© 2019, All rights reserved -- mimaster
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Ann could feel something tugging at her neck but she didn't understand, at least at first. Opening her eyes, she was startled by her surroundings. Everything seemed shaded in a deep blue, like she was wearing a pair of tinted sunglasses. Her pupils were having trouble adjusting.
"Where
am
I?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.
She tried to move up onto her elbow, but struggled, noticing the strange response of her arm against the mattress. It felt different, almost as if it were giving way. Rolling onto her back, she sat up, her eyes focusing more clearly. She could feel the chain dangling from her neck, falling between her naked breasts. It was moving gently, being pulled from the other side of the flapped opening.
"Oh... yeah," she moaned, the harsh realization of where she was and why she was there making the pit in her stomach reappear. Then she felt the reaction between her legs, her pussy instantly becoming wet.
She emerged from the tent with a sexy smirk on her face. While she wasn't necessarily ready for what the day might bring, she wasn't going to back away from it either.
"Good morning, Annabelle," Neil said as he leaned against what could best be described as a sawhorse, which had replaced the bondage machine that had been centered in the room the night before. That room being the dungeon he'd created just for her.
"Good morning, Master," she said as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, accidently wiping some of the dried cum from her face.
"It's going to be a long day. There's some fruit and cereal on the table. Hurry up and get yourself ready... and then eat. I want to get started."
"Okay," she said as she hobbled across the crushed rocks covering the ground.
He made her go to the bathroom first, going so far as to remove the plug buried in her ass so she could give herself one of her customary morning enemas. It was something she'd been doing daily for years. Ever since she started having anal sex soon after she became engaged to Neil. He was the only man that had ever fucked her ass, and it was a mind-altering experience from the very first time he took it. From that point on, she always wanted to be clean for her husband in case he wanted to enjoy that part of her body. Enemas became a routine part of her daily life, but this was the first time she'd ever had to do it in front of him.
It was somewhat humbling having him watch in the way he was. His stare was a cross between genuine curiosity and overt leering, and it unnerved her. But she was diligent in performing the task as she always was. As much as he loved to fuck her ass, she enjoyed it too. Which was good, since she had a distinct feeling her back door was going to be well used now that she was Annabelle again.
After the two big, soapy enemas, she was told her shave her legs, as well as her pussy. He smiled as he watched her shave her mound bare for the first time in over a decade. The look on her face was priceless, a small tear running down her cheek, her breath catching as she dealt with the emotion of losing something so dear to her. Sure, he was the one that shaved off her landing strip the night before, but having to go over the area with the razor herself was almost traumatizing.
She shaved her armpits. He was having her do all the feminine hygiene tasks she'd always done meticulously, but behind closed doors. He was making her show him all of her dirty little secrets for making herself the hot babe he loved so much, stripping her of the dignity of doing them in private. It was all part of his plan, and she couldn't help but feel humiliated from the way he was watching her every move.
"Do you want me to shower?" she asked when she put away her razor, already holding the bottle of shampoo in her hand.
"No... put on some deodorant and eat your breakfast. You need to learn to get yourself presentable faster. You're a slave, not a princess."
"Yes, Master," she giggled, finding his comparison hilarious.
While she was eating, he went about pulling out some rope. It was a lot thicker than what they usually used; the soft white cotton and poly blend was almost three times the diameter of the clothesline she was used to, the braid more detailed. She watched as he cut several lengths, singeing the ends with his lighter to keep them from fraying.
"Thank you for breakfast, Master," she said when she finished her fruit.
"You're welcome. Are you ready?"
"No," she said honestly. "I'm never ready for this. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"No, you're not," he smiled as he crooked his index finger, motioning for her to come to him. "Are you nervous or excited?" he asked, wanting to gauge how she was feeling. While he was going to do what he wanted, it wasn't like he didn't love her, or care about how she was handling everything.
"Both. More excited than nervous though," she said as she stood firm in front of him.
Chuckling, he turned her body to face away. "Well, we'll see what we can do to turn that the other way around."
"I'm sure you will," she said as she smiled over her shoulder, putting her hands behind her as if she knew what he wanted.
She did. He first tied her wrists, taking his time to make sure he wound the thick rope around them several times, the binds perfectly placed to create marks he could admire later. Next, he tied her upper arms just above the elbows with a shorter rope, forcing her chest out the way he'd envisioned in the process. A third rope started around her neck from the front, going over her shoulders to her back. He placed it over her leather collar so he wouldn't chafe her neck, crossing them over behind her back before tucking each end underneath her armpits, pulling them out the front.
From there he crisscrossed them again, first going over her shoulders and around her neck in the back in more of a traditional halter look. With the ends draped over her shoulders on the front side, he turned her around to face him, offering her a naughty smile.
