Self Discovery

I have been asked numerous times how I became involved in bondage, pain, and eventually into a submissive relationship that is entirely and completely fulfilling. So, here are some of my memories and recollections. Ultimately, there is no reason why. There is no triggering event, no special perversion caused by an abusive parent. There was simply a growing and passionate desire for certain things.

My earliest memory of bondage was when I was still pretty young; before I started dating any boys. I was a virgin, and while kissing behind the gym was an interesting new activity I was far from being sexually active. Yes, I had matured well, had breasts and an overall womanly shape with long dark hair, and was even considered a bit of a slut by kids in school (they were jealous, mostly).  Let me also be clear. At this point in my life I didn't even know that bondage and SM existed as a fetish. I had seen no pictures, read no stories, never talked of it, and was unaware that it was a sensual activity engaged in by anyone.

My family lived in a decent lower middle class house with a two car garage. We only had one car, so the other half of the garage was dedicated to a lot of the usual junk. It was there that one day I found some rope. A long, soft length of rope. I had entered using the back door from the back yard, and the main front door that tipped up for cars was down, and it was dark and quiet. A single light bulb from the back lit the unfinished interior.

I remember sitting on the floor in my jeans and playing with knots. In order to get a good position for the rope I wrapped it around my ankles and then practiced tying various knots. Wriggling to get out, I found it rather easy to loosen the knot or stretch the rope and get free. So, I wrapped the rope tighter around my ankles a few more times, providing a sturdier based and tried a different knot technique (I was completely naive to knots and was making things up as I went along).

There came a point when I had the rope around my ankles and knees, with a tie at the ankles and was working on the knot at the knees when the most horrible of noises came -- the front garage door had its bolt slid out and moments later the springs creaked as it slowly lifted up. I was sitting on the floor half tied and desperately trying to undo the knots as the door rose and my older brother walked in. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and the rope was rapidly removed.

"Whatcha doin?" My brother looked at me with idle interest. He didn't really care what his younger sister was doing that much.

"Uh, I was just bored. Wanted to see if I could tie some knots. What are you doing here, perv?" And that was that. I forget what happened after that, but whatever it was, was unremarkable and passed quickly.

What stayed with me was the feeling I had while my legs had been tied up like that. There was this desire to see if I could really tie myself up and truly restrict myself. The desire wasn't pure, either, it was something dark that I knew wasn't going to be accepted or condoned and was humiliated when it was discovered. I knew that the sensation I had as I felt my legs bound and restricted was exciting to me in a very new way. What was more strange was how excited I felt being discovered; the humiliation that I had experienced when my brother walked in was like a huge adrenalin rush and stuck with me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but it was a sexual rush.

Being discovered playing with the rope was a huge rush and made the whole experience exciting. I wasn't stupid though, and I knew that if I was to try to do this again and was discovered again, it might result in interference. Like, my parents being told, and maybe being sent to a councilor or punished or yelled at. So, I was more careful the next time. This meant waiting until there was no one to interrupt me, which took a while. It eventually came when my parents were visiting my grandparents for the afternoon, and my brother had gone off to be in some music thing he had. I was alone for several hours.

It never struck me as strange at the time, and maybe doesn't even strike me as strange now given my life style, but I had been waiting weeks for the opportunity to try self bondage again. During these weeks I had thought of various reasons why I had found the tie easy to get out of, and how to improve it. I also imagined how it could be extended. The idea of both my legs and arms being restrained appealed to me, excited me, and was part of my agenda that afternoon.

I locked the doors to the garage this time; it would be easier to explain why I was in there with doors locked than why I was trussed up like a chicken, should someone come home early. Sitting on the floor with the rope, I began.

Looping the rope and then wrapping it around my ankles and then threading back through the rope a couple of times created a very tight tie with 8 loops of rope around my ankles. I wriggled, found it getting loose and tightened it until it hurt a bit. The pain felt satisfying, because I knew the rope was tight enough it wouldn't come off. I didn't realize it but the pain also gave me a shot of adrenalin and enhanced the experience; pain was accepted then and continued to be accepted as part of the bondage experience for me ever since.

Stretching the two strands of rope up and then around my knees I performed the same looping, threading and tightening. I tied it off and sat there for a bit, concentrating on the helpless feeling in my legs. It was satisfying. It felt good, in the oddest way I couldn't explain.

It wasn't enough though. I needed more. My legs were immobile (I rolled around on the floor a bit to see just how immobile), but the rest of my body was free and I could feel how that diminished the entire experience. Something was wrong. I needed to tie my wrists.

Sitting on the floor, my legs bent at the knees so I sat slightly crooked, I tied my wrists in front of me. That was tough. Really, tough. You need at least one free hand to tie a knot. I managed to wrap rope around my wrists and pull it tight, but a knot was impossible. I simply wrapped the rope around about 10 times and threaded it through as much as I could, and decided that was enough.

Sitting with my legs tied was uncomfortable so I lay down. My hands tied helped, and the experience was getting closer to what I knew I desired deep down-- being bound and helpless. Still, it wasn't there. I sat up and attempted to retie my hands behind my back. This was better-- the feeling of helplessness was stronger, and I was getting aroused. This was the first time I realized that being bound and helpless was sexually arousing to me; it didn't seem odd because I was still discovering my sexuality and everything seemed new and exciting.

I lay down on the floor for a while, feeling the experience of being pseudo-restrained. My legs were secure, but my wrists were an illusion. I could live with that for a while, but the experience wasn't complete.

All in all, I spent about 2 hours in the garage, trying to get the ropes tighter, the knots more secure, actually trying to get a good knot in my wrists so I couldn't just wriggle out. The whole experience was incredibly exciting, arousing, and tantalizing to me.

While I was tied, I actually spent some time getting the handle of a broom between my legs (I was still wearing jeans) and getting it to rub. Once I got it between my legs and extending through and pressing against my crotch, my hands (tied behind) grabbed it and managed to move it back and forth a little. The whole experiment was turning more and more into a sexual exploration.

Realizing I didn't know how much time had passed and I needed to stop, I wriggled free of the rope around my wrists, and undid the rope around my legs. The clock inside the house indicated I probably had an hour to spare but it was a good, safe time to stop. One thing was crystal clear from this experience: I was excited by being restrained, and wanted to try it again. A lot. It was also clear that it was a sexual thing and that I would spend more thought into how I could incorporate this into my next play session.

And it was absolutely for certain that I would play again.

House Party

Life was difficult for me after returning from the pony farm. The intense training there had left its mark and I discovered a number of things.

First of all, I had been naked for more than two weeks. Wearing clothes felt raspy and unnatural for a while. I sat in my office and in meetings adjusting my tight clothing, feeling confined and uncomfortable. I could tell that other workers noticed me and wondered but it was not to be helped. Some of the guys appeared to look at me with new interest as I wriggled in my clothing.

My body had become thinner, harder, and more muscular during the hard work as a pony girl. I liked that, and enjoyed the way people looked at me, especially Jason, who appreciated me and insisted that I be naked virtually all the time at home.

I quickly picked up the habit of urinating and defecating in a toilet again; the use of my straw covered stall for these activities faded. I never quite looked at a toilet the same, though, and had to fight urges to just let go and pee in the middle of meetings for a few weeks.

Lastly, I found it easier to be obedient to Jason. The lessons and training I had as a pony girl stuck with me, and the absolute obedience came more naturally. I knelt before him in the submissive posture without even a tiny bit of hesitation, and worked hard to assure that his every command was followed.

Of all the things I missed from the pony farm, I missed  Kerry. My relationship with her had gone deep to my heart, though I had spoken only a few words with her. I felt like we were meant to be together. She was my match, and I wanted to be with her again as a partner in work and in sex. Prior to being a pony and working with her I had never really understand what a lesbian relationship was about, and now I realized that a solid emotional and physical connection bound the two of us.

