Painful Lesson in Self Bondage

Tuesday nights for other attached couples meant dull chitchat after work, a thirty minute meal or takeout, tv and internet time, some more mundane talk, complaints about chores, and maybe sex. Our weekday nights had flare, adventure, and spontaneity. We always had small surprises for each other: a naughty piece of lingerie, a new toy, a new position, a new play scenario. My surprise for that Tuesday night was for sure going to turn him on.

My foot was heavy on the pedal. I glanced at the clock on the radio. 4:30. I had to beat him home in order for my stunt to work. I flew through the front door while calling his cell.

"Hey, my sexy, little whore!" I hated how casual he addressed me as his when others could be listening. I hoped no one else was in his office.

"Hiya, Sir. Just wondering, when will you be home?" I asked.

"I'll be leaving in ten. Why? What did you do?"

I guess my innocent question sounded too innocent. "Nothing...yet..."

He growled. "I'll be there in half an hour. You better be ready for me."

"Oh, I will. Don't you worry about that, Sir." I ended the call and placed the phone on the nightstand. I stripped off the skirt suit, heels, and everything underneath, tossing it all in a pile out of the way. After a quick piss, I opened the windows in the bedroom a crack. It was the first day after a horrendous heat wave with temperatures hovering just above 100. That beautiful day, no higher than 83 degrees, was a tiny tease of autumn. I breathed in the fresh, smog tainted air.

I turned from the window and in a rush, made myself presentable: high ponytail, red lipstick, skimpy thong, smoky eyes. I did a quick pick up of the room and dragged the heavy "star" to an empty spot of our bedroom. The star was a piece of furniture that my Master proudly constructed. When strapped to it, my limbs were stretched wide, and my body was at his mercy to flog and tease. I placed the key to its harness on the dresser nearby. I set the tit clamps, flogger, electric vibrator, and blindfold on the dresser too. I checked the clock. He would be home in ten minutes.

I situated the blindfold just above my eyes to where I could still see. I stepped up the harness and smiled imagining how hard he was going to be when he found me bound. I scooted the key out of my reach to avoid temptation. My legs were strapped in first, then my torso. I tugged the blindfold over my eyes and secured my left arm, stretched out and helpless to aid me any further. Using my teeth and still blinded, I tightened the strap on my other arm.

Bounded tightly, I waited.

I tried to relax. It would only be a few minutes more. I couldn't wait to hear him groan when he saw his whore on display. My panties were dampening at the thought. I was excited, and maybe too much for I wouldn't stop shaking.

But my muscles weren't causing the trembling.

It was a very slight vibration that exploded into a rumble. I heard the panes of the windows pounding within their frames. Items shuffled across rattling shelves and dropped to the carpet in thuds. Furniture thunked against the walls. The jostle of everything else was all I could hear as my poor body started to toss around in my shackles. I rocked violently against my star. It was going to fall. I knew it. Thank goodness nothing but the ceiling was above my head. But the force of the quake was strong, very strong.

I whimpered thinking of the house caving in on me, being trapped beneath the rubble, no escape. The star swayed and started tipping forward. I had no way to catch myself. All I could think was broken bones, pain, and no way for Daniel to get to me.

The star fell forward. I screamed. Something caught the star from falling all the way. I hung in the harness, screaming.

As a true born and raised California girl, I was never afraid of quakes. But the strength, the sounds of destruction, and being alone with a stupid blindfold keeping it dark was scary.

Then, suddenly, all was quiet.

"Daniel...please come home..." I whined and shook with a few dry sobs. My arms stretched uncomfortably against the star. It hurt my limbs with my weight leaning away from the frame. "Only a few minutes...please, God, only a few minutes..." What if he couldn't get to me? What if the traffic blocked him from coming home? What if something happened to him?

What if the ceiling collapsed? What if a fire started? What if I was left there for days?

My tears flooded my blindfold. I regretted my carelessness. Why didn't I think the damn thing over?

There was no way for me to locate the key. I was hopeless and fearing aftershocks. I wept for what seemed to be minutes. No quaking yet. He should have been home by then. Why wasn't he home?

My phone rang. It had to be him. It kept calling in intervals. I could imagine his fear when it went to voicemail each time.

Sirens screamed outside. Neighbors yelled to each other asking if they were all right. Calling for help crossed my mind. But my lack of garments and strapped to a bondage contraption made me think twice. I would only try if my life depended on it.

Finally, the front door opened.

"Jenni? JENNI!"

"Up here!" I yelled with everything I had.

"I'm coming, baby!" I could hear it all in his voice. He thought I was hurt and trapped. He vaulted up the stairs, panting and cursing as he collided with fallen objects. "Where are you?"

"In the bedroom!"

"SHIT, JENNI!"

"I'm so sorry."

"Fuck! What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I didn't know an earthquake was gonna happen! You were only a few minutes away, so I thought –"

"Not another word. We'll discuss this later." I felt his hands groping the harness. "Where's the key?"

"It was on the dresser."

