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by lizsubintampa

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© Copyright 2021 - lizsubintampa - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; fpov; bond; rope; chain; gag; oral; anal; tease; collar; toys; crop; hum; cons; XX

Continues from

Part 3

Sunday morning I actually woke up early and with Nick still sleeping I quietly crept out of bed and went to the guest room so I could take a shower without disturbing him and, not knowing what plans he had (for me), I put my sweat pants on again and a tee but stayed barefoot as I made my way to the kitchen.

While the coffee was brewing I made some toast (I’m not a big breakfast person) and as I was pouring a cup for myself I heard Nick taking a shower but not knowing what he would like for breakfast I just put a cup next to the brewer for him.

On a few of the shelves he has some books and magazines but I only wanted to sit and look out the window. It was a breezy morning and, from the weather report on the radio, it was only 52° so staying inside was all I wanted to do.

By the time Nick came to the kitchen I was on my second cup and while he was making himself bacon and eggs we talked about my feelings from yesterday and I told him that on one hand I loved what he did to me, I loved “being a puppy,” but there were too many times that I didn’t, like when I was in the crate and especially when I had to, you know, do my “business” outside. And, while I did love being and treated like a pet it was not as great as I imagined it would be and it was not something I wanted to repeat right away. Maybe in the future but not right away.

He was very understanding and told me that he was very happy with me as his pet and if in the future I wanted to do it again he would be more than happy to help me. In fact, he said, he loved me so much as a pet he would figure out how to keep me like that for two or three days, with my permission of course.

Two or three days? I wasn’t even sure about one more day let alone two or three but I did tell him I would think about it. In the back of my mind I thought that maybe I wouldn’t want to try pet play again but, as happens sometimes, things change…

Nick then told me that when I was ready he wanted me to get dressed and meet him in the living room. Naturally he didn’t give me any hint about what he was planning so after I rinsed out my cup I went to the bedroom to get dressed.

I had brought with me a few blouses, skirts and a dress and, of course, several pairs of stockings, bras and panties and my heels (3” and 4”). Since this was my last day at Nick’s I decided to wear the 4” heels and after locking them on I went to the living room.

He was on the couch when I came in and he told me how lovely I looked and, after standing, he took me in his arms and kissed me. Damn he kisses really good and I just melt in his arms and get all excited when he kisses and fondles me like that.

I was already breathing rather heavily but before he would go any further he asked me for the keys (to my heels) and told me to come to the playroom with him. However, before leaving the house we stopped at the door and, reaching for a collar, he put it on me and locked it. Then he took a leash from the hook, attached it to my collar, and, after a gentle tug, led me to the playroom.

As I said, it was a chilly morning so I was glad I was dressed and that we didn’t stay outside very long.

In the playroom he brought me over to the winch and after locking leather cuffs on my wrists he locked a short chain to them and then lifted them and put the chain over the winch’s hook. My arms were only slightly above my head so I was still very comfortable. However, I was breathing rather heavily and could feel my nipples and pussy becoming hard and wet. Standing in front of me he leaned down and with his hands on my breasts grabbed my nipples (through my blouse and bra), kissed me, and as I was squirming he put his leg between my thighs and (allowed) me to rub myself against him. With his tongue still in my mouth I was moaning and I was, well, I was “in heat.”

When he stopped kissing and fondling me he stepped away, laughed, and once again told me what a good girl I am. My response was very simple, “if I am such a good girl the least you could do is “f__k” me.

“You never seem to have enough patience, pet,” he said, followed by “open wide” and as soon as I did he put a rather large ring gag in my mouth, buckled it tight, and, moving his hands over my breasts and ass had me wriggling, grunting and trying my best to tell him please don’t stop. Of course nothing I said could be understood but it was, you know, understood and all that got me was a quick slap on my ass and a firm instruction to “stand still.”

At that moment my brain took over and convinced me not to disobey so as I turned and watched him go to the wall, I stood there being “a good girl.”

From the wall he brought back a spreader bar, 3 feet long I think, and using its straps attached each end to my ankles so that my legs were spread quite far (especially for someone as short as I am) and once they were spread my skirt, which was fairly tight, rose up to just past my upper thighs and without even trying to look I knew my garters and stocking tops were showing and maybe even my panties. I had no problem keeping my balance using my hands to keep me steady and, I thought, at least I was giving him a show that, hopefully, would make him horny enough to “f” me.

For his next “trick” he walked away from me and I heard the chain being used and very slowly he raised my hands up so that when he stopped I was (almost) suspended but not quite. My toes were on the floor but not my heels and despite my trying to keep still I couldn’t keep my toes in place and began to sort of rotate. To me it was like the floor was very slippery but it wasn’t. I just wasn’t able to keep enough of my weight on my toes to stop me from (slightly) rotating. I was also, as usual, drooling quite heavily and I knew my blouse and very likely my skirt and probably the floor was getting very wet. But not as much as (I knew my pussy was getting wet).

