Under His Hand

The journal of a slave

Homecoming-Fiction

She met Him at the airport on Friday.. wearing the dark blue sundress with the white flowers and the spaghetti straps as He had requested. Heading towards the gate to meet Him she ducked quickly into a bathroom and slid her panties, damp with her excited juices, down her legs and wadded them into a ball in her hand. She exited the bathroom and hurried towards His gate, her face as flushed and warm as her crotch.

She was convinced everyone could tell that she wore no panties, or that the very smell of her sex was drifting around as cool air rushed up her dress as she hurried. By the time she reached His gate, she was panting and slightly sweaty… both from nerves and excitement. Her mind unable to completely dismiss the things He had told her.. His plans for her and their future together. Each remembered promise sent a zing of fear to her stomach, keeping her on just this side of nauseous.. and stopped hard at her crotch.

It had been a long and hard separation, this job of His taking Him from her for the last 19 terrible days. “but who’s counting?” she thought to herself as she wiggled in her chair. The arrival was listed as “on time” and it was time right now. Her eyes glued to the curtained doorway, willing Him to swagger through. She smiled, thinking of His eyes, the deep rumble of His laughter, His warm and calloused hands. Oh how she had missed His very being these 19 days!

She stood when the curtain swung open, eyes flicking impatiently over the exiting passengers. She searched above the crowd, for her Master was very tall and she knew she would spot His head before anything else. She became momentarily distracted as a young mother pushed her way out, comically followed by two very sticky toddlers who’s hands seemed glued, and probably were, to the poor woman’s pantleg. She watched as the woman half led, half dragged the children towards the restroom and squealed quite loudly when a large hand wrapped itself securely around her upper arm.

She instinctively jerked her arm up and backwards with a curt “Excuse me!”… her hand flipping through the air and catching the stranger who had just begun to lean towards her square on the jaw, her palm opening… and her wet and wrinkled panties flew through the air. Horror spread across her face in a race with the crimson blush when she caught sight of her bright red unmistakably-a-thong underpants sailing towards the steward’s desk. A second wave of horror, deeper than the first, catching her in the pit of her stomach, as she realized the stranger she had just clocked in the jaw was her Master.

“Oh my God Master I am so sorry!” she cried, and she moved towards Him and then remembered the errant panties and moved that way, stopped after thinking her first move should be to Him and she turned around again. And then stopped. And just stood still.

He watched her, rubbing His not-at-all-injured jaw, an amused smile crossing His face at her struggle. He looked over her shoulder to where the panties hung, by the ass-string of course, from the corner of the steward’s desk. He stepped around her then and snagged them off, swinging them on His finger, laughing delightedly at the look that came over her face. Her head whipped about, noticed that people were indeed watching this little scene and she hissed loudly at Him to “give them back right now!”

He obliged, moving close to her, panties held high above her head, thinking that He had only planned the panty removal as a bit of private humiliation between them but that this was much much better. He would no more pass up the chance to play this out then He would pass up the chance to give her the stars. And so He swung the panties… grinning.. and asked quite loudly, “Do these belong to you, Miss?”

She buried her face in her hands, horrified and humiliated. Giggles and snickers and some gasps of disapproval echoed through the terminal, landing in her ears. She peeked up at Him, at the hard glint in His eye and tried to match it with her own cold stare but she lost it when He held the red panties next to her face and commented that “they MUST be your’s as they match the color of your face perfectly!”.

She dissolved into embarrassed giggles then and fell into Him, as He wrapped His arms around her. He brought her close to Him, held her tight, breathing in the scent of her… the feel of her.. filling Himself with her very essence. It occurred to Him that as the Master it was unspoken that He be the strong one, the hard and cruel one… but that the very sight of her made His knees tremble and His heart pound. Her submission only gave Him the strength He needed to be the sadist of her dreams, as He turned her into the slave of His dreams.

And she pressed her hands to His chest, her palms dwarfed by the muscular body, searching for and finding His heartbeat and she leaned there, pressing her head to His chest. She had fallen asleep so many nights lulled by the rhythm of His heart, her head cradled to His body. It had become symbolic to her, that steady beat, unwavering, constant, and firm. Like His domination over her. Never failing. Never ending.

They stayed that way for a long time, leaning into each other. Murmuring words and phrases of love and missing you’s. He pulled back a little then, to look at her face, to see if the blush had receded yet. It never failed to delight Him, that in all the ways He had humiliated her, all the positions He had seen her in, that she still broke out in an innocent school-girl blush for Him. He thought He might die a little the day that stopped.

He brought the panties around front again and stuffed them playfully down the front of her dress, to which she yanked them out and with mock anger, swung them at Him, slapping Him lightly over the arm while she haughtily quipped “And to think I missed You, You big bully.” They grinned at each other, secure in their feelings, in their life, in their plans. Then linked arms and went about the business of gathering luggage.

~~*~~

She had purposely parked the truck well out in the depths of the airport parking lot. He made mention of it as they lugged the heavy suitcases down the path in the hot summer sun. She squinted up at Him and smiled, knowing perfectly well why He had bid her to park so far away. “The better to beat your ass, my dear,” He had told her over the phone. They reached the truck and He heaved the bags into the back while she stood awkwardly out of the way. The first nibblings of fear were mixing with the sexual tension that coursed through her body. The plans for the ride home had been well laid out.. and she knew it was meant to push her limits of submission a little. But she was more than determined to do this as His welcome home gift.