Two weeks after returning, Jason called me over and had me kneel in front of him as he sat on the couch. I was naked, as I was virtually all the time while inside the house, and a leash was attached to my permanent slave collar.

"My dearest Siobhan, we have been invited to Steve and Diane's across the street for a house party tomorrow evening. It promises to be quite enjoyable."

I raised my head and looked at Jason, "Yes, I like Steve and Diane very much. I would like to visit. Should I prepare something to take?"

"I think a bottle of wine should be all. Diane will prepare the dinner; she and Steve have been experimenting with the alternative life style and she is ready to begin a role as a more constant submissive. I think they have switched a bit, but it is working out better this way. In any case, it should be interesting. Steve and I may have some fun with you and Diane."

A small chill of anticipation tainted by a bit of dread ran through my stomach. "Jason, you will watch out for me, won't you? I mean, I trust you, but we haven't played with them before and I am not sure... I am a little cautious."

"Siobhan, as always, I love and protect you. However, remember your place," Jason took on a stern tone. "I own you. You are my property and I expect you to obey absolutely. How I treat you and what I allow is up to me and is not to be questioned by you."

"Of course, Jason. I am sorry for my hesitation." I lowered my eyes and bowed my head. Jason caressed my breasts for a moment and then gently pulled my left nipple out, stretching and elongating it; he then placed a clamp on the distended flesh and I gasped slightly from the initial pain. He repeated the action with my right nipple, and I knelt motionless on the floor before him as the pain slowly subsided into an ache.

He lifted my face up and leaned down to kiss me. His kisses always gave me delight and made me feel wonderful. More and more recently, he had only shown affection or had intimate relations with me when I was bound or in some sort of discomfort or pain; as a result I had found myself desiring pain more and more. I wanted his approval and attention desperately, and if pain was required for him to show it then I desired the pain.

----

The evening of the house party as Steve and Diane's arrived, and I prepared myself. I wore a sheer black dress that came to mid-thigh, a bra and panties. My shoes were leather flats, nice but not too fancy. I felt good about myself and the way I looked. The dress showed off my body. Jason would be proud to be seen with me and that pleased me immensely.

We walked across the street together and Jason knocked on our neighbor's door. Diane answered the door and I was immediately taken aback with surprise. She was wearing nothing but a leather harness which wrapped around her breasts, hips and between her legs. Diane has a very curvy figure, and the leather straps brought out her innate sensuality. I stared for a bit. I had never seen her naked before, in spite of the fact that I had pleasured her between her legs with my tongue (she had simply hiked her skirt up for that event).

Diane was blushing and kept her eyes down to the ground as she admitted Jason and I. Steve came over and greeted Jason. Diane closed the door and stood staring at the ground, obviously uncomfortable. She was holding her hands and arms in those awkward positions when you want to cover yourself but realize it is impossible, that complete nudity can't be covered with two hands. I felt a pang of sympathy for her and wriggled close, taking and squeezing her hand. "You look lovely, you don't need to feel embarrassed in front of me," I whispered to her. She looked up at me gratefully.

"Siobhan, why don't you go help Diane in the kitchen?" Jason suggested in a voice which wasn't really a suggestion. I nodded and the two of us headed off to the kitchen to finish preparing and serving dinner.

"Oh, Siobhan, I am so glad to see you. You have made me feel better. This is so new to me, being subservient to Steve!" Diane immediately started talking as we reached the kitchen and began placing food into serving dishes.

"Diane, it's quite all right. If you had seen me a week ago, you would not be embarrassed at all. A week ago I was wearing a leather halter, a bit in my mouth, tail coming out of my ass, peeing on the ground, and pulling wagons of chopped wood."

"Oh, you must tell me all about it! Did you really do all that?" Diane turned to face me, looking at me with wonder. I proceeded to tell her all the details of my time as a real, working pony girl. By the time we were done serving dinner to the table, Diane had lost much of her shyness, though when the men came to the table and we all sat down, she once again cast her eyes down and stopped talking.

Steve is an extremely mild mannered man of about 40, tall, thin and dark. Diane is a smiling, happy woman of about 32, only a few years older than I. I have always felt some attraction to both of them, Steve being a little older but still very handsome and fit. Diane has large breasts and long hair, an hourglass figure and strong legs. Seeing her naked as we ate, I had trouble paying attention to Jason, as my eyes kept wandering over to view Diane's amazing body.

When dinner was over, Jason turned to me and said casually, "My dear, I don't think it is fair for Diane to be naked this whole time while we are all clothed. Why don't you undress for us?"

After nearly three weeks at the human pony farm, being naked wasn't troublesome for me. I pulled my dress off, then removed my bra and panties. In moments I stood before Jason, completely naked except for my wedding ring, ear studs, and slave collar. Steve whistled in appreciation, making me blush with pleasure. I was proud to be Jason's and for others to appreciate what he owned.

Steve came over and began to examine my body in some detail. After asking permission from Jason, he touched my flesh, sliding along my ass, spreading my ass cheeks to examine between and below them. At his direction I bent over and spread my legs, and Steve examined my pussy (which was moist from the attention). It felt awkward being examined like this by my neighbor, but Jason had ordered it and I obeyed.

When Steve was done, Jason made a suggestion. "Siobhan, I couldn't help but notice that you have been somewhat smitten by our beautiful Diane. You could hardly take your eyes off her during dinner! I think I would like to see you kiss her."

My eyes must have grown at the suggestion as both men laughed at my reaction. I turned and looked at Diane, who had her eyes cast down once again in a posture of submissive shyness. I stepped over to her and lifted her face to mine (I am slightly taller), and gently kissed her lips, slowly and gently but becoming more urgent and passionate. I was trying to let her know it was OK and that she and I were in this together and could actually enjoy it if she was willing. Our naked breasts touched, my nipples immediately became hard and I could feel her sigh, slightly.

"Diane! Show Siobhan the gift I gave you today!" Steve seemed rather excited. Diane blushed deep and left the room for a moment. I stood naked, as both men sat and observed me, sipping drinks and talking about some of the marks left on my skin from my experiences as a pony girl. When Diane returned, she had a fairly large dildo in her hand; it was the kind that was made to look, and more specifically to feel, real.

"Show Siobhan how it is used, Diane." Steve calmly ordered. Diane turned bright red and stuttered out a slight protest, "Steve... I am not sure I can do that, now, here--"

Steve interrupted her, "Diane. Don't embarrass me and yourself with disobedience in front of our neighbors. There. On the chair. Now."

Diane moved slowly to a large chair. She sat down and leaned back, spreading her legs wide and over the arms of the chair, exposing herself to all of us. She was shaved nicely, and a slight glistening around her pussy lips showed that she had become aroused. She closed her eyes as if to block out her surroundings and took the large phallus and began working it between the soft lips between her thighs. She slid the dildo up and down at first, slowly relaxing and working between and then into her pussy. The deeper it went, the more obviously wet she became, and it wasn't long before she was sliding it rhythmically in and out, a slight movement of her hips accompanying the thrusts inside.

We watched her, the two men sitting on the couch and I standing in the middle of the living room. She continued, showing her masturbation technique as she became more and more aroused. Her breathing became faster, nipples hardened and all at once she arched her back and neck, a soft mewling noise coming from her wide open mouth. She thrust the dildo in a few more times, and finally slowed and removed the phallus. Her eyes opened and she seemed to realize where she was and suddenly flushed bright red and hung her head.

"Very good, Steve, your wife seems to be doing well!" Jason exclaimed at the show Diane had just completed. I was standing obediently to the side, watching and appreciating the show. Diane looked at me quickly from the corner of her eyes as if my presence embarrassed her most of all. Then men continued to discuss some of the details of Diane's activity.

"Steve, I think it is unfair to have Diane pleasure herself without also giving Siobhan the opportunity." Jason suggested. "I think we need to have her give us the same show, don't you think?"

