tricia's burn

Posted in: BDSM | OTK | S & M

tricia’s mouth opened, soft and inviting, with full lips made for kissing it seemed. Instantly she tasted the pepper coating the thick slab of leather was thick enough that the soft roof of her mouth also burned. Even her cheeks, whichshe tried to puff out to spare them the spiky crisp pain, were torched. Master was gentle, though she deserved for Him to be coarse, but when He secured the gag, He tugged and yanked, forcing her to fight the urge to try and spit it out.
The gag filled her mouth with its stinging torment, and kept it open just enough so her jaw wouldn’t cramp right away. she didn’t want to swallow, for the tip of the gag’s tongue touched the back of her palate, and if she did she felt the flutter in the back her throat, tugging at her stomach.
she had to swallow, her mouth watered, flooded in fact, but her saliva did nothing to quench the fire. she imagined the soft tissues of her mouth blistering and charring from the pepper’s fluids. Finally, she swallowed, the juice flaming down her throat like little razors, and she choked, tears squirting from her eyes. she coughed, gagging through the leather. tricia tried to clear her throat, and chomped down on it, whimpering to her Master.
He ignored her, tugging her hair, freeing it from the gag’s cords, and smoothing it out, combing her long, brown hair with a wide, flat brush, until He stepped back, looking her over.
tricia was forced to swallow again, and a fresh flood of tears ran down her face. Although she was being punished, Master wanted a pretty picture, and tricia did her very best to please His eye. she tried, but the venom in her mouth made her wince; the heat so great all she could think of was tearing the gag from her face, and spit and retch upon the floor to get the vile stuff from her mouth.
she shook, fighting the urge, though it would have been futile in any case. Master had bound her arms behind her back, tying her forearms together, and wound rope about her upper arms, circling her breasts in a figure-eight, hugging them together. she clawed her elbows, and an itch crawled over her nose as it started to run. tricia’s shame grew; seeing herself in her mind’s eye: her eyes puffy, red, and watering; cheeks flushed; nose running swiftly; drool glistening at the corners of her mouth. her Master didn’t have a pretty slave to look at, and she was anaughty slave too, tricia thought, hanging her head. This was part of it, she realized, knowing that He was seeing her not at her best, but ragged and ugly.
she cried openly as Master chuckled. A heavy blush blazed over her face, hothot enough to match the fire in her mouth. she coughed behind the gag and shivered as the itch in her nose worsened. Master, Your slave is so sorry! she wanted to shout, to fall to her knees — no, to her belly — and kiss His feet, kiss every toe and bathe them, using her hair to do so, and beg for His forgiveness. she’d promise to do what He wanted; to do it with grace, poise, and all the love she had for Him. tricia wanted to be a good girl again; it tore at her heart when Master had called her a bad girl, and commanded His bad, ugly cunt to get the rope and the correction gag. she crawled for each item, taking them to Him in her teeth, knowing that she did deserve what was going to happen, and fearing it with each four-legged step.
Now, bound, the correction gag searing her mouth and throat, tricia squirmed. her bare bottom felt hot and her bowels felt loose from the pepper; it was an illusion, like the heat from wine, she told herself, not wanting to imagine the torment she’d receive if anything else went wrong.
“Over my knees, cunt,” Master commanded. His voice wasn’t the gentle one she was familiar with, it was hard, and cut her like a knife’s edge. she started to walk to Him on her knees, rope binding them as well, and pressing painfully into her bones as she moved forward.
Master was up in a flash, and tricia shied from His terrible love. He stood over her and used His foot to push her face to the floor, pushing until she lay on her belly.”Only slaves — good slaves — use their hands and knees, disobedient cunts have to crawl,” He growled. “If I see one inch of your worthless hide off that floor, I’m going to oil your asshole and your fuckhole with that cayenne. Then I’m going to clog both your foul openings with the correction plugs, bitch.” He went back to His seat. “Do you understand me, you disobedient cunt?”
tricia sobbed into the carpet, His words, His tone like a bladed whip against her soft skin. she nodded vigorously, knowing just what the plugs felt like with the hot pepper, and the shocks Master could send through her inner flesh. she nodded, shutting her eyes against the cruel stare of her disappointed Master.
“Are you going to mewl there on the rug, cunt?” He asked, tapping the hairbrush against His knee. “Or are you going to haul your selfish, sorry ass over here?”
tricia moaned, crawling, wriggling to her Master. Each angry word was also one of pain, for she had insulted His love for her, His very gift, and she told herself that this was what bad slaves deserved. The friction against her breasts built as she slithered, pushing herself along with her toes. she would not, absolutely would not have the correction plugs inside her again, and kept herself against the carpet, glued to it in fact. Heat kissed every part of her, and the gag was starting to numb her mouth, but it still boiled in her throat and belly. she stared through the blur and heat growing in her straining muscles, keeping her eyes on her Master’s feet. tricia felt like a worm, undulating awkwardly toward Him, desperately hugging the floor. I am a slug beneath His feet, she told herself, unfit to belong to Him, and thus I must crawl like a worm. she didn’t cry at this, she was too focused on crawling to cry. Here was her strength, in this humiliation and this torment.
Master glared at her, and ran the flat of the hairbrush over His thigh. He started to tap His fingers over the handle, and tricia bit the leather harder, pushing through the protests of her sore body, and wriggled to His feet. she pressed her forehead to each foot, and awaited a word or a yank of hair. she pushed herself against His legs when He ordered her over His knees. she slithered up, the warmth from His body a marked contrast to the prickling heat of the rugburns on her breasts and knees. Master made no move to help her position herself, andshe nearly tumbled from His lap as she struggled. After what felt like an eternity under His withering gaze, tricia dug the tips of her toes into the carpet and presented her rear for Him.
