worthless lil painslut

my submissive life
2007-12-09 05:10:02 (UTC)

The Agreement

I recently revealed my bdsm inclinations to my new
boyfriend. He found the idea exciting, but had some
reservations. One, he wasn’t as experienced with the scene
and felt he lacked the creativity needed. Two, he wasn’t
comfortable with the idea of inflicting pain and
humiliation on me, even knowing that I enjoyed it. He
asked me if I did bdsm play with my last boyfriend. I
had.

I tried to explain that things did not end well between me
and my last guy. Then again, most relationships don’t end
well, otherwise they wouldn’t end. Nevertheless, my new
boyfriend thought it might be interesting to approach the
old one for some guidance. I was not thrilled with the
idea. My new fella put it this way, I was into pain and
humiliation, what could be more painful and humiliating
then asking my ex-boyfriend to help me and new boyfriend
with our relationship.

My new guy called my ex and told him he wanted to talk
about help with the bdsm stuff. My ex was very amused. He
said he would agree to meet and discuss it, with some
conditions. We had to meet in person, the three of us, at
his place. I had to be handcuffed, gagged, and escorted on
a collar and leash to the meeting. I told my boyfriend I
objected to this, he said it sounded humiliating and if I
really want to add more of that to our relationship, this
was a place to start. I very reluctantly agreed.

We met the next day at my ex’s place. I was cuffed,
gagged, and collared as requested. My ex was grinning ear
to ear when he saw me being led in on a leash. I wanted to
call him a few choice names but the gag prevented me. My
boys introduced themselves to each other. They sat down to
discuss the situation and I was ordered by my ex to kneel
at my new boyfriend’s feet. This may have been a bad idea
on my part.

The conversation generally went as follows. My new guy was
happy to introduce some bdsm play into our relationship,
but didn’t really know what to do. My old guy was willing
to help, but wanted to get something out of it in return.
Finally they came to an agreement:

1. My ex would email a set of instructions for a scene
to my new boyfriend. I was not permitted to read them.
2. My new boyfriend would follow the instructions,
feeling free to add to them as he felt comfortable.
3. Standard safewords would apply and my hard limits
would be respected.
4. Our scene using the instructions would be videotaped
and sent to my ex, as payment for his work.

They thought this was the perfect arrangement because my
new boyfriend didn’t have to worry about his conscience
bothering him because it wasn’t his idea to do this to me.
And because I got the additional humiliation of knowing it
was my ex doing this to me and would get to watch it
afterwards. And because my ex already knew what I liked,
disliked, what toys I had, etc. Based on this twisted
logic, I nodded my consent, again, reluctantly.

We went home and the first set of instructions was waiting
for us the next morning. That night, we decided to try
them out. New boyfriend carefully read the instructions
from ex-boyfriend. He said we would start in 15 minutes
and while he was setting up I should stand in a corner with
my hands behind my back. I obeyed.

After 15 minutes he directed me to the living room and
ordered me to my knees with my hands on my head. I noticed
the digital video camera set up in the corner of the room.
I can’t believe I agreed to this.

“From now until the end of the scene you will call me Sir.
If you fail to do so, you will be punished. You will not
speak unless spoken to. If you forget this, you will be
punished. You will obey all my orders. If you argue with
me about my orders, you will be punished. If you hesitate
to obey my orders, you will be punished. Do you
understand?”

Wow, he spoke more authoritatively than I had ever heard
before. I was aroused already. “Yes Sir.”

“Good, now stand up and strip.”

I didn’t mean to hesitate. It just seemed like we were
jumping right in and it caught me off guard. I guess I was
expecting more directions or some clothing. I wasn’t used
to being totally naked in front of new boyfriend while he
was completely dressed, usually we were evenly matched.
While I was pondering all this I heard –

“You just earned one punishment for hesitating. Strip now
or you will earn a second one.”

Shit. I stood up and began undressing. I couldn’t help
glance at the video camera; I had the strongest urge to
give it the finger, but I resisted. When I was completely
naked I stood looking at new boyfriend, awkwardly awaiting
further instructions.

