Whenever I am naughty, which is often, my Master punishes me with a heavy fist. I can’t help being naughty- I love Master’s punishments so much. The other day he instructed me very specifically that I should sit still while he fastened the restraints. It was a bed with straps that pulled each limb in a different direction, like a medieval torture device. I planned on behaving, but memories of him with a furrowed brow and his rough hands smacking my ass until my skin was screaming in agony, all made it far too tempted to poke the beast once more. With each nerve he sends into searing pain, the juicier my slit would get. I began to fidget relentlessly, making it hard for him to strap me down. A familiar, dark look came over his eyes. My nipples poked out like daggers in the cold room as he finished securing the tie downs. My naked body lay there quivering at the thought of what he might do to punish me. He took out a whip and after countless lashes, my welted torso ached. Whimpering, I looked up at him, “Please Sir, I promise to be a good girl.” But the discipline isn’t over. He releases my ankles and tears his way into my dry ass hole while holding my ankles up by my head. It feel like fire! Will I ever learn to behave?
Cydney
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