Tiffany & Master - Punishment

It had been seven days since I had last been with my Master:  seven days of
waiting, wanting, desiring.  We do not usually go that long between encounters,
however, the last time we were together, I had disobeyed him.  He had made his
desires perfectly clear:  that night was for his pleasure only.  I was to do as
I was told and submit myself to his desires, while not allowing myself to to be
fully satisfied.  In other words, I was not to cum.  That last night together, I
was to be at his whim, his fancy, his pleasure was my only goal.  And, to be
truthful, his pleasure is always my goal, but, usually, he allows me the
pleasure of cumming, as well.  As always, in the event of that particulat
evening, my Master is very, very hard to resist.  He knows exactly what and how
to do things to bring me to the brink of final satisfaction, and then leave me
there, hanging, panting without the full satisfaction of physical pleasure.
That night, however, he was at his best and I could not resist the fires he
flamed in me.  In a frenzy from his attentions to my body, I begged and pleaded
to be allowed to cum.  He asked if I was willing to pay and price and I replyed
with a breathy 'yes'.  Well, my prescious Master fucked me relentlessly and we
both came so hard that I was near tears at the sheer pleasure of it.  But, when
we had finished, he looked at me, and smiled wickedly.  I knew, at that moment,
that his words of earlier in the evening were spoken with truth.  I would pay a
price for my disobedience.

Part of that price was the agony of waiting for him to contact me, a very little
part as I was to learn.  Finally, after seven days, my e-mail announcer beeped
and I went to discover a message from him.  I could have lept for joy at that
moment, but, after reading his short message, a sprinkling of fear began to
creep over me.  You see, he usually writes to me expressing not only his desires
to see me but his love, as well. And, even if it is brief, it is always warm.
Not so, this case.  It read:  "Tiffany, Be at our cottage at 8:00pm tonight.
Master"  That was all, short and definitely not sweet.

I was a bundle of nerves as I drove to our cottage hide away.  What was my
punishment to be?  What had he in mind?  How could I have been so selfish as to
disappoint him?  I was chiding myself as I walked to and opened our cottage
door.  The room was dark except for one light beside the television cabinet.
There was a note taped to the cabinet and I walked over to read "Play the tape."
His image filled the screen and my heart.  He was lying on our bed, here at this
cottage, dressed only in his jeans.  He was all dark hair and dark, penetrating
eyes.  He was looking right at the camera, right at me, right into me.

"Tiffany, do you see me here?  Reclining?  Half undressed?", came his voice as
smooth as cognac, "Do you see me, Tiffany?  Do you want me?"  I nodded my head
to myself as I continued to watch him.  He ran his hands through his hair, and
down his chest, and unbuttoned his pants to take out his hard, throbbing cock.
"Would you like to taste me, Tiffany?  Would you like to please me and for me to
please you?"  Again, I nodded my head to no one as he stroked his cock ever so
briefly before re-doing his pants.  He sat up and brought his handsome face
close to the camers, and spoke forcefully,  "Well, my pet, you have been
disobedient and, if you ever wish to feel me inside of you again, if you ever
wish to have my attentions again, you will submit to your punishment tonight,
fully, completely, no matter what.  Do you understand?"  

I knew I was shaking as I continued to nod my head to the screen.  "Walk into
our bedroom, my bad little pet, and put on the clothes I have laid out for you.
You will also see a small plastic device which you shall fit snugly into your
ear.  Where the glasses I have left for you as well.  These items are essential.
Once you have dressed properly, I want you to go to your vanity and sweep your
hair up, put on your make-up, and look especially alluring tonight.  Do this
propery, do this now, and, while you are doing so, pause the tape and re-start
it when you are done."  

I walked into our bedroom and flipped on the light.  He had laid out an oufit
which would be especially reveling of my body:  black, front-closure, satin bra,
black sheer blouse, short silver stretch skirt which hugged every curve of my
hips, black garter belt and stockings, and 5" black thigh high boot with the
silver heels.  This outfit was definitely a 'slut' outfit, and, again, my fears
began to brew.  But, I knew I could not disappoint him again, and I dressed as
he desired, which, by the way, included no panties under that short shirt.  I
went to my vanity and swept up my hair and made-up my face, placed the ear-piece
in my ear and the glasses on my face, and then walked back to the television and
pushed play on the vcr.

"I wish I was there to see you, my whore.  But, I am afraid that I would be
unable to control my desires and then your punishment would never happen.  That
would be unacceptable, wouldn't it?  Yes, I am afraid it would.  I have been
very clever in your punishment tonight.  You shall see.  Now, go back to your
car and drive to The Siamese Club.  You know where that is and what that is,
don't you?  Yes, I know you do.  I shall be waiting."  Then the screen went
dark.

