worthless lil painslut

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2011-09-05 19:11:32 (UTC)

Punishment weekend

All weekend long the only chair I’m allowed to sit in is a small, plastic, Fisher-Price, kid’s chair. The seat is only about a foot off the ground and I look and feel ridiculous sitting in it. I am not allowed any clothes. My only jewelry is a pacifier hanging around my neck by a string, which I am occasionally make to suck on like a baby. I am not allowed to speak except when spoken to. If I need to request something, like to use the bathroom or for a sip of water, I have to raise my hand and wait to be called on. I have been a naughty bitch recently, and this weekend I am going to be punished for it.

My punishment weekend began Friday night as soon I got home from work. I was immediately stripped and told to sit in my kiddie chair with my pacifier in my mouth. In this absurd position, I am given a notebook and pencil and told to write an essay on why I am being punished. When I am finished, I give it my Dom to read. He is not impressed. He scolds me like a child telling me my work is sloppy and insincere. He orders me to hold my hands out in front of me. He takes a thick leather strap and lashes my hands 10 times. He then tears up my essay and hands me back the notebook to redo it.

I rewrite the essay and try to do better. I again hand it to my Dom to read. He is again unimpressed. Once again I am scolded and my hands lashed. Once again my essay goes into the trash I am ordered to write a new one. Finally, this third one is acceptable to my Dom. He allows me to remove the pacifier from my mouth to read it to him aloud. Having to speak the words out loud while he looks down on me adds to my humiliation. When I am done, my chair is turned to the wall and the pacifier goes back in my mouth. I spend most of the rest of the night seated on my kiddie chair, sucking my pacifier, staring at the wall. I am also sent to bed without dinner.

Just before going to sleep, my Dom prepares me for bed. I am given an entire 32 ounce bottle of water and ordered to drink it all. My Dom inserts the largest butt plug we own into my ass. The combination of which will make sleeping very uncomfortable and difficult. I am tied spread-eagle to the bed.

By morning, my ass was killing me and I desperately need to pee. When my Dom eventually came in and untied me I immediately raised my hand. “Yes?”

“Please may I pee, Sir?”

“No.”

“Sir, I have to go very badly.”

“Shut up. You were only given permission to speak once, not twice. A further example of your disobedience and lack of self-control. You will just have to find a way to hold it.”

He orders me to kneel in front of him with my knees spread wide. He hands me my essay from last night and orders me to read it aloud to him. I do. I still really need to pee and kneeling with my knees apart makes it that much harder to hold it. I look up at him hoping that he will let me use the bathroom soon. Instead he orders me read my essay out loud again. I obey. I’m squirming because of how badly I need to go. He ignores my discomfort and tells me to read it again. I’m seriously worried about having an accident. I read it for the third time, practically in tears. Still not satisfied, I’m ordered to read it a fourth time and a fifth time. Now practically doubled-over and in tears I am made to read it once last time. Finally satisfied with my level of urgency and distress, I am granted permission to pee.

I run to the bathroom. My Dom stops me from closing the door and explains that privacy is a right that I am not entitled to this weekend. He watches while I relieve myself, my need to go outweighing my embarrassment. When I am done, he bends me over and removes the butt plug. He orders me to wash it, promising that I will be wearing it again later.

I cook my Dom breakfast. I sit on my kiddie seat sucking my pacifier and watching as he eats. When he is done, I’m led to my breakfast, a bowl of cold oatmeal placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. I kneel in front of the bowl and put my face in it and eat. It is disgusting and impossible to eat without making a mess. I am ordered to eat it all and lick the bowl clean. I end up with dried oatmeal all over my face. I am directed to wash the dishes, but not allowed to wash my face. Discomfort and humiliation are the hallmark of my punishment weekend.

My Dom having had a delicious breakfast, he is ready to let the pain and suffering part of the weekend begin. He ties me bent over the dining room table. He lays in front of me his belt, the paddle, the cane, the riding crop, and a flogger. “Your ass is going to get 30 strokes with each implement. That’s 150 strokes total. We’ll start with the easiest one and work our way up to the hardest. I’ll be nice and give you a 5 minute break between implements. You will be obedient and count each stroke and thank me at the end of each implement. Any questions?”

