Focus

I've been out of sorts lately. Unfocused. For good reason, mind you, but Mister is right. Enough is enough. Today, I will learn to re-focus. He has decided that I need to let go of the worry over things I have no control over and remember than there is only so much I can do in any situation. I've been too obsessive about things and that never helps anything - neither the situation, nor me, nor the the people involved. So, this isn't really a day of punishment, but rather of refocusing.

He's determined to remind me that I can't control the universe. At times, I can't even control my own body. And with that lack of control, somehow everything works out just fine. So - He's taken control of my body away from me. I will wear wrists cuffs all day. Sometimes, they will be joined, sometimes attached to other things, sometimes I'll have no bonds to hold me at all. He makes that decision.

I can't speak other than to answer a question or use my safe word. Which means, I can't even tell him when I need to use the bathroom. I have to wait for him to ask me if I do, then he must give me permission.  This is hard, because he's starting the day with a forced enema. Three, actually. One of warm water to clean me out, the second of with cool, almost cold water with lemon juice added. This will cause me to cramp terribly, but he has added a large plug to prevent most leakage. I want to beg him to let me release, but he's set a timer. I must hold this for at least 10 minutes. One that is released, he again fills my bowels with warm water to help was away any residue. This he makes me hold for 15 minutes while I suck on his cock. I'm crying from humiliation. I hate when he administers these enemas. Usually, he simply orders me to do it, but he's teaching me that I have less control over life, even my own body, than I would like. He grabs my head and pushes down. His hips jerk as he fills my mouth with his seed. Now this, this I love. To know I've pleased him and to drink of his own body. He kisses my forehead and tells me that my time is up. I can release the plug in private and he steps out of the room.

I'm grateful for this and quickly attend to my cleansing. I know this much attention to my nether region means one thing. It will be well used today. Sure enough, I finish cleaning myself and step out into the hallway. He takes me to the basement - which used to be a root cellar - so it's dark, a little damp and scary. He takes me over to bench and binds me to it. It will be a long time, I know, before I am released. I blush even though I have been here before. Still, he has access to every intimate area of my body and I am helpless to stop anything. My breasts even dangle between the center bar and I have no doubt he will take advantage of this.

He begins with the flogger. Gently, easy. But soon, his strikes become harder, faster. I'm crying out in pain and he reminds me that I have one choice only. To say the Safe Word or endure. I choose to endure. Then, he puts the flogger down. He runs his hand over my hot skin and down my slit. I'm very wet and uses my own moisture to lube my anus. I close my eyes. I knew this was coming. He enters my back door, not harshly, but with purpose. He grasps my hips and fucks. I can't touch him and call out his name. He has all the control, not me. It takes him a while since he's already come in my mouth, so he pounds away, his balls slapping against my wet pussy lips. I want him in my pussy, but I can't ask him. I must be silent. He has the control to use whatever he chooses. I feel the rhythm speed up and hear his labored breathing. He pulls out and sprays my ass and back with his steaming stream. I hate this and he knows it. This is why he did it. He's teaching me that I can't control everything. Sometimes, I can't control my own body.

He rests for a while, leaving me bound to the bench. He gets a glass of water and, using a straw, offers me a sip. Then, he goes back to my bottom. This time with a leather paddle. I'm already crying but you ignore this. I can say my Word and it will stop, but I don't. I don't want to stop. I don't want control. Ten strikes to each cheek and thigh you give me. I'm beyond sobbing now. You check to make sure I'm okay and I am. You unhook me and cradle me in your arms. You kiss me and hold me and whisper that I've been good. You're proud of me. If I can keep this up, perhaps tonight or tomorrow you'll actually fuck my pussy. I moan in anticipation, but cuddle against you. You're right. I did to to refocus and the only way I was going to do that was by giving you total control.

Wild Irish Rose

Rose stood before Him, waiting. Not only was today Inspection Day, but it is also St. Patrick's Day - His favorite holiday. He called her his Wild Irish Rose for good reason. She was indeed both Irish and Wild. Only a strong man could tame her, hence the need for a weekly inspection. Her muff must be trimmed neatly, but enough hair must be left to show her true genetics. Her body must be free of bruising unless previously reported - Rose was both clumsy and a bit on the wanton side. She must be wet. Always wet for Him. Her nipples perky and hard. Her anus empty and clean. Inspection day came only once a month and never on the same date. It was always a surprise to her. If she failed in any of her requirements, she would pay a penalty. Then again, she often enjoyed the penalty, so she would sometimes leave her pubic hair a bit frazzled, "forget" to do a cleanse. There wasn't much chance of her pussy not juicing since the very thought of Him made her puddle, nor was it likely that her nipples would not be perky for the very same reason. Just the thought of His mouth on them turned the pretty pink points into hardened pebbles. 

Today, it was the muff. She'd not trimmed it in several days and the edges were definitely frayed. 

"You've not been caring for my puss, Rose," He said.

"I've been busy, Sir, and with it being so cold, I didn't think you'd mind," she answered smartly.

"Think again. You know the rules," 

Rose hung her head and nodded. He sat on the edge of His chair and patted his lap. Silently, Rose assumed her position.

"I've got a surprise for you, Rose. In honor of the Feast Day, I've purchased a new paddle. Let's see how well you like it. Seventeen is the magic number for today."

He showed Rose the pretty new paddle - embossed leather - and she knew she would regret her rash decision of not shaving. He was not light with leather and since this was a punishment, she would be given no warm up. Time and again the paddle descended on her raised bottom. Only once did she put her hands over herself to block the blows. He graciously allowed her a moment to recover, then held her hands locked at the small of her back to ensure no repeat of her indiscretion. By the time He finished, Rose was sobbing, her bottom as red as her untrimmed hair. She begged forgiveness. He held her, kissed her head and granted her wish. Wanting to please Him, Rose slid to the floor and looked up at him, her eyes begging.

"Yes, Rose, you may," He said.

Quickly, she unzipped his trousers and got to work. She heard him moan with pleasure and smiled around his cock. She sucked his shaft while massaging his jewels, eager to please Him. Even after he feed her the Milk of Forgiveness, she remained at his feet, her cheek resting on his knee, His hand on her head.

"I do so love you, my Wild Irish Rose."