Her Master's Heart

by Lawrence Southwick

  As suddenly as the brutal caning had started, it stopped and Master's hands thrust between her legs.

  Unbelievably, Robin felt immediately stimulated and aroused. Strangely, it was stronger than before. She was shocked at the extremely forceful arousal that coursed through her battered body. This was both confusing and overwhelming for her.

  She'd have thought the whipping would’ve cut her arousal to the quick—she'd hated every agonizing second of it. Yet, here she was; only moments after the Hellish torture had ended, and she was right on the knife's edge.

  Robin was shuddering and hoping with every fiber of her being he'd fuck her.

  Master played with her pussy, spreading her lips apart, pulling, teasing, touching and running two fingers in and out of her. It felt so amazingly good...just not...quite...good enough for her to achieve a much-needed orgasm. She ached for the feel of his cock deep inside of her. She yearned to have him plunge himself into her to the hilt.

  Robin whimpered and tried to push back against his hand with no success since she was bound so tightly.

  His fingers suddenly disappeared from her, leaving her empty, and she heard him pick up the cane again. Oh, no! Oh, yes! She was confused by warring parts of her body and brain.

  The caning resumed, as did Robin's tears.

  Her nose began to run, dripping snot between her nose and mouth, as tears streamed down her face. That friggin’ cane hurt so much. She had no idea how long it would last, and she couldn't handle it.

  Layer upon layer of welts covered her backside, and then he moved the strikes to the crease between her leg and buttocks. This was known as the “sweet spot.” When the cane landed there, she shrieked loud and long. Her throat burned from screaming, and her ass burned from the cane.

  Once again, he stopped. This time, his hands went to her breasts as well as her pussy. Pinching and pulling her nipples until she thought she might shatter from the sensations, he then rammed three fingers into her greedy slit.

  Robin heard a hoarse voice desperately begging for more and was shocked to realize it was her own pleas for satisfaction.

  If only he'd let her climax. If she could only come, she wouldn't even care how much he beat her with that damned brutal cane of his.

  In the back of her mind, locked within the rational, analytical portion, she was curious about the apparent link between pleasure and pain. She briefly wondered about the ratios of the two, as well as the corresponding results.

  The animal part of her brain remained focused on one thing alone. It craved release. She needed it. This yearning eclipsed all other thought.

  Whatever it took, she'd do it. She simply had to have the relief only an orgasm would provide. Apparently, that meant more of the cane.

  Shit! Master wielded it with frighteningly accurate precision.

  Robin was sure she must've been bleeding, by now. She couldn't conceive of this degree of searing pain without blood pouring from her wounds. She hoped she might escape by slipping into subspace, to get away from this agony. Yet no, this too, was denied her.

  Suddenly, he stopped. Master leaned in towards her head and whispered into her ear.

  “Do you have something you want to say to me, Robin?”

  Frantically, Robin searched her brain for something, anything—any clue of what he might want her to say. Was he looking for an apology? If so, for what? What the Hell did I do wrong?

  Maybe he wanted my declaration of undying love? Surely, not like THIS.

  Wide-eyed, she wracked her brain furiously, but it was simply too fried. This session had been terribly grueling for her, both physically and emotionally. Her body continued to ache for release and her mind had practically lost its ability for coherent thought. She gave up. Without any clue of what he was getting at, she was getting nowhere but more frustrated.

  All she could think of was to obey Master. She desperately wanted to please him. However, what if what he truly wanted was to inflict pain, just pain? She didn't want THAT.

  Does obeying and pleasing Master mean so much to me, I'd allow myself to endure such torture? I hate this!

  Hmm, maybe it does mean that much to her. Does it? Making Master happy and being with him seemed paramount—the thought of it brought her joy. She truly took pleasure in his pleasure. However, this was extreme.

  If she didn't please him, could she lose him? That thought was not acceptable. He already meant so much to her.

  She'd TRY to give him what he wanted.

  “No, Master,” she whispered.

  In response, Master moved behind her again, and she almost lost her mind. Only the thought, 'like water over rocks,' saved her.

  The caning continued. The room echoed with her screams, and the bench became saturated with her tears.

  He finally stopped striking her and it wasn't his fingers he used to penetrate her, but his cock. She'd desperately hungered to have him inside of her for so long.

  Swimming through the sea of pain and desperate arousal, all Robin could say was, "Yes.” It was enough.

  He plowed into her, filling and stretching her. He beat her in an entirely different way—a way that she wanted and had ached for. The slap of his balls against her burning buttocks, and the feel of his cock plundering her was the final straw.

  When she came, her body almost vibrated off of the bench.

  She screamed again, this time in immense pleasure, not pain. However, at this point, it was difficult for her to tell the difference, as the intensity of the sensations merged the two. Her entire body clenched hard, going rigid. She convulsed as ecstasy mixed with agony went on and on and on. The feelings flooded her strongly in waves.

  As her cunt repeatedly gripped his cock like a fist, massaging it deep within her core during her orgasm, Master came as well. He grunted and groaned loudly as he spurted his cum deep within her. His seed ran out of her, spilling onto her legs.

