My Lord disciplines me regularly. I have a smart mouth and a stubborn streak about the width of a five lane highway. I truly want to curb these tendencies, and so He is very strict with me. Last night, for instance, He asked me a question and I gave a flippant answer. I ignored His warning look. He asked what I did all day (He was just curious, not invasive) and I answered with: What difference does it make?
Yep. That did it. We have rules, and one of is that I will answer his questions honestly and in a respectful tone of voice. I always have the option of saying “I’d rather not answer” and he will leave it at that. Did I do that? No, of course not. Another rule we have is that He doesn’t wait to discipline me. He does it immediately, even if we are in public. Thankfully, we were at home this time – in our front room.
He will often spank me with whatever he has available. His belt, a rolled up magazine, his hand, a wooden spoon. In anticipation of my poor behavior, My Lord has prepared and placed various implements in discrete locations in every room of our home. A variety of wooden spoons in a kitchen cabinet, a cane leaning against the fireplace. bursa escort Tonight, though, He is satisfied with His hand. Oh, and did I mention I must be nude during all discipline sessions? Or as close to nude as possible if it is in public (Yes, He has pulled my skirt up, lowered my drawers and spanked me on a park bench before.)
Tonight He shows no mercy aside from warming up my bottom before the real spanking begins. Twenty swats – ten on each cheek and I’m crying, weeping, begging forgiveness. Finally he stops, rubs my bottom but tells me He has a special corner time planned for me. I nod, but I’m not nervous. Standing in a corner? big deal. I’m not afraid of a corner. Corners don’t bother me a bit. Then, reality hits me and I realize He is well aware of this so He must, indeed, have something “special planned.
And He does. I’m still over His lap and I hear Him open the drawer to an end table. He fingers my bottom hole and I feel something cold enter it. I squirm and plead, knowing full well he will ignore this. Knowing full well that I will respect him less if he even acknowledges my sad attempt at whining. We both bursa eskort know I not only need this, but I want his strong discipline. We can both smell the sweet scent of my excitement.
He shushes me and places a hand on my lower back. I still, not wanting to annoy Him further, and feel a cold hardness enter. I tense, but He smacks my bottom again and I relax, allowing the anal hook enters my hole. My body quivers. The metal is cold and comforting. I being to pant as the excitement builds inside of me. He gathers my hair into a ponytail, secures it and then ties the other end to the top of the hook, ensuring that I cannot bow my head. He stand, unzips his trousers and pulls out his thick cock. I lick my lips and open my mouth. Nothing in the world gets me off faster than his cock in my mouth. As I worship him, my hair tugs and the hook wiggles. I can barely stand the discomforting pleasure. He dips his cock down my throat, and I let loose, allowing waves of pleasure to crash over my body. He pulls out then pumps his cream over my face, my chest, my breasts. The heat of it melts with my orgasm and I scream his name. When he finishes, escort bursa he lets me use my tongue to lick up the last drops of his sweet, sweet cum. I smile up at him, grateful for the pleasure he’s given me as well as the discipline. He cocks his head and I remember. Corner Time.
Then, He stands me up and catches my wrist and loops a rope over it. He walks me to the large picture window and I panic. Even though we live on the 17th floor, I absolutely HATE the idea that someone might possibly look up and see me exposed. I’ll be naked all day for Him, but in public? Please, no!! I pull against Him, and He gives me a look which stops me cold. I try to look down, but my tied hair stops me. He attaches first one wrist then the other to the hooks hidden behind the curtains.
For fifteen minutes I must remain here – in my “special” corner. My bottom is throbbing, my anus is plugged, cum dries on my skin, I cannot bow my head and my face, I’m sure, is redder than my ass. Once my time is up, He releases me, kisses me, and asks if I have anything to say.
“Thank you, My Lord,” I murmur.
“For what?” He asks.
“For holding me to high standards, for not giving in to me, for loving me enough to discipline me,” I answer honestly.
“You’re welcome, my love,” he answers. “Now, do you think you can behave long enough for me to make love to you properly?”
“Yes, Sir!” I say. “I certainly can.”
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