Master Jonathans Alison

“Position three!” Jonathan snapped the words at Alison, who was standing in front of him. She immediately lowered her naked body onto its knees; her hands clasped behind her back, and bowed her head, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. She listened to her Master’s footsteps as he left the room. His demand for “position three” was almost always followed by his departure; he knew that her mind and body would be gripped by anticipation as she waited for his return.

Today, however, Alison’s thoughts drifted away from the discomfort of her bare knees on the wooden floor; she was unaware of the slight breeze from the open window that made her nipples stand up firmly. Her thoughts were going back to that day a few months ago when she had first met Jonathan in a local pub. If she had known then how he would turn her life inside out, would she have walked away? Too late to speculate about that now, she told herself, in the past months Jonathan had demanded and been given her submission to his will. But, he had also given her a love deeper than any she had ever known before, and shown her that pleasing him through her submission and the enduring of pain for him touched something so very deep inside her; something that made her complete.

Alison shifted her knees slightly on the floor, but although she was still alone in the room, she neither raised her head nor removed her hands from behind her back. She remembered the first time she had felt his whip on her body. She had been terrified and longing for it at the same time. When the whip had struck her ass for that first time, the pain of it brought tears to her eyes, but also a feeling of “rightness” inside herself. (Of course, she’d since discovered that what had made her cry that day was a mere caress compared to the severity of the whippings he now gave her.)

How long had she been alone now, waiting for her Master to return? Alison shifted her knees again on the floor, her thoughts no longer serving as a distraction from the discomfort. After several more increasingly uncomfortable minutes, during which her anticipation finally began to torment her, she heard his footsteps approaching and then saw his bare feet as he stopped directly in front of her.

“Did you miss me, my little slut?” She could hear the smile in his voice. She nodded her reply. Her lackadaisical way of answering seemed to annoy him. “Position seven!” It took her a moment to filter through all the positions stored in her mind; he kept adding new ones and she’d already had to memorise over 20 of them. Her hesitation annoyed him further and she could hear the anger in his tone when he repeated, somewhat louder this time, “Position seven!”

By now, she had retrieved it from her memory, and quickly moved to assume it. She put her hands on the floor in front of her, lowering her body towards the floor until her small, firm ass was high in the air and her face was less than two inches away from his bare feet, her long auburn hair framing his feet. Her breasts were pushed uncomfortably hard against the floor in this position, a little “added extra” she knew he enjoyed. Jonathan raised his left foot, and placed it to the side of her head, securely pinning her down with her hair. Now any attempt to move more than an inch would only result in her hair being painfully pulled. He lifted his right foot, so that only his heel was resting on the floor and his toes were almost touching her face and said, so softly that she could hardly hear him, “Show your Master how much you love him.”

Despite the softness of the request, Alison didn’t hesitate to comply. She opened her mouth, and sucked his big toe into her mouth. She could feel the grittiness of the dust that had stuck to his skin when he had walked across the room on her tongue, but that unpleasant sensation only made her lick more, determined to clean her Master’s foot. She dipped her tongue into the crack between his big toe and the next, cleaning there too, circled his big toe one more time with her tongue, and then pulled back slightly, removing her Master’s big toe, which was glistening with her saliva, from her mouth. She moved her head slightly to the left and quickly drew the second toe into her mouth, giving it the same attention as the first.

When Alison had finished cleaning all five of her Master’s toes and began sweeping her tongue as far down the sole as she could reach, she suddenly heard a swishing sound, a fraction of a second before the whip connected with her ass. She cried out, more from surprise than from the severity of the stroke, and instinctively moved back. That was a mistake that caused her to cry out again, this time in genuine pain, as the movement pulled her trapped hair.

“Continue licking!” Jonathan spoke softly; he seldom raised his voice to her, but she knew all the same that to obey was her only option. Alison’s tongue continued its journey up and down as much of her Master’s sole as she could reach, and Jonathan continued whipping her ass while she paid homage to his foot. The lashes rapidly increased in severity and after about 10 of them, Alison began moaning with each one, her breath softly caressing her Master’s damp sole. Suddenly she realised that he had paused between lashes, and she tensed in anticipation, knowing that after the pause, the whip would strike her for the last time. And, this she had learnt very early in their relationship, the last stroke was always the most severe by far!

Alison had barely completed the thought, when the whip came down extremely hard on the left cheek. Alison made a sound that was a mixture between the sounds of a whimpering puppy and a squealing pig. She was aware of no part of her body other than that thin strip of skin on her ass where the whip left its mark. Jonathan pulled his foot away from her face, released her hair and said, “Position one, my little slut.”

Alison immediately scrambled up, ignoring the fire that was still to be felt on her ass, and stood in front of her Master, legs apart, arms folded in the small of her back, leaving her ass free for his inspection; her head was up but her eyes were shut. She sensed him moving behind her to inspect her ass. She knew that her Master liked looking at the marks he left on her body. He called them her “badges of courage”, an expression that filled her with pride. Alison trembled as she felt his hand gently tracing the line of that last, oh so painful, lash. His hand continued moving downwards, and she knew that he was about to use his fingers to confirm what he already knew.

“Shall we see if you liked the whip today?” Alison felt two of her Master’s fingers push deep into her pussy. He kept them there for a few delicious seconds before slowly pulling them out. Alison felt bereft when her pussy was empty again. “I think I’ll have to call you ‘my pain slut’ in future.” Alison could hear the chuckle in Jonathan’s voice. Her Master moved to stand in front of her. “Open your eyes!”

Alison complied and saw her Master’s wet fingers only for a moment before he pushed them into her mouth and she automatically began cleaning them, tasting herself, her arousal on her Master’s skin. When the last trace of her had been licked away, Jonathan gently pulled his fingers out her mouth, and put his arms around her, holding her close. Alison snuggled up to her Master, feeling loved and secure within his embrace.

I don’t usually write more than one story about the same characters, but somehow Alison and Jonathan “grew on me” while writing, and I can’t help but feel there’s more to tell about them. Should I continue their story? Please let me know through your feedback and your votes!