“No Sir.”

“Good. Let’s begin.” He started with the flogger, then moved to the belt, then the riding crop, then the paddle, and ended with the cane. I did my best to count and thank him, though by the end I was crying pretty hard. My ass had never taken a beating that hard all at once. He left me tied to table for a while afterwards to calm down. When he finally did untie me, he ordered me to go sit in my kiddie chair.

My ass was so sore, the last thing I wanted to do was sit on it. Without thinking, I spoke. “Please no, Sir. I can’t sit. It hurts too much.”

“Excuse me?! Did I miss something? Did I give you permission to speak?” I don’t respond. “Did I?!”

“No Sir.”

“Bend back over that table!” I do. He takes his belt and begins to lash my already throbbing ass. He lashes me another 30 times. I am once again crying. “Now get your ass into your chair or you’ll get another 30 with the cane.”

I walk to my chair and gingerly lower myself into it. Sitting is excruciating. I keep my feet on the floor and keep pushing down on them to lift the weight off my ass. My Dom sees this and is not having it. To prevent it, he ties my feet to the rear legs of the chair and ties my hands behind me. I am left with all my weight resting on my aching ass. To prevent my whining, he shoves my pacifier back into my mouth.

After about an hour of sitting on my punished ass, I’m untied and allowed to get up. My Dom has a list of chores to keep my occupied for the next couple of hours – laundry, vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing the bathroom, etc. Of course, as I’m also being punished, it’s not quite that simple. First, I am put into a pair of 4 inch stiletto heels. Then he reinserts my large butt plug. Then I’m given additional instructions – whatever I’m doing, when I hear my Dom ring a bell, I must immediately stop and go to where he is. Once there, I should expect some quick administration of pain. Then return to my chores.

I start with the laundry. Before I could even start the first load, the bell rings. I go to my Dom and he has me kneel in front of him while he slaps my face, hard, 5 times. I return to the laundry. Less than 10 minutes later, the bell rings again. I stop what I’m doing and go to my Dom. He attaches a very tight and painful clamp to my right nipple and sends me back to my chores. 10 minutes later the bell rings again. I go to my Dom and he removes the painful clamp and reattaches it to my left nipple. For the next 2 hours, this process is repeated. Each nipple clamped for 10 minutes at a time, the pain growing with each turn. Moreover, my feet are beginning to ache from the running back and forth across the house.

Finally, the bell rings but my nipples are spared. I am relieved to have the clamp removed and set down. Instead, my Dom has me remove my shoes and whips the soles of my feet with the riding crop. He then has me put back on my heels and return to my work. The next ring of the bell has him torturing my nipples again, lashing them with the riding crop this time. I am in pain and tired from the chores. While scrubbing the bathroom, he interrupts me over a dozen times, ringing the damn bell every couple of minutes. Each time I go to him he whips either my feet or my nipples. Both have me crying in pain.

When I’m finally done all the chores, I’m exhausted and aching. My Dom refuses to let me take off my painful high heels and instead sends me stand in the corner while he eats a little late lunch. I get no lunch. When he is done eating he asks me whether I would rather be rid of the high heels or butt plug. It’s a tough call because they are both killing me. I finally choose the high heels.

“But this weekend is about punishing you for your many misbehaviors. So why would I remove either? Haven’t you earned your suffering? Don’t you deserve the pain you are in?”

“Yes Sir. But my feet hurt so much.”

“I’m sure they do. That’s the point. And you are going to take a great deal more pain from me before this weekend is over. But I’ll be a little nice. I won’t remove the plug or the shoes, but I’ll help you forget about them.”

Standing in my torturous heels he tied me with my legs spread wide apart and arms behind my back. He held up a single clamp and asked, “Right or left?”

Right or left what I wasn’t sure. “Right.”