He turned to her, wiping sweat from his brow and a look of tenderness so overwhelmingly strong flooded across His face. She looked like such the babe standing there in her little blue flowered dress, wringing her hands and wiggling from one foot to the other. She was nervous and it showed. She swallowed a dry lump in her throat and met His eyes. The next move was His and He knew it. He reached out and carressed her face….

She watched the look that came over His face as He gazed at her. And her heart sank almost to her knees. She knew that tender look, she knew it as the signal in a scene when He had reached the end of His sadism and was pulling her back to Him for love and reassurance. But she didn’t want that now. It had been too many days, too much talk and she longed harder than ever before for Him to be sadistic. To take her and posses her. To own her once again. As His hand touched her cheek she stabbed Him with her eyes, trying to convey those needs and wants through the air.

He saw the naked need in her eyes. The normally bright blue of her irises had darkened to a deep and heavy blue. The color of thunderstorms at midnight. It sent a shock to His soul… she was so open, He could read her so easily, and never tired of learning her, leading her, owning her. He shuttered the romance that He had felt building earlier, blinked it away. The need to protect her was so strong, so vital. She was His, He owned her. It was a heady realization at times, knocking Him back. When He pushed her, and pushed her hard, taking His own pleasure and satisfaction from her body and mind, leaving her sometimes as an empty and shattered vessel. But always, always He helped her to stand again, taught her to fly again and she always flew straight back to Him.

He spent several long moments gazing around the airport parking lot… looking for other people. For as much as He wanted to whip her cute little ass He had no desire to see a jail cell that day. Seeing no signs of life, He flipped her around then and pressed heavily at the back of her neck. She bent obediently at the waist and wrapped her arms around her knees. She thought about peering up at Him through her knees and trying for a laugh but it felt wrong somehow. The light hearted mood of the airport had vanished. He was all business, all Master. This was it. The beginning of the next step of the journey, maybe the most important step and the realization of that hit her at once and she slid forward a bit, letting go of her legs and grabbing the truck fender for support.

He saw her stumble as He was beginning to loosen the belt from His pants. He said nothing, seeming to understand that she needed a minute to collect herself. This wasn’t debatable anymore. She would submit. He knew it and she knew it, but knowing it and doing it were seperate issues and so He allowed her a moment. When her arms once again wrapped about her legs, her back stiffened and her knees tightened, He knew she was ready, He knew that her fate was sealed. And He, himself, almost stumbled. He took a deep breath.. touched one last loving carress to her, running His finger from the nape of her neck to her tailbone.

As He stepped behind her, the belt swung heavily from His hand. It was a hard belt, constructed of interlocking pieces of leather, the pieces weaved and woven to give the belt lots of flexibility, yet it was so very stiff. She’d been spanked with it before but always knew she could dance away from it. It brushed against the back of her bare legs as He reached for her skirt and she trembled. The smallest of moans slid from her mouth, smaller than a breath, when He lifted the skirt and tucked it into the waist band of her dress. Her ass now shown to the world, if they were looking, and He spent a second gazing at it. It was HIS ass. It was well marked, pocked with tiny scars of other scenes they had had together. A few faded bruises lingered from a task He had given her in His absence and the remnants of two large S’s, scarred into her rounded globes. He traced the S with His finger and she shivered, gooseflesh racing across her bare skin. He smiled, seeing that. He adored the fact that she responded so strongly to His touch.

He moved to the side of her, widening His legs for a good swinging stance. He glanced around the deserted parking lot one last time, His hand resting heavily on her back. She was trembling. In fear? Excitement? He didn’t know.. and truthfully, didnt care.

In fact, it was fear that made her tremble. When He moved to swinging position she had an almost overwhelming desire to stand up and bolt. She knew it was going to hurt and hurt bad.. but she also knew it was nothing compared to the promised things to come. Not only for that day, but for the rest of her life. As His hand ran down her ass one final time, He said to himself.. “I love this ass”. She hadn’t been meant to hear it, but it carried to her on the breeze. She heard the lust in His voice, and the love and she calmed herself. The message of love soothed her… and while she was still frightened, she was also determined.

The first stroke was every bit as bad as she thought it would be. A snake of fire attached itself to her ass cheek and she yelped. The first few strokes were always the worst and this time was no exception.After the 7th or 8th stroke, she moved a hand to the truck bumper again for leverage. She felt off balance as the force of the spanking pushed her forward. Master stopped… He roughly grabbed her hand and smacked it back around her legs.

“Do NOT break position again, cunt. If you feel like you are falling forward then lean back into the strokes. But .. do.. not.. move.. again.”

Every word of the last sentence was punctuated with a swing and a slap and she cried out a hurried “Yes Sir!” . She interlocked her fingers behind her knees in an attempt to lock them there and leaned backwards a bit. That only made it hurt more as she leaned into the stroke just as He was coming down, increasing the force it smacked into her tender white skin with. She began to cry in no time flat and as the strokes continued she let herself become panicky and frightened. He showed no signs of letting up or backing off, her ass was sending smoke signals it was so hot. It came to a head with a particularly hard stroke to the back of her thighs, a tender spot to be sure, and she broke with a loud sob. She fell to the ground, cradling her legs and crying. And even in her hysteria, she knew she had broken position but she was secure in knowing that He hadn’t meant to hurt her that bad so this was excusable and that He would scoop her up and apologize any minute now.

