Four Days Training, Part 4

The next morning I woke with butterflies in my stomach.

Jason was coming home that day! I was so excited. It seemed like it had been two weeks. So much had happened during my time at Mistress Erin's home. I really believed I had become a better, more subservient slave. And I was enjoyed the time immensely.

Maybe that would be hard for some people to understand, how I could be happy and enjoy the time when it consisted of being caned, tied up in tightly constricting sleep sacks, forced to wear painful collars, flogged, hobbled... well, that's for another blog entry. Maybe it would take up a whole book. But the bottom line is that I loved it and it fulfills something very primal inside me.

I quickly put away my sheets and blankets from my evening on the couch. I had slept naked, and without permission could not dress.

Erin had left the posture collar out for me the night before, and I put it on. I knelt and waited for her.

It is amazing to me to think how little freedom Erin allowed me and how quickly I adapted to it. Jason never insists that I kneel and wait for him when he is not using me; I am relatively free to go about whatever I like unless he has given me some sort of command. At Erin's I had quickly learned to constantly be submissive, waiting for a command and not pleasing myself in any way unless she released me.

I began to think of the tales of Gore, and that I might actually be taking on some of the characteristics of a Gorean slave.

When Erin came out she had something in a box, something I didn't recognize at first.

"You are leaving us today, and I wanted to give you a token of regard, a thank you for a job well done," she said. It was hard to hear this. I couldn't believe it.

"Here is a small gift I have for you."

She pulled it out and I recognized it immediately. An armbinder.

Armbinders are evil bondage devices, designed to keep one's hands and arms secure and completely immovable behind the back. The are long term, not easily removed because of the tight lacing involved. I've worn them many times before, and appreciate the tight constricted bondage they represent.

So, armbinders are sort of like one of my main fetishes. The one Erin pulled out was gorgeous, full length and made of a supple fine leather, good straps for the shoulders to prevent wriggling out, and small-- some arm binders are designed to give extra wriggle room. This one was designed to be laced tight and press forearms completely together behind the back.

"Let's try it, shall we?" Erin said. I smiled and nodded, turning around and placing my hands behind my back, palms flat against each other.

Erin slid the monoglove up my arms. It immediately pressed and contracted my arms together, before she even began lacing. I could tell this would be a tight one. It made me wet kneeling there as she put it on.

She pulled the shoulder straps on and buckled them. This already effectively disabled me, my arms were trapped and I would be unable to move them in any way. But the lacing came next; pulling on the laces to tighten them, inch by inch.

When she was done, my forearms were completely pressed together and elbows were not just touching, but smashing against each other. That thing was tight, and I was completely immobile.

To tell you the truth, being in the binder made me want to spread my legs and have someone fuck me.

James was there, looking on. Both he and Erin were fully clothed, whereas I was naked, as was befitting my slave status in their household. Jim marveled at how I took the tight constraint. "You are flexible, and I don't think I have ever seen a woman look as sexy as you do right now, bound like this."

I blushed. I would have lowered my head but the posture collar interfered.

The spike I had worn the day before was detachable, and Erin brought it over and inserted it into it's clutch on the collar. Immediately my head and chin went up, higher than the collar forced me.  I was beginning to hate that spike.

Erin admired me sitting there, arms strapped behind my back, hair nicely brushed and pulled back to expose my face, naked, with my head tilted up to accommodate the collar and spike.

"Very nice," Erin said. "I expect Jason will enjoy seeing his wife this way.

Erin ran her hands over my body. She liked the way my skin looked when it was pulled tight from the binder. She even mentioned how she liked my breasts better when my arms were pulled tight behind me.

"Well, Jason will be home soon, and I want you all ready for him. Let's go over to your place, shall we?"

I wondered what she meant. I couldn't very well march naked from my house down the street wearing the armbinder and posture collar.

No, but almost. Erin got me a robe. I stood up and she slung it over my shoulders then marched me out the front door and on to the sidewalk. The collar and spike was still clearly visible. A couple of the neighbors across the street were watering lawns or something, and while I couldn't really look at them with the collar on, I can't help but think the saw me walking up to my place, led by Erin.

It was just a tiny bit embarrassing.

Inside my own house my perception changed so drastically. I realized that in Erin's home, the entire environment had been somewhat alien and unfamiliar. This contributed to a sense of unease and anxiety. I felt more vulnerable there.

In my own home, with the very same armbinder, posture collar, and spike in place, I felt more at home and less intimidated. The psychological effect was powerful.  This was my house. I might be in bondage and subservient, but it was my house. I lived here with Jason.

And I yearned for Jason.

Jason would be home soon, perhaps a few hours.

Erin went to my room upstairs and fetched a corset that Jason sometimes has me wear.

"We are going to get you all pretty and sensual for Jason coming home. I want him to be delighted with your presentation." Erin was working on getting me ready for Jason's return, as a submissive slave.

A lovely ball gag. It was one of mine; the familiarity of the ball gag made me feel like I was at home, too. This was my gag, I'd worn it many times before. It felt like home.

Erin ran me through some last minute exercises that could be accomplished with my arms bound behind me. I was proud, I was doing them well and she only hit me with the cane a couple of times.

Finally, she said it was time for my final preparation.

She strapped my legs into a frogtie; ankles to thighs.

Jason got me a fitted hood for Christmas last year, and she found that, and put it on. It laces up as tightly as the armbinder, form fitting my face and head.

I lay on my stomach, basically unable to move much at all. It was lovely. And I mean it. This was the kind of uncomfortable extreme bondage that I needed in my soul. It made me feel helpless, vulnerable, scared, naked, and I nearly had an orgasm.

Jason came home after I had been in that bondage position about an hour. Erin and James greeted him, and I heard them being friendly, discussing his trip and how good it was to be home. I wanted to run up and kiss him, but couldn't. I had been relegated to the floor of the bathroom in the master bedroom.  I'd be lucky if I could wriggled a couple of inches.

When Jason came in he was extremely pleased to see me presented to him in that manner. He said aloud that he really wished he could fuck me while I was bound like that (my legs were spread and I would have loved nothing more). But he was exhausted.

After unpacking and getting himself some iced tea, Jason released me.

"Welcome home, master," I said when he removed the hood. I meant it too.

I stood and he removed the arm binder. My arms were actually rather numb, and I moved them carefully to get the circulation back. They hurt for a while, but were OK.

Jason got me the loveliest gift during his travels. A decorative posture collar. It's made of a copper material with a green copper leaf pattern on it. It looks just like a pretty choker or necklace, jewelry of some sort. Except it is high enough it really presses my head and chin up.

I could even get away with wearing it in public, I think. It will draw some stares, but I might try it some time.

He might have been tired, but once I was with him, I wrapped myself around Jason, and his hardened cock slipped inside, and we fucked like rabbits. It was soooo good to have him home.

Four Days Training, Part 3

The next morning. It was Saturday. A glorious day off, except for me. I was absolutely sure that Erin would be working me to the bone with discipline and punishment. The last three days I had been in more punishment and bondage situations that the last three weeks with Jason.

When I woke, Erin and her husband were still in bed. I was still chained to the bed, and of course had to pee. Really badly. I had not gone since I had gone to sleep the night before. But I knew better than to wake Erin and ask to be unchained.

