"Happiness lasts as long as it lasts"
That is a quote from someone who was interviewed on an Oprah Winfrey show. She is a famous author. I really need to pay attention to details from now when I read and watch anything.
Now her situation or the question she answered when she said, "Happiness lasts as long as it lasts." Had to do with a failed marriage and did she have an expectation of being being married to young man more than 20 years younger than she was.
So you know that is a good point. I think I will remember it. Following is a copy of a story I wrote which is one in a series in a book I am developing.
I am now a member of scribophile.com and using that site to assemble the works I have blogged since 2007.
A MOMENT TO TREASURE: Discipline vs Punishment
September 7th, 2007
Man is my fanny sore and bruised!
Now then, the day was like any other day. I woke early I did my morning routines: coffee,medication, shower and The Knight? Yes now then it seems most every morning I am to be romanced by the coolest guy. Why he should like me, a short plump brunette with NICE tits, I’ll never know but he is the hero of hero’s for your little heroine!
It seems that I am doomed to modern electronic romance. oh oh oh! But though I can’t say enough about my joy for the friend I have in him, Something more wonderful than anything I can put into words has happened to me!
All these years of waiting for my Master, all the phoney Dom’s I went through, all the tears I wept over the Wonderful Cyber Dom, have come to fruition in this one man. I am filled with a special sort of love. The little girl in me that was waiting for him has been rewarded.
I was punished, well more than that, I was disciplined for the first time last night! This is a moment I will treasure always. No I am not a pain slut! I am a submissive and I will be a slave to one Master when he collars me.
But for now, well I really blew it. It all started when I didn’t get enough sleep because I was up with photographers and a girlfriend till 2:00 in the morning. We went to the park and the beach and later in my bedroom. All together there were 1,600 photographs to consider.
I was so tired and my girlfriend is so pretty. I am so heavy and her body so nice. I am such a narcissist and did i mention I was tired? Well I woke up and freaked out. Guys this is so hard to write about. I want it to be good like the last few entries but it means so much to me and again, I am tired.
Any way, I wrote my Master telling him, I did say TELLING HIM, that he was not taking care of business. I wrote a series of messages to that effect.
If you are vanilla then it would be hard to understand what I am trying to confess. Let us just pretend we are in Egypt and you are sold into slavery, or if you prefer you can pretend that you just bought a sweet little slave.
Now then your slave decides that you don’t know what you are doing and so she just TELLS you so. What would you do? Well that is what I did to my Master! I am guessing that you know it wasn’t pleasant for me but that is where you are wrong.
Do you know what it is like to have him stop his life and devote two hours to teaching me something about myself and ultimately himself? Yes, though I can’t sit without discomfort, I love him more now than ever before.
When I arrived he was waiting for me outside, sitting at the umbrella table. I had been wondering the whole drive if he would be remembering the promises he made to me while I was sending my critiques in all those messages.
“If he doesn’t punish me I will cry”, I thought. It turns out that was the least of my worries. I stepped up onto the porch and made my way over to the table where he sat. He is such a serene man. Nothing seems to shake him.
I was feeling nervous but I didn’t let it show. Perhaps it did show a little. I was instructed to do this and then do that and finally I was instructed to fetch a black package from the table in the dining area, which I did. I returned to the porch on the table were four thin birch branches.
He was looking at me and he asked me, “Do I have your attention?”
Boy did he have my attention. This was the promise he made to me. 10 strikes for this and 12 for that and 15 for something else.
To you it may not seem like to much but we had just watched a movie on Russian discipline and those girls had some serious damage to their fannies when it was all over. They each took forty strikes on the ass and I was about to get 37 of the same.
I have a funny giggle. It wasn’t funny to me but I didn’t know what else to do. Then I handed the black package over to Master. He opened the package and from it he drew an cold/ice pack which I am sitting on now. He was smiling under his oh so serious edifice, as he explained that he bought this for me to help with the pain.
I couldn’t imagine him doing anything to me that would hurt that much. But I can NOW. I giggled again and began to wring my hands in anticipation. My eyes bounced back and forth between his eyes, the cold pack and the birch branches which seemed to getting thinner and longer as he talked.