"Yes, Jason, but if you might let me suggest something; we have a little additional paraphernalia that might be of interest. Diane, will you go get the belt?" Steve's quiet voice instructed Diane, who opened her mouth as if to protest for a moment and then shut it, bowed her head and then left the room.

"Siobhan, will you stand before us please?" Steve instructed. As Jason did not contradict him, I moved to the center of the room, facing them. I had long since learned to stand naked and on display before men without trying to hide any part of my body.

Diane returned almost immediate and when I saw what she had in her hands, I realized what was in store. The dildo had been placed in a strap on harness. The harness was rather ineptly strapped around Diane's waist and the phallus extended out from her groin, drooping a little.

"Oh, how delightful Steve! This is perfect, I must say! Yes, yes... Siobhan, get on all fours before us, and spread your legs!" Jason was excited and quickly ordered me to prepare to be fucked.

"Sir, may I suggest adjusting her strap on? I think it will help some." I moved to Diane, who had obviously never worn a device like this, and proceeded to adjust the straps around her hips and thighs. They needed to be placed higher, and made tighter so that Diane's hip movement would be translated into confident dildo thrusts. Unlike Diane, I did have some experience with the device.

When I was done, I obeyed my husband and knelt before the men, then lowered myself so that I was on hands and knees, my legs spread slightly so that my pussy was well exposed. Diane knelt behind me and cautiously, ever so cautiously placed the tip of the dildo against my lips. I could tell she was afraid of hurting me, and was being very careful. I urged her on by slowly pressing back against the rubber dong, adding pressure which enabled it to penetrate me deeply. I grunted slightly and Diane immediately withdrew most of the way.

The men sat on the sofa, observing all of this with great delight. My breasts hung down and while they aren't nearly as large as Diane's, they still wobbled a bit as Diane began regular thrusts. The dildo was a good one, made with natural feeling material with a roughness that made it nicely stimulating. I moved my body together with Diane's thrusts, enjoying the experience. I even enjoyed being observed by the two men, showing off my body in this activity.

My breathing was come quicker, and I had closed my eyes for a moment when I felt something against my face and lips. I opened my eyes and saw that Jason had slipped his pants down around his ankles and exposed his rock hard cock. He was pressing it toward my mouth. I opened wide and it slipped inside just as Diane thrust in, pushing me forward. His member slid deep within my mouth and down my throat a bit before I was prepared and I gagged. Jason pushed deeper, placing one hand behind my head to press it forward against him. His cock sank deeper, until it was well down my throat past my uvula. I continued to gag, my eyes watering and stomach contracting as if I would vomit at any moment.

Fortunately, Jason withdrew most of the way before I actually choked and puked; Diane continued thrusting from behind and Jason started thrusting in the same rhythm. The back and forth movement between the two phallus's gave me the most kinky, decadent feeling of being filled completely and I felt arousal climbing quickly. I forgot where I was and began to feel only what was happening to me.

During this time, I periodically struggled to keep from gagging and puking. Jason's thrusts were deep, and at time he lingered inside my throat, triggering my gag reflex. He always withdrew in time, but not before I was gasping for air. Diane had leaned over my backside, her breasts brushing my lower back as she got the feel of the strap on motion and thrusts. Her arms were around my hips, hands and fingers reaching around and probing, stimulating my clit directly. The whole experience was mind blowing as I struggled to maintain and let the pleasure take me over the top.

After a a few minutes of this thrusting and gagging, pleasure and gasping, I felt Jason's cock grown especially hard and his hips thrust forward and strained against my face. Both his hands pressed the back of my head hard, and my tongue felt sudden paroxysms in his cock as he spurt semen deep down inside my throat. Swallowing it wasn't an option; he was so far down the viscous liquid was dumped into my throat and went down.

The feeling of Jason coming in my throat tipped me over the edge and with some frantic finger massaging from Diane behind me, I climaxed loudly. I could feel my whole body flush, nipples hardened, as I came just as Jason withdrew from my mouth. My arms gave way beneath me and my head and shoulders collapsed on the floor as I grunted and gasped from my orgasm.

Thankfully, Diane withdrew when my climax began to fade. I let my hips slide down to the floor and I lay exhausted, flat on the carpet, panting. It was an amazing experience, made more amazing because I had been penetrated by Diane, a woman that I had wanted sexually for some time now, at the same time as my husband and master.

When I recovered, I saw that both men had removed their pants. I think Steve had been so aroused by my double penetration that he had removed his in order to stroke his cock; Jason of course had removed his when he came to fuck my mouth. Steve's cock was standing up hard and erect.

The men were working on Diane, tying her up. Jason was showing Steve how to double and quadruple a rope tie around the ankles to make it as secure as possible without cutting skin or cutting off circulation. I rose to a kneeling position and observed as they secured Diane's ankles. She was obediently laying on the carpet on her stomach. Once her ankles were tied, they pulled her arms behind her back and secured them together with several loops of rope. This rope was then pulled up and over her shoulders, forcing her arms and hands up to a higher position on her back and away from her nicely rounded ass.

Jason was instructing Steve on basic rope technique while placing Diane in a hog tie. The only part left was to bend the legs and secure the ankles to Diane's head, which was done with a double length of rope through her ankle ties, followed by loops around her neck. I was proud of Jason as he illustrated how to tie the rope around Diane's neck securely, but without posing an immediate threat of choking. I had been in this position many times with him, and as long as you didn't pull too hard and try to unbend, it was bearable and there was no problem breathing.

Steve pulled the whole rigging tight, and Diane grunted some as her back bent. This was new to her, I could tell. She had never been in a hogtie of any kind, and I knew the semi-panic she was probably feeling. Her head was raised up off the floor to relieve pressure on her neck, and she stayed very still to prevent any further pain.

The men admired their handiwork for a few minutes as Diane simply stayed in position, unable to move without causing discomfort. I could tell she was humiliated but also aroused by her new situation. I wanted badly to go over and kiss her, stroke her hair, make her feel OK; this would not be acceptable and I did not in order to keep Jason from punishing me later.

Finally, Steve knelt before Diane, and with one smooth motion, inserted his cock into her mouth. She sucked him in obediently, and Jason and I watched as he mouth fucked his wife before us as Jason has just done with me. Diane was clearly in a combination of pain, obedience, acceptance, and excitement as she brought Steve to an orgasm remarkably quickly. He came on her face, spurting white, sticky fluid over her forehead, eyes and cheeks.

When it was over Steve sighed and remarked just how much he had enjoyed the evening. The two men rose, dressed themselves and went in the other room to fix drinks. Diane remained in her hogtie with semen drying on her face, and I remained kneeling where I was.

Diane suffered for about a half an hour. Hogties can start out uncomfortable, and with time they can become agonizing. Diane had started whimpering, and tried whispering to me.

"How long will he leave me like this? It hurts!"

"I don't know, Diane, but it isn't our role to question. Don't worry, you are getting used to this and will be fine. The more you endure the prouder you will be. Trust me." I tried to encourage her in whispers as we waited.

The men finally returned. Diane's hogtie was undone though her wrists and ankles remained bound. The relief in her face was obvious. Steve bent down and kissed her face (now crusty with his dried sperm) and told him he was proud of her progress tonight. He was so kind about it, and I saw how she suddenly acquired a proud look. She smiled and relaxed, laying on the floor happily.

"Siobhan, it is time to go. Put on your dress." Jason was a little drunk, which made him a little more blunt in his commands to me. I quickly put on my dress, leaving off my panties and bra. "That's my little slave. Let's head home."

Steve and Jason shook hands at the door, and I saw Diane still tied on the floor well behind him, as we left. We walked across the street to our own housed. When inside, I immediately removed my clothes as was Jason's rule.

"So, Siobhan. What do you think of our sweet Diane? Will she turn out to be as good a slave slut as you?" Jason was drunk.

I lowered my head and said, "Thank you sir, for recognizing my talent as your slave. I hope Diane will make Steve proud."

