Lessons Learned

I didn't like these parties and Master knew that. Yet, here I was being chaperoned from fake smile to fake smile. The men congratulated my Master on closing the Stein account while the women made small talk with me and nodded at their respective parts in the dull conversations. I was sure there were questions about us. Eye's narrowed slightly as I walked past increasing my frustration with this night. No, this entire day.

I was proud of my Sir he had worked very hard and did deserve the elaborate celebration. My mind flashed back to the stressful nights he had during negotiations. The anger he caressed my ass with upon each paddle and my stomach flooded with warmth at the thought of it.

"This is Marie," His hand on the small of my back gently prodded.

I glanced up at the young man in front of us. His ears were slightly larger than his face could handle.

"Hello," I answered with a practiced smile. He grabbed my hand bending to kiss it before I had offered.

"I should have known Will would have such a vision on his arm tonight."

He was considerably younger than my Master in fact probably only a couple years older than I and, like me, hadn't learned proper manners yet. However, I had my Masters firm instruction to teach me how to behave. Though today I wasn't feeling up to it. I gently, but firmly pulled my hand away and nodded at him.

The big eared boy stood slightly taken aback by my rudeness. He looked at Will and continued the conversation I had zoned out of earlier. Masters hand clenched the small of my back. I knew I was in trouble for that one. I glanced up at his salt and pepper shadowed face. His green eyes twinkled with sparks from the crystal chandeliers.

He was so handsome, smartly dressed in a navy blue tailored suit that fit his broad shoulders and toned torso well. I thought of all the times I had kissed his chest serving his flesh with my own. I smiled at the thought and then took stock of my surroundings.

White women with hair toppled high on their heads wore dresses worth more than my life. I felt so out of place at these things and smoothed my dress to calm my nerves. I didn't belong here, there was one other black person besides myself and he was a waiter. I searched the sea of broad smiles and slightly intoxicated wealth and looked for his face. He wasn't in the room. My mouth was dry and another older gentleman had struck a conversation with Sir.

Ugh, would this night ever be over! Without asking I pulled away from his possessive grasp and moved towards the bar at the far corner of the room. Expensive liquors cascaded down a long-mirrored wall held by clear shelves with soft white illumination fanning down towards the bartender.

He wore a champagne vest, white button up shirt, champagne bow tie, and khaki slacks. I wondered if he wanted to be here. Forgetting my "ladylike" front I heaved myself onto the bar stool and rested my head against my hand.

Without hesitation the bartender walked over to me, "What will you be drinking this evening Madame?"

Madame? That's a first, "shot of Jack please."

He raised his eyebrows, but quickly moved around the bar returning with a crystal glass and pouring the smooth brown liquor, "Here you are."

I smiled and tossed back the drink without a flinch. I just needed to blur my nerves a bit, "Thanks," I glanced at his brass name tag, "Mario."

He smiled sympathetically, "Rough night?"

No madame followed the statement and he seemed to drop the butler act slightly, but not enough to get in trouble.

The simple act of speaking like a normal person eased my mind and I nodded, "God yes. It isn't really my scene."

Mario's smile turned into a grin and he shrugged, "I wouldn't be able to tell. You look gorgeous."

He eyed the pearl white dress Master had bought for me. It had a heart shaped bodice that plumped my breasts but didn't overly emphasize them. The soft Chiffon wrapped around the curves of my body flaring at the bottom to create a small train. I loved it, it melded well with my deep toffee skin and I felt like a princess even though I was His slut.

"Thank you," I glanced down at myself than back at him, "Dress to impress, you know?"

I watched his eyes glance behind me as the comforting hand returned to the small of my back. His smell was intoxicating and masculine and constantly filled me with desire for him. Masters hand snaked along the side of my body gently squeezing my hip as a warning, no, a clear indication of how upset he was. Gooseflesh formed along my arms at the thought of the punishment I might receive, I thought of the delicious searing pain of the cane against my raw ass.

It had been such a long day I had been chewed out by 2 of my managers at work and then came home and my Master hadn't even been there.

