Sitting on my futon, reading the front page of the Times in an attempt to distract myself from how lonely I was, I was startled by the sound of the phone ringing. Oh god, please let it be him. It had been far too long since he'd wanted to see me and I was aching for his touch.

"Hello?"

"I want you to come over here. Now." Him, of course. Who else would give me such a direct order? Who else would I be so ready to obey upon receiving it?

"Yes sir," I replied, my voice taking on the unintentionally breathy quality that always came to it when I first heard him. Already so excited when I didn't even know what he had planned.

"What are you wearing?"

The question surprised me. Since I always ended up naked except for my collar the second I walked through his door, he never seemed to care what I wore. What did he have in mind for tonight, then?

"Just a flannel shirt and some jeans," I replied, feeling rather guilty that I didn't have a more exciting answer for him.

"That won't do at all. Here is what you are to change into. That particularly short black skirt and that particularly thin white shirt. Black thigh-highs. Your black shoes with the highest heels. Black bra. No panties."

He wanted me to go out in public dressed like that? Just a few times, when he'd come over to my place instead of me going over to his, I'd worn that sort of outfit, but certainly not in front of strangers.

"But sir—" I began to protest.

"No buts. I expect to see you as soon as you've changed." And then nothing but the dial tone.

I hung up. I knew I had no choice but to obey him. Failing to in any way only ever got me in trouble, and no matter what his orders were, I always wanted to do it as best as I could to show him that I could be a good slave. Still, I couldn't help being nervous thinking about all the eyes that would surely be on me on the street and on the subway.

Knowing he'd be upset if I took any extra time, I went to change, hands slightly shaking as I put on each item of clothing. Just before I headed out the door, I took a quick look at the mirror, and all I could think was that I looked like a cheap streetwalker.

My mind might have been exaggerating it a bit because of how humiliated I felt, but as soon as I stepped out of my building it felt as if all the people I passed had their eyes on me. The fact that I still wasn't experienced enough walking in heels to be able to do it confidently made the trip to the subway station feel as though it were taking forever, even though it was actually a mere two blocks.

The only seat I could find free was facing the doors. I did my best to tug my criminally tiny skirt down just before I sat, but even when I did, I realized that it was still so short that just the very bottom of my pussy was showing. Fuck.

I kept my eyes down, staring at the dirty floor of the car, feeling completely overcome with shame thinking about what everyone must be thinking about me. I heard several sets of hushed voices mixed with laughter and had no doubt that I was the subject of the conversations.

It wasn't until I felt the moisture leaking onto my legs that I realized how incredibly turned on I was.

I most definitely still felt overcome with shame, every bit as much as I'd been from the moment I'd stepped outside. But for some inexplicable reason that was making me wetter and wetter.

I raised my head. Three men sitting across from me. Three men not even pretending they weren't entirely focused on me.

Oh god, I wanted to spread my legs wide and start furiously rubbing my wet pussy for them, rubbing it and loudly moaning while they all watched, showing them I really was as much of a slut as I looked like. And then, after I'd finished my show by cumming incredibly hard, I would crawl across the filthy floor and suck each of their cocks in turn, while everyone else watched. Maybe other men would take their cocks out and start stroking them, maybe they would all cum all over me, maybe they would take videos with their phones, maybe everyone would know. Fuck fuck fuck.

Without taking the time to consider whether it was a good idea or not, I spread my legs just wide enough to make my wet, wet pussy barely visible. I was rewarded with three very large grins.

I felt so close to following through on the rest of my plan, but just then my stop was announced. Giving the men across from me a quick wave, I stepped out the door.

It only took a minute to walk to his apartment. With how horny I was now, I was really desperate to see how he was planning to use me.

He buzzed me in and I hurried up the stairs to his floor as quickly as I could. I hoped he would think I was as sexy as those men on the subway had.

He opened the door, and then, after I'd stepped inside, pushed me up against it without a word of greeting. His tongue in my mouth, his body pushing into me hard. I rubbed myself against him. God, I needed him now, but I knew fully well that nothing would be happening until he decided it was time. How desperate I was never meant anything to him—in fact, he usually enjoyed making me suffer even longer if I was just to torture me. Still, once he'd pulled away from me it was difficult to not beg him to fuck me without making me wait a moment longer.

