T he tension between them was almost visible. That’s the key word, though. Almost. She actually looked like she was having a great time, laughing, joking with their friends, avoiding his gaze. He, on the other hand, was unusually quiet, smiled at their jokes, looked self-assured, but not thoroughly enjoying himself. They both knew why. She was out of line. Way out.

Their friends had called ahead, announcing that they’d be there to pick them up five minutes later. That’s when she’d started with her attitude. She’d pulled out an issue from the past that she knew was a weakness of his, and attacked. He’d tried to talk to her, told her to hush, and to stand still, but she’d said “do you mind, i still need to do my eyes, and they’ll be here in a second,” as she brushed past him into the bathroom. He’d warned her, and her defiant response as the doorbell rang had been “What are You going to do about it? They’re here now, and i’m leaving tomorrow afternoon.” With that she’d opened the door with a bright smile on her face. “Hello, great to see you… i’m ready, just waiting on Ethan, as usual.” The predictable giggles had followed, and he had slipped his shoes on, glanced briefly in the mirror, and joined the group by the door with a reserved smile as they headed out on the town.

He sat back and looked at her where she sat, smoking a cigarette she hadn’t asked for his permission to smoke, the centre of attention, telling a story of how she’d wrapped all the guys around her fingers back when she was younger – and how she still did, when she wanted to. It was true. She was beautiful, and though she didn’t admit to it, she knew it. More importantly, she had a radiance about her that somehow made any room she walked into seem to brighten up a little, and brought a smile to people’s faces. She’d had men crawling at her feet all her life. That’s why she was with him. He’d made her crawl at his.

She was scared. She wasn’t used to the feeling. Her defence mechanisms had kicked in, and she’d attacked when she knew he couldn’t deal with it – shut him out as they headed out into public. She was laughing again now, drinking heavily, making sarcastic comments at him, laughing the hardest at cracks aimed at him, and her enjoyment seemed thorough. He knew better. He could see the walls she’d erected around her soul, hidden behind her façade of happiness. They weighed heavy on her now, heavier than usual, because with him, for the first time in her life, she’d known life without them. He knew that within twelve hours, she’d be lying in his arms, crying, regretting her behaviour, begging for his forgiveness. And though she’d never admit to it, she knew it too. She continued avoiding his gaze.

The rest of the night proceeded in a predictable pattern. Under other circumstances it could have been great fun. As the night wound on he gradually took control. He joined in the conversation more actively, got her under control with a warning look here and there, and started ordering her diet cokes instead of the caipirinhas she’d been drinking. She responded, started softening, stopped her provocative comments, flashing the occasional worried look in his direction, smoothening the situation, anticipating being alone with him again back at home, and having to make everything alright again. But he’d made a decision. Not this time. She’d remember this night for a long time. 

As they left the bar, one of their friends suggested going to a club. A squeeze of her arm stopped her likely enthusiastic-sounding response before it came out, instead his calm voice declared: “No, we’ll be heading home now, krystynn’s feeling really tired.” A second squeeze of her arm made sure that the pause that followed before she agreed with him, saying that she really needed to go home, was only slightly too long. 

As he hailed down a taxi, though, she resumed her defiant poise. She realized that he’d taken back control over her, even as they were still in public, but she wasn’t planning to give this one in without a fight. The taxi ride was passed in silence, sobering after the loud bar environment. She sat as far away from him as she could, clutching against the car’s back door, while he sat in his seat, relaxed, feeling no need to initiate conversation. No words were spoken between them as they entered the apartment. He headed straight to the bedroom, returning with a heavy flogger in his hand as she passed by, cigarette in hand, heading to the balcony to smoke. A hard swing of the flogger caught the back of her thighs, catching her completely by surprise. She turned around, the look on her face a mixture of shock and anger, and her lips started to form words of protest. The second blow caught her left hand, knocking the lighter from it and utterly destroying the unlit cigarette it held. The words on her lips died out, and she backed up slightly, shocked at the angered expression on his face. “Did I say you could smoke, krystynn?” She started to protest: “I was gonna…”, when a third blow caught the side of her thigh, wrapping around to the back. “Did I ever allow you to smoke tonight, krystynn?” Flustered, she feebly started to look for a way out. “No, but I thought, in public…” WHACK! This time, the hardest blow yet hit her ass, some of the strands stopping on her hand, with which she had tried to fend the blow. “Did I, krystynn?” 

