My King And Me

I have been waiting for over an hour…

Earlier that day I was supposed to go and see my boyfriend after I finished work. My king was building a clinic not too far from my office, and since he was rushing this project and staying late, I was going to bring him some food for dinner and maybe stay there for a couple of hours, reading the newspaper while he worked.

Right before five o'clock however my friend popped in to see if I had any plans for the night. She wanted me to join her for a beer and something to eat. It was a hot summer day and the idea of having a cold pint of beer on a patio was very appealing. I called my king to ask him if he would mind if I came a little later. He didn't sound particularly pleased but told me to go ahead and have a beer and come to the clinic when I am done. In fact he sounded a little abrupt and I did have a feeling that perhaps I was not doing the right thing… But at the same time I thought – what's the big deal… I just finished work, I want a drink, and I want to chat with my friend, and it is not the end of the world if I don't run to the clinic right away.

The patio was crowded and a lot of men glanced in our direction as we were passing through, following the waitress who was showing us to our table. My friend is a beautiful young woman and that day we both were wearing bright summer dresses. It felt very good to sit in the sun, to remove the little cotton sweater that I was wearing in the office over my somewhat revealing dress, to sip a cold Heineken, to relax. We ordered more beers, a plate of nachos, and it was with some dismay that I realized that two hours have passed. My cell phone started ringing and I picked it up hastily.

“Where are you?” my king sounded very impatient.

“Oh, I am still at the restaurant, but I will be on my way pretty soon. We are just about to pay up. Would you like me to order anything for you?”

“No, don't bother, I am not going to wait all night for my food. Just get your ass over here.”

“Please, mi amor… Let me get you something…” I felt very guilty now, as well as very concerned of what would happen later.

“I told you to get your ass over here. If you are not here in half an hour, don't bother to come.”

He hung up. I sighed, and then looked up at my friend. She was watching me with a somewhat ironic expression.

“Why are you letting him treat you like this?” she asked. “ Have some pride, woman. Look at yourself – beautiful, smart, young. Why are you letting him walk all over you? ”

I could have told her why, but this was something that even your best friends are not supposed to know. How could I tell her that this man was my king, my master, that every night I was taking off his boots and licking the soles of his feet with my tongue… That he could whip me for no reason at all, just because it would amuse him… That he could make me lick his balls and his ass for hours at night, so even when he was falling asleep he could feel my moist tongue on those sensitive areas… I could tell her how just the night before, when we got out of the truck and I was holding several bags, I asked him to help me, and his reply was “Shut up and carry it, bitch.” This was said in front of his friend who looked at us in amazement. Seeing that, my king slapped my ass very hard, as I was walking in front of him carrying my purse, his beer and some groceries that we picked up on the way home. I blushed although I thought that I shouldn't feel embarrassed. I was his slave; I should feel proud and happy when he humiliates me in front of people. I should feel grateful. In the elevator, when we were alone, my king was fingering my pussy while I was still holding the bags. He told me to spread my legs wide for him and then he showed me his moist finger; I was very wet. And while I was putting away the beers and groceries in the kitchen, he lifted my tight skirt, took a wooden spoon out of the drawer and hit me with it several times on my ass.

“Keep your skirt like that while you are cooking,” he said. “You look very attractive with your high heels and your spanked ass showing.”

Needless to say, I did as I was told.

But it was impossible for me to tell all that to my friend. She wouldn't understand, she would think that I am really disturbed and messed up.

We paid the bill and went on the way. My phone started ringing again.

“Where are you?” he demanded.

“Mi amor, I am in the car with my friend. She will drop me off at the clinic.”

“No, I don't want her here. Take a bus.”

“But honey, it will take me longer… And it is so hot today… Why?..”

“Don't ask any fucking questions. Just get out of the car, take a bus and come here.”

I turned off the phone and looked at my friend helplessly.

“I think I am better off taking a bus,” I said.

“Are you nuts?” she asked me. “What's his problem? I am not going to let you do it!” She snatched the phone from my hand and turned it off completely.