He stepped back from me then and surveyed my body up and down, slowly.

"Do you have any idea how slutty you look?" he asked.

"Yes sir." Did I ever.

"Do you know what I'm going to do about that?"

"What, sir?" I certainly knew what I hoped he was going to do about that, but I had no idea if that was what he meant or not.

He walked across the room and sat down in the chair against the opposite wall.

"Come here." I did.

"Over my lap."

What the fuck? He was going to spank me for obeying his orders? Well...of course I knew that that wasn't exactly all I'd done, but I sure as hell hadn't told myself about putting myself on display for those men on the subway, and I wasn't too keen on the idea of telling him either.

"But sir, that isn't fair!"

He grabbed my hips and pulled me up against his knees.

"I said, over my lap, slut," he said, that slight edge in his voice that made it clear I would be in even bigger trouble than I already was if I didn't immediately obey him.

I lowered myself into his lap as I had so many times before. The first strike came without a word of warning. Even after all the spankings I'd received from him, the initial blow always came as such a shock that I cried out.        

"Going out dressed like a common whore," he said. "Showing everyone what a filthy slut you are."

"But sir, this is the outfit you told me to wear!" I knew how upset he got when I questioned him, but this seemed so incredibly unfair that I couldn't resist.

"I know I did. But I didn't tell you to enjoy it," he replied. When I didn't respond to this, he continued, "Or are you going to claim you didn't?"

"I...I..." I knew how improper it was to not respond to a direct question from him, but now that I could see that the actual reason I was getting in trouble was something I had very much done, I was having a hard time getting the words out.

"I asked you a question, bitch," he said, his hand coming down particularly hard as he did.

"Yes sir," I replied in a small voice, knowing I was not going to be able to avoid confessing the whole thing eventually and wondering how exactly I could've been so stupid.

"Exactly how much did you enjoy it?" he asked, but then, before I had time to answer, "Or I know, I'll just check."

He stopped spanking me and moved his hand towards my pussy. I knew how wet I'd gotten on the subway and was sure I was even wetter now that I was with him. Being with him, even when he wasn't actually doing anything to me, always turned me on out of my mind, and, since having him spank me always filled me with a peculiar mixture of pain and pleasure, I was sure that hadn't exactly helped either.

He reached a long, thin finger deep inside me. I couldn't help it—I started rubbing myself against him, moaning.

"You're positively soaking," he said. "Even more than I expected. It's one thing for me to tell you to go out like this, but if you hadn't gotten so wet over it I wouldn't have to punish you. You ought to be ashamed of what a whore you are."

"Yes sir, I am," I replied, still rubbing against his hand. I did feel ashamed, but, just as when everyone had been looking at me on the way over, that feeling was somehow translating into making me even more turned on.

He withdrew his hand and brought it down particularly hard on my ass.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to show you exactly how slutty you are by fucking yourself with my finger, whore," he said.

"Yes sir. Sorry sir." Under normal circumstances I would've known better, but everything that was happening was just making me hornier and hornier, and I was having an increasingly difficult time thinking clearly.

He was getting into a steady rhythm of spanking me now. I was feeling desperate to start rubbing my pussy against his leg, but, remembering what he'd just told me, I managed (with difficulty) to restrain myself.

"Now. I want you to tell me exactly what happened on your way over here. And don't leave anything out."

The moment I'd been dreading. Well, I'd have to tell him sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with now, especially since I was getting punished already.

"Well..." I hesitated for just a moment, but I knew I wouldn't really be able to hide it from him. Then, suddenly, my words started coming out in a rush.

