worthless lil painslut

my submissive life
2010-01-02 17:15:36 (UTC)

Training

Master sent me to a professional Dom for some much needed
training. Master told me this Dom would aid me in learning
humility and obedience. I was directed to dress nicely in
panties, bra, a skirt, blouse, and high heels. I was told
my first rule was: speak only when spoken to. Master
warned me not to deliberately provoke this Dom, as his
punishments would not be fun or playful, but rather harsh
and severe. Master dropped me off at the bottom of the
driveway and told me he would be back tomorrow to pick me
up. He then drove away.

I walked up to the large house and knocked on the door. I
heard a voice say “enter.” I opened the door and walked
inside. The door entered into a large room with wooden
floors. On the opposite end a man sat in a large leather
chair. He was not smiling. He gave the impression of an
austere king sitting on a throne. In the center of the
room a two-foot circle had been drawn in black.
Remembering my first rule, I entered the room, but said
nothing.

“Stand in the circle with your hands on your head.” I
walked to the circle, faced the Dom, and placed my hands on
my head.
“Keep your eyes straight ahead. You are standing in the
attention position. Whenever you are in this position you
will always keep your eyes looking straight ahead and
nowhere else. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Sir! You will always address me as Sir. If you ever
speak to me without addressing me as Sir, you will be
penalized. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Speak up.”

“Yes Sir.”

“When you speak to me, you will speak in a loud, clear
voice so I can hear you easily. You will not hesitate to
answer any of my questions. You will not hesitate to
follow my orders. You will obey all my rules. If you
forget a rule or fail to do as you are told, you will be
penalized. My penalties are swift, and severe. Your
Master has approved of all the methods I will use on you.
You have been sent here to learn humility and obedience.
You will leave here knowing how to be a better slave, and
how to better serve your Master. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“After speaking with your Master, we decided that your
name, while here, will be pig-slut. You will refer to
yourself only as pig-slut. You will never speak in the
first person, using the terms I, me, or my. You are not
worthy enough to use them. You are just a pig-slut and
that is how you will refer to yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“What are you?”

“A pig-slut, Sir.”

“What is your name?”

“Pig-slut, Sir.”

“Turn and look at the corner over your right shoulder.” I
looked. Hanging on the wall in the corner was a sign
reading “pig-slut” in red lettering. “That is your
corner. Whenever I tell you to go to your corner you will
crawl to it, and kneel up with your hands behind your back,
and with your nose as close to touching the corner as
possible. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“When in any of these positions, you will not move at all
unless and until I tell you to. If you have an itch, you
may not move to scratch it. If your hair falls in your
face, you will not touch it. If you are in discomfort, you
will ignore it. You will keep your eyes front. You will
not look around. You will not turn your head. You will
keep perfectly still regardless of anything else going on
around you. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Now I want you to drop to your hands and knees and
crawl to your corner, but stop about two feet from it.” I
sunk to my hands and knees and crawled to my corner. “Now
lay down on your stomach with your head one foot away from
the corner.” I laid down on the hardwood floor facing my
corner. “Spread your legs wide open. Slide your skirt and
panties down just below your ass.” I reached back and
pulled my skirt and panties down, revealing my bare
ass. “Keep your hands at your sides. You will remain in
this lowly and vulnerable position for the next hour. You
may not move except you may turn your head from one side to
the other if your neck starts causing you pain. But you
will keep your legs spread and your hands at your sides.
You will keep your eyes open and facing the wall. Do not
attempt to look around. Do not fall asleep. Do not
speak.” I heard his footsteps walking away.

An hour is a long time when you are laying on a hardwood
floor staring at a wall. It is a position you cannot help
feel lowly and worthless in. I felt vulnerable in my
skirt, with my legs spread, and ass on display. And yet I
could not see anyone and got the feeling I was being
ignored. It was hard to keep staring at the wall and not
move. My discomfort grew fast but I was afraid to move and
earn this Dom’s wrath. I could see how this was supposed
to help me learn humility and obedience. Time passed
slowly.

Eventually I heard footsteps approach again. “I am now
going to lash your ass with a cane. You will continue to
hold this position and not move. This is not a
punishment. It is part of your training. After each lash
you will say, ‘This pig-slut thanks you, Sir.’” Do you
understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

The first lash came down fast and hard. There was no light
warm up first, just a hard, painful stroke. “This pig-slut
thanks you, Sir.”

