The release

The Release

         She knew that the wait might well be long. Her comfort was not after all even her highest concern, and certainly not his. Her knees had long ago grown used to the rough tile that she now knelt on, hands upon each knee. She remained still, time passed but she took no notice of it. Her stillness was absolute, other than the slightest motion of her chest to maintain breath, she was as if encased in stone, so strong was her will to obey.
         She would face punishment today. That was why she waited in this room, with its dark walls and gothic equipment. This was the dungeon, the place where lessons were learned, the place where she feared to be. The fear was like a living thing inside of her, fighting with her will to break the stillness that bound her. The punishment could be anything, a strapping, electrodes that would make her skin jump and flush, clamps, the list is without end, this room was open to them all. Despite her fear she wanted the punishment, not because the pain thrilled her, though it did in a way that nothing else ever would, but  because she deserved to be punished. She had failed him, failed him utterly, and needed to prove to him that she was still his, that she still served him and would learn from her failure. As her calves cramped, her shoulders sang out with the sweet agony of immobility, she hoped for his forgiveness, and his severity.
         Time had no meaning to her, the pain in her legs and shoulders had become a dull throbbing part of her existence, something that had always been there and always would. Finally, after what must have been hours, she heard the steady, slow clomp of boots on the stairs. She heard him enter the room, could hear his breath as he circled about her, as her eyes remained fixed on her knees. The soft brush of his crop as he lifted her long dark hair from her back with it nearly caused her to jump. By some miracle she remained still, saving herself untold torment.
         “Stand” Came the order, at last
         The fire in her legs nearly made her cry out as she slowly raised her self from her prescribed kneeling position without the use of her hand to lift or even to balance. After such a long time on the hard floor it called on all her will to remember her discipline and rise properly. Hers was not a world were effort was credited, success was demanded and failure was harshly punished. Having succeeded, she spread her legs the proper two feet apart and clasped her hands in the small of her back, head down, eyes on the floor. Her heart raced with the fresh fright that she always felt when he inspected her in this way, prodding soft flesh with his crop as he moved about her. He ran a finger through the tight clevis of her armpit to ensure that no stubble existed, slid that same finger up her neck to behind her ear with the softest of touches, to test for a shiver. Learning to be still under that feather touch had taken months of discipline, the thought of her triumph in controlling her body’s involuntary responses nearly made her smile in spite of herself.
         “Bend”
         This meant to bend over at the waist, bringing her head to the level of her knees with her back straight and her legs locked. Her hands remained clasped behind her back. This position also was difficult and required ruthless discipline to achieve. Once in position she felt his fingers slide along her wide open crotch, again seeking the slightest stubble, or stray hair. That finger brushed with its deadly feather touch around the tight pucker of her asshole, again threatening a shudder, this time with desire. She felt moist goo being spread around that hole, then the hard presence of what could only be the large glass butt plug that he had trained her to accept, and move about with. She released her breath and tried to relax as quickly as possible, as it was coming in, now. She felt herself stretch, then stretch more as the huge plug made its way steadily into her abdomen. The plug was every bit as large as a fist at its widest point, and was made of solid glass, with no give. Obviously, its insertion had never been gentle, though he was careful not to cause damage. She was never able to believe that the plug actually fit inside of her when she saw it in the room, just as she could never really be ready for the widest part to push into her. Just when she knew that she would rip apart, her ass closed hard and fast over the base of the plug, sending a chill down her spine that nearly caused her to lose position.
         She felt a hand tangle in her hair, high up at the base of the neck, and start to lead her forward. She used great care to waddle-walk in order to keep her legs apart, and to not dislodge the plug. She saw the base of the horse as the pressure on the back of her hair stopped.
         “Get on”
         The horse was quite similar to a sawhorse, a bit higher, with deep padding, a rounded top, and covered in black leather. She stood, brought her right leg over the top of of the padded leather a stretched herself over the expanse of smooth, rich leather, with her heels on the ground and her arms draped on either side, her nakedness was a sharp contrast to the darkness of the horse and the room. Heavy leather cuffs were fastened to each corner of the horse by shiny chain, these were cuffs she prayed that he would use. Her discipline was such that cuffs were a mercy rather than a restraint, she would suffer in immobility without them, but the restraint would allow her to relax and endure without the concern of movement.
         CRACK, and a flash of pain across her upper thigh told her that she would have no mercy today. A second, measured, blow from his crop seared across the upper part of her ass, and then another. They kept coming in a steady tempo, and constant force, until that peculiar numbness covered her abused skin and she began to relax . After countless blows, the rain stopped, and the fire that was her ass and upper thighs erupted into an inferno that caused the slightest of moans to escape her lips. She heard a sharp intake of breath from him, and knew fear.
         “Was that noise from you, answer”
         “Yes, master, please punish me further for this discretion”
         Without another word he knelt beside her right wrist and wrapped the cuff around it, clipping the lock into place. Her heart raced faster and faster as he bound her other arm and leg. This meant severe punishment.
         He swept the cane before her face, so that she could see it, and know what was about to happen.
         “You will count down from twenty” came the order
         The first slice brought tears to her eyes, but she managed the count.
Each time he swung, he waited for her to strangle out the count, before taking another vicious swipe. At last the twenty were finished, and he released her.
         “You may stand, and feel your punishment”
         She rose from the bench and stood running her hands across the smooth skin of her flanks down over the welted mass that was her ass. Half inch high welts striped across the fleshy part of her ass, breaking the skin in places, especially where her cheeks were forced apart by the harsh plug. As she savored the burn of these marks, she felt a lust rise from inside that threatened to over-wealm her. She saw that he had gone across the room to the great throne like leather chair that sat in the corner, relaxed and waiting.
         “You may crawl to me and show your appreciation”
         With a near orgasmic tremble slickening her loins, she crawled to him in true appreciation.