Chapter Four

Punishment

Phillip awoke with Sarah’s body still spooned into his—his arms wrapped around her, holding her. For a moment, he buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply the scent of her. She slept on, exhausted from their morning activities. Gently, he unwrapped himself and stood, gazing upon her sleeping form.

She had been so compliant in everything so far—except for the food that morning. He would try that again later. He wanted her for his sub, his slave. Her enthusiasm to serve him with her body gave him hope she would be willing to serve in other ways as well. But he wanted that servitude only if she were willing and only with her spirit unbroken.

He went to the dresser and quietly pulled out a drawer, taking out a present he had bought for her. Laying it beside her on the bed, he tiptoed out, letting her rest. He’d try her enough in the hours to come.

Upon awakening an hour or so later, Sarah discovered she was alone in the bed. Rising, she made her toilette and cleaned up from their earlier lovemaking—although a week ago she never would have coupled anything so violent with the act of making love. And yet, they were compatible.

Since her cuffs were still in place, she did not shower, but simply used a washcloth to clean and make herself presentable. Her stomach growled loudly and she remembered she hadn’t eaten breakfast. The clock on the dresser read 2:15—so she’d missed lunch as well!

It wasn’t until Sarah went to straighten the covers on the bed that she found the lingerie he’d laid out for her. Holding up the bra, she saw that, although the material was black, it was sheer and hid nothing. There were sheer black stockings as well, and a garter belt to hold them up. She’d never worn real stockings before, only pantyhose. A little experimentation with the clips on the garter belt, however, and she figured out how they worked.

There was a small scrap of cloth left on the bed and she picked it up as well, turning it about to figure out its purpose. “Oh!” She covered her mouth and checked the door to see if he’d heard her surprise as she realized what it was. In her fingers she held the smallest pair of panties she’d ever seen—and realized it was a G-string.

But she couldn’t wear these! She’d feel like…well, she’d feel very naughty in them, that was certain. She put on the bra to see what it looked like. It was the right size—a fact which was not lost on her. How had he known? She colored as she realized her clothes had sat on the chair all last weekend and he must’ve looked. The fact that he’d gone shopping for her this week, and lingerie shopping at that, made her smile with delight.

Eagerly, she pulled on the G-string, stockings and belt, fastening the front clasps easily enough. The back ones were a little harder to reach and she twisted around several times trying to catch one. She giggled as she realized she must look like a dog making his bed turning around and around like that. Finally catching it, she fastened the back of her stockings and stood to look at herself in the mirror.

And the word popped into her mind again. Slut. Standing there in such sexy garments—garments she never would’ve had the courage to purchase for herself, her pert nipples made the sheer fabric stick out. Her pubic hair showed around the tiny scrap of the G-string and she remembered his request when she was tied. He wanted her to shave. Could she? Her hand ran through her soft hair and toyed with it a moment. Could she actually do that? Swallowing hard, she knew she would. Briefly she remembered the incident about breakfast and how she’d determined she wouldn’t be back next weekend. And here she was actually contemplating fulfilling an action he wanted her to do outside of their time together.

She turned to look at herself from another angle and knew, dressed like this, she looked the part. She was a slut—a slave for his use. She needed to look those words up in the dictionary when she got home. Was there a difference between slave and slut—or whore? There was suddenly so much she didn’t know.

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she realized he wanted her dressed this way. It was how he expected to see her when she went to him. It was her master’s will that she look this way. Sarah had to sit down on the bed as the thought took hold.

Phillip wanted her to look like a slut. What must he think of her to want her to dress like this? By buying her these clothes and putting them out for her to wear…were they like a costume? Was this a part she was to play? Or did they represent something more—something he wanted from her. Yes. Her heart beat hard. That was it right there. The relationship they were developing was not a game to him—he wanted a slave—a real slave who would do what he wanted when he wanted without question and without hesitation. If he needed a cleaning lady or a cook, he could command her to be that. If he wanted a slut, then he expected her to dress like one, to act like one, to become one.

