The Accidental Sub

by Crane, G. Stuart

  When I left she was naked except for the belt and in her masters arms and yielding to him and being kissed from belly to forehead. She was a slave in orgasm simply from being held and kissed. They were lost in each other and they did not notice me as I let myself out. I hoped that whatever problems they were having would work out. I quietly closed the door on a Master and slave.

  Other than checking in with Zin to see whether she would now accept L.A. as a student and to give L.A. her punishment for not obeying instantly the other night, the weekend was clear. Even my laundry was done. With the exception of grocery shopping, I had nothing really to do.

  I would have to initiate the call to Zin as I knew that she would not. She would not presume to call me except at the command of her Master. She had also left it up to me to keep track of the time that had passed. It had been a full month since L.A. had become my slave.

  At about nine o'clock, I called L.A. to check on her, and her first question whether I had returned Susan! She began to laugh when I told her that I'd left Susan in the chastity belt, and then she got serious and asked about the plans for the weekend.

  When I admitted that I had none because of the on-call weekend, she made a few suggestions. She was at loose ends also. I told her to come over about noon and plan on spending the night.

  I reminded her about one thing. “You are due a punishment, my slave, for not obeying instantly the other night. Do you remember?”

  I only heard a faint, "Yes, Master, I remember."

  "Do you remember what today is?" I asked. I heard silence over the line as she pondered this question. I could tell that the question had puzzled her. After several seconds, she said, "No, Master, I don't.”

  "Today you have been my slave for one month.” I wasn't sure that she made the connection to my thoughts about Zin's class, so I added, “You may be in class dancing tonight, so bring an exercise outfit and your collar."

  “Yes, Master,” She responded then I heard a long pause from the other end of the line. "Master, may I beg a favor?" she asked.

  "Of course, L.A.” I responded.

  "Would you do something similar to that first time? Send me an e-mail with detailed instructions. I can't explain it, but I look at that note from time to time. When I want to relive that first moment when I realized that I'm a submissive and slave, it just makes me feel so owned and possessed and warm."

  "Check your mail in an hour and be prepared to follow the instructions exactly," I said then hung up.

  Next I called Lord Gerwald's house and spoke to him. I would not talk to Zin without his knowledge. Gerwald reiterated that he was very pleased with the security that I had helped with and mentioned some additional measures he wanted me to investigate for him. I told him I'd be happy to help out then asked to speak to Zin.

  Zin came on the phone. “Good morning, Master. How may Zin help you?”

  I reminded Zin of the reason for the call.

  “Yes,” she said, “the month is up and was I expecting your call. I have thought about this. I watched her at the party last weekend, and she seems much more comfortable with everything Sir. I did not see anything that would stop me from accepting her now. Do you still want to invest the time and money into her training?” she asked.

  “Yes Zin I do, I will see her dance for me yet!” I replied.

  “Yes Sir,” Zin replied. “Deliver her to the studio tonight at five and I will get her started. Do not expect anything special for a few weeks. I have a lot to teach her and this takes time. The basic hand movements alone take several weeks for a student to get correct. But I will accept her as a student.”

  “What should I have her bring or wear to the class tonight? Anything special she should bring that I don't know about?” I asked.

  Then she got a little mysterious on me. "As I have clothing and switch rights over the slave that is for me to decide, isn't it, Sir? But you must accompany her to the class and give me this permission in front of her." Zin hung up without another word and left me with my mouth hanging open.

  After I had recovered, I fired up the computer and composed the e-mail to L.A.. It took several drafts to get the tone I wanted. I had been disappointed but not mad at her earlier disobedience, and I wanted this discipline to be remembered.

  Subject: Today's Visit

  L.A.,

  You will report to my house today at noon, no tolerance on the time. Pack your overnight bag as usual. I expect perfection in your personal grooming and you will be subjected to the silk test upon arrival. Makeup and hair are to be perfect. Butt plug yourself and wear and insert the randomly controlled vibrator from the instant you receive this and turn it on. You are forbidden orgasm until I grant you that permission.

  Clothing should consist of a loose dress that has shoulder straps and can be untied from the shoulders. Wear a bra and panties set that I purchased for you. Wear sandals and your collar. You are to wear your collar from the time you leave your place. Wear a scarf to hide the collar. Park in the back as usual. Garage door will be open. You will find cuffs on the table. Cuff yourself with your hands in front. You will find a selection of whips and floggers on the table. Choose one for your punishment today. Place your choice by the Circle of Discipline. Kneel in the circle and wait.

  M.G.

  After I sent the note, I laid out the cuffs in plain view with several of the items from the toy bag, including some of the more severe implements in my collection. I dropped the winch hook to about head height and added a lock and chain to it. The chain was heavy and recently purchased. I put the lock hasp through a link in the chain about two feet from the end then locked it to the winch. This gave me two lengths of chain descending from the winch. One was almost touching the floor and another hung to about collar height.