"At first I felt so humiliated. I felt like everyone was staring at me and thinking I was such a slut. I felt like such a slut. But then I was on the subway and I still felt so humiliated but somehow it ended up turning me on and I could feel myself getting wet all over my legs and there were these men sitting across from me and they were all staring at me, staring at me like they wanted to use me, and oh god I wanted to let them, I wanted to start fingering myself while they all watched me, it would've felt so good to have them watch me, to show them how much of a slut I really am. I wanted to have them watch me and then crawl over to them and suck their cocks, I wanted to suck the cocks of every man in the car, and I—I was so turned on that I opened my legs just a little so they could see my pussy so they could see how wet I was having them look at me and they liked it I could tell they liked it and I'm so sorry sir I know it was a very bad thing to do but I just couldn't think straight at all and I felt so slutty and it just seemed right and I'm sorry!"

He had been spanking me harder and harder the whole time I'd been talking, but when I got up to the last part he suddenly stopped completely. Now that I was actually confessing to him, I had no idea what the fuck I'd been thinking.

"You did what?" he asked. He never raised his voice at me, no matter how angry he was, and somehow this was even scarier than just having him yell at me.

I knew he'd heard me, of course, and I didn't particularly want to have to say it twice. But since he'd asked I had no choice but to answer.

"I spread my legs and showed them my pussy, sir."

"Jesus fucking christ," he said. He began spanking me again, much harder this time. "You need this punishment much, much more than I thought."

"Yes sir. Please punish me, sir." I did want him to, very much. I knew that was the only way to assuage my growing guilt about doing something so bad. And I knew, too, that even with the pain, even with how much it upset me to disappoint him, there was something that felt incredibly good about being punished by him. It reinforced the idea that I was his complete and total slave so very well.

"Have you forgotten who you belong to?" he asked. "Have you forgotten how everything about you is actually mine? Especially your cunt?"

"I know sir, I know! I know I belong to you!"

"Well if you know then you should also know damn well that you have no business putting yourself on display, unless I have given you explicit orders to do so. I have no idea what the fuck you could've been thinking."

"I don't know either, sir."

"You can't keep your filthy slutty urges under control on your own, can you? You would have sucked those men off if you could've. You'd offer your holes to any man that wanted them if you could."

"Yes sir," I replied, having no choice but to admit that that was certainly how I'd felt tonight at least.

"Well then, you're very lucky to have a strict Master to keep you under control, aren't you?"

"Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

My ass was so sore, and I was sure it must be very red by now. I hoped the sight was pleasing to him. I knew it made him angry and disappointed in me when I did something wrong, but I always hoped that, in the same way that having him punish me made me feel so much like his slave, being the one doing the punishing made him feel very much like my Master."

"I bet you wouldn't have just sucked their cocks. I bet you would've begged them to let you."

"Yes sir," I agreed, thinking back to how desperate I'd felt with their eyes on me.

"If I wanted to I could use you as a whore. I could let any man who wanted to pay me to use your holes."

"Yes sir," I said, holding myself back from admitting to him how much I would love it if he did just that (though I had a feeling he knew even without me saying it).

"I would lead you around on a leash, dressed just like this, and tell any man who said anything to us that they could use you for cheap. I would watch to make sure you did a very good job pleasing them. And afterwards I'd make you thank them for using you."

"Oh god that would feel so good, sir!" I exclaimed, unable to avoid admitting how much I would love it any longer.

"I know it would, because I know what a slut you are. And if I hadn't already you would've very much proven it today."

"Yes sir."

His hand was suddenly still. I was both relieved and disappointed to not feel the blows anymore, but I knew my ass would be quite sore for awhile yet.

He started stroking my ass. I whimpered. It took all my willpower to hold myself back from rubbing my pussy against him. I didn't expect him to fuck me considering how much trouble I was in, but I hoped desperately he was going to use me somehow now.

"Don't think your punishment is over, slave," he said. "I am going to give you a good, hard spanking every time I see you until I decide it's been enough, and I'll come up with something else to do as well."

"Yes sir. I know how much I need to be punished. Thank you sir."

He was still stroking my ass and it was getting more and more difficult to keep myself still. I knew fully well that it would just get me in even bigger trouble, but my pussy was aching so badly that I was still having a hard time resisting.

Suddenly he pushed me onto the floor. Not caring about the startling impact, I quickly arranged myself onto my knees, hoping this meant what I thought it did.

He unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his underwear down. He started stroking his cock, a sight which was always unbelievably sexy. Now I didn't care anymore about getting any attention for my pussy. I was still having to focus on restraining myself, but now it was from touching him. I knew I had to wait for him to tell me what to do, but I wanted his cock in my mouth so badly.

He was hard now, but he was still stroking himself rather than ordering me to do anything. God, I hoped he wasn't going to make me wait too long. He could be planning to not even let me suck him at all and just make watch him, which would be agonizing.

I was just on the verge of begging him to put his cock in my mouth, even though I knew the chances of having him listen were nonexistent until he was ready to, when he spoke.

"Like it, slut?"

"Yes sir. Of course."

"Want it in your mouth?"

"Please, sir."

His hands were on my head then, pulling me firmly onto him. But then, to my surprise, he removed them. He always was in full control  of the blowjobs I gave him, holding my head and pulling it up and down on his cock at the pace he wanted, so this was entirely unexpected.

"I'm going  to let you show me exactly how desperate you are to suck my cock this time," he explained. I loved it so much when he was fucking my mouth hard because it made me feel so submissive to him, but I had to admit the idea of showing him what a slut I was for him was very sexy too.

Still, being able to control the speed and depth was an entirely unfamiliar sensation, and it took me a couple of minutes to adjust to the feeling of it. I was worried that I wasn't going to do a good job for him. I always wanted to please his cock as well as I possibly could, and, with the trouble I was in, it seemed particularly important today.

After I spent a little while just working him in and out of my mouth, it occurred to me that there were other things I could do, things I'd never gotten to experience with him before. I slowly licked down the full length of him, becoming fully aware of how long he was as I did so. I was starting to think I could get used to this.

I started working him in and out of my mouth again.

"Take it deeper," he ordered. "As deep as you can. Show me exactly how good a cocksucker you can be."

I leaned further into him, managing, with not a little effort, to take his full considerable length into my mouth. He had given me the assignment some time ago to practice doing this with my dildo for fifteen minutes every day, and I had been gradually improving, but it still was never easy to fit all of him in, and I was proud of myself that I was able to do it.        

"Very good. I'm glad your daily practice is paying off, slave," he said. His praise of me, restrained and detached as it always was, still never failed to make me feel as if I were positively glowing. All I wanted to do was please him, and it was thrilling when he told me that I was.

I started to work his cock in and out more quickly now, taking all of him in without gagging at all. His thickness made the feeling of having him fill up my throat quite painful, but that just made it even more enjoyable for me.

"You love this, don't you?" he asked when I was taking a short break to breathe.

"Better than anything, sir," I replied honestly.

"Doesn't it feel better to be sucking the cock of your Master than those men on the subway?"

"Yes sir! So much better!" I said, having no idea now how I had ever even considered such a thing.

"That's because you're mine. You belong to me completely. Your entire reason for existence is to please me."

"I know, sir!" I exclaimed, so excited by the beautiful truth in his words that I couldn't stand to wait another moment to have his cock in my mouth again.

I was sucking him faster and faster. There was a part of me that wanted to make the experience last as long as I could, but that part was being drowned out by my intense craving to make him cum. Doing so always felt so much better than cumming myself possibly could (which was a good thing, considering how few and far between the times he allowed me to were).

He was always so detached and distant in all his dealings with me, and the times I sucked his cock were no exception. So there was nothing in his reactions to indicate that he was about to cum until there was that welcome feeling of his hands gripping my head and then, just a moment later, the ecstasy of his cum filling my mouth. There was not a single place in the world I would rather be than on my knees at his feet with his cock in my mouth, knowing I had given him the most intense pleasure there was. It made me feel like the luckiest girl in existence.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you for letting me please you so much!" I said after he had finished. It always seemed as if I were the one who enjoyed his orgasms the most. I knew he was the one actually getting the physical pleasure, but being able to be the one giving it to him made me happy in a way beyond what could be expressed with mere words.

"Made you feel good to please your Master, did it?" he asked.

"So so so good. Thank you, sir," I repeated.

