I hadn't belonged to him for all that long, yet, from the beginning, the rules had been simple and definite. Near the top of the list, I was not allowed to masturbate in any way without express permission. That also happened to be the rule I had the most trouble following. Unfortunately, I also had difficulty not admitting to having broken that particular rule.
For some reason, I was always so sure he would want to hear all about it, want to see photographic and video proof. Every time I even so much as fingered my clit, I took a picture or recorded it. Then I would call him up, happy as a clam, and proclaim that I had some new evidence of my desire for him and all that he did to me. Usually he would immediately rebuke me, tell me he was disappointed, and then the next time we would meet he would punish me.
Every other time this had happened, it was usually a spanking, sometimes with a paddle or crop instead of his bare hand, but always within my pleasure limits. Almost like her was encouraging me to break the rules. Sometimes, he would make me get on my knees and service him, but again, always within my limits.
He would let me take my time, swallow him slowly, run my hands over his belly and ass cheeks, drag my nails lightly down his scrotum, and he would never force himself into my mouth. During these "punishments" he would invariably give me some sort of sign or word that he was going to cum so that I could prepare for it.
I swear, he always knew if I was in the mood to swallow his load, or have it streamed onto my face and tits, because he would do the opposite of that preference when the time came; the only real indication that it was anything approaching a punishment.
Whether it was "forced" oral, or a spanking, or both, he would pepper the whole experience with commentary about what a bad girl I was, how I needed to be taught a lesson, how sluts can't be left to their own devices (thus the basis for the rule in the first place), how I belonged to him and therefore was required to ask permission to play with his toys.
These lectures always made me feel good. It showed that he cared about me and how I occupied myself when he wasn't around. Then, one day, things changed, though I didn't realize it at first.
I'm not sure what brought on the change. Too many times testing the limits perhaps. Or maybe just a particularly bad day at his work. I may never know.
What I do know is that that day, when I called him to tell him about this glorious video I had just finished making, which involved a thick dildo buried in my pussy and rather lengthy butt plug being slowly pushed and pulled in and out of my ass, not to mention the leather collar around my neck with attached nipple clamps, or the ball gag between my teeth to keep me from alerting the neighbors to what I was doing, all that was on the other end of the phone was silence.
After a few moments pregnant with tension, he simply told me in a low, threatening voice, that I was to make my way to his residence immediately. He then hung up without another word. Realizing that he might actually be upset with me this time, I went to my closet and put on his favorite slutty outfit, sans any kind of underwear, threw on a long coat, grabbed my keys and left my apartment.
When I got to his house, he was waiting for me. He opened the door and stood back, indicating that I should enter. As I did, he closed the door behind me and locked it. I hadn't even made it to the middle of the room when he walked up behind me, grabbed me by the hair and forced me down to my knees.
So quickly I barely had time to register, he moved in front of me, unzipped his fly and pulled out his already rock hard cock. His hand still in my hair, he tilted my head back, growled at me to open my mouth, and as soon as I complied, shoved his thick length in to the hilt.
Needless to say, I was not prepared. I gagged a bit and a few tears sprang to the corners of my eyes but I didn't resist. I began to reach up with my hands to fondle his abdomen as I usually did while sucking him off, but he looked down and told me harshly to place my hands on his thighs and not move them.