“You will now receive your first punishment. Next time
don’t hesitate.” He flipped through some printed out pages
until he found what he was looking for. I imagine it was a
list of punishments happily written by ex-boyfriend. I
imagine they weren’t exactly going to be light and playful,
if memory serves.

New boyfriend sat down on the sofa and ordered me to lie
across his lap. Spanking time. “I am going to spank your
ass. Since I’ve never done this before, you will assist me
in using the right amount of force. After each slap, you
will ask me to hit you harder. When the pain becomes
almost unbearable, you will switch to asking me to hit you
again, rather than harder. I will decide how long the
spanking lasts. If you try to manipulate me into going
easy on you, you will receive a much more severe punishment
at a later time. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

The first slap was not as light as I expected, but not
nearly hard enough for a punishment spanking. And the
truth is, I enjoy the pain. “Harder Sir.” Another
slap. “Harder Sir.” Another one. “Harder Sir.” Another
one. “Harder Sir.” Ouch. That was good. “Again Sir.”
Ouch. “Again Sir.” Another one. “Again Sir.” Countless
more until my voice was quivering and I was holding back
tears. “Again Sir.”

“No. I think your pretty ass is red enough for now. But
the next punishment will draw many tears I promise you. So
I suggest you be more obedient from here on out.

“Now back on your knees and hands on your head. Apologize
for being such a disobedient slut.”

I got into position. “I am very sorry Sir for hesitating
to obey your orders and for being such a disobedient slut,
Sir.”

“Good. Now then, the position you are in now is position
number one. Remember it. Anytime I say position one, you
must immediately get into this position. If you forget
this position, you will punished.

“Now stand up. Keep your hands on your head. Spread your
legs. Further. Further. Further.” My legs were now
about four feet apart and starting to ache. “This is
position number two. Remember it. Now get down on your
hands and knees. Knees spread. Further. Further. Head
parallel to the ground, eyes down. Back arched. This is
position number three. Remember it. Now stand up again.
Feet together. Stomach in. Shoulders back. Arms straight
down by your sides. Eyes forward. This is position number
four. Remember it. Do you remember all your positions,
slut?”

“Yes Sir.” At least, I thought so.

“Good, let’s make sure. Position one.” I dropped to my
knees with my hands on my head. “Position two.” Standing,
legs wide apart. “Position three.” Hands and knees, knees
wide. I felt a smack hard on my ass. “Head facing the
ground.” I adjusted. “Position four.” Standing
straight. “Now faster. Position three. Position two.
Position four. Position one. Position three. Position
two. Position one. Position four. Wrong!”

I was on my hands and knees instead of standing straight.
I got confused. “You dumb bitch. You can’t even remember
four simple positions?! Good subs remember over a dozen.
I guess I’ll have to find another way to drill them into
your shitty memory. Go fetch me your riding crop bitch,
and when I say fetch, I mean crawl on your hands and knees
like a dog and bring it back in your mouth like a good
little bitch. And I mean fast. Why are you still not
moving?”

I took off for the riding crop. I guess ex-boyfriend wrote
about it in his email, since I never told new boyfriend
about it. I crawled upstairs and got it out of the closet
and quickly crawled back. New boyfriend took the crop from
me.

“Now get into position one.” I knelt with my hands on my
head. “What position is this?”

“Position one, Sir.”

He lashed me with the crop on my ass. “Say it again.”

“Position one, Sir.”

Another hard lash. “Again, louder.”

“Position one, Sir.”

Another lash. “Continue.”

“Position one, Sir.” Another lash. “Position one, Sir.”
Another lash. “Position one, Sir.” Another lash. My ass
was really starting to hurt. “Position one, Sir.” Another
lash. “Position one, Sir.” Two more.

“Do you think you have a grasp of position one now?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good, now let’s try position two.” I got up and spread my
legs painfully wide, keeping my hands on my head. “What
position is this?”

“Position two, Sir.” This time he lashed the crop again my
right breast, right on my nipple. It really
hurt. “Position two, Sir.” The next lash was on my left
nipple. Ouch. “Position two, Sir.” He alternated between
right and left, a total of ten times.

