She knew she was in trouble. The entire time she packed her bag, got in the car, and drove the hours to where he was, she knew. He hadn’t left her when they had the disagreement, if anything he had growled and pulled her tighter, verbally forcing her to bend to his will, which was what her submissive self wanted and what her assertive self still rebelled against here and there. She never knew what her punishment would be, and lately her infractions had been anything but minor. He was disappointed in her, she just knew it. He said he wasn’t, as long as she had learned something, but it always seemed like she was learning something he already knew, and that made her disappointed in herself, which in many ways was worse. When he was disappointed in her, there was a routine…disappointment, punishment, absolution. When she was disappointed in herself, it was a struggle to again find that inner drive to please him that she desperately wanted to perfect. So with all that running through her head she drove, watching the clock to make sure she was on time…for whatever she was heading into.
When she arrived, she only had a few minutes to spare. Traffic had been bad, which only added to her worry. She hurried into the hotel, picked up the key he had left for her at the desk, and entered the room, dropping her bag by the door. She immediately began to strip, even as she was digging her precious collar out of her bag. There was a specific way she was to greet him and he would be here soon. Her auburn curls cascaded down her back as she tossed her clothes on top of her bag, and sank to her knees facing the hotel room door. She had perfected the position he required, and set about duplicating it as she had done many times before. She was on her knees, thighs spread apart, with her ass resting on her heels. She held her collar in both hands in front of her, nervously twiddling with it as she always did. Thank goodness he preferred that her green eyes be downcast when he came in, because she found it very hard to look him in the eye when she was in trouble. It was challenge enough to keep her head up like he ordered. She tried her best to calm herself, breathing in the silent stillness of the room. She heard his key in the door, and glanced up briefly, lowering her eyes again as she heard instead of saw the door open. The door swung shut again, and she immediately felt his presence in the room. He came close to her, using a hand to push her hair off her left shoulder, kissed her cheek, then continued past her. She didn’t know what he was doing behind her, which always made her nervous, but she heard him put his things down on the counter. She then felt him hunker down behind her, as he reached around and took the delicate collar from her hands.
“Hold up your hair,” he whispered in her ear, and she complied, gathering the curls up in one hand to hold them on top of her head. He fastened the collar around her neck, as he always did, and she let her hair fall back into place.
“Who do you belong to?” he questioned her.
“You Sir,” she responded with no hesitation, somewhat comforted by the routine of it all.
He stood back up and left her there then. She didn’t know what he was doing, and she tried to ignore any sounds she heard, as she maintained her position. She felt rather than saw him approach her again from behind, and she shivered as he came around in front of her, his fingers finding her nipples and caressing them, first gently then rougher. She sighed despite herself. His hand went under her chin and forced her to look up into his smoldering blue eyes, and when she did that unmistakable look of dominance washed over her and as always, she was completely his. She still knew she was in trouble and she knew her best course of action was to be his very compliant lil good girl, so she stayed very still and looked back at him. Just that eye contact forced her to hold back tears, and he knew it. He used a hand to reach into his pocket and pulled out a set of medium size blunt tip nipple clamps joined by a linked chain. Her eyes widened despite herself, she had very sensitive nipples, and they both know she abhorred those clamps.
“Stay very still my lil slut,” he whispered almost kindly but not quite, as he attached first one and then the other clamp to her sensitive pink nubs.
She bit her lip and felt tears well up in her eyes despite her best efforts. He never looked at what he was doing, just continued to stare at her as he tortured her nipples, tightening the clamps and tugging on the chain to check they wouldn’t slide. Once they were secure to his liking, he stood up, trailing his fingers under her chin to force her to look up at him.
“You know you have been disobedient as of late don’t you princess?” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” she replied dejectedly, trusting herself with only those two words.
He pointed to a far corner of the room and ordered her in no uncertain terms, “crawl to that corner, resume this kneel position facing the wall, and do not move until I tell you to.”
She felt frozen to the spot at first, working her mind around what he had just said. The corner? Really? That was new. Punishment from him, though varied in form, almost always involved him using her to his liking with little regard for her pleasure. He tapped his finger under her chin not gently, and she snapped back to attention, realizing that by being lost in thought she wasn’t complying. That was a bad idea right now. Her behavior lately had been very disrespectful, and she needed the absolution only he could give her. She immediately leaned forward onto all fours, all to aware of both the chain tugging painfully on the nipple clamps and her ass facing him. She began to crawl, only to make it about halfway before he issued yet another command.
