by Sky Corgan
“Yes, Sir.” I nodded, watching as he took the position, then imitating him accordingly.
We went through the rest of the positions one by one, with him demonstrating and me mimicking. Most of them were standard. Kneel, Lay Down, Face Down, Hands and Knees. Others were a bit invasive, like Display, Inspection, and Examination. There were a few that sounded more like commands you gave a dog than actual positions, like Heel, Fetch, and Follow. And then there were punishment positions, which varied depending on how he planned to punish me. I hoped I would remember them all.
When we had gone through the list, Damien sat back down, looking up at me with a smug sense of satisfaction. “Take off your clothes,” he told me, and I obeyed. “From now on, when I tell you to take off your clothes, I want you to fold them and set them neatly on the chest of drawers. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” I gulped, thinking about how I hadn't learned how to fold dress clothes yet. Of course, as soon as I placed them on the chest of drawers, Damien noticed right away.
He scowled at my clumsily folded blouse. “Do you remember what I told you?”
“Yes, Sir. I was supposed to have looked up a video on how to properly fold my clothes.”
“And you didn't do it?” his voice was dark and disapproving.
“No, Sir. I forgot.”
“Corner.”
It was the first punishment position command he gave me, and I followed it to the best of my ability, walking over to the corner to press my nose against it. I put my hands behind my back, crossing my wrists and spreading my legs shoulder-width apart. A sigh left my lips, thinking about how childish I felt. The last time I stood in a corner, I was ten years old and was being punished for talking back to my mother.
“You will hold yourself in that position for ten minutes, after which time you may come back over and present yourself for Examination,” he said.
My cheeks blushed at the thought. Examination was the most invasive of all positions and consisted of several different verbal commands. The thought of laying submissively while Damien gave my body a very thorough look-over made butterflies flutter in my stomach.
I had more time to think about it than necessary. You never realize how miserable it is to stand in a corner for ten minutes until you've actually had to do it as an adult. It made a surprisingly effective punishment. I would definitely take strides to be more obedient, lest I be forced to suffer with silent boredom again.
When ten minutes was up, Damien called me back over to stand in front of him. I assumed the Stand position, keeping my eyes to the floor.
“Do you remember what you're supposed to do now?” he asked.
“Assume the first Examination position.”
“No.”
“I have just punished you. What are you supposed to do whenever I punish you?”
My mind was completely blank. Was this a trick question?
“I'm sorry for upsetting you, Sir.”
“Wrong answer. Corner.”
Grudgingly, I stalked back over to the corner, pressing my nose into it with an audible groan of discontent.
“Less attitude, or I'll double your time,” Damien said without a hint of remorse.
Punishment definitely sucked.
When another ten minutes passed, I was allowed to return in front of Damien. His face was set into what felt like a permanent scowl, and while I looked at his knee in my peripheral vision, my only bratty thought was of how much I'd like to bite it. Maybe I should tell him to go stand in a corner for twenty minutes and see how much he liked it.
“Since you don't remember what you're supposed to do now, I will tell you,” he said.
“Please do, Sir,” I replied, trying to keep the annoyance from my voice. Showing anymore attitude could easily earn me another ten minutes in the corner.
“Whenever your Dominant punishes you, you must thank him for the punishment. Then you must recite why you were punished so you don't forget. Rule number eleven.”
“Master would request I lie to him?”
“Back in the corner. We can do this all night, you know.”
For a moment, I thought of screaming at him. “What did I do this time?”
“You called me Master instead of Sir. Calling me Master is a privilege you haven't earned yet. Back in the corner.”
“What if I promise never to do it again?” I looked up at him pleadingly.
“Back in the corner.” He pointed to it. “If I have to tell you again, you'll earn a far worse punishment.”
“Fine,” I nearly spat at him, stomping over to the corner.
“Come back here,” he told me, his voice as calm and cool as ever.
I turned on him, agitated. “Do you want me in the corner or not?”
“Punishment Knees.”
Oh crap. I finally pissed him off, I realized. Now I would get to taste what one of his real punishments felt like.
While I was still upset, curiosity made me assume the position. I knelt in front of him, naked on the carpet, with my head down and my hands near my face. My ass was up in the air like a beacon, just asking for a nice delicious spanking. Oh, please be a spanking. Please, I silently begged, my anger melting away into perverted thoughts.
As if Damien was reading my mind, he said, “I bet you're hoping I'll spank you.” When I didn't respond, he asked, “Well, are you?”
“Yes, Sir,” I admitted, feeling my body heating up.
“Not all spankings are pleasurable.” The darkness in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.
I couldn't imagine a spanking not being pleasurable. If he thought that he could turn a spanking into a punishment, the joke was on him.
“I want you to thank me after every strike, do you understand?” he said.
“Yes, Sir.” My clit tingled from the order.
Perhaps I would disobey more often. What he was teaching me was the opposite of what he had hoped. If spankings were to be my punishment, then I would be bad all the time. A lecherous grin crossed my lips as I heard him move behind me, and it took everything in me not to wiggle my butt.