  Robin felt a deep sense of satisfaction, a relief that her body needed. She triumphantly thought, I did it! I took everything he wanted to give me. It's over!

  Then Master picked up the cane once more.

  NO! It's too much! No more! STOP! Robin was done.

  “Red!” she screamed. “Red! Red! Red!”

  As the first syllable passed her lips, Master dropped the cane and began to unbuckle her restraints. Gently, he draped a soft blanket over her, carefully avoiding her aching backside.

  He gathered her in his arms, blanket and all. Then he gently carried her into his bedroom.

  Still, she cried, great guttural sobs of pain, of catharsis. She couldn't stop.

  Yet, she still wrapped her arms around his neck and put her face to his chest as she wept. Robin sought comfort from the very man who'd just brutally beaten her, showing her no mercy.

  Master didn't object. He held her gingerly, carefully rocking her until her weeping subsided to snuffling and a continuous huh-huh-huh she was unable to stop.

  Master stretched her out on the bed, on her side, facing him. He was careful to keep her sore spots from making contact with anything that might cause her further discomfort. He gathered her into his arms, stroked her hair and told her repeatedly, what a good girl she was. He said how proud of her he was. He made her drink an entire bottle of fresh, cold water and fed her a delicious dark chocolate bar. He continued to pet her and whisper praises in her ear.

  After what felt like an eternity, Robin fell asleep.

  ~~~

  ROBERT

  Long after her sweet, lovely eyes had closed and she lay there facing him with her small hand resting on his chest, Robert watched his little bird. She'd entrusted herself to him, and he'd done his best to edge the line on breaking that trust, all in the hopes of teaching her a lesson she might never forget.

  Too often, a new sub will allow themselves to be taken too far by their Dom. They might endure being harmed, emotionally traumatized or broken because of the dangerous misbelief they'd please their Dom by not using their safe word when they needed
to do so.

  A new sub might believe ‘safewording’ could somehow harm or destroy their new D/s relationship, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

  Robert's extremely unpleasant task tonight had been designed to ingrain in Robin the fact that ultimately, she held the power. She could and should use that power when she needed to. This lesson was extremely important.

  Not using a safe word when it's needed can cause the precise outcome the sub had tried to avoid. Not safewording appropriately can damage a D/s relationship irreparably, because it can ultimately destroy the trust of both the Dom and the sub.

  Trust is crucial. It's a fundamental element—what D/s relationships are built upon.

  Total trust between the Dom and sub is needed for their relationship to work. The sub must understand when a safe word is used, the Dom will stop, no matter what. It's also equally important for the Dom to rely on the knowledge his sub will put their own personal safety above what the Dom wants as well as any potential outcome of their relationship.

  Appropriate use of a safe word is the only way the D/s dynamic can work.

  Robert deeply hoped Robin would recognize his intent when she awoke, rather than to focus solely on the pain he'd inflicted upon her. He silently, gingerly and slowly pulled the blanket away to examine her; she was cleanly marked, welted but not bloodied.

  He didn't want to risk waking her. She needed rest more than anything, right now. He'd apply a soothing, healing cream on the area in the morning and give it to her so she could continue to use it as she needed. Icing the area could also prove helpful during the first 48 hours. He'd make sure she got the care she needed. He knew she'd be feeling the physical aftermath of their session for days to come. That thought disturbed him.

  As Robert watched her sleep, his mind warred with itself. One part of him focused on the importance of training her correctly, even ruthlessly, as he'd done many times before her with other new subs.

  This technique, although unpleasant for both the sub in training as well as for Robert, had always been successful. The results were quality-trained subs.

  Since Robert was not sadistic, he only enjoyed inflicting pain for pleasure. Therefore, he'd never relished this part of the submissive training process. It was something he'd endured alongside of the sub. However, the 'unpleasantness' of this session had taken on a new meaning and intensity, when he used it with Robin.

  He'd HATED it.

  Robert had urges that were new to him and nearly overwhelming. He had a strong need to wrap Robin's body in his arms forever. He wanted to pleasure, comfort and protect her. He wanted to keep her from the world. He wanted to have her all to himself.

  Some of the training techniques, he'd always used successfully with new subs, like tonight's session, seemed too cruel and brutal for such a sensitive and gentle soul. He was so conflicted because he believed Robin deserved the best training possible to reach her goals. Yet, he felt in his heart, she did not deserve this cruelty.

  She deserved love, care, protection and pleasures beyond words. He wanted to be the one to give those things to her.

  He didn't want to hurt her.

  He didn't want to lose her. She meant the world to him.

  It was a long, sleepless night.

  ~~~

  OTHER

  It was going to be a long, sleepless night…again!

  I just need the dumb bitch to be alone in her house long enough so I can get the job done! Why is this so fucking difficult!?

  He’d been following her for weeks, and it was always the same damn thing! She went to work, and she went to the asshole’s house, rarely even stopping at her own home.

  When she actually did go into her apartment, it was as if she was in a relay race. She'd be so damned quick about it, there wasn't enough time to act without risking disaster.

  Most of the time, she slept over at his house. When she didn’t stay there, she'd visit friends or family, yapping for hours on end. She'd usually end up sleeping THERE, instead of going back home.