The Siamese Club??  My mind was racing.  What was going to happen?  The Siamese
Club was a known as mainly a lesbian bar.  Why would he be there?  Did he think
a punishment would be for lesbians to see me like this?  I was in a state of
confusion as I drove to the club.  When I arrived, I found a parking spot
towards the back of the lot, and walked into the place.  I had not been here
before and looked around to let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the
candles and white twinkle lights.  I saw mostly women, with a few men seated
here and there alone and together.  I walked a few steps into the main room and
then I heard him.  "Hello my whore." came his voice through the little earpiece.
"You now know what the earpiece is for.  Just to inform you, the glasses contain
a small receiver so I can hear you.  And, you know my affection for technical
wizardry, so you will not be surprised to hear that there is also a small camera
in the bridge of your glasses.  My word, you do look hot tonight."  My head must
have looked like one of those dogs in the back of car windows because I was
looking all over to try to find him.  "Up hear, up hear, to your right, at the
center balcony table over the dancefloor."

Then I saw him.  He was seated alone drinking out of a tall glass.  he smiled at
me and raised his glass and I began to move through the crowd towards him.  "No,
Tiffany, do not come to me.  Go and seat yourself at the bar.  Do you see the
open seat there by the palm tree?  Yes, go sit there and I can see you
perfectly."  I did as I was told, and ordered a drink, as I was told, and then
had another, as I was told.  The place was full of gorgeous and not-so-gorgeous
women.  They were dancing and kissing and laughing and drinking.  My eyes
wondered about, taking in the beauty as his eyes were wondering over me.
"Unbutton your blouse, Tifany, just keep one button closed for teasing purposes.
That's it.  Good whore."  I flinched a bit at the last statement.  It seemed
that was all he was calling me tonight.  Not love, not my dearest, not my sweet,
but, his whore, only his whore.  

The music was good and the liquor flowed nicely over the next 30 minutes or so.
It would have been a perfectly peaceful little time except for two things.  I
was frightened at the prospect of what he had in mind.  And, I was getting
annoyed at the woman seated in one of the corner tables who was loud and
obnoxious.  She was what would be classified as a 'butch' lesbian:  short hair,
tall and muscular stature, gruff exterior - not my kind of woman.  But, she
seemed to be attracting quite a number of beauties.  Maybe they found her
maleness attractive but I did not.  As my eyes were stuck on the commotion at
her table, I was suddenly startled to feel a hand on my thigh.  I turned to find
a beautiful creature standing next to and to hear my Master's words in my
earpiece, "Edible." was all he said.

"Hello, I'm Pamela.  I've been watching you for a bit.  Would you like to have a
drink with me?"  I was absorbing her with my eyes and, at the same time,
wondering how the hell my Master thought this was punishment?  She was about
5'4" tall, probably around 30 years old, and delisciously round.  She had large
breasts and hips that looked like they were made to grad onto.  Her hair was
shorter than I would have considered perfect but it was a pretty shade of honey
brown.  She had full, suckable lips that I wanted to  nibble on.  "Drink?" she
said again.   I nodded yes before my Master could say anything, and she ordered
us two glasses of White Zinfendel.  She continued chatting, and I bantered back
and forth with her, being flirtatious and fun.  She asked me to dance and I
heard my Master give me permission.  Once on the dancefloor, I then heard him
give me instructions.  I was to dance sultry, close to her, holding and rubbing
against her.  She was very receptive to this and returned the gestures.  The
music was pulsng, slow, blues and, at one point, she pulled me to her and began
kissing my neck. She whispered in my ear how hot I looked and how she would love
to get to know me bettr.  I was in a haze of alcohol and feeling her warm body
next to mine, and knowing my Master was watching and enjoying this little show.
I almost forgot that I was in store for some form of punishment.  Certainly this
wasn't it.  

"Tiffany,"  I heard my master say, "Are you enjoying yourself?"  I moaned a yes
as Pamela slid her thight up between my legs and I slid my thigh between her
legs and we ground into each other on the dance floor.  "Tiffany, Tiffany."  I
heard my Master's voice, "Look up at me, my whore."  And, as I did, his words
were hard. "She pleases you, I can see that.  Look at you, my whore, grinding
your body into another woman.  But, remember, tonight is for your punishment,
not your pleasure.  Did you think  I would allow you to perhaps enjoy her
completely?  Perhaps with me there to join you?  Did you?"  I nodded my head as
my eyes were fixed on him while Pamela's hands were roaming my body and mine
hers.  "No, my bad pet, Pamela is simply my way of teasing you.  You are to stop
now.  Stop the dancing, stop the touching, stop the grinding, stop the kissing.
Go back to your seat at the bar.  Tiffany, push her away.  Stop now - now -
Tiffany, do not disobey me again.  STOP!"  And, at that, I pushed her away and
walked back to my seat at the bar.

