Annabel & Her Master

Chapter I: My punishment.

I am half-asleep when I hear my Master's key in the bedroom door. H e has left me here alone most of the day and as usual I can only imagine where he's been. While I am chained here, for his pleasure, as he says, like an exotic beast. Today, my bondage allows me to venture within about thirty feet of the bed but no more, just as much as is absolutely necessary. The stiff silver collar around my neck is locked to a delicate but effective chain attached to the wall behind the bed. Wide leather cuffs extend over the middle half of each arm, covering my elbows to keep me from bending them. These are clipped together in the back forcing my back into a slight arch; Master finds this more elegant than cuffing at the wrists and claims that it eliminates resistance before it begins. Otherwise, I am naked, except for the long brown hair that hangs nearly to my waist, now in two loose pigtails on either side of my head one covering each shoulder. My pussy has been waxed almost entirely bare except for a soft little triangle just above the tiny platinum ring in the hood of my clit. This ring, an ornament containing my Master's monogram, is all the jewelry I wear.

Master doesn't always leave me with my arms cuffed during the day. Often I am free to roam around the bedroom; to sit at my dressing table, take baths, rummage in the closet, read novels (those that he deems appropriate) perhaps even smoke a cigarette on the balcony whenever he leaves some for me in his silver cigarette box. On those days I occupy myself with activity: writing love letters to give Master when he comes home (which he adores) and making clothes out of the beautiful fabric that he brings me.

But not today. Today I am being punished. Before he left this morning Master had given me not only a whipping but also a lecture, reprimanding my behavior, regretting that he had been too indulgent. H e strapped me face down on the bed and whipped me harshly with his belt leaving red marks all over my bottom, my legs, my back. Then he had slipped the cuffs over my arms, locking them together, and slid one of his favorite punishment toys deep inside my pussy. This toy is long and smooth like a regular dildo as he pushes it in, but once he has it inside of me, he turns a lock on the end and dozens of sharp metal bumps rise all over its shaft. In thi s w ay, not only is the toy uncomfortable to have inside me, but there is no way for me to remove it without causing damage to myself until he unlocks it with the key. This toy discourages all movement, because any shifting of position, sitting, or standing pushes the sharp bits uncomfortably into the sensitive walls of my pussy. Therefore although I was not confined to the bed, I laid there most of the day on my stomach or my side, my pussy prickling, my arms sore, feeling sorry for myself, waiting for Master to return.

Usually, when Master comes home in the evening, I greet him joyfully, ending whatever task I've engaged with and kneeling by the door to wait for him, my heart pounding at his arrival. Often he brings me little presents, flowers, clothes, sweets. But today, when I hear him coming up the stairs, I decide to pretend I'm sleeping.

The door opens. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him in the mirror. H e takes off his coat and scarf and hangs them in the closet. H e moves quietly as if he thinks I may be sleeping. Softly he approaches the bed.

"Bella." H e whispers. "Bella." H e knows I am awake. H e sits on the bed beside me stroking my head. I moan softly and turn away from him. Suddenly he yanks on my pigtail harshly. "Is that any way to greet me when I come home?" H e asks.

"No, Sir." I answer quickly, coming to my senses. I struggle to sit up but encounter the difficulty of my bound arms and the sharpness in my pussy all at once. I look at him and pout.

" H ave you been laying here all day?" H e asks me. I nod as sadly as I can. H e unlocks my arms and they fall exhausted to my side. "Lazy little girl!" H e admonishes, knowing full well that I had little choice in the matter. " H as this morning's punishment taught you nothing?"

This is a trick question and I decide to skip it and just apologize, addressing the matter at hand. "Master, I'm sorry I was disrespectful when you came in just now."

"And to think, I was coming here to untie you, free you of this thing," he taps the base of the toy, "and give you a bath. But now, I don't know if you deserve that yet." H e turns me over onto my back and begins to run his hands over my body. H e touches the ring by my clit, tracing his initial s w ith his thumb . D.M.C. H e notices my pussy i s w et. " H ave you been thinking naughty thoughts?"

