Maggie did her best not to squirm, but the tip of the crop traveling slowly down her spine sent terrified little thrills along her skin. She desperately wanted to move, but... Be still, She had told her, and so Maggie was still. Be silent, She had said, so Maggie made no sound above the nervous panting of her lungs. She flexed her arms and stood a bit higher on tip toe, an attempt to restore blood flow to her hands. She hated being like this, bound by her wrists to the hook on the rafter above, but she deserved it. She had been a bad slave.

Bad, bad slave...

The tip of the crop had reached her heart shaped bottom, almost lovingly outlining it's pretty curvature. Maggie felt her body tense in automatic response, expecting the pain to come. Nothing happened. The crop disappeared. She was left standing naked and stretched with her arms above her, vulnerable and exposed, untouched.

“Bad, bad slave...” the voice of her Mistress purred as She circled her, eyes dark with anger. The crop was gone, cast aside. Now She held a wooden paddle and used its tip to lift Her slave's chin, looking into her teary eyes. “Tell Me why you're on the hook.”

“Miss, please,” Maggie sniffled, pathetic thing that she was. Her limbs were starting to tremble. Her Mistress let her chin back down so she could keep her eyes on the floor where they belonged. “I'm on the hook because I've been bad. I disobeyed You, Miss.” Her head hung low, curling auburn hair veiling her view of her surroundings. She dared not lift her eyes to watch her Mistress as She paced, not even so high as to look at the fishnet wrapped around Her elegant calves.

The wooden paddle lifted each of the slave's soft, pale breasts in turn as though gauging them, weighing them. Maggie bit her lip. Would her Mistress spank her tits as punishment? Her nipples hardened, remembering the last time her chest had received such treatment. The cleft between her legs pulsed, grew wetter in anticipation, but the wooden paddle disappeared as well. Inwardly the slave groaned. She knew she would be punished, she deserved it, but waiting for it, not knowing what that punishment would be, made her uneasy.

Her Mistress's leather-clad feet appeared in view of her down-turned eyes and she watched with sudden trepidation as clips were attached to her tender nipples, still bruised from the previous day's activities.

“Bad, bad slave...” The dissatisfied tone of her Mistress's voice made her sorrier than ever that she had failed to be obedient. “Such a disappointment to Me... After I worked so hard to train you, to bring you to where you belong - at My feet. Your place is on your knees at My heels, have you forgotten that?” She was attaching little silver chains to the clips, and at the end of each chain dangled a little round weight. Her Mistress let the weights drop from Her hand unceremoniously, without care to Her slave's tender flesh. Maggie gasped at the sudden sharp pain as the weights hit the length of their chain and hung, pulling cruelly on her nipples.

Her Mistress was parting Maggie's legs, pushing them open with Her knee. She reached for the little silver rings that pierced her labia and attached another set of weights. Could She feel how wet her slave was? Maggie stifled her whimper as her swollen pink lips were stretched and pulled.

“Your body will remember its place, even if you don't. When I am near you, when you hear My voice, even if you so much as think My name, your body will remember this feeling, of being pulled to the ground. Slaves belong on the ground, like other animals.”

Maggie nodded tearfully. Another weighted chain attached to the silver metal collar around her neck. The feeling of heaviness was incredible; she longed to kneel, to flatten herself against the floorboards and relieve the strain on her tender flesh, to supplicate herself before She who owned her.

The tail end of a leather bullwhip trailed by her vision, snakelike at her feet. Panic blossomed. Her Mistress knew she couldn't take the whip well; it was by far the most cruel way She could exact Her price on Her slave's flesh. Maggie's eyes were wide but still she did not move. If this was Her Mistress's decision, so be it, but she was truly shaking now. Cold sweat had begun to bead along her back and brow. She thought back to the morning's events and her reason for being bound up now. Had it really been that bad, what she had done? If Her Mistress would whip her for it, then yes. Very, very bad.

Bad, bad slave... Maggie started to cry. Mentally she cursed her clumsiness, her penchant for being so easily distracted. There was no hope for it now. She had displeased her Mistress and would suffer for it. Pain would bring her absolution, her Mistress would see to that. She would take her hand and guide her through it, show her the way back to Her good graces, a good slave at Her aristocratic feet.