“Louder, pig-slut.”

A second lash cut into my ass. Despite the pain, this time
I said loudly, “This pig-slut thanks you, Sir.”

A third. “This pig-slut thanks you, Sir.”

A fourth. “This pig-slut thanks you, Sir.”

Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eighth. Ninth. Tenth. “This
pig-slut thanks you, Sir.”

“Keep your skirt and panties where they are. Kneel up into
your corner as I described to you before.” I shuffled up
on my knees and forward into the corner with my nose as
close to touching as I could. I held my hands behind my
back and my well-lashed ass on display. I heard him
walking away again. I kept my eyes forward staring into
the corner. I was in pain, and tired of looking at
nothing.

I’m not sure how long I was left kneeling in the corner. I
was quickly losing track of time. Eventually, I heard
footsteps again. “Pull up your skirt and panties. Then
crawl back to the circle and remain on your hands and
knees.” I pulled up my skirt and panties, even their light
material hurt my ass. I crawled back to the circle. I
remained on my hands and knees staring straight ahead.

“Stand at attention.” I stood up and placed my hands
behind my head.

“Back to your hands and knees.” I fell down to my hands
and knees.

“Stand at attention.” I obeyed.

“Back to your hands and knees.”

“Stand at attention.” Countless times. Attention. Hands
and knees. Attention. Hands and knees. I was getting
tired. Eventually it ended.

“Stand at attention. Now remove your skirt and panties.”
I obeyed, though it felt awkward to be standing half-naked
in front of this Dom who was essentially a total stranger.
He reached out and roughly grabbed my cunt, squeezing it
painfully. “Despite what you may think, this is not your
cunt. This is your Master’s cunt. This cunt does not
exist to give you pleasure or satisfaction. This cunt
exists solely to please your Master. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. But let’s reinforce the point. Lay down on your
back.” I did. He gave me two telephone books to place
under my ass, arching my back and lifting my cunt higher in
the air. “Keep your legs spread as wide as possible. You
will not close your legs at all no matter what happens.”
He handed me a vibrator. “Go ahead pig-slut. Put the
vibrator right on your clit. Keep it there until you are
almost ready to cum. When you reach that point, you will
tell me immediately.”

He stood directly in front of me. Watching me. I never
felt as exposed as I did right then. Naked from the waist
down, spread and on display for a stranger. But I did not
want to disobey him. I reached the vibrator to my clit.
The vibrations felt wonderful and my body started
responding quickly. Very shortly, a felt an orgasm
approaching. “I, um, I mean, this pig-slut is close to
cumming, Sir.”

Without saying a word the Dom ripped the vibrator out of my
hands and started whipping my exposed and aroused cunt. He
was using a heavy, leather strap. He brought it down over
and over again, hard, onto my cunt. I wasn’t expecting
it. The fact that my clit was swollen from arousal made it
extremely sensitive. I had to work hard to keep my legs
open when my natural inclination was to close them to
protect myself. The lashes kept coming and I was soon
shouting from the pain. Shortly after I began crying out
in pain, he stopped.

He handed me the vibrator again. “Use it. Tell me again
when you are close to cumming.” I didn’t really want to.
I was already so sore. But again, I was afraid to disobey
him. I brought the vibrator to my clit. It took a little
longer because of the pain, but eventually I felt myself
approaching a climax.

“This pig-slut is close to cumming again, Sir.” Again he
yanked the vibrator away from me and began whipping my cunt
hard with the leather strap. In much shorter time I was
again yelling and crying in pain. Eventually he stopped
and again handed me back the vibrator.

“Use it.” I really, really didn’t want to. I didn’t speak
but was pleading with him with my eyes. “Do it now. And
when we are done you will be punished for hesitating to
obey my order. Do it.”

Shit. I again pressed the vibrator against my sore cunt
and clit. It hurt. Nevertheless, I was soon close to
cumming. Despite the pain I was also feeling sexually
frustrated. “This pig-slut is close to cumming again,
Sir.” For the third time he pulled the vibrator away from
me and started whipping my cunt. I was immediately
screaming and crying in pain. I wanted to beg him to stop
but was afraid to speak without permission. This whipping
lasted a little longer than the others until I was crying
profusely. Only then did it stop. I was terrified that he
was going to hand me back the vibrator again. Never in my
life did I dread a vibrator the way I did in that moment.
Mercifully, I was not handed it again.