Starting with her left breast, he wound the rope tightly around the base five times, forcing her tit further and further out. She winced as the blood was cut off, her skin instantly turning an erotic shade of purple. It was harsher than she'd ever had one tied, the thumping from her heart pumping actually making it ache. He did the same to her other breast, going to great lengths to make sure they matched as much as possible. Tying off the end to the part that ran up her shoulder like he had the first, he smiled at his handiwork.
"There... that looks right."
"Oh... shit," she hissed as he pawed at them. Then she screamed when he flicked each of her distended nipples with his finger.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK!" she screamed louder as he did it a second time.
"Not anytime soon, Annabelle. You've got a lot of punishment your ass needs to work off, and we haven't even started yet."
"Yes Master!" she growled as he pulled at her nubs, toying and twisting them.
Her mind raced back to a Wednesday a week or so prior and how she'd placed clamps on them several dozen times as part of the four
How To
classes she taught on beginner bondage. She'd been showing women that came different types of clamps, using her own nipples as a teaching tool. She'd talked specifically about the pleasure that could be derived from subjecting one's nipples to pain. But she never showed them anything like this.
"God... this would be for an advanced level class," she grimaced.
She didn't have time to dwell on that thought. Neil threw a towel over the top of the makeshift sawhorse, bending her over it, running his hand lovingly over her sexy ass. He sighed as he felt her soft skin. He'd always been an ass man and his wife had the most magnificent one he'd ever seen. The way she was bent showed off her shapely thighs, her legs slightly parted offering a full view of her glistening pussy. He slipped a finger through the folds, making her moan. Cupping her from behind, his wet fingers touched her bare mound, and the golden ring adorning her labia.
"Did you touch this last night?" he asked, knowing what her response would be before he ever asked the question.
"Yes," she answered dutifully, knowing there was no sense denying her discretion.
"That's disappointing... but not unexpected. I just gave you a break and took away a big portion of your punishment, and you decide to disobey. Half of them are going back, Annabelle. I'm adding fifty to your total. Do you remember how many that gives you?"
She quickly did the math. She had a feeling that he'd been rattling off the numbers because she was going to have to keep track. "Nine hundred fifty-six, Master," she said confidently.
"You seem pretty enthusiastic about that," he laughed as he gently patted her backside."
"Just happy I got it right."
"Well, we'll see just how happy you are as we whittle that number down a bit. We're going with a paddle this morning, Annabelle. We'll move on to other tools of the trade tomorrow."
"Okay," she sighed as she waited for him to start.
Picking up the black paddle, he held it in front of her as he got on his knees. He kissed her before putting the ball gag in place.
"I love you, Annabelle."
"I love you too, Master," she mumbled into the gag.
Moving behind her, he wasted no time getting started.
THWAK! THWAK! THWAK! THWAK! THWAK!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ann was using a piece of chalk to create hash marks on the cinderblocks, the far wall of the dungeon doubling as a chalkboard. She'd make four distinct vertical lines and then a diagonal one from the top left to the bottom right, signifying an increment of five. It was slow, tedious work, but she was making progress.
Neil was doling out her punishment in increments divisible by five. She was going to be spanked, or whipped, or paddled... or worse, until her ass had worked off her supposed debt. She'd gotten into the deep hole she was in by going too long between appearances as Annabelle. And she was paying for it exactly how she wanted to.
She was whimpering, tears staining her pretty face as she made the marks on the wall to help keep track of what she'd already endured. It was part of her penance, and with it there was an emotional toll as well. Not only was her ass on fire, her soft shapely cheeks burning a bright red from the way he'd swatted them, there was also the mental anguish of having to count them out as he swatted her. But that wasn't enough. She then had to mark them on the wall afterward as a reminder, and that was degrading.
She'd been weeping since soon after he'd administered the first twenty, each coming fast and hard. She could recall a time when she had to get on him for taking it too easy on her when they played their bondage games. He'd worry that he was being too harsh, fearful that he'd hurt her in some way. Those days were long gone. He was right when he said he knew her, and what she could handle; that she needed to be pushed further than the last time to stretch her limits.
The truth was she loved being tested. She longed for it, even though she hadn't really recognized it was smoldering beneath the surface. Yet she had spent less than half a day in her latest foray into the BDSM world, and it was clear he was going to ensued it to be the most difficult experience she'd ever braved.
In reality she'd really not done it that many times, but she knew he would push her more and more. Not only was there going to be more pain because he wasn't holding back like he once had, it was going to be spread out over more than a week. The image of a triathlete came to mind again. In the long endurance race she had ahead of her, she realized she'd barely entered the water to start the first leg.
She resisted the nagging urge to touch her ass, knowing he was watching. He'd paddled her more than either of them anticipated. She assumed wrongly that he would drag it out over the day. He decided instead at the last minute that he should strike while the iron was hot. The iron in this case was her butt. When it started turning pink, he had a perverse desire to see how