I lay quietly, the pain in my bladder keeping me from thinking about anything else except going to the toilet. When Erin finally stirred and looked over the edge of the bed at me, I bowed my head and asked politely, "Mistress, may I use the toilet?"

Erin sighed and said, "Just a moment." She went in and used the toilet first, then came out and unlocked me. I went in, peed (thank goodness!) and came back out. I assumed a relaxed obedience stance, kneeling in the corner, waiting for instructions.

The first instruction was to fix breakfast, which I did quickly. I am a decent cook, and I served Erin and James. Erin actually allowed me to sit at the table with them. Both she and her husband were dressed (though I happened to know James was in chastity inside his pants), and I was naked. This once again reinforced the fact I was not a full fledged member of their household, I was a servant and submissive, below Erin's slave in status.

After eating breakfast Erin leashed and collared me and took me outside.

"We have some gardening to do today. I was going to do it myself, but since you are here, I think you can help.

I was outdoors, in their back yard, and naked. It felt incredibly exposed, the property was relatively large and the walls around it were high, but still... someone could look over at any time. Most of my neighbors did not know of my special status as an owned slave.

But, there was really not much choice. I followed the leash, went outside and was directed to an area that needed weeding.

"I am going to be planting some flowers on this side, I want this whole area weeded by the time I am done." It was a large area. The sun was hot, making me sweat already, and I hadn't even started.

"Get to it, slave!" Erin barked.

"Yes mistress." I knelt and suddenly realized she had not given me any tools. "Mistress... may I have a trowel?"

"No," was the simple answer.

Figures. I knelt and began weeding with my bare hands. Such is the life of a submissive. I was collared and chained, and the chain was wrapped around a tree a short distance away.

I worked hard on weeding. I think I did a pretty good job. There wasn't a lot of weeds, I think Erin takes good care of her garden. I had a nice, tidy pile of nasty invasive plants sitting on the grass and was just about done when Erin came over and said, "well, I am done, I hope you are."

"Yes, Mistress," I said obediently. "I think I have just about finished."

"Really? I see you haven't even begun on this area here." It was a section next to the flower bed where I was working. My heart sank. "I... I thought... you only wanted this part done."

"Oh, Siobhan. First of all, remember your terms of respect. Second of all, I said to weed this entire area, and you are barely half done."

I knew what was happening. She wanted to punish me. It actually didn't matter what I did at that point, she would make sure there was some failure so she would have an excuse to punish.

"Mistress. I am sorry, Mistress. I will take care of this immediately, Mistress."

Erin walked away and I started in on the area she had shown me. It was an irrigated dirt area that had been prepped for flowers, but needed some weeds pulled out. I crawled around, hands and knees, getting myself filthy dirty, pulling weeds.

After about ten minutes Erin came back out and observed. I didn't stop working.

Finally she spoke. "You are filthy. That's enough weeding. Get your filthy body in the kitchen."

"Yes, Mistress."

She led me on all fours, crawling into the house.  Damn... I had never been so continuously subjected to bondage, humiliation, and submission... well, since I had been to the pony farm.

It became clear why she wanted me in the kitchen. I had not done the dishes.

That was a major mistake. I did them, but I knew what was in store.

"For your failures today, for your filthy state, your inability to weed properly, and your complete and utter failure to maintain the kitchen, you will be punished." Erin said this sternly, and with a bit of satisfaction.

I simply hung my head and said, "Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."

Erin took me into her dungeon. It's a room in the back of her house. It's been modified a bit. It has some extra sound proofing, the window has been blacked out and covered, and it has a little special equipment in it.

I've always been scared that Jason would get the idea of having a dungeon from Erin.

She tied me down on a table. Arms tied back behind me and pointing down toward the floor. My thighs were tied to a rope loop that went around my waist. This kept my knees all the way up, exposing my ass and pussy quite effectively.

Erin then quickly tied my feed back, giving them some slack but they were pulled back enough that it was impossible for me to cover my ass or pussy in any way. It was obvious from the position she had me in what she was going to work on.

She flogged my pussy. A nice multi-tailed flogger, which doesn't cut like a single tailed whip. But, it made my cunt sting and burn. I wriggled, moaned, screamed a little.  Screamed a lot. It was glorious. I would never admit it to her but I live for being tied like that, helpless and vulnerable, and then punished.

She whipped me for about 10 minutes, after which she took a break, had a glass of water, and looked me over. I was still whimpering, but no longer crying.

As she stood over me, she said with a sort of kind, thoughtful respect, "You know, I have been thinking. It takes a lot of effort to properly discipline a bitch slave like yourself. Here I am, working up a sweat, exerting myself, all because you failed. That hardly seems fair."

She put the glass of water down and untied me. It took a little while because I was trussed up rather nicely.

"I think you should be able to punish yourself. Don't you?"

I looked at Erin with wide, surprised eyes. "What?"

"See, there you go again. Try it again."

"I'm sorry, Mistress. Yes, Mistress, as you please."

"Better. Sit down there, spread your legs."

I sat on the table and spread my legs. She handed me the flogger.

"Whip yourself. Whip your pussy. I want it nice and red. Do a good job."

Whoa. This was a new one. I wasn't tied up, but was expected to punish myself, to show complete obedience.

I did. I took the flogger and started whacking my pussy. I actually tried hard, too, striking it with all my strength. It hurt a lot. I couldn't get it as hard as she was doing it, because the angle was odd. She had more room to swing at a better angle. But I did a pretty decent job. I cried some while I beat my cunt, and finally she told me to stop.

You know, I thought Erin would let up on me some, since it was my last full day there. In some ways she did, I suppose, but because I was there the full day it didn't seem like it. After I was done flogging my own pussy, she told me to take a shower and wash off the dirt from gardening.

Notice that during all this James was basically just living his life, doing his hobbies, paying bills, whatever. Normal husband stuff. But because I was the "guest" submissive, I got all of Erin's attention. I think I resented him some for that.

Anyway, Erin and James went out to do some shopping. I was left in the house to amuse myself. A relief, really. One catch.

A posture collar.

Yeah. A dumb device designed to just make things a bit more uncomfortable for slaves and submissives. I'd worn them a number of times before, and they really aren't too bad. They are a form of bondage that is designed to let you know you are restricted, you can't move completely freely, but you can still move around and it doesn't actually hurt.

This one sort of hurt though. It had a spike thing in it. It pointed directly up against the under side of my chin, into the soft fleshy part there.  This was a serious posture collar that was going to insist that I keep my head up at all times.

I remember this was an ancient medieval torture device, except in that case it was a sharpened fork that was driven deep into the victim's chest just above their collar bone, and into their chin. They couldn't dislodge it and any attempt to speak or lower their head just got them impaled even worse.

This wasn't that bad. The bottom of the spike was rounded, and while the top that went into my chin was sharp, it wasn't like... razor sharp or anything. Sharp enough to make it pretty uncomfortable, though. I had to keep my neck up and straight, and my chin up in order to keep it from digging in, which it did anyway.

So yeah. Erin and James left, I was left with my hands strapped behind my back, but free to roam. I turned the TV on and sat down to watch.

Thing was, my chin was forced way high. Watching TV required me to look down my nose, and even then I kept lowering my head and getting poked. I could tell it was beginning to dig a hole in the flesh and I needed to adjust.