A pause followed. Finally, her whispered response was “No.” He was next to her in a flash, his right hand grabbing a handful of her hair, pulling her head back, and forcing her to look him in the eyes, only inches away. She cringed underneath his body, as he said in a stern voice: “No what, krystynn?” “No, Master”, she whispered quickly. “That’s right, krystynn.” He pushed her head forward and down, and dragged her with him into the bedroom by the hair. He brought her to the middle of the floor, pushing her head down until she was doubled over, and told her to grab her ankles. She spread her legs and reached her hands down to below her knees. He reached underneath her short black dress and pulled her stockings and panties down to her ankles, forcing her feet back together. He then pulled her dress up to her shoulders with his left hand, leaving her bare bottom exposed, and even before letting go of her dress brought down the flogger on her ass. He took a step backwards, and the next blow was harder, making her stumble on her high heels, held together by the stockings and panties around her ankles. She didn’t make a sound, though, refusing to give in, refusing to surrender, and made a point of flashing him a defiant look. He smiled to himself. “Really, now? We’ll see.”

WHACK! Sounded the next blow, followed by his voice. “I said ankles, not calves, krystynn,” and a lesser lash caught her hands where they had settled, just below her knees. She pushed her hands down to her ankles immediately, struggling to keep her balance in the awkward position as the whip lashed down on her ass over and over again. She began to rise up from her position, protesting: “I can’t…”, but the next blow reminded her that he had plenty of strength in reserve, and she dropped down again.
“Don’t push me, krystynn.”
She responded, her voice breaking up now, almost pleading: “But…but… I’m gonna fall, Master.”
He’d already thought of this. “Then you tell me from there, slave.”
“Yes Master,” she managed to whisper out between her clenched teeth as the next blow hit her. “Lean your side up against the wardrobe to support yourself.” 

He continued to rain the blows on her bottom, sometimes moving down to her thighs, sometimes up to her back. Her ass had turned a fiery red colour, bearing witness to the treatment it hat gotten. Each time she moved he hit her twice as hard, making her adjust her position. She was sobbing, struggling to keep standing, keep her ass up in the air and her hands on her ankles, exhausted. She was pleading now, begging for his forgiveness, promising him anything. He paused.

 “Take your clothes off, and crawl to me, bitch.”

She hurriedly complied, sobbing as she crawled to his feet where he had sat down on the bed, her head lowered, her face hidden behind her hair. She lowered her shivering body at his feet, clinging to his ankles, waiting for him to speak.

“Are you proud of yourself, krystynn?”
“No, Master.”
“Did you deserve the beating you just got?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you think it’ll help you remember to be a good girl, krystynn?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you think you’ve had enough, krystynn?”
“Yes Master, this girl will try to be a good girl now.”
“Wrong, krystynn.”

Her eyes lit up in surprise, and she lifted her face to look at her Master. He stared her directly in the eyes, and she quickly lowered her head again.

 “What I just did was to break you, krystynn. I needed to whip the bitchiness out of you, and bring you back to being the submissive you’re supposed to be. I’ve yet to punish you.”

 Her grip on his ankles tightened, and she started her pleading. “No, please, Master, I’ll be a good girl, I promise, I’ll…”
Ignoring her pleas, he continued with a stern voice. “Is that understood, krystynn?”
She quieted down for a short while, before giving the inevitable response: “Yes, Master.”
“Go to the bag of toys, and bring Me the handcuffs, the blindfold, the ball gag and the crop.”
“Yes, Master.”

He watched as she did as she was ordered. She gathered the items he had requested in her hands, except for the dreaded crop, which she brought to him in her mouth, knowing that she was not allowed to touch the disciplinary tools with her hands. She came back to kneel before him, lowered her eyes, and held the toys high above her head in her open palms, offering them to him in silence. He left her there for a while, reaching over to the bedside table for her collar, which he fastened around her neck. He then took the blindfold, carefully placing it over her eyes to make sure she couldn’t see even the slightest bit. He took the crop from between her lips, resting it against the wall, and pushed the ball gag into her unresisting mouth, securing it behind her head. Next, he took the handcuffs from her hands, ordered he to turn around and fastened her wrists behind her back. Finally, he made her turn around to face him again, produced her leash from the bedside drawer, and fastened it to her collar. He admired her for a brief second, naked, gagged and blindfolded, her hands cuffed behind her back, and collared at the end of the leash he held in his hand. She was completely at his mercy, and he knew there was not a place in the world she would rather be at that moment.