But He HAD meant to hurt her that bad, He needed to push her limits. He had to take her one last “out” away from her. The out of her pain limit versus the new limit He was deciding for her. Always before she could squirm away or cry and play on His sympathy. But no more. He reached for her.. but not to cradle or apologize. He snatched her long hair tightly in His fist and yanked her back up to standing. She yelped and glared at Him, anger momentarily making her forget her tears of pain. She met His eyes, her’s flashing with anger, His flashing back with pure sadistic battle. She opened her mouth to start a tirade of complaints to Him and He smartly smacked her right across the face.

It had the effect He desired as she stared at Him in open mouthed shock, she was at least too stunned to talk. He had slapped her in the face before but only in a scene, only as a sexual plaything. Never as discipline. His handprint rose red and ugly along the path of her cheek and the very sight of that sent Him into a tizzy. His cock, which had been twitching since leaving the airplane now jumped up high and at attention. Something about the sight of her there, hair messed and wild, ass peeking out of her dress and red as red can get, her face flushed and marked by Him. If He could have, He would have thrown her down and taken her right there.

But He stilled himself, as this lesson wasnt about sex..not yet. It was about obedience and submission. And she was failing.

In the span of just a few seconds He went through and rejected several ways to handle this. He had expected it, though not this early in the game and He wondered just how hard the rest of the day would become. He knew that if He showed her one tiny ounce of validation for her outburt, she would take it and run. Chip away at Him until He broke out of sheer exhaustion. She may be slave, but she was fiesty and strong hearted. He decided to simply punish her for it, to not let her see it as a step off the path. To simply.. un-validate it.

He shook her head by her hair and leaned in close to her face. He called her several mean and degrading names, berating her for not being able to hold position. He yanked her back around and bent her over. He waited to see what she would do.. for this would be the moment that she either accepted that there was no turning back.. or the battle would begin.

What she did was try to breathe again, shocked into silence by His cruelty. She was no stranger to her Master’s sadism but it never failed to blindside her each and every time. Pressed back into position by His heavy hand she had just a split second to choose. Submit or stand. She slowly wrapped her arms around her legs again, submitting.. accepting… becoming. Her apology was carried away on the wind and she didn’t know if He even heard it.

It didn’t matter though, if He heard it. He didn’t need it. He began to strap her welted bottom again, with more speed and vigor than before. Because backing off now would cement to her that she could gain ground by breaking, even if it was just a little. Plus, He was incredibly turned on and the more her ass jumped and reddened, the more He wanted to keep making it jump and redden. He sank into His own sense of self, swinging over and over, and finally stopping when His arm tired and cramped.

She held tight to her legs, she’d been sobbing for some time now and drool and tears and snot had puddled on the concrete between her feet. She breathed in heavy gasps, she felt sure He would have to drive her to the ER, there couldnt possibly be any skin left on her ass after that! When He reached to stroke it, she cried out, her knees buckling. But she caught herself and locked them tight again and only hissed as His hand made a rubbing exploration of her backside.

He was pleased with the results. Such a lovely shade of purple and red, welted and hot. Just exactly what He had promised her for the long car ride home. He rubbed her back then, just for a minute, and commanded her into the truck.

She straightened at the command, fighting a momentary wave of dizziness. As she reached around to touch her ass she was filled with pride and contentment. She had done it. She had submitted. No bondage, no cuffs. Her own will to be His slave became her bonds and she had made it through until HE was done. She dared to peek up at Him then and smiled into His face, climbing up and sitting very tenderly on the seat.

He laughed as she sat.. enjoying now the fruits of the fight. The smile on her face spoke volumes, her self-pride carried over to Him and He was pleased that He gave her that sense of accomplishment. And when He leaned over to buckle her seat belt, she impulsively kissed the tip of His nose and then laughed at her very unslave-like behavior. He tweaked a hard, ripe nipple and closed
her door, heading to His own side of the truck with a light step and a smiling face.

~~*~~

For the next hour or so, they drove in the usual way. He talked all about His trip and she listened attentively, asking questions and puncuating now and then with telling Him how much she had missed Him. She filled Him in on some minor goings on at home and it was all very normal. Except for the way she continuously shifted her butt, from one side to the other. Or the way she cringed and mumbled over the bumps in the road. He watched all this with amusement, and a growing desire to fuck that tender ass, along with a larger and heavier need to hurt her again. To make her cry and beg.

She was unaware of the direction His thoughts had strayed to. Not noticing the way His hand cupped her breast harder, how His breathing increased, His chattering about work diminished, His eyes narrowed, His voice became cold.. she didn’t notice. She was still too full of having “passed” this last test.. and had half convinced herself that it was over. They left the heavy traffic of the city behind, much to His relief. He turned to her.. and snapping His fingers, He pointed to the floorboards on her side of the truck.

She knew at once what He wanted, they had talked about this very thing. She hesitated just briefly, but the spanking was still fresh in her mind and very fresh on her backside and she wasn’t willing to risk earning another one just yet. She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid to the floor of the truck. She tucked herself into a ball… and stared at the floor… trying to accept that whenever possible this new rule forbid her from the comforts of the car seat.

He watched her. Glancing quickly back and forth from road to cunt. His cock had come alive as He watched the play of emotions across her face. He was really going to enjoy this, He thought to Himself. He pressed lightly down on His growing cock, to still it, and kept driving. Not yet. He wasn’t going to give in to fucking her just yet.