“Stop slut,” he commanded and she froze, the chain swinging miserably between her breasts as she involuntarily clenched her ass. “Punishment position,” he continued, and if there had been any doubt, she now knew he was definitely not playing.
She immediately resumed kneeling, this time with her thighs together and tucked up under her, and placed her hands together in front of her on the carpet, leaning all the way forward to place her forehead on her hands. She hated this position, her ass so high in the air and well, available. And the nipple clamps, which were making her nipples burn more and more by the minute, were an added misery. She clenched her eyes shut as she heard the unmistakable clink and swoosh of him removing his belt from his pants. It was only a moment before she felt the leather belt sliding softly across her ass. Her muscles tensed, and she turned her face to see only his black loafers off to the side of her. All in one motion the belt was lifted, folded, and made contact with her left ass cheek. She jumped and cried out despite herself, only to hear him give further instruction.
“Count slut,” was all he said.
“One Sir,” she stammered out, only to be “rewarded” with another connection of belt and skin.
“Two Sir,” she said, “three, four, shit five Sir,” she continued, forcing the words out after each connection, even as the tears fell on her hands.
And so it continued, the only sounds in the room the smack of the belt meeting her ass and the strained counting she was forcing out.
“Ten Sir,” she finally blurted out, and he stopped.
He left her uncertainly in the punishment position, no doubt studying the red coloring of her ass as he almost nonchalantly rethreaded his belt through the loops on his pants.
“NOW, to the corner,” he instructed, and she scurried back up on all fours and across the room, somehow oddly thankful for whatever small reprieve the corner offered. She reached the corner quickly and resumed position, instinctively lowering her eyes submissively. He did not speak again, and time passed slowly. She didn’t know how long she sat there, in her “time out”, but the longer she sat the more fretful she became. She felt very worried that he intended for her to spend the evening there, alone, naked, somewhat cold, with her legs beginning to ache from their cramped position. How close was he to her, or how far away? What was he doing? She had no idea, and she didn’t dare look. She didn’t hear a sound, maybe he had left or fallen asleep? That thought scared her, and she finally stopped even trying to fight the tears, letting them fall silently onto her spread thighs and the carpet. As she reflected on her behavior the last few weeks, she knew she had been very disrespectful, and disappointed him and herself. She had excuses, but excuses weren’t reasons, and he never accepted excuses. So there she kneeled facing the wall, her ass and nipples burning, crying silently except for the occasional sniffle, waiting for….what? She didn’t even know. Punishment was awful, but necessary she knew, and in the long run it always made her feel better, and like his good girl once again. She desperately wanted to be his good girl.
He, on the other hand, had not left her, but had retreated to the couch a few feet behind her, quietly studying his property. He wanted her, he always wanted her, but punishment was only effective if it was somewhat unpleasant for him as well. Not as unpleasant as it was for her of course, but it often still required some self control on his part. Punishment was crucial to their power exchange. He knew it and she did too. She wanted nothing more than to please him, and it was his responsibility to teach her exactly how to do that. When she deviated from the desired behaviors, correction was necessary to maintaining the dynamic. He was a sadist, but she was a masochist, so pain in itself in the form of nipple clamps, spankings, floggings, and the like were not necessarily punishments in themselves (although the nipple clamps were miserable for her), and he had learned quickly that humiliating and/or objectifying her were much more effective punishment tools. Being in the corner alone was humiliating to her, but spanking her with the belt first, leaving her ass red, burning, and completely exposed, was just icing on the cake. She was maintaining her position admirably, and the sadist in him enjoyed the red ass cheeks he had given her. Watching her, and probably unbeknownst to her, he was also in awe of how beautiful she was. The physicality of her took his breath away even from behind, her curls cascading down her back, the curve of her lower back as the creamy whiteness of her skin melted into her reddened ass, even the cuteness of her painted toenails as they peeked out from under her ass cheeks. Every time he studied her like this, fond memories of how they had gotten to this point flooded him. But of course that was the outside of her. As he watched her, he knew her inside was beautiful to him as well. This punishment was a perfect illustration of her utter subservience to him, her respect for his role in her life, and her utter devotion to pleasing him. They had come far in their journey together over the years to reach this place. This was the first time he had used corner time as punishment, so it was new to both of them. He knew she was not comfortable there naked in the corner, and he knew she continued to cry, but he also had no doubt she would remain just that way as long as he required. Her submissiveness was evolving every day, and he needed to tell her how proud he was of her, but not now.