“You shouldn’t be crying. I wasn’t whipping your cunt; I
was whipping your Master’s cunt. You deserve the pain for
attempting to pleasure yourself. That cunt does not exist
for your pleasure, but for your Master’s. It serves to
pleasure him whether it be sexually, or by inflicting
pain. It’s His cunt and he can do whatever he desires to
it. Your pleasure is in knowing that your Master has been
pleasured. If it pleases him to torture His cunt, then you
should be happy knowing your suffering pleases him. That
is the only type of pleasure you get from His cunt –
allowing it to serve him. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Do you?”

“Yes Sir!”

“Good. Do you wish to use the vibrator again?”

“No Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Now go to your corner.”

I rolled onto my hands and knees and crawled back to my
corner. I was still half-naked and my cunt was aching
beyond words. As I kneeled in the corner with my hands on
my head, I slowly stopped crying and tried to compose
myself. I wanted to wipe the tears from my face but I knew
I wasn’t allowed to move at all. And I already had one
punishment coming to me.

Eventually my temporary Dom spoke again. “Return to the
circle.” He didn’t specify so I erred on the side of
crawling back. I think I guessed right. In front of the
circle he had placed a very small stool with a pen and pad
of paper. Also, just in front of the stool was a wooden
dowel laying in the floor.

“Kneel on it.” I did. It was uncomfortable for my
knees. “True punishments should not cause you any
enjoyment. True punishments seek to correct and stop bad
behavior. For a pig-slut who enjoys pain as much as you
do, it would require a dangerous amount of pain to be an
effective punishment. You require more psychological
punishments to help you learn your place. On the pad of
paper in front of you, you will write the following
sentence: ‘This pig-slut is being punished for hesitating
to obey an order.’ You will write that sentence
repeatedly. Write it neatly, demonstrating the proper
respect for the punishment. Do not stop until I tell you
to. And do not move.”

I picked up the pen and began writing. My Dom walked away
again. The discomfort in my knees was quickly turning to
pain. I tried to ignore it and focus on my writing. The
stool I was leaning on was very low and my back was soon
aching too.

This pig-slut is being punished for hesitating to obey an
order. This pig-slut is being punished for hesitating to
obey an order. This pig-slut is being punished for
hesitating to obey an order. This pig-slut is being
punished for hesitating to obey an order. This pig-slut is
being punished for hesitating to obey an order. This pig-
slut is being punished for hesitating to obey an order.
This pig-slut is being punished for hesitating to obey an
order. This pig-slut is being punished for hesitating to
obey an order…

Again I was losing track of time. I didn’t know how long I
was going to have to continue. My hand was tired. My
knees were aching. My back was aching. I continued
filling the pages but was having trouble concentrating. I
desperately wanted this torture to end. The words were
filling the pages and running through my head. I began to
realize the consequence of my disobedience. Maybe I did
deserve this.

I had filled almost half the pad before my Dom returned.
He did not immediate tell me to stop so I continued
writing. Eventually he told me to stop. “You may now
apologize.”

“This pig-slut is very sorry for hesitating to obey your
order, Sir. This pig-slut will never hesitate to obey one
of your orders again, Sir.”

My Dom picked up the note pad I had been writing on and
examined my lines. “Do you think you performed this
punishment well?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Really? I don’t. These lines are sloppy. Some of the
writing is illegible. Words have been crossed out. The
writing gets worse towards the end. There is no
consistency. These lines are not demonstrative of a
humble, obedient sub trying to please her master. You
should be striving to be perfect in all things for your
master. You should constantly be striving to demonstrate
that you are worthy of him. Are you worthy of your master?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Really? Not from what I’m looking at. A true sub is
humble. You are still proud and arrogant. A true sub
wants to be perfect in every thing she does for her
master. These lines, a simple writing task, are far from
perfect. You should have tried to write each line with
clean, neat handwriting and with each line looking just as
perfect as the one before it. You put no effort into them
at all. Attention to detail is crucial. Where was your
attention to detail? If your task is to scrub a toilet,
then you should want to scrub every inch until it shines.
If your task is to write lines, then you should want every
word, every letter to look perfect. Did you do put that
sort of effort into these lines?”

