Discipline As he lay across the footstool relaxing after servicing Mistress, he felt totally relaxed and happy. The room was dark except for two candles burning dimly across the room. Mistress stood, and said “don’t move, stay right where you are.” “Yes Mistress” came his reply. He wondered in his mind what was happening. Mistress usually had plans when she made a statement like that. Time seemed to slow almost to a stop while he waited patiently, unable to see the hallway she went down toward the bedroom. What could she be doing for so long he wondered? Soon enough he heard her footsteps approaching. He sensed her behind him, and then felt her slipping the blindfold over his eyes. God, he loved the feeling of the darkness. It heightened his senses so. Mistress wanted to play it seemed. He had not been under her crop for a while, and anxiously awaited the painful pleasures to come. He knew he was not in trouble, and had committed no infractions. Mistress’ favorite saying is “Discipline renders punishment unnecessary.” He knew she was going to hurt him for her pleasure as much as for his. And, he wanted it. She is a master with her tools and knows every inch of his body and how to take him on that wonderful journey.
Slap! Her hand came down upon his ass, spreading a lovely warmth through his skin. Again, her hand slapped his other cheek. She knew how to warm him up and ease him into the pain he would soon experience. Serious pain! Again and again her blows rained down on him, each harder than the last. The glow was spreading through him, a stinging glow that began to build slowly. As he anticipated the next hit, it didn’t come, instead, she caressed his skin softly and lovingly. The change nurtured him and made him feel loved. Then, suddenly, he heard the swish and felt the intense burn of the crop on his skin. Mistress had picked it up with her other hand while caressing him. It was unexpected and wonderful at the same time. The blows started to speed up, he felt his skin burning and was approaching a threshold of tolerance. Just as he thought he could take no more, she stopped and stroked his skin, and used her nails to tease his skin more. God, she knew exactly how to play him and how to use him. “How are you pet?” she whispered in his ear, in a voice dripping with sensuality. “Wonderful Mistress, thank you for your love.” She kissed his ear, her tongue teasing him and tantalizing him. He was in heaven, she was moving his mind to new places.
She reached down and picked up his favorite tool, a cat with long, stiff harsh tails. They left such lovely marks and were capable of splitting his skin should she choose. She loved using it and seeing the welts rise. As he lie there anxious and wondering what was next, she started to stroke him lightly, letting the tails trail over his hot flesh. He tensed momentarily, knowing what was to come. He knew it would hurt, and it would hurt badly, but he craved it like a drug, and he needed a fix. He would not wait long. The tails trailed across him, weaving their sensuous spell over him. Suddenly, without warning, the left his skin, then, a second later, the first of hundreds of blows came down on him, biting into his flesh. He winced, groaned, and tensed up his cheeks. She waited a second, and he relaxed again, then, slap! Again and again the tails came down in varying degrees of strength. She was playing her instrument, him. His skin felt as though it were igniting with flames, but he stayed in place, not moving. He could not disappoint her or interrupt her pleasure. She stopped, surveying the lines of her art on his skin. It was welting nicely, she thought. Again, stroked and caressed his skin, her hand slipping between his legs and fondling his erotic center. She was an expert, and knew just how to peak his experience. Her hands left him, and again the tails came down, harder and harder, across one side then the other. As he approached tears, the blows moved to his back, stinging him with their bite. He arched, and groaned, she was into the scene now, her eyes glazing, her passion rising. Pain was her pleasure, and she loved applying it to her submissive. She knew he would take whatever she gave him. As she struck him, she loved seeing his body bend and twist, in a vain attempt to avoid them. He would not rise though, and she knew this. Could she take him to the safe word? Perhaps, but she secretly hoped he would not use it and end the fun. She was growing moist. She truly loved doing this. The sound of each stroke landing on his flesh, was like an electrical shot to her clitoris. Her heat was rising and she knew she would need satisfaction again when it was over.