I rested my head in his lap then, and for a few moments he let me. I felt so blessed in that moment. I felt so at home.

He wasn't saying anything, but I hoped being able to please him was enough to make him forgive me a little for how bad I'd been earlier. Still, I knew it was a major transgression, and I remembered what he'd said about needing to come up with a way to punish me further. Nervous as I was about what he was going to come up with, I was also grateful to have the opportunity for him to make me good again.

"I think it's time for bed now, slave," he said.

We walked to the bedroom (I followed just a bit behind him as I always did—I felt so subservient to him that way). He watched me silently as I removed the slutty outfit that had gotten me in so much trouble, and then he stripped down to his boxers. The sight of him nearly naked was enough to make me want his cock in my mouth again already, but I knew better than to ask.

He got into bed. I was just starting to pull the covers back to get in next to him when he spoke.

"I think you need to sleep at the foot of the bed tonight."

"Yes sir." He had never made me do that before. I must be in even bigger trouble than I'd thought.

I curled up at his feet. Not even being allowed to sleep next to him made me feel guilty about what I'd done, which must have been the point. But at the same time there was something about it that was comforting in a way. It made me feel so completely under his control, so completely like his property.

He woke up before me the next morning. It always took me a bit of time after I woke up to be ready to get out of bed, and I felt very lonely.

He smiled at me when I went to the kitchen for breakfast. With anyone else this would seem like a good sign, but with him I could never be sure if he was merely happy or if he had a particularly difficult task planned for me and was just looking forward to making me suffer through it.

I was getting nervous now, so I ate my breakfast quietly. I wanted to eat more slowly than usual to delay whatever punishment he had planned, but he would surely be able to tell if I were, and I didn't want to make him even more angry at me.

Finally I was finished. That smile again. Whatever he had in mind, it must be something wholly new. The ways he'd punished me before were always just not letting me cum for long periods, spankings, and, when I'd been particularly bad, pain brought on by something harsher. But he had never been so excited about any of those options before.

"While you were sleeping, I went to the store to get some things," he said.

"Sir?" My heart was beating quickly now, and there was definitely a fair bit of excitement mixed in with my nervousness.

"Follow me."

We walked to the living room, and he disappeared behind me.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered.

I obeyed him and, a moment later, I felt the unfamiliar sensation of leather against my left wrist. Cuffs? We'd never done any bondage at all, and this was startling. The idea had always scared me a little. Of course he was free to do absolutely anything he wanted to me no matter what, but the idea of being helpless and unable to defend myself in any way if I did want to overwhelmed me. Could I trust him?

He pulled the cuff tightly enough that it was just short of painful and did the same with my other wrist. A moment later, I heard a padlock closing.

I tugged my hands against the cuffs. I did not really expect to be able to move, but I needed to prove it to myself. He laughed at me.

"Don't bother, slave. You're definitely not going to be able to get out of them."

"Yes sir," I said in a very quiet voice that I could not recognize as my own. I still felt very anxious, but at the same time I felt a tingling across my skin and a growing, radiating warmth.

He started walking towards the other side of the room, and I followed him.

He stopped walking. Just ahead of him, I saw a leather collar attached by a leash to the radiator. So he was planning to make me really fully immobilized. I was even more nervous than I'd been before.

But what really drew my attention was what I saw just in front of it. There was a wooden post, and at the top of it, at an angle, there was a massive dildo. He was already quite large, but this thing must have a good three inches on him, and was as big around as my arm.

He walked over and picked up the collar.

"Come here, slave."

I did, trembling now. He fastened the collar around my neck. Like with the cuffs, he pulled it tightly enough that I was very much aware of its presence.

The leash was short enough that I had no choice but to take the dildo in my mouth. All of it.

Sucking my Master's cock made my mouth and throat feel full in a way I'd never experienced prior to being his property, but this was something else entirely. It felt as if, it were even a tiny bit longer or thicker, there would be no possible way it could fit. My practice with my dildo at home (and to think I'd actually thought that was big) was certainly coming in handy now. I knew I was very lucky to apparently have fully eliminated my gag reflex. But it was still incredibly uncomfortable, and I could tell already that it would not be long at all before it crossed the line into being painful.        