He attached the clamp to my right pussy lip and started hanging weights from it. He hung enough so that I started groaning in pain. “Now I’m going to leave you here to endure this for a little while. Then I’m going to come back and add a little bit more weight. Then a little more. You get the idea. Now I want you to consider this – your pussy lip is just skin without the aid of muscle. This means, when it gets stretched out, there is no way to get it back into shape. It will stay stretched out forever. As you can feel, I’m just stretching one of your little lips. And I’m going to continue to work on it the rest of the weekend. Now, at the end of this weekend it will be just a little longer than the other. Maybe not too noticeable to anyone other than you and me. But the next time you misbehave, I will do it again. And again. And again. So the more you misbehave, the more deformed you will become. Contemplate that along with your suffering. I’ll be back a little later to increase the weight.”

True to his word my Dom left me standing in my heels, still aching from the plug, and feeling the painful stretch of my right pussy lip. He returned later and added more weight. Then later with more. I was eventually crying from the pain in my pussy lip and the ache in my feet. I was also terribly afraid of ending up deformed. I wanted so much to beg him to stop, but I knew that speaking without permission would only add to my punishment. So I endured it with tears and sobs only.

This particular torment lasted a good part of the afternoon. When my Dom finally relented and released me from my bonds and suffering, it was with the promise of redoing it all again tomorrow. He removed my heels and the weighted clamp, but not the plug. While he prepares dinner I am sent once again to my kiddie chair, sitting on my ass still sore from my earlier spanking and the butt plug. He gives me another pencil and notebook and has me write repeatedly, “This naughty pig-slut’s pussy lip will be stretched every time it misbehaves.” I write non-stop until dinner is ready.

While my Dom eats his deliciously smelling dinner, I am on m hands and knees worshiping his feet with my tongue. I hate feet in general and having to lick his is a task I genuinely hate. He warns me to do I good job or I may never get the dreaded plug out of my ass. I obey. He takes his time eating so his feet get a very thorough cat bath. Finally he finished and I am allowed to stop.

He leads me into the kitchen where my dinner awaits me on the floor. It’s a bowl containing a mixture of my least favorite foods – brussel sprouts, asparagus, raw onions, oysters, hard boiled eggs, etc. Despite my hunger, I would rather do anything than eat this. My Dom forces me to me knees in front of the bowl and ties my hands behind my back. He sets a clock in front of me. “You will eat ever bite of food in that bowl. I don’t care how much you hate it; you will find a way to eat it. I suggest you don’t take too long. For every minute it takes you to finish your dinner, you will get two lashes with the razor strap on your pussy. So, five minutes equals ten lashes, 30 minutes equals 60 lashes. Enjoy.”

I know my Dom’s threat is real and I remember how painful the razor strap is. Nevertheless, the taste and smell of the food makes me gag before I even eat a bite. I slowly lower my head to the bowl and try to eat. I can barely swallow and the ticking clock in front of me isn’t helping. By the time I am done, I can barely resist the urge to vomit. My Dom checks the clock. “Well slut, the good news is that you finished your dinner and I am going to remove the butt plug. The bad news is that you took 17 minutes to eat and now have 34 strokes of the razor strap coming to that filthy pussy of yours.”

True to his word my Dom finally removed the plug that had been tormenting my ass all day. I feared my asshole was now permanently stretched. He also wasted little time tying me in a diaper position, on my back with my legs up and back and spread wide, leaving my pussy very exposed and vulnerable. “You will count each stroke and thank me for it. Failure to do so, or losing count, will result in us starting back at the beginning. Understand, slut?”

“Yes Sir.”

The first lash came down on my pussy like a lash of fire. My Dom was not going easy on me at all. I screamed. “One, thank you Sir!” The next lash was harder than the first. “Oowwwww!!! Two, thank you Sir!!!” Each lash felt like it was ripping my pussy to shreds. I was screaming and crying with each stroke. After the last lash I was barely coherent. “Th-th-th-thirty-f-f-four, th-th-th-thank you, S-s-s-Sir.”

“How does that little pathetic pussy of yours feel now, slut?”

“It h-h-hurts, Sir.”

“Good, then we’re almost done with it for the night.” His words sent chills down my spine. He left and came back with his large, strong, vibrating wand. It was the last thing I wanted anywhere near my painfully, throbbing pussy. I began shaking my head. “That’s right, slut. You’re pussy is going to suffer for me a little more. I’m sure the vibrations from this wand will be agonizing for your pussy right now. But you will just have to deal with it. I want to see you cum for me, with your red pussy burning, tears covering your face; you will suffer until you cum for me. The longer it takes, the more you suffer.”