She followed, grabbing at me, touching me.  "Tiff, why did you stop.  It felt so
good."  she questioned.  "Tell her you're not interested.  She's not your type.
Tell her Tiffany."  I could have screamed.  He knew exactly that she was my
type.  The type of woman I would love to feel and taste.  He knew this and he
was going to make me stop.  Was this my punishment?  "Tell her now!!"  Came his
words in my ear.  "Pamela, I'm sorry, I was enjoying our dance but I cannot
continue tonight."  "NO," he screamed in my ear.  "Tell her she is not your
type!!"  "Pamela, you are lovely,"  I heard the words falling from my lips as my
body sank, "But, I am afraid you are not my type."  She looked as if I had hit
her.  She looked so disappointed, and, then, she pushed one of her hands into
one of mine and took my face with her other and pulled me to her mouth.  She
whispered in my ear, "Yes, I am.  Perhaps you just don't know it yet."  And,
then she was gone.  Moving through the crowd, towards the door, where she turned
and blew me a kiss before leaving.

I sat on the stool.  Hot, sweaty, frustrated, disappointed.  And, I heard him,
"Do not disobey me, my whore.  There will be consequences which you will not
like."  I turned to face him, and saw the smile, and hoped that my punishment
was over.  I was soon to discover otherwise.  "Do you think we are done,
Tiffany?  No, we are not.  Now, comes the worst of your punishment.  Luscious
Pammy was just a tease.  Look over at the noisy table, my pet.  I know you were
looking earlier.  Do you see the woman there in the middle of the commotion?"  I
knew exacly who he was talking about.  The loud, butch, gruff lesbian who acted
so in control of all around her.  She was a horible specimen of a woman and he
wanted me to look at her. "Yes, I see her." I spoke.  "Good, now, go to her."
"What??"  I asked, "Go to her and what??"  "Listen, my Tiffany, you will simply
do as you are told, do not question me.  Understood??  Now, walk towards her and
I shall tell you what to do."

It was at that moment when I knew that not being allowed to enjoy Pamela was
minor compared to what I may have to endure that evening.  Everything, from that
moment on, was me on automatic pilot with my Master at the controls.  I did and
said exaclty as he ordered and he knew it was killing me.  He knew I would hate
it.  And he knew I would do it, accept his punishment, and hope to never, ever
disobey him again.  I sauntered over to her table, all sluttly looking with my
sheer blouse, short skirt, and thigh high boots.  The whole table turned to look
at me asa I approached.  "Well, lookie what we have here."  said the butch, "You
look fucking deliscious baby.  Can I taste you?"  And the whole table erupted
with laughter.  As ordered, I said yes, I wanted her to taste me.  That shut her
up, shut them all up, and made me wish I could run.  

She pushed away all her hanger on women and jumped up in front of me.  Roughly
she grabbed my hair and yanked it out of it's holds to fall about my shoulders.
"Ain't you the pretty little bitch."  She said.  "So, what, your old man can't
give ya what ya need so ya come an see Betts!!"  Again, that laughter.  She
pulled my face to hers and I could smell her.  She smelled of beer and
cigarettes and sweat.  She was repulsive.  "C'mon bitch, let's go to my
offfice."  As she pulled me towards a back hallway, I looked up to see that my
Master had disappeared.  I was dying inside.  My Master and I had talked many,
many times over of sharing another woman but it was always a woman like Pamela
whom we would share and control.  He knew I would never, ever want to be
controlled by another woman.  He knew I would hate this, dispise this, detest
this!!  That is exactly why he chose this for my punishment.  It was the
untimate to teach me a valuable lesson.

Betts practically dragged me out the back door and into the alley behind the
bar.  "So, bitch, what do you want?"  I heard my Master's voice again, 'Tell her
anything she does."  I shook my head no, wishing he would stop this, wanting to
beg him to not make this happen, 'TELL HER ANYTHING!!"  And, I did.  She laughed
and pushed me up against the brick wall.  This was too disgusting for words.  "I
know what you want, bitch.  you want Betts to satisfy you like no man can."
And, with that, she ripped off the one button on my blouse and undid my bra.
"Nice rack."  She said as she slid her tongue down to my nipples.  My eyes were
closed.  I was trying to picture Pamela in my mind.  "Open your eyes, Tiffany."
I heard him say, "Look over to your left."  I saw him, in the shadows, watching
this spectacle.  Betts was sucking my breasts, and she lifted my skirt to reveal
my bare, shaved pussy.  She plunged her fingers in and out of me.  And, I wanted
to make her stop, I wanted to control my own body which was beginning to betray
me.  My pussy was getting wet while this beast of a woman manipuated me with her
hands and tongue.  My body was squirming while my mind was begging it to stop.
This woman was controlling me and I hated it - I hated it!!And he knew it and
delighted in it.  