"Always the tactful one, eh, Siobhan? Go upstairs, spread out on the bed and wait for me there."

I did as instructed, ready to serve my husband and master in any way he wished.

Erotic Pain

I am not an expert. I don't really understand why some people (including myself) find bondage and related pain to be an erotic, stimulating and desirable sensation.

Pain is the body's way of recognizing that damage is being done, or could potentially be done. It prompts action to avoid the pain, presumably removing the body from further damage. So why do some (including myself) seek it out?

I remember being fascinated with bondage when I was quite young. I knew nothing about it. I had never seen pictures, or heard comments. But I do remember being in my parent's garage at the age of 13, and taking down some rope and tying myself up. It was the oddest sensation, to do this and enjoy it.

The first time I engaged in real bondage as a sex act, I was 15. I actually suggested that my boyfriend use some rope to tie me up. He got some twine from the garage, and he tied me to the bed, using the twine to spread my arms and legs wide, over the side of the bed. In spite of the fact I quickly learned that twine is very rough and cuts in to the skin, it was an explosively erotic experience. At my urging, my boyfriend continued to help me experiment with techniques, some disastrous, and others marvelous.

Not all men are interested in dominating a woman. This seems like a complete oxymoron, but it is true. I found myself seeking boyfriends willing to tie me up. This proved difficult, as almost any guy thought he would enjoy tying a pretty girl up, and certainly was willing to try to get a chance at me. All too often, they were unable to take on the top role, and I ended up dumping some very nice guys.

When I was 18 and 19, I did some modeling, which included some fetish modeling. This introduced me to a whole new area of bondage; being introduced to real equipment, solid techniques, made me realize how far I had yet to go. I found myself growing excited that there was so much more to experiment with, new sensations and scenes to play with.

I have been very lucky to have a husband that has been willing and able to take me further. During this time, bondage has given way to experimenting with pain, a natural progression. Bondage is inherently uncomfortable. It is a very small step to the introduction of pain which excites me and makes me feel alive in a way I have never before experienced.
....
I have begun to desire pain in the same way I desire to be bound. It is an intense physical reminder of the loss of control, powerlessness, humiliation and subjugation. There is nothing which enforces the sense of helplessness than expressing pain by crying out, and having your cries ignored. Or worse, having your mouth gagged to suppress your cries, further removing control. Within the context of sexual arousal, I have found that my pain thresholds are increased. Pain becomes a part of the erotic situation. It causes, and becomes part of the arousal. I seek pain in the same way, and with the same passion, as I do sexual stimulation.

I seek out pain and humiliation now, and it has become an important part of my relationship; being a slave has freed me in ways that truly excite and satisfy me.

I still enjoy and prefer sex, simple, lustful sex with my partner. But life is all about variety, isn't it?

Pony Training

Coming home from work had taken on an almost ritualistic pattern for me. I parked my Lexus in the drive and entered the house to automatically shed the trappings of my day time life and work. Heading upstairs, I removed all my clothes, for I was generally forbidden to wear anything when at home. Nakedness and exposure was expected at all times, except for rared occasions.

Next I removed my makeup and simple jewelry, except for my collar of course. My collar is a thin but very strong circular band of platinum which can not be removed without some rather heavy tools. I wear it as a symbol of my marital and slave state instead of a wedding ring. It looks like a nice piece of jewelry, and I frequently wear a small diamond or sapphire pendant from it.

After peeling off the symbols of my employment during the day, I went downstairs and began cooking dinner. We expected company that evening, and I was fixing a special meal; home made lasagna, salad, and garlic bread. As the lasagna baked, I began to clean the house in preparation for Jason's arrival later.

At 6:30, Jason arrived home, and I could feel the slight twinge of excitement I still feel whenever I am in his presence. Jason is my master, my owner, my husband, and my life. I am dedicated to him and his pleasure, in all ways. I work at my job to earn money for him, to please him that I am productive. When at home, I am his plaything, subject to all his whims and desires. My body and mind are his, at all times.

I went up to him and kissed him on his cheek. His rough hands caressed my naked flesh and pulled me to him. Resting my head on his shoulder, I sighed in contentment, but then looked at him. "Is Jon coming tonight? I am fixing dinner for you. Shall I dress for the occasion?"

Jason shook his head. "No, dearest. You are lovely as you are. The dinner will be just for me and Jon tonight, you can remain in the bedroom."

This was a little unusual. In asking if I was to be dressed, I was asking whether I was to wear clothing because of our guest. Jason was making it clear that I was to remain naked while the guest was in our house, and to not participate in the meal. "Yes, sir. Should I eat before?"

"Yes, you can eat a little before he comes, which should be in half an hour. Let me know when you are done setting the table."

I did as instructed, grabbing myself a sandwich as I set the table and finished preparing the dinner for two. When the lasagna was done, salad tossed, and bread in a basket, I moved to the living room where Jason was reading.

"Everything is ready for you and Jon. Are you sure you don't want me dressed? I have never met Jon before, you know." I was concerned that a person not familiar with my status as owned slave would see me naked and question us. We are usually discrete about our relationship.

"I told you before, no. You are not to dress. Come with me." Jason rose and I followed him into the bedroom. Jason pulled out the wooden pony that he keeps in the walk in closet for punishment. I have only ridden it a few times, and the experience can range from uncomfortable to excruciatingly painful, depending on how long I am left to ride.

"Jason... I don't understand. Have I failed you in some way? Please, I don't see the need for punishment--"

Jason cut me off, "Siobhan, when will you learn to stop questioning me? I know you mean well, but you are constantly calling my judgment into question and arguing. This is to remind you that you are mine, and what I decide is final. Slide into position."

I could feel the sweat break out on my forehead as I raised one leg and swung over the wooden beam of the pony. I hate the pony. It hurts, and the longer I am forced to sit on it, the deeper the hurt goes, spreading and cramping through my clit, my cunt, my vagina, my hips...

Standing on my toes with one leg on each side of the wooden board I could feel the sharp edge below me, waiting for me to rest my weight on it. Jason took my hands behind my back and handcuffed my wrists together. He fondled my breasts for a moment. I was shaking just a little in anticipation as he slipped one hand between my legs and found my clit, rubbing it slightly. I moaned involuntarily.

Jason reached under the bed for the leg spreader, the device that would force my legs apart and make it impossible not to rest my weight on the pony. He pulled one of my legs to the side, and I felt the wooden edge dig into the soft flesh between my legs. The spreader was buckled around my right ankle, and then the left. As my left leg was pushed out to fit into the spreader, my full body weight pressed down on my labia lips, smashing them, and beginning the cycle of increasing pain.

I still tried to lift myself up by standing on my tip toes, but I knew from experience the effort was futile. Somehow, I couldn't help it. My calves strained, feet pointed out and down, toes reaching the carpet below me attempting to lift me up. My cunt ached already.

Jason kissed me and then left the room. I rocked slowly, back and forth, side to side, on the pony, beginning a long evening of suffering for my owner.

I heard Jon arrive about 15 minutes later. The door to the bedroom was ajar and I could hear Jason talking to him as they sat down to eat. I hoped they enjoyed the dinner I had prepared for them, though it was hard to concentrate on what was going on in the other room; the pain in my groin was slowly increasing.

It wasn't until after dinner that I began to hear what they were discussing. The area of my vulva was numb by then, though the aching pain was radiating outward across my hips. My face was wet from tears, though I refused to let out a sob or other audible evidence of my suffering. Rolling back slightly so that the pressure was on my anus, I listened to the men talking.

"I think it's a great idea, Jason," Jon was saying. "We the ranch is way out in the country and the spot is open. You and I could have a good time fishing and riding, maybe even hunt a bit. And the training would absolutely be good for her, I am sure of it. I have never seen a case where it didn't have a beneficial effect."