He turned the wand on high and held it tight against my aching pussy. The vibrations felt like I was being beaten with a jackhammer. I was again screaming and crying. My Dom encouraged me on by telling me what a pathetic, naughty slut I was and how much I deserved to suffer for being such a disobedient, fat, pig, bitch. I sobbed while the vibrations and his words worked their magic. Eventually, my body responded and I had an incredibly violent and painful orgasm. My Dom held the wand tight against my pussy for the duration, making me ride it out as long as possible, increasing my suffering.

When it was over, I thought I would be released. I was wrong. He put the wand away but left me tied up. “Now it’s time for my fun.” He unzipped his pants and began to roughly fuck me in my aching pussy. He had me repeat, ‘this pig-slut thanks you for punishing it, Sir’ for the duration. His punishment fucking hurt, but I knew I deserved it, and my thanking him was sincere. He rewarded me by squirting his cum all over body.

When he was done, he finally untied me. I was in too much pain to even stand up. He mercifully allowed me to crawl to my bedroom. He did not allow me to wash. He wanted his cum and my tears to remind me during the night of my misdeeds. He tied me to the bed and spit in my face before turning off the light and leaving me to try and sleep.

When morning came I was finally allowed 15 minutes to use the bathroom and clean myself up. My entire body ached from the previous day’s activities. I knew that I had several more hours to go before my punishment was over.

Down in the kitchen, my Dom told me how proud he was of me for enduring yesterday’s punishments so well. Of course, that wouldn’t spare me what he already had planned for today. But it was nice to hear.

I again sat in my kiddie chair, facing the wall, while he ate his delicious breakfast. When he was done, I again ate my cold oatmeal from a bowl on the floor like a dog.

The first activity of the day was round two of my pussy lip stretching. I was tied standing with my legs spread. My arms were tied behind me. My right pussy lip was tied to my right, big toe. The rope was shortened so I had to stand in a squat. My arms were tied to a hook in the ceiling which prevented me from simply dropping to my knees. Thus was my predicament bondage – squatting so as to spare my pussy lip put tremendous strain on my leg muscles. As they tired, I would try to stand up more, which would stretch my pussy lip further and further and more and more painfully.

My Dom sat nearby with a book to listen to my suffering, and occasionally look up to enjoy the agony on my face. He offered the rare word of support, but telling me how many inches my lip was stretched and how much longer it looked than the left one. He loved forcing me to torture myself. He kept this one going for at least an hour, until I was on the verge of collapsing.

When he untied me, he measured my pussy lips and showed me the noticeable difference in length. He took a picture of them and promised to send me copies of it on a regular basis, to remind me of what would happen the next time I misbehaved.

My nipples were next to suffer. My Dom wanted to watch a football game so each quarter he had a different task to keep me occupied and out of his way. For the first, he clamped each of my nipples. Then he tied each clamp to my corresponding big toe, again tying them short enough that I had to remain squatting or bent over to avoid pulling my nipples too hard. My ankles were attached to a spreader bar and my wrists were tied behind me. Thus hobbled, I was given the simple order to walk – walk back and forth across the length of the house, non-stop. Each step had me pulling and stretching and torturing my own nipples. It lasted the full first quarter.

The second quarter had my ass suffering. The fact that it was already bruised and sore from yesterday didn’t matter to my Dom in the slightest. My head was enclosed in a hood. My hands were still tied behind me. My feet were tied together and I was laid across my Dom’s lap, ass up. For the entire quarter, my ass was spanked. He used his hand plus a variety of implements. When his team was doing well, my ass got mostly light and playful slaps. When his team was doing poorly, my ass got pounded hard. The hood and gag kept me from disturbing my Dom with my crying.

Half-time gave my Dom time enough to get me set up for my third quarter suffering – a ride on the wooden pony. Again, that my pussy was still sore from yesterday was ignored. I was positioned on the pony with my toes just barely touching the floor. My legs were already exhausted from the earlier squats, so it didn’t take long before I gave up trying to stand on my toes. Soon my entire body weight was crushing my pussy and I was crying.

