Petal's Punishment

Author's note: This was my first experience at punishing Ariel and for me holds a lot of fond memories . . . hopefully those leading or that have led the lifestyle will be able to relate to the intricacies and smile at the inexperience, hopefully it will bring back some fond and maybe tearful memories. As always a big thanks to angel love who really is one, for all the advice and hard work in the editing . . . the Title is her idea too.

The night is still, with not a sound to break its stillness. The moon shines down from a cloudless sky, as a soft evening breeze blows, sending kisses of its caressing coolness throughout the land. I am; however, unaware of all this, as I busily prepare for our special evening. Hurriedly I jump into the shower, turning the water from hot to cold repeatedly till my body tingles. Turning off the water I step out and vigorously proceed to dry myself and quickly dress; a black turtle neck, a black suit, all black. 'Black, the color of evil,' I think to myself. Funny how it's my favorite color.

I hastily complete my dressing and make my way out the door. On the way down from my penthouse apartment I take a look at myself in the mirror in the elevator. At 5'10, with light brown skin and eyes, short cut black hair, athletic build, I like what I see and give myself an approving smile as the elevator reaches the ground floor. I make my way to my car, checking to see if my black bag of toys is in the back, before I start off to my destination.

I drive quickly, the excitement building slowly as I near my destination.

I arrive, and quickly make my way over to a non-descript red door, retrieve the key from its customary place under the door mat and let myself in. The house is dark, completely dark. I smile to myself . . . 'So it's a little game she wants to play?' I think to myself as I make my way along the dark passage that leads to the living room.

Turning the handle, I let myself in. I turn around and appreciatively survey the beautiful scene that greets my eyes. The room is lit only by the soft glow of candles, and the wondrous scent of jasmine fills the air. Jasmine, a scent to excite; jasmine, a scent to delight; jasmine the perfect scent for a romantic night.

In the middle of the room, with the candle light reflecting off her skin making it seem as if it were of gold, she knelt. Wearing nothing but the sheer silk bodice that I had brought her, she knelt eyes down, waiting in anticipation for me. I could see her quivering in anticipation.

I decided to make her wait a bit, before walking up to her and saying, "Hello Ariel."

"Hello Master," she whispers, "How are you?"

"Fine, fine petal," I reply absent mindedly stroking her hair. "And you?"

There is silence and I feel her shaking. She is apprehensive, maybe even afraid, "And you?" I repeat myself, this time in a firmer voice.

"I ha . . . ha . . . have something to confess, Master," she whispers her voice barely audible.

I gaze down at her, not saying a word, waiting for her to continue.

"I have broken your trust, I didn't mean to b . . . b . . . but I just couldn't help myself. I went there today," she says with a sob, glad to be rid or her burden.

I can see the fear in her eyes. Her lips quiver; her little body shakes and little tears roll down her face.

Walking to the couch I sit down, and stare at her, letting the uncomfortable silence build. She stares at me with those limpid eyes, wanting to say more, so much more. She wants to explain, but she knows by the darkening expression on my face that the less she says at this moment the better it will be. Finally when she can stand it no longer, I speak.

"Well petal, it seems you have problems following simple instructions. Tell me petal, shall I learn a new language, to perhaps express my instructions to you more clearly. German perhaps, maybe French or would you prefer Spanish as I seem to be the one unable to make instructions clear to you," I say, my voice quiet but each word hitting her like a whip.

Silence . . . pin drop, deafening silence ensues.

"Well, petal are you still having problems understanding, as I hear no reply?" I demand.

I can see her biting her lip. She is torn between answering and risking my wrath, and not answering and risking my wrath. "I see that insolence is a habit that you have developed too, in addition to disobedience," I say. "You haven't even the courtesy to reply to a question?"

Getting up and walking briskly over to her, I grab her by the hair, and bringing her face close to mine, I whisper, "You do not know, how much you disappoint me, petal."

Pulling her up by her hair to a standing position and still firmly holding her hair, I drag her down to the basement where I have created my temporary dungeon. As I drag her down there, a thousand forms of punishment flashed through my mind, severe pain, torture, denial ... 'Yes, denial,' I think.