“Get up,” he ordered. He ran her through the hand signals that were her safewords now that she was gagged, then gave a tug at her leash to make her follow behind him into the living room. Once there, he lifted her up and sat her down on the small, circular dining room table. On instinct she immediately pulled her knees up to her chest, covering her breasts and her sex. He adjusted her position so that she was leaning back, her bound arms supporting her weight, and a couple of quick slaps with the crop made sure her knees were as far apart as she could get them. 

“You are on the dining room table, krystynn. It is small – so small that if you move even a few inches in any direction, you’ll be in danger of falling off. You will not move. You will keep your feet on the table, your knees far apart, and you will lean back on your arms, exposing yourself to me completely. I will let you keep your ass on the table for now, but if I say the word, you will lift it off, and support your weight with your hands and feet. Is that understood, krystynn?” 

A nod and a moan was what he got in agreement. He stood there in silence for a while, watching her body tense with anticipation of what was to come. He lightly slapped her left breast with the crop, making her body jump, then came a much harder blow to the inside of her thigh. She moaned, but struggled to be still as she’d been ordered. He continued, hitting a new spot with each stinging blow, alternating the rhythm to heighten her level of anticipation, occasionally kissing or biting her body, keeping her guessing. He got an ice cube and teased her with it, rolling it around her nipple to make it even more erect, then removing the ice cube and slapping her nipple with the crop. She thrashed around with pain, struggling to keep her position. Occasionally she would clench her legs together on instinct, but soon regretted it as hard slaps of the crop made sure that she was quick to correct her position. Her sex was dripping now, despite his efforts to make sure the blows were painful enough for her to remember that she was being punished, not pleased. He stuck his hand out, and grabbed her roughly between the legs. 

“You’re soaking wet, krystynn. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She stiffened for a second, as if to search for the right answer, then shook her head.
"Are you being pleasured, krystynn?"
She shook her head quickly.
"You’re being punished, aren’t you?"
She nodded.
"Well, obviously I haven’t been hard enough on you, since you’re enjoying it so much, have I?"

She gasped, and moaned in desperation, sobbing as she tried to tell him through the ball gag that yes, he had been hard enough, that she couldn’t control her body, that she’d learned her lesson, and so forth, letting out a series of muffled moans. He knew what they meant. He also knew she was right- her whole body was aching, he had been hard on her, and given her very little physical pleasure. She was aroused from the mental state of being completely helpless, completely at his mercy – it was how she felt most natural, most complete. But tonight she was getting punished.

 “Lift your ass off the table, krystynn. Higher – I am going to put this ice cube in your belly button, and I expect you to keep it there. When it melts, I will stop beating you. If you drop it, I might have to put a new one there.”

 She struggled to lift her self off the table, already physically and mentally exhausted, her arms in particular wouldn’t be able to keep that position long. But he watched with admiration as she tried, her body shaking as she did, and he placed the partially melted ice cube in her belly button – an icy reminder of her impossible task. She sobbed, then jumped in agony as a quick flick of the crop hit her exposed clit. He watched her strained, shivering body, and decided to take pity in her.

"Lower yourself to your elbows, krystynn. You’re a good girl for not dropping the ice cube."

A sigh of relief followed his command, and upon hearing the words "good girl", her body relaxed visibly. But he wasn’t through with her. Multiple flicks of the crop hit her sex, sending intense waves of pain and pleasure through her body. She moaned loudly, not knowing if the excruciating feeling was from pleasure or pain, and started twisting her body away – causing him to remind her of the ice cube, which made her stop. He continued slapping her pussy with the crop for what seemed forever, then moved to her nipples, and repeated the procedure, harder still. When the ice cube had melted in her belly button, her ass had dropped to the table, and one leg was swinging over the edge. Her moans had stopped, and she was quiet. Her body was completely exhausted, tender, surrendered.