Finally, the fourth quarter arrived. The teams were tied. This time I was put into a simple hog-tie. I was also given a promise – if my Dom’s team won, I would be spared further punishment before lunch, and I would be allowed to eat a yummy meal at the table with my Dom. If his team lost, I would receive a full body whipping with the flogger before being made to once again worship my Dom’s feet with my tongue while he ate lunch.

Sadly, his team lost. I was tied spread eagle and my entire body felt the sting of the flogger. Clearly, he was angry about losing the game. I wonder if he had money riding on it. He then ate his lunch while I licked his feet clean. I got no other lunch.

My Dom was feeling a little frisky after lunch. He pulled out a squirt gun. I opened my mouth wide as he took aim. I soon learned the squirt gun wasn’t filled with water, but with hot sauce. It burned my mouth. He then ordered me to bend over and spread my ass and pussy. He squirted the hot sauce at my asshole and pussy. I was on fire. My Dom watched me squirm around trying to find relief. He smiled and laughed at me and occasionally ordered me to assume another position for a few more squirts in my holes.

After watching me squirm and dance for him for a while, he finally decided to grant me some relief. He led me to the shower and turned it on – cold! He forced me into the freezing cold shower and refused to let me out. I hate the cold and was begging for mercy. Oops! I forgot I wasn’t allowed to speak without permission!

“You stupid bitch! You only had a few simple rules to remember and obey this weekend and you couldn’t even do that right. I was going to ease up a bit these last few hours, but not now. Apparently you haven’t learned shit.” He left me suffering in the cold shower another several minutes. He then pulled me out by the hair and dragged me, still soaking wet, to the kitchen.

He laid me on my back on the center of the kitchen floor. He cuffed my wrists in front of me and fastened a large ball-gag to my mouth. He then got something out of the freezer – it was a large, ice-dildo. Frozen in the center of it was the key to the cuffs. “So you don’t like the cold, huh? Well that sucks for you. Because you are going to have to fuck yourself with this ice-cock in order to undo the cuffs. Now get started.” He handed me the ice-dildo and stood in front me, watching me. I reluctantly took the ice-cock and slowly inserted it into my cunt. It was freezing! I was shivering. Shivering and crying on the floor I continued to fuck myself with the ice. My Dom stood watching me and mocking my suffering. Somehow my pussy was both numb and burning in pain by the time the key came loose and I was able to free myself.

My Dom removed my gag and told me lick up the big puddle of water and pussy juice that had accumulated on the floor. He then squirted a large amount of hot sauce into my pussy, “to warm you up.” I was burning and freezing and miserable.

My Dom shoved the ball-gag back in my mouth and the butt plug back up my ass. He sat me on the kiddie chair with a large notebook and set of pencils. He then put on the table in front of me a large dictionary. He had me write down a list of words: pig, cow, dog, dirt, urine, garbage, fat, ugly, slut, whore, bitch, stupid, pathetic, bad, and punish. I was to handwrite, verbatim, the dictionary definition of each of those 15 words. Then rewrite them, in full, 100 times.

There was no way to finish the task by dinnertime, or even by bedtime. As the hours passed, my hand, ass, back, and jaw began to ache. I was bored, tired, and in pain. My Dom came to check on my progress about once an hour. He said nothing to me, just looked over my worked and walked away again. I continued writing while he ate dinner. I went hungry for the second time that day.

By bedtime I was still not done. My Dom was disappointed in me for not being able to work faster. I was given the choice of staying up all night to finish the job, or accept a painful whipping on my hands and feet and then be allowed to go to bed. I couldn’t possibly sit there any longer and I just wanted this entire punishment weekend to be over. I opted for the later. Kneeling in front of him with my palms raised, he whipped my hands 50 times with his belt. Then I knelt on a chair with my feet flexed out behind me so he could beat them with a riding crop, also 50 times each. I cried.

I was told that the weekend didn’t technically end until morning so my punishment weekend would continue through the night. I would go to sleep hungry. I would also be sleeping with the painful butt plug still in place, the large ball-gag still in place, and hog-tied on the kitchen floor.

Perhaps the painful lessons of this weekend would remind me to be better behaved in the upcoming week.

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