Brought to Heel

"But before we begin my eager, little sIut I need to ensure the formalities are in place. Your Mistress is a stickler for detail, something you will learn to understand and respect."

She moved over to the wall in front of them and took a book from one of several on a shelf to the left of where all the paddles, crops, canes, floggers and whips hung.

"This is your punishment book slut. This will be the record of all the punishments that I feel are necessary to deliver to you for you to learn discipline, obedience and compliance. How quickly it becomes full will be dependent on your behaviour and my own whims. Not all punishments are for ill discipline , sometimes they are simply for my enjoyment. The date, time and nature of the punishment will be recorded and you will sign the book underneath each entry. Do you understand slut? "

"Yes Mistress."

"Yes Mistress?"

"I mean Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress."

"Much better! Now steady yourself, I am ready to begin finding the benchmark. This is the medium crop, slut. Let's see how you get on shall we?"

The first slash of the crop stung his buttocks but did not cause him too much pain. He waited expecting a second swish of the crop which was not forthcoming. Then he realised Mistress was waiting for him.

"One Mistress. Thank you."

There followed five further applications of the crop of similar but increasing intensity, each one led to him counting out aloud and thanking his Mistress.

"Let's have a look shall we?"

His Mistress traced the marks on his buttocks with a fingernail causing him to wince and at the same he knew his cock had hardened as he had been receiving the crop.

"Oh I see you like the crop, slut . Your filthy cock all hard now. Hmm we better try something more advanced I think. Now let me see, yes this one I think."

She chose a longer thinner crop with a silver letter C on the end.

Again the same procedure, six strokes of the crop, each one counted out by Alan, thanking his Mistress. He fumbled his words once as the crop bit into him more harshly than the previous one but never cried out.

She examined him again, probing these new marks with her fingernail causing him to moan with pain.

"Shush my little slut. You took that well, I know you can take more."

She felt his cock again finding it still hard.

From the corner of his eye he saw her place the crop back on the wall and pick up a flogger.

He sensed her behind him and readied himself once again.

The first beating with the flogger was a new level of pain for him, excruciating, as he counted a one and thanked her.

Three more rained down on him each one more painful than the last and by the fifth one he was groaning in pain.

"Shh little slut, just one more to take. Take it for your Mistress, be a good boy now, no crying out."

The sixth one was delivered with force, He had to grit his teeth and grind on them to avoid squealing with pain. He managed to whisper out a 'six' and a 'thank you'.

"Good little slut. You did a little better than I thought you would., taking the flogger so well has surprised me."

She felt between his legs.

"No longer hard, slut! Well that's no surprise, stay there for a moment while I fill in your punishment book."

Alan relaxed, his buttocks were sore and painful but the whole punishment had excited him, for his Mistress to crop and then flog him made him feel truly owned. That she thought he had taken it well made him pleased. The book was placed on the floor and he released his hand from one of the grips, took the pen offered to him and placed his signature under the comments his Mistress had written.

"We better apply something soothing, some cool, antiseptic cream to that bottom of yours. Stay where you are I have something here, somewhere. "

He heard the sound of her putting on latex gloves, the unscrewing of a jar and then the cool cream was bring rubbed gently into his red and bruised bottom. Mistress was surprisingly gentle making sure the cream was applied evenly. At one point her finger slipped between his cheeks and touched the rim of his dark hole causing him to gasp.

"Ooops, sorry Slut. But maybe you liked that slut. Did you slut, did you enjoy Mistress fingering your hole, do you wish she had run her finger around the rim then slipped it inside you to the knuckle?"

She laughed as he moaned an affirmative answer.

"Who knows slut, maybe one day, if you have been really good, taken a great deal of punishment, impressed me with your compliance then maybe Mistress will finger your hole. Now stand up!"

He stood up slowly, stiffly. She reattached the leash to his collar and led him back upstairs to the lounge area, then took the leash off and sitting back on the sofa told him to kneel in front of her. She picked up a box that sat on the sofa next to her and said:

"These are going to be yours, they are very cheap copies of a pair Mistress owns. They are going to be our play toy, just to get you started in learning how to be a good foot slut. Go on, take them out of the box."

Alan's fingers shook as he took the black ballerina pumps out of the box. They had diamanté sparkles on the toe. They looked beautiful and felt wonderful in his hands.

"Thank you Mistress, they are wonderful, I don't deserve them."

"I decide what you deserve slut! Never question your Mistress! "

"Sorry Mistress, please forgive me."

"Hmmm, well let's put that to one side shall we. It's time for your first training session."

"Now slut, take one of the shoes and sniff it for me. That's it. Breathe in the newness of it, that special 'fresh from the box' scent, good boy. Now then lick inside it, that's good, nice long licks and masturbate with your free hand. See how hard you get. No cumming though, you don't have permission for that!."

She watched him for twenty minutes, edging and adoring the shoes, sweat running down his neck as he fought hard not to cum.

"Enough now Slut! Put the shoes back in the box, you will take the box home with you and keep it hidden, you will need it on your next visit. Now I will just remove your collar, there we are. Go and get dressed the session is finished."

Fifteen minutes later and Alan found himself standing outside No 36 as the door closed shut behind him. He had the box containing the black ballerina pumps, in a plastic bag. His buttocks were sore and his head spinning, time to make his way back across London, time to go home.