“You are not going there now!” she announced. “ You will go in a couple of hours, when he is done mixing his concrete and laying his tiles or whatever the heck he is doing.”

And so I don't know exactly why I let it happen, but instead of running to my king I ended up with my friend, drinking coffee at her apartment. I was uneasy and restless; I switched my phone back hoping that he would call. I couldn't call him myself because I didn't know what to say. I failed him. I disobeyed him. I was not a good bitch today.

He did call eventually. My hands were shaking as I picked up the phone.

‘You don't want to be with me anymore?” he asked.

“ Oh, mi amor, please don't say that. I am so sorry…”

“Well, if you don't come now, don't bother to ever call me again.”

“Yes, I will come. Are you still working?”

“No, I am at home. But you will go to the clinic now, where you were supposed to go today. Go there and wait for me. Don't call me, just wait till I get there.”

After I received all these instructions I was in a hurry to go. I almost ran to the bus stop, my heart was beating wildly, I was breathless. The bus came fairly quickly, but then it seemed to me that it was barely moving, dragging along the streets at a snail's pace. Miraculously, however, it finally got there. I stepped down on the street, and then ran again to the clinic, looking for the white truck that my king was driving. It wasn't there. It was dark already, almost eleven o'clock, and everything was closed except for the convenience store. There were no people around and I was slightly uncomfortable standing there by myself. This definitely wasn't the safest part of the city. I tried the doors to the clinic, but they were locked: I had nowhere to go and I had no choice but to wait there, as my king had told me.

It was getting colder too. The day was hot and beautiful, but now I was shivering. I was wearing only a short sundress with an open back, a short-sleeved cotton sweater and tan sandals with high heels. I was hoping that my king would come soon. I was getting tired as well. I was leaning on the wall first, and then I sat down on a curb. I looked at my cell phone to check the time.

It has been over an hour…

Just when I had the scary thought that he might make me wait there all night, I finally saw his truck pulling into the parking lot.

I stood up and stepped towards the car. My king leaned over and opened the door on the passenger side. I put the purse in, and was about to get in the car myself when he stopped me.

“Not yet,” he said. “ I am really not sure if I want to take you home right now. You pissed me off today.”

I was standing there, looking at him, unable to speak at first. I was scared. I wasn't scared that he would hurt me or punish me, but I was scared that he wouldn't want to be with me after what I had done.

“Do you know that I have never been faithful to any woman that I have been with?” he asked me and took a sip of beer that he was drinking. “ I cheated on all of them. Except you. In seven months I never wanted to fuck another woman. That slut doesn't count. I wanted to see you with another girl, to see how much you would be willing to do for me to prove to me that you love me. Only you turn me on. You know why? Of course, you are a very beautiful woman that a poor Spanish guy like me can never hope to get. But more important – you make me feel like your king, like your master, like somebody in control… Somebody very [powerful…You do everything I say.' He took another sip of beer. “But today I didn't like it. You disobeyed me. You are killing my love for you when you do things like that. You made me feel like shit.”

“I am very sorry, my king.” I replied. “I know I was wrong. Please forgive me…”

“Take off your panties and your top.”

Quickly looking around I reached under my dress and pulled off my thong. I unbuttoned my sweated and took it off too, then put my things on the passenger sit next to my purse. I looked at my king, waiting for the next order. I didn't feel cold anymore, just excited to be close to him, whatever was about to happen next. He looked tired, and he was still wearing his work clothes that were dusty and covered in paint. His thick black hair was in a ponytail. There was a dark stain of sweat on his t-shirt.

He took another sip of beer.

“Do you love me?” he asked

“Yes, mi amor, I love you.”

“Who are you?”

“I am your bitch, my king.” I replied.

“Get on all fours and crawl around the truck to my side,” he said.

That was new. My king humiliated me often, but always in the privacy of our home, if you don't count the episode in front of his friend. I looked around. Nobody was on the parking lot at this time, but cars were passing by on the street and the variety store was still open.

