Obedience

I am sitting in my chair, rather late at night. It has been an interesting day, made so by your rather unexpected and kinky intervention.

So… it started when we flirted on IM. It was a little unexpected, I was sitting doing some work and you pop on. And yeah… you began to flirt, and suggest, and then describe… rather explicitly… and it got me rather hot. Not unusual for us I know, but still, it hasn’t happened at work in a long time.

It was enjoyable, though I began worrying about the work network – too much explicit talk could result in someone tracking me down. I tried to calm you down a bit by joking, and telling you that I shouldn’t be getting horny at work.

Your response, when you took control… it just flipped me over. I let it happen; I could have resisted, but at that moment I realized I wanted you to dominate me. I wanted this thing that hadn’t happened in so long. I remember the wet feeling between my legs moments later, knowing my body was self lubricating for you, involuntarily, and it was because you were not giving me a choice. I had no choice, you were simply telling me what I was going to do, and that included having an orgasm. Right then, at work. My body was responding in obedience.

It felt amazing, walking down the hall, knowing I was going to slip into a stall and masturbate, and climax; because you had decided it.

The restroom was empty when I first entered and selected a stall as far from the door as I could. I slipped my slacks down, and then panties. It was so strange, feeling the cool air on my bare flesh. I felt naked and exposed just then. Normally when I go to the restroom it is just business. There is no sense of exposure, no arousal, no sense of nakedness. This time, I felt vulnerable, and a little nervous because I knew I had to masturbate, and I had to orgasm. There was no choice.

I reached down, and slipped my left hand between my legs. It immediately felt that my soft flesh was slippery wet. I was embarrassed knowing how aroused I was, just in the short time we had been flirting. My fingers spread my lips slightly, sliding down, initially avoiding my clit. It felt good, and after rubbing some more and warming up, I allowed myself to slide two fingers on each side of my clit. I began to feel the peculiar pleasure of my body.

Several people came in and out of the restroom, and each time I stopped moving for fear that they would see what I was doing through the cracks at the joints of the stall walls. Even with these interruptions, I could feel the warmth building quickly, the glow which swelled and spread through my body. My hand was stroking harder and faster; I worried I would make noise and slowed slightly. I never know if the sound of rubbing makes a noise, especially when I am wet, so I was careful.

Just as I felt the climax coming on, I slipped two fingers inside. They went in easily, sliding over my clit as they went in. The flood of pleasure was amazing; it came quickly, and it was so much more intense because it was obedience. Obedience to your directive. That I would have an orgasm, then, immediately, at work. I felt like such a slut, and loved it so much I could taste it.

Afterward I wiped a little to dry off, and of course smelled my fingers. I do that whenever I masturbate for you, imagining what you would smell. There was nothing I could do about my panties, still moist from earlier. I walked back to my cube and reported back to you. It felt good to be able to tell you that I had succeeded in obeying you in this slightly slutty adventure. It felt good that you were getting off on my obedience and submission to you. My act of obedience was turning me on like I hadn’t been turned on in a long, long time. I had forgotten the thrill.

Then you suggested something more… something… well, a total surprise. I wasn’t surprised by your telling me to masturbate. But this…

I deserved to be spanked. You made it clear, and instructed me to arrange it. You were not present, and so he was to do it, as your surrogate. I was to request, manipulate, beg if I had to. He would spank me.

I knew I could do it. I knew the buttons to push. It had been some time since I had had a thorough spanking, and the thought of it made me flush with excitement. I suddenly wanted the spanking. The pain… I knew I could take the pain though really good spankings can be a lot worse than you might imagine. It made me nervous, to think I was going to go home and arrange for a spanking, at your demand.

Nervous, yes, but also aroused. I would forget throughout the day, and then it would come rushing back. I could feel my breath quicken, my pulse surge, and I could almost taste the stinging pain on my ass that was to come. If I thought about it too long, I would shift in my chair as if the pain was already there. Wriggling.

Anticipation? Yes, I am sure. Fear? Some, though not a lot. Something like going in to get a medical test done, and not knowing just how uncomfortable it might be. Arousal? Definitely. So much so I wanted to seek out the restroom once again. I knew it would only take moments.