A dress and shoes greeted me, as well as a note that read, I will pick you up at 8. Get ready. The written command and beautiful dress made me smile but I still missed him. I had wanted to come home and serve him, give myself to him and let my Master melt away the rough day with rougher sex. Instead I was here, and the day continued to drag on.

I had been able to alleviate some of my need when Master had commanded me to suck his cock in the limo. I eagerly did the act, greedily wrapping my mouth around his length and pushing it deep into my throat gagging around his girth. His hand guided my movement not controlling me until he reached his climax hammering into my throat with no regard. I loved it. Relishing the salty taste of him as his seed slid down my throat. By the time we had finished the limo pulled up to the large mansion and Sir had slipped his cock back in his pants. I on the other hand was a sobbing wet mess and still frustrated.

"Good evening Sir, is there anything I can get you," Mario asked.

Master waived his hand dismissing the young bartender and turned his green eyes towards me. I didn't want to look at him, I know what I had done.

Tucking my chin between his thumb and forefinger he turned my head forcing me to meet his gaze. I melted. I couldn't help it my body had been trained to react to him. Taught to please his every whim. I could be a brat sometimes, this was one of those times, but in slight ways. Nothing clearly defiant nothing that would cause him to look foolish, never.

"You forget your place?"

His voice could barely be heard over the ambling piano music that accompanied the out of tune laughter, but it rang in my head clearer than small town church bells.

"No Sir," I whispered using my tongue to wet my lips. My mouth was dry around him but my pussy was drenched, this conflict of emotions fit perfectly into our arrangement.

This time he lowered his lips to my ear, my addicted body responded to the drug that he is and I felt my nipples harden beneath my dress as his breath fanned my neck.

"Do not lie slut, that will only increase my anger."

My lungs shrank, refusing to release the breath I had taken. I struggled to form an idea of what he would do to me, how he would use my body to atone for the wrong I had done. My womb quivered at the thought. Before I could respond a high-pitched voice called from behind us.

"William, how lovely to see you darling," an older woman with unnaturally blonde hair walked up to us her arms open to embrace my Master. She looked like she had just walked off the set of Stepford Wives.

"Melissa, the pleasure is mine," they embraced and exchanged "cheek kisses" as I called them. I never understood the practice, but rich people loved kissing each other on the cheek.

"Michael informed me that you were able to wrestle Stein into a contract, congratulations."

"Thank you Melissa, I had my fair share of battle wounds."

Melissa laughed a clear "I have humor as long as it's rich" laugh and squeezed Sir's arm before sliding her blue eyes over to me. I felt threatened but not in a way that would make me submissive as Master does more in a "I don't like you at all and we have to be cordial" way.

"And who is this?"

Master opened his mouth to introduce me, but I talked first.

"Marie," I said in a matter of fact way. I couldn't tell what I didn't like about her or what she didn't like about me, but I was not intimidated by her slightly narrowed stare. That's strike three I thought to myself, I won't be able to walk for a week.

"Interesting, not the name I expected," her voice was polite, but her words were sharp.

I smiled pettily, and the me before Master flourished to the surface "Strange, my Nanny was named Melissa, you two bare a strong resemblance."

I didn't have a nanny at all, I grew up in a family that was only middle class by the skin of our teeth, but I appreciated the face she made briefly thinking of herself in such a lowly position. It was honestly the highlight of my night. She regained herself enough to meet Will's gaze again.

"It was lovely seeing you," her emphasis was on the 'you' to punctuate how unpleasant I was.

That sentence lit the bulb in my head and fear pumped cold blood threw my body. I was in a shit ton of trouble and the intense grip on my hip casually reminded me just how screwed I was. Master removed his hand to do the cheek kisses again and I wanted to run off and hide in a corner. What did I do? Oh my goodness why didn't I just shut up? This day isn't getting any better.

I stole a glance at my Sir who refused to look at me and watched as the evil bitch walked off. What should I do? Not defend myself? I was his slave not hers. But that thought didn't help, it clarified that I had monumentally fucked up. A sigh heaved my shoulders, I wanted this day to end.

For the rest of the party I held my tongue choosing to speak in half sentences to the people Sir introduced me to. I was still pleasant and engaged with all of them careful not to continue digging the hole that I fell face first into, but my mind was not on the party.