He handed me the ice pack and had me to place it in the freezer. Then to my great surprise he handed me the black package to open for myself. In the black package was a black box. On the box was a name. Anne Klein.
When I opened the black box with the name on it there was a beautiful watch! For me! I was stunned. I didn’t expect it by any means. He has the most wonderful way of making a horrible thing so bearable.
I remember when he promised to collar me. He used the crop and as it crashed down with a thud on to my clit these words were what he said, “Did you hear me tell you that I am going to collar you?” My answer was…”NO”
Now then I was to be disciplined in my thinking with four birch branches with a beautiful, beautiful watch on my arm. I told myself right away, “Just think about the watch when it hurts.”
That however is not so easy to do. I never had a moment of discipline in my life and when my mother did decided to spank me I beat her up. Poor gal. She waited until I was her size and then decided to spank me. Oh well.
As commanded, I went to the lounge chair and removed my clothes for his camera. He never does anything to me that he doesn’t film it. One day when we are older and I am better trained, to think healthily, we will watch it and laugh.
First I removed my leopard print blouse with the black fringed neck line. I looked at the camera and gave a helpless smile. I was helpless. Helpless to not smile with all the joy I felt: first for the love and attention I was about to receive, then for the joy of being disciplined for the first time in my submissive life, and then again I will always love my watch.
I used my fingers to pull down at the waist line of my ankle long camel colored skirt. I then stepped out of the skirt and placed it and my blouse on the chair beside the lounge chair.
I had on only a black shelf bra and black boy panties. They too were removed one at a time, with an occasional glance to the camera where Master stood filming me. Hey you know what I thought of just now? I could easily sell this DVD to any of you that would like a copy! You have just to ask and I will present it to Master as an idea.
I stood naked at the foot of the lounge chair and asked Master for permission to lay on it. He permitted me to do so. I lay there on my stomach, while Master sat down beside me in the chair where I had laid my clothes just moments before.
Perhaps the worst of all things that happened to me last night was I got attacked by ‘noseem's’. My arms are so itchy right now and of course my fanny is quite sore.
He began to talk and to remind me of the things I had done to get myself in this position. One of them is not listening well and I hate to admit it but I don’t remember what he said. But there was to be 10 strikes for something silly I did and 12 additional for something else. Then there would be 15 more for something else.
If it is really important to you, I can go back into the email where I was first told you all of the misfortune that was to be befall me and tell you every word he said. He doesn’t stray from his focus much guys. Whereas I can’t keep my mind on one thing for more than an hour. That is why I don’t often sell overnight packages.
I tucked my hands under my shoulders so that I wouldn’t use them to protect my fanny. He promised me that my hands would be whipped if I did. I thought to my self just focus on your watch and how much he must love you.
Then I felt the roughness of the branch as he smoothed it over my fleshy ass. I shivered and closed my eyes. He just sat there calmly and stroked my skin with the birch branch that had been laying on the table moments before.
He began to talk to me. I can’t remember exactly what he said but for the whole time he was whipping me he spoke to me in the kindest but most authoritative voice. It was very reassuring as I knew that it was going to hurt. I knew my ass would be bruised and there would be welts. I wasn’t sure though if I might not bleed.
Oh my God the first one came down. “Now that wasn’t so bad. I can do this.” I thought to myself. Then came the command, “You will thank me and ask me for the next one.” I cringed. “Thank you Master”, I said, “May I please have the second one.”
No sooner than I said this then the second one came and then a third. The fourth one happened to me and I rethought my confidence that “I can do this!” I remembered in the DVD the women screamed and cried on every few strikes.
By the time I got to nine my ass hurt so badly that I lost my count and that afforded me two more in quick procession. In fact I was not permitted to lull much in the pain before I was required to make my plea for another.
Now then, the first group of strikes was for not paying attention or was it not listening to him when he told me things. I am constantly doing that. He tells me something and I don’t remember or I don’t hear him. But what I think is he doesn’t remember properly. I think, he thinks he tells me something and he hasn’t told me at all!