"Yep. She could use the exercise, too. She has an office job, you know, and has been getting soft. Not that I mind soft, but she could stand to lose a few. I could really enjoy the time off, as well." Jason sounded happy.

"We are fully equipped so unless she is an odd size, we could accommodate her. Would you be interested in breeding her?" Jon said.
"It't something to consider," Jason sounded thoughtful. A chill ran down my spine which mixed with the agony spreading across my ass. "Would you like to see her?"

After talking a bit more, the two men came into the bedroom. I hung my head, my hair covering my face from view. For some reason, I was always ashamed to be seen riding the wooden pony.

"Oh my, she is lovely," Jon sounded awed. "Yes, she will do well. How long has she been riding tonight?"

Jon reached out and touched my left breast, caressing my flesh and then sliding his finger tips down my side. Jason reached under my chin and lifted my face so that Jon could see my tear streaked face, and I could see the rough, weather worn face of a man slightly older than Jason. "How long have you been riding tonight, dear?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "93 minutes, Jason."

Jon laughed. "Precise bitch. I bet she watches every minute tick by, as well!"

They left the room, closing the door behind them so I could no longer hear. I was left alone with my pain, watching the clock tick by. It wasn't until I had been on the pony for almost three hours that Jason came back in and released me.

My legs shook as I tried to stand, and I barely made it to the bed before collapsing in a fetal ball. There really is no position that relieves the pain from riding the pony, but curling up sometimes makes my mind feel a little better. Jason sat down behind me and caressed my exposed ass and cunt as he explained to me.

"Well, Siobhan, I decided it was time for us to take a little vacation. Jon owns a ranch in the country and has invited us to spend some time there. It's a special ranch, one where special training for... slaves like you can be conducted."

I rolled over and looked at Jason with anxious eyes. "You won't give me up to someone else, will you? I am yours. You own me. Only you!"

Jason reached down and took my head in his hands and kissed me. "The training is pony training. You will be trained to act as a pony, to wear the proper attire, have the proper attitude and strengthen yourself. When you are ready, you may be allowed to serve by pulling carts or traps."

---

The ranch was in the foothills, distant from any towns. As with any long trips, I was transported in the back of Jason's SUV, naked with my wrists and ankles secured in a single bracket that kept me doubled over. It was nearly a five hour drive, and I was incredibly sore and tired when they finally lifted me out. Being secured in that manner, unable to move and then being lifted out and carried when we arrived impressed on me just how much of a slave I was. I didn't even feel like a slave, I felt like an animal, or piece of meat or furniture.

I was carried upside down across a large dirt open area that was partially surrounded by rustic wooden buildings. One of the buildings was a barn, and we entered through two open large double doors and into a central corridor. Stalls lined the corridor, each with a closed and barred wooden door. The two men set me down in the middle of the dirt floor and unlocked my restraints.

The two men were unfamiliar to me. I slowly stretched my arms and legs out, getting my muscles back in shape after the long cramped ride, and watched the men as they unbarred one of the doors to a stall. A small slit of a window lit the interior, showing the floor covered with hay, several iron rings and bars fixed to the walls, a couple of troughs... and that was it. I was let inside, and then left alone as the two men closed the door. I heard the bar slide into place outside. I was locked in.

It was sunny outside and the peak of the heated afternoon. The shade of the barn made it cooler, but I was still sweating, my skin slick. Dirt stuck to my flesh and made me look terrible, this worried me as I was used to always looking my best for Jason. I had to pee and there was no place I could see. I waited.

My bladder was about to burst when the door was unbarred and Jason and Jon came in. Jason immediately checked me to make sure I was OK, looking my naked body over. Jon poured a bucket of water into a trough and checked the straw. He then came over.

"Please, sir. Jason, I need to pee badly. May I go to the toilet?"
Jon responded instead of Jason. "You may pee at any time, anywhere you are, unless you are inside a building designated for humans. You may pee on the floor here, on the ground outside, or where ever you may be. No permission is necessary."

My mind had trouble grasping this concept... I was to urinate anytime, anyplace? This stall was obviously mine, I was to be kept here. I was to urinate on the floor of my cell? It began to sink in... I was being treated like an animal. I bit my lip and lowered my eyes as I blushed.

Jon went to the side of the stall and took something down from the wall. I looked at the curious item, which looked at first like a flogger, except the strands were too fine. Then I realized -- it was a tail. Three feet long, brushed horse hair which ran up to a large butt plug. A really large but plug. I whimpered as Jon brought it over to me.

"Bend over and present your anus." Jon's voice made it clear there would be no arguing. I leaned over and spread my legs. With both hands, I reached back, grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. I have never gotten used to this-- the slightly cool air penetrating to my anus makes me feel incredibly vulnerable and exposed. The plug was pressed against my anus, slowly wriggling and penetrating. My natural reaction was to clench, but I had experience with this and quickly pushed out, which relaxed the sphincter and allowed penetration more easily.

"Good girl, steady..." Jon spoke in a reassuring voice as he pushed and twisted the plug deeper and deeper, spreading my flesh wider and wider until it began hurting and I whimpered from the pain. "Good girl... just a little more and you will be there..."

Just when I thought I would not be able to take the plug, that it would tear me open instead, it slid in and narrowed. My sphincter automatically clamped down on the narrow neck of the plug, keeping the huge bulk of it inside. It was clearly large enough that it would not be expelled easily; it would take someone pulling it out.

"Good girl! I knew you could do it." Jon stroked my hair and then slapped my ass cheek as I raised up. Standing up made the plug shift inside, and it hurt a little, but I stood with my new tail hanging down behind me and tried to be as straight as possible. My breasts stood out in front of me, and I could see Jason look at me with pride. That in turn made me feel proud. I was doing well for him and was not an embarrassment.

Jon placed a long leash on my slave collar, and led me around the stall in a circle. I waddled some from the plug. "Don't worry, you will get used to that," he said." A few rules around here. First, you don't speak. We speak. You are a pony. We are your masters and trainers."

"You will wear your tail all the time. You will obey all commands. You will work hard to please your trainers. You will be fed twice a day, here in your stall. You may drink at any time water is present, but you will only be fed once in the morning, once in the evening. After you have fed, your tail will be removed temporarily and if you feel the need, you may then relieve your bowels here, on the straw. There will be no other opportunity to relieve your bowels."

Jon took a small riding crop and slapped my ass with it. "Raise your knees when you walk!"

I raised my knees higher as I walked around the perimeter of the stall. *Slap* another stinging blow on my thigh and I really raised my knees high, making a show of walking. I could feel my breasts jiggling a little as I pranced.

"Head high! Chin up!" Jon was giving directions as I pranced around the stall. Constantly correcting my posture and my gait, reminding me to look straight ahead, to keep an even pace, and so on. When I forgot an instruction, the riding crop would slap hard against my naked flesh, making me jump. It felt good when there was no sting because I knew I was doing well, I felt like a failure when he had to strike me.

I was finally allowed to stop and rest. My thighs were aching from the constant high stepping gait, and I was breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my face, chest and back. It had been a real workout.

"Jon, I would love to see any of the other ponies you have right now. Would that be possible?" Jason said as Jon tied my leather leash to a ring in the wall.

"Sure, let's go take a look," Jon replied, and they were gone.

I still needed to pee and had not been able to while I was being exercised. Looking around the stall, it was clear that there was no specific place to be used; there was simply a layer of straw. Choosing a corner, I squatted and tried to pee. It didn't come. The strange surroundings had me tense. Closing my eyes I relaxed myself... and it came. The pee streamed out and into the straw below me. When I was done, I stood and checked around the stall and got a drink of water from the trough.

My legs were still shaky from the exercise and I started to sit down. As soon as my ass pressed down to rest on the floor I leaped up again. Sitting down caused the tail to ram the plug deeper into my ass. I could kneel, stand, be on all fours, or lie down on my side, but I couldn't sit. I chose to lie down, and began to idly masturbate, looking at the wooden walls and dreaming of performing for Jason.

