My Birthday Spanking


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© Copyright 2018 - - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; collar; naked; cuffs; chastity; cell; spank; sex; blindfold; gag; clamps; cons; X

WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior. If you are under the age of 18 or 21 and reside in a state, country, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!

Archiving permitted, but only if you include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by e-mail.

The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.

However, individual readers may make single copies of the story for their own non-commercial use.


Attn: Readers please feel free to send an e-mail to me. I do want to hear from you!

It’s Saturday night, and by now most girls are looking forward to have sex with the men (or women) in their lives. For most, that would be regular vanilla sex.

But not for me. Not anymore. Ever since my current boyfriend, Carl introduced me to the joys of bondage and discipline and made me his submissive. I now crave what I once considered perverted and degenerate.

My name is Sabah Jenkins, and tonight I’m twenty-six years old. I have black hair and eyes, I'm 5 foot 4 inches tall and weigh 120 lbs. I have a nice body, with modest breasts, a thin waist, and a firm bum.

My boyfriend, Carl Turner is thirty years old. He’s 6 feet tall, has blond hair and blue eyes, and weighs about 150 lbs. In spite of the fact that’s behind a desk all day, he keeps himself fit by exercise. His body is nicely muscled and toned, but not to excess.

I’m naked in a jail cell in his Playroom wearing nothing but a D-ring collar locked around my neck. Matching bracelets are locked onto my wrists and ankles, with a foot of chain linking them together. I’m wearing a pair of black three inch high heels on my feet; and those are locked as well. To prevent me from giving myself an orgasm without permission he has locked a chastity belt around my waist and between my legs.

Right now, I look and feel fantastic. It’s hard to believe, but I love wearing fetish and bondage gear. Being naked and in chains is a sexual turn on by itself; and the chastity belt prevents me from giving myself an authorized orgasm. Which is forbidden, and something that Carl would punish me for.

The chains I now wear give the most incredible feelings. I’m his prisoner, yet I feel free for the first time in my life. I can’t resist pulling my wrists apart to all of twelve inches, and trying with my fingernails to open the leather wrist cuffs. Nor can I resist walking, my steps limited by my ankle chain and the confines of the jail cell.

But it is the Chastity Belt locked upon my sex that is perhaps the greatest impediment to my freedom as a woman. Taking away the freedom to give oneself sexual pleasure is the ultimate punishment; equaling that of the whip which is something I am now familiar with as well.

My boyfriend and Master Carl has a very impressive Playroom. The basement of his house has three rooms, one of which he converted to entertain submissive women. He covered the walls in faux stone; soundproofed the entire basement; constructed a jail cell using parts that can be assembled (and taken apart if need be); and it has a ceiling chain; chains upon the walls; a horse; a wooden cage; a rack with whips; canes; and riding crops; and a bed in the back (for taking me after a session).

I’m staring at the image of myself in a mirror outside my cell, seeing myself as a chained, naked woman awaiting her fate with both anticipation and fear.

One year earlier we had been in his bedroom, with him wearing only a pair of briefs; and I was naked sitting next to him on the bed.

“I’d like to give you a birthday spanking, Sabah. Would you like that?” Carl asked.

“Yes,” I answered, “whatever you desire.”

“Good. How do you feel about sex?” Carl questioned.

“I like it, but I’ve felt that something was lacking. I’m tired of men treating me like a porcelain figurine. I told the last man that I was with that I wouldn’t break, but he still treated me like a fragile doll. I want a man who will use me and treat me like a woman,” I replied.

“That can be arranged, and I can be that man. Can you surrender yourself to me, obey my orders, be disciplined physically, and placed in bondage?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Before you enter the world of Bondage and Discipline,” he began, “one thing that you must know is that everything that we do is totally consensual. If you feel uneasy or uncomfortable with anything that will occur between us; you must tell me before we proceed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Carl.”

“Have you ever heard of a safe-word?”

“Yes, I’ve read “Fifty Shades,” I replied.

“Have you ever read “The Story of O?”

“I have a copy a friend gave me, but I haven’t read it as yet,” I answered.

“It’s quite a different story than “Fifty Shades”; but it’s important to realize that “O” is a willing accomplice in her own debasement. She totally consents to all of the torments that Rene and Sir Stephen ask of her.”