She shifted and moved and wiggled in the cramped space, and tried hard to keep from whining, but spoiled slavegirl got the best of her and she started in on Him.
“Master, it’s hot down here.”
“Take your dress off then, cunt.”

She didnt want to be naked in public so she dropped that complaint. (even though it was true).

“Master, this makes my butt hurt more.”
“Good, then I wont have to whip it so hard next time we stop.”

She spent several moments agonizing over THAT promise.

“Master, someone will see me down here!”
“So?”
“Sooo.. I’ll be embarrassed.”
“So?”
“Soooo, it’s humiliating to be sitting on the floor when there is a seat right there!”

He didn’t even answer that one, just looked at her and she rolled her eyes and turned to face the glove box. She got a little angry then and He grinned watching it. He had predicted this path of resistance and was prepared. Excited in fact. He asked her to turn back around to face Him and she only grunted but didn’t move. He told her to turn around and face Him and she mumbled a quiet “no sir, i dont want to.” He ordered her to turn around and face Him and she held her hands over her face and repeated louder “No Sir.”
That was all He needed. And He grinned… oh how He grinned. She would have been frightened had she the guts to look.

He pulled the truck immediately to the side of the road. He had decided that dealing with her and her issues was not something that could be put on the back burner until a more convenient time anymore. It needed to be halted in it’s tracks from the get go. And this was the get go. As soon as she felt the change in momentum from the slowing truck, she changed direction. Apologizing loudly, she pleaded her case to Him. He completely ignored her.

Stopping and getting out, He strode to her side of the truck and yanked open the door. She cringed in honest fright, sinking back into the truck. Though she wasn’t scared of Him, she also knew He was a sadist, and that she had angered Him. And angry sadists should be avoided. But in truth, He wasn’t angry though He pretended He was. He was enjoying every single second of this.

He snatched her by her hair (and this was one reason He forbid her to ever cut her hair, it made such a convenient handle, and she was so tenderheaded that it took little more than a tug to make her comply). He pulled her, gently yet firmly out of the truck. She followed her hair, of course, and stood next to Him, knowing better than to babble now, knowing that this was her own damn fault.

“You don’t want to look at Me, cunt?” He questioned.
She squirmed in His grasp and whispered “I do, Sir”.
“Well, I don’t want to look at some disobedient slut who can’t stand to look at her own Master. You have a long day ahead of you, little girl, if you don’t start accepting your place in things.”

She sniffled then and nodded and apologized.. and meant it.. but He was beyond hearing her. He pushed her head first towards the floorboards, helping her to get into position. He turned and moved, lifted and adjusted her until He was satisfied.

“Comfy, bitch?” He quipped.
“No Sir” she answered miserably and His laughter rang back to her.

She now was laying face down on the floorboard, her chest and elbows the only thing holding her up. Her knees and upper thighs were planted, wide spread on the seat, her feet tethered with bungee cords to the headrest on the back of the seat. He casually flipped her skirt up, exposing her ass again, gave it several hard swats to get the blood pumping, then closed her door and went back to the driver’s seat.

As He pulled back on the road she began to whine in earnest that someone would see her there.. and see her ass… and they would know the nastiness going on.. She babbled a long litany of reasons that He should let her up, even bringing up some tears. His response to each was a sharp, hard crack of His palm to her ass. The position had worked out better than He had imagined it would and He took full advantage of it. She finally stopped talking, though He didn’t stop smacking. Her already welted ass began to brighten again with pretty handprints, along with her cunt which poked up deliciously at Him.

When He thought she had become too comfortable with being down there, He began to tease her with stories of the truckers driving on either side of them. “They are leaning over and looking straight down your cunt, slut.They can see how wet you are, it’s dripping. Nasty. You are such a nasty girl.” “I bet they are jerking off, watching me slap your ass and cunt. You like that dont you? You like that strangers are wanking to you.” The rote of His words horrified her, and she couldn’t see out of any of the windows to check if the truckers really were there. She had heard several semi truck horn blasts so she thought it most likely true and it just killed her. She was such a private person, not even liking it when Master spent time gazing at her naked form. She begged and pleaded and He only laughed and smacked harder. It was then that she became fully aware of what the day was going to be like.

She straightened up a bit then, which took some of the fun out of it for Him, but not all. She was still fiesty and still fired off her mouth, which He loved and encouraged. He smacked her so often and so hard that His palm burned and itched and still, she sliced Him with her razor tongue and made Him laugh. He had noticed how wet she was a long time ago but He said nothing then. He wanted it to build and build.. until she had a small puddle of juice between her legs. He then made several comments about her state, admonishing her for getting so turned on by being so humiliated and spanked, all the while rubbing His sore palm in her juices. He coated His hand and fingers thoroughly and she bucked her hips back against Him, spreading her legs and trying to guide His hand to her clit. He humored her briefly, wiggling His finger rapidly over her clit. She moaned and pressed her hips towards Him and He promptly pinched her clit tightly between His fingernails and held on. She squealed and squirmed, pulling her slippery clit out of His grasp. She began to berate Him, still having not accepted that He could do what He wanted and He silenced her instantly by sticking one well-lubed finger up her ass.