 He pulled her off the table, released her hands from behind her back and secured them again in front, not because there was any need to, but because he knew it made her feel comfortable. He removed the ball gag from her mouth and the blindfold from her eyes, and picked her up in his arms to carry her to the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered to him: “Thank you Master, for punishing this slave when she was bad.”

 He laid her on the bed in a sitting position, and gave her a passionate kiss, causing a return of life to her body. He went to the kitchen and got her a glass of water to drink, then sat on the bed next to her and played with her nipples as she drank. She put the glass away, turned to him and clutched to his body, and they lay there together for a while, him holding her tightly and comforting her, her resting her head on his chest, needing to feel his closeness. He rubbed her sore ass, breasts, and thighs, soothing the aches. He asked her what she had learned that night, and she told him that she’d learned never to be bitchy or try to embarrass him in public again, or to try to use the fact they were in public and he couldn’t punish her to get away with being a brat. He told her to remember that, because it was definitely not a good idea to make that same mistake again – causing her to swallow hard, agreeing. They lay there in silence for a while. She snuggled ever closer to him, and before long she was wrapping her legs around his, and kissing him passionately. He grabbed the chain of her handcuffs, and pulled them over her head, pushing her on her back and rising up on his elbow to lean over her.

"Do you feel better, my girl?"
"Yes Master," she said softly.
"Are you ready to go to bed?"
"No Master," she responded, pleading.
He ran his right hand down between her legs, which spread automatically to allow him access.
"Why not, my slave?"
"Because, I want you," she said, gasping from his touch.
"You want me? What do you mean?"
"I want you to make me yours, Master."
"You are mine, slave."
He knew exactly what she wanted to say, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with skirting around the issue, and she realised it. He enjoyed watching her struggle within herself, her modesty outmatched by her desire, her longing for him. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it out.
"Please fuck me, Master".
He pushed two fingers into her pussy as she said it, and she gasped.
"You would like me to fuck you, krystynn?"
"Yes Master, please do."
"Would that give you pleasure, krystynn?"
"Yes Master, it would," she moaned.
"Do you deserve to be pleasured after how you acted tonight, krystynn?"
She thought about it for a second, then lowered her eyes, and whispered in a resigned voice: “No, Master.”

 He let the words linger in the air for a few seconds, repeating them to her. “No, Master.” “You deserve to be punished, not pleased, don’t you,” he said matter-of-factly as he withdrew his hand from between her legs.

 “No, but...” she protested desperately, wanting to hang on to the overwhelming sensations she had felt from his hand between her legs. “But…you’ll get pleasure from it too, Master,” she tried.

 “That’s true,” he responded. After a brief pause he grabbed her by the hair in his left hand and pushed her down towards his cock. “Suck my dick while I think about it.” She smiled to herself, thinking how she could still get to him, and enthusiastically started working on his cock, trying hard to please him so that he might take pity in her. He buried his hands in her hair, controlling her rhythm and how deep she took him, fucking her willing mouth, using her for his pleasure. Soon it was his turn to let out sighs. He continued using her mouth for a full ten minutes, building up the desire in his body, enjoying the heavenly sensations his slave’s mouth provided him. Finally, he made her stop, and pulled her up to lie on her stomach next to him. He leaned over to her, and whispered in her ear: “I’ve decided I am gonna fuck you,” sending shivers down her spine. He rolled over on top of her, pinning her down underneath his body, and his left hand grabbed the chain of her handcuffs, immobilizing her completely. He pushed her legs apart with his knees, felt her slit to find that it was still soaking wet, and slowly slid his cock inside her, burying it to the hilt. He whispered in her ear “Do you like that, slave?” Her reply was a prolonged “Yeyeeesss”. He slowly pulled out of her again, his right hand running his cock up and down her slit, teasing her and lubricating him. He positioned himself at her opening, leaving her to anticipate his re-entrance. Then he suddenly moved his cock up to her ass, pushing the head of his cock inside her tight hole in one motion, to her protests.