“I’ll definitely read it,” I replied.

I never thought I’d be discussing books while being totally naked with my new boyfriend. Maybe being naked while watching an Adult Video, but books?

“Choose your safe-word, please,” he asked.


“That’s fine,” he answered.

“I want you to count each time I spank your bottom,” he ordered, “miss one, and I’ll start all over again.”

“Yes, Carl,” I answered.

“Yes, Sir. When you’re over my lap.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s better, darling. Now I want you to get over my lap.”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied as I draped myself over his lap, my bare bottom sticking up for his examination.

I felt his left hand begin to rub and fondle my bottom, squeezing each of my ass cheeks. Then I felt my buttocks being pried apart.

“Has any man ever used your bottom?” he asked.

“No, Sir,” I quickly answered.

“So you’re still a virgin back there.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Would you like me to take your bottom?”

“Only if you desire it, Sir,” I replied.

“That will be for another day,” he answered,

“Yes, Sir.”

“For now, though, we shall begin with your birthday spanking. Prepare yourself,” he ordered.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he ordered, and I complied.

I cautiously placed my hands behind my back, not knowing what was going to happen next. From the night-table drawer he removed a set of gleaming, stainless steel handcuffs.

“Ever wear handcuffs before?”

“No, Sir.”

“You will discover that being in chains can set you free,” he answered.

“Yes, Sir.”

He locked the cuffs upon my wrists, and I was now helpless and in bondage for the first time. I loved the new feelings coursing through my naked body. I instinctively tried to pull my wrists apart.

“Enjoying yourself?” Carl asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I quickly answered.

“Good, prepare yourself,” he said.

He held my chained wrists with his left hand, and then raised his right hand, and I knew that I was about to be spanked.

Crack. “One.”

Crack. “Two.”

Crack. “Three.”

Crack. “Four.”

Crack. “Five. Owwww.”

“No comments.” Carl ordered.

He was methodical in his work, smacking first one buttock, and then the other. I was sure that my bum was a nice shade of red; and every time I sat down for the next few days I’d be reminded of my spanking.

After just five strokes I knew that I was already wet between my legs, the combination of being restrained and punished was totally unlike anything that I had ever experienced before.

In addition, I could feel Carl’s hardening erection through his underwear. I looked forward to having his hard cock between my legs tonight in my quim.

Crack “Six.”

Crack “Seven.”

Crack “Eight.”

Crack “Nine.”

Crack “Ten.”

I wondered if Carl was going to go through with spanking me twenty-five times; but he showed no indication that he was going to stop. I was in no position to resist; since he was holding me firmly on his lap. Besides, I was already wet with desire. I wanted him to continue spanking me.

“I’d like to give you harder strokes. Do you consent?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I answered.

I was then rewarded with feeling his hand strike my bottom harder, and I enjoyed the sensation and mild pain.

Crack “Eleven.”

Crack “Twelve.”

Crack “Thirteen.”

Crack “Fourteen.”

Crack “Fifteen.”

Crack “Sixteen”

Crack “Seventeen”

Crack “Eighteen.”

Crack “Nineteen.”

“Are you all right, Sabah?” Carl asked, pausing in spanking my bottom.

“Yes, Sir.” I answered.

I have to admit that at first I was worried that he was going to hurt me. Instead the blows on my bum were modest. I knew that a good soak on Sunday would relieve the inevitable soreness, and that I would be able to go work on Monday morning.

“May I continue?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Crack “Twenty.”

Crack “Twenty-one.”

Crack “Twenty-two.”

Crack “Twenty-three.”

Crack “Twenty-four.”

Crack “Twenty-five.”

“There now, you may stand up,” Carl ordered.

Since my wrists were still locked behind my back, Carl helped me to my feet. I was a little shaky.

“I’m now going to release your wrists, Sabah.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I replied.

In truth, I didn’t want him to release my wrists. I enjoyed feeling helpless.

“Want to see what you look like?” Carl asked, as he unlocked the handcuffs.

“Yes, please.”

“Please may I have my phone so I’ll be in control of the picture?” I asked.


