playing and teasing my cock. I could feel the sticky wetness from her on my thighs. She was aroused, too. She played with me, took the wetness from me (and maybe her?) and lubricated me. I felt as wet as she must have been.
She took her finger and entered me, so slowly, so tenderly, it made me twitch and squirm. I bit into the gag and muffled my moans of building tension and passion. Then I felt a new object. It was smooth and cool. A welcome feeling to my hot, sweating body. I felt it go around my waist and it secured me tightly against the bed. This was new to me, too. But now I was completely immobile! Damn, this was frustrating!
She fingered me so softly, moving her finger in and out slowly and carefully. It had the effect of building my frustration greatly. To my surprise, she pulled off the nipple clamps swiftly and pain shot through me and went straight between my legs where the throbbing only increased. Tiny kisses covered my nipples as she licked and soothed them. At the same time, she had put another finger inside of me; in and out she went again, building; so slowly, so carefully, hinting around that pleasure button that drove me mad. I strained and moved as best I could but it did no good. I gritted my teeth against my own feelings and clenched my fists. Involuntarily, I tried to close my legs… I ached to be loose and free to touch her and taste her, to please her, but I was completely immobile and exposed, open to her tender teasing touch.
She went on and on like this for a long time, and I grew hotter and more excited until sweat was running down my face and chest, like rain drops off a smooth roof. I twisted and turned and tried to get loose as best I could, but I was fastened tightly against the bed with restraints and straps. I was moaning quite a bit now and my muffled sobs turned to screams as I felt a vibrator hum against my balls. She held it there against the sensitive, tightness of them as I squirmed and moaned. I found myself swearing to her, “Please, please, stop! Please, I will never disobey you again… Please! Damn You, Please!” from inside the gag, where she could not and would not hear.
The pain was a dull ache deep inside of me, up inside of me, all the way up to my teeth… It hurt and ached. I squirmed and shook, pleaded and cried. I was so hot and frustrated. I clenched and unclenched my fists, pulled at the straps and bindings.
I heard her chuckle and felt her fingers stroke my cheek … “Now, now, my boy is frustrated. Awww… poor baby. Maybe you will think twice about disobeying me again, hmmmm? Maybe you’ll know better to be specific about what you ask for. Maybe next time you will not push me quite so hard. Maybe… maybe…” Her tongue traced over my body and she licked her way to the tip of my cock. I nodded quickly. My mind was racing. ‘maybe? maybe, hell.. yes.. no, yes… yes… don’t stop’ Through waves of pain and pleasure I was losing myself.
She chuckled. I could hear it in her laugh. There it was. This was the strength I had longed to see and had taken quite the path to get to. This was the heightened state that I loved to watch her in and I was aroused even more by knowing she took pleasure in my tortured and frustrated state.
She took away the vibrator and pulled her fingers out from me carefully but swiftly. I was so turned on and it was hard to contain a release. I shut my eyes tight behind the blindfold and held on. When she undid my restraints, I rolled up into the fetal position and hugged myself tightly. My muscles ached. I was hot and cold at the same time. I did not want to move, only suffer this, quietly, for awhile… and anticipate what she might do next.
She left the blindfold intact.
I felt her beside me, then, as she quietly covered me and wrapped herself around me. She began with gentle caresses and touching my hair, my back, my shoulders and applied a soft soothing cream to my scarred and wounded ass. Her breasts were against my back and her breath warmed my skin. She whispered in my ear … “Now sleep for me, my love.”
My trigger had been spoken and although I responded instantly from that point – the rest of the night is a dream, a mirage of pleasure and sensation as she entered my mind as she had entered my body. She explored and pushed, exposed me further and guided me deeper into the realm of her control. Finally she allowed me to release, there in that deep place, with her guidance and instruction, she took me to the edge, left me hanging and caught me as I spiraled into bliss.
What I remember most about that night was the physical acts of pain and pleasure leading up to her hypnotizing me. But it was the trance and having her inside of my mind that will stay with me much, much longer than any memory my physical body will carry.