I stood silently in the darkened room the only sound that of the clocks ominous tick, each note sending fingers of tension up my spine. My legs ached for release but I knew that to sit was an agony I could not endure. The blazing pain in my backside and thighs a screaming reminder of the events that had already taken place tonight, events which were surely only a prelude to all this night would bring.
The day had been a perfectly ordinary one, ordinary that was until I had stumbled across my daughter’s journal. Almost as though by fate it had fallen open in my hands at the very last entry. Dry mouthed I had read that page, my mind screaming that it was an invasion of privacy and that I should close it and return it unread to the drawer. Oh how I wish I had, I was so painfully unprepared for what I saw. My 18 year old daughter Danielle describing in naïve anticipation how she planned to lose her virginity this very night to a boyfriend she was not even supposed to have. My impeccably manicured nails cut into the soft flesh of my palms as I let my mind drift back …
I read the words over and over desperately trying to decide what I should do. Could I pretend I haven’t seen it? Should I wait and confront Danielle on her return? Should I call her on her cell phone and bring her home? I let out a soft, ragged sigh; I know none of these actions are an option. As always I have only one option. I have to tell my husband and I know with the absolute clarity born of a lifetime’s knowledge the rage that conversation is going to provoke.
Once again I find myself wishing that my marriage was the mundane, run of the mill suburban existence my friends and family think. My husband and I have been married for 19 years and for 20 I have been his slave and he my master. He owns me totally and is adept and practiced at reminding me of this fact. I know that to tell him of our daughters indiscretion will earn me a thrashing.
He loves to mete out punishment for my crimes and those of our children and it has always been my most tender and intimate flesh that had been the recipient of his cruel blows. He has never raised a hand to either of our children but has instead, frequently and viciously punished me for all of their wrong doings, from a bad report card to the day our son had been caught smoking at school.
I know his anger at the news I have to deliver will be supreme, not least of all because I am fully aware of his intentions towards Danielle. For months now he has been describing in minute detail how he is going to fuck our virgin daughter and have her join me as his slave. Night after night as he pounds his rock hard prick into my tight cunt he tells me how he imagines her spread eagled and helpless beneath him. Reminding me of how he seduced and trained me when I was the same age as her. Telling me how I would be instrumental in her training. I had been sick with despair at first but in the dim recesses of my mind I had always known this day would come and that as usual I would be powerless to stop it.
Mentally I steel myself as taking the journal I made my way downstairs to my husbands study. I stand in front of the heavy door and fight to moisten my dry lips as I knock. His deep, smooth voice beckons me into the room and his smile as I enter is tender and welcoming. Once again I am struck by what an incredibly good-looking and powerful man he is and despite our unusual relationship I adore him as much he does me. His vividly blue eyes caress my body and I feel the familiar heat in the pit of my stomach despite my fear.
His voice is a silky whisper as he greets me, “Hello my love what can I do for you?” His eyes search my face and I know he can see the anxiety in my eyes as I move towards him the journal in my outstretched hand.
“I think you should read this my love and I don’t think you are going to like it,” My voice trembles and my legs feel like jelly as I lay the slender volume on the large leather topped desk in front of him. His glance is quizzical as he lifts the book and once again it falls open as if the pages have been turned by some unseen hand. I stand before his desk as he reads, instinctively my body taking its customary position, feet slightly apart, hands clasped loosely behind my back, head bowed.
The few brief moments it takes him to read seemed like an eternity. Suddenly I hear the book shut as he slams it onto the desk. He lets out an almost animal growl of anger and flies from his seat instantly by my side. His right hand grabs a large fistful of my silky blonde hair and he yanks my head back so that my eyes meet his. “How long have you known about this boyfriend you cunt?” he roars.
My head starts to throb as he pulls my hair harder and I stammer my protest, “I dddidn’t know Master. I only found the journal by accident. I brought it straight to you”
His left hand cracks across my face leaving a blaze of pain in its wake, “LIAR! You fucking bitch you knew! Probably planned it all with the little slut!” he hissed.
Fighting against my better judgement I answer him back, “No Master I swear, I …”
CRACK!!!! His hand slaps my face hard again as he snarls at me, “Shut up Cunt!!! Did I give you permission to speak?”
He moves away from me, his face an icy mask as his hands go to his belt I know what will happen next. Normally my punishments are delivered in the confines of the basement dungeon, locked against the children’s curious gaze. Tonight, however, I know I will feel the lash right here and now. His anger is too hot to allow him the luxury of taking me where I can not be heard. I stand frozen watching him too afraid to realise what a mistake I am making. His voice snaps me to attention, “What the fuck are you waiting for cunt? Strip now or do I have to tear the clothes from your worthless body?”
Catapulted into action I shed my clothes hastily but not so hastily that I forget to fold them neatly in a pile on the floor. My training has been so thorough that I instinct tells me a transgression like that would only intensify his anger. Without needing to be told I assume the position making myself pliantly available for the lash of his belt. I lean forward over the smooth leather of his desk gripping the far side with my fingers and spreading my legs so I am stretched and ready. No sooner have I settled than the belt comes crashing through the air, biting cruelly into the naked flesh of my upturned arse. The torrent of blows so hard and fast that I scream loudly in pain, unable to control myself. His voice hisses coldly in my ear, “Shut up Cunt! Do you want your screams to bring Nathan in?”
Nathan is our son, the twin brother of the reason for my current punishment. I bite down on my lip trying to stifle my cries as my husband repeatedly lashes my arse and thighs but it is too late. The study springs open as Nathan rushes in, the concerned cry of “Mum!” dying on his lips as he takes in the scene before him.