I walked to the dresser where I had placed my purse, and removed the phone. I turned it on, and handed it to Carl. I stood in front of him as he took a couple of pictures, and he handed the phone back to me.

“Wow.” I said, looking at my sore bottom, which was a fine, deep shade of red.

His strokes had started softly, mere taps on my buttocks. But they had slowly increased in intensity as my spanking had progressed.

“How do you feel?” Carl questioned.

“Horny,” I replied.

“Well, I think that we can do something about that,” he answered, and stood up from the bed.

In his underwear I could see that he still had an enormous erection. I shut the phone off and placed it back in my purse. Then I laid down on the bed, and opened my legs to expose my moist, wet sex.

“Please use me, Sir?” I asked.

“Yes, Sabah, I shall. But first, I want you up on your hands and knees on the bed, because I’m going to take you from behind.”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied.

We had already used this sexual position once before, so it wasn’t new. In fact, I’d never had sex that way before with any other other man; and I found that I liked it. I had read that it touched my “G” spot from a different angle; giving me more satisfactory orgasms. Some of my girlfriends told me that it was their favorite sexual position; it made them feel like they were in an Adult Film.

“Before you get up on the bed, I’d also like you to put on your high heels. That way you can feel like a real tart tonight,” Carl instructed.

I had worn my sexiest pair of red four inch heels tonight for my birthday. Little did I know that I was going to wear them to bed besides dinner and drinks.

“Yes, Sir,” I quickly answered.

I placed my naked feet inside my red heels, then got up on the bed as ordered. I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror, and I felt like a real tart at that moment.

Carl then walked over to the night-table on the left side of the bed, opened the drawer and removed a box of condoms. He removed one, and then pulled his shorts down to expose his rigid shaft.

He then joined me on the bed from behind, and opened the foil packet. Carl then unrolled the latex on his hard, pulsing member. Then he placed his hands on my waist, and drove his massive organ into me in one thrust.

“Oooooh,” I moaned as he impaled me with his manly cock in my quim.

He withdrew, only to thrust again and again into my moist hot quim, driving me to ever greater heights of passion.

Each time that he impaled me, I would moan with both pleasure and pain. My bum was still a bit sore from the punishment that it had just received; so I was getting two conflicting sensations at once.

“Oooooooh,” Carl began to moan every time his shaft would penetrate me, and I would moan in unison with him, our cries of passion merging together in the bedroom.

Carl was right, being rogered from behind was a truly great idea. Never in my life did I have such good sex, and I had enjoyed being spanked and now fucked on my hands and knees. I imagined myself in the same position on the floor, with a collar locked around my neck and a chain leading to the bedpost.

With his firm hands holding onto my waist, Carl was able to impale me with each thrust. I felt each time within my naked body as his shaft drove deeply into me. Now this was a real man who knew how to please his woman.

I tried to match him thrust for thrust, but Cary held onto my waist and drove his shaft deep within me. We both moaned in unison; and I knew that he was close to climaxing within me.

“Oooooooooh,” Carl moaned, and suddenly I felt his hot come flood into the condom.

“Aaaaaaaah,” I shrieked as I came at the same time; our cries filling the bedroom together.

Carl exhaled, his body exhausted by the sexual efforts to give me the best fuck of my life. I had never been rogered so well before; nor ever taken from behind. He had been right; this was the best sexual position and I had the most satisfying climax a woman could want.

I felt his cock lose its erection, and he withdrew from my moist quim.

“That was great, Sir,” I said.

“You may lie back on the bed while I clean myself off in the bathroom,” Carl instructed me, his breathing still ragged from the intense sex and climax.

“Thank you, Sir,” I did as he told me, and I watched as he held the condom on his now flaccid organ as he got off the bed and walked into the bathroom.

In the intense afterglow of my climax, I had forgotten about my spanking. My bottom still smarted a little, but the pain was gone. If he had used a paddle on my bottom instead of his hand, I imagined that the damage would be a lot worse.

Since I knew that Carl was capable to doing me two or even three times in a night, my next sex would probably involve me getting pounded into the mattress.

