Punish Me, Please Me Read online

  She said nothing. She had a lot to think about.

  “Lesson Three is the lesson of the made bed. I’ve already explained that. I hope for your sake that you were listening and learning. Now, you will pack everything except for your hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste into your suitcase. Then sit back in the chair and wait for me.” He left the room.

  After re-packing her bag, she had only been sitting in the chair for a couple of minutes when she heard the door open again. Paul’s voice said, “Stand up, walk around behind the chair and bend over the back.”

  As she walked around the chair, she saw that he was carrying another plastic bag. He pulled a black leather paddle from the bag. “What do you think you’re going to do with that?” she asked.

  “What did I tell you to do before I left?”

  “Pack my stuff in my suitcase. I did that.”

  “Do you believe that I am going to help you have better relationships with men?”

  She thought for a minute. The lessons that he had given her so far seemed to make sense. “Yes.”

  “I promised you that you would never regret obeying my commands but I can also promise you that you will regret failing to obey my commands. Bend over the back of the chair.”

  “Master Exeter made that promise, not you.”

  “I obey Master Exeter and honor his promises on his behalf. Your contract with him includes me as well.” His voice turned hard. “Now do as I say before you earn any additional punishment. Bend over the chair.”

  She bent over the chair, offering her backside to him. This was the kind of humiliation that she had expected when she had signed the contract two months ago. She had told herself that she would obey but actually doing it was worse than she expected. She had imagined bending over for an older, far more handsome man.

  “Raise your dress to your waist.”

  She told herself again, In for a penny, in for a pound, and lifted her skirt to bare her buttocks.

  The paddle hit with a loud smack and she twitched. “What instruction did I give to you before I left?”

  “Pack my stuff in my suitcase.”

  The second smack stung worse. Her buttocks twitched again.

  “Exactly what did I say?”

  “To pack everything but my brushes and toothpaste.”

  Smack. She yelped and her reddened buttocks jerked a third time.

  “Did you do that?” Paul asked.

  “Yes.”

  Smack. She yelped again. “That hurts.”

  “It’s supposed to hurt. What are you holding in your hands?”

  She looked at her hands. “The hem of my dress.”

  Smack. Another yelp. She shuffled her foot against the carpet.

  “Is that a toothbrush or toothpaste?”

  “No.”

  Smack. She twitched and whimpered.

  “Where should your dress be?”

  She got it now. “In my suitcase.”

  Smack. She yelped and her feet danced against the carpet.

  “Stand up and correct your error.”

  She stood up and slipped the dress off over her head. “I didn’t understand that you wanted me to be naked.”

  “I want you to do exactly what I tell you to do, including whatever is implied by my instructions, whatever the consequences.”

  She folded the dress and put it into her suitcase.

  “Now take the chair to the desk, sit down, and write out the three lessons that you have learned so far. Describe what you have learned in detail. You will be using your notes for future reference. I will check them for accuracy and quality. Shortcomings will merit punishment with the paddle on your ass.

  She sat down on her burning buttocks and began writing. After a minute, she heard the door closing, leaving her alone again. She looked up and saw that her suitcase was gone. She had been left nude without a stitch of clothing in the room.

  She had never felt so vulnerable.

  She had never felt less bored.

  * * *

  “When will I meet Master Exeter?”

  “Buckle this collar about your neck,” Paul removed a black dog collar from a plastic bag and handed it to Celine. There was a small key attached to the collar by a split ring.

  After she had the collar buckled, he handed her a pair of handcuffs. “Cuff your hands behind your back.”

  She had to fumble for a minute to get them locked in place.

  “The key for the handcuffs is on your collar, out of your reach. You cannot release yourself but anyone who comes into this room has the power to release you. You put yourself in this position when you fastened the collar about your neck and cuffed your hands behind your back. You may not have realized the implications of what you were doing this time, but next time, you will understand exactly what you are doing to yourself. You are removing control over your own body from yourself and giving it to someone else, possibly a stranger. That is the fundamental operation of voluntary sexual slavery: to take control over your body away from yourself and give it to someone else. You did that when you signed your contract with Master Exeter, you did it again when you resolved to obey my commands, and you did it just now when you bound yourself in my presence.”

  Paul unbuckled the collar from her neck and used the key to release the handcuffs. He placed all of these objects on the small table by the window. He added an additional leather item to them. “This is a blackout blindfold. It buckles around your head tightly enough that it cannot be removed. The blindfold is lined with foam that compresses around your eyes and blocks out all light. Once in place, you will not be able to see anything until it is removed.”

  Celine looked at the blindfold. It certainly looked effective.

  Paul continued talking. “All these objects are yours. I used money from your purse to buy them. I put the receipt in your purse. You will be buying other items during the week. I would estimate that you will have to purchase two or three hundred dollars worth of equipment. As well, you will be purchasing some clothing. You can spend as much or as little on that as you want.”

  Celine knew that she should object to Paul having raided her purse but she would worry about that later. Right now, she was staring at the three objects on the table like a rabbit staring at a cobra. This was it. This was sexual bondage.