Sitting on the floor helped. The TV was at a better angle and I rested my head on the seat of a chair.

Eventually that was also pretty uncomfortable and I lay down on my side. This worked a lot better because laying my head on the floor I didn't have to physically use the muscles in my neck to keep my head up. The back of my neck was beginning to hurt and resting on the carpet was just... wonderful.

Eventually I had to go to the bathroom, and struggled back to my feet. With my wrists cuffed behind my back it was a little difficult and I managed to impale my chin more than once. The sharp spike had definitely broken skin. Ugh.

I peed and pooped and managed to clean myself with my hands still cuffed, which was a fete, let me tell you. Though I kept jamming my chin down on the spike. The only way to keep it from slowly drilling its way through my lower chin and into my mouth was to lay perfectly still.

Fortunately there was something on TV and I just lay naked on the carpet and watched. Until Erin and James came home.

Thank goodness. It was mid afternoon and Erin and James had gone grocery shopping, and had gone to the dry cleaners. I sat up on my knees with legs spread in a submissive position, though I couldn't bow my head with the posture collar on. They went about their business, and then Erin and James went upstairs.

I was being left alone, though it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience because of the collar.

At about 3 in the afternoon Erin came down and told me it was time to drill my submissive positions, and learn new ones. This I could do, and thank goodness, she removed the collar! Oh, it felt wonderful. One thing about bondage is that it feels soooo good when it stops. (It feels good when I am in it, too, to tell you the truth).

So Erin reviewed some of the basic positions with me. She led me into the garage. The floor was concrete and a little cold. I understood instinctively that this location was chosen because it was less comfortable than the carpeted interior of the house. I was to be exercised, trained on the cold hardness of concrete to reinforce my submissive and obedient nature.

She ran me through the basic submission of kneeling, hands behind back or behind my head.  She began to emphasize good posture and exposure. For example, always keeping my head up and face directly ahead unless the position called for looking down as a sign of submission.

My back was to be perfectly straight as well. This did not come naturally to me, and she snapped me with a riding crop whenever I did not meet her standards.

As the training went on I realized just what a poor, untrained slave I had been for Jason. My attention to detail in serving him had really been bad. Erin was making me aware of this, and it was not easy for me.

For example, my head position was sloppy. To help me remember and train me, Erin put on another kind of posture collar, less severe than the other one with the spike, which she referred to as a punishment collar (it really was, too, there was no way it could be worn for long without it becoming quite painful). The collar helped me keep my neck extended and head in a good position, even when looking down in submission. I discovered that even when in the worship position, kneeling with face on the floor and arms outstretched, my head and neck could use training to keep them extended and looking sharp.

Next, Erin taught me what she called punishment positions. We had not gone over any of these. She explained, "while you are not being punished, it is necessary for you to experience the pain and strain of the punishment position in order to learn how to execute them correctly. "

"Yes, Mistress," I said obediently. I didn't look forward to this, but knew it was a good experience.

She went over three positions. The first, the raised attention position, was simply standing very straight on my tiptoes.

Wow, that was hard. The precise position was demanding. Arms to the side, hands next to my thighs, elbows slightly back but arms straight. She whipped me several times until I learned how to do this. Neck was straight and raised (the posture collar helped with this), and face down slightly to show obedience and regret for whatever I was being punished for.

And then onto the toes.

Hold it.... for ten minutes. You try it. Try standing on your toes without moving a muscle for ten minutes straight. I mean it. Your legs start burning and eventually shaking. Trying to hold the exact position was hhhaaarrrdddd.... and she swatted me hard with the crop when I didn't do it properly.

We actually did the raised attention position several times. I thought I would die.

The prone punishment position... it was horrible as well.

"Lay on your stomach," Erin said. I did.

"Legs up off the floor." I lifted them. "Knees can not touch!" She barked. I raised them a little more.

James was there for most of this, observing. I kept wondering why my next door neighbor was watching me do these hideous exercises.

"Raise your head," Erin said.  I did. It made keeping my legs off the floor a little harder.

"Breasts off the floor," she said.

Now that was difficult. I bent and curved my back, and used my arms (which lay at my sides) to get myself up. My boobs are not large (thank goodness) but big enough it was really hard to get off the floor so the nipples didn't brush the concrete.

Instantly my back ached and my legs started shaking.

"Arms and hands off the ground." I lifted my hands off the ground, next to my ass, about three inches above the concrete.

"Wow," I said. This was painful. My body started out well, though strained. It didn't take long before I was shaking. When my nipples brushed the floor, Erin struck me with the crop on my ass and I jerked back up. If my knees touched the floor, I got the same treatment.

It felt like an hour in that position. It wasn't. James later told me it had been about five minutes but it felt like an hour.

The last punishment position was actually a lot simpler and less painful. I stood on a simple board, wrists behind my back, bent over at a 90 degree angle. Erin measure the angle, and I was to maintain it exactly.

OK, yes, that was a lot of strain.

"Let me help you. This will actually help a lot, believe it or not." Erin produced two nipple clamps with cords dangling from them. The clamps went on my nipples and were pulled down and tied to the board beneath me.

"There, if you keep the twine restraints below you tight, you will be at the right angle. If you pull too hard, the clamps come off, and that means you off. If the twine goes slack, you are bending too far. Got it?"

"Yes, Mistress."

That actually helped. I had a very precise guide. It was painful as heck, my lower back and thighs screamed after a while, much worse than the clamps, but I kept the position precisely.

Punishment positions training took about two hours, total, after which we took a break.

I literally got down on my knees and kissed Erin's feet in thanks for allowing me to take a break. She seemed to like that. I totally needed the break. I was exercising muscles in my body that had never been exercised before.

The final set of new positions involved submissive to physical intrusion. That is, submitting to something that would enter my body. Whether that was a penis, a dildo, or some other object of my master's (or mistress's) choosing.

The first was a position I had learned while in high school, frankly. For some reason, dominant males liked this position when being sucked off.

On my stomach. Knees bent. Arms behind me, hands reaching out and gripping my ankles. If done properly, this causes a slight bowing of the back, and my breasts were to lift up slightly. My face, of course, is to be raised, mouth open, ready for whatever service is desired.

For this, Erin practiced having me take a dildo.

The next position was a formal variation of the first, and another one which was used frequently. The formal position was slightly different than what I had provided to Jason and others in the past, but it was still familiar.

On my stomach. Knees bent, and ankles available to my hands. Grip them if necessary.

But, raise the buttocks, and make sure the knees are spread far apart. There is a trick to this. If I spread my knees too far apart, by hips would go down. If I had my knees too close to each other, there was no easy access to my cunt (or ass).

During my time in this position, my face was flat down against the concrete floor of the garage.

James watched me, of course, while performing these positions. He was thankfully silent. I honestly don't think I will ever think of my neighbor the same way. And I don't think he will ever think of me the same way.

We practiced these positions several times, and then the last position was introduced.

Formal pussy presentation.

It started on my knees, bowing before my mistress.

Then, I would rise up and slowly move my body back. Once in the upright position, I would move my hands behind me to help me as my body continued back to where my shoulders touched the floor.