It didn’t take Carl long to clean himself up in the bathroom and join me back in the bedroom. He had washed his cock of all traces of his come; and his formally hard shaft was now flaccid. I knew that I could bring it back to life by taking it in my mouth, but I knew that he needed a rest first.

He seated himself on the bed next to me. We were both totally naked, except that I was wearing my red fuck me high heels.

“How was it, Sabah?” Carl asked, with a grin on his face.

“Wonderful,” I answered, “I never did it that way before, now I think I want to be taken from behind every weekend, Sir.”

“Has any man ever taken your bottom hole?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then perhaps I shall be the first,” he answered.

“Will it hurt?” I asked.

“Only if I force myself and do it wrong. With the right technique and lubricant, we can do it safely. But only with your consent,” he replied with genuine understanding in his voice.

“Have you done this before with other women?” I asked.

“Only those that have consented to it. Just like spanking and being disciplined.”

“You just said Discipline – as in Bondage and Discipline. Do you practice that as well?”

“Yes, I’m what you would call a Master.”

“Do you hurt women?”

“No, everything is consensual, as I said earlier. Do you want to experience that lifestyle?” Carl asked.

“I’m not sure,” I replied, “but I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Good girl,” Carl answered.

“Let me give you a massage then,” he offered, “blindfolded.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” I answered

Carl rose the bed and removed a black object from the top drawer of the dresser. It was a common blindfold that could be found in every Chemist’s store.

“Were you expecting a leather blindfold?” ha questioned me, a grin on his face.

“Yes,” I answered from the bed.

“This works just as good as anything I can buy at a fetish shop. There are a lot of things that you can buy in the hardware store to place someone in bondage without spending anything in a fetish shop,” Carl replied.

“Where did you get those handcuffs, then?”


“Oh,” I answered.

“Let me give you a massage,” said Carl, he walked over to the bed and handed me the blindfold, “I want you to put this on.”

I took it from his hand and covered my eyes with the black satin covered blindfold, and stretched the elastic band behind my head. I couldn’t see anything. I used to have a girlfriend who used to have trouble sleeping, even at night, and she always wore a blindfold to bed.

He began slowly, teasing me with his fingertips. Carl began at my shoulder blades, tracing the bones under my skin. Then he moved to the small of my back, just barely touching me and arousing me with every contact he made with my naked body.

I sucked in my breaths, not wanting to get aroused too quickly. But the bedroom was already heavy with the smell of sex after he had taken me so expertly from behind.

“Turn over,” Carl ordered.

I quickly obeyed but stayed silent as his fingertips continued to range over my naked body. He traced my underarms, the curve of my breasts (I fully expected that he would pinch my erect nipples, but all he did was to suck gently on them); my belly; and the outlines of my quim.

Then he inserted two fingers into my already wet slit; and I moaned with desire. I wanted him to get on with it and plunge his shaft again into my quim, but at the same time I knew that I was his to command.

He began a series of gentle thrusts into my already wet and moist quim; each one making me hotter than the last. I was afraid that I might come, but I managed to hold myself in check.

Then he withdrew his fingers, and placed them in my open mouth. I did not have to be told to clean them of my juices.

Then I felt a rustling on the bed, and I could hear the sound of the condom packet being opened.

“Remove your blindfold,” Carl ordered me.

I reached up with my left hand and removed the blindfold, my eyes blinking in the sudden light. Carl was kneeling over me; and I could see that his manhood was again fully erect, the veins clearly visible in his shaft.

“Ready, darling?” Carl asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I quickly answered.

Carl unrolled the latex onto his cock, then got on top of me, and again plunged his rampant rod into me once more.

I moaned with desire; and I felt like a cat in heat. I opened my legs to admit him into my quim, and he easily penetrated my wet slit. I could smell his sweat and mine as we again engaged in hot sex.

Just as before, as on our previous dates, he again pounded me into the mattress. Except that this time I had a red bum, and the combination of both pain and pleasure was truly exquisite. It was something that I had never experienced before.

I had been on the Net last week, and I had watched a woman being flogged on a website. At first, I was appalled; but then I was fascinated. Was she really moaning from pain or pleasure? Or was it a combination of both? I imagined myself under the lash: how would I react to being flogged? Would I love it or hate it?