  “I’m going to leave. You will prepare yourself to be fucked. You will buckle the collar about your neck and then you will blindfold yourself and cuff your hands behind your back. Leave the key clipped to the collar, out of your reach. Sometime this afternoon, someone will come into this room and use your body. With your hands locked behind your back, you will be helpless to stop them and, with the blindfold buckled about your eyes, you will never know who has fucked you. I will return late in the afternoon to take you to dinner.”

  Celine did not speak, did not look up from the table. She continued to stare at the objects long after Paul was gone. Eventually, she picked up the blindfold and turned it around in her hands, first examining the straps and buckles, then holding it to her eyes, letting the straps and buckles dangle beside her cheeks. The foam lining ensured that no light would pass her nose or reach the outer corners of her eyes. When wearing it, she would be completely blind.

  She fastened the buckle behind her head, tight but not uncomfortable. She could see nothing whatsoever. With trembling hands, she felt around the table until she had the dog collar in her hands. She could feel the handcuff key still clipped to the D ring. She buckled it around her neck.

  Her hands were still free. She could still unbuckle the collar and blindfold. She clicked one steel cuff closed around her left wrist. With only one wrist cuffed, she wasn’t committed yet; she could still reach up and get the key to unlock it.

  Did she really want to do this?

  She put her hands behind her back and took a deep breath. If she clicked the other cuff closed about her right wrist, then she would be committing herself to being fucked by a stranger. She would have no way to stop hi
m from doing whatever he wanted to do to her. She still had the “red light” phrase, but, if he ignored that, she wouldn't be able to fight him off. Did she really believe that a horny man would respect that phrase when she had voluntarily stripped naked, given a stranger a key to her room, and then blindfolded and handcuffed herself? She couldn’t tell the police that she had been raped. They wouldn’t even write a report. No matter what lie she tried to tell, they’d look at the evidence, laugh at her naiveté, and escort her out of the station.

  She clicked the handcuff closed about her second wrist. It was done. She had now sealed her fate. She had physically consented to allow anyone who came into this room to do whatever they wanted to do to her.

  She stumbled around the room until she felt the bed against her shins, then lay down upon it to wait for the inevitable. With the handcuffs digging into the small of her back, the most comfortable position was lying on her side.

  Who was coming to use her? Paul himself? Or had he really been preparing her for his master, like he said. Or was he, right now, down in the hotel bar selling her services to anyone with a few hundred bucks in their pocket and lust in their eye? Maybe he was nothing but a pimp and this was his tricky way of breaking in new talent for his stable. Maybe she’d end up servicing a dozen men this afternoon. Maybe Paul would never bother coming back to free her. Maybe he’d pocket the money and drive straight back to wherever he lived, a couple thousand dollars richer, leaving strangers to pass her room key around to anyone who wanted to use her for the rest of the night. In her mind, she could hear him talking to a man in a bar down the street, saying, She’s into it. She’ll take you any way you want, oral, anal, whatever. Mix and match. Do her asshole for a while, then let her suck you clean before you dump your load in her cunt. She wants you to treat her rough. Three hundred bucks and you can have her any way you want for an hour. It’s a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ game up there. You don’t say a word and neither will she. Just push her into any position you want and have a ball with her.

  What had ever possessed her to trust a strange man so completely?

  She tugged on the handcuffs but they held tight. She pushed and pulled but she could not move her wrists down past her hips to get her hands in front of her; or raise them up high enough in her back to reach the collar about her neck. She squirmed and struggled to scrape the blindfold against the bed but it would not budge. She was well and truly trapped and, before the afternoon was over, she would be well and truly fucked.

  As time passed, her mind wandered further and further afield. Maybe Paul was going to bring a camera and broadcast her rape over the Internet. Maybe she would be tomorrow’s most notorious Internet celebrity. Maybe anything might happen.

  If Paul were going to betray her, there was nothing that she could do about it now. She squeezed her thighs together and felt moisture around her crotch. Her mind might be in turmoil, but her cunt was ready for action. She thought about how long it had been since a man had fucked her. She never used the word “fucked”, even in her thoughts, it was always “sleeping with a man” or “making love”, but, lying here, bound, blindfolded and helpless, she felt free to think of herself in crude, earthy, unfamiliar ways. She knew that a man was going to fuck her cunt but good before the afternoon was over. She could hardly wait.

  The door clicked. She froze and listened to it brush over the carpet and then click closed again. She waited. Nothing happened. Was someone in the room? “Hello?” There was no answer. “Hello!” she called more loudly. She paused and listened. Still no answer. She listened hard as she could for a long time but could hear no sound above her own deep, ragged breathing.

  How much more time passed? Minutes? An hour? She guessed that Paul had opened the door, looked in to see if she had secured herself as instructed and then left again. That meant that he was not going to use her himself. Instead, he had gone out to tell someone else that she had made herself ready to serve their pleasure.