Her head reeled with the implications. Images of the morning flashed before her inner eye—his mastery of her, and her need to be mastered. There was no doubt her body responded to his manipulations. In fact, that was why she’d come back this weekend. She liked the way Phillip controlled her. And she liked pleasing him. His cheeks would get this cute little dimple in them each time he smiled and she liked getting him to smile.

Standing again, she took another look in the mirror. Was he right? Was there a slut hiding inside her? Throwing her hands up in frustration, she slapped them on her thighs and sighed. Well, she wasn’t going to find out here. Only time with Phillip would give her that answer. Taking a deep breath, she turned from the mirror and went out.

He was spread out on the couch, his face buried in the newspaper he had bought that morning. For a moment, she hesitated. He hadn’t called her; how should she approach him? Finally she walked around to the front of the couch and simply knelt in her customary position, waiting for him to notice her in her new finery. Putting her hands behind her and spreading her knees put stress on the fabric and she closed her eyes briefly against the sudden thrill.

Hearing the rustle of the newspaper, her eyes flew open and she looked straight ahead as she’d been taught. He set the paper on the low table before him and commanded her, “Stand, slave.”

She rose, keeping her hands behind her. “Put your hands at your sides and turn for me—show me your new clothes.”

She relaxed her arms and began a slow turn for him, a smile playing about her lips. Tossing her head, Sarah shook her shoulder-length hair at him, hiding her self-consciousness at being dressed in this manner. Glancing back at him as she turned, she saw that dimpled smile and giggled. She was actually enjoying showing off for him! The G-string up the crack in her rear only accentuated the fact that her cheeks were bare. Continuing her turn so that her back was to him, she did not realize he had risen until he put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her.

“Very nice, slave. I like seeing you in the clothes I have purchased for you. Do you like them?”

Her voice was unsteady with the desire to please him and to find out about herself. “Yes, Sir—I like them very much.”

His hands slid down off her shoulders, along her arms, coming to rest on her butt cheeks below. His mouth nuzzled her ear. “Do you like them well enough to wear them this week for me?”

Her head spun for a moment—wear underwear like this to work? A flush started at her neck and colored her whole face as she whispered, “Yes, Master. I would wear these to work for you.” And she would—she could hardly believe it of herself, but she would. Her stomach fluttered in nervousness at the thought. She would shave herself and she would wear sexy underwear, simply because he’d commanded it and she wanted to please him.

Phillip smiled behind her. He had no intention of letting her wear them to work; she needed to be able to concentrate on her job. All he’d wanted to know was how willing she was to please him outside of their weekend agreement. Her answer pleased him a great deal. She was starting to discover the hidden side of herself.

Moving around in front of her, Phillip simply commanded, “Follow me,” and she went along behind as he led her to the room they both were starting to call the dungeon.

The furniture in the room had been shifted. The large, covered object from the corner was now pulled out to the center, still hidden behind its blue cloth. With a deft tug, Phillip revealed the cage beneath. It stood almost to the ceiling—a good two and a half meters tall at least. But it wasn’t very wide or very deep. He opened a door on its front and gestured to her.

Images of The Pit and the Pendulum crept into her mind and she almost balked. But she glanced down at the cage he had put her in last week, now covered and in the corner. That hadn’t been too bad, not after she’d gotten used to it. Biting her lip, she stepped inside.

The door slammed behind her and she flinched. The lock went home and she knew she was trapped. In the tiny space she had, she turned around quickly to look at him, fear in her eyes. She swallowed hard and calmed, seeing him still there, smiling gently at her.

“Yes, slave, this is a cage for you. Feel how it has you locked in—a place for me to keep you.” He pulled up a wing-backed chair he’d gotten earlier from the other room and sat comfortably, leaning back with his legs outstretched. “Perform for me, slave. Let me watch you in your cage.”

“Perform? I do not understand.” She looked at him, confused.

For answer, he just cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I do not understand, Master.” How could she forget his title? He sat there, obviously her master, since she was caged and he was not.

“I want to see you perform, slave. You are here to entertain me. Make me want you.”