“What if somebody will see me?' I asked

“I don't give a shit. Do you? Is that how you obey me ?”

“I am sorry, my king.”

What choice did I have? I got on my hands and knees, feeling the rough surface of the pavement under my skin. I was crawling around the truck, to where my king was sitting, trying to move slowly because I didn't want to scratch my knees. I crawled around the front of the car, to where he was sitting. He looked down at me.

“Stay there,” he said. “Lift your dress so I can see your ass.”

I was terrified that somebody would see me. What would they think? Can I be arrested for indecent exposure? Or for indecent behavior? But I already disobeyed my master once today. Slowly I straightened up a little from my humiliating position and pulled up my dress in the back, revealing my ass. My hands were numb and felt as if they didn't belong to me. Then I returned to my crawling position. I didn't dare to look my king in the eyes.

“Crawl around the truck again,” He said. “ With your dress up.”

And there I was, crawling around his truck on my hands and knees, with my naked ass in the air, terrified that somebody will see me, mortified by what my king was making me do. Was it getting to be too much? Was I having second thoughts? Was it really me? To everybody else I was a confident attractive professional young woman. What would people say if they could see me now? What would they think if they see me behaving like that, acting without any shame or self-respect?

I completed the circle around the truck and once again stopped in front of my king.

“Stand on your knees. Look at me,” he commanded.

I straightened up, looking him in the eyes, trying to guess what he would do next. Would he let me get inside now? Would he take me home for real punishment? Would he forgive me? Would he make me crawl another humiliating circle around his truck? Would he order me to strip down completely right here?

“ So,” he started. “ You wanted to go for a drink with your friend?”

“Yes,” I whispered, knowing that this conversation cannot possibly lead to anything good, but still this was the only thing to say.

“Is that how a good bitch should behave? When her master is waiting for her?”

“No, my king, I am sorry.”

“You haven't learned anything,” he concluded, and I could hear some genuine sadness in his voice. Suddenly this pierced me like a knife. I made him sad. I disappointed him. I realized with amazement that this could make me cry and suffer worse that any pain or discomfort that could be inflicted on my body.

“Please,” I begged, and my voice was shaky and uncertain. “ Please don't leave me! I don't know what I will do without you! I don't know how I could live without you. I am sorry… Please help me. Please understand that I am not like that. I won't ever be like that. I know I can learn. I know I can be good. I know you can teach me how to be perfect for you. Do what you want with me, but please don't leave me!”

I leaned forward and placed my lips on his dusty old work boot. I felt like I was a pilgrim who traveled through deserts and seas to just be able to kiss a sacred relic for one brief second. My king didn't push me away. He bent closer to me and asked:

“If all that is too much for you, tell me right now. I won't push you further. I know I am very demanding. I know I have been asking a lot. So if this is too much, tell me now.”

I shook my head and looked up at him.

“It is not too much. I am your slave. I am your bitch. That is all I can wish for.”

He still hadn't touched me, but his eyes softened a little, and I knew that the worse was over.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

He unzipped his pants and took his cock out.

“This is in case you might still be thirsty,” and with this words I felt the hot stream of his urine hitting my face, aiming at my open mouth. This was unexpected and I gagged at first, but then managed to control the impulse. He was pissing all over me now – I could feel the beautiful sundress getting soaked and clinging uncomfortably to my skin. Once again he aimed at my mouth, filling it up with his urine.

“Swallow,” he said.

I did, struggling a little. As much as I loved my king, I felt nauseous as I drank his piss, but I managed to keep it down.

“Still thirsty, bitch?” he asked.

“No, my king.”

“Do you like tasting my piss?”

“Yes, my king, I do.”

“ Say “thank you” then!” my king demanded.

“Thank you. I love drinking your piss. I love you. You are my master.”

“And who are you?”

“I am your bitch, your whore, your slave.”

“So, are you going to be good and obey me now?” he asked.

“Yes, mi amor, I will be good.” I promised.