 “Nooo, Master, please, not there…”
He reached up with his right hand, and grabbed her throat, holding her tight as he spoke into her ear.
“I told you I was going to fuck you, krystynn… you even asked me to.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean there…”
“Do you deserve to get pleasured tonight?”
He pushed himself deeper inside her ass, making her forget her reply.
“Do you, krystynn?”
“No, Master,” she gasped faintly.
“Are you here for my pleasure or yours, krystynn?”
“Yours, Master.”
“Are you happy that I’ve chosen to take pleasure in you, krystynn?”
“Yes, Master,” she sobbed, meaning what she said, and feeling the pain beginning to give way to pleasure, as he worked his cock inside her ass. The strokes became longer and smoother, deeper and more rhythmic, as her insides adjusted to his intruding cock. He clutched her body, one hand on her throat and one on her shoulder, pulling her to him, pushing himself ever deeper inside of her. His strokes were angry, as he released the night’s frustrations, taking them out on her as he fucked her ass. He thought of the bitch she had been, the bitch he had had to break down into a good little slave. He knew she would think again before displeasing him like she had that night. She was moaning now, her enjoyment building like he had known it would, not the multiple orgasms she experienced when he wanted her to, but a slower, building climax that would leave her body shaking for a long time – if he allowed her to come. The resistance was much lesser now, she felt tight around his cock, to be sure, but he was no longer fighting to push inside her, but sliding deep within her and out again with each stroke. He could feel the beginnings of his climax, but he forced it away, alternating his rhythm. He was going to enjoy this a little bit longer. He rolled on his left side, taking her with him. He put his left hand on her throat now, the right one going to her mouth for her to wet his fingers, then down to her clit. He buried his cock all the way into her and stayed there, instead playing with her clit, and feeling her body shake as a result. He started fucking her again, and before long she had started moaning, pushing against him, and tensing up. He increased his rhythm, aiming to keep up with her.

 Soon, as he had known, she was crying out to him “Master, I need to come.” He stopped immediately.
“Beg for it, krystynn.”
“Please Master, please may this girl cum, please Master.”

 He waited, not moving, feeling her hopeful but fearful anticipation, knowing she was ready to beg, cry, crawl, do whatever was his will to please him. “Yes you may, my girl,” he said, fucking her hard again, rolling back on top of her and pinning her underneath him, completely letting all control go to the wind, looking only for release, as he knew she was. He fucked her now, but no longer out of anger, all that was left was passion. He felt her climax start underneath him, as her body started to shake uncontrollably, and felt himself pass the point where he no longer could hold back his climax, not caring in the least, wanting only to pump her full of his come. She was still shaking from her orgasm as his came, wave after wave of intense pleasure, and he clutched to her body as he sprayed his load deep inside of her. 

They lay there, motionless, for a long time. Eventually he managed to roll off her, instead pulling her to him, and ducking underneath the chain of her handcuffs, so she could wrap her arms around him.
“Why do you think I let you come, krystynn?” he whispered to her.
She hesitated, not knowing what to say. “I don’t know… why, Master?”
“Because you were a good girl to take all your punishment without complaining… much.”
Her face lit up. “I was a good girl?”
“Yes, krystynn.”
“Thank you, Master!”BR> “You’re welcome, my girl… you earned it, though only after you earned all that punishment in the first place.”
She contemplated that for a while, in silence.
“I love you Master”
“I love you, My girl.”
They cuddled together for a while, exhausted, but relaxed. Finally, sensing sleep approaching, he broke the silence.
“You’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight, krystynn, so that you remember how bad you were.”
“Yes Master”, she said in a disappointed voice. “May I smoke, please?”
“No, krystynn. That is your punishment for never once asking permission to smoke this whole night.”
She opened her mouth to protest, shocked, but then thought better of it, having just been praised for accepting her punishment without complaint, and not wanting to remind him of his disappointment with her earlier that evening. She answered him instead the way she knew would please him, a sincerely submissive “yes Master.”
He rolled out a blanket for her on the floor, handed her a pillow, and looped her leash around the leg of the bed before attaching it to her collar. He then covered her with the blanket, and kissed her warmly on the forehead. “Good night my girl,” he said as he crawled under his own covers. “Good night, Master,” she answered, looking up at him with loving, admiring eyes. He fell asleep before her, and she listened lovingly to his deep breathing. She drifted away, lost in her loving thoughts, determined never to displease him like that again.