"Found it." He unlocked my harness and freed me from all the straps. He ripped off the blindfold. I saw his angry face through my blurry eyes. He lifted me up and off of the star. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," I said between nervous gulps. He quickly located my robe and threw it to me. I slipped it on and held the front closed. He led me, with his hand tightly gripping mine, down the stairs at a run. I glanced at the mess around us. Glass from knickknacks spilled over the floor. A semi-sturdy bookshelf was propped up against our couch. Pictures were hanging askew on the wall or were on the floor. A huge mirror in a heavy frame had crashed onto a stand next to a chair. I had never seen so much destruction in my own house from a quake in my lifetime. The house was still intact, thank goodness.

As we hit the bottom step, the rumbling started. He yanked my hand and forced me through the front door in time. We ran to the end of the lawn, away from the house as much as possible. The front yard was safe; there were only a few young trees and no power lines close to us.

Daniel bent over, breathing hard. But he wasn't winded from running. He was trying to contain his anger. He glared at me, his lips tight and his eyes narrowed. I gulped. It must have been the neighbors outside that prevented him from taking his belt off and whipping me with it. He switched to "nice guy mode" when our neighbors approached us with questions and concerns.

We waited outside for hours. Neighbors drifted through our front yard to discuss the quake, pull out their phones, and repeat the same information about the magnitude and epicenter. Only a couple noticeable aftershocks occurred within that time. As the sun disappeared, Daniel wrapped his arm around me to keep me warm. We got the ok to go back inside. We carefully searched for flashlights, packaged food, water bottles, our phones, and blankets and camped out in the living room once we cleared some space. We both reached for the remote as soon as the power came back on. We watched a local channel that showed the same footage over and over.

Daniel was settled on the couch, eyes getting heavy and closing. The adrenaline was pumping for me. But when there wasn't any more information being discussed, I finally moved to the smaller couch and curled up to sleep.

~

I woke to the sound of a trash bag puffing up and saw Daniel holding it open to start shoving things inside.

"Good morning, Daniel." I shrunk under the sinister glare he gave me. "I mean, good morning...Sir?" It was acceptable enough for he turned away to toss more broken junk in the bag. I hurried away to take a piss, but he called to me as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Find your collar, and bring it to me." My stomach turned, and my mouth went dry. I knew it wasn't going to be a play session. I was in it deep. I wanted to beg for forgiveness and have him hold me after going through such a traumatic experience. That wasn't going to happen any time soon.

I climbed over the debris and quickly freshened up in the bathroom. I removed the collar from the hanger in his closet and returned to the living room. Head and eyes down, I gave him the collar and my freedom.

"Undress." I stripped off my clothes, the first part of losing my rights. "Kneel, slave." It hurt when he called me that. He reserved that word for when he was truly pissed at me. The way he said it, with disdain and anger, was enough for me to burst into tears. The loving man faded into the cruel Master I feared. He crouched down and buckled the leather to my neck. "I can't believe your stupidity. Where was your head when you decided it was a brilliant idea to lock yourself up? If you can't think straight, I'll do the thinking for you." He stood. I shrunk lower to the ground. "You are in no position to have any freedom until I forgive you. Prostrate now, slave."

I lay on my stomach before him, palms down and in front of my head, arms at ninety degree angles. My forehead rested on the dirty floor. I was in total submission and ready to cry.

"You will ask permission for everything. You will serve me and be completely obedient. You lost your privilege to walk, so you must clean all of this on your knees. If you have to reach for something higher than yourself, you may stand but must never take a step. Understand, slave?"

"Yes, Lord."

"One infraction, no matter how big or small, means twenty-four hours in the dungeon with additional punishments. You're lucky I'm not whipping you now. Cleaning up this place should be punishment enough, and I mean SHOULD. That can change. Get to work."

When I heard him leave, I slowly moved onto my knees. No breakfast, no shower. I didn't know how I would survive that day. I grabbed the nearly empty trash bag and started putting things in it. I went to work, weary and hungry. I heard him speaking on the phone. From listening to his side of the conversation, I understood that it was best for him to stay home, that his office was trashed. At that moment, I wished he went to work just to avoid his wrath.

It was hours later when came up to me. I lay before him again. "I don't trust any food in the fridge because of the electricity being off, so we'll have peanut butter sandwiches. You will have one and in the dog bowl."

"Yes, Lord."

Without taking a step, I successfully made lunch. I got on my hands and knees and ate only with my mouth. I've had a small amount of practice with that before. He rarely treated me like filth when I was in trouble. I would have rather taken minutes of being flogged or a hundred lashes with the belt than being subjected to the humiliation.

As the day dragged on, both my knees and my morale were hurting. It was harder to control the sniffling. I felt myself losing to my stubbornness and feared lashing out. Master had yet to forgive me. How can the man who was naturally fun, goofy, and loving be the same man that treated me worse than a dog? I would have killed to see his smile. Why did it always take so long for him to get over his anger? The more I served him that day, the closer I was to losing it. The reminder of the dungeon kept me from speaking out of line. I wished I could beg and scream for his mercy.