Erin reached a hand under my back, her hand made a fist to show the distance between my back and the floor, and she explained I was to keep my back arched at all times.

My knees were spread at a 45 degree angle, exposing my cunt. Because I was still sort of in the kneeling position with my ass on my feet, my hips were raised and my cunt was more accessible.

My hands were to be relaxed and resting on the floor next to my legs.

Mistress Erin fondled my pussy flesh while I lay in this position, and then announced we were ready for dinner.

Wow, Erin and James were going to take me out to Saturday night dinner! I was so overjoyed! To be allowed to accompany my mistress out on a date. Well, sort of a date.

I suddenly realized how in just four days I had come to think of Erin as my Mistress, and to be devoted to her service. I was proud of the progress I had made. She was damned good.

Erin's only demand for dinner was that I dress nicely, but wear no panties. Easy.

When we were at the restaurant (a nice Italian place close to home), the reason for the "no panties" rule revealed itself. Mistress Erin instructed me to play with myself under the table.

Again, easy. Yes, there was some risk of being seen but frankly that just excited me all the more. I almost wanted someone to discover me. So, I hiked up my skirt just a bit, moved my hand down and began rubbing.

I came, a nice, quiet, gasping orgasm, somewhere between the salad and the entree.  This show pleased Mistress Erin.

We got back from the restaurant at about 10, and I was given sheets and blankets to make my own bed on the couch. Wow.

I didn't have to sleep on the floor. I had graduated from restrictive sleep sack, to simply chained on the floor, and finally to sleeping on the soft couch with a pillow.  I swelled with pride and once again thanked Mistress Erin for her kindness.

Jason was due to pick me up the next day. It was bittersweet. I had really enjoyed the rough handling and discipline at Mistress Erin's. But, Jason is my owner. I missed him. I love him. I needed to be with him again and was eager for that.

I slept well that night.

Four Days Training, Part 2

The next day was Friday. Another work day.

Mistress Erin woke me early from where I slept on the floor. "Clean the kitchen floor before you go to work," she barked at me, then headed to the bathroom to get ready for work.

"Mistress, may I pee first?" I asked politely.

"No." She said simply, and continued dressing.

That was it. I really needed to pee, but I had not received permission. I had a task to perform. At least I wasn't tied up. I had relative freedom to perform my duties.

Even so, my wrists and ankles were shackled, so movement was somewhat limited. I crawled naked into the kitchen, got a rag and some cleaner and began scrubbing.

Jim, Erin's slave husband came in and walked on the floor when I was nearly done. He left large dirty prints on the floor. I looked up at him with anger. "Hey!"

"Siobhan, right now you are at the bottom of the totem pole. Sorry, girl." I could tell he wasn't sorry at all. He liked seeing me naked, on my hands and knees. In fact, he was glad Erin was paying attention to me instead of him.

When I finished cleaning the floor, Erin demanded I fix breakfast for her and Jim. I did this quickly, for I needed to pee badly. My bladder was literally hurting, it was so full. I was also going to be late for my own work, if Erin didn't release me soon.

When breakfast was over (I didn't get any, I just served), Erin and Jim left.

"Please, Mistress. May I pee now?"

Erin nodded. "Yes, go pee, but present yourself for inspection afterward."

I ran into the bathroom. Unfortunately, the running, combined with how badly I needed to go--- well, I leaked. I sprayed some urine on the floor.

Peed into the toilet. What a relief! I would have been in massive trouble if I had lost control when in the kitchen in from of Mistress.

Except Mistress came into the bathroom for inspection. I stood and took the inspection position I had been taught earlier. Erin came in and.... stepped right into the puddle of pee I had left.

Her face got red, but she didn't do anything. She simply told me to spread my legs slightly. The day before she had made me wear nipple clamps to work. Small clamps that smashed my nipples painfully the entire day.

This day, I was given a pussy clamp with a small bell hanging from it. The clamp was quite tight and hurt a lot going on. In fact, I wondered if it would pierce a hole in my labia.

"We will attend to punishment for ... this..." she waved at the urine on the floor, "this evening. In the mean time, wear the labia bell all day. I will know if you take it off. Clean up the bathroom floor before you leave."

And with that, Erin was gone to work. I was alone.

I set about cleaning the bathroom floor. I cried some while I scrubbed. It had been a rough morning, a painful one, and I had failed. I would be punished that evening for my failure.

Not only was I humiliated, I was scared. I didn't know what being punished by Erin would be like. A whipping? Riding a wooden pony? The worst thing I could think of was when Jason used capsaicin on my freshly shaved cunt. I had sobbed in pain from that. Oh, I hoped she wouldn't do anything like that.

I stood and my labia bell tinkled. I would have to be careful at work. The clamp on my labia hurt, but I knew that with time it would subside to an ache, and not hurt much. Until it came off, that is.

With both Erin and her husband gone to work I showered, dressed, and put on my face for work. I was late. I am seldom late for work, but the debacle at Erin's had made me late. Of course, I couldn't explain to anyone at work that I was late because I had been forced to clean my next door neighbor's floor naked on my hands and knees, and then had peed on her bathroom floor and had to clean that up as well.

It was actually sort of hot, arousing, to think of that as I sat in the first meeting of the day. I wondered what some of the guys around the table would think if they knew what was happening to me at home. I got wet between my legs.

That was compounded when I tinkled. No, not peed, but actually made a tinkling noise. My cunt bell had rung. Everyone in the meeting looked around.

"Sorry. Text message," I said, pretending it was my phone.

For the rest of the day I sat still, and when I did move I kept my legs together, to hold the bell in place. I thought of Erin, and going home to her domination, the entire day. Thanks to that damn bell it was about all I could think about.

Because I was late to work, I got home a little late. Entering the house, Jim greeted me. He was naked and in chastity, as he frequently was. "Erin says for you to get undressed and report to her in her office."

He had a sad look on his face. "I think she is sort of.... angry."

Uh oh. Erin was not a loving, caring master like Jason. She was a stern, iron fisted ruler. I undressed and reported to her. I knelt with head down. "I am here, Mistress Erin."

She was working at her desk, so I simply remained kneeling, waiting for her. Finally she turned her desk chair toward me and looked down with a look of pained dissatisfaction.

"The incident this morning must be punished. Urinating on the floor? Are you kidding, Siobhan? Do I have a dog, a pet here? And now, returning home late. Another transgression."

I was silent, knowing nothing I could say would help.

"Follow me," she rose and headed out the door. She was clothed, of course, I was naked. As was her male slave. "Follow us," she told Jim.

We went into the garage. It was a little cold there and I shivered, crossing my arms in front of me.

"You'll be plenty warm soon enough." Erin pointed me to a corner where there was a thin blanket covering the hard concrete. "Kneel, facing the wall."

I knelt.

"Fasten her." She said. Jim took some leather cuffs and clipped my wrists to each other, and then raised them above my head. There he clipped them to a chain. Erin grabbed the chain and pulled it swiftly but evenly so my arms were above my head.  I was still kneeling, but raised up on my knees, facing the wall.

There was no announcement when the flogging began. I couldn't see who was doing it to me, but I assume it was Erin. I gasped during the first two or three strokes, and cried out.