  Why the Hell does this bitch pay for an apartment if she never stays there? She's just using the place as a closet, for storage!

  The bitch was never alone in one place long enough for him to act. He hadn’t had an opportunity in all of the seemingly endless hours, days and weeks he'd been watching her.

  A couple of times, he’d been close. He'd been ready with his tools, but the police patrolled her neighborhood regularly. When they'd pass his van, he knew he'd missed his opportunity. He couldn’t make a move that night since it would be too dangerous for him. There was too big a risk of him getting caught if she vanished the same time his van was spotted in the vicinity.

  So, he'd back off, defeated by his forced state of inaction, yet again. He was grinding his teeth to nubs in frustration.

  He had to make his move.

  Soon.

  Chapter 21.

  ROBIN

  Robin was home alone the afternoon after the dreaded caning. She felt so confused. It was impossible for her to wrap her head around her own feelings and desires, let alone trying to guess, grasp and understand those of Master.

  As soon as she'd arrived at his house the night before, she'd noticed he'd seemed different. He wasn't his usual warm, supportive and positive self. His demeanor and his actions seemed so odd for him—she’d no idea what he was thinking or feeling.

  Even stranger, was the fact she had no more insight into her own thoughts and feelings, than she did Master's. Robin felt as though she could never get a clear, objective picture of things. She was too close to the situation.

  What she wanted and needed was someone to talk to about everything. She wanted to find an objective, and therefore disinterested, third party. It needed to be someone familiar with the D/s dynamic who could understand her situation and share his or her insights.

  Sure, that should be no problem. Maybe I could look in the phone book…under what category? Confused Submissives? Kink Counseling?

  Hmm, maybe I could take out an ad on Craigslist?

  Her life had become so damned complicated and confusing. Unfortunately, when dealing with sexuality, especially concerning anything that could be considered kinky, there's so much secrecy, stigma and judgment. Her life had certainly become way more interesting and exciting, with this new chapter she'd embarked on. However, it also became much more intense, complicated and confusing. It's all so new and scary—uncharted territory.

  Without any other known options, Robin ended up going back to her original D/s sources. She'd initially been active and had contact with a few people on FetLife. One of the people who'd responded to her inquiries was Mistress Gina, a professional Domme. She'd been open and welcoming, so Robin emailed her. Gina called her back almost immediately.

  “We can meet this afternoon, if you'd like. I have a little over an hour available, between appointments.” Upon Robin's agreement, Gina gave her directions to her home.

  At three o'clock, Robin rang the doorbell of a typical looking, two-story suburban house. It was located in a nice section of Buffalo, with neighbors close by. With what Robin knew took place within that house; Robin smiled to herself and thought, 'She must have good noise insulation or extremely tolerant and open-minded neighbors.'

  The door opened to reveal a conservative-looking shorter woman, about Robin's age, who was about forty pounds lighter than she was. Gina's hair was black, sprinkled with silver. She wore a grey pantsuit. To the outside world, she looked as if she should be dusting flour off her hands.

  She smiled sweetly. “Hello. Come in.”

  Robin stepped into the entryway. She saw an umbrella stand, crowded with canes. Past that, was a small table with a mirror hanging on the wall above it. A doorway and a set of stairs going down loomed beyond.

  She heard the front door closed solidly behind her.

  Mistress Gina smiled at her and lost whatever 'typical homemaker' vibe Robin had imagined.

  “Strip,” she said. Robin start
ed from the unexpected demand.

  “Oh, um…I'm sorry for any misunderstanding. I-I'm not here for a session...I just want some advice.”

  Mistress Gina regarded her steadily, without compromise.

  “We do this my way, or not at all,” she said evenly.

  Robin considered. Well, it's nothing I haven't done before, after all.

  She figured the restrictions on Mistress Gina would probably need to be much greater than they were on Master Robert. Gina was a professional, after all, and so she must need to avoid even the appearance of anything...sticky.

  Hmm, that probably wasn't the best choice of words when talking about a Domme—or anything having to do with sex. I'd imagine I should avoid 'slippery' as well. She smiled to herself at her silly, anxious humor. God, I can be so lame, sometimes.

  Robin undressed. She folded her clothes and placed them on the table where Mistress Gina indicated, then followed her silently down the stairs.

  The basement had been converted into a dungeon space. All the accoutrements of the Club were there, as well as some Robin had never seen before. Mistress Gina led her across the floor to a giant cage designed so its occupant couldn't sit, only stand. She locked Robin in.

  Then Mistress Gina drew up a chair, sat down next to the cage and smiled at her again.

  “So, what's on your mind?”

  Robin tried to find the words to express her thoughts and feelings, but the surroundings and circumstances were inhibiting her. How could she talk to this woman about such intimate and emotional subjects, through the bars of a cage?

  Mistress Gina seemed to read and understand her. She provided some help to get the ball rolling.

  “Let's see,” she said, “You wrote in your email, that you're in a new relationship with a Dom, and you're having trouble reconciling your feelings. Is that about right?”

  Robin nodded then whispered, “Yes.”

  Mistress Gina nodded. This was probably old hat for her.