That evening a young man came into my stall. I stood up in the corner, not knowing what to expect. He was tall, blond, and well muscled, and looked my naked body over appreciatively, eyes resting on my exposed breasts and pussy. I stood motionless, waiting. Eventually, he brought in a bucket of something, and poured it into a small trough attached to the wall. It looked like Cheerios. He checked my water and refilled it.

Finally, the young man left and returned with a set of leather straps; a harness of some kind. "Raise your arms," he ordered. I raised them and he put my neck in a stiff posture collar, and buckled a harness around my chest so that it surrounded, but did not cover, my breasts. A belt was the last accessory; it was wide and he tightened it around my waist, making it a little hard to breathe.

"Please... that's making it hard to breathe. Can it be loosened?" I asked in a respectful voice. The stable hand ignored me, instead joining my arms together in the back and slid a monoglove up. Straps went around my shoulders, buckled tightly to prevent the binder from slipping off. Turning me around, he started tightening the laces, beginning from the bottom. At each eyelet, he pulled the leather surrounding my arms tight together, rising higher and higher. My elbows cinched closer together and as the laces were tightened in my upper arms my shoulders were pulled back as well. Finally reaching the top and tying off the laces left me in the tightest armbinder I had ever experienced. My shoulders were cramping slightly.

The stable hand checked his work, and satisfied with my leather pony gear, pushed me over into a bending position. My ass was exposed and he kicked my legs apart. Taking hold of the tail secured inside my ass he pulled, hard. It hurt horribly at first as the circle of my sphincter was forced open wider than it was meant to, but within seconds that wide portion of the plug slipped past and I was pushing the plug out and feeling tremendous relief.

Having finished withdrawal of the plug, the stable boy slipped his hand down between my ass cheeks and then down between my legs. I didn't know what to do, so I simply held still as his fingers rubbed the soft folds of my flesh, searching for my clit. When he found it, he moved one finger up and down slowly, rubbing it for a few seconds. While I was aroused, I was also confused by his attentions. He stopped after a few moments of massaging my outer labia.

left me alone in the stall, securing the door after he left. I waddled over to the trough and checked the food left there, discovering exactly what it had looked like - Cheerios. My arms were tight behind my back, neck in a collar, but I could bend at the waist and eat from the trough, which I did eagerly. I was hungry, very hungry, for it was evening and I had not eaten all day. I licked the bottom of the trough to get the last bits of food out, and drank deeply from the water, sucking it up between my lips. I even spit small amounts out to try and wash off my body a bit-- an effort that had limited success.

When the butt plug had been removed, it had been a tremendous relief, as if I had shit out the biggest bowel movement of my life. After eating, I realized I still needed to go; and remembered the schedule Jon had dictated. The plug had been removed and this was the time I would be allowed to defecate. Looking around, I surveyed the straw covered floor. There was the spot where I had peed; as good a place as any. I walked over and squatted.

Pushing with all my might, I felt the bowel movement beginning to come, just as the door opened and the stable hand entered again. My ass immediately clenched, cutting the poop off midway. I don't think I had ever been as humiliated as I was at that point. The man just stood looking at me as I squatted, with a smirk on his face. I closed my eyes, turned my head and pushed again, getting a little more out. When I had gotten as much out as I could, I stood up.

The stable hand kicked my legs apart roughly, and bent me over once again. He leaned over me as if he was going to assfuck me and reached around to fondle my breasts. His hips shoved against my ass and I could feel his erection pressing against his jeans as he dry humped me. I took it silently, but swore I would fight back if he attempted to enter me in anyway. I wasn't his property, I was Jason's. He stopped after a moment with sigh; using his fingers to spread my ass cheeks he re-inserted the pony tail / plug.

He wasn't as kind with the insertion as Jon had been. He shoved the plug up my anus as hard as he could, and the pain caused me to yelp and cry a little. I wondered if my flesh had torn. When my sphincter closed tightly around the neck of the plug and I felt the tail brushing the back of my thighs I stood and watched the stable hand leave once again. The final clunk of the door reminded me that I was trapped here, alone, my arms bound and a tail sticking out of my ass.

I went to sleep laying on the opposite side of the stall from where I had defecated.

Constant Reminder

Sex had become a medium of submission for me, and to please him while in restraints had become my ideal setting for my own climax. When I felt him approaching orgasm, it drove me wild. I began to struggle against the bondage in spasms I could not control. Without being bound it would be so much more difficult, so much less intense. The restraints increased my sensitivity to him and to my own feelings. When he finally orgasmed, it triggered something inside me and my rational mind released to the feeling of ultimate pleasure.

My body relaxed all at once as the orgasm swept past me. Spasms in my thighs and legs which pressed and strained against the straps subsided and left me sagging in my restraints. Jason had spurt inside of me moments earlier, and had begun slowly sliding in and out, enjoying the feel of my body surrounding his cock.

When he finally released my arms and legs, they encircled him as he encircled me. We lay together, intertwined in sweat and the other smells of sex. He kissed me lovingly, setting off feelings of gratitude and love that made me remember that I would do anything for him, suffer anything for him.

Later that evening, he showed me a new toy he had obtained.

"It's a strapon..." I said, a little puzzled.

"Yes, in a way. But not exactly," he held the device in his hand and explained. "The dildo part on the strap is reversed. It goes inside you."

"Oh..." I wasn't sure how I felt about this. It seemed OK, it might even be pleasurable. If not, I had been subjected to much worse than this device.

Jason was sitting on the couch with the bundle of straps in his hands. I was kneeling naked before him, hands on my slightly spread knees. It is a position of subservience that I have come to take automatically when talking with my master.

"May I hold it? It seems more complicated and sturdier than other strapons I have seen." Yes, I had used strapons before. Both with men and women, though usually with women. This one really did look a little different. There were more straps than I was used to, and the connections where straps were sewn together were quite sturdy. Several buckles showed that it could be tightened on my body so that it would not slip. Strapons that slip are a pain.

"I would like you to put it on," Jason handed me the leather bundle. I stood, and straightened the straps out until I figured out how they should go around my body. I spread my legs slightly to accommodate the thick center strap which I slid between my thighs. Before pulling it up, I positioned the dildo at my pussy lips and then pushed. It slid in with easily (I still had some of Jason's fluid inside me and was wet).

As the reverse appendage sunk deep within me, I shuddered slightly, my nipples growing hard. Pressing the strap hard, I made sure it was all the way in, and then pulled the ends of the straps up. The center strap in the front connected to a waist strap. The back strap split in two, spreading to either side of my ass cheeks in a V.

"Turn around," Jason took the waist strap as I turned my back to him. He pulled up, making sure the strap between my legs was pulled taught, and then buckled the waist strap behind me. It felt quite tight, and I tried to adjust the waist strap a little for comfort. It moved very little.

"It's designed to stay on. I've placed a lock on the buckle, so you won't be taking it off anytime soon," Jason had a happy sound to his voice. I in turn grabbed the waist strap and pulled, yanked and adjusted. My left hand probed behind my back, and felt the buckle, and yes... the small padlock. Pushing the waist strap down didn't accomplish anything, my hips are significantly wider than my waist and the strapon was not going anywhere until he unlocked me.

I sighed, turned to face him (my legs spread slightly to accommodate the strap between them), and knelt in the submissive position. "As you please, sir."

He kissed me. I melted as I kissed him back, his hands roaming over my body.

"Let's head to bed," he said. We rose, and prepared for bed. He was brushing his teeth when I realized I needed to go to pee.

"Jason..." I looked at him and lowered my head slightly, my long hair falling on either side of my face. "Um... Jason, I need to pee. Can we remove this so I can go?"

Jason turned, wiped his mouth and kissed my forehead. "Siobhan, dear. You might as well get used to dealing with this. That strapon is not coming off for the next week."

