The Adult Story Hub

This work Copyright (C) 2001, by Caitlain McCarren. I reserve all rights of distribution not otherwise expressly granted herein. Should you like my works and wish to add my story to your collection, you are at liberty to do so for personal use as proscribed by the Berne Convention and U. S. Copyright law pertaining to fair use. In addition, electronic distribution is allowed through BBS or the Internet as long as the text retains my by-line, copyright data, and signature, and no fee for this transmission is charged or required by the transmitter. Transmission or distribution by all other modes; print, duplication to optical or magnetic media, and such other modes as may be currently or ultimately provided, are expressly forbidden. I, Caitlain McCarren, retain all rights to such transmission. In addition, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to or association with persons living or dead is coincidental. I describe situations, which without proper care could cause bodily harm or injury. Fiction is best left as such. Don't attempt any of what is described herein without providing utmost care and consideration before the fact. To close, this story, while work of fiction, describes adult situations. If you are not yet of the age of majority, or if accessing, reading, possessing, or distributing material of this nature is illegal in your community; or if such material offends you, I invite you to leave now, before you begin.

"Mistress," I cried, "this is terribly uncomfortable."
"Yes dear, I know."
"Mistress, could these be loosened," Iasked?
"No."
"It hurts, Mistress," I said.
"I know it hurts, wench, it's supposed to. Do quiet down, lest you make it neccessary to gag you."
I let an uncomfortable period wind out, squirming in my bonds, and exclaimed, "Mistress, this really hurts a lot."
"Shut the fuck up, wench, you serve me best when you are silent."
"But it, ow!"
"If you speak out of turn again you will force me to gag you and beat you. Are you new?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Thank you, Mistress."
"There are some rules you are to follow while in my presence. The first and foremost is, SILENCE, wench. Do not speak unless neccessary. Usually this means don't speak unless posed an interrogative. It is sometimes allowed to speak if you are in imminent danger of bodily injury. Exception occurs when I placed you in danger of bodily injury, and you all ready have my full attention."
"Speaking is discouraged because it indicates that you have some ability to change what is, or what is to be. You do not. It is that simple. Do you understand, wench."
"Yes, Mistress. I understand, Mistress. I'm not to speak, Mistress," I babbled.
"Good, short sentences, clearly defined answers, one would do well to answer in just that fashion."
After what seemed another interminable period of unknown time, I blurted out, "Mistress, when may I be released from my bonds?"
"Good grief, you are insufferable. That last utterance will cost you the bite of the whip. Do not vex me so. You will be released when I release you, no sooner."
"Yes, Mistress," I complain, "but this bondage pains me so. Could it not be loosened somewhat?"
"That utterance will cost you eleven more bites of the whip, wench. You seem to be stupid. Were you captured or did you submit?"
"I was captured, Mistress," I said. "Could you release me please?"
"No. The fact that you were captured bought you this last bit of sympathy from me, but, I warn you, vex me not again. You are to remain silent until such time as I tell you different. You are a slave. Here you have no control over anything but your submission. The rules of submission are few, and in addition to the aforementioned injunction of speaking, include total submission. You must yield to me in all things I don't specify overtly. Simply, this means you must ask my permission to do anything, anything at all."
"Next, it is expected that you will obey any command I give you, and anything I say is a command, wench."
"Last, it is expected that you will comply with my wishes and directives. That is to say, it is expected that you will accede, acquiesce, agree, concede, conform, follow, or to otherwise observe any thought I may speak or any command I may voice, immediately, without hesitation, exactly, to the best of your limited ability."
"I now give you liberty to answer two questions. Consider well your answers before you utter them, lest you cause me to beat you mercilessly. First do you understand these rules, silence, submit, obey, and comply? The answer had better be yes."
"Yes, Mistress," I answer, complying.
"Better, wench. Follow the rules and hopefully there will be little need for what I'm about to do. You have left me no choice, I must punish you for your ill considered outbursts. Back up to the wall and place your hands upon it, palms flat but reaching as high up the wall as possible."
I backed up and positioned myself as she requested, jockeying momentarily, for a good purchase upon the wall and upon the floor. I knew I would need the bracing.
"Well done, wench. I see an explanation of the rules has taken hold in that inscrutable little brain. Trust that you and I will unlock all the miniscule thoughts and fantasies which inhabit those small lobes. I'm sure we will unlock the wide expanse of the pleasures of pain for you. We shall start immediately. You are to keep silent while I administer your punishment. Not a peep, or I'll administer the full twelve and twelve more, then we'll start over. Look up at me, I want to see your expressions of pain and horror."