I soon matched Carl thrust for thrust, and we both moaned together in unison. Our hot bodies grinding against each other, our sweat mingling producing the heady aroma of sex in the bedroom.

“Oooooooooh,” Carl cried.

“Aaaaaaaaaah,” I responded each time he speared me with his hard cock in my quim, pounding me into the bed.

I then placed my arms and legs around his body, drawing him ever closer to me. Our hot breaths combined, the heat of our naked bodies increasing our joint passion together.

I don’t know how long we continued in this way, with only the sound of the bed-springs and our breathing filling the bedroom. But there comes an end to all things, and then I felt his whole body stiffen; and then his hot come erupted into the latex covering his cock.

I screamed when the orgasm hit me, one even more intense than before. Carl moaned, and I felt each time he came into the latex. I had one orgasm after another, and this was truly the best sex that I had ever had. Carl was no fumbling, scared and inexperienced youth. Instead he was a true man who knew how to bring pleasure to a woman.

All too soon, the pulsations within me stopped; and we were both spent. He lay naked on top of me, our sweat mingling together. Carl withdrew his flaccid organ from my quim, and we lay together, panting in unison.

“You were terrific,” Carl told me, his breathing ragged.

“You too, Sir, thank you for a wonderful night.

“Let me get cleaned up, and we’ll get under the covers and cuddle all night,” Carl suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” I told him.

Little did I know then, but my life was about to take a drastic turn the very next day.

The next morning we both showered and cleaned up after both my spanking and our passionate lovemaking.

Carl made breakfast, and we sat at the table eating fried eggs, toast, black coffee and orange juice. In the background, classical music was playing to accompany our meal.

“Carl, do you have any other toys in that dresser of yours?” I asked, “besides the handcuffs and blindfold?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, are you sure you want an answer to that question?”

“Yes,” I answered.

Carl was dressed in a shirt; blue jeans; and trainers. I was wearing bra and knickers, a top and shorts; and trainers as well. Casual wear for a Sunday morning.

“I also have a ball-gag; riding crop; a leather paddle; leg irons; leather collar; nipple clamps; and a leash. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“And would you like them demonstrated on you a little later?” Carl asked, “to be made helpless and placed in bondage?”


I’ve always had a fantasy of being bound, gagged and helpless. The internet has helped me to understand my fantasy, since I’m turned on by images of women in bondage. Any bondage; naked or clothed; rope; leather; or chains.

“It’s not often that I find a girl who is already comfortable with the idea of being placed in bondage. What made you interested in the subject?” Carl questioned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Ever since I saw fetishism and bondage on the internet it’s always been a fantasy of mine. The idea of being naked and helpless; and punished has aroused me,” I answered.

“Well, in that case I’m the man that you’ve been looking for. I’m sure that I can satisfy your sexual desires.”

“After you cuffed my hands behind my back you could have taken me sexually right then and I would have loved it,” I confessed to Carl, “bent over, with your hands on my hips, from behind. The very idea gets my quim soaking wet. Getting spanked was foreplay.”

“How do you feel about being used with a whip or riding crop?” Carl asked.

“I’d love to try it,” I answered.

The very thought of being physically punished was immensely arousing to me. Combined with bondage was making me wet indeed and my nipples hard.

This was a fantasy come true.


We were back in the bedroom again, and I was looking at myself, naked and helpless in the mirror. And loving every second of it.

I was totally naked, wearing nothing but my pair of red three inch high heels. My hands were cuffed behind my back; a leather D-ring collar was locked around my neck; and a red rubber ball-gag had silenced me. A pair of leg irons were locked on my ankles, giving me about twelve inches of movement.

In short, I was totally helpless. It was great, because this was my fantasy finally come true.

“There’s just one more thing,” said Carl, “your nipple clamps, darling.”


I stood impassively as Carl placed a set of clamps on my nipples. They were simple things, really. A “U” shaped piece of metal with rubber tips at the ends, closed with a metal slide. Carl placed the rubber coated tips onto my already erect right nipple, then slowly closed it. The pressure on my nipple increased and he gave it a gentle tug to make sure that it wasn’t going to fall off. Then he placed one on my left nipple, and gave the chain linking them a small tug. With one of the most sensitive parts of my female anatomy now pinched, all I could do was to move forward in response.