It only took a minute before I desperately needed to breathe. I knew there was only one way to accomplish this: standing up on my tiptoes. I did, discovering that doing so got me to the point of having the tip of the dildo in my mouth—just high enough to open my mouth enough to breathe, but not high enough to get it out entirely. I had to hand it to him, he had certainly planned this out well.

I went through the same cycle of having that gigantic thing fill up my throat completely, standing on my toes to pull much-needed air into my lungs, and then being filled again several more times. How long was he going to make me do this?

All the while, he was standing in front of me, silently surveying me without a trace of emotion in his eyes. He looked so entirely in control, so entirely powerful, and in spite of my growing discomfort I felt my pussy throbbing.

Finally he spoke.

"I'm going to let you keep having fun this way for an hour or so."

Oh god, an hour? It couldn't have been more than five minutes so far, but already my jaw, throat, and toes were hurting. Fun? That was how he was going to describe this? I knew he was being sarcastic, but I still had a quite inappropriate flare of anger in my head. I was almost grateful for the dildo then—if I'd been able to speak I might very well have given him an equally sarcastic reply.        

He watched me for a few minutes more, and then went to the other side of the room and sat down in the (very comfortable, I noted with jealousy) easy chair and began to read. Another flash of anger over the fact that he could be so casual when he was making me suffer this way.

I couldn't see a clock so I had no idea how much time was actually passing, but it certainly felt as if it were moving very, very slowly. My lower feet were in a good deal of pain now from the strain of standing up on my toes, but every time I adjusted myself to be standing flat again I was reminded that the pain of the huge dildo in my throat was just as bad. Then, on top of that, there was the matter of the strange sensation of having my hands bound and being attached to the radiator, a combination that allowed me no freedom of movement beyond that dance between strained toes and full throat. I felt so entirely helpless, and I couldn't even speak to tell him how difficult this was (not that I actually expected it to do any good if I could have).

He put down his book and approached me again. He was standing with his hands behind his back, but while that position made me entirely helpless, it just made him look even more commanding.

"Half an hour to go," he said. My heart sank. I couldn't believe I was still only halfway done. I had no idea how I was going to endure, but what choice did I have?

"Don't forget why you're being punished. This is what happens to dirty little cocksluts who are ready to let strangers on the subway fuck their mouths—they're forced to suck cocks for a good long while." I knew he was right, I knew this was my own damn fault, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.

He returned to his chair and his book, leaving me alone with my alternating pain and my thoughts, which were suddenly going down a very different track.

I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said, repeating it to myself again and again. I'd known all along, of course, that this was a punishment, but hearing him say it out loud made me have no choice but to fully focus on that fact. And yes, that certainly made me feel guilty. But it also reminded so clearly exactly what I was—his. His to punish, his to control, his to use. His.

The pain was continuing to get worse and worse with every minute that passed. But once I got into the proper mindset, once I saw with perfect clarity that I was really and truly his slave, it got easier to handle. In fact, it almost became enjoyable.

Still, I was plenty relieved when he approached me again and removed the collar, allowing me to get that goddamn dildo out of my mouth at last.

I sank to my knees at his feet. I was so thoroughly exhausted and sore that I couldn't bear to stand anymore. But even more than that I wanted to immediately put myself in the most subservient position I could, to show him that I understood exactly how things were.

"Well. Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. How are you feeling now?"

"Very sore and very tired," I admitted. "But also grateful. Thank you, sir. Thank you for punishing me so I can be good for you again. Thank you for showing me how much I belong to you."

"You are quite welcome. That is the most important thing in the world for you to understand, so I'm glad this helped make it clear to you."

"I'm also feeling...really turned on," I said hopefully. Was it possible that he was that he was so pleased with what I'd just told him that he would actually let me feel good?

"Yes, well, I suppose there is no possible punishment that would actually cure your insatiable sluttiness. But I'm afraid you're not going to get to do anything about that today."

"Yes sir." I nuzzled my head against his knee, feeling more like his than ever.