"Don't make me gag you. I don't want the neighbors to hear." snapped Erin. I like being gagged, it gives me something to bite into when I am being whipped, but I also understood that if Erin had to gag me it was likely to have more unpleasant consequences.

I closed my mouth and just took the flogging, grunting slightly as the flogger stung my back.

I've been flogged plenty of times. This one didn't hurt to badly, though being forced to kneel and look at a wall during the flogging, and not being allowed to make a noise, that did give it a certain... flavor.

After perhaps 20 or 30 strokes of the lash Erin stopped, and said, "that's for being late."

Whoa. She hadn't even begun the punishment for my peeing on the floor. I was in deep shit.

I was unhooked.

"Time for you to fix us dinner." Erin led me back into the kitchen. My back and ass were burning from the whipping, but it wasn't too bad. It sort of made me feel naked, though. You know how sometimes, something happens that just emphasizes your nakedness and vulnerability?

Jim has seen me naked before, but I don't think I have ever paraded around before him this much without a bit of clothing.

Before I could make dinner, a special little gift was applied.

Erin braided my hair into a quick knot behind my head, but wrapped a thin cord with the hair, tying it off firmly. The cord was then tied to an ass hook. The cord was too short. My head was jerked back until the ass hook would slide into my ass... it hurt, it was forced.

Then they let go of my head. It naturally moved forward, which pulled the hair forward which in turn pulled the ass hook up. Deeper into my ass.

I yelped. "Aaagh!" It hurt. The ass hook had a round knob at the end so it wouldn't cut or poke, but still... it was jammed up there tight. It was going to just be a pain in the ass to make dinner in that thing.

Yep. It was. Literally. A pain in the ass.

I worked in the kitchen for an hour. Every time I needed to look down, I pulled hard and impaled my ass. There was a lot I could do with my head raised, and the pressure on my ass relieved (somewhat). But there was a lot that just required that I be bent over backwards to allow my head the ability to look down.

Just, oww. Ass hooks are not new to me. But usually, they are applied during bondage situations where I basically just stay in one position and endure. This was different. The thing kept tugging and rubbing inside my rectum as I moved around and got dinner ready.

I served, too. Erin and Jim. I really was at the bottom of the food chain in her house; even her slave was above me.

I ate leftovers, scraps from their plates that Erin scraped into a dog bowl. It tasted good, actually. It was my cooking, even if it was just the scraps from their plates.

When everything was cleaned up, Erin announced, "It's time for your punishment. For urinating on my floor. Disgusting. Truly disgusting."

Damn. It was her fault, because I told her I needed to pee and she kept saying no! I couldn't hold it any longer. But this is the life of a sub. Get impossible tasks, and when you fail, get punished for it. I... um... actually enjoy it. Just because I complain about how much it hurts, or how difficult it is, doesn't mean it isn't a core need.

For this punishment she took me to the living room and lay me down on my back on a large futon she has. Jim was placed in a corner, naked, facing the wall. This was the same position he had been in when I first arrived.

I wondered how much time he spent there. It seemed like a sort of "storage space" where Erin put him when she didn't want him. She just said, "Corner" in a quiet voice, and bam! There he was, in the corner, facing the wall.

No one ties people up faster or better than Erin. I mean, Jason does a damn good job, but Erin? She has some sort of special dexterity or something. It seemed like seconds before my wrists were tied and secured over my head. There was little support for my head and my ass hung off the edge.

Erin appeared over me. She'd removed her top and was naked from the waist up. Oh, I would have loved for her to bend over enough for me to reach my head up and suckle one of those breasts... she has gorgeous breasts.  No luck there. Instead she took out a cane.

I really hate canes. They are small, lightweight, and don't seem like much. But wow, they can sting! And when you keep getting whacked in the same place, the sting burns and really hurts. I knew I was in for it. She wasn't going to cane my ass, since it was pointing away from her.

She caned my breasts. Whack-whack-whack-whack-whack-whack-whack... over and over again. Not horribly hard, but with each whack the pain, the stinging burning pain, kept growing and spreading. Pretty soon my boobs felt like they were going to explode in flames.

Tears were trickling down the side of my head, out of the corners of my eyes. I sobbed quietly as Erin  kept whacking away.

After a while I couldn't help but begin struggling. I mean, you try it! Get tied down and have someone cane you constantly for 20 minutes and see if you don't start struggling!

Actually, struggling is part of what I enjoy. It reinforced my helplessness and that there really is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do to get away from that sadistic bitch. It pissed her off though, which is typical.

"So you don't want your tits caned any more? Huh?" She said. Her hand went out and gently fondled my breasts. Her own naked nipples were getting dangerously close to mine. I lifted my head (still crying) and tried to get my lips engaged with her right nipple. I just barely brushed it, and she reacted. Jumping back.

"Oh, no, my little slut. You have not earned the right to taste my body or pleasure me as yet!" She grabbed me and turned me over on the futon. Pushing me forward, my boobs now dangling over the edge and my arms all the way down to the floor. I could see poor Jim still standing silently in the corner, listening to my sobs and the sounds of bamboo slapping against flesh.

My ass really was stuck up in the air, and Erin took full advantage.

The bamboo cane came down on my ass repeatedly, and this time I screamed. Not because it hurt worse, but because I was just worn down. There's just so much torment you can take before you just loose mental strength.

Some people call it subspace. I think my mind is in subspace all the time, but it does get to a stage where the pain is all I can think about, the helplessness of being bound, the inevitability of the next stroke, the man or woman who is standing next to me as my god, the determiner of my future torment, and I accept my complete helplessness. My existence as a vessel of pain.

The punishment for peeing on Erin's floor went on for some time. I don't know exactly. I would guess an hour? Though it was probably less. My boobs and ass were burning and red hot, as if they were criss-crossed with knife cuts.

When she stopped she left me there, laying on the futon, to cry. It was a while before I realized she had left the room.

I needed to pee again.

I'm sorry, but this happens, you know? Even when you are in the middle of being punished or some great discipline and bondage scene, your bladder just fills up. And mine did. I couldn't move though. She had tied me down, wrists together and those tied to the bottom of the futon. There was nothing I could do except lay there and wait.

When Erin returned, I hesitantly asked. "Mistress Erin, may I please pee?"

Erin said nothing but left. She returned a little later with a plastic bucket. "Go in the bucket," she said as she shoved it under my hips.

She left and went to watch TV for a while.

It was hard to pee in the bucket. Really hard. My body is trained to urinate in a toilet, and folded over on my stomach across a futon just wasn't the right position. But I finally managed to get the stream going and a little while later you could hear the liquid hitting the bottom and splattering as I released my bladder.

It felt so good.  It smelled slightly.

Jim asked politely, "Mistress, may I also pee in the bucket?"

Erin sighed and brought it over to him. "Squat," she said.

He did, he squatted over the thing to get close to it, peed, and then stood in the corner again.  "Thank you Mistress." he said.

I thought Uhoh, I didn't thank her. Damn, she has him trained better than me. No wonder I am having a hard time here. I really am not trained well.

After Erin watched a TV show she came over and fucked me.

Yeah, that's right. She stripped the rest of the way, put on a strapon, and fucked me. I was still tied to the futon and just stayed there, leaned over, with my legs slightly parted. The dildo was large, though not huge.

