Butterflies and Hurricanes

I had always heard, before I found this escape, that there is a fine line between pleasure and pain. Physically yes, but it is mentally too. I enjoy pain immensely it is my drug, and he delivers it to me. Days like today are not the same. This is where the emotional line between pleasure and pain tests its strength. I was instructed to awaken him daily at a specific time with my mouth around his cock. My Dom, my Sir, instructed me to awaken him before his alarm went off. Sadly today is not the first, but the third day I have not completed the task at hand correctly.

I have not been keeping my head straight lately, my mind all over the place. I have no excuse as to why. I have my mouth around his shaft, and I am thrusting my mouth up and down. He hasn't even moved. The alarm sounds and I can add another failed attempt to my list. This is why he gets so upset. Ha! Upset is not the word used to describe the black in his eyes this morning. The dark chocolate is gone. Midnight black and lowered brows greet me.

I disconnect my mouth from him, and lean back into my kneeling position, on my haunches. I lower my head; I can't look at him when he is so angry.

"You might as well try to finish now. Since you can't wake me up on time, maybe you can make me come." He rasps.

I am moving immediately. I hug his cock with my lips and begin my movements again. I twirl my tongue around his tip, and take him into my mouth further and further until his head finds its home at the back of my throat. Each time I retract from him, I swivel my tongue along his hardening cock, sucking hard. He moans once and his fingers lace into my hair.

Tightening his grip, I can feel his disappointment bleeding into every hair follicle, taking over my scalp, and consuming my skin. My mind races again. Why couldn't I deliver this to him all those other days? Before I know it, he is moving my head and my flirtatious tongue has taken her vacation. I don't have time to fix it this time. I am pulled from him, and tossed aside.

"I am sorry Sir." I whisper, wiping my mouth.

"Oh, you will be girl. What good is a slave who can't even do as she is told?"

"Please! Let me try again, Sir! I swear I will do it right this time!" I cry to him.

He simply shakes his head as his face falls into a disappointed frown. "I have given you two chances today, and three days to get it right. Get off my bed."

I scurry quickly and am on the floor in seconds. My stomach is doing continuous summersaults. What would he do to me now? He is usually very gracious, but if I have been given five chances for one task, how much more gracious can one be? I fucked up and I knew I would have to pay the price, I just didn't know what the price would be.

I hear him on the bed, finishing what I should have done. But no, I am here on the floor awaiting his command. Disappointment takes over in tidal waves throughout me, a tsunami of it. I final grunt comes from beneath the sheets, and to my further disappointment, my pussy wets. I could have had release this morning as well. Not anymore.

"Go to the kitchen." He commands.

I go to lift my right knee to place my foot flat on the ground, so that I can rise to a standing position.

"I never said you could walk."

I close my eyes. My stomach drops, and I fall forward onto my hands. Rotating my body around to face the door, I crawl to the door. I feel so low, emotionally, physically, yet in a sick sort of way, I am still excited to see how severe my punishment will be. Until I reach the kitchen. I gasp when I see it. Did he know I would fuck up today? Or was it only a precaution? Waiting for me with the door open, inviting me in, was a black dog cage, three foot tall, four foot long. I remember wanted to explore caging and confinement. Right now though, with black eyes in the bedroom, I was afraid to know what would happen when he had me in one place, unable to run, hide, or plead my way out of it.

His footsteps come up behind me, and an unfriendly slap comes across my ass.

"What are you waiting for? Get in." He says.

My body begins to shake. This is it. I have to do this. I deserve it. I fucked up. I crawl to it, and place one hand into the opening.

"I want you on your hands and knees, until I tell you to relax. Your head is to be up and looking out the back of the cage and your mouth against it. Your cunt and asshole are to be on display for me."

My face is wet from silent tears, I nod, afraid to make a sound. I might cry out.

"I gave you a command." He prompts.

"Yes Sir." I whisper. Thankfully it is enough. He doesn't say anything as I take my position on the blanket.

It is fleece, and itchy. The fibers dig into my soft flesh, but I dare not move. He has his punishments down to a science; from the emotional factor to the physical aspect of it. The door closes behind me, and he slides the latch home. His fingers caress my folds, sending a wanton moan from my depths. His throaty laugh sounds behind me as his fingers quickly disappear.

I focus all my energy on staying still as he walks around the cage. He wants me on my hands and knees until I am told I can relax, but he hasn't said anything. So I close my eyes and mentally motivate my ass to stay in the air, and my lips against the metal bars. All of a sudden I feel his tip run a line against the seam of my closed lips of my mouth. My eyes fly open, as I look up to his face through the grates, I see his dark eyes and smirk.

"Open." He demands.

I do. I open my mouth wide, and he takes his cock in his hands. He doesn't move for a moment, until urine begins to run from his opening and meeting with my tongue. Instantly I begin gagging and coughing at the unwelcome liquid meeting with my taste buds, and my mouth closes on its own accord.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are a perfect urinal." He says under his breath.

I begin to cough out cries now. I did not expect him to use me as his bathroom. I feel so low, lower than I did when I crawled across the house. His stream travels up my face, coating my eyes, and into my hair; the hot extract of his body showering me, soaking me.

Don't say anything, do as he asks, maybe it will be over soon...

Once he finishes, I look up to him, dripping in his piss. I don't hide my anger now. I won't say anything, but I have never been able to wear my feelings anywhere but my sleeves.

"Awe. My little bitch is angry. Maybe she will be determined enough to give me what I want now. What do you think?"

He squats down in front of me, smiling at his work. I avert my eyes from him and try not to let him see my vulnerability.

"Look at me."

I do. But I cannot hold his gaze. I begin to sob as his eyes rove my naked body. Once his inspection is complete, he stands, and my mouth opens to gulp in much needed air, only to be filled with his length. He doesn't work his way in. He shoves into me, jabbing my throat with his head. Before I have time to retract, his fingers lace into my hair again, and he holds me in place. My face is no longer resting lightly on the metal, it is pancaked against, and protruding through the openings of the cage as he uses my face as his fuckhole.

I close my eyes, and I know he notices, he sees everything I do, but he doesn't say anything. I find that dark place in my mind and hide there as he continues his movements. I seclude myself there so deep that I barely feel him fucking my face. I don't know how much time passes before my mouth fills with his seed, but when it does; it is only natural for me to swallow. When he pulls out of me, I look back into his eyes, hoping for forgiveness. A whisper of a smile plays on his lips as his head tilts. He is contemplating, and my heart skips a beat as my stomach drops farther. He is nowhere near done with me in my confinement.

"Do you want release?" He asks.

Surprised, I perk up, "Yes, Sir! Please!"

He disappears for a few moments. When he returns he carries a vibrator. Opening the door to the cage, he inserts it into my entrance and closes to door again.

"You do not come until I allow you to." He says as he walks away, pressing a trigger in his pocket beginning another bout of torture to my insides.