“Well, I guess I will take you home now.” He got out of the car, the beer bottle still in his hand, and walked around to the back door of the truck. Without him telling me to do so, I followed him, crawling. He opened the door and spread some heavy plastic on the floor.

“You smell horrible,” he said. “Like a public washroom. I don't want you to fuck up the inside of my truck. Now get in and stand on your hands and knees.”

I climbed inside and stood there on the plastic in the position that he wanted. My king drank the last of his beer and then touched my ass. This was the first time that night that I felt his hands on me. He fingered my asshole, tracing it, and then spread my ass cheeks apart with one hand. I could feel something cold, hard and extremely uncomfortable forcing its way up my asshole. Moaning, I realized that this had to be the beer bottle.

“Stand still, bitch,” he warned me as I was trying to move unconsciously, attempting to escape the intruding bottle. He pushed harder, forcing it deeper, making me groan. He held it like that with one hand, making sure that it will not slip out, and with free hand he reached between my legs, grabbed a few pubic hairs and pulled on them, causing me more discomfort and pain. He kept tormenting me like that for several minutes, stretching my asshole with the neck of the peer bottle, pulling out the hairs on my pussy, and pinching my clit and the sensitive area of my inner thighs. I knew better than ask him to stop, my guilt was keeping me from begging for mercy. I stood there on all fours, just waiting for him to be done with this part of my punishment.

He stopped what he was doing and slapped my bare ass several times with the palm of his hand.

“I am not done with you yet,” he told me, as he left me there in the back, closed the door and went to get inside the truck.

The ride home was very uncomfortable. He didn't tell me that I could change the position, and I kept standing on my knees and hands for the entire time. At certain times it was difficult to remain like that, and I think that my king was driving a little rough on purpose, to make it more uncomfortable for me.

When we got to the apartment building he opened the back door for me and allowed me to get out and walk. There were some people at the entrance to the building and as I walked by them I was hoping that they would not notice my soaked dress or smell the piss on me.

My king opened the door that led to the stairs and motioned me to go inside. I was a little surprised, since we live on the 11 th floor, but didn't express it in any way. I walked in and heard him close the door behind me. Then I felt him roughly pulling up my dress, revealing my ass once again.

“Crawl, bitch,” he ordered, and he pushed me towards the stairs. I once again lowered myself to the floor, and stood there, waiting for the next command.

“Well, you need a special invitation, slave?” he inquired. “ A little bit of encouragement?”

I heard him take out his belt and a few seconds later he hit me with full force, causing me to shudder and moan in pain. After that I started crawling up the stairs, with my king following me and instructing me on how I should be doing it. He told me to spread my knees as far apart as I could, and I was desperately trying to obey his commands without losing my balance and keeping up the speed that he wanted me to keep. Every few seconds I was once again “encouraged” by the belt hitting my defenseless spread ass. I looked up to see what floor I was on, because it seemed to me like this torture was going on forever. I was on floor 4! Seven more to go.

I kept crawling up the stairs in front of my king, and now he was targeting my anal opening in order to speed up my progress. I was completely lost in pain now, desperately trying to move faster, but this was difficult to do since I had to keep my thighs spread. What a sight I must have been during that trip to the eleventh floor – soaked and smelling of piss, treated worth than a dog, rewarded by painful hits of the belt every few steps. I couldn't scream for fear of alerting the neighbors (if only they knew what was happening now behind their walls…), and I was trying my best to suppress my moans, but this pain combined with climbing the stairs was suffocating me, and my breathing was irregular and hard.

It is rather strange, but physical suffering still bothered me less than the thought that I was like that in front of the man that I loved more than anything else. I remembered how when he had first met me he was immediately struck by my beauty and by the thought that I was totally unattainable. He used to come to my office for something, and his sad black eyes were haunting me to a point where I would lose my composure and start to aimlessly move papers on my desk. And then…right after we started to have a relationship, he used to treat me like a goddess, he used to worship me, to adore me. I was his Russian princess, his gorgeous white woman, his queen.