Slut. He didn’t say the word, but it hung heavy in the air. He had dressed her like one, now she was to perform as one. Swallowing hard, Sarah tested the limits of the bars, finding out just how much—or how little—room she had to maneuver. She didn’t know how to perform the way he wanted, but she’d seen a few movies in her time. Trying to copy the moves of the girls on the poles, she arched her back for him, pushing out her breasts against the sheer fabric that barely confined them. Grabbing the top of the cage to steady herself, she twisted and turned, letting him see her from every angle.

The confinement of the cage was turning her on. She couldn’t move much, but there was something about being locked inside the bars, performing for him, that started to arouse her. It made her feel naughty and sexy. Perhaps Phillip was right and there was a sexy siren buried deep inside her. She turned around, saw the bulge in his pants and turned again so he would not see her smile. She wasn’t the only one enjoying this.

Phillip relaxed, watching her primitive attempts at being sexy. The fact that Sarah was enjoying herself, however hesitantly, proved his instincts about her had been correct. It was equally obvious, however, that she needed direction. Direction he would be happy to provide. “Play with yourself, slave—make yourself ready.”

Play with herself? She barely did that alone in the privacy of her own bedroom and he wanted her to do it while he watched? Trembling a little, she put her hands to her breasts, her fingers circling her nipples.

“Good, slave. Make them stand out for me—get them wet.”

She put a finger into her mouth, got it wet with her spit then ran it around one of her nipples, soaking the bra. Her nipple sprang out to meet her finger and she was surprised by the sudden arousal it caused. With more assurance, she got it wet again and did the same to the other nipple, soaking a pair of small circles on her bra.

“Pinch them, slave. Make them good and hard.”

She did as he instructed. Pinching her nipples hard under her thumb and forefinger, she felt a familiar wetness gathering between her legs. She pulled on the nipples, constrained from pulling too far by the sheer bra. Her fingernail, digging deep around the base of her nipple caused a soft moan to escape from the depths of her growing desire. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feelings coursing through her, no longer questioning them.

Her inhibitions fading, she let a hand fall down to the G-string. She wanted to take it off, but there wasn’t room to bend inside the cage. Instead, she let her fingers work their way down to her pussy. Gathering some of the wetness there, she brought up her wet fingers and rubbed the warm liquid around her nipple, soaking the dark bra further and causing the hard nipple to show even more. Going down again with her hand, she trailed her fingers over her clit this time before bringing up more of her juices to soak the other nipple.

Phillip stood and approached the cage. Smiling at him she offered him her breasts, but instead he took her wet hand and pulled it through the cage, licking her fingers clean of her juices as he watched for Sarah’s reaction. His cock was so hard, it was getting painful, but he would not relinquish to it—yet.

 Sarah’s knees melted, feeling his mouth around her fingers. Unconsciously, her other hand slipped down into her panties again, soaking her fingers and rubbing her clit. There was something very sexy about being so close to him, yet separated by the hard, iron bars of the cage.

Phillip reached in and took her other hand, pulling it away from her sex as well. Now he held both of her hands in his. Again he licked the fingers, sucking them, cleaning them of their juices. She moaned as her arousal grew and she pushed her hips against the side of the cage, wanting him to touch her, to lick her there.

But her desire was young yet, and he was not going to let her finish her performance so soon. He let go of her hands and stepped up onto a small stool that sat to the side of the cage. “Raise your arms, slave.”

She did as she was told and he fastened her cuffs to the top of the cage, preventing her from touching herself again. She moaned in frustration, tugging at her bindings, even though she knew it was futile. He stepped down and moved to the front of the cage again, reaching in and taking hold of her hips. Slowly he pulled her forward and she went eagerly, hoping to feel his touch under the G-string. The need for release was building inside her.

When he stopped her, less than an inch from the bars, she tried to move forward on her own. At least he could let her rub against her cage! He laughed at her antics and held her firmly. The sound of his laugh only increased her need. It reminded her all too well that she was his slave, his plaything to use—or not use. The animal nature in her responded and she cried out in desire.