What else was I supposed to do all day, I wonder. "Yes, Sir." I breathe.

"Look how wet you are, my God." H e takes the base of the toy and gently turns it from side to side causing me to jump.

"Ow." I complain.

"Oh, does that feel tender?" H e turns the toy again.

"Ow!"

"Shhh." H e touches my lips. "You know what happens to noisy girls." H e waits. "What happens to noisy girls, Bella?"

"They have to be gagged."

"At the very least." Master is regaining his good humor now and begins rubbing my clit with his slick finger. This causes me to clench my pussy resulting in even more discomfort. I pull away from his hand. H e slaps my clit hard. I react to the unexpected assault as silently as I can. My breathing sharpens. "Twice you've pulled away from me. Twice in a few minutes. H ow do you think that makes me feel, Bella?"

"Sad?" I guess hopefully. H e raises his eyebrows. "Angry?" I guess again more realistically.

"And I was so looking forward to a peaceful evening with you. I was gonna take you out for a nice dinner. Now I'm starting to think you may be missing dinner altogether." H is hands continue to move over my body. "And I was even more looking forward to fucking you," H e traces his finger over my lips sliding his fingers into my mouth, I suck gently. H is other hand covers my left breast. "But I certainly can't imagine you deserve that." H e pinches my nipple sharply forcing a moan. H e continues, encouraged. I guess I'll have to settle for some sort of compromise. H e returns to playing with my clit. I look up into his deep eye s w ith what I hope reads as an appropriate mixture of respect and fear, wishing to salvage the romantic evening described including dinner. I haven't eaten all day. H e's not buying it. H e smiles and kisses me on the forehead placing my hand on the front of his pants. I feel his cock, which is rock hard. "I've wanted to fuck you all day." H e repeats.

Often Master will come home for lunch during the day to make love to me; sometimes he will even bring me to his office to service him while he makes calls or writes letters. But today he left early in the morning without so much as a kiss and it is now well after dark.

"So what am I going to do about this, huh?" Master demands. "I can't reward a naughty girl." Master begins to unbutton his shirt while I stroke his cock through his pants. H e reaches for his belt and I shiver remembering this morning' s w hipping. H e smiles and slides off the belt letting it fall to the floor. I wonder what he has in mind. I hope that he is going to take this horrid object out of my pussy soon. But instead he undresses and turns me on my stomach. "Are you still sore from this morning?" H e asks caressing my ass gently.

I am not sure the safest way to answer. "A little, Sir." I tell him truthfully.

H e spreads my legs apart. "And how about your pussy? H ow does it feel?"

"Very sore, Sir." I tell him.

"So maybe fucking you wouldn't be that much of a reward today, would it?"

"No, Master, it wouldn't." I agree. Imagining that despite the soreness inflicted by the prickly object, it most certainly would be rewarding. I also have been thinking about him all day.

H e is now lying on top of my back whispering into my ear, holding my pigtail in his fist. "Well maybe I will fuck your pussy then. In a while. For now. I think. I'll take you here instead." H e spreads my leg s w ith his knees and reaches one more time to jiggle the cruel toy inside my pussy. H e pushes his cock against my ass. I sigh distastefully at the risk of further reproach but he is now so aroused he is unaffected. H e wraps his arms around me kissing my shoulder. "Are you going to be a good girl, Bella?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Open up for me." I try to relax as much as I can as he pushes his cock into my ass, deeper and deeper, inch after inch.

"Ow. Ow. Ow." I shout. The pressure of his cock inside me is crushing my pussy with the sharp toy inside and causing a lot of discomfort. I lift my hips to relieve it and he pulls back, slamming his cock into me harder this time.

"Mm, you feel good." Master tells me slamming me once again. "You're so tight." I am breathing very hard now and whimpering under him. "What's the matter, honey?" H e asks. "Does this hurt?"

"Yes, Sir. It hurts!"