The pain was excruciating. The first two landed over my shoulders. The third struck at my stomach between my rib cage and my navel, biting viciously and knocking the wind out of me. The next two wrapped around me and struck at both of my bare buttocks, both high and low, exciting my sex and my nipples, which hardened tight and high. The sixth struck at the backs of my thighs. The seventh at the backs of my knees, causing me to falter and spread them wide. The bitch took the opportunity to strike, painfully, at the insides of my thighs, first left side then right. But, I did not move my feet or hands. I was flushed red, pained more deeply than I had ever known, helpless as was possible to be, and as deeply excited as I had been with my best sexual partner. She paused long enough for me to right myself, as best I could, and look back up at her. Then in quick succession came the last of the blows, one on each nipple, right then left, and down my stomach from waist to sex, seemingly disemboweling me, and sending me plunging to the floor suffering wave after wave of crashing pain and pleasure.
She waited patiently, until the sensations died back, and she could at last be heard over the din of the blood coursing to my head and through my ears. The next thing I heard froze me with fear. "I didn't say you could come, you stupid bitch."
I couldn't think or move. If I thought my head was pounding before, I was positively rattling the china in the cabinet of my dementia, now. It brought back all the pain, and, all the crashing pleasure, wave after wave. I desperately wanted it to stop, but it wouldn't let up. I was desperately afraid the mistress expected a repeat performance, and I knew I couldn't live through it, but, it wouldn't stop washing over me, wave after wave after...
When I came to my senses she was standing over me, kicking me in the ribs, adding insult to injury. "Back to the real world, cunt?"
"Stand up!"
I struggled mightily to comply but fell twice, striking my head once upon the hardwood floor. She assisted me by grabbing my bound wrists in one hand, my bound elbows in the other, and twisting the former under the latter until they rolled under and up my back where she bound them to my neck, leaving me helpless and in excruciating pain. I couldn't help myself, I yelped, and winced at having heard my own voice.
"A poor but marginally acceptable performance, wench. Of course you will be punished for coming without permission, twice. You also failed this test, which means twelve more strokes, and a repeat of this exercise. To impress upon you the gravity of breaking the rules you will spend three days standing upright in my presence in posture training equipment."
"It may be possible to mitigate this transgression of the rule of submission. We will play a game, these are the rules. I will ask a question. Answer well and as long as you remain silent, post, we will set aside this correction, speaking will immediately reinstate it. Answer poorly and we will double the terms of the correction and exercise it immediately. I still expect you will follow the rules from now on."
"Nod your head up and down if you understand the terms of our little game."
I nodded affirmatively.
"You may of course simply take the punishment as stated and we will follow up with an immediate correction, no need to gamble at all. However, if you should fail the terms of your correction I shudder to think what my fertile mind may come up with to punish you further. Simply nod your head up and down if you care to play. Roll your head side to side if you do not."
I didn't know what to indicate. One choice, three possible outcomes, none of which pleased me in the least. "Come, come, now, my dear. This delay borders on a transgression of the rule of compliance." I chose to gamble. Monty Hall, she was not. I indicated my choice by nodding, hopelessly.
"Very well. Now the question. Have you a name dear and what is it?"
I hesitated again and she flicked the whip, catching me under the left breast. I bit my lip and did not cry out. A moment later I blurted out, risking her wrath, "Mistress, I seek clarification. Would it be acceptable to answer your question with a question?
"Intriguing! All right, because you are new and because I sense guile I would punish anyway, you may answer with a question. Try me not. This better be worth the effort for your sake."
"Mistress, would you like me to have a name and if so what would it be?"
"Well done! You have indeed answered well. Remember keep silent from now on and don't think yourself too clever. You have one credit brought about by fear, necessity, and obligation. Do not test the waters of your lesser position again. You may not be so clever or lucky next time."
"By the way, deary, if you did once have a name keep it to yourself. Better to forget it entirely, if you can. You will have no need for a name here at all. Forget your name and any life you thought you had outside of this room, lest you force me to erase it entirely. Soon enough your old identity will be subsumed by the new one we will create together."

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