It wasn't bad, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either. I am not a fan of strapons, they don't really excite me sexually, except as a form of punishment. Any form of punishment excites me, of course, and Erin was tormenting me with the strap on. So it did rather excite me.

It actually excited me enough that I had an orgasm. The big rubber thing inserted into my cunt, pushing up all the way inside my body so I felt it jamming against my cervix and bowels... yeah. It was painful, and I got off on it.

"Oh, my god, the little slut has had an orgasm!" declared Erin when she saw me shuddering and breathing heavily with hard nipples and a flushed neck. You can always tell when I have an orgasm because my chest and neck, and my cheeks tend to flush.

She fucked me for about 15 minutes, during which I had two shuddering orgasms. She could see me flush, my legs clench and my hips try to thrust when I climaxed, and she laughed and made fun of me after each one. "You little whore! What a slut Jason has raised. Cum for me, slut! Let your body flood with those endorphins. I wanna see your eyes roll up inside your head!"

They probably did, too, for just a bit.

When she finally withdrew and unbuckled the strapon, I remembered to thank her for fucking me. I guess that was OK because she untied me and let me and Jim just sort of lounge around the house, though we were kept naked. That was a little awkward being around Jim, sitting and watching TV, the both of us naked. But then, we were both acting as slaves for Erin, so it was also somewhat natural.

That night I slept on the floor next to their bed again. I was thankful it wasn't the sleep sack. That thing was horrible.

The only problem was that Erin cuffed my hands behind my back and chained them to the end of the bed in a way that kept them at least slightly raised if I was on my stomach, and I simply could not get onto my back. I had to actually sleep partway under the bed in order to get the slack in the chain I needed to be comfortable enough to sleep.

All in all, it had been a good day. Erin is tough, but I am a confirmed submissive and a true masochist... so I enjoyed every minute of it.

And there was still another day before Jason came back.

Four Days Training, Part 1

My relationship with Jason was first founded on love and trust, and as a result of these, I was able to fulfill my deepest sensual and sexual desires by becoming his complete slave.

I've always had a deep need to be dominated. It started long before I dated my first guy or girl, and it has been an underlying need throughout my teen and adult life.  I've been lucky because I've been able to fulfill this need with several partners, and finally settle on one partner, my husband and owner.

That said, we have not been completely monogamous. I would never have sexual relations with anyone other that Jason without his explicit permission. I am owned by him and my body is to be used at his pleasure. But, in certain circumstance, both he and I have engaged in intimate sexual activities with other people.

Because I am owned and his property, he need not ask before engaging in such activities, though he has been very kind in always making sure I was involved in any of his extra-marital sexual encounters. My own sexual interactions with others have been limited to threesome or foursome activities that were directed by, or involved Jason.

The only time I have ever had sex with another person, not Jason, when he was not present, was with an ex-pony girl I knew and fell in love with, and this was with Jason's permission. In fact, he arranged for it. I've not seen this woman since. It was a special gift he gave me. He arranged for the two of us to be together, both in bondage and punishment, but nevertheless we spent a weekend together and our intimacy and physical love was something I will cherish forever.

However, Jason recently turned me over to a neighbor who lives on our street. Her name is Erin. She keeps her husband in strict discipline, chastity and denial, and I've come to respect her as a fairly strict and effective dominatrix. Erin is rigid, demanding, and can be quite cruel. I've seen her poor husband suffering at her hand more than once.

Jason was going on a business trip. Four days away from home. I have my own work as the director of an IT department for a medium sized company.  We have both traveled on occasion, and when Jason is gone or I am gone, I have always taken care to be very faithful, obey all commands and to be an obedient slave wife.

When we are apart, Jason usually leaves me some instructions, or some tasks that are designed to keep my obedience and awareness of my owned status forefront in my mind. This has involved everything from wearing a chastity belt for which only he has the key, to following instructions to kneel and suck a molded rubber model of his dick for 20 minutes each night before going to bed.

This is something he's demanded of me a number of times when he is not present. It comforts him that I am obedient and servicing him even when he is not there. So he had a rubber mold of his genitals made, and made a special practice dildo with it. This way, even when he is not with me, I can such him off.

It's a little embarrassing, but it is also rather hot. Per his instructions, I strip naked, fix the practice dildo to a flat surface, kneel before it, and use my mouth and tongue and throat to pleasure it.  Afterward, he usually gives me permission to masturbate myself to orgasm (if I am not in chastity, of course).

During this last trip, his desire was that I give myself over to Erin, and treat her as my mistress and owner. This would include obeying any commands, including sexual relations or otherwise.

Erin is older than I by perhaps 15 years, but very fit and beautiful. I like and respect her, though we are not close friends. It is hard for a slave to be close friends with a mistress, even someone else's mistress. I won't say I looked forward to being owned by her for four days, but it did intrigue me. I've been dominated by many different people in my life, including women, and each has a very distinct flavor. Erin was going to have her own style, a very strict one, I knew.

My last night with Jason before his trip was marvelous. He handcuffed me after dinner and gave me a light spanking to remember him by, a nice one that made my ass just a little warm and sting, but he also fondled and caressed me in a way that made me feel so ... desirable. We then fucked and snuggled in bed. He is so great with aftercare.  My heart wells up with love when I think of him.

So in the morning he took me over to Erin's house down the street. He had a 10:00 flight, so we arrived at her house about 8, and she took me in.  Jason let her know that I had been briefed but that I was to obey her as if her orders came from Jason. I was hers for the next four days.


Wow, that right there was a rush. I was turned over. I was wearing a collar and leash, something that happens rarely in public but sometimes... and it was on for the ceremony of being transferred to Erin. She took my leash and led me inside and I felt a nervous flood of raw energy and sexual or erotic thrill.

I had no idea what Erin would do with me. Whatever it was, I was committed to allowing it, suffering it, obeying, whatever it took.

Erin kissed Jason on the cheek, then kissed me on the cheek, and said, "Welcome to your new home."

Jason gave me a hug and kiss, said goodbye, and I was in Erin's hand.

The first thing she did was secure my hands behind my back. Every bit of bondage this woman would put me in was exciting and arousing to me, and that small act made me wet, right there. I can't help it. It's the way I have been since I was ten years old, and it's become more intense over the years.

She gagged me as well, with a standard ball gag. I hate and love those. They are great because they hold the mouth open, allow you to bite down on something if you need to, and they make me drool like water faucet. I hate them because they hold my mouth open and make me drool like a faucet.

Erin led me inside the house and the door closed on my husband. I was now in the control of another woman. As we walked in, I saw Jim, Erin's husband, standing in the corner, facing the wall. I didn't know if this was something he was told to do when not otherwise engaged, like a storage position, or if he was being punished in some way.

Erin led me into a small room downstairs. It had probably originally been designed as an office, but it was reworked as a sort of discipline / dungeon, with whips, chains, bondage bracket and other equipment spread around.

"Strip and leave your clothes in that box. You won't need them. Make sure to fold them neatly."

I obeyed, but with a lot of difficulty. My hands were still cuffed behind my back. I managed to get my shoes, skirt and panties off, but my top was stuck. I mumbled through the gag, "I can't get my top off with my hands cuffed." (Ball gags don't actually stop you from talking, they just make it harder.)

