Slave Gets Punished

Yesterday afternoon, I got what I deserved.  The photographic evidence is down below in this entry. Be warned.  Proceed no further if you don’t want to see the reddened bottom of a guy in his late 50’s.

It had been a while since Mistress had exercised her contractual right to punish me. And there were some grounds for punishment that had accrued over the last few weeks.

I had been locked away in my cage through the day. The evening before, Mistress made it clear that she would use the riding crop on me at the end of the work day, and encouraged me to get home early.

Through the day I had the scent of my Mistress on my hands, from the moments before I left for work, when Mistress had allowed me to slide my hands through her cunt and bring her to orgasm as she sat at our kitchen’s breakfast bar. That scent, and the tight hug of her cage kept me on edge through the day as I anticipated what she had in store.

When I got home, Mistress was in our bedroom, finishing up some work on her computer. She told me to strip.

Mistress was wearing black panties and matching bra, and allowed me to hug her from behind and kiss her neck as she stood in our room, in front of a mirror hanging over the table where she sits to arrange her hair or makeup. As I pressed against her from behind, my cock stirred in its cage.

Breaking our hug, she instructed  me to lay on the bed, face down. “I don’t want to bother tying you up now. You are just going to have to hold still for me.” I lay there for a few minutes, waiting for her next move. She took her time, finishing some work, building my anticipation, before she approached me, riding crop in hand.

“There are a few things you are being punished for”, Mistress said as she applied three quick, hard blows to my ass.

Ouch. Did I really think this was a good idea only a few minutes ago? Mistress recited a list of familiar grievances: my whining about my evening commute to our lovely but distant neighborhood; bringing up the name of a former cyber lover who is dead to her now;  making her beg to come the night before as I played with our new toy, the magic wand, etc. As each grievance was described, three or four more blows landed, each one seemingly more painful than the last.

I muffled my desire to verbally express my discomfort by biting hard into the pillow under my head. My ass and legs jumped as the blows landed, and each one seemed to add to the sting of the last.  It hurt. And I was ashamed that it was so hard for me to stay still on the bed. Certainly being tied down would have been easier for me, but I suppose Mistress did not want to make it easy for me.

All the while I became conscious that my cock was still locked in its cage. Why was it straining against the hard plastic at the same time my ass was on fire?  

You were warned. Here is that photo (the humiliation of posting it seems worse punishment than the cropping I took, BTW):

At some point I lost track of the blows that landed. Maybe only 20 in all by the time Mistress was done with me. I was determined not to ask her to stop, or beg for mercy. I knew I deserved whatever Mistress had decided to dish out.

When she was done, Mistress took her photo, then lay down next to me, gently rubbing my bottom. While it was still tingling, the pain quickly subsided and I enjoyed her gentle touch.

I was still caged, and knew that I would need to worship her  and bring her release before I was released. So I knelt on the floor next to her bed and she spread her legs for me.

After my punishment, I felt especially slave like, so kneeling and tasting her was particularly rewarding. I took my time at it, as she reclined back on the bed, enjoying my attention.

After she had her fill of my tongue, she unlocked my cage, and my cock sprung from its restraint, ready for her. And soon she allowed me to enjoy the reward it was seeking.

Later we dressed, and joined some friends for dinner in our old, City neighborhood. I could not help notice the special attention the male half of the couple seemed to be paying to my lovely Mistress.  And through dinner, my ass was still tingling a bit, a constant reminder of Mistress’s authority. When our friend mentioned to hassle of the heavy traffic commuting to our new neighborhood, I simply said “No comment.  I get punished if I complain”. Mistress smiled.

I think they thought I was kidding.