No, I couldn’t. I stopped myself, more than once, from fulfilling my desires. I wanted myself in a state of heightened awareness, of extreme arousal. Experience had taught me I could take a lot more if I was aroused. It would be more exciting and pleasurable. So… I let it simmer.

Thinking about you. Thinking about your instructions. I was to be punished. You were not here, so I was to arrange for him to do it, but consider that it was you. Think about you. Feel your hand on my ass. Imagine you there, taking me.

I picked a fight with him when I got home. Not a big one, just a little huffing. But it established a tone of dissatisfaction, which I think reinforced some level of poutiness he had left over from our fight Saturday. He wanted me to fix dinner, I huffed and asked why didn’t he do it, and he complained we had nothing in the house… and so on. I fixed dinner.

After cleaning up from dinner, I put on a particularly sexy outfit. A silky teddy I know he likes, it shows off my curves, whatever curves I have. But it makes me very feminine. My hair had been brushed and was looking good. I was clean, attractive, sexy, and ready to make my play…

I was up front. I simply suggested to him that he might feel better if he gave me a spanking. I told him I knew I had frustrated him and it might be an appropriate punishment; get it out of his system and move past our recent disagreements.

The transformation in him was immediate, and amazing. He knew the scene, it was very sexual, and I was sexy as hell at that moment. I could almost see his cock going erect in his pants. I also have to admit I was getting wet, and almost shaking with the nervousness and anticipation. He had to come through for me, just then. I didn’t want to fail, and yet not failing meant submitting to an ass beating driven by an angry and horny hubby.

He hadn’t said anything yet, so I simply got off the couch, and kneeled in front of him, my head bowed down so that my hair fell over my face. My hands lay on my knees, which were slightly spread. I stayed there, breathing, waiting, trying to hide my shakes and my desire.

His hand took mine, and raised me up. When I was standing, looking in to his eyes, I could tell what he saw there – the fear and excitement that I was feeling. Oh god, I wanted him to start, and I wanted it to be over. The deed was done, the process set in motion, the situation created and the first domino knocked down to the next…

I remember biting my lip as his hand reached up and slipped off my right shoulder strap. The left one fell easily as well, and with almost no effort my teddy was around my waist. I was standing naked from the waist up as he gazed in my eyes and kissed me lightly on my cheek.

To tell you the truth, I was scared to death he was going to just have sex with me at that point… not that I didn’t want to fuck him, but I desparately needed to obey, and receive my spanking. I could not face writing you and telling you that I had not been able to do as you desired…

He slipped my teddy down past my waist, and over my hips. I spread my legs just slightly so it fell to the floor unencumbered. I was naked before him now, and felt more vulnerable and exposed than I had in ages. It was so hot I thought I would orgasm right then (not really, but it was still really hot).

Sitting on the couch, he took my hand and pulled me down to him, guiding my so that my naked body lay over his lap. I assumed the position. Arms over my head, all the way so that they would not interfere. My ass was slightly elevated because it was positioned right over his legs. The sensation of my bare ass sticking up was unbelievable. I could feel its nakedness, waiting there. Any moment the first sting would take this feeling away, and the pain would begin. My body tensed, waiting.

He caressed my ass first. Damn him… he slid one hand over, and then pushed in to my crack to feel my hole… it felt so violating. So incredibly… I don’t know how to describe it but he was probing me as I lay there waiting. His other hand went between my legs and found the wetness of my pussy.

At that moment I remembered you so clearly, and felt your hands penetrating my ass and my pussy. I shuddered a little, and shifted, raising my ass and spreading my legs. Not because it felt good (because it did) but in obedience to you. You were there, in my mind, feeling every bit of my wet juices.

And then it came. Almost without warning, the first stinging slap. It was surprising, and I gasped, or squeeked a little. The first one is always worst in a way because it isn’t expected. It is just the beginning, where it starts hurting. The continuing strikes make it hurt more and more, and eventually it becomes torture… but the first one is the trigger that starts the pain ride…

He continued slapping my ass, hard. Really hard. I could tell he was taking out some of his frustrations on my ass. I began wriggling away… and he pulled me back. My hands gripped the end of the sofa, so they had something to do. Each slap stung worse, and I reminded myself that these were your hands. When I remembered that, I shoved my ass up a little higher in to the air, taking it, asking for it, giving it to you.