I think I must have turned white as a ghost. A week? I was going to be wearing this ... thing in my pussy, locked in place, for a week?

"Jason, I am yours. You may do with me as you please. But... please... how am I supposed to live with this for a week? At work? Driving? I don't think I can pull it off!" I could hear the slight panic in my voice.

"Well, I certainly hope you can not pull it off. If you tried and were to succeed, there would be much more significant punishment in store for you. Don't worry. You can do it. The dildo is small and the leather supple, designed for long term wear. Peeing will be a problem, but you will figure it out. Now, go to the toilet and then clean yourself. Come to bed."

A tear rolled down my cheek. I tried to stifle my feeling of panic. Jason had never done this before - introduced a punishment or restraint that I had to wear during work. The closest I had come to this was my slave collar, which is permanently screwed in place around my neck, and made of a resilient steel. It serves as a necklace as well, with a beautiful diamond Jason gave me on our wedding day.

Peeing was awful. It sprayed inside the strap, leaking on both sides of it and dribbling down my thighs. Some got inside my pussy, or at least in the folds of my labia. When I was done, I tried to clean myself as well as I could with toilet paper, but the strap squeezed tightly against my flesh. It was virtually impossible to get underneath to wipe.

After some time, I managed to get mostly clean. It must have taken me 20 minutes, and I resorted to using one of Jason's handkerchiefs because toilet paper kept shredding into little pieces. I felt like taking a shower, but Jason was getting upset, demanding my presence in bed. I climbed between the sheets, and we drifted off to sleep, his arms around me.

Work the next day was the weirdest it had ever been. I work as a manager in an IT shop, supervising a number of employees in the network and server area, as well as coordinating and supporting a wide variety of development and deployment projects with other groups. I am professional in all I do, hard in demanding and setting requirements and goals, and a good negotiator. Some might call me a bitch, but my boss knows I get things done.

This time... I could think of nothing but the appendage between my legs. As I entered the building, I tried my best not to waddle. The dildo sticking up inside me moved and wriggled as I walked, creating the most bizarre sensation. The leather strap between my thighs forced my legs apart slightly at all time, and some sort of waddle was unavoidable.

I realized two things right away. First, I was going to walk as little as possible during the day. Second, I should never had worn a skirt. I couldn't effectively cross my legs as I sat, and my legs were forced apart slightly. I could not remember ever being that humiliated before.

Peeing remained a major problem. I could go, but the pee literally squirted from the sides of the strap onto my inner thighs. That was the easy part. I then had to clean myself, which took forever; I worried that people would wonder if I was all right and come find me in the restroom. I had a supply of handkerchiefs, and they helped a lot. Still, I had to wash myself afterward, which was dangerous as someone might come in to the ladies room at any moment.

A two o'clock meeting was a disaster. I sat at the table, my legs apart underneath. I knew that no one noticed this, but I still felt incredibly exposed; if anyone were to look under the table, they would see my legs spread and my panties covering some sort of leather object between my legs. Trying to concentrate on the topic of uninterruptable power supplies, I realized that I had been shifting in my seat, and that the movement was causing the dildo to slide in and out slightly; not to mention my clit being rubbed. People were looking at me a little oddly.

The final straw came when I realized my nipples were hard and protruding against my blouse. I flushed, and excused myself from the meeting, waddling out the door.

That night, I begged for relief.

"Jason, it's my job! You have no idea how humiliating it was. I can't hide it, people know something is wrong. It's distracting!"

"Siobhan, this is exactly what is supposed to be happening. This is an insistent reminder to you that you are mine. I own you. You are my property. You work because I allow you to work, because I desire it. If I desire that you hang by your wrists in the basement instead, then that's what would happen. You seem to have forgotten that recently. This is just a reminder. Now, take off your clothes, and fix me dinner."

I did as I was told.

The next day, things were a little better. I wore pants instead of a skirt, and my top was a heavier knit. I postponed or canceled meetings, and held more small meetings with people in my office, where my odd stance could be hidden beneath my desk.

Strangely, during times when I was lone in my office and things were quiet, I found myself concentrating on the sensations of being filled, impaled by this rubber thing that had situated itself inside me. I began doing Kegels, squeezing it and concentrating on its texture. It was actually a rather good imitation of an actual cock, and I began working on accepting it as part of my dress and body.

The third day I discovered there was just enough play in the strap that I could move it back and forth. This wriggled the dildo, as well as rubbing my pussy and clit. I sat in my office, legs spread wide under my desk, pushing the leather strap back and forth. My face grew flushed, my breathing faster, and suddenly a climax swelled and took me unexpectedly. I cried out with a short moan before stopping myself. But there was no doubt about it, I had just had an orgasm.

The fourth day I tried to remove it. In the restroom, in a stall, I shoved, prodded, pushed, pulled, wedged and stretched it as best I could. It was simply too tight around my waist, and effective chastity belt. The leather was wearing on my inner thighs, creating red welts which hurt. The waist strap was tight and restricted my breathing. It was OK most of the time, but I had to take the elevator now instead of going up stairs.

One of the cable guys asked me if I was doing OK. He noticed that I wasn't moving around much, and was looking unhappy.

The reverse strapon was beginning to hurt. It chaffed against the skin and the inside of my vagina was being rubbed raw. I moved less and less, but it still got worse. I stopped masturbating with it, as the movement irritated the raw skin.

Each night, I would kneel naked before Jason, legs spread, and ask that he remove the belt. In each case he lovingly and firmly refused.

Because my pussy was permanently filled, Jason took me from behind. He used plenty of lube, and the feeling of his entering my anus and filling me, rubbing the thin separator of flesh between his cock and the dildo, was extremely arousing. Yes, anal with Jason was painful, even with lube. But there was something wanton about it, something that brought me a pleasure I didn't experience any other way, and the reverse strapon just made that even more intense.

Laying on the bed on my side, one leg up and back over Jason, I felt him enter and penetrate. I pushed back against him, and his hand reached to the belt, pressing and moving it against me. A new kind of orgasm flushed through me, again and again, each night that he took me.

Saturday evening after dinner Jason called me over, and I knelt before him, knees spread and my hands on my knees. I bowed my head slightly. He placed his hand gently under my chin, and brought my face up to look him in the eyes.

"Do you continue to need a daily reminder of your ownership?" His voice was quiet.

I thought for a moment, knowing that answering automatically could get me in trouble later.

"No sir. I don't think so. At least... not right now. I know now that I had allowed my own desires to interfere with my devotion to you. I realize my work is simply an extension of my service to you, my master. However, I am yours, and if you feel that the reminder is required, then I submit." I bowed my head, a tear trickling down my cheek. I really, really wanted him to remove the chastity belt and get the dildo out of me. I was getting a yeast infection and the irritation was going to drive me insane. But... it had been a lesson. I was his slave and would submit.

"Stand, spread your legs," he said as he reached for the key. I did as I was told, and he unlocked the waist buckle. Slowly, painfully, the dildo slid out of me. I could tell the flesh of my vagina was dry and worn, and had been stretched wide. It would return to its former tightness, but not for a while.

Jason examined me. "You have some sores, but we will get some antibiotic cream and sooth it. You will be fine."

He stood and took me in his arms, kissing me deeply. When the kiss was over, I wrapped my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. "You are my master and my husband. I am your wife and slave. It is my honor and duty to suffer for you."

Anal Punishment

Slavery to my husband has been wonderfully fulfilling to me in ways I never imagined. Feeling completely owned, completely devoted, completely possessed by him is a dream come true. Acts of discipline reinforce the relationship, and remind me of my subservient position in ways that make me feel excited, happy. Part of the reason for this is that my slavery is such an opposite experience to my outside life.

I am in management in the IT department of a large company, a professional with a number of direct reports. There, I must exercise my mind, wield control, make decisions and manage complex outcomes. Work can sometimes be stressful, and preoccupies my mind. It was this tendency of getting caught up in work that prompted a very practical lesson from Jason.

