Nothing Hurts Lie Your Mouth

"Come to bed, Domina," he implored, standing naked before me.

I looked at him, the beautiful man with the gravelly voice, who for some reason let me call him MINE ALONE. He was naked, his perfect uncircumsized cock the most aesthetically pleasing thing in the world. Except of course for his ass, an ass that seemed almost too beautiful to be on a man's body. He wanted me to come to bed with him.

"No," I said, coldly, "I'm not ready for bed." I stood there, inches from him, wearing that black, strappy two-piece dress I'd been in since we'd left for the club hours ago. Now we were back at home and I hadn't undressed. The dress was couture, but I wore it like armor. Not that I was marching 'round the house, no, I wore the dress like a suit of armor in that I was AT WAR with everything and everybody. But most of all myself.

"Domina," this time he raised his eyes and looked me full in the face, "we both know you are beyond ready for bed. You've not slept last night. I saw you take your sleeping pill as usual, and yet you tossed and turned, and screamed out. And when I tried to hold you, you...Domina, you said you couldn't breathe with my arms around you. Do I smother you?"

"You know you don't," I said, "but you know the mouth on me. My pretty mouth will say the ugliest of things at times. It's not your fault, Pet. Your Domina's mind is broken."

"So come to bed," he tried again, "a good sleep will fix the broken inside of you."

"I've betrayed someone who considered me a friend, Pet," I half-yelled, "her Master wanted her to rest and get well so he could take her out on the boat this weekend and she refused to rest, and kept pestering me. Me, being in a bad mood from having not slept last night, went behind her back and told her Master she was refusing to rest so that he would remove her from pestering me, and thusly betrayed her. I feel like Judas, waiting to collect my thirty pieces of silver for betraying Christ to the Romans."

"Sleep, Domina, please. Tomorrow in the light of day, your friend and her Master will get word to you saying neither of them has found any fault with you."

"No," I asserted myself again, "I hate myself and want very much to do myself harm."

"You drain me, Domina," he said, "mentally and emotionally. I wish you would instead drain me sexually. But I see that will not happen this night. If you absolutely must hurt something, we will go into the bedroom, and you can use the rattan cane on my buttocks as much and as hard as you please. I'll not safe word out."

"No, Pet, it's not you I wish to hurt. I'd not mar that gorgeous hide of yours for anything. Go to bed yourself, I'll be along in my own time." He sighed, turned around, and headed for the bedroom, knowing he would sleep alone tonight.

For my part, I sat down on the couch, picked up my evening bag, and fished out my antique silver cigarette case. I lit up a Dunhill International, my all-time favorite brand of cigarette, and between deep inhales, I pulled out my phone. I checked missed calls, texts, and e-mails for a message from either my friend or her Master, but there was none. I did have a message from my friend's brother, who said he did not want to get in the middle of my feud with her, but that he believed I made an enemy of her. And that it looked to him like I was trying to stir up trouble between her and her Master. I fired back at him with both barrels, saying I didn't NEED him to get in the middle, that I could take care of myself, and that I neither needed nor expected forgiveness from her, her Master, or himself (the brother, that is) and furthermore, if the three of them wanted me to have no further contact with them, if they wanted to go so far as to tell me they'd prefer I no longer socialize within the same circles as them, I would abide that. He (the brother, again) sent me another message, as I sat on the couch and chain-smoked, my mouth starting to taste very much like an ashtray, saying once again that he refused to get in the middle of it, and that I should stop talking about it. I put my umpteenth cigarette out in the crystal ashtray, suddenly more angry with myself than I had been all night. I picked up the ashtray and hurled it across the living room. It bounced off a wall, shattered, and hit the floor in a spray of cigarettes and crystal.

That felt good, so I went in search of more things to break. I found the makeshift bar in the dining room. I didn't drink anymore, and Pet had never been a big drinker. But we kept a few dusty bottles around for when company came. I picked up a bottle of Knob Creek bourbon. That had been my go-to when I was drinking, but tonight I didn't want to open the bottle and sip. I flung the bottle at a framed picture that hung over the credenza. The result...broken bottle, broken glass that had encased the picture, broken life, broken girl.

All this noise brought Pet from the bedroom. Still nude, he came out holding an oversize pillow before him as a shield. "Domina," he said, his mouth quivering, "what are you doing? I found what's left of the ashtray in the living room."

"I need you to do something, Pet, something the likes of which I've never asked you to do before."

"Your eyes are crazy. Come away from all this broken glass and I'll do whatever you ask of me."

"Let's go into the bedroom, Pet." In the bedroom, I shed my dress like a warrior sheds a kevlar vest. Naked, I took the rattan cane down from where the canes, crops, and floggers hung like pool cues along the bedroom wall. I saw Pet get down on all fours, and I said, "No, I meant what I said about not wanting to mar your gorgeous hide. Stand up, Pet."

"I don't understand," he stood up, confused.

I placed the cane in his right hand. "I can't do it for myself, Pet. I need you. I need this for me." I bent over so that my torso was on the bed, my feet on the floor, and my ass in the air. "I've done ugly things, Pet. I've betrayed my friend, interfered in her relationship with her Master. I've spoken to her and her brother in anger. I've hurt other people with my words, I've busted up our fucking house, all because I feel the need to be hurt and busted up myself."

"I understand, Domina," he nodded, "I don't want to but if this is what you need, then I will." He brought the cane down HARD across my buttocks.

I cried out, "Thank you, Pet". He brought the cane down nine more times, and I thanked him LOUDLY each time. After, he rummaged in a drawer. "What're you doing in that drawer?"

"Looking for some cream to put on your red bottom, Domina."

"Forget the cream," I said, "I feel alive and invigorated. And I believe you said something about wanting me to drain you sexually," I stood up, grinning wickedly. "You have done well by me, Pet, and you shall be rewarded." I stood, my ass stinging from the cane, turned to face him, planted a deep kiss on his mouth, and then knelt before him. I looked this man, this man who let me call him MINE ALONE, straight in the sex, and proceeded to worship him with my mouth.