Her words dried up, her mouth dried up, her mind dried up. Of all the things He had promised her, she feared this one the most. Everything anal had become her enemy and she was not willing to let Him or anyone else try to beat that. She held absolutely still and only said once, questioning, “Master”, in the tiniest of voices, and the raw need He heard in that almost caused Him to back down. He had to steel His resolve, and remind Himself that once she got over this hump, things would progress much nicer. It was for the greater good of them, as a Master/slave couple. She knew it as well as He did, she was just too weak to conquer it. But He was not. Not this time at least. And He responded to her plea by beginning to pump His finger in and out of her asshole. She sobbed, not in pain but in pure frustration and submission, in humiliation and embarrassment. In need of reassurance.

But He wasn’t reassuring her just yet. He liked that she felt so vulnerable. He liked that she was open and needy. He liked that she was raw. And so He added another finger and pumped faster, truly fucking her ass now with His two fingers. And still talking about the truck drivers watching her show. (And they were, in fact. Though He later told her that He was lying about the truckers, the truth is, they had quite the audience that day).

It was becoming quite unsafe to be driving and doing what He was doing to His naughty little slave girl, even though the traffic was light. He was getting more and more distracted with the sight of her upturned ass, so red and wet and willing. His cock strained at the confines of His jeans. He also knew that she had been stuck down on the floorboards for quite some time now, and it was hot, and she wasn’t exactly in a comfortable position. He wanted to break her, yes. But He didn’t want to *break* her. He praised her then, because since that first sob when He started to finger fuck her ass, she had been completely silent, utterly obedient, thoroughly humiliated… and her pussy was still pumping out the evidence of her arousal.

He spent several more minutes pumping hard with His hand, driving His fingers in deep and rough, pressing the envelope, pushing her limits. He had stopped the truck and so He leaned over and spoke to her, reminding her, telling her, who owned who and what was what, all the while pumping and poking and pushing the line. She cried silently.. in humiliation, in pain, but mostly in having been conquered. He lifted His fingers from her then, and held them up, examining them. This was the worst part for her and He made sure to do it slow and deliberate. He wanted it to be bad for her, He needed her to reach bottom so the only way to go was up.

His fingers were clean, though slick, and He had to make a snap decision on which way to take her. He could lie and completely degrade her and berate her for messing on her Master’s fingers, thoroughly humbling and embarrassing her. He knew that would break her for sure and it was an enticing path to take. Or He could reassure her that she hadn’t messed, and let her keep a smidgeon of dignity and save that particular humiliation for another day. He decided on the latter and patted her rump with His wet hand, said simply “Its all good baby” and she literally sagged in relief.

He hopped out of the truck and walked to her side, opening the door He untethered her feet and helped her to sit up. He spent a few moments encouraging circulation back into her right foot which was afflicted with the pins and needles of rushing blood. And He kissed her, reassurng her then that that part of the lesson was over and she had done well.

And she found that she could still stand to have Him look at her. He had finger fucked her ass, her most secret place, and it didn’t kill her. She spent several moments in the wonderment of that. Smaller and meaner things tried to sneak in.. thoughts of enemas and the like.. but she slammed the door on those thoughts and tried to concentrate on today.

Her breasts had fallen from the top of her dress as she hung damn near upside down in the truck and she reached instinctively to cover herself up, He held her hand, stilling her with a look. “Leave them, cunt.” He said and pinched her nipples hard between His fingers, making them rush to stand at attention. She looked around then, trying to see where they were. She didnt’ feel she was far from home, though her sense of direction was terrible and she had been studying the floorboards and not the scenery. All she could see was a small patch of trees across the field that they were parked at. She looked imploringly at Him, waiting silently while He fingered and pinched her… His … breasts. She was starting to feel it, the transfer of her self to Him. The changing of guards. It was comforting, and safe, and scary all at once. But she trusted Him more than any man she had ever known, she believed that while He would hurt her physically and He would break her will and possess her mind.. He would catch her each time she stumbled, and right her again. And if the path got too hard, He would pick her up and carry her.

He lowered the top half of her dress completely and loved and tortured her breasts with His mouth and hands. Licking, biting, sucking, tweaking and twisting. He soon had her moaning loudly and begging to cum, her hands running wherever they could reach on Him, stroking and kneading. They couldnt reach His crotch though and even as He ached in need He pulled away and denied her that for now. It wasn’t time. She wasn’t ready.

~~*~~

He led her across the open field with her breasts out and her skirt tucked up at the waist. She couldnt help but look everywhere, in search of anyone who might see her, but if there were watchers, they were quiet and well hidden. They moved a little way into the small woods and then He sat on a tree stump, snapped His fingers and pointed at the ground between His feet. She quickly knelt there, knowing that command well. She spread her legs wide, as she’d been taught and lifted her breasts with a small arching of her spine. He was unable to resist cupping the breasts, momentarily caught off guard at the beauty of her submission and what it meant that she entrusted that to Him. He thanked her then, spontaneously. And kissed her hard. She smiled from ear to ear, glad to hear it from Him. The words “good girl” slipped from His lips to her ears on a velvet string and she soared a little, as they sat there.

He looked away then, collecting Himself. His need for her still very evident and stronger than ever, bulging out of His pants. He thought if He didnt get release soon, He would explode in His pants and ruin it all.

“How many days were we apart, slave?” He asked.

She answered immediately, having counted them miserably as each day passed. “19 days, Master, if You count the day You left and today.”

“And do you count those two days, slave?”

She didn’t sense any right or wrong answer here and she had no idea of what was to come so she answered honestly. “I was deprived of having You for a full day on those two days, so Yes Sir. I would.”