After what seemed like forever, he rose and crossed the room to her, forcing himself to take quiet measured steps. By that point she had sunk so far into herself, which incidentally was the point of the punishment, that she didn’t hear him approach. His hand startled her as he wrapped it up in her hair, pulling her head back as far as he could so she was forced to look up at him. Their eyes met once again, and he studied her tear streaked face and her eyes. He didn’t know what he expected to read in her expression and while watching her had already pondered some possibilities - rejection, fear, anger? But nevertheless, when he gazed down at her, all he saw in her beautiful eyes was regret, and apology, and love. She didn’t look broken, quite the contrary, she somehow looked healed, more at peace with herself, more centered, and totally his. This pleased him greatly. He held her gaze for a good while, but held back his smile. He took her by the hand and supported her as she stood, knowing that maintaining the kneel position became increasingly difficult instead of easier for her.
“Present,” he ordered, letting go of her hand, turning his back to her, and returning to the couch to sit and watch her.
She turned to face him, spread her legs knee width apart and raised both hands to the back of her neck, her elbows out. She raised her head but kept her eyes down and stood very still. He resumed studying her in this new position. Her face was flushed and tear streaked, but she was no longer crying he noted with pleasure. Her chest heaved with each breath, and the chain between the nipples clamps swayed slightly with each intake. Her nipples were no longer pink, but whitened at their tips from the pinching. Her knees were slightly reddened and imprinted from the carpet, which in some odd way also pleased him. He purposely took his time studying her, spending several minutes waiting for her to squirm uncomfortably. To her credit and his admiration, she remained mostly still, patiently awaiting his next command.
“Crawl to me, slut,” he ordered quietly, and she fell to her knees once again without hesitation, and crawled across the room to his feet.
Upon reaching him, she assumed her usual kneeling position in between his spread legs, head up and eyes down, with her hands resting on her thighs. She didn’t dare look at him, she was too embarrassed to initiate the eye contact anyway. He placed a finger under her chin and raised her head to look at him. When her eyes met his, she relaxed slightly.
“Tell me why you were punished, little one,” he requested.
“Yes Sir. I was disrespectful to you and to our relationship and spoke to you in a way that was hurtful,” she replied, stopping there and not apologizing. She knew by now that a verbal apology was not what he wanted.
“That’s right little one, and that will stop from this point forward correct?” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” she answered hurriedly, and then he smiled.
He leaned forward, removing both nipple clamps at the same time, causing her to take several sharp intakes of breath. Her hands fluttered off of her thighs with the intent of going to her breasts, but she fought the reaction and placed them back in position, and he again quietly admired her control. He massaged both breasts and the sensitive nipples softly, leaning forward and kissing each one gently in turn. He stood then, pulling her by her hand to stand with him.
“Go get dressed, girl, and we will continue with our evening,” he said, smiling at her broadly now.
Not needing to be told twice, she scurried to the other side of the room, grabbing her clothing as she passed it and heading into the bathroom. She glanced in the mirror over the sink and was entirely unpleased with her ravaged appearance, but she smiled anyway, knowing she had taken her punishment with grace, and she was now his good girl again. She set about correcting the disheveled look, eager to be on his arm for the rest of the evening.
In the other room he gathered up his wallet, keys, and cell phone and placed them back in his pockets. He adjusted his cock inside his pants, willing it to go back down from its semi hardened state. As much as he wanted to drag her out of the bathroom and ravage her, he knew punishment had to be kept separate from pleasure to be effective. They had time, plenty of it this visit, and with punishment complete, the pleasures that awaited them both were many. He leaned on the counter smiling, waiting patiently for the girl that was always his.
~ takenlilslut January 2013