Maggie wanted her Mistress to be happy with her again.

The weight was beginning to be unbearable. It had dulled to a warm throb where each clip was hooked to the little rings that pierced her body, but now flared bright and agonizing. Her flesh begged her for release, begged for mercy, it couldn't take this much longer, but there was no solace she could give it, it was not her place to free it. The tears ran down her cheeks as she wished she could lower herself to the floor and be forgiven.

The sound of the whip cracking shattered both the quiet and Maggie's nerves. She yelped, but there had only been the barest disturbance of air near her right thigh. Her skin remained untouched. Mistress was teasing her, tormenting her. She sniffled again, blinking rapidly against the wetness that spilled over her lovely long lashes.

“So undisciplined...”

Maggie could hear the cruel smile in her Mistress's voice, that dark honeyed voice she loved to listen to, even at times like these.

“But your inexperience gives us ample opportunity to spend good quality time together, like this.”

The whip cracked again, closer this time, but still Maggie was untouched. She wished She would get it over with, flay her raw if She so desired, but get it over with! With each second that passed her skin grew hotter, expecting the blows to come. Her nerve endings were super-charged, achingly sensitive.

“What should I do with a slave as bad as yourself?”

Maggie whimpered. Her Mistress should do as She felt Her slave deserved, she thought. How could it be any other way? How could she possibly redeem herself otherwise?

“Please Miss... Punish me.” Her voice was soft, broken from her tears. “Please, please let me be a better slave for You.”

“Punish you how?” Her Mistress demanded sharply. “What could possibly be enough to erase what you've done?”

“A caning?” Maggie ventured, then bit her lip. She knew before she said it that it was the wrong answer.

Her Mistress laughed with disdain, then snarled. “I said punish you, not coddle you. Try again. Be more clever this time.”

Maggie flinched. “Miss please... whip me?” It was the thing she didn't want to say, the thing she feared would happen anyways.

“A tempting choice, believe Me. However, I don't feel it's enough to teach you the lesson you need to learn.”

Maggie lost her breath for a panicked moment. Not enough? What could be worse? Where was the whip now?

Her Mistress was standing close to her at her side, she could feel the heat that emanated from Her body. There was a familiar sound, a click then the muted whir of a vibrator. Maggie was confused. Suddenly her Mistress's hand came down hard on her ass, a harsh smack that she knew would leave a red imprint. Her spine arched, her eyelids flying wide open in shock. The shock doubled when the vibrator hit her clit, sending an electrified rush of pleasure radiating through her body. The gadget was pulled away after only a brief touch. The hand came again, hard, on her other cheek, then the vibrator back on her clit. Maggie was rocked between the two sensations, the pain and the pleasure as her Mistress took up a steady rhythm.

Maggie couldn't think, she could only feel. The pain from the spanking was excruciating but a warm feeling was growing in her lower body, a pulsing sensation that rippled out to her limbs in waves of heat. Her backside burned, ached and shivered, but there was a build up, like water behind a dam. She was ashamed at the pleasure she felt; she knew she didn't deserve it. Each strike of her Mistress's hand felt rightly placed. Still she couldn't help how she was coming close to climaxing under the onslaught. Her face was wet from tears, her thighs were wet from her arousal.

“Bad, bad slave...”

Maggie cried out in anguish at Her words. Yes, she was bad! Yes, please, punish her! How she needed it! She was on the edge, she couldn't hold herself back much longer...

Suddenly her hands were freed. She sank immediately to the ground and the strain on her sensitive parts from the weights was released. The relief was overwhelming but she didn't dare give in, didn't dare let go. She waited for her Mistress's word.

“Cum, My slave,” She said.

Maggie was swept by an orgasm that roiled through her body like flames engulfing a building, burning her to the ground. Face down on the floor, her body spasmed and twitched and shook in complete abandon. When at last the fire died down, she lifted her head to see she was prostrate at her Mistress's feet. She felt a sense of comfort at that. This was where She wanted her, this was where Maggie belonged.This is where she wanted to be.

“Good slave,” her Mistress said, and there was a smile in her voice.

All was right in their world again.