He nodded. He caught her chin in His hand and turned it up to see her eyes. He needed to tell her, He needed to see her acceptance. “This next step is going to be hard, slave.”

She nodded against His hand, her eyes locked to His.

“It’ll be very painful for you. But you’ll reach a depth of yourself unlike ever before. It’ll be hard for me to push you that hard, harder than ever before, harder than anything today. It’ll be hard because I love you and I want to protect you. But I will do it because I love you and I want to possess you. The lessons won’t end today, your training will never be complete, but today, right now, this step is the most important one. This step you give your pain to me. You give your mind to me. You give your will to me. Do you submit to that, slave?”

She had begun to tremble as He talked… the words washing over her soul like a fresh spring rain. She watched the conflict on His face and she realized how much He truly did love her. She searched His eyes with her own and there, with her Master on a treestump in a small wooded area in the middle of an overgrown field, she submitted. For the final time, completely and wholly. She kissed His palm and pressed it to her cheek and forgave Him for the pain to come. And simply said “Yes Master.”

He pulled back from her then, both physically and mentally, needing time to get into His own mind frame. She ceased to exist as His friend and lover, He needed to objectify her. She was slave. She was cunt. She was nothing more. Ever again.

“Slave, we were apart for 19 days by your count. I want you to go and gather 19 different switches from these woods. I expect good choices, I won’t be satisfied with anything less than the best these woods have.Test them each on your inner thigh and when you have 19 acceptable welts, bring the switches to me.”

He turned from her then, not allowing or accepting any response from her. Her time for arguing and dawdling, bargaining and whining had ended. She sat for just a moment in stunned silence, fear sprang up and snagged hold of her heart. Not fear of being His, or being owned but fear of the pain. She was still just a child at heart. She took a deep cleansing breath and stood, turned around and began her search.

He resisted the urge to look back at her and moved about gathering His own necessary things. She never once strayed out of His earshot, He could hear her footsteps cracking over dead sticks and twigs. He heard the first test, the small whap that was object hitting flesh and her quiet grunt of pain.

She was by no means a gardener. She didn’t know a flower from a weed and the only two trees she could tell apart were christmas trees and every other tree. He had said 19 *different* switches (and the number staggered her, 19!), but she didnt know if He only meant 19 separate sticks or 19 different types. She sensed this wasn’t the time to haggle over the details with Him and so she just looked for sticks that looked different. She quickly found the meaning behind testing them herself as some that she picked up that she thought looked good enough, cracked and broke at the first swing. By the time she had 19 acceptable switches, she was hot, sweaty, irritated, her inner thighs burned, she was covered in bug bites and she was ready for a break. But when she finally found Him again, and saw Him sitting comfortably against the stump, nursing a cold drink she almost snapped.

The nerve of Him! Who did He think He was! She opened her mouth to let loose these feelings and then remembered that she held 19… 19! ..switches in her hand. And she snapped her mouth shut again. He smiled, satisfied with her reaction. She was learning quickly, at least for today, which made things smooth for them both. He rewarded her for her self-control by giving her the rest of the soda while He examined the welts lining her inner thighs.

He patted her head, pleased with the stripes on her legs and plucking the can from her hand, He pointed towards a fallen log. “Remove your dress and lay across that log with your ass facing this way.”

She hurried to comply, wanting now to get this over with. She folded her dress neatly and placed in on a pile of leaves and climbed up over the log. It was a big log, and she practically laid on it. “Scoot up more, slave. Get your feet off the ground.” He called from His spot. She scraped and scratched and grumbled her way over the log until her feet dangled and her hands dangled and she lay across it on her belly. He rose then and came to her, rope in hand and He quickly bound one ankle to one wrist, winding the rope under the log. He trussed her up tightly and she got more and more nervous with each knot.

He then informed her that she did not have permission to speak, except to answer a direct question and that had better be nothing more than “yes Master” or “no Master”.,, and He walked away. She heard Him retreating behind her but she couldnt see past the log. Silence followed the shuffle of His footsteps. She lay still and quiet for a time, waiting, thinking He maybe went to the truck for something. As time passed, however, she became increasingly nervous.. and worried.. about animals and raping psychotic killers and spiders and policemen and more things. She struggled in her bonds, testing the tightness and strength. She fought mightily with the rule to not speak, she needed to yell. She needed to hear someone. For the first time, she doubted the wisdom of her Master. She bucked against the log for a moment, on the edge of panic and hysteria and then her eyes lit on the pile of switches she had gathered. She was certain that He had her gather those switches so He could use them on her, not to abandon her in some woods. And she calmed herself, and knew this was a test of some sort, patience or something, and she lowered her cheek to the rough log and closed her eyes.. and willed herself to relax.

It wasn’t in fact a test, at least not on purpose. He *had* gone back to the truck and searching through His suitcase was at first unable to find it. He was about to give up, disappointed though as He wanted to do this now. It felt right. She felt ready. But one last search located it behind a pile of socks and He cheered triumphantly.

She heard Him coming long before He reached her. She was surprised that she had been almost asleep, as nervous as she was. She couldnt help but wiggle her ass as she heard Him approaching behind her. And she smiled that small satisfied smile that all women, slave or not, get when a man groans appreciatively at their body.