Damn, it was hurting though. Burning. The humiliation of this was getting to me. I was not tied up, I was completely free. I had actually asked for this, because you had told me to, and I was begging to be punished, because you desired it. It was the strangest and hottest situation I have been in in a long, long time. Feeling him whack me, and knowing it was you. Feeling the arousal inside me, the wetness, the passion, and knowing it was being brought on by pain…

I hadn’t realized I was crying. Not loudly, or I couldn’t really tell whether it was loud or not. I didn’t think it was loud but it must have been loud enough for him to hear. He stopped, and took my head, turning it to see my face. I looked up at him and must have had a pitiful look, for he reached on hand to my cheeks and wiped tears away with his thumb.

I saw him raise his hand again, and I burried my face down again, gritted my teeth and felt more slaps against my ass.

I don’t know if you have ever been spanked. It seems to someone from the outside like it is not a big deal. But the harder it is, the longer it goes on, it raises welts. The skin burns and the pain can actually penetrate deeply. My tears were real. I remember wondering how I could be submitting myself to this, so willingly, and enjoying it so much. I must be a sicky to want pleasure to be mixed with pain.

It didn’t matter. I had committed to the punishment, and it was being carried out. I was obeying.

I think he spanked my ass with about 50 strokes or so. I never once asked for him to stop. I never once failed to remember this was you, Matt, you with me across your lap. I was laying there, taking your punishment, and I remembered it with every stroke. I think the only thing I wanted more than what was happening was for you to be there so that the strokes would be harder, and so that I knew I would have your cock inside me when it was over.

When he finally stopped, my ass kept right on hurting. It was on fire, and the fire burned whether there were any more strokes then or not. I wasn’t crying hard, just tears running down my cheeks. My cheeks turn red and emphasize my freckles when I cry. I have been told I look younger when I cry.

He stroked the welts on my ass. Gently running his fingers along them, enjoying what he had done to me.

After a couple of minutes, I had stopped crying and he stopped fondling my ass and put his fingers down to my pussy, spreading the lips wide. I spread my legs wide, exposing myself to him… and to you. I wondered if you would be thinking about me, about fucking me, while you were fucking Gillian…

When he was ready he stood me up, and turned me around, leaning me over so that my stomach was on the sofa, ass jutting out. I knew he would do this, he was not going to pass up the chance to fuck me after hurting me like that. I wanted it too, because I knew I would be thinking about your cock sliding in to me, pushing in to me, deep, deeper than I have ever felt…

And it did. Your cock found my pussy lips, and I felt it press and spread them wide. I was so wet, a total pain slut, ready to orgasm from the pain and humiliation. I felt like a slut right then, being used by you for your pleasure, and it made me so excited that I climaxed by the fourth or fifth time he pushed in to me. Of couse, he wasn’t ready, and kept going, which kept me going…

My ass was still on fire, though it was fading. Still in pain, while I was being fucked to a second orgasm. You grabbed my hair, and pulled it, so that I had to arch my head and back. God, the feeling of you plunging in to me, fucking me harder… your cock suddenly convulsing and your thrusts stopping as you strained to push in to me, to push your semen in to my body…

So, here I am. Telling you of what I did for you. In obedience to you. Your slut, your slut by proxy, your pain slut. I had the most intense experience tonight. Pain. Pleasure. You. Mingled.

I cheated on him, and used him. Thank you for punishing me, and degrading me. I am your slut from afar, obedient to you.

My ass still hurts and it has been several hours.

Basement

My first night in the basement came about a week after the honeymoon.

Jason was particularly aggressive that day. When I came home from work, he was waiting and immediately took my hand and guided me upstairs. In the bedroom, he pushed me down to the bed, and produced handcuffs that quickly secured my arms above my head. With my wrists handcuffed to the bed, he straddled me, passion in his eyes, desire emanating from his body. Just looking at him made me wet with arousal, and I wanted him so badly I could hardly stand it.