  Up to this point my L.A. had been very obedient. I had only had to punish her once; anything else we had done had been part of the play, to reinforce her feeling of submission or strictly for sensation. She had enjoyed most of it. The slapper I had used on lightly on her body had excited her. I personally only use whipping for punishment and then I am very careful about it, warming the body of my victim up carefully and sensitizing the body to so the punishment may be fully felt.

  I decided to dress for the event a little differently. I dressed head to toe in black and slipped a few things that I thought I might need into the pockets. This was to give the impression of the executioner and to make it clear that I had been displeased with her performance the other night. I wanted this to be remembered and learned from. I rarely severely punish as I find it to be more effective if I use punishment sparingly. But I do punish if the situation demands it.

  I ran a quick errand and was back before L.A. arrived. I grabbed the paper and began to read just to kill time. I admitted to myself that I was looking forward to this and I had a few surprises in store for her.

  At about ten minutes before noon, I heard her car. I stared at my clock, willing the time to go faster. Those ten minutes seemed to stretch into an hour. At the stroke of noon, I opened the door from the house to the garage.

  LA had done as instructed and was kneeling in the circle dressed in a light floral print dress that had spaghetti strap ties at the shoulders. A flogger was in front of her and the cuffs were on her wrists. I moved quickly and without a word to attach the long chain to her collar with a heavy lock. I didn't use the little locks I usually use. I wanted her to feel the chain and locks against her body.

  I closed the outside door to the garage and we were left in the oppressive heat of a closed garage in a Dallas summer. The noon heat outside was around 98 degrees and threatened to break 100. With all the doors closed to the garage the thermometer inside the garage already showed 108. We had both been forged in the summer heat of Dallas and could endure this for awhile.

  "Whip!" I barked, and she picked up the instrument she had chosen. She kissed it then handed it to me. The whip was the mildest of the four that I had laid out. A good choice for her, it had ten s
oft wide tails and the shortest handle of the bunch. It gave me the least leverage of the four. Still it was brute of a flogger if applied without care

  I lowered the winch till the short chain was at about head height. I grabbed her cuffed wrists and locked the connecting chain of the cuffs to the short chain on the winch with a heavy lock.

  I had decided to use heavier bondage than I usually do. I was making a point that this was punishment and not play. I was making sure that L.A. knew that she was bound and at my mercy until I decided to release her. She shivered as the heavy chain brushed against her legs and breasts. I watched her tug a little against the chain attached to the winch. It would not slip this time and the connecting chain was not just over the hook but locked. I watched her as she did this and I thought I saw just a little understanding in her eyes of what was to come.

  I punched the button on the winch and brought her up flat-footed on the floor. Then another quick tap on the button got her to the balls of her feet.

  I approached her, flogger in hand, and then walked around her twice. She was beautiful, hair and face perfect, body taut and yielding in my chains, but that would not stop me from seeing her punished.

  "What are the duties of a slave?” I asked her.

  "Absolute beauty and absolute obedience, Master." she said in a low voice. Her head was down and eyes were on the floor. She had not dared to look up or at me.

  "You can avoid this by asking for your release. You know that I will grant that immediately upon your request and cut the necklace off your neck. Now the choice is up to you. Will you stay and accept your punishment or will you ask for your release and leave?"

  Those words hung there in the air for a full five seconds before I heard, "I will stay, Master."

  I went to her and untied the shoulder straps and let the dress fall. As requested, she was wearing some of the lingerie I had purchased for her. I had told her when I had bought it for her that it was mine to do with as I please. She also wore the belt that held the batteries and control for the randomly controlled vibrator. The wires from the control disappeared into her panties.

  She had never been involved in knife play, but she would experience that now to a very small degree. I pulled a folding knife from a pocket a flipped it open. This was a lock blade knife made by Berreta and could be opened one-handed.

  The handle was a new lightweight polymer and the blade had been ground out in places to reduce it in weight and make it very light and maneuverable. The edge was very keen. It was serrated near the handle for cutting heavy rope or seat belt material. It was designed for police or emergency response personnel.

  "Be very still slave," I told her. I pulled out the panties from the left hip and slipped the knife in between her body and the panties, then released the waistband. I let the back of the blade touch her skin then sliced the panty. I did the same on the other side, then pulled the remains of the ruined panty from between her legs.

  I pulled on the wires that led to the vibrator and the little egg popped out. I then removed the belt and control pack.

  I slipped the blade between the shoulder straps of the bra and her back. Again I let her feel the steel of the blade lying against her skin before I did anything. After lingering there I cut the shoulder straps of the bra.

  Then I pulled the connecting fabric out from between the cups of the bra and slipped the knife in between her breasts. One slow careful pull of the knife and the connecting fabric between the cups parted, her breasts trying to escape the confines of the bra and elastic of the bra caused it literally to fly off her body and land a foot away.