He dropped His stuff as He neared her, unable to take His eyes off the tantalyzing vision before Him. A naked woman, His woman, bent and bound over a log.. willing to take anything at all for His pleasure…. and then she wiggled her ass and His cock sprang up, demanding attention right now. It had been ignored long enough and the need overwhelmed Him. He freed himself of His clothes and stepped up behind her, her need clearly evident in her musky scent that travelled along the breeze, in the juices that forged a path between the welts on her thigh as it dripped.

She had been denied orgasm for several days now. Not an easy task for someone who is used to cumming whenever they wanted to. And whenever usually meant three or four times a day. This was day five of no release… day five of teasing over the computer and the phone.. she needed to come. It consumed her thoughts.

He moved in close to her, running the head of His cock from the top of the crack of her ass to the tip of the top of her pussy. He noticed that she didn’t cringe and tighten when His cockhead slid over her asshole and He smiled in silent victory. She had come far today. She moaned loudly and in need when He slid over her clit though and He teased her there for awhile, making her beg. He pulled back and plunged deeply into her, all in one thrust, burying himself to His pubic hair in her tight hot pussy. She groaned in pleasure mixed with pain as He marked His path into her once more. It had been so long.. 19 days.. since that cock had nestled into her pussy.. she was immediately riding the edge of orgasm, for it had been too long without…and He pumped behind her, fast and hard, just as she liked it. She cried out, only seconds before too late, begging for permission, for she knew orgasms were His now.. and He held her hips tightly .. rocking with her .. and ordered her to cum then… “Come for your Master, cunt” and she did, in one great wave of pleasure that started in her crotch and spread like liquid ecstasy to her toes and all the way up to her face. He stilled then, pressing deeply into her, his mouth open in sheer pleasure as her pussy clenched and shivered around His member. He could almost cum… just with that, He thought. And He almost did… but it wasnt time. He wasn’t ready.

He jerked away from her so fast that a small *pop* noise came from the force of His cock exiting her pussy. She grunted in displeasure, she wasn’t done cumming.. He KNEW that, she thought, she always had more than one.. and besides He hadn’t come yet.. and what was He doing?? She could see nothing, sense nothing. She wiggled her ass in the air again, smiling, enticing Him to come back and fuck her some more.

The first swing caught her off guard. She had been expecting cock and orgasm and what she got was the sharp bite of a switch across her ass. She stiffened against the log and cried out a curse word, too late remembering the rule of not speaking. “That one was for begging to cum when you were told not to speak.” He swung again, quickly. “And that one is for cursing.”

She bit hard on her lip.. and hugged the log, thinking it was about to get bad. He had regained control of Himself and now He walked to where she could see Him. He knelt down, to see her face and held a switch out for her to see.

“These switches represent the number of days that I suffered without you as my slave. I should do a lifetime but we’ll settle for 19.” He tried to smile at her but she was intent, too focused. The swatch of fire that those two strokes had lit on her already abused ass worried her.. but she thought that 19 strokes might not be too bad.

“We’ll do ten strokes with each switch, ten for each day that I was away from you. You don’t have to count them, but I do expect you to call out each day with each new switch. Are you following me so far, cunt?”

He looked at her, and watched the dawning on her face. Ten… for each.. times 19… and she knew He wouldn’t go easy on her and … fight or flight kicked in.. and she began to struggle.. and called out.. breaking rule number one again and He stood and moved behind her and began to switch her.. one swing for every sound that came out of mouth. It took awhile for her to make the connection.. and to stop screaming. She sagged against the log exhausted. And put her head down and cried.

He let her cry a minute, figuring she was crying the last of her own self away.. leaving nothing but Him and His desires. Then He knelt back down and repeated His earlier question. “Do you understand this so far?” She nodded miserably and mumbled “Yes Master.” then fell silent again.

He nodded, satisfied. “You’ll learn that my pain is your pain. That as my slave, you’ll suffer for me, through me, because of me. I’ll use you and your body for many many things, not the least of which will be causing you great pain because it gives me great pleasure to do so. Do you understand that, cunt?”

“Yes Master” came the reply, her voice holding steady and He admired her her strength. He knew He was going to hurt her, and He knew He was going to like it, was already twitching in anticiaption now, and He also knew that while she would scream and cry and beg, her pussy would drip and she would love Him all the more tomorrow.

“You have been forbidden from speaking, except to answer, as I’ve already told you and now also to say the days of the week as I finish with each switch. You are NOT allowed to curse, beg, call me names or anything of the like. You can scream and cry if you need to but no words. Your words are denied you. Do you understand, cunt?”

“Yes Master.”

“Then lets begin.”

He held the first switch in His hand.. and reminded her that He had left on a Monday… and let the first stroke fall onto her ass. He counted the ten swiftly and to Himself. Then tossed the switch in front of her face.

“Monday!” she cried out, anger in her voice as she glared at the switch.

He smiled… enjoying how well she was playing out.. how predictably she had reacted. It was natural for her to get angry.. and she was already upset at Him having been gone for so long though she would never say so. He had directed her anger at the switch.. making them become the days He had been gone, making her see it as HIS suffering rather than hers. He moved quickly to grab the next switch.

He kept the strokes close and fast and on top of each other only because He knew she hated that. She liked her spankings slow and sensual.. with lots of time to recover inbetween blows. He wanted the pain to build hard and fast, like wildfire. To blow her mind, to break her soul. He swung hard… and He swung random, not letting her catch on to a pattern to get used to.. He aimed for her legs and back only slightly less often than her ass.

