Page 84 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

If Clay had asked me right then to be his I would have agreed, even though that was not a good idea. I’d talked to enough people to know that it took months of scenes inside of the lifestyle and time outside to really get to know your partner. And I would remind myself of that after tonight, but right now, I was excited about getting lost in subspace, lost in a world that was regulated by physical responses.

He was a Master, and I didn’t mean by title alone. Clay was masterful in what he did and tuned into me. That connection I’d never felt before, but then I’d never played with anyone with even half the experience he had.

“Then let’s begin.”

Oh man, I felt the same scary thrill that I did just before the roller coaster zoomed down from its highest peak.

Clay unbound me from the bench, which surprised me. If I was being spanked, wasn’t it the perfect position? He led me over to an apparatus like a swing. He moved me this way and that, attaching thick straps to my thighs and a harness around my middle. When I was secure, he pressed a button on a control box and I started rising off the floor, and as I rose, my thighs drew apart. The chest harness made sense as he then tipped me forward so my ass was on full display. My breasts hung between the center support of the harness, and he cuffed my wrists to thick chains that hung down on either side.

I was weightless and completely vulnerable, and the thrill shot down my spine. My already pointed nipples turned into hardened peaks I was sure could cut glass. This was so hot, but not knowing what came next was killing me.

Clay removed the plug and then inserted a larger one. I couldn’t even deny him entry in this position. He rolled over a machine and stood it directly beneath me. He tested the fuck machine. I felt a nudge against my opening but no penetration and wondered what this was all about.

Then he moved over to a cabinet and opened it to expose a host of implements. I gulped as he moved away from anything resembling leather and moved into the paddles and canes. Me and my big mouth. I should have lied.

He grabbed several items and then came to stand behind me.

“Ready?”

I was about to say no when the paddle came down on my ass. The sting differed completely from the last one he’d used on the bench, and I could only determine it was made of a different material. Instead of the heavy thud, this was more of a heated sting, and I instantly hated whatever it was.

The paddle came down again, and I cried out. The dildo hit my slick puffy lips, and I waited to see if I would get any sort of much-needed penetration. But no. Like the test, it only barely parted my folds before retracting.

The paddle came down again, and by the tenth stroke, I was blubbering all sorts of nonsense, but the paddle continued to fall. I struggled in my bonds, trying to get away from the relentless sting being delivered to my backside, but nothing I did ended the torture. I wiggled and squeezed, but nothing helped, and on top of that, the dildo was driving me crazy with need.

As the heat continued to rain down on my unprotected backside, the burn moved and shifted, torturing me on the inside as much as the outside. I needed an orgasm pronto, but that would be considered a reward and I had been naughty.

This is punishment, Mel, snap out of it!

Then it stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Clay’s hand roamed over my ass, sending heated sparks of pain and pleasure deep inside of me. I moaned aloud.

“You have the most beautifully painted ass. But it needs strokes from something else to really bring home the point of all of this, don’t you think?”

No way was I going to fall for that again. I replied with the only right answer there was for my situation. “Yes, Master.”

“Good girl,” he crooned. He ran his hands under the support and cupped my breasts. He thrummed my nipples and oh, how they wanted him to tweak and twist them. Every nerve in my body was alive and on fire. Yet my ass was aching and hot, and not just my ass, all of me yearned for release. Just one little orgasm, I silently begged. But he released my breasts before I could garner any satisfaction.

Bastard, he had to know how turned on I was. Didn’t that work the other way too? Wouldn’t he be as turned on as me? How did people scene and not have sex afterward? I wanted to cry out and scream at the unfairness of it all. It was pure torture.

Duh, that is exactly what it is. What part of punishment did you not hear?

This was it, the real deal with a fully matured Master, holy crap snacks! It was not like anyone had described, but I now recognized everything he was doing… orgasm denial while he teased and whipped me. In my head, it sounded so hot, and my body responded intrinsically.

A line of fire drew me out of my thoughts and back into my body. “Ow!”

Another stipe perfectly placed under the first and dangerously close to the dildo lit a new fire in my ass and my desperate actions to escape. Flight or fight took over, and I was gone in a wash of sensations my receptors were having trouble keeping up with.

The next lash landed across the anal plug base. The impact shifted the plug inside of me just as the dildo penetrated my outer lips. I focused on that while my hands gripped the chains my cuffs were attached to. Somehow holding them grounded me and so did the alternating sensations that were driving me closer to the edge of the knife.

Shift, breach, whip. The physical dance between the sensations was hypnotic. Everything else disappeared. Doubt, questions, and what-ifs vanished. Even my cacophony of mewls, groans and yelps was mesmerizing. By letting go, I descended into subspace and was able to brace for the delivery much easier than when I was struggling to accept the strokes of discipline prior to the plunge.

I floated there for an unknown amount of time, adrift in a myriad of pain and pleasure feels that built an inferno inside of me.

“Time to take it up a notch, little one,” was whispered close to my ear. My only response was to whimper. The plug was tugged out of my burning backside, leaving me feeling empty. The dildo was shut off and there were no more partial breaches to focus on.

“These last twenty will be fully felt with no more distractions. After each stroke you will answer, ‘I am sorry, Master Clay, for my naughty behavior’.”

I should have been prepared for what happened next, but when the lash landed, it covered almost my entire backside with a penetrating heat that took my breath away. I clenched the chains tightly and said the required words.

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