Although I knew that what he was making me do was for his pleasure and because he wanted it, I still couldn't get rid of the feeling of discomfort. How could he love me after he saw me like that? How any man can love a woman, however beautiful she was, after watching her crawl the stairs on all fours, in the piss-soaked dress, with her exposed ass that was red and welted from the endless blows of his belt?

Everything comes to an end eventually, and so did my journey to the eleventh floor. My hips were aching very badly from the unusual exercise I was subjected to, my body was so sweaty that I could feel the salty drops falling off my face, although maybe these were my tears, I couldn't tell for sure… I was so exhausted that I thought how wonderful it would have been to lie down on a cold stone of the stair landing and just stay like that for awhile, pressing my burning hurting body to the soothing cool marble… My king opened the door that led to the hallway and motioned me inside. I followed, grateful that our apartment was right next to the door that led to the stairs. I waited while my king opened the door, hoping that nobody was watching through the eyehole. We must have been a bizarre sight…

My king opened the door and then turned to me:

“I could have left you here all night, on your knees, for what you have done today. I could have told you to lick this door till I am ready to let you in. I am your master and I can do it. And if you were a good bitch, you would do it. But I am not done with punishing you yet. So I will let you in now.”

I crawled inside the apartment and stopped in the hallway, not sure where to go in my present state. My king slapped me again with his belt and ordered me to go to the bathroom. I crawled to the bathroom and there, obeying my king orders, I pulled off the wet dress, removed the sandals and crawled in the bathtub. My king once again took out his cock and started urinating on me – on my back, on my head, saturating my hair, on my ass, where it immediately started to sting because of the fresh welts.

“Raise your head,” he said, and after that his hot piss filled my readily open mouth.

“Swallow,” he ordered. Struggling, I again swallowed the salty burning liquid.

“Did you swallow?” he demanded.

I nodded, not able to speak, still trying to fight the gagging feeling I was experiencing. He obviously noticed my discomfort, because he bent closer to me and whispered:

“You better get used to it, slave, because you will be drinking all of it soon.”

After that he turned on a hot shower and ordered me to clean myself and join him in the bedroom.

Shakily, I stood up. It felt strange to stand on my feet again, and me hips hurt even more as I changed my position. But the hot water felt good everywhere except my whipped ass, and I could feel how my tense sore muscles were relaxing. I washed and conditioned my hair, I soaped my body with the fragrant body wash followed by the scrub to make my skin smooth and silky. I shaved inside my thighs, leaving my pussy lips and the area around my ass smooth. I left my bush intact, since my king liked it. I applied the body lotion after I stepped out of the shower and blow-dried my black shoulder-length hair. I studied my reflection in the mirror. I didn't need any makeup: my body and face were tanned and all I needed was a dot of lip-gloss to prevent my lips from being dry. I turned around to look at my ass and gasped: I saw a web of red swollen welts and marks on my buttocks and my thighs, and some of them were already turning dark blue. After wrapping a towel around my hips, I stepped into the hallway and then into the cool air-conditioned air of our bedroom.

My king was ready for me. I saw that he took out the blindfold, the ball gag, the ankle and wrist restraints, and some clothespins. He turned to me when I walked in and took me in his arms. My punishment was far from being over, but the instant I felt my king's hands on my body, I felt relaxed and happy, ready to purr like a cat from sheer pleasure. He took off his t-shirt and his sweaty beautiful body smelled so good that my head started spinning.

My king touched my breasts and squeezed my nipples. I started moaning and pressed my body against his, at the same time kissing his beautiful muscular chest. He held me in his arms for a while, biting my neck, stroking my hair, kissing my face and my closed eyes.

“My bitch,” he whispered, “my pet… I love you so much. I love you so fucking much… What have you done to me with these green eyes of yours? My perfect woman, my slut, my property…”

He took off the towel that was wrapped around my hips and stroked my pussy. I parted my legs immediately, allowing better access for his fingers. I loved this man so much – my king, my master, the only man who was strong enough and bold enough to treat me like a whore, to take complete control over me, to degrade me and yet to love me so much.