It was on Him.

There was only 1 time that I had truly been punished without pleasure or remorse. It was, ironically, for the same thing I had just done. Master's biggest pet peeve was his reputation taking a hit. Which I could understand, knowing his job. I had never been in this world of elites before him.

My day to day life had consisted of working at Cinnabon and taking care of my 2 younger siblings. I always made fun of the people in the mall around me spending exurbanite amounts of money on trivial things. It also made me bitter, that my weekly $200 paycheck went to necessities that my father could no longer afford. Clothes, groceries, and utilities. I had always imagined that at 23 I would be on the other side of this counter.

Master happened to be one of the customers that walked up during a painfully slow Tuesday shift. It was me and Yasmine on shift and Yasmine was rolling her 5th batch of dough for cinnamon rolls that were not needed while I swept crumbs that weren't on the floor.

When he approached the counter, my heart skipped. He had on the typical casual rich man clothes. Ironed jeans with a very nice belt and a tucked in silk peach button up. He held a small Armani bag in his hands and his eyes were on me almost as if I was prey. The look should have been terrifying from an older man. But I was enthralled. His green eyes shone as if all the light in the mall reflected in them he was well groomed and wore a clean cut and trimmed 5 o'clock shadow that looked like it never made it to 6. Dark brown grey hair was shaved down neatly at the edges and darkened into waves at the top of his head.

Dumbly, I stood there staring at him and holding the bent handle stick of the family dollar broom. He flashed a smile presumably at my clumsiness and I saw a deep dimple form along the left side of his cheek.

I gave him my number when he asked without hesitation which was unusual for me. My coworker Yasmine made it clear that she was appalled with my choice of older man. I haven't regretted it since, except that day.

We were at a yacht party in Florida and I was experiencing two things I had never done before. Travel and partying on a boat. I had drank a little too much and gotten a little too loose. My mouth has a habit of running away from my brain when I drink and I ended up saying things to a young woman that I hadn't realized was a bad idea. Rumors ran rampant and thankfully Master is an artful manipulator and divergent and the topic was soon put to rest. I however was introduced to his real wrath.

Up until then pain begot pleasure. I would be paddled and flogged my body used and tormented in ways I never imagined possible, but I also received pleasure unlike any I had ever experienced and I loved it.

This time however was different.

He waited until I was sober. We were in the presidential suite of the Marriott and I woke up feeling like a train had hit me. I had forgotten what happened last night and now I was disgusted at myself for acting how I had in front of Master. I didn't party often and I also didn't drink a lot, it was hard to do both when you were responsible for other people. I crawled from beneath the stark white comforter and made my way to the adjoined bathroom.

I looked a hot mess, my curly hair was a tangled nest and my eyes had darker than normal rims around them. I would say I'm not beautiful, but it was hard to care about those things when beauty didn't pay bills.

My hair was dark brown and had tight coils that fell just beneath my shoulders when curly, but met the small of my back when straightened. I had a small nose and plump heart shaped lips that for some reason consistently looked trapped between a smile and a frown. My mothers native heritage gave me almond eyes and high cheekbones but I got my round face a Nubian nose from my father. I was "blessed" with a full figure, my hips curved like mountain roads and my breasts ensured I had to by a large shirt no matter how much I ran. All in all I could be worse.

I ran water over my face and threw my thick curls into a quickly brushed ponytail too anxious to see Master to care about all the kinks.

The curtains were drawn wide open and morning light flooded the cherry wood of the 100th floor. I scanned my eyes across the sleek furnishings of the front room until they rested on my Sir. He was wearing a polo t shirt with blue jeans a small plate of toast and white mug with billowing steam sat next to an open newspaper in front of him. I didn't think Sir noticed me and took a small step towards him.

"Crawl slut."

His voice didn't raise to a yell but instead was lowered to a deep menacing tone that I hadn't heard from him. A voice that halted my breath. I quickly dropped to my knees keeping my head down and crawled along the polished floor to the barstool where he sat.