  She now stood before me, stripped by my hand, bound and collared, chained to a winch, and awaiting her punishment. I walked around her to check the condition of her body by hand, then went and got the scarf and finished the job. Her entire body was up to my demands for smoothness. Legs, underarms, and crotch were perfect. I even spread the cheeks of her ass to find the insides very smooth and hairless. The butt plug was in place as I had commanded. She had used a carrot this time rather than the large plastic one that she had purchased. I removed this as well. I wanted her as naked as the day she was born. As a final touch, I took off her sandals.

  I decided to question her to see whether she knew why she was being punished. Some believe that a slave should be punished as soon as an offense is committed and it is still fresh on the slave's mind.

  Many do as I do and wait until it is convenient to punish. I find, however, that is more effective to have the slave verbally articulate the offense. It brings things into focus for both Master and slave.

  I took the flogger she had picked out and took a couple of practice cuts with it. This one was heavy and would be hard to control. "What are you being punished for?" I asked her.

  She continued to look down at the floor and finally said, "For not instantly obeying my Master."

  "This is not your first offense on this, is it? What was the first?"

  Again she did not look up but spoke softly. "I wore clothing with a nether closure in your presence against your wishes and command."

  I walked around her once to admire the view. She was mine, every submitted shaven slave inch of her. I stood in front of her with the flogger in my hand and considered how to do this. I then put down the heavy flogger and pulled the light rope flogger from its storage place. "Twenty-five strokes, ten with the rope flogger as a warm up, then fifteen with the flogger you picked out."

  I watched her as I pronounced this sentence and saw a small flash of fear in her eyes. But she dropped her head in submission. Her body trembled a little but she said nothing so I began.

  With the rope flogger I began on her back and ass, again avoiding the lower lumbar region and not using all of my strength. Soon the ten strokes were up and her body had taken on a nice pink glow. Her back showed the passing of all the strokes from the individual tails of the whip and her bottom was a nice even pink. Other than some sharp intakes of breath, she had not made a sound.

  I dropped the rope flogger and picked up the leather one again. I hit the floor with it a couple of times. The noise, not unlike the sound of a rubber hammer hitting wood, a dull flat striking sound, caused her to flinch in her chains.

  The remaining fifteen lashes were delivered quickly, randomly, and very lightly. I took three trips around her body and delivered them to various places. She had sagged in the chains when I had delivered the last one but was still standing.

  I am careful when using a flogger like this to avoid the parts of the body that might normally be exposed to view. I had avoided legs, thighs, arms, throat, and shoulders. These areas could be seen if L.A. were to wear a low-cut dress for example.

  Flogger marks or bruises are hard to explain and before you know it, some has reported it, and difficult explanations have to be made.

  Her body was covered in sweat and the passes of the flogger tails stood out in sharp relief against her fair skin. I left her hanging there for a few seconds. I got her a tall glass of cold water and a straw and held it to her mouth. The liquid disappeared in seconds. I did the same thing for myself as my body was in about the same shape and was screaming for fluids.

  I wiped down her body as gently as I could with a towel before I took her inside to the air conditioning. In her condition the shock of the temperature change with her body as sweaty as it was could have caused cramping.

  I lowered the winch and undid the locks. As soon as the tension from the winch was released, she began to sag. Soon she was on the floor, and got to a kneeling position. I released the locks and stowed the chains, then picked up the whip again. "You have one stroke remaining." I told her, and then asked, "Why?"

  She managed to gasp out, "The one to remind me that I'm a slave"

  I then arranged her position a little to get into the classic all fours positions rather the one she had slumped into. I delivered this stroke and let it be the fiercest one of all. I then put my foot on her back and pushed her down to the floor. I wanted her
to feel the warm garage floor against the length of her body. I then led her by the hair into the cool of the house, still keeping her on all fours.

  My punished slave sighed as soon as I closed the door connecting to the garage and the cool of the air conditioning covered her body. I led her to the living room and released her hair as soon as her hands and knees hit the carpet. I had her follow me to my favorite chair and told her to stay.

  I got more water for the both of us. The water in Dallas at the height of summer was just plain awful, so I made a habit of purchasing drinking water one-liter sports bottles, which I kept available at all times. I got a bottle for both of us then collapsed in my chair. After drinking most of the contents, I looked at the lovely slave at my feet. I can only say that if you have never had a slave at your feet, you have not lived.

  She was a mess. Her hair was wild, makeup ruined, and the tracks of tears were visible on her face. Her body was covered in dirt from the floor of the garage. Even through the dirt, I could see where the beating had left its marks and impressions. I would inspect her body in an hour or so to see whether I had bruised or cut her. That had not been my intention and I had been very careful to punish but not harm.