“Is this position sufficiently committed to your memory?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Position three, now.” I dropped to my hands and knees,
remembering to spread my knees and face down. The lash
struck the back of my thigh.

“Position three, Sir.” Other thigh. “Position three,
Sir.” Again it alternated between my right and left thighs
a total of ten times.

“Will you forget position three again?”

“No Sir.”

“Then let’s try position four.” I stood straight. He
struck my stomach. “Hold that flabby stomach in. Hold
your shoulders back. Try to pretend you have good
posture. Keep your eyes forward, you don’t get to look at
me. Wow, you can’t follow the simplest instructions. We
may need to spend some extra time with this one.” He hit
my stomach again. “Now what position is this?”

“Position four, Sir.” Stomach again. “Position four,
Sir.” I think this went on about twenty times. My stomach
was very sore. He had gotten the hand of the crop very
quickly.

“Do you think you finally have position four committed to
that empty head of yours?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. If you forget one of them again, you will hold it
while I deliver you 40 lashes. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Now let’s work on that poor posture of yours. Go
get two tall glasses filled two-thirds of the way with
water and bring them back here.” I obeyed. He took the
glasses from me. “Position one.” I dropped to my knees
with my hands on my head. “Now extend your arms out to the
sides, palms up.” He placed a glass of water in each hand,
in the center of my palm. “Keep your hands flat, do not
grasp the glass. And more importantly, don’t spill the
water.” And that was it. He stood watching me. I tried
to hold still. He went into the kitchen and came out with
a glass of wine. “I’d offer you a glass my dear, but it
appears you have your hands full.” He laughed.

He sipped his wine and my arms started to grow tired.
Apparently my growing distress started to show on my
face. “Something the matter? Arms tired? It’s barely
been five minutes. My instructions say you should be able
to do this for at least thirty.” Thirty? Now way. “If
you drop either glass before the end of thirty minutes, you
will be punished. One lash for every minute shy of the
mark.” I tightened up but knew I wouldn’t last much
longer. My arms were shaking already. I gritted it out as
long as possible, but eventually my arms wavered too much
and both glasses tumbled and spilled onto the floor. I let
my arms down and rubbed my own shoulders.

“That was terrible. Only nine minutes. That means 21
lashes. Next time you had better last longer or the
punishment will be doubled. Now then, for the punishment,
hold you hands out in front of you, hands up.” He brought
the end of the crop down on my right palm. It stung. Next
was my left palm. Then right. Then left. Then right.
Then left. “How many was that?”

“Six Sir.”

“Six? Can’t you count? That was three. Three on the
right. Three on the left. You have 18 more on each.
Don’t miscount again or I will start over.” He gave me the
full 21 lashes on each palm. My hands were pink and very
sore at the end. It was odd that despite his earlier
hesitation, he was having an easy time with these
punishments.

“Next let’s try another posture exercise. Go get me the
big dictionary.” I obeyed. “Position four.” I stood
straight, stomach in, shoulders back. “Put the dictionary
on your head. You may keep your hands near your head to
stop it if it starts to fall. Now up on your toes. Do not
let your heels touch the ground.” I started to balance the
dictionary and got on my toes. He went to get another
drink of wine. Then he sat down and put on the tv.
Minutes passed. Occasionally he looked over at me and
shouted for me to keep my heels up. Eventually, my legs
started to ache.

“Keep up on your toes!” I tightened my legs but they were
really hurting. I kept pushing the dictionary back on my
head but soon everything was hurting. I felt like it had
been hours. “Stay up on your toes.”

“Please, my legs hurt too much. I can’t do it anymore.”

“That will be a punishment for speaking without
permission. Now back up on your toes or I’ll put tacks
under your heels.” I was gritting my teeth and tears were
forming in my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be
angry at new or ex. After another few minutes of fighting
a losing battle he spoke to me.

“How are you feeling?”

“My legs are on fire.”

“That’s another punishment for forgetting to call me Sir.”
I started to cry. “Do you want to be let down?”

“Yes Sir. Please Sir.”