He let her hips go and guided her gently back until she was standing. But before she could move again, he’d retrieved a short length of rope from the table and was at her side. Deftly he passed the rope through the bars, and between her legs. She spread herself for him, hoping he would touch her sex. But it was not to be. He pulled her leg out toward the bars of the cage and tied it firmly to the bar. Passing the rope around her thigh several times so it wouldn’t cut into her, he at last tied it off. Coming around to the other side, he kicked away the stool and did the same thing to her other leg. Her toes just touched the floor unless she straightened her arms and hung by her hands.

He stood back to admire his handiwork—and her performance. Tied as she was, horny as she was, she could do nothing to help herself. “Yes, slave,” he murmured, “you look very sexy tonight—all dressed up for me in the clothes I bought you.”

She hung there, helpless, her nipples still pushing against the fabric now drying stiff from her juices. The stockings and the garter only added to her sexiness whether she knew it or not. He circled the cage, admiring her.

She knew she was blushing at his examination. Never had she felt so on display—and in such a position! Her legs spread for him, wanting to feel his touch on her sex; her desire to please warring with her desire for release.

He approached the cage and reached in, running his hand along the line of the bra. She moaned with pleasure and he smiled—he liked the noises she made when she was aroused. He pinched her nipple and was rewarded with a gasp. Letting his hand drift downward, he paused at the top of the G-string before plunging beneath it, burying a finger inside her sex.

She felt so vulnerable at that moment. Knowing she could not prevent him from doing anything he wanted; knowing that she would not prevent him. She groaned loudly and tried to move to close her legs on his hand, but, of course, could not. Her juices freshened at her helplessness. Slowly Phillip’s fingers moved in and out then up over her clit, toying with her. She squirmed in her bindings, and he appreciated the dance she did for him.

She was almost ready. Phillip pulled his finger out of her panties and listened to her frustrated groan. Bringing his hand up to her face, he told her, “Open your eyes and look at me slave.” She did and he could see them heavy with her lust. “Suck your juices from my fingers.” Obediently, she opened her mouth and he put his fingers inside. She sucked them, wishing it was his cock she had in her mouth. And his come instead of her own salty juices.

He could feel her readiness—but now it was time for her to learn the second of the two words he had told her earlier. She learned “obedience” fairly well—with the exception of breakfast. Now was the time to learn “discipline.” He pulled his fingers from her and stepped back, admiring her in those stockings and bra—caged and helpless.

“Now, my slave, I will leave you.” He paused at the sound of protest that came from her, but saw her swallow hard, willing herself silent. “You did not eat this morning as you were told—that may be a limit for you or it may not, we shall see. But the fact remains that you did not do as you were told. And so this shall be your disciplining. You will stay there, caged, tied, helpless. Wanting to come, and being denied, until I feel you understand what the word ‘discipline’ means and why you are getting it.”

With that, Sarah was forced to watch him walk to the door in the fading light of the room, turn for one, long appreciative glance at her, and then leave the room, shutting the door behind him.

This time she could not hold in her cry—”Master! NO! Please! Don’t leave me like this. I’ll do it—I promise, next time—oh, please, MASTER!” She pulled on her bonds, trying to get loose, trying to get relief that would not come.

Phillip stood on the other side of the door, listening intently to Sarah’s yells. She was pleading, begging with him, but she was not panicking. That was his biggest concern. She’d done well when left ‘alone’ the week before, but the circumstances this time were much different. Today, he had deliberately tied her in such a way that she would become uncomfortable quite quickly.

But he needed her to take the time to think—and to break down the walls she had spent so many years building. Only when her shouting quieted did he leave the door, circling around to watch her from the porch once more. The sight of her framed by the double border of the window and the cage, aroused him again. Yet he denied himself, knowing he needed to be alert to any changes in her predicament. Instead, he pulled up a stool and satisfied himself with just watching.

Obedience and Discipline. The words took on importance in Sarah’s thoughts when it became obvious Phillip wasn’t going to return just because she yelled at him to. She could not help but think of the words as if they were written in big capital letters—he might as well have painted them on the back of the door. Obedience and Discipline. This was all about the fact that she hadn’t eaten that stupid breakfast. In frustration, she pulled at her bindings again, her face twisting with the effort.