“Mmmmmmph.” I moaned into my gag, the red rubber ball taking away my power of speech.

“Enjoying yourself?” Carl asked with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Mmmmmmph.” I moaned again in response.

“And is your quim wet, Sabah?”

I nodded my head in response.

“Let’s see for certain.”

I opened my legs to accommodate his index and middle fingers as they entered and probed my sopping wet slit. I had been aroused by the whole process of placing me in bondage, feeling like those women I had seen in bondage videos I had seen on the internet.


Carl was now fucking me with his fingers, and I certainly didn’t need any more sexual stimulation at that moment. About the only device from the top dresser drawer that he had not used on me yet was the riding crop. And I desperately wanted him to give me a few strokes with that too, so that I could experience everything.

“Enjoying yourself?” he taunted me.

“Mmmmmmph,” Was my only response.

Just when I was close to an orgasm, he withdrew his fingers, coated my female juices. He smelt his fingers, and then placed them in his mouth to suck away my secretions.

“Randy little minx, aren’t you?” Carl asked, “what a bondage slut you are.”


Carl then sat on the bed, watching me in my captivity.

“It’s always nice to break in a new submissive. I can tell when a girl wants the feel of steel and leather; and you are such a willing pupil. We’re going to have a really good relationship, and once you’ve felt the bite of the whip, you’ll be a different girl.”


Naked, bound, and helpless, I knew that I had found the man I had always been looking for. I looked forward to the future with high hopes indeed.

For my twenty-sixth birthday Carl had taken me to a very special restaurant. We had a salad, steaks, baked potatoes, asparagus with Hollandaise sauce, red wine, and finally cheesecake and coffee for dessert.

I had never felt so good or horny in my life, and I was eagerly looking forward to the rest of the evening with Carl.

Now most girls would have been thinking of a nice night in bed with their paramour. For them, that would just be rogering; and for the more adventurous, perhaps oral sex.

But I’m a completely different girl than the one of one year ago. I had always dreamed of a man who would master me and make me his submissive.

Now I’ve found that man, Carl. In the last year I’ve given my body over to him, and he has trained me in the use of all of my bodily orifices. Not only that, but I have also been trained in the use of the riding crop, paddle, and whip.

I have now found freedom in chains, just as Carl said I would.

I reach down to my waist and try to pull off the chastity belt that has deprived me of the use of my sex. I am not allowed to have unauthorized orgasms without his permission, lest I get a whipping. Which I really don’t mind, since I have acquired a taste for punishment.

I hear a noise and turn around. The door to the playroom has opened, and Carl has now joined me. He is dressed completely in black, a shirt, trousers, and shiny black shoes, which I shined earlier today.

“Enjoying yourself, Sabah?” Carl asks innocently.

“Yes, Master.”

“How do you like your accommodations?”

“I like them very much, Master.”

“Did you sit down on the cot for a while?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you very much.”

“Good. I want you to be fully rested for tonight’s activities,” Carl said so calmly.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m going to open the cell, and then I want you to go over to the rack and choose your method of punishment, and hand it to me. Then I’m going to hang you from the ceiling and deliver twenty-six strokes with whatever you choose. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” I quickly answered.

“Good,” he answered as he unlocked the cell door.

I walk out of my jail cell, and bow before him. Then I walk in chains over to the rack, and remove the whip. I walk back to him and bow, and present it to him, coiled like a snake in my chained hands.

“I choose the whip, Master,” I tell him, “make me scream my devotion to you.”

“As you want, Sabah.”

A few minutes later the chastity belt and my ankle and wrist chains have all been removed and I’m hanging naked and vulnerable from the ceiling. My wrists and ankles are held apart by spreader bars; and my heels barely touch the floor.

I am exposed and helpless to my Master.

Carl stands before me and offers to whip to my lips, and I eagerly kiss it, even though I know it will soon slice my skin and make me writhe in pain.

“Ready yourself, and there will be no need to count the strokes, I will do that,” said Carl.

“Yes, Master,” I answered.

When the whip strikes my shoulder blades and makes me cry out, my tears are both of joy and pain. For I have found the man that I have always wanted: A Master.


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