“What are you willing to do for me?”

“Anything Sir.”

“But I thought you wanted this? You are such a wimp. A
weak little pathetic slut. Keep those heels up! I’ll have
you practice this exercise every day if you don’t stop
whining. So here’s the deal, you can hold this position
for another ten minutes, or spend ten minutes doing
something else, something else you might find rather un-
enjoyable. Which do you want?”

“Please Sir, let me down, I’ll do anything else Sir,
please.”

“Wow, didn’t even ask what I had in mind. I guess you
really are suffering. Very well, you may relax.” I let
the book down and relaxed my legs. I almost
collapsed. “I’m glad you’re feeling better my dear. For
my payment, you get to entertain me for the next ten
minutes.” He sat down in a chair, right in front of the
camera I couldn’t help noticing.

“Go get your second largest dildo.” I obeyed. “Now lay
down in the middle of the floor, on your back, and start
fucking yourself with the dildo. Hard and fast. And while
you’re doing it, you are to repeat the phrase – ‘I am a
worthless fucking painslut’. Do not stop until I tell you
to at the end of the ten minutes. And, while I’m sure this
will arouse the hell out you, you little whore, you may not
orgasm. Understand?”

I dreaded this. Knowing that my ex was going to be able to
watch this. And the dildo in hand was actually a little
painful to use. But I had no choice. “Yes sir.”

“What the fuck are you waiting for, get started.”

I laid down on the floor, facing new and the camera for
ex. I spread my legs and starting fucking myself with the
large dildo. “I am a worthless fucking painslut. I am a
worthless fucking painslut.”

“Louder bitch.”

“I am a worthless fucking painslut! I am a worthless
fucking painslut!”

“Fuck yourself faster. Harder. Make it hurt. Fuck
yourself like the whore you are!”

I am a worthless fucking painslut! I am a worthless
fucking painslut!” I rammed myself with the dildo harder
and harder. I was grunting. I was in pain and
humiliated. And yes, excited and dripping wet.

The show lasted the full 10 minutes until I was ordered to
stop. I was ordered to suck the dildo clean.

“That was to be the finale tonight, but you have earned two
punishments that still need to be delivered.” He flipped
through the printouts again and read what I assume was the
punishment list. “It’s a little late, so we’ll do two
quick ones. Go fetch me three clothespins and a length of
thin rope.” I crawled upstairs and came back with the
requested items in my mouth.

“Now, since you earned these punishments, you can
administer them. Attach one clothespin to each of your
nipples. Attach the rope so it runs between them. Now for
the easy part, hold the center of the rope, and rip the
clothespins off your nipples. Do it now.”

I didn’t exactly hesitate, just took a slow deep breath.
Then, knowing the pain that was to follow, I closed my eyes
and yanked the rope hard. The pins pulled off and I
stifled a scream, almost falling to my knees.

“Good. Now do it again.” Right, two punishments. My
nipples hurt so badly. But I reattached the clothespins
and took another deep breath. I counted a second and
yanked them off again. I let out a small scream this
time. At least it was over.

“Well done. Now attach the other clothespin to your
clit.” I looked at him questioningly. “Why the
confusion? That was just one punishment. Now it’s time
for second. Attach the clothespin to your clit and tie a
length of rope to it.”

I was not happy. But I was afraid to argue. I did as
instructed. “Now hand me the rope. Spread your legs. Put
your hands on your head. If you can take this without
making a sound, I will only do it once. If you make a
sound, you will suffer it twice. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.” I assumed the position and held my breath. He
waited a few seconds and yanked the rope hard. The pin
ripped off my clit, it felt like it ripped my clit off. I
let out a silent scream in that I opened my mouth wide but
made no noise. I thrashed my head back and forth and
breathed deeply. But I was quiet.

“Well done, slut. You have escaped seconds. Now if you
just remember the rules, you can avoid future
punishments.” He came over to me and gave me a long gentle
kiss. Then he walked over and turned the camera off.
Scene one over. Before we went to bed that night he
emailed the video to ex. Tomorrow morning there was
another set of instructions waiting for us.



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