“I love you,” he repeated. “But today you behaved like a stupid cunt. And I will punish you like the stupid cunt that you are. “

He led me to the magnificent wooden bed that he designed and built himself. He made exactly what we needed – a very strong structure, with four posts to tie my wrists and ankles to. He helped me climb on the bed and then put on the restraints. After that he tied my ankles and my wrists to the posts, leaving me totally helpless and spread wide. He lifted my ass with one hand and put two pillows underneath, elevating my pussy, making it an easy target. I shivered. I knew what was coming. Although my king often slapped my pussy with his hand, although once in a while I had to taste the stinging bite of his belt on this sensitive area during the whipping sessions, he had never whipped me exclusively on this area. I was scared of the pain and if I could, I would have begged him not to do it. And yet I didn't utter a word and was just staring at him, mesmerized by his unhurried precise movements.

He fingered my pussy, exciting me, and my fear was mixed with lust now. He took the ball gag and told me to open my mouth. I did, and my king pushed it in, adjusting the straps behind my head.

“ You have beautiful eyes,” he said. “But I don't want these green eyes to see what is happening. So I will have to blindfold you, baby.”

He put the blindfold over my eyes, and now I was in the darkness… His hands went for my nipples, pulling on them, twisting them, pinching them, till my nipples were hard and erect. Then he squeezed my right nipple between his fingers, I felt something hard pressed to my nipple, a second later he let go and I let out a soft moan of surprise: the pain that pierced my nipple was a strong throbbing sensation. Clothespins, I realized. He is putting clothespins to my nipples. He reached for my left nipple and repeated the same process. I was desperately trying to escape the second clothespin, but the ties that were securing me to the posts didn't allow for much movement. He had never done that before. I always had found the idea appealing, but now, as I was tied to the bed, with the clothespins attached to my nipples, I knew how wrong I had been. I thought that I wouldn't be able to stand it. I realized that I was squealing, not able to let out my screams because of the gag in my mouth. I couldn't beg him with my eyes; he had made sure that my eyes were covered. The pain became a little duller, maybe I was getting used to it, but it still was causing me agony. I felt his fingers between my thighs. I felt sheer panic at the thought that he would put a clothespin on my clit. But his finger moved to my asshole, probing it, and then I felt something cold and not too big being inserted in it. I didn't feel anything at first, I was just grateful that it wasn't a plug that could cause me a lot of discomfort, but then I became aware of a burning sensation spreading inside my anus. “Ginger,” I thought. One time my king used ginger on my clit, and although I liked it very much, I told him that day that I wouldn't be able to stand it if a piece of ginger was inserted in my ass. But now it was, and it was beginning to burn more and more, combining with the pain in my nipples, and there was not a thing I could do, but to lay there, moaning, waiting for this pain to stop.

“Well, baby, you are ready now,” I realized that my king was whispering in my ear, I could feel his breathing, I could sense his warmth, I was aware of his hands stroking me, touching me with tenderness and love.

“I adore you,” he said. “ You are my bitch. I can do anything I want with you. But I love you and that is why I will give you a choice.” He placed something in my right hand and I grasped it unconsciously, as if squeezing something in my hand could ease the pain in my nipples and asshole. It felt like a small terry cloth, a towel.

“When you feel that you cannot take it anymore, you can drop it, and I will stop. But remember – you are being punished for what you did today, so I will be very disappointed if you try to avoid your punishment. You disobeyed me and you have to be disciplined. I have to start being really firm with you so we can progress somewhere with the training. But I love you and I am giving you this choice today. Only because I love you.

