AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I made an error when cashing up for the night and he called me into his back office. Gave me a serious dressing down, as if I had committed some terrible crime. Then sacked me on the spot. I was horrified, my first job and I was fired. So I begged him and he agreed that if I let him spank me then I could keep my job. I was shocked, silly innocent me. Though you can guess that I was secretly aroused by the offer, somewhere in my sexual awakening I had had fantasies about being spanked perhaps. Forgotten memories re-emerged. So I let him do it to me, bent over his desk with all my clothes still on. It was not hard but yep I was aroused and the pain accentuated the sensation.
“It grew from there. The linking of humiliation or pain to my sexual arousal. He trained me to react instinctively and not try to analyse why I respond as I do. Sessions became more frequent, harder, fewer clothes!” I chuckled at my memories. “He built up the scenes really well, teaching me about humility and obedience, before introducing intercourse into the equation. It certainly weaned me off sex and made me behave as a service submissive. The relief from not having to think about how he would use me came later, with experience.”
I opened my eyes and Jason was staring at me, captivated by my memories.
“Go on,” his voice was husky.
“I had got a proper job three months later and resigned from his bookstore. He had suggested I came back to visit at weekends. Not to the shop, but his small house, all antique on the inside like his shop. No dungeon, he had things stashed around the house, like a magic shop. Every weekend I learnt something new. He took me through the complete range, never pushing me to my limits. He was strangely paternalistic, treated me like a schoolgirl in need of specialist education. Then the relationship was over. I think he wanted to train another novice, it was what he enjoyed doing best.”
“Do you stay in contact with him?” A hint of jealousy in Jason’s voice.
“No. He died a couple of years ago. Cancer. He told me before he died that he made up the cash register error. He recognised me for what I am from the moment he met me,” I bit my lip. “After that I had two more long standing masters. They were into fetishes. The first one liked rope work, tying me up and leaving me on display. The rope burn got too much and I left him for my clamp specialist. He really liked to deny me too.”
Jason was almost laughing aloud at the thought of his predecessors.
“I had enough of one trick horse,” I said. “So just moved about between different men. Some were odd weekdays, others the entire weekend not stop, very intense. Lots of cleaning floors in the nude for one guy, that’s all he wanted me to do for most of the time.”
“Oh, hence your question. Good grief you have had variety,” he chuckled.
“None of them were too extreme though. I never felt fear or threatened by them. Whether that was down to luck, I don’t know… Until him. He was different… He, he caught me conventionally with straight sex.” My voice started to break. I did not want to remember him and taint my relationship with Jason as he had captured me vanilla style too.
“Enough, Gemma. No more recollections,” Jason took my hand and pressed it against his stiffening cock. “You need to serve me now. I am your master. Remember that. You are my slutty girl. My collection of fuck holes.”
The demanding Jason was back. “So be a good girl and assume the position.”
“Yes, sir,” I moved closer to him.
I loved his dirty talk.
Chapter 17
Another Sunday had come round and I was joining Jason on his golfing adventures. The weekend had past so far without incident, if you counted two sessions in his lair as an ordinary weekend. Recalling memories of my previous masters had inspired him to pick up on my comment about one horse tricks. He had used ropes, clamps and a good sensual spanking all in the first session. The next scene had been a total denial session, very hard, but he had rewarded me well when we retired to bed.
Orgasm denial was rather like masturbation, it took a great deal of self-discipline and distraction not to do the deed. The irony was not lost on me that I had been told not to orgasm by doms who had believed they were in control of my body. Even when Jason would tell me that my orgasms ‘were his’ I wanted to shout back ‘well you stop them coming then!’
Self-control was supposedly the skill of the dominant not the submissive. According to some doms, we were useless sluts who had no ability to hold back out sexual vices. Words often said with a grin of delight. Threatened and cajoled into holding our climaxes for their pleasure we were then required to release them at the right moment or on demand. A strangely perverse service, which I struggled to provide.
I had tried hard to master different distraction techniques, boring day-to-day thoughts, which were the equivalent of a bucket of cold water to my arousal. Alternatively, there were the useful approaches such as filling my mind with new ideas, work plans or what I should paint next. Much depended on what he was using to arouse me. Some things were virtually impossible to fight against – the Hitachi massager wand was one. Others like feathers tickling me incessantly or his lips sucking me depended on my mood. What did not especially work was the stick approach. Being told you would be spanked or disciplined in some way often made me want to come strongly. Jason was crafty and knew that my imagination would run wild if he started threatening me with implements.
“Do you want clothes pegs all over you, Gemma?” he would warn me.
“No, sir!” Yes! I mean!
“Ask me for it, Gemma. Ask me to do something in return for your coming,” he would tease me.
“Anything!” – Don’t say anything, shit too late.
The precipice of an impending orgasm was not a good time to ask me what I wanted. I really did not care as long as I got my orgasm. A mistake I would instantly regret once I came out of my quivering coital state.
Lying there, he would whisper in my ear. “You said anything, babe.”
“Oooo, did I, sir?” I would pretend I could not remember.
The last case of ‘anything’ helped me hold off the previous evening’s orgasm, much to his disappointment, he loved his anythings.
I applied lipstick in the bathroom mirror. Checking my skirt line was straight. The hem stopped just above my knees and I was wearing a set of pearl earrings and necklace. A ridiculously expensive present from Jason to congratulate me on my new job. I looked back in the mirror and Jason had appeared behind me, dressed in his golf gear. He sniffed me and reached his hand up my skirt, tugging on my thong.
“Off with these. No panties for you today,” he said with a huge grin.