Now standing in front of me again he leaned over and while kissing and licking my forehead, cheeks, ears and neck (damn I loved him doing that) he unbuttoned my blouse, pulled my bra up and then sucked on my nipples until I was sure they were as large and hard and they could ever be. I squirmed as much as I could, not caring if I could keep my toes on the floor or not, and moaned, uselessly, as he kept playing with them. After he was finished sucking them he used his fingers to squeeze and twist them until I shouted out in pain (yes, a very guttural sounding shout) and when he stopped and let me calm down a little he put the first clamp on my nipple (the one with those awful serrated teeth) and all I could do was jump and shriek in pain. It was more than awful, it was pure torture and he knew it and laughing he watched me dance and cry in pain.

Stepping up to me he put his arm around me (just below my underarms) and, holding me very tight, put the next one on my other nipple. The pain was excruciating and seemed to rush down directly to my pussy.

Once again the agony was more than I thought I could handle but at the same time I was so physically aroused I didn’t give a damn about the pain, my drooling, the horribly intense torture or the fact that I didn’t want him to stop torturing me. I needed him and wanted him. I was off in my sub-space place and didn’t give a damn about anything else.

Of course he still had other ideas for me and while I was shouting and wailing and almost hanging from my wrists I felt the first stroke of the crop on my ass. I practically leaped off the ground and when the next stroke came I was totally lost in my pain and in “my need” for more.

It wasn’t until he hit me with several more (and I have no idea how many more strokes he gave me) that he stopped and let me literally hang from my wrists. Breathing very heavily I finally recovered enough to (try) to thank him; this should give you an idea of how far I have come as a “pain slut.”

The worst though was yet to come because, when he lowered my hands a little and stepped in front of me he leaned forward, covered my open sopping wet mouth with his, and took off the clamps, one at a time and the violence of my reaction was so extreme I thought I would die from the pain.

After the pain finally subsided so that I was able to only moan and grunt from the burning of my nipples he lowered my hands so that I was now able to bend low enough so that my mouth was now level with his slowly being lowered zipper. I couldn’t believe he was going to do that to me while I was in such agony but, again, I needed him to treat me that way and once his cock was out (and quite hard) he pulled me to him and as he slowly pushed himself through the ring I started to gag a little but anxiously tried to suck him too. The ring gag did not let me “suck” him but it did let him “use me” and as he began pumping I could feel him getting ready to come and when he did he held my face so that I was forced to try to swallow as much as I could while at the same time I could feel his (come) seeping out of my mouth, onto my chin, and who knows what else it was covering.

Pulling out of me he helped me to stand up and, after undoing my wrists from the winch, grabbed my arm and with my legs still spread open dragged me to the table near one of the walls and pushed me down on it. My nipples were crushed and the pain came back but before I could try to stand he was on the other side of the table and put a rope through the chain connecting my wrist cuffs and tied it, somewhere, under the table so that I could not stand up.

I was on my naked nipples, and they were still hurting, my legs were wide open, I was drooling like a river, and when he came back to the other side of the table he made everything worse by “gently” patted my ass, brushing his hand over my pussy and leaving me.

I don’t know if he was standing near me or sitting down in a chair, all I knew was that I was aching to be touched and I needed to come, to climax, to orgasm or whatever else you want to call it.

My words were garbled, I was trying to scream obscenities at him, to beg him not to leave me but there was nothing, only silence. I couldn’t even hear him breathing. Was he still in the (playroom)? Did he abandon me? I needed him and all I could do was wiggle my ass and hurt my nipples every time I did that and, if that wasn’t enough, my humiliation was growing by leaps and bounds because with my mouth still held open by the gag my face was soaked by my slobbering.

Still in pain, but not nearly as much as when he dragged me to the table, I heard him coming back to me and when I felt him touch my cheeks I reacted (almost) passionately. Oh yes, please touch me, yes, please (of course, again, it was just a garbled plea) but I wanted him to know that I needed him inside me.

When I felt his cold lubed fingers go in my ass I knew what was next and despite the fact I am not a fan of anal sex I didn’t care, I wiggled in delight and as he entered me I pushed back. He is (as I think I said before) quite big (to me) and as he slid in and began to ram my ass I (actually) loved it and as he went faster and faster I thought I was getting closer and closer but as he “exploded” he held me so tight I could hardly move and when he pulled out I was left dangling. I didn’t “come” and I was crying, again, for him not to stop. But a few quick, sharp, slaps made me realize I was nothing more than his play thing, I existed for his pleasure, not mine and although I hated him for doing that I loved being treated like that. My emotions were going like I was on a roller coaster. Crying, loving, hating, needing, desperate, happy…

A few minutes later (at least I thought it was a few minutes later) he was standing in front of me and, wearing a condom, he told he had cleaned his cock then grabbed my hair, pulled my head up so my mouth was off the table and put it inside my mouth and, in just a couple of minutes, he came again…is his cock always stiff or what?