And as each switch was tossed to the ground in front of her face, as each day was spit from her mouth, He felt Himself taking her… getting inside of her.. each switch seemed to symbolize a piece of her that she abandoned.

She still struggled.. she screamed.. she at one point cried out “please Master!” for which He gave her ten extra strokes. He had to be ruthless, He had to be cold. He had to be unforgiving. She deserved nothing less than the best Master He could be. And the best for her.. was hard.

Her skin split and bled in places… He had known it would and was prepared for later. But He didnt let that slow Him or lighten Him. He had a job to do. And He even told her, hollering over her cries to be heard… that she was bleeding.. that He was flaying her.. that maybe He would just whip her and whip her and whip her until she was skinned alive.. and the mindfuck made it hurt worse… as she imagined then that each stroke took a layer of her skin with it… and she screamed louder.. and struggled harder. He wanted her there, in the land of terror, the land of pain.. where nothing but nothing could get through the pain… He pushed and pushed and whipped and swung… and she went deeper and deeper into the pain… and through all the pain and the fear, she never spoke another word… she was able to keep who she was, what she was and what her rules were on top of the pain.

He could sense her sinking away from Him.. and He increased the force of the strokes. He was coming up on the end of the switches and He needed her to be deep inside for the next step. He began asking her questions then… “Are you devoted to me, slave?”.. “Yes Master!”.. “Will you do anything to please me?”… “Yes Master”… over and over he fired questions at her, making her confront head-on the level of her committment and submission.. “Will you submit to being branded for me, slave?” and the loud and final “Yes Master!” echoed through the trees.

Silence seemed to ring in her ears, as nothing but her own ragged breathing could be heard. She sobbed a little, in relief, thinking it must be over.. She sensed Him moving behind her and then PAIN.. a pain deeper and stronger and longer than anything she had ever felt.. anything she could ever have imagined.. anything she would ever feel again…. it filled her body and her mind… she couldnt even pinpoint the source at first.. it consumed her… and then spiralled down to her ass… to her right ass cheek.. up high.. where something very heavy was pressing very hard into her skin… and she screamed again just making the connection to what it was.. Branded. He had branded her. And she didnt know what with, or what mark, she knew nothing.. and crazily she wondered if she would like it.. and through it all she never spoke a word, held to her rule… and then it all slammed home to her.. who she was.. what she had and would become… She was Owned. She was Marked. His slave, Forever.

It was all too much and she sagged, still in sobbing hysteria across the log. She felt His hands running across her body and she only wanted relief and not touched. But she said nothing, it never occurred to her to say anything. She had no words of her own. His hand slipped down between her legs and she realized that He was horny and the thought sickened her for a moment. The last thing she was thinking of was sex.. she hurt.. and she ached.. and she was exhausted.

She felt His cock, rock hard, harder than she ever remembered it being, pressing against her and she stiffened, trying to pull into the log to get away and He stepped forward and impaled Himself on her… taking what was His, using what He owned.. and as He plowed into her battered and used body He screamed in triumph to the sky. He was man, He was Master, He was God.

Incredibly, she felt her loins responding to Him. The sheer raw power that He exuded over her was working it’s magic on her masochist side. Everything about her still stung and hurt and sent shock waves of pain to her brain, but they mingled with the pleasure.. and cycled back to her crotch where He was plunging into her as if He would never be allowed to fuck her again. She lifted her head and He cried out to her..to cum bitch.. cum hard.. cum now..and she did. She obeyed even then. She shuddered around His cock and He grabbed her hips in a death grip, digging so hard into her that she would bear the clear marks of His fingertips for days after. He rocked her hard and fast through her orgasm, and when He could take no more, He pulled out of her and almost vaulted the log to reach her face.

She had her mouth open, waiting,before He lifted her head. He shoved deep into her mouth, searching for the back of her throat and let the stream go. He had held off for several days Himself and He filled her now with His semen. Enough that she soon began to choke and sputter… and still He held His cock in tight to her throat… never done.. no mercy.

Later, after being untied from the log, He held her to Him. He had cleaned and dressed the wounds, the brand. She had done quite a number on her front side with all the thrashing she did against the rough bark of the log. She hurt everywhere.. every inch.. and she knew she would for days to come. She still hadn’t been given permission to speak and she didn’t want it. She had no words. She was content to listen, to be told, to be led.

He cradled her, pretending to not be surprised that she hadnt run screaming when He untied her..That she fell into His arms was a relief unlike any other. He knew there was a chance that it would be too big of a push.. too hard.. and would push her away. But that hadn’t happened, she was here, she was smiling, she was His.

She stirred in His arms and reached back to finger the bandage over the brand.. she had wanted to see. He opened one eye to watch her, tsk’ed her away from removing the bandage and reached behind Him. He held out the branding iron and she didn’t even need to see it up close to recognize the unmistable scroll of the S. His initial. She buried herself back into Him and mumbled to His shirt..almost too low for Him to hear.. “next time, I want it to say ‘property of’.”

He tightened His hold on her.. and knew things were going to be very interesting indeed.
The End

2 Responses to “Homecoming-Fiction”

  • belovedproperty

    *catches breath*

    Wow…kaya, this is simply, absolutely AMAZING. pet is just…wow…

    you have an amazing talent for writing kaya…

    WOW…

    pet is sorry she can’t come up with something better, but after three consecutive readings, she still can’t even think beyond WOW…

    • kaya

      Thank you so very much. Someday, I hope to be that girl doing exactly that. :-)

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