The cuffs kept me from clutching him to me, and instead he ripped my clothes off, tearing off my blouse as I breathed heavily from arousal, spreading my legs to either side of his body. My legs wrapped slightly around his kneeling form, the sound of his zipper producing a gasp of anticipation from me. He was rock hard. His cock slid against my soaking wet panties, and I almost came right then.

He took a black cloth and covered my eyes, blindfolding me. I could see nothing, but felt everything. The blindfold made me feel all the more helpless and vulnerable, which in turn made me even more aroused. I wanted him inside of me so badly.

I jerked against the cuffs, I knew there was no point but I could not help it. My body wanted to surround him, take him in to me, grasp him and consume him. Instead I jerked and strained and lay their with my legs wide, pleading for him to enter. He did, finally. His cock found its way around the slim crotch of my panties and pushed it aside, slipping up my cunt with ease in spite of its size, I was so wet.

Within moments I had my first orgasm, my legs gripping his hips and my hands grasping the bed above my head. I screamed out his name, breasts heaving and hips convulsing. The pleasure flooded warm and intense, spurred on by his constant thrusting deep inside.

He continued to slide in and out of me, grunting and pushing deep. My body pressed up on the bed, shoved higher by his thrusting. My hands found the wall and pushed, to keep myself from moving too far. My wrists hurt from the tight cuffs, and the pain served to stimulate my desire even more. I wanted my breasts bitten, I needed to have him thrust harder, harder until it hurt. And he did... his thrusts became more urgent and intense, and my hands once again grabbed the bed as a flood of warm orgasm started in my hips and spread throughout my body. At the same time, he grunted loudly, and I felt the tightening of his muscles, the hardening of his cock and the sudden deep thrust and convulsion of his ejaculation, deep inside me.

He collapsed on top of me, exhausted. We were both panting, gasping, our skin shiny with sweat from the intensity of our love making. He felt so good on top of me, his weight reassuring, his hands comforting as he held my sides.

When he recovered, he raised up, clothed himself once more, and with a single gentle touch on my cheek he left the room. I remained laying on my back, wrists cuffed above my head, semen dripping from my pussy on to the sheets. I waited patiently for his pleasure.

There were sounds from downstairs. Guests had come to dinner. I wasn't invited, but lay in the bed, shackled and blindfolded. The feeling of loneliness was piercing, but I knew I was his slave, to do with as he pleased. This was my fate, to be bound and wait his pleasure.

There was a wet spot on the bed beneath me. My pussy had drained on to it.

I could not tell what time of day it was, all was dark under the blindfold.

After several hours, he came to me, undid the blindfold and uncuffed me from the bed.

"Siobhan, dear... you have been messy. Look at this." He pointed to the wet spot under my ass.

"I am afraid you are not fit to sleep in my bed tonight. I think you need to spend the night in the cellar."

He produced a chain, with heavy shackles on it. "Kneel" he commanded.

I knelt in front of him. I was learning, I knew the position, with knees spread wide, my hands on my legs, head bowed.

He approached me, and hinged a large collar around my neck. It fit snugly, though not painfully. I could breathe well. The metal was heavy though, thick and cold on my bare skin.

Two more metal rings were applied to my wrists. They were locked on with small pins that took a special tool to screw in. All three shackles were connected by short lengths of chain, short enough my wrists were prevented from going below my chest height. I would not be able to reach my pussy.

Raising me up by the chain, Jason guided me down the stairs and in to the basement. When we reached the bottom, he locked the chain to a beam near the floor. I would be able to move two feet or so, no farther. The concrete floor was hard, the room dark. The chains were heavy and while they weighed me down, they were short and prevented much movement.

"Jason... I am sorry. Whatever I did, I can correct it. Please... don't leave me here tonight." I pleaded with him, respectfully. Trying not to whine. He hated it when I whined.

"Siobhan, dear... I think you need to start getting used to this. You are a slave. You sleep in my bed when it pleases me, for my reasons. None other. Make yourself comfortable, and I will see you in the morning."

Tears came to my eyes as my master turned to go. "Jason... what... what do I do? I mean... if I need to go to the restroom?"

As he climbed the stairs, he called out "Hold it!"

The door closed and total darkness descended. I curled up on the hard floor, and felt my bladder swell. I would not make it through the night, it was already hurting.

I wondered if I would get any sleep.