“Blast it!” she muttered, reviewing her actions that morning. Was it such a big deal that he’d asked her to take her meal from his leavings? He’d been respectful enough of her to separate what he didn’t intend to eat from what he did. And really, he hadn’t eaten as much as he usually did. Phillip had deliberately left her the lion’s share of the food. And what had she done? Thrown it in the garbage.

She felt the tears welling inside her. She’d disappointed him. That was the problem. He’d asked her, commanded her to do something simple and she’d refused. When she’d admitted earlier that she hadn’t eaten the food, she’d seen the look in his eyes—the sadness.

Her thoughts went back to their first weekend together—was it only a week ago? He had explained a bit about what he was looking for in a slave. She thought she’d understood, but realized now, that her definition of the word did not go far enough. She also thought she’d understood the word ‘Obedience’ and realized that definition did not go far enough either. What he wanted was total compliance on her part—a total submission of her own will to his.

And she wanted to give it to him. She stopped squirming as the realization came home. Never had he said it would be easy—he said they’d test her limits. With a start, she realized she understood what ‘Discipline’ was as well. This time in the cage was again a test—it gave her time to think about her ‘disobedience’ and put it in perspective. He was, in effect, ‘disciplining’ her mind to accept or reject his commands.

Sarah swallowed hard, the need to come vanishing. After years of unexciting sex with her husband, Phillip offered her a whole new lifestyle. He was prepared to give her the bondage her innermost being always wanted, but had been afraid to admit to, even to herself. What he asked in return, was her obedience when she was in his house. Could she discipline herself to accept his demands? In her heart, she already knew the answer: Yes, she wanted to be his slave—to do what she was told to do. Hanging her head, she prepared to wait out the rest of her time in the cage.

Time lost meaning for her and she didn’t know if she’d been there ten minutes or twenty. Or an hour—it was irrelevant. All she wanted now was a chance to show him how sorry she was for her earlier behavior. She had disappointed him and the look in his eyes haunted her.

Tears spilled now as Sarah realized just how much she was falling in love with Phillip. He had touched a deeply hidden part of her, brought it into the light and shown her it was all right. It was okay that she wanted to have someone look after her—it was okay that she didn’t want to have to be the strong one every single moment. He was willing to let her relax and just exist—and for no other purpose than to be his slave and to please him.

The room had grown dark by the time he reentered. He had spent the entire time watching her; her tears almost made him give in and come to comfort her. In the long run, however, it was right that he not interrupt her thinking. When she hung there, spent from her own emotional turmoil, he returned, knowing she had reached a decision. Without turning on a light, he untied her legs, grateful to see her put her own weight on them. He pushed the stool over and undid her arms and she let them fall to her sides. In a few moments they would start to tingle as feeling came back into them. Phillip unlocked the cage and opened the door.

Sarah stepped out on unsteady legs and knelt in front of him, her stockings and garters twisted from her gyrations in the cage, her bra with two small white spots where her juices had dried over her nipples, her face lined with the salty remains of her tears. She attempted to put her hands behind her, but the lack of feeling in them prevented her. Instead, she just let them hang at her sides.

“I’m sorry, Master. I am sorry I disappointed you. Please let me try again.”

“Then come with me, slave.” It took all his will to not bend down and kiss her, to pick her up in his arms and carry her to a place of honor at the table. Of her own volition, she had given him his title! But he knew he had to remain strong and let her carry out her need to prove herself. Clenching his fists so he would not caress her, he turned on his heel and walked through the door.

Unsteadily, she stood and followed him. The table was set for one as she expected it to be. “Kneel in your place, slave,” he instructed as he went to get his own dinner—just a pre-made salad tonight; he had been too concerned with her welfare to take time to cook. He had thought to have her carry it to the table and serve him, but she was too spent.

Meekly and without a word, Sarah knelt beside his chair. Leaning back on her heels, her hands resting on her knees, she tried to keep herself from moving. It didn’t take him long to finish his salad and when he stood, he looked at her and gave her the command she’d been expecting. “You may eat from my plate, slave, then put the dishes in the sink. Do not wash them—come to me when you are finished.”