Erin brought out a large pair of shears, and cut my top off. It was a good top, and made me sad to see it go. Why would she ruin a good top like that? I watched sadly as the shreds of my top fell to the ground.

By breasts flopped free and that was it. I was naked in front of Erin.

"You must learn to address me correctly. I am Mistress. You are not to speak unless spoken to, and you must always speak respectfully. You will be punished for this infraction."

I knew that. I mean, I should have known that, I have been a slave long enough I should have known to call her mistress and be more obsequious. It was a mistake I would pay for.

"Your first task is to wash the kitchen floor. Because you need to learn how to speak to me properly, you will not have your hands freed and must wash the floor to my satisfaction without them."

Oh great, I thought. How am I going to do this?

We went into the with me crawling on all fours, and Erin leading me by my leash.

"There you go. Clean."

She pointed.

There was no mop, no bucket, no... nothing.

"Please Mistress, may I have a sponge, or a bucket of water?" I said in ball-gag-speech.

"No. You will clean this now as I say. I am not giving you cleaning implements because you need discipline. You are to be punished. Start cleaning now."

I did. I got down on my knees and started licking.

Erin has a big kitchen and I had to cover every inch of it with my tongue. Half way through I politely asked for a drink of water, my tongue was dry and scratchy and tasted terrible. Erin was kind and gave me a drink, and I continued slowly licking my way across the floor, all the while my hands cuffed behind my back.

When I was done, Erin came in and examined the floor. I had actually tried to clean the damn thing with my tongue, which was now rather raw and dry, and tasted like the bottom of a bird cage.

"Acceptable. Come," Erin pulled me into the bathroom by my leash. "Now the toilet."

I looked up at Erin with big, surprised eyes. I had never done anything like this for Jason. We were truly licking into new territory.

"Don't give me those eyes. Do as your are told!" Erin snapped.  She personally supervised as I began licking the toiled seat.

Yep. I licked that entire thing. Starting with the seat, after which she flipped the seat up and I licked out the bowl. It was a relatively clean toilet, so it wasn't too bad. Still, I could really taste urine and some other musky tastes. It was awful. Truly awful.

All the while Erin watched me and at one point grabbed my hair, shoved my face down against the porcelain and demanded that I do a better job.

When I was done I was lead to the living room and told to wait. So I just sort of hung out there, waiting.

This really pissed off Erin. "What the fuck does Jason teach you over there! You don't know how to wait for a command in a waiting position?"

I didn't say anything, there wasn't anything I could say, really. Erin shoved me down on my knees, moving my arms and legs into a proper waiting position.

This turned out to be on my knees, hands folded on my lap, head slightly bowed, back straight.  Erin was very strict in terms of the position I should take, and my posture.

All this while her husband and slave Jim remained standing in the corner. I don't think he had budged in the two hours I had been in the house. He must be getting tired, but he didn't make a noise. Just stood facing the wall.

So I remained off to the side of the living room in the waiting position while Erin went off and did some things. I don't know what she did, I wasn't allowed to look at her, and most of the time I was alone in the room. Except for Jim that is, except he didn't count because he was standing there like he was in some sort of storage.

Eventually Erin left the house. I heard the garage door open and her car started up and left.  I was alone in her house with her husband Jim, who was still standing in the corner.

Since she wasn't around, I decided to talk to Jim.

"Are you in some sort of punishment?"

Jim didn't answer.

"She isn't here, you can at least talk to me," I said to him. He was standing right there, perhaps 10 feet away. I was kneeling on the floor in my submissive posture, but had raised my head to look at him.

"She... I'm not supposed to talk." Jim whispered.

"I see," I said. He had been trained exceptionally well, all the way to performing detailed rituals even when there was no possibility of being discovered if he failed to strictly follow the rules.

I for one was not restrained, and could have gotten up and walked around had I wished to. But something about the way Jim stood in the corner, not moving, and the pristine, spotless house, and Erin's no-compromise attitude... it made me stay in place.

Jim must have been standing in the corner for four hours or more by the time Erin came back. I sneaked looks at him, and it was clear his legs were shaking, threatening to give out. But he kept standing there, motionless.

When Erin came back, she brought in some packages and put them upstairs someplace, except for one she brought in to the living room and set down.

Erin came over and told Jim to assume the waiting position. I could hear him breathe a sigh of relief as he turned around and knelt in the same position as mine.

"It's time for you to learn the proper regimen of positions and slave commands. Jason has very clearly not been training you properly," said Erin.

I had learned the waiting position. I was then taught a variation of the waiting position Erin called "present".

When she barked "present", I went down on my knees, this time spread at a 45 degree angle, with my hands palms up on my thighs. Face down, of course, showing subservience.

Erin used a riding crop on my bare flesh, swatting me hard when my position did not please her. Sitting with my back perfectly straight got me a number of stinging swats which must have left pretty nasty red welts. I needed to learn to sit absolutely straight.

The position of my head was important, as well. I could not bend my head too low because my face was to be visible. But my eyes had to be downcast, so as to show subservience and obedience.

There were several variations of this position, and the details had to be just right. Palms up, or hands folded together, the angle of my legs sufficient to show my genitals clearly, feet touching at the toes in back, and so on. Erin even worked on the expression on my face, which was to be blank, not angry or upset, not happy, just... open and ready and willing. She slapped me a couple of times, hard, for not having the proper expression.

Then there was "Worship". On my knees, bent over all the way with my forehead on the ground. Arms up over my head on the ground, hands flat with fingers slightly spread.  Erin stepped on my hand more than once when my hands were too far apart, or the fingers were not spread properly.

She checked my ass during the process too, and told me I had not kept it clean enough and would require some work later. This sent a chill through me.

The Worship position also had some strict requirements for where the legs were to be positioned and how the feet were to be placed.

We spent the entire day working on positions.

There was the position she called "Corner", which was what Jim had been in when I arrived. I was standing facing the corner, straight back, kneels locked, head up, staring directly into the corner. Arms were to be raised and hands placed on opposite shoulders.

 We practiced that one for an hour. I don't know how Jim held it for four, I would have collapsed.

Then there was the "Ready" position. Also on the knees, but raised up to my ass wasn't sitting on my feet. Hands were placed behind the back, head up and looking straight ahead so I could see whatever instructions were being given. Knees were supposed to be apart, directly under the shoulders. The insides of my thighs were red and stinging from the riding crop as Erin taught me this position.

The "Ready" position was used when commands were being given that required attention and action.

The "Privacy" position I considered something of a punishment position. It wasn't as bad as some punishment positions I learned the next day, but it wasn't pleasant. This one simply involved being up in my knees, facing the wall. My knees had to be within one inch of the wall, but no part of my body, including my head, could touch the wall.  My ass could not touch my legs or feet, which meant I had to be up instead of a sitting position.

You have no idea how quickly this position could become painful.

Then there was the inspection position. Standing, legs spread, hands behind head. All part of the body exposed and available for prodding, poking, spreading insertion, spanking, whipping, whatever it was she had in mind.

The punishment version of this position was up on my toes... for as long as she wanted.

How long can you stand on your toes? Try it some time. It absolutely kills some of the calf muscles, and cramps set in very quickly. When I didn't stay up long enough, she tool a short paddle to me, and made my ass flaming red. It felt like it was on fire, too.