H e has loosened me up a little and he is getting his rhythm down fucking me evenly with increasing speed. "Well, what did you expect, young lady? "

I try to make my body as relaxed as possible and enjoy what I can about the experience. Master's cock is huge and harder than ever inside me. The power and motion of him intoxicates me. The smell of his sweat and skin usually is enough to drive me into erotic bliss. H e reaches his hand under me to touch my clit. My pussy i s w etter than ever and my clit is swollen. "You lying little slut." Master whispers in my ear. "You're enjoying your punishment." H e begins to rub my clit firmly. I gasp. "You like my cock up your ass, you filthy little fuck-bitch?" H e rubs my clit harder; my ass clenches around his cock, my pussy clenches around the sharp metal spikes on the toy. I cry out. Master rubs harder and harder and I find myself in the throes of a hugely intense climax. I feel lightheaded and dizzy. I am overwhelmed by pain combined with intense enjoyment. I cum so hard I feel that I might pass out.

Master stops and lays down beside me on the bed. I curl up next to him exhausted, my body tingling. I begin to lick the sweat off his neck. "Meow." H e says. And strokes me like a kitty.

"Master..."

"Yes?"

I give him a pouty look. H e leans over and takes the key from his jacket pocket and slides the toy harmlessly out of my pussy. H e unbuckles the leather restraints on my arms. "Thank you, Master."

H e lays back down on the bed. "Well, love. I think I'm ready for my bath."

I go to the bathtub by the window and begin to draw him a bath. "Would you like bubbles, Sir?"

"Sure, I'll have bubbles."

Once the bath is running I go over to the bar in the corner to fix Master a drink. I bring it to him on the bed along with his cigarette case. H e lights a cigarette and I curl up next to him. H e massages my sore arms and kisses me tenderly. "Are you hungry, Belle."

"Yeah."

"I was thinking we could try that new Italian place. I hear it's supposed to be quite good."

We listen to music while he soaks in the bath and I model outfits for him. H e chooses a long purple silk dress and matching heels. I braid my hair while he dries off. H e watches me at my dressing table as I do my make-up. "You look so elegant in that pretty dress, no one would ever know that underneath you're just a dirty little slave girl: tied up in the house all day, getting fucked in the most inelegant ways, servicing me and my friends..." I smile. H e puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Except for the collar around my neck." I joke with him.

H e touches my collar. "It just looks like rubies set in a Tiffany silver necklace."

"It is just rubies set in a Tiffany silver necklace, Sir."

"But very custom."

"Very custom." I smile. Master designed the collar himself. It is a wide band of solid silver with no clasp or hinge. It just doesn't come off. On closer look, you can see the little metal loops embedded in the collar. These can be pulled out so that he may attach things to me, or me to things as necessity dictates. The front is covered with tiny rubies and Masters initials are engraved in the back. The collar is about an inch and a quarter wide and fairly thick. It looks just a tad more serious than an ordinary piece of jewelry. In the two and a half years since I've been wearing it I have gotten many, many comments not to mention the interrogations at airport security when I have to explain that, "Yes. It's true. There is really no way to remove it." When Master introduces me to his friends often it's the collar that seems to fascinate them even more than our relationship.

Master is now dressed in eveningwear, a lovely pale blue Gucci tie and a crisp ivory shirt. I help him with his cufflinks. H e pulls on his suit jacket and reaches for my arm.

Over dinner Master tells me that he has some important business associates from overseas coming into town. They were going to stay in a hotel but since they're likely to be working day and night with him on this deal, Master suggested they stay with us. "They're arriving tomorrow morning, Bella. And they will be staying indefinitely."

"And I'll be taking care of them?"

"And you'll be taking care of them."

" H ave you met them yet?" I ask curiously.

"You just want to know if they're handsome. Well yes, I've met them, and I'm not really a judge of these things but they seemed like fairly attractive men, yes. Any more questions?"

"No, Sir."

"Are you going to be a good little hostess."

"Yes, Sir." H e smiles and presses my hand under the table. I wonder what he has in mind for me.