  She had not idea how long she had spent lying on the bed with her hands cuffed behind her back. Had it been as little as a quarter hour or as long as three? She couldn’t see a clock, couldn’t even see if the sun was setting over the distant mountains. She had no sense of time.

  Suddenly, she heard the door latch click and the door brush open again. This time there was lots of noise. Footsteps across the carpet and around the bed. It sounded like only one man but how would she know for sure? The whisper of clothing brushed against the chair. The sound of a zipper being pulled. Celine guessed that a heavy-set man was getting undressed. There was a creak and the bed shifted. She had been lying on her side; now a heavy hand pushed on her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. She did not resist. The handcuffs were digging into her lower back so she moved her arms to one side so that her wrists were sticking out. It was an uncomfortable position because it stretched one of her shoulders, but not as bad as trying to lie on the handcuffs.

  A hand cupped her chin and mint-flavored lips gently brushed against hers. Her mouth was peppered with small kisses, then they stopped and soft, relaxed lips covered hers. She obediently parted her teeth but no tongue penetrated her mouth. Instead the soft strange mouth worked slowly against hers, lips parted halfway, promising paradise to come.

  Celine decided that she had not been pimped out. As nearly as she knew, hookers’ clients didn’t waste a whole lot of time in romantic kissing. The strange mouth left hers and she felt a strong knee force itself between her thighs. Obediently, she parted her legs and let the man settle against her crotch. She could feel his erection against her mons but he did not penetrate her right away. Rather, he reached between her legs and grabbed himself to tease her nether lips by rubbing the head of his cock along her slit, lubricating himself with the fluid that was flowing freely from her sex. Was she feeling skin or latex against her cunt lips? She could not tell. Right now, she did not care. She arched her back and spread her legs as wide as she could to open her cunt and make it available to him. She could not use her hands to grab his hips and pull him into her. Maybe for that reason, she felt more impatient to get the man inside her than she had ever felt before. She did not feel the slightest reluctance or hesitation about being penetrated to her core but she could do nothing but entice him with her availability and wait until he chose to move into her.

  When he finally penetrated her, she began grinding her hips against him as vigorously as she could manage with her arm pulled across her back and her wrists locked beside her waist. She squeezed every bit of stimulation from him as she could get and, within a couple of minutes, came long and hard. She screamed with delight. The stranger kept working at her for another minute as she slowly sank into post-orgasmic oblivion. She was barely aware when he came, too. He lay on top of her, motionless for some minutes, waiting until his last pulses died away and his breathing slowly returned to normal.

  Then, without warning, he climbed off the bed and began moving about the room. She listened to him dressing himself and, sooner than she expected, heard the door click open and closed. Her new lover was gone and she was alone again, still blindfolded, still handcuffed. Neither of them had spoken a single word. She had no idea who he was, what he looked like, not even how old he was.

  She rolled back on her side and waited for Paul to return.

  Maybe she napped, or maybe she was merely drifting in post-coital bliss, but not much time seemed to pass before the door opened again.

  Again she heard the sounds of a man undressing. The same man or a different one? He sounded the same but all men probably sound alike when they are undressing. This man was faster and rougher; or maybe it was the same man who was choosing to treat her differently this time. He grabbed her ankles, one hand on each, flipped her onto her stomach, and dragged her half off the bed. Her nipples hurt when they were dragged over the rough embroidered quilt and she whimpered in protest.

  The unknown man positioned her with her feet on the floor and her torso pressed against the bed. The bed was high,
so her knees were slightly bent, pressing against the edge of the mattress. He raised her ass up and kicked her feet apart. She thought that this man was going to take her anally and prepared herself for the pain of an unlubricated penetration, but he ignored her virgin asshole and pushed roughly into her already-well-lubricated cunt. He humped her doggy-style for a long time before he came. Though he lasted longer than the first man, he gave her no pleasure. The first man had made love to her. This man merely used her and then left as soon as he was sated.

  The difference between the two experiences was great enough that she chose to believe that she had been penetrated by two different men. It was possible that the men were random strangers, but she thought it more likely that the first man, the sensuous one, was the mysterious Master Exeter and the second man, the insensitive one, was his stumpy, practical valet. The reverse could not be true. The master would not take sloppy seconds. Possibly Paul did not have permission to use her. Maybe she was only supposed to be used once this afternoon but the servant had stolen her service from his master without his knowledge. Maybe that was why she had not been taken anally: because her virgin asshole would have shown evidence of the unauthorized penetration but her well-used cunt would not.

  The test would be whether a third man came to the room to use her. If there was a third man then she was probably being used by strangers but if she was only used by two, then they were probably Exeter and Paul.

  She did not know which option excited her more; she only knew that she was enjoying a unique experience and, though having been beaten lightly and quasi-raped, she did not yet regret having answered Exeter’s Internet advertisement. Humiliation at the hands of strangers was an interesting experience. She wondered if she would experience regret before her period of slavery was over. Maybe she would only regret that her slavery had to end.

  She rested, maybe napped again, maybe not, for another indeterminate period of time until she heard the door open for the fourth time. Was she to be used again? Penetrated a third time by a third man?