That evening, late, my body was exhausted, red and burning from spankings and crop whippings, and my muscles cramped from holding positions for long periods at a time. The sun had done down and it was time for dinner.

Both Jim and I ate out of dog bowls. We shared the same bowl, and there was actually a fight between us as to who would get more of the food. I was starved but Jim was pushing in, trying to get to the food first.

The little bastard.

The fight got us in trouble, and we paid for it.

Erin broke us up but we each got a caning.

Jim went first and I was made to watch. I knelt in the Ready position and watched as she gave him 12 strokes with a relatively small and supple cane. He groaned with each strike, and by the end he was almost screaming. I thought he was faking it, making it seem more painful than it was, except his ass was getting pretty big welts.

It came to be my turn, and Erin had get on hands and knees while Jim watched. It was embarrassing to be kneeling there so Jim could see every bit of my privates, my pussy lips hanging down, ass cheeks spread. The embarrassment went away with the first strike and was replaced with the unexpected nasty sting of the cane making me yelp.

I barely had time to recover before Erin was laying it on, strike after strike. My ass was on fire, and I couldn't help but try to wriggle away. She waited patiently until I got back into position, and then continued. I started screaming. Rather than wake the neighbors, Erin kindly provided a rather large panel gag that allowed me to make all the noise I wanted, and it would be effectively muffled.

A dozen strokes was horrible. By the last stroke I was crying, tears streaming down my face.

Time to recover. Erin isn't good at aftercare. Jason would have cuddled me, made me feel precious and appreciated for having endured the punishment. As it was, I was left in the punishment position with my ass burning while Erin got ready for bed.

Erin released Jim from strict control and he was allowed to roam the house and do as he pleased. He had a beer, watched some TV with his wife, though he was still naked. I knelt in the punishment position, waiting for a new command.

Bedtime in her household was 10pm. A strict rule. Erin brought me upstairs to her bedroom with Jim. Secretly I was hoping I would be able to sleep in a bed. There was no way I would ask... but I hoped.

No way.  A sleep sack on the floor. I had never actually seen one before, though I knew what they were. Sort of the ultimate in bondage. They cover your body tightly from neck to toes, cinched up and with no room to move. I imagine it must be very much like vacuum bondage (another thing I have never experienced).

As much as I love bondage and being restricted and helpless, I think I have a love hate relationship with the sleep sack. Thank goodness my head was free so I wasn't completely mummified, and I didn't panic. I could breathe. I just couldn't move.

Erin made sure I went to the restroom and peed. In fact she stood and watched as I did it. She informed me there would be no more bathroom privilege until the next morning. Once in the sack, there was no out.

It took almost 15 minutes to lace me up completely. When it was done, I was in tight. I could not move at all.

Erin took her husband into her bed, and I lay on the floor next to them. They had sex before they went to sleep, loud, grunting, sweaty sex and that sounded amazing. I just lay in the dark and listened. When they went to sleep, I tried to as well, but the constricted bondage was difficult. I think it took me two hours before I could sleep.

I woke up at 4am needing to pee. I managed to get back to sleep, but woke at 5am, urgently needing to pee. I knew there was no going. No bathroom privilege, and waking Erin up was out of the question.

Just when my bladder started hurting so badly I was seriously thinking of either releasing it inside my sleep sack and taking the consequences, or of waking Erin up (and taking the consequences), the alarm went off and Erin rose. Jim followed. I lay on the floor looking at them pitifully, but they both went into the bathroom and peed first.

"Well, slave, how was your night?" Erin asked once she had brushed her teeth. She was standing over me naked (she has a knockout, skinny body).

"Mistress, I need to pee badly, please Mistress," I said.

"I'll bet you do," she said and began loosening the laces. It took 10 minutes to undo the laces and the pain in my bladder made me afraid I was going to get an infection... or burst. But I made it to the toilet, and Erin watched me go once again. I had zero privacy in her house.

"Mistress, may I get ready to go to work?" I asked politely. She and her husband were already getting dressed.

"Yes, you may. Once dressed, you may go to work. However, you must wear a little reminder of your subservience to me."

She produced a pair of small nipple clamps. They were ones that lay relatively flat against my boob, but could be screwed tightly shut. She screwed them down quite hard, enough so I gasped from the pain.

"There. Those should stay on. If for any reason they dislodge during the day, you are to put them back on immediately. Is this understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"Be home here by 6:00 PM. No excuses," she said. Erin and her husband left the house for their work, and I was alone.

The nipple clamps hurt, but as time goes on, the pain of clamps tends to fade. Usually it is replaced by a dull ache until they are removed. I chose a loose blouse that would hide the accessories relatively well, got dressed, and went to work.

I lead a bit of a double life. When at work, I am a director of IT for a mid-sized company, professional, a leader, I get stuff done. I'm in command. That day I sat at my desk and remembered the previous night when a naked me, and a naked man, had been fighting over a dog dish of food. I wondered what my secretary would have thought had she known.

The clamps hurt a little bit during the day, and they did serve as a reminder of just what I would be returning to at the end of the day.

That evening I headed back, leaving at 5:30, which was plenty of time to get home. In regular traffic. Unfortunately, there was an accident. I was panicked, pounding the horn, trying to find an alternate route. It helped, but not enough. I got back at 6:05. Five minutes late.

I rushed in, hoping I was there before Erin. Nope.

She greeted me, told me to undress, which I did. I stood naked and at attention in the living room while she and Jim talked of their day and made dinner. Erin's husband is her slave, but much of the time they just interact as a regular husband and wife. When she is in a good mood, I guess.

Me? I was shit in their house. Untrained, unsatisfactory, crude, disobedient. I was so embarrassed.

Erin and her male slave ate at the dining table that night. I was collared and led around like a dog, and forced to eat their scraps from the dog dish. I lapped water from another dog dish. There wasn't enough food, I knew I would be hungry later, but I dared not ask for me.

When dinner was over, I received my punishment for being late. It was simple.

I was taken outside to their back yard, and told to stand at attention, There was no collar, no chain, nothing to hold me there. Obedience was expected.

They left me there, and went inside. I continued to stand where they left me, the entire evening. There was no clock to tell me how long I had been there, nothing to see except the flickering light of the TV inside their house, shining on the shades.

I think I cried again. I enjoy bondage at some level; the sleep sack, while hellish to endure for 10 hours, was still somehow core to my internal needs. It fed my desire for being restricted and bound, dominated.

This was simple isolation. I was miserable. Standing alone, naked, in the gradually cooling night, beginning to shiver, not being able to move.

I dared not move. I stood perfectly still. For hours.

Late that night Erin came outside, attached the leash and collar and brought me back inside.

"I think you will try a little harder to obey, and be home when you are told," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," I said as I collapsed on the floor in the worship position.

That night I slept on the floor. Not in the sleep sack, thank goodness. It was significantly more comfortable than the sleep sack. I was chained, but able to move about freely within a certain space, and I even masturbated twice during the night. I was as quiet as possible, and did not believe Erin heard me.

It was actually a pretty good night's sleep. I found myself missing Jason though, which is probably what led to the masturbation.

I was half way through my stay at Erin's home, and so far it had been a mix of ecstasy and sheer torture (which is to say, ecstasy).