My smile melted when his hand came down with the full weight of his body. Searing agony raged through my backside, pushing past the point of pleasure and tumbling into unexpected pain. I choked on my own breath, gasping in disbelief at the force of the blow.
“Do you have something to say to me?” Damien asked.
“Thank you, Sir,” I was barely able to stutter out before another crack of torment landed across my backside. The skin already felt swollen and burning, like the sting of a thousand angry fire ants. “Thank you, Sir,” I echoed the words with tears in my eyes. By the third slap, I didn't think my body could take anymore. My safety word was on my lips, threatening to spill out, but instead, I said, “Thank you, Sir.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling, waiting for the next blow. Part of me didn't think I could handle it, but I knew I had to. When Damien's hand touched my ass again, it wasn't to spank me, but to rub against the welt. My pulse moved to my ass, beating against his hand. It felt like I might melt his skin right off from the heat.
“Why were you punished?” he asked, running his fingers delicately over the welts.
“Because I showed you attitude, Sir,” I said, suppressing the urge to whimper and cry.
“That hurt me more than it hurt you, and I never want to have to do it again. Next time, just stand in the damn corner.” He climbed to his feet and sat back in the chair. I hadn't even realized he had been kneeling beside me the whole time. “Examination,” he ordered, and I found myself crawling onto the bed and assuming the position with my legs spread wide and my hands above my head.
Even the feel of the comforter against my swollen backside sent pain shooting through me. Never again would I purposely piss off Damien Reed.
Once I was in position, Damien came to stand over me, assessing me with emotionless eyes. He bent slightly to grab my breasts and lift them up, examining underneath them. The
whole thing made me feel incredibly uncomfortable, but I laid there anyway, suppressing my sniffles.
Even though I knew I deserved the punishment, it still upset me. My mind was a tangle of negative emotions. If he loved me then how could he hurt me like that? It's not that he doesn't love me. He's just trying to discipline me. He told me what would happen if I continued to disobey. I should have listened. Stupid, stupid Chey. Now he's mad at me. I don't want him to be mad at me. I was a good girl. I took my punishment and didn't complain.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, watching as tears cascaded down my face.
“Because you hurt me,” I whimpered.
“I gave you more than enough chances to listen.”
“I know. I just didn't expect . . .”
“That a spanking could hurt?” he paused. “Despite what you probably think, I didn't enjoy doing that anymore than you enjoyed receiving it. I don't get off to the thought of hurting you. In fact, I use physical force as the last effective measure of punishment. Obviously, you were going to continue to give me attitude if I kept sending you to the corner. It wasn't working, so I needed to modify my approach. Now that you know what it feels like for me to have to modify my approach, you'll be more apt to listen to me next time I issue you a punishment. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I squeaked.
“Don't just tell me 'Yes, Sir' blindly. I want to know you actually understand my reasoning. So I'm going to ask you again, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied, more clearly this time.
“Good. Now dry your eyes and assume the Examination Front position.”
After wiping my eyes, I rolled over onto my stomach, keeping everything else about the position the same. My body tensed as Damien's hand rubbed over my ass again. Even though it had been several minutes since the intense spanking, I could still feel pain through my backside. It would probably bruise.
“Examination Cunt,” he told me, and I rolled back around, bringing my knees up to my chest and spreading them slightly to expose my feminine folds to him.
Damien crawled up onto the bed, and for a moment, I thought he meant to fuck me. Instead, he spread my pussy lips. For the first time ever, I wasn't sopping wet for him. In fact, my mind was too emotionally wrecked to be thinking much about sex. All I could think about, aside from the spanking, was the discomfort from being so vulnerable. Damien was looking inside of me, quite literally examining me in a very non-sexual way, kind of like how a gynecologist does.
It wasn't until he pressed two fingers inside of me that my body finally responded, relaxing into its more wanton state. Need pulsed through my clit, and I grew angry at myself for desiring him so much after what he had just done. I should be pissed off at him, not craving him between my legs. Stupid body.
The moment didn't last. Soon, Damien was withdrawing and telling me to assume the final position, which was Examination Anal. This position was reminiscent of the Punishment Knees position. The only difference was I had to spread my ass cheeks for him with my hands. My face flushed pink as I did this. It was the most embarrassing and degrading position of all, letting him look at my asshole. I thought about contesting it, as one of my hard limits, but what grounds did I have to say that under. He wasn't hurting me. Hell, he wasn't even touching me. I was just uncomfortable.
Throughout the examination process, I found myself holding in my breath and emotions. Tonight was a night I would never forget—the night I truly felt like we had taken our relationship to a different level—a very dark level I wasn't sure I liked. Being vulnerable was one thing, but this felt like something else entirely—a complete mind fuck.
When the examination was over, Damien gave me the Lay Down command. As quickly as possible, I laid on my back, trying to remember the placement for my arms. I wavered for a moment in uncertainty, but Damien had crawled off the bed to return to the chest of drawers, and by the time he turned around, I had remembered and corrected myself. He returned to me with two small objects, holding them up in his hands. One looked like a blue eye shadow compact. The other was a small tube, probably containing some kind of lube.