Finally, he untied my wrists and went around the table and unlocked my ankles and helped me bring my legs together and, believe me, without his help I might still be leaning over the table to this day…

Then, when I was standing he took the gag out of my mouth and even though I tried to stop the drool from following the gag I couldn’t and it just flowed down my chest.

Holding me, he was moving his hands gently up and down my back when he said, “You are such a good girl. We really have to do this again sometime.”

“Do this again sometime? What about me? That’s it, you get off and I’m left hanging?

“Yes, pet. Now, unless you want to be paddled I want you to go and pack your bag and meet me in the living room and don’t you dare touch yourself, do not clean yourself in any way, do not change your clothes and you do not have my permission to come. Do you understand, pet?”

In my mind I am screaming, permission? I need permission? No, I need to come, now!

But I kept my tongue in my mouth and the only word I muttered was, “yes.”

He then turned me towards the door, gave me a fairly gentle push to get me started and, like a good little girl that was just chastised for not finishing her dinner or something like that, I walked, rather unsteadily, out of the playroom and went to pack my bag.

I was not a happy camper but at the same time I was telling myself, actually trying to convince myself, that he was just tormenting me and that he was going to “f” me when I went to the living room.

Fuming, I packed but since he had the keys for my heels I couldn’t take them off so I carried my sneakers with me. I also didn’t have the key for my collar, he would have to unlock that too.

While I was trying to adjust myself, that is, pushing my bra down over my horribly painful nipples and then trying to button my soaked blouse and pushing my skirt down (and when did I tear my stockings?) I again thought he was only taunting me and that he would “do me” and even though it was now mid-afternoon and I did have to go home, he would “take care of me” before I left.

So, still sore I kind of waddled from the bedroom and with a big grin on his face he stood up, took me in his arms and with his hands caressed me. He didn’t kiss me (that didn’t surprise me because my face was, you know, covered with his dry semen) but he did move his hands over my body and I was becoming very excited.

“Stand still while I take your shoes off and then you can put your sneakers on.”

Okay, I thought, take them off and then take me.

“I know it’s getting late so here are your car keys, call me when you get home so I know you got okay.”

“What, you’re kicking me out? That’s it, nothing else? That’s it, call you when I get home?

“Yes, pet, that’s it, you disobeyed several times and you cursed me a lot. Did you think you weren’t going to be punished for that?”

“You did punish me, you spanked me, you whipped me, you tortured my nipples, you put me in a cage, you tortured my body!”

“Pet, I enjoyed doing those things to you, they were not punishments, they were for my pleasure. Sending you home now is just your first punishment for this weekend. I’ll deal with you the next time I see you. Now go home.”


“Is there something important you want to tell me?”

“But what about the collar, you didn’t take it off.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, you can keep it as my gift to you” (grinning like a mad Cheshire cat!).

“Ah, you know I can’t keep it on, I do have to go to work, if you don’t unlock it I’ll have to cut it off.”

“Go home and I’ll let you know where the key is.”

Taking my arm he escorted me to my car, put my bag in the trunk, and when I started the car and opened the window he put the back of his hand on my cheek and said, “You are such a good girl. Drive carefully.”

I watched him go into the house, pulled out of the driveway, cursing him for the next 20 minutes or so, looked at my face in the mirror, ugh!, it was not pretty, absentmindedly touched my nipple, and very quickly thought better of that, arrived home in about an hour and half, stripped, took a shower, very carefully washed my nipples, but not as carefully washed my pussy. No, I didn’t finish washing my pussy for almost half an hour and, although I was still hurting, still feeling humiliated, and wondering just how far I was willing to go down the rabbit hole, I was, as I wrapped myself in my robe, smiling.


I wasn’t able to see Nick again until August and at a future date I will tell you about our meeting. Also, as we had both set aside the dates for Fetish Con (which was cancelled for 2012 due to the Covid-19 virus) we took the opportunity to meet with Anne and Frank too.

Lastly, as I always tell you, my stories are true and although I may leave a few things out I do write the conversations as best as I can recall, I try my best and hope you enjoy them.

In the meantime, it is now the New Year, 2022, and I hope you all are safe, healthy and have a wonderful year and, most importantly, thank you for taking the time to read my stories.

PS – Later that evening Nick sent me a text, the key for the collar was under the rug in the trunk of my car (you know, the one that covers the spare tire). I wish he would have told me sooner because I had already searched my bag, purse and the inside of the car several times. Grrr.


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