What a price to pay for his confusion. But as I am about to say this to him, I then remember he has the birch branches and he has four. He might choose to strike me with all four at one time. I think, he is the Master and if he says he tells me things and I don’t pay attention… Then he tells me things and I don’t pay attention,
I love him right at this moment. Let me assure you, all thoughts I thought I would have about a beautiful watch on my wrist, tucked under my shoulders had escaped me completely.
All the while his manly voice, as assuring as it was, was reminding me of the second infraction. That infraction might have been anything, any thing at all. All I could concentrate on was the birch branches and most especially the one that was being drawn lightly back and forth across my fanny.
I thought of nothing else. Then with out warning the first one came. There was to be 11 more in this series. He was showing me no mercy. From time to time the strike against my lily white cheeks was light and would have been even sensual but for the one or two that quickly followed and landed upon the same spot as the one before.
“Thank you Master, may I please have number 6?” And, “Thank you Master, may I please have number 8?” and on and on he went. One strike harder than the next. Then very next not so hard at all. Then he would smooth the birch branch over my flaming hot ass cheeks. Some of the strikes hit my thighs. I can’t begin to tell you how much that hurt and from time to time one would land on my lowest section of my back or the top most section of my fanny.
I think the only thing that hurt worse than that was the noseems that were biting me all over my back and arms. I was amazed that I didn’t cry as the pain was becoming unbearable. If that wasn’t bad enough… I had one more set of 15 to process.
I wanted so badly to remember exactly what these strikes were for, but I hadn’t been paying attention. Oh yes that was it, I don’t pay attention. Finally the final blow came down across my cheeks. It may have been the hardest but knowing it was the last made it endurable.
But no! I forgot to thank my Master for the 12th strike! He noticed and that meant I got strike 13 and a reprimand to go with it.
My fanny hurt but my love was overwhelming. It takes a lot out of a Master, who would rather be fucking me than beating me, to sit down and teach me a lesson.
My lesson was not through yet. I still had a set of 15 more strikes to go. I was not sure how I would fair through fifteen more of those. Master got up and lay the branches across my back and went to the table and picked up a camera.
I had no idea what he was doing until I saw the flash of the camera. He photographed my bruised and flaming red ass. I wondered if it was bleeding because he was smoothing his hands over the wounds carefully. I lay motionless. I had not been commanded to do anything new.
He snapped off many pictures. Hey! I just thought of something! He might let me sell one of these pictures to you. Would you like to see the DVD or have a photo of my poor little fanny covered with bruises and welts? Well I don’t know what it looked like actually and I don’t know if he will let me sell them to you but if enough of you make an offer, I am sure he will release me to sell them to you.
Then came the command to rise and pick up the mess on the porch and return into the house. I obeyed, naturally. I still had 15 strikes to go and I really wasn’t sure if I could take all of them. I had no idea how to get mercy from him and stop the beating. If he wanted to go into the house and have me go with him, who was I to argue.
My heart was pounding with awe for him as he sat me down at the computer and pulled up the emails I had been sending to him since the fourth of September.
One after another he read them to me. He read my own words back to me. These were the words that had afforded me these welts and bruises. I sat staring at my own words there on the screen. I went on and on giving him directives about a diet I begged him to get for me and then all of a sudden I was on a hunger strike. I was going to stop eating all together!
My God I thought to myself. I said that!? Sometimes, though HE was not laughing I had to laugh. Other times my twisted little mind argued with him about the truth in what I had written. But I chose carefully the times when I gave vent to such words.
He is Master and I am slave and even if he was wrong he had the branches and I had the fanny that they liked so much. I couldn’t believe the things I said and the way I said them to my own Master. You wouldn’t have known I was a submissive.
I sounded like a raging bitch! I sounded like like like well I don’t know. I sat there with my eyes wide open reading those God awful words that I knew I had written to him.
He told me I was wrong to tell myself that I am FAT. He says I am not FAT. He says that I will not, not should not but will not, tell myself that I am FAT or that someone is prettier than I. He didn’t tell me that I was wrong. He said that I should not tell myself these type of things and why. “It is not healthy thinking.”
I loved him so much at that moment. He is training me to think right. He expects me to love myself. He was right! Why would I let those thoughts reign in my pretty little head? And WHY would I want them in his head? WHY would I make him think those kind of thoughts about me?