“Right hand or left hand?” he asked.
I gave him a quizzical look, worried it was a trick. “What are they?”
“That's not what I asked you. Right hand or left hand?”
Fearing further punishment, I decided to shut up and choose. The blue compact was interesting looking, but the tube was definitely more familiar.
“Left hand,” I said finally, indicating the tube.
Damien put the compact back in the chest of drawers before he returned to me. “Assume the Examination Cunt position,” he commanded.
With a nervous sigh, I brought my knees back up to my chest, parting my legs slightly. I watched Damien as he twisted the cap off the tube and squeezed a dab of clear gel onto his finger. Then he rubbed the gel directly on my clit.
It didn't feel like anything special at first. He gave my nub a good dousing, igniting my pleasure core with the touch of his finger. Then he put some more gel on his finger and rubbed my pussy lips with it. By the time he was done, I began feeling the effects of the lube on my pleasure button. It was heating up quickly, causing a tingling sensation. When Damien put the cap back on the tube and leaned between my legs to blow on my folds, I gasped from the strange sensation that ran through me. Within seconds, my clit was throbbing, my labia fully engorged with seething desire.
“What was that?” I asked.
“It's called WOW gel.” He grinned.
Wow was right. It felt amazing, both hot and cold at the same time, tingling and pleasurable. I could feel my nerve endings coming to life and my pussy beginning to moisten.
“It's clitoral arousing gel,” he explained. “How does it feel?”
“Good. I like it.”
“Good. Shall I take things up a notch?”
I was scared what that meant, but I nodded anyway.
Damien licked two of his fingers and pressed them into my exposed cunt. He slid them inside gently at first, scissoring and exploring. It felt exquisite coupled with the throbbing of my clit. When his fingers were fully inside, he arched them and began thrusting slowly. I groaned shamelessly, feeling like I might drool on myself from pleasure. Already, his fingers were squelching inside of me, proof of my arousal.
He pulled out, opened the tube again, and gave my clit another rubdown with the gel. This time, he pressed his index finger hard over my nub. Fire shot through me, consuming me with lust and desire. It felt like my pussy was absolutely drooling.
“Damien, I'm going to,” I warned.
He buried his face between my legs, flicking his tongue across my clit. If he had wanted me to stop, this wasn't a good way to show it. Almost the second he sucked my sensitive bits up into his mouth, I came, contracting and squirming and panting. Damien showed no signs of letting up, devouring my cunt until no gel or wetness remained. When he did finally come up for air, all I could think about was how much I wanted his cock inside of me.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
“I want to, but you've been bad,” he said.
“You taught me a lesson. I won't be bad again.”
For a moment, I was hopeful, but then he crawled off of the bed and sat back down in the chair, filling me with disappointment. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to move or not, so I just laid there, staring at him, praying he would return.
“I like you like that,” he told me, though his expression was blank.
“I want you inside of me. I think I might stay like this until you come stick it in me.”
“You'll be staying like that all night then.” He smirked.
“If it's what you want.”
“You become so compliant when you want to be fucked.”
“I can't help it. I want to be fucked.” I grinned back at him.
“I'm glad you're not upset anymore.”
Had I ever been upset? It seemed like a distant dream now. The
welts on my ass had finally cooled. Only the hand impression lingered behind.
“You're not allowed to pleasure yourself anymore,” he said, turning my grin into a frown. “And you can relax now.”
I lowered my legs to the bed and rolled over onto my side, looking at him. “Why not? What did I do to earn punishment this time?”
“It's not a punishment. I want all of your orgasms to belong to me. Every time you come, I want it to be because I allowed it. That would give me great pleasure.”
My clit throbbed from his words, but my brain knew my body shouldn't be happy about it. Masturbating was an integral part of my life. I did it at least once a day. The thought of being denied made me discontent.
“I don't like that rule,” I told him.
“Why not?”
“Do you have any idea how much I masturbate?”
“I do. You put it on the questionnaire, remember?”
“Oh yeah. I forgot about that,” I huffed. “Well, if you're going to do that to me, then I need to see you more.”
“Neither one of our schedules will allow that.”
“Then we need to compromise.”
“Fine. I won't masturbate either.”
It wasn't the kind of compromise I had expected, but the thought was very arousing. I tried to imagine a pent-up sexually frustrated Damien Reed. He would probably be absolutely ravaging in the sack. My thighs wanted to rub together from the thought.
“Wouldn't that be difficult for you too?” I asked.
“It's all about self-control, Cheyenne. I have a lot of it. You, on the other hand, don't.”
How rude? I sat up and crossed my arms over my chest.
“If you're not going to fuck me, then I'd like to get dressed,” I told him grumpily.
“Fine.”
As I began to put on my clothes, he continued, “I won't be able to see you tomorrow. I have a teachers dinner to attend.”