“How many do you think you should get, cunt?”
tricia shook her head wildly, and whimpered. she flinched at the cool touch of the hairbrush on her buttocks.
“I think this is worth more then ten, or twenty, don’t you think, cunt?”
tricia started to cry again, pushing her buttocks up against the slowly circling brush. If only He would get it over with. Please, Master, she thought, please.
“you disappointed me, cunt,” He said, with soft, deliberate words, the tone making her weak with sorrow.
The first smack was harsh, not like the tender ones He normally laid upon her, and she chewed on the leather, lifting her ass for the second, and the dozens that followed. she wailed, each smack filling the room like a gunshot, and tricia shivered. her buttocks flared with pain, bright and hot like a bonfire, and she shook harder, pressing her toes into the carpet, clenching her fists as the flat of the brush kissed each cheek of supple flesh. Tears flowed freely now, and she began to see bright spots in her eyes. The blows fell like rain, over and over; some striking the curve, some hitting at the crease where her ass met her thighs, upturned swings of Master’s wrist that arched through her like lightning. tricia swooned, inhaling deeply and struggling to meet the punishment she so richly deserved. It was getting harder though, she thought, and the pain was moving from raw fire to a kind of numbing cold that dazed her.
she fought to present, and slipped. Instantly Master twisted her hair around His fist and pulled her from her trance, flooding her with new pain, and rapidly smacked her thighs. Up and down the brush went, from just above the back of her knee to the curve of her buttocks. she wanted to kick like a little girl, to protest, but held her ground, crying and shrieking through the correction gag as her thighs screamed. He pulled her hair and tricia howled. He ordered her to spread her legs, and she almost shook her head, but she was not so far gone that she would dare that. she obeyed, her legs parting like a rusty pair of pliers, and braced herself for the blow.
When it came, she inhaled as deeply as she could, thinking of everything but the wet smack on her sex. It snapped through her, and again, again, again the brush bit into her most tender flesh. she humped back as if it were His cock, as she’d been trained to do, but detested every arch of her spine and every hurtful caress of the brush. It may have been a dozen or three dozen, but shortly she fell back into a deep, gauzy haze that blanketed her. she heaved with every deep sob that struggled through her painwracked form, and then she moaned when the bristles of the brush sawed over her cunt, rough and stinging like the carpet across her breasts. Master ground the bristles against her, and this time she did shrink from them, writhing even as He tugged hair from her scalp. The bristles rode over her clit and despite herself, tricia shook with a secret delight that she hated. Deep down in her heart she ached for more, and growled when He stopped. The next time they touched her was against the embers of her backside. They snapped and stabbed at her ass, fanning the embers into a fire. tricia gurgled mindlessly.
Exhausted, limp like a wet rag, and numb with agony that settled in the very center of her bones; tricia wept as Master thumbed the tears from her cheeks. she wasn’t aware of the time, or even the day. Where Master had taken her to was a self-contained universe, and both regretfully and thankfully, He would let her out when He felt like it. she could barely see the room, let alone remember which room it might be. she felt drunk, shaky like a newborn fawn, yet surrounded by a thick warmth. Master slapped her face until she focused on Him.
“Are you ready to behave, cunt?”
tricia nodded, hard enough to cover her face with her silken hair, which clung to her in damp cords. she came back to life when He laughed and brushed the hair from her wet face. He pulled her close, wrapping His arms around her.
“Are you ready to be a good girl, cunt?”
tricia moaned softly and nodded, nuzzling His shoulder.
“I’m going to untie your arms first, tricia,” He whispered, tenderly pinching the sore skin of her buttocks.
tricia groaned, and hissed as the bonds were loosed, then peeled away from her. her shoulders ached, then sang with fresh pain as she let them relax. He allowed her to rest against His shoulder as she endured the throb of the tired muscles, and cupped a breast, jiggling it in His hand, His thumb coaxing her nipple to harden, while she slowly flexed her arms.
“Now for your legs, tricia,” He said. He reached down, and she clung to Him, still weeping as He freed her. Master rubbed the rope marks, gently massaging her calves, bringing the blood back with a rush of cold needles, and she struggled through the last bond. The correction gag was appropriately the last to go, she thought, keeping her eyes shut and breathing hard through her runny nose. Just one more, she thought, one more.
“Ok, honey,” He said, caressing her cheek. “you know why this had to be in your mouth, tricia, and are you ready to use this as I see fit?”
she nodded, giving Him a fierce hug. she coughed daintily when He pulled the wicked correction gag from her tired mouth. Master set the evil thing down, and she kissed His neck, resting her chapped, benumbed lips against His pulse.
“your mouth will be ready to serve whenever I wish it…in any way I wish it.”
“Yes Master,” she whispered, her voice a hoarse, hollow sound, and she nuzzled His face. “Whenever, and however You wish it, my Master.”
“Then tomorrow you will use it as you were supposed to, tricia.”
“Oh, Master, yes, as I should have. I’m so sorry, Master, it was wrong of me to refuse,” she started to sob again, pressing her face against Him, “and it won’t happen again.” He held her as she cried, rocking her in His lap. “I was weak for a moment, Master, just a moment.”
“I know you were, honey, but you’ll be good from now on won’t you?”
“Yes, Master, whenever You want the dog pleased, I’ll do it…gladly.”
tricia didn’t see His smile, but she felt it, and her heart warmed at His words.
“I know you will, my love, I know you will.”

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