I was home late from work, for the third night in a row.

“Jason, I am sorry, but the server upgrades are going slower than planned and we have to set up the downtime for the weekend.”

Jason looked upset.

“Siobhan, I understand. I really do. And your financial contribution to our finances is great, and I support your work. But dear, you not only have a responsibility here at home, you have a –”

Cutting him short, I argued with what I knew he would say. “Yes, I know. I know. I am yours, I know this and I intend to fulfill my duties. But right now work is simply demanding, and you know how IT is.”

The argument went on a little further. Jason was entering one of his cool rages, and it testifies to how wrapped up in work I was that I missed the warning signs. But I did, and suddenly, without saying a word, he reached out, snapped a leash chain to my permanent slave collar, and started leading me upstairs.

“Jason, I am sorry. I didn’t mean disrespect… please… don’t punish me.” I knew by now I had overstepped and he was not pleased at all. I was his slave, and he was about to remind me of that fact.

When we reached our bedroom, he yanked the chain to the bed. He then turned me, pushed me onto the bed face down, and drew my wrists behind my back. Handcuffs snapped into place and I lay there, beginning to cry just a little but not moving. I knew that I needed to be very still and obey his every word at this point, if I was going to minimize his anger and the punishment.

Jason took hold of my skirt and pulled it down my legs with a single hard yank. The fabric tore as it went down, and the zipper scraped my thigh (leaving a long welt which I discovered later). I yelped more from surprise than pain but managed to stay still, laying on my stomach, with my legs over the edge of the bed.

My panties were yanked down next, and easily, leaving my ass exposed and just on the edge of the mattress. I was crying now, tears running down my cheeks and I buried my face in the blanket, unable to wipe them off.

I heard Jason remove his pants, and then his naked legs came between mine, spreading them. His hands grabbed my ass cheeks, and pulled them wide apart. I realized with a twinge of panic what he was going to do.

“Please, please… Jason, don’t do this. You know how it hurts, I am sorry and will behave… please at least use lube…”

The tip of his cock pressed against my anus. I buried my head once more and concentrated on relaxing as best I could. It was hard, I was paniced and emotionally very upset. Pushing back on his cock as he pressed in, hard, I could feel it begin to penetrate my rectum… and then the pain started.

Jason’s cock isn’t huge, but it is pretty large, and gets very hard when he is aroused. He was impaling my ass without lube, and it was going to hurt. With a sudden, massive shove, his hips thrust and cock jammed into my anus, penetrating several inches. I cried out in pain, I felt like the senstive flesh was being ripped and torn, the muscles over stretched. I wriggled some, and he slapped my ass hard with his hand several times.

“Oh god oh god oh god...” I was whimpering, and then the second massive shove came. My scream was muffled from where my face was buried in the bedding, and I tried to struggle. He grabbed my handcuffed wrists and pulled on them, yanking my shoulders back painfully, raising my head out of the bed and shoving my ass back onto his huge cock.

My sphincter was completely convulsing around him, trying to expel him with no success. He withdrew a few inches, and then shoved again, this time pulling back on my arms hard at the same time. He impaled me even further, and I grunted and then cried out again from the pain. I was certain I was bleeding now. I was bent back from where he had hold of my wrists and arms, my breasts were actually raising up off the bed.

He let go of my wrists, and instead grabbed my long hair and pulled my head back all the way. I found myself looking at the bedroom wall and ceiling, and feeling like my scalp was being removed – a burning sensation that made me sob and plead once again.

“Jason, please… this hurts so bad, please, I will be good — auggghhhhhhhh…” I grunted and cried once again as his cock plunge all the way in and my legs jerked wide as his hips pushed them apart.

His cock slipped out, about half way and then jammed in again, all the way. I could feel his testicles slap against my pussy and heard him grunt with satisfaction. Once again he withdrew and then plunged deep.

Either my sphincter was relaxing or my entire ass had been split open, for he began fucking my ass with a steady motion. The horrible ripping feeling had faded and was replaced with the sensation of having a hard, wide rod shoved deep inside me leaving abrasions as it went. Which was, of course, exactly what was happening.

I raised up a bit, trying to get my ass up into an angle that would give him better access, both to please him and to reduce my own pain. It was hard, because he kept pulling back on my hair so far my back was arched and my breasts had risen up completely off the sheets. I supported myself by my extended arms now, to help relieve the tearing pressure on my scalp as he pulled my long hair back with each thrust.

He was grunting with each thrust, and I was making involuntary noises as well, “ah.. ahh… ah.. help… god… oh… oh… aaah… aaaaahhh…” I had forgotten how huge his cock was. I could feel the ridges of his stiffness, and sliding of his flesh inside me as he moved back and forth and my own anus distended and hugging his cock as he withdrew and then plunged deep.

I struggled a little, not really consciously, but being ass raped like this, with my head bent backward and hair pulled almost out of my scalp made me lose a bit of my mind. I tried to move my arms, wriggle my legs, but nothing helped. He had hold of me in a solid position and was fucking me as hard as he could. I could feel his cock getting even harder as his thrusts jerked harder and more quickly.

He suddenly let go of my hair and I fell back down on the bed. His hands went to my hips, which he grabbed securely and shoved hard back against his own. I had stopped crying, and was simply grunting from the pressure of his thrusts. With a sudden single hard thrust he cried out, and I felt the convulsions of his cock begin.

His orgasm seemed to last forever. Spurt after spurt, his cock contracted and convulsed in my ass. I lay there and felt it inside me, felt the warmth of his semen as it filled me inside, and the continuing moans that accompanied his climax. It hurt, a throbbing pain, but the pain seemed slightly soothed by the pleasure he was experiencing inside me. I was still his slave, his fuck toy, his wife.

When he was done, he collapsed on top of me, and I lay unmoving. My tears had stopped flowing though my cheeks were still very wet. The blanket underneath my face was soaking wet from my tears and from saliva – I must have drooled quite a bit while he was fucking me. I lay, feeling his weight on my back, his cock still inside my ass, but getting smaller.

Eventually, he slowly slid out of my anus, and the feeling of his departure was both a relief and slightly painful as the raw flesh of my damaged insides slid together. I grunted a little and moaned. As he stood, he warned me to remain exactly where I was on the bed, and so I remained motionless, on my stomach, legs hanging over the edge and spread wide.

When he returned, he gently spread my ass cheeks apart.

“Siobhan, you need a real lesson in obedience. The pain of your assrape is the beginning. My semen is inside you and will remain there for a while as a reminder, I may continue the lesson later this week.”

I felt something pressing against my anus once again, something cool and smooth. It slowly spread me farther and farther apart, until my anus was stretched wider than Jason ever could. I recognized the feeling as I whimpered in the pain – he was inserting a butt plug. A big one, too from the feeling. He wanted to plug up my ass, remind me of what he had done and make sure his semen stayed inside me for a while.

When the butt plug reached its widest point, and my pain from being spread and stretched was the worst, it suddenly got smaller. My sphincter automatically closed around the narrow neck of the plug, and it was clear from the feeling of complete and total discomfort and fullness that there was no way I would get the plug out without pulling it out, and then only with some pain. It was in there for a while.

While I still lay in bed on my stomach, Jason took my leash chain and fixed it to my handcuffs, raising my wrists painfully to the middle of my back. In this position, my wrists were held up high, attached to the collar around my neck, preventing me from reaching the ass plug.

Jason raised me up, and wiped my tears. I was still wearing my top, but was nude from my waist down. He led me downstairs, and we finished our evening together in this manner. He allowed me to eat dinner in a dog dish, as my hands were still restrained behind me. Later we watched some TV before retiring for the night.

That night I slept with the butt plug and Jason’s semen securely inside me, my wrists raised uncomfortably behind my back. While the pain in my ass subsided, I wondered what he had meant when he said… “I may continue the lesson later this week.“