The sun started to set. I was exhausted from being his slave. I trembled as I lay before him when he called for me.

"Well, the place does look better than it was. But I think you should do more. I will call you again at midnight, then you may rest."

I caught his ankle before he could take a step back. "Please, Lord, haven't I been punished enough?" I prayed my plea would soften his heart. I was so wrong.

"What did you say to me?" I released his leg and lay low on the floor. "You've made a big mistake, slave." With a fistful of my hair, he dragged me to the garage, the dungeon. I couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears streamed down my face. He threw me to my blanket under a heat lamp and kicked away the mess around it. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the blanket. I meekly lay on it, my bed for the next twenty-four hours. "Stay. I will be back soon." I whimpered as I waited. There was no use trying to beg. My fate was sealed.

"On your back, property. Legs up and wide apart." I rolled over and spread my thighs with my ankles in the air. He knelt beside me and pinched my nipples roughly. The pain shot through my breasts as he attached the clamps; it felt as if he had adjusted them to the narrowest setting. The burn took forever to dull. I winced and tried deep breaths to conquer the pain.

"It was your damn horniness that got you into this mess. It's your pussy that should be punished." He shifted closer to me and raised his hand.

Smack!

His hand spanked my cunt, hard. It was a small sting, still uncomfortable. He raised his hand higher.

Smack!

I sucked in my breath.

"Let's get this fucking thing warmed up for my belt."

Smack smack smack!

The hits kept coming. The pain wasn't intense but the humiliation definitely was. He had never mistreated my cunt before. He glared at it, hating it. He stood and slowly unbuckled his belt. I hated how much time he took sliding that thing from the loops of his jeans. He had to make a show of it, especially how he took the time to perfectly fold it in half. He stood over me, facing away. The leather touched my clit. He adjusted the belt's position in his hand and practiced his aim. He brought the belt over his head and brought in down in a fury.

"AAAAHHHHHHH!" The leather landed directly on my clit. He raised his arm high again.

It stung. It burned. I screamed.

He kept thrashing me. My hands gripped my calves tightly at each hit. I was sobbing from physical pain and mental distress. At that moment, he despised his favorite part about me as if it were vulgar and the source of my naughtiness.

He finally stopped and moved away from me. My cunt was on fire. In a quick and fluid motion, he yanked the clamps off of me. My scream echoed within our dungeon. My tears came out full force.

"Roll over." I painfully did, shaking and begging the gods that it was over. "I have had it with my property thinking she can do whatever she wants. You're getting the whipping of your life, slave. Don't you dare move." It was always difficult to take a flogging still. My fingers clung to my blanket. My eyes closed tight.

I felt every little lash that spread across my back as each one licked the top layer of my skin. The bite took the breath out of me. It wasn't a flogger bought from a sex store that gave your lover a 'sting' that would have them purring with pleasure. It was one he constructed, one with many little, knotted ropes. It never made me bleed, but it did give me beautiful marks. Still, it got my attention.

He paused before each lash. I could feel him restraining from really giving it to me.

I yelped and curled up when I had reached my limit. "Please, Lord! I'm sorry! I'll never put myself in danger again...please...stop, Lord...I love you..." I looked up at him. He shook his head, but his raised arm didn't follow through. He sighed and lowered it to his side. I broke his anger. For a second, I saw the pain and fear in his eyes. I saw how terrified he was of losing me. His eyes closed briefly. When they opened, there was determination in them. The whip fell away from his hand.

"Property, I'm disappointed. You need to know how much." With that, he opened his zipper and pulled his dick out. I covered my face in time before his piss fell on me. From my hair down to my legs and back up, I was soaked by the stream. I cried as I heard him zip up his jeans. I heard his steps fade and the door slam shut.

"Lord..." I cried out. "Master..." I curled up and called his name over and over. He didn't come.

I covered myself in the pissed soaked blanket. I shivered although it was a summer night and I had a heat lamp on me. The tears slowed and fell every once in a while as I thought over my punishment. I could have used the safe word at anytime. I didn't even think to use it. I could have set boundaries. It wasn't his fault for punishing me so severely. At least that was what I believed. He was a good person, a loving person. He never meant to go that far.

My stomach cried for food. I drank all six water bottles next to me. He always kept water next to my blanket. He always made sure the heat lamp worked. He always made sure I was warm.

And, no matter how deep his rage, he always was sweet afterward.

The door opened. I adjusted my eyes to the light coming in and moved to lie face down. I felt the collar slip off my neck. I cried as he petted my hair.

"It's over, sweetie. Sir is sorry that he had to be so cruel. He was terrified that he would lose you. He promises that it will never be any more severe than that. He knows his girl will never to that again." He helped me up. "Come here, love. I will take care of you."

I stepped into the spotless house. A hot dinner was on the table. I felt like Jenni again. I devoured dinner and had a relaxing shower. His sweet words and the whip marks I observed on my body made me wet. He fixed the star and strapped me to it. He left the key in plain sight. The sex was better than usual, but just another weekday night in our house.