I assumed the presentation pose he taught me arching my back I sat on my haunches and spread my thighs apart placing my hands palms up against my legs, and hanging my head low. Nothing happened. Master didn't look at me or acknowledge my presence beyond that command. Sipping his coffee he finished his toast and finally closed the newspaper.

"Clean this mess."

Masters tone hadn't changed but he got up and walked away. I stood and gathered the dishes from the counter. The kitchenette was full service and I made short work of washing the two dishes and wiping down the counter before returning to my knees. Master had pulled a basic chair into the center of the living room. Right in front of the large floor to ceiling windows.

"Come here whore."

I crawled into the living room and knelt in front of him. He had taken off his shirt but kept the jeans.

With a rough grip he grabbed my ponytail yanking my head back to look at him. I saw the fire in his green eyes that matched the anger in his tone.

Swallowing I held back tears and resolved to pleading, "I am so sorry Master," my own words seemed to be fighting through the lump in my throat and only made the escape half way.

"Shut the fuck up slut."

Master yanked my head again pulling me off my knees and onto unsteady legs. I clamped my mouth tight not wanting to anger him any further. I had never seen this side of him before and I was genuinely terrified.

Using the grip on my hair he turned me around and shoved me down, bending me over the wooden chair. The back of the chair pushed roughly against my stomach and I reached out placing my hands on the seat to steady myself. Due to my position my toes were balancing tediously on the floor and supporting most of my weight.

"Don't move cunt."

Master released the hold on my hair and I dropped my head. Sir's strong grip pulled on my hips yanking my body back until my breasts were pressed against the back of the chair. Rope wrapped around my arms and linked through the sides of the chair bounding me to the upright wooden bars.

"Spread."

I wiggled my toes enough to spread my legs, it wasn't enough and his knee wedged between them pushing my feet into a wide stance I stood on the very tips of my toes. I felt the cold hardness of steel as my Master cuffed both ankles.

After he finished binding my arms he walked to the front of the chair. I tried to close the distance between my legs to maybe put more weight on the pads of my toes instead of the tips, and that's when I realized Master had used a spreader bar instead of cuffing me to the legs of the chair. I lifted my head to shoot a watery eyed glance towards him.

"I am very disappointed in you slut."

That hurt, I knew he was angry and for some reason I could deal with angry better then disappointed.

"I trust you enough to bring you around my acquaintances, and you make me look like a fucking fool."

My heart burned, "I am so sorry Master I-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he shoved two fingers into my mouth gagging me with their intrusion. His hand thrust roughly in and out choking me with the rapid movement. Then he hooked his fingers in my cheeks and pulled my mouth wide open. My jaw ached from how wide he forced it.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

I tried to nod but his hand prevented even that as drool pooled over my lips and dribbled down my chin.

"You understand that's the problem, right slut? You talk too fucking much."

He released my jaw and my mouth snapped shut.I nodded without saying anything as he wiped my slobber across my face. I was scared, and in pain from the way the chair dug into my sternum, but mostly I was terribly turned on.

I could feel my juices begin to slide down my thighs. I turned and looked out the window that I was exposed in front of, shame flooded through me and I opted to stare at the seat of the chair.

"Have we not been over how you are to act in public?"

I didn't know whether to answer and just nodded my head in defeat. We had, many times.

"You are proving to be a slower learner than I thought."

I was crushed, I'm not a slow learner. I was drunk, stupidly fucking drunk. My tears finally made their plummet landing on the wooden chair beneath me. Master walked away. I heard him rustling in the room I had woken up in. A growl of frustration sounded and hard footsteps returned to the cherry floor.The unmistakable sound of a belt being ripped through jean loops split my ears.

"Consider yourself lucky Slut. I don't have my tools."

Of all the things one would consider lucky, being on the brunt end of a thick Italian leather belt would not be one, for most.

The first impact was my right ass cheek. I still remember the way I jerked against the chair, how my breath was sucked from my lungs, the searing burning pain that crackled across my ass. I must of screamed but I was too dazed to hear my own voice. It had never been like this.

Masters hits were artful they stung, it hurt but there was pleasure. This was unyielding pain, the full fury of Masters power in that one hit. I heard the crack of the belt before the next burning blow against my other cheek.