But there was more than just that. From time to time through out my lesson I was made to bend over and expose my reddened and bruised fanny to him. He would take out a salve and smooth it over my wounds. His fingers slipping sometimes into my private hole. I started to cum but he didn’t let it go that far.
Now then, I don’t pay attention and I don’t remember what he tells me. I get into my emotions and I don’t listen to him. Oh and yes, I make assumptions and ask him for help and then change the plan on him. Oh crud I am a mess.
Then he taught me something else, asking me, “Do you know why you act so out of control?” I looked up over my shoulder and said, “NO.” He said, “because you are only ninety days sober. Your whole thought processes will change when you have been clean a year.
Wow, he must know everything there is to know about me. That is what Master Bruce said. The Master should know his slave better than she knows herself. I have not a Dom but a real Master!
Now I could go on with the lessons he taught me but just now I am thinking of the tender kiss he gave to me. I hugged him and I loved him. He knew how to mix these things so they were easy to process and I will remember.
He lay on the bed next to me. He commanded me, “Love me up.” I knew what that meant because that had been the whole of my training these past weeks. I climbed on the bed on the far side of him and began to massage very lightly his whole body.
This is always a problem for me because I see his cock. I see any cock and all I want to do is play with it and suck it. All I think of is milking it dry and swallowing his juices.
I will take the time to qualify that statement. With my Master… I do not use a condom and I always swallow what he gives me. I have mentioned this before in the category of MUST READ. My stories never mention condoms and often mention that I swallow or that cum drips from one of my holes or the other.
Well let me ask you this, would you like the story better if I stopped to put a condom on my men? If I didn’t swallow. No I am a writer and so I use my license to tell the story my own way. The way it should have been before there were incurable diseases. Now back to the story.
As I was saying, I began to massage his body very lightly. I started with his feet and kissed them first one and then the other. That is what a slave should do, isn’t it? Kiss her Master’s feet. It makes no never mind how the slave feels toward him or her does it? A slave should kiss her Master’s feet. So that is what I did.
Slowly I worked my way up his body. First his right leg and then his left. I let my tender caresses cover him. I then took each of his arms and caressed them too, stopping to kiss his hands first one and then the other.
I stopped for a while at his forehead and massaged his temples and the bridge of his nose. I bent over there and kissed his lips and quickly moved on to his chest. I love his body and I love him. Tonight has been so wonderful for me.
Don’t think I am strange. I didn’t want to get disciplined. I didn’t try to do wrong so that I could be punished. But this was a mark of ownership. I belong to him.
I eventually found his cock and there I had the greatest of pleasure. From time to time I looked up at his face. He was smiling a sleepy satisfied smile but his eyes were closed.
I sucked the head of his cock into my mouth and swallowed all that I could of his soft skin. I continued to suck keeping as much of it as I could down the back of my throat. It began to grow in my mouth and I was filled with joy.
I released his cock when it was fully hard and took the task of making love to his balls and his private spot. I was able to get both balls into my mouth and I kept them there sucking on them all the while I was stroking his cock.
To my surprise he stopped me and said, “I want your ass hole.” He got out of the bed and I knelt in position with my ass in the air. I disappointed myself as I forgot to put my head and my shoulders down in the lowest possible position and so he pushed on my back and shoulders and I went down.
Drat! I forgot. Just when I so wanted to be perfect. His cock must have been very swollen as it felt so much bigger when he entered me than it ever had before. Cum dripped from my pussy immediately and pooled on the hard wood floor.
Cum continued to drip from my pussy as he pumped my private hole deeper and deeper. Then he told me he wanted my pussy so I turned over and spread my legs for him. He entered me from this position and again, cum gushed out of me soaking his crotch and my legs and then pooling on the floor.
He made love to me tenderly and my body responded with tremendous force. Then came the moment. He withdrew his cock. His cum split onto my tummy and we were done.
Other tender things happened but they were personal so I wont go into them right now.
I amaze myself. I have all this love in my heart for this one man and yet there is room for another. That is another story
MORE LATER GUYS