He walked towards the foot of the bed and I felt how he stood there, looking at my spread helpless body, at the restraints on my ankles and wrists, at the blindfold on my face, at the ball gag in my mouth, at the clothespins on my nipples, at the ginger inserted in my ass. And then I heard the swishing sound of the belt and the pain exploded between my legs, made me forget about everything else, made me shake violently, made me let out strange suffocated screams that were being suppressed by the ball gag. Another blow of the heavy leather belt, hitting the inner thigh… Another one, once again right on my defenseless pussy, causing me to arch my back. I couldn't take it. I simply couldn't take it. This was too much. Nobody could be expected to take that. Another blow – hitting my clit this time. I started screaming again, only it didn't sound like a scream. Then I was biting on the ball, and that seemed to help me deal with the pain a little bit. The blows kept coming, I was grunting, sinking my teeth in the hard rubber, wriggling like a snake, but this didn't help me to escape the blows, or the insane throbbing in my nipples, or the burning in my ass that seemed to intensify a lot since I was involuntary squeezing my buttocks after each blow.

I was desperate for this ordeal to be over, but as desperate as I was, I kept squeezing the towel in my hand, unable to drop it, unable to beg for mercy.

After a while the pain of heavy thick leather descending on the sensitive areas of my inner thighs and pussy stopped to surprise me, I was able to regain the rhythmic breathing, my panic was gone as well as the fear of the belt tearing up my flesh. My moans subsided a little, or maybe I myself was getting used to them.

And then it stopped and my blindfold was removed, I blinked my eyes helplessly, getting used to the light and trying to blink away the tears. My king sat down next to me and was stroking my wet teary face, and then my inner thighs and pussy, healing with his gentle touch the pain that he himself subjected me to just a few minutes ago. In spite of the abuse my body had to suffer, I responded immediately and felt the familiar excitement that only my king could awaken in me. I moaned again, but this time it sounded completely different, and my king smiled, because he knew…

He moved to my face again and removed the ball gag, undoing the clasps at the back of my head. I swallowed gratefully and was about to say something, when he lightly pressed the finger to my lips.

“Quiet,” he said. “ Your punishment is not quite over yet, and you are not allowed to speak. Just be a good bitch and let me remove everything.”

He reached between my legs and pulled out the ginger that was plugging my asshole. The burning remained, but I felt that it had been subsiding in the last few minutes.

“Don't scream,” he said.

I knew why he said that when he removed the first clothespin. The pain was worse than anything I had suffered so far. I struggled with my ties again, arching my back, shaking my head, gasping in fruitless attempts to relieve the terrible sensation in my nipple. He put his mouth to my breast, and sucked on the abused flesh, relieving my agony a little. I was crying, waiting for him to remove the second cloth pin. He did, and while I was once again wriggling wildly on the bed, he removed my restraints and held me there, kissing away my tears, stroking my hair and whispering to me. He smiled and removed the towel from my hand – the towel that I managed to keep through the whole session, without dropping it, without asking for his pity.

“My bitch, you make me so proud,” he told me in his beautiful deep voice. “ You are such a good bitch, you are getting better every day, baby. You took your punishment well, I am very happy with you… You deserve a cold beer, that I will get for you now.”

The beer tasted wonderful, I gulped it down, the whole bottle right away, realizing how thirsty I was and how dry my throat had become…

I was resting in his arms now, completely exhausted, but feeling how his warmth and affection restore my energy. I was looking at his beautiful face, at his long hair, not able to talk to him, not able to tell him how much I loved him.

He smiled at me and traced my eyes very gently with his finger.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” he said. “Big beautiful green eyes… For the whole day tomorrow that is what you are going to do – just look at me with these big beautiful eyes. You are not allowed to speak yet. And I will not give you my cock today and tomorrow. When I get horny I will tell you to go kneel by the bed and I will jerk off on your face. But once your punishment is over, I will fuck you really good and hard, just the way I know you like it. And if you want anything from me – you have to go and lick my feet, till I guess what you want. And if you want to tell me that you love me – you have to go and lick my ass. That would be the best way to let me know that. And tonight you are sleeping on the floor. You can take a blanket and a pillow with you. I will miss having you next to me. You know how I love sleeping next to you… But you have to learn.”

He removed his clothes and was now stretching next to me in bed, also tired after this long hot day. He looked at me and asked:

“Do you love me?'

Instead of replying I smiled, and then waited till he turned, and went down, ready to lick him for as long as he wanted me to.

I loved him so much…