The cat rained down upon him for an hour, his flesh on the verge of bleeding. She stopped and stroked him lightly, feeling the welts that had risen from his skin. Covering his back and ass, it was beautiful. Already, the entire areas of his rear was covered in bruises and was hot to the touch. Even now, through the welts and bruises, she could still see the two symbols she had placed on his skin previously. Each cheek had a large capital S burned into it symbolizing his station with her as her slave slut. They were not as prominent now she thought. It had been two weeks since she used her cigarette to burn the letters into his flesh. It was not a sadistic wish of hers she had forced on him though. He had requested the marks as a symbol of his devotion to her and to his position. Who was she to deny him this pleasure? An evil grin spread across her lips. I think he has had enough for tonight she thought. She left momentarily and entered the kitchen. In the distance, he heard the icemaker grinding and dispensing cubes. Soon, she returned, and he felt her spreading the ice across his ass, easing the burn. Ah, that feel so good he thought. The ice melted quickly, dripping water down his thighs and into his crevice. He mewled in pleasure. She did this so well. She knew just how far to go and just how to bring him back. When she ice was gone, removed his blindfold, reclined in her chair and motioned for him to come to her. He knew she wanted to hold him. She always liked to hold each other and spread the feeling of love to her submissive to bring him down from sub space slowly. He held her and, looking into her eyes, said, “I love you so much Mistress, thank you.” “I love you too pet.” She said.
Your marks look nice, but the right one is more prominent than the left. They will need to be touched up next week. Hearing this, he knew what he needed. Slipping back to his position at his feet, he bent forward and kissed each of her feet. “Mistress, please, may we touch it up now?” “Are you sure you want that now?” “Yes, please Mistress, please touch it up for me.” “Alright”, she said. “Assume your position.” He leaned over the footstool again and looked up at her. She lit her cigarette and teased him by leisurely inhaling and blowing the smoke at him. He did love when she did that. She moved behind him and told him to stroke himself as she did it. He began to stroke himself, getting hard, knowing what was coming. “Do not cum until I say.” She said. “Yes Mistress.” As he stroked himself, he felt her hand on his ass, knowing the burn he would soon experience. And it came, that sudden, intense, burn lasting a fraction of a second each time. She began to trace the shape of the letter already embedded in his skin. Time and time again she would touch her cigarette to his flesh, delighting in seeing the mark it left and the delightful way he would jerk and moan each time.
Each time the hot coal of her cigarette touched, he felt his cock twitch with the need for release. She began to touch him again and again, each touch coming quicker than the last. It was intense, and the pain was almost unbearable, but the need to cum was rising higher and higher in him. “Do you want to cum slut?” “God, yes Mistress please.” “Not yet.” He felt the cigarette touch him over and over, tracing the letter back and forth. This time, she thought, it will not fade so quickly. He will bear this mark for a long time to come. When the letter was to her satisfaction, she took a long deep drag on her cigarette, leaned forward, and blew the smoke in his face. “Cum for me slut!” As she said this, she touched her cigarette to his skin again, and he could no longer contain his passion. His cock erupted, spurt after spurt splashing into his free hand. He knew she would make him eat it when she was done, but he didn’t care. He had to have this release. It was the most incredible orgasm he had ever experienced. His hand slowed then stopped stroking, squeezing out the last drop into his palm. He collapsed momentarily on the stool. “Good girl slut.” “Clean up your mess.” Slowly, he brought his hand to his mouth and licked the cream from there. He took pleasure in this knowing how it excited her. When all the love juice was gone from his hand, she pulled him to her again, stroking his hair, and kissing his forehead as she cradled him lovingly in her arms. He was in love. She was so perfect for him, how could it be better than this? As his breathing returned to normal, he could still the glow of bliss on her face. She had not yet returned from Domme Space. He knew she was in the same state of trance that he had been in moments earlier. Then, she spread her thighs and patted her shrine…
He knew what she needed then.
– amber –