She was on her knees in front of me, she had three fingers in my pussy and one
in my ass and her tongue was expertly toying with my clit.  She was mumbling
something about my being a horny little slut but I wasn't hearing her.  I was
hearing him, him standing there, watching, enjoying.  "Tiffany, if you had not
disobeyed me, that could have been Pamela.  Soft, round, willing Pamela.  We
could have probably shared her, Tiffany.  But, my whore, you disobeyed, and you
have to be punished.  You do understand that, don't you?  I know you, my love.
Yes, my love, I do.  Right now, your body is coming alive.  That butch at your
feet is fucking your pussy and your ass and licking your swollen clit.  It feels
good, doesn't it?  It doesn't matter that she is repulsive, all that matters is
your desires.  Your mind is screaming no but your body is saying yes.  Tonight,
my Tiffany, you will cum while this woman fucks you with her fingers.  Tonight
you will cum not because you beg me to but because I tell you to.  As it should
be, my love."  

Betts was moving faster and harder with her manipulations.  My back was pushed
against the wall but my pussy was thrust forward as she sucked on my clit.  It
did feel so good I could have screamed.  And, all the while, he was there.  He
was watching this punishment which he had so perfectly engineered.  I hated that
this woman was making me feel these things.  I hated that she was so rough and
hard.  I hated the thought of her so near me.  Yet, I could not deny the fact
that my body was enjoying every second of it and that I was there to obey his
command to accept this punishment, completely, fully, as he wished.  Suddenly,
she was up on her feet.  My clit was throbbing from her manipulatioons and yet
she had stopped.  "Come here, bitch."  she said and she pushed me onto the
ground, on all fours.  She slid behind me and undid her pants.  "I'm going to
fuck you from behind, girlie, while I play with my own wet pussy.  What do you
think of that?"  He told me to say yes.  I did.  She slid her fingers in me and
her other hand in herself.  There I was, on the ground, in a back alley being
fucked by this butch woman and all I could think of was him, watching, as my
body bucked and strained to cum.  She was there, seemingly in control, but, in
actuality, it was him who was controlling the whole situation.  I was being
submissive to this creature for him, and only for him.  And, I hated it.  "Cum
you little hot slut bitch."  she said, "Cum with me."  My mind was screaming no,
no, no.  I would not let my body do that while being controlled by a woman.  I
could not. I did not want to.  But, my mind didn't matter.  He was there,
watching, and he said "Cum, Tiffany.  Cum, my whore.  Cum, my love."  And I did.
With this sweaty, smelling, controlling woman forcing me on all fours with her
fingers fucking my pussy and her other hand fucking herself, I came as she did.

She got up, slapped my ass, and laughed.  I could have crawled into a hole had
there been one right there.  "Good slut, you are.  Hope to do this again with
ya.  I'll bet your old man never gave you such pleasure."  Then she zipped up
her pants, gave me another slap, and walked back into the bar.  I stood up and
straightened my clothes as he walked over to me and pulled me into his arms.
"Tiffany, my love, I know that was hard, wasn't it?  You hated that butch bitch.
I know.  And your body was working against your mind.  When does your body and
mind work in harmony, my pet?  When?"  I amswered what I knew to be true, "Only
with you, my Master."   "That is right, my sweet, only with me.  When I am your
Master and you obey me.  You know that is true, don't you?  You know that I love
you and give you all the pleasures you could ever want and ever need.  And, I
give them to you when I know the time is right.  So, my pet, will you disobey me
again and suffer such consequences?"  "No, my Master."  I whispered.  "Oh, my
love, I think you probably shall, some day.  But, for now, you will behave and I
shall reward you tremendously for that.  Always remember, my dearest, you belong
to me, you are mine to control and do with as I please.  And, because of that, I
love you so very much and will only bring you unbelievable pleasures."

I knew he was right, in all that he had said.  I knew this punishment was
necessary to teach me that his will and his desires were of the utmost
importance.  And, as he walked me back to my car, holding me and whispering
sweetly in my ear, I very carefully and very tightly held onto the little piece
of paper in my hand.  It was the piece of paper which Pamela had pressed into my
hand when she left me at the bar and I knew it would hold great pleasures.