Reaching the basement I proceed to where there is a pair of restraints embedded in the wall and commence to bind her. She is crying now, scared, frightened. I long to take her in my arms and tell her she is still my petal, but I harden my resolve, she must be punished. Going to the velvet lined jeweled glass cabinet, I select my favorite . . . crop, smooth with the shaft and handle velvet lined.

I pick it up and gently caress it as I would do her cheeks or hair. Holding it gently in my hand I walk over to her, picking up on the way a simple sleeping mask. I place the mask over her eyes, but before doing so, I stare deep into them. Her fear is primal, animal even, she wants to run, her mind is in turmoil, she wants to run . . . to run into the night and let the darkness swallow her up. Her emotions show on her face as clear as the light of day.

Noting her terror I chuckle to myself, in some way pleased that my displeasure has such an effect on her. I place the mask over her eyes, depriving her of her sight. Sight, vision, how we take it for granted, how precious we realize it is when we are robbed of it and enveloped in only our darkness, with only our thoughts to keep us company, with only or desires to drive us on, with only our passions to light our way.

I step back, letting her take in the darkness and letting her become one with it till she can no longer distinguish and the only sound that is audible is that of my steady breathing. I raise the crop and gently run it down her body tracing out the contours oh so softly and oh so gently; almost as if it were my own fingers trailing lovingly down her beautiful body. As I work my way down her body I see the tension slowly begin to leave her and the taut muscles of her body slowly relax.

Thud, the sound reverberates though the room as my palm makes contact with her rosy red cheeks. She gasps, perhaps in pain, perhaps in pleasure or perhaps in anticipation of more. I take my time waiting for the redness and the stinging pain I know that my slap must have caused, and follow it up with one, two, three more. She is not gagged. Except for the gasp that escapes her lips she makes not a sound.

The room is deathly silent as I slowly unbutton her bodice, button by button, my fingers lightly brushing her skin, each touch soft and trailing, with the promise of so much more to come. Finally, when she is naked, I step back and survey her. She is beautiful, with her small 5'1" frame, the azure blue eyes, the rosy red lips and the slim and slender neck sloping gently to the small and frail shoulders. I'm mesmerized by her milky white breasts with those beautiful rose tipped nipples, her slender waist, the smooth shaven pubic area and her well-formed and shapely legs. Yes she is beautiful, stunningly so and she still takes my breath away and ignites in me the same passion she did when I first met her.

Bending my head forward I suck on one nipple then the other. Gently I attached a pair of silver vibrating nipple clamps and set the level to soft. I can see the pleasure on her face as they quietly begin to hum. Trailing my fingers further downward I find her clitoris, gently massaging it with my thumb and then my fingers till she begins to squirm in pleasure.

I reach for a nearby dildo and insert the tip lightly into her and turn it on till it is gently vibrating in her. Focusing my attention back to her nipples I turn the setting up a notch, watching her intently, waiting for the signs. I have not long to wait, for soon the familiar red flush creeps over her and her breathing becomes harder and faster. Swiftly but gently I remove the nipple clamps and the dildo and wait.

"Master...," her voice is but a whimper, yet even within that whimper I can sense the desire, the want, the passion for release. Thud, again the sound reverberates through the room as I hit her.

"Did, I tell you to speak, petal? Did I?" I say as I reattach the nipple clamps this time starting off at a higher setting and reinserting a slightly larger dildo, slightly deeper within her. Again I watch, I wait and again at the appropriate moment I deny her.

Untying her I turn her around, so that her back is toward me and again I refasten the restraints. Picking up the forgotten crop I thwack, thwack, thwack hit her across her rounded bottom each stroke leaving a beautifully formed red welt across an equally beautiful derriere, each stroke inflaming my desire as well as hers.

"Are you aware of what you have done wrong, petal?" I ask.

"Yes master, I am, and I apologize, I am truly sorry," she replied.

I hear the truth the honesty, the sincerity in her voice, and I untie her. Taking her in my arms I carry her to the bedroom, kissing her deeply. I make love to her with a passion that I did not know I have or possess. She in turn gives herself to me completely, her mind her body her soul . . . her submission. We melt into one another Dom to sub, sub to Dom till we are no longer Dom and sub, but one.