On the train to my parent's house, Master told me that he was looking forward to dominating me over the weekend. I must have looked at him with a puzzled expression, because he smirked and looked out the window. I tried to imagine how my Master could tie me up much less spank me while we were staying at my parents' house.

"Well, maybe if we went to bed early and requested the bedroom the farthest from Mom and Dad's..." I thought to myself. I still thought that it would be incredibly dicey on the first meeting between my Master (known to Mom and Dad as my "boyfriend") and my very nosy parents. "Perhaps Master and I could sponsor a night out for Mom and Dad and he could dominate me then," I thought. That thought was spoiled by the reality that my Master was never one to dom on a schedule. His belief was anytime and everytime was the right time to put me in my place.

I didn't know how I could possibly tell my Master who had worked so hard to train me to be his fucktoy, his puppy, his slut that we would have to take a break this weekend. Having Mom or Dad walk in on one of our sessions would be a disaster for all involved.

I looked over at my Master, who, to my surprise, was looking back at me.

"What's the matter, Baby?" he asked me, his smile melting my heart.

"Well. Sir," I began.

He stared into my eyes trying to read my thoughts.

"I just don't know HOW you are going to dominate me this weekend. My parents--"

"You don't have to worry about it, pet. I can dominate you without making any noise." He leaned into my ear. "We're going to have a lot of fun." He smiled. I believed him, like always.

***

That first night my folks left us alone after the introductions and after dinner. Master and I settled into our room. After I had unpacked for us, Master called me over to him. He told me to sit as his feet because he wanted to have a talk with me. I sat where he commanded and felt the familiar comfort I feel when I am placed in my proper position as Master's slut. I took a deep breath and waited for him to speak.

"I'm disappointed in you, krys. Do you have so little faith in me? I would never embarrass your parents by demonstrating to them publicly that their daughter is my fucktoy. How could you think I would do that?"

His voice was soft, but every word cut.

"Sir, I--"

"I told you I was looking forward to dominating you, but I think you need a clear reminder that you need to trust me and of who you are. You do need to be punished. Get me the nipple clamps. You can wear them in timeout...for a start."

I looked up into his face with alarm.

“I didn’t bring them, Sir,” I said.

“And why is that?”

“I didn’t think—“

“No you did NOT think, krys. Well,” he sighed, “you need to figure out how to fix this.”

I wondered if my mother had any clothespins in the basement or any clips of any kind in the house.

“I will find something, Master,” I said and set off to find suitable substitutes for the clamps.

“Good girl. And if you are going by the kitchen, bring me some hot sauce and a small dish of ice cream.”

My heart started racing. Master had used hot sauce on my tongue when I used a curse word he did not allow and one other time. I knew I was in big trouble although his face did not seem to betray his displeasure with me.

I nodded to my Master and rushed downstairs.

I could hear my mom and dad watching TV in the living room, which I would have to cross to get to the laundry room. I hadn’t brought with me anything to launder, however, so going into that room would make no sense to them. I certainly couldn’t tell them I needed clothespins, unless—

I asked mom if she had any and thankfully she did. She got two for me and only asked why I should need them when I was almost out of the room.

“Oh, I got the sleeve of my blouse wet when I was drawing a bath. I just wanted to hang it up in the bathroom. No biggie. Thanks a lot, Mom. Goodnight!” (Never mind that I hadn’t run any bath and never mind that I was still wearing the same clothes I had traveled in). Mom seemed to accept my story and I made my way to the kitchen. I made as little noise as possible as I scooped the ice cream and found the mini bottle of hot sauce and slipped it into my pocket. Not wanting to make Master wait any longer, I walked back into the bedroom and closed the door.

“Show me,” was all he said.

I laid out the two clips, the hot sauce and the small bowl of ice cream.

“Hm…only two clips?” he asked and looked at me.

“I can get more?” I said weakly and he sighed.

“Strip and kneel,” he said and I did.

He asked me to look at him and he began to knead my breasts, one and then the other. He pulled at the nipples until they were hard and firm. He attached the clothespins and told me to stand in the corner until he told me to come out. I did as I was told.

I stood there a long time.

Finally, Master came over to me and asked me whose tits were clipped.

“They are yours to use, Master.”

He grasped my ass cheek and squeezed it. “And whose ass is this, krystenah?”

“It is yours, Master.”

In his hand was the hot sauce.

“This is going inside here,” he said, touching the outside of his slave’s pussy and here, and he touched the asshole he controls.

“And do you know why?” He asked me.

I shook my head, sadly and guessed, “as punishment, Sir?”

“That is partially correct. It is as punishment and also as a reminder that every part of you belongs to me. You are mine. To use, to play with, to punish. You don’t need to second guess me, pet. I hope this will help you remember to never do that again.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said with moist eyes.

He did as he promised and when he deemed the appropriate time had passed, he fed me ice cream and finger fucked his slave’s asshole with sticky ice cream fingers. He removed the clips and kissed his slave’s sore nipples.

I could sense that he was aroused and I asked permission to suck his cock.

“Do you think you deserve it, Slut?”

“No, Sir, but can I do it anyway?”

We moved to the bed and I got under the covers and took his thick hard cock into my mouth as deeply and I could. I sucked and slathered it with my mouth. I moaned with pleasure as he thrust his hard-on deeper into my throat and I massaged his balls, grateful for the opportunity to serve him in this way.

And wouldn’t you know that my mother took that very moment to knock on the door to say good night? He answered her without missing a beat. I called goodnight from under the sheets and forgot to worry if she thought anything was amiss. I was serving my Master. That was the only thing that mattered to me.