He left the dining room and she bowed her head. Was she allowed to sit while she ate? Or did he expect her to eat while she knelt on the floor? Too tired to try and figure it out, she stood then sat at her spot—or what had been her spot—at the table. She pulled his plate to her and saw that he’d set utensils for her. Touched by his thoughtfulness and picking up the fork, she hungrily ate the remains of the substantial salad and drank the fresh glass of water left at her own place.

Taking the dishes to the sink, she let them sit and went to find him. Again he was on the couch in the living room, reading by the light of a single lamp. Exhausted, she started to kneel before him, but he patted the couch next to him and she gratefully sat down and rested in his arms.

“Tell me what you have learned today, my slave.” The warmth and tenderness in his touch and in his voice caused the tears to well in her eyes again.

“I have learned that I want to serve you, Master. I want to be your slave and do as you order me. I have learned what “obedience” is—true obedience, that is.”

When she fell silent, he prompted her. “And what is the difference between ‘obedience’ and ‘true obedience’?”

“Obedience is doing something because you have to do it—because someone told you to and you know it has to be done. But ‘true obedience’ is doing it because you want to please the other person. When it’s true, your own feelings don’t matter—you want to obey just to make the other person smile.”

She looked at him and he couldn’t resist—he smiled at her and was rewarded by a smile of her own. He kissed her on the forehead. “And what else has my slave learned today?”

“I have learned what discipline is—and that it isn’t always unpleasant.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and she explained. “You wanted me to think about what I had done—or hadn’t done, rather. By building, then denying my need and leaving me alone like that, I had little else to do but think about it. You focused my mind very well.” A wry grin twisted her tired face and she continued.

“I didn’t like it at first, but after a while I realized it wasn’t so bad—and I realized something else, too.” She hesitated then plunged on. “I discovered that the orgasm was only the icing on the cake. It had always, for me, been the be-all and end-all of sex. The only reason to have sex was to get to the release. But the buildup can be just as much fun. I never understood that before.” She twisted around to look at him. “See how much I have learned…Master?”

The title came from the depths of her own heart; he knew she bestowed it willingly upon him. He had earned her trust. For answer, Phillip kissed her deeply. “Yes, slave, you have learned a great deal. But there is something to be said for that release.” He guided her hand down to his cock and she felt his hardness. She giggled.

“Come with me to the bedroom, slave, and let’s get both our needs taken care of, shall we?”

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom, stopping at the foot of the bed to kiss her deeply. She had pleased him with her revelations—and he knew he had made the right choice in her. Willing to explore her submissive side, willing to accept his discipline, she was exactly what he’d been looking for. In the darkness of the bedroom, lit only by a shaft of moonlight streaming through the open window, he held on to the woman of his dreams.

There were no bindings as he took her tonight—Sarah gave herself completely. Phillip accepted her gift, cherishing it, giving himself in return. They made love for hours, exploring every part of the other. And when at last he mounted her and they rode together, their mutual bliss united them once more.

* * * * *

Later, when again they lay in a jumble of legs and arms, Sarah couldn’t help but remark, “I can’t believe I still have another whole day before I go back to work. It seems like today lasted forever!”

He idly played with a strand of her hair. “Is that a good thing?”

She picked up her head to look at him. “Oh, yes, Sir! It is a very good thing.” She nestled down again. “Do I dare ask what you have planned for tomorrow?”

He smoothed her hair and decided just how much he’d share ahead of time. “Well, in the morning, I usually attend church services, and I’d like you to go with me. But in this, I will not command you.”

“I usually go to church on Sunday as well, Sir, but I did not go last week,” she confessed.

“So you will accompany me?”

She nodded, glad to discover his spirituality was important to him.

 “Then afterward, we will return here and you shall continue your training.”

“Mmmm, my training.” She sighed. “Why does that send a thrill through me? Don’t answer, that was a rhetorical question.”

Smiling in the darkness, Phillip reached down and pulled the coverlet over them and snuggled her into his arms. It may have been a long day, but it had been a very, very good one. Before long, they both slept, comfortable in each other’s arms.