I don't think she knows quite how much of a thrill it gives me, hearing her describe to me how she's going to tell everybody how worthless I am, how little gratitude I give her, how unworthy of her presence I am and how gracious she is to bother treating me like shit when she could just as easily ignore my every word and I'd still give her every penny. The harsh yet swiftly confident bite of her voice was a sign that she meant every word; you can't fake such sincerity. I adore her punishments, her gifts to me. Every time she pulls my hair so hard my head can't help but be forced that same direction, I thank her as much as my weak, feeble voice can choke out. I kiss and massage her feet every time she gifts me with a spanking session with her wooden paddle, or a wooden spoon.
I'll never forget the time I tried to push the boundaries. She'd always told me that rule #1 of our encounters was that I was to act as if my penis didn't exist. I made the unforgivable mistake of telling her how hard my penis was getting as she spit in my face. It was at that moment that she hit it with her paddle. My hands were cuffed behind my back and my legs were bound together while I was lying on the ground, so all I was able to do was grunt and tremble like the pathetic loser I am.
"For today's activity, you will wear a spider gag until you drool a puddle on the floor. You will be face down ass up, obviously with your face in the puddle." She spoke to me as she held the spider gag by the mouthpiece in the crook of her left index finger. "Now, shall we negotiate how much you will pay me?" The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. There was always a glint of excitement that lit up her face when she talked about the money I was to give to her.
"Of course, mistress." I handed her the briefcase I was holding. She took it in her arms, clutching it to her chest with a cheerful grin on her face. She sits down on her massage table as she put in the combination to unlock it. She lifted the lid slowly. Contemplatively, she pulled out each stack of twenty dollar bills, counting.
"Two thousand, four thousand, six thousand..." Just the sound of her counting my offering made me impatient, thirsty for my punishment. I was relieved as she finishes up counting, stopping at twenty-four thousand. "Oh, look at that. More than usual. I suppose I'm obligated to blackmail you as well." My heart was pounding, and I could feel my face flush with excitement.
"I'd love it if you blackmailed me! Assuming I behave accordingly." I got on my knees, an invitation for the punishments to begin. A small smirk lit up her face for a split second before she came towards me with the spider gag. She hooked both sides into my mouth. How excited I was only increased my salivation.
"I'd hate to see that pretty dress shirt get messy. Why don't I take that off of you?" She inquired, rather rhetorically as she unbuttoned first the wrists, then the placket. Pulling it off of me and setting it on the massage table, she walked to the door of the room. "I'm going to make some tea. I want you in position while I'm gone, ready for me to tie your hands.
I got into position, with my wrists crossed behind my back, my left ear and the strap of the gag resting gently on the cold floor.
"No, I want to tie your hands in front this time."
I moved my hands to my lower abdomen. She nodded and smiled approvingly before turning, stepping out the door, and closing it quietly behind her. Minutes ticked by, and they seemed so much longer without her presence. Those ten minutes felt closer to thirty. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I heard her footsteps, high heels clicking, and then the door opening. She stepped through the door, and down the two stairs. She sat on the massage table with her hands around the cup in her lap.
"Not much of a puddle yet, is there? That's no fun. Guess the blackmail will have to wait." She sipped her tea; a dull, unimpressed expression on her face. "I was thinking I'd send photos to your ex-wife, so she can see what a pathetic maggot she left behind." Not only did that idea get my salivary glands amped up, but it also caused my penis to harden.
Spit pooled around the side of my face at a faster rate than before. She scrolled through her phone, the light from the screen illuminating the brown skin of her face and neck. She leisurely sipped her tea. Once the last bit was drained from the cup, she set the cup down on the massage table.
"Finally, a significant puddle for your face." She turned the phone towards my face. Unprepared, my eyes involuntarily squeezed shut when the flash occurred. "Not very photogenic today, are we?" She giggled. "Now for a short video or two." She stepped up, walking a few steps closer to me. I heard two short beeps, indicating that the phone was recording video.
"And we're rolling. Here is your scumbag ex. Did you know he likes bathing himself in his own spit while being gagged? It really is better that way. He can't say much. Oh, another fun fact; he adores being spanked." Between sentences, she spanked my ass with her hand by surprise. It stung a bit, even through my slacks. "Do you know how much he pays me to do this to him? Twenty-four thousand dollars. And he just hands it over, like it's nothing. He begs me to take his money." She stopped recording video, and allowed me to watch as she emailed it to my ex-wife, along with the picture she'd taken moments earlier.
"Get back up, on your knees," she instructed. I cautiously lifted myself off the floor, my own disgusting spit covering the left side of my face. The feeling of it dripping made me cringe. She unbuckled the gag and slowly, gently unhooked it from my mouth. I instinctively closed my mouth, moving my lips around to relax my face from having been stationary for about forty minutes. She began wrapping my wrists in hemp rope. Finishing it off with a knot going between my wrists, she tied the two free ends to a metal fastener attached to the floor.
"You look absolutely helpless." She smiled slyly, shaking her head. "I want your elbows on the floor." I did as she instructed,my elbows and forearms flat on the floor above my head, my knees on the floor with legs slightly spread. She reached around my waist, unbuttoning my slacks so she could expose my ass and upper thighs. "How about we insert the next size butt plug?"
"Yes, Mistress! Please!" I exclaimed enthusiastically in response. She pulled a box out from under the massage table, opened it, and grabbed the plug. It was about four and a half inches long and three inches wide at the widest point. She put it in front of my face so that I could lubricate it with my mouth. After a moment of licking and sucking it, she pulled it out of my mouth and inserted it slowly into my asshole, allowing me to feel every inch, as well as what an awful lubrication job I'd done. I clenched my teeth.
"Stop being a big fucking child!" She shouted as she dug her nails into my buttcheek. "It's in. I want you to wear it all day at work tomorrow." She grabbed her paddle, also in the box from under the massage table. She knelt by my right side and hit my ass with it. I could feel the warmth along with a slight sting. That was going to leave a mark I'd treasure for days to come. The next spank was so firm that I couldn't help but to grunt a little, from both pleasure and pain. "Shut up, fucking pig! I want you to be silent." The next hit made me tear up a little. The one after that wasn't very hard. It didn't have to be, my ass stung like hell at this point. She gave a few more light spanks, just for novelty.
She pulled my slacks back over my sore, red ass before she crawled closer to my face and untied my wrists. My forearms and knees were also sore from being on the concrete for so long. I brought myself to my knees and kissed both of her feet, giving a "thank you" between kisses. Standing up shakily, I braced myself on the massage table for a moment to steady myself.
"When would you like to be punished again, scum?" She asked.
I thought for a moment, combing through my schedule mentally. "Second Friday of next month. Will the same time work?"
"Absolutely, for a price."