“No Sir.”

“No indeed. For your next lesson you will have an
opportunity to pay more attention to detail.” My Dom took
away the painful wooden dowel I had been kneeling on and
replaced it with uncooked rice. Kneeling on the rice was a
different, but equally painful, position. He gave me a
clean pad of paper and a new pen. “This is not a
punishment. This is a task. You will attempt to
demonstrate your ability to pay attention to detail and
ignore discomfort while focusing on the task at hand. You
will write the following sentence: ‘This pig-slut will
strive to be a better slave for its Master.’ Write the
line repeated until I tell you to stop. The last line
should be as neat as the first. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Begin.” He walked away. I began writing. The fresh pain
in my sore knees, the ache in my hand and in my back, all
served as a torturous distraction. Still, I tried to
concentrate and write neatly.

This pig-slut will strive to be a better slave for its
Master. This pig-slut will strive to be a better slave for
its Master. This pig-slut will strive to be a better slave
for its Master. This pig-slut will strive to be a better
slave for its Master. This pig-slut will strive to be a
better slave for its Master. This pig-slut will strive to
be a better slave for its Master…

I was honestly trying to write well, but I was in so much
pain. Eventually I heard my Dom come back in. He did not
speak so I continued writing. I heard him walk behind me.
I then felt him attach two clamps to my pussy lips. I
tried to ignore him and continue my task. Soon I felt a
tingling sensation in my pussy lips. The tingling grew and
became painful. It was electricity. I could feel him
turning the power up. He turned it up until a small cry
escaped my lips. He then stopped turning it up but left it
where it was at. The new pain was impossible to ignore. I
tried so hard to keep writing neat, legible lines but I
couldn’t even hold still.

After several minutes of this fresh torture, he told me
stop. But he did not stop the current running to my
pussy. He left me suffering while he examined my work.

“These lines are slightly better. But they still get very
sloppy towards the end. I will suggest to your Master that
you repeat this task often until you show more
improvement. Now, put your hands on your head.” I
obeyed. He turned the power up even more on my pussy until
I cried out even more.

“Now we will test your concentration. You need to learn to
focus through the pain. What is 2 plus 2?”

Through a shaky voice I managed to say, “Four Sir.”

“What is 4 times 3?”

In between cries I answered, “12 Sir.”

“What is 12 plus 29?”

My pussy hurt so much. I could barely hear him let alone
concentrate. “I, I, I don’t know Sir. Owww.”

“You will be punished for referring to yourself as ‘I’
instead of pig-slut. Now continue answering my questions.
This task will not end, that is to say the electricity will
not be turned off, until you answer all the problems
correctly. What is 12 plus 29?”

“Um, owww, um, 30-, no, 41 Sir.”

“Correct. What is 41 minus 23?”

I was crying. “18 Sir?”

“Tell me, don’t ask me.”

“18 Sir.”

The quiz continued. I think he asked me a total of 20
problems. They were all easy. But I was in a lot of
pain. Finally, he turned off the power. My face was
soaked with sweat and tears.

“You will of course remember you have a penalty coming.”

“Yes Sir.”

“What did you do wrong?”

“This pig-slut referred to itself in the first person, Sir.”

“That was a violation of one of my rules and you deserve to
be penalized for it, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir.”

“You will repeat the following sentence: ‘This pig-slut is
not allowed to refer to itself in the first person.’ You
will repeat the sentence 20 times exactly. You will keep
count in your head. Will you do this while suffering an
even higher amount of electricity to your pussy. If you
repeat the sentence inaccurately, or lose count, you will
start over. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Begin.”

He turned the current up until I was screaming. I began
screaming “This pig-slut is not allowed to refer to itself
in the first person!” I tapped my fingers against my head
to try and keep count. I was screaming and crying while
repeating the sentence. When my count reached 20, I
stopped.

“Was that 20?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Are you sure, pig-slut?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Correct.” He turned off the electricity. I almost
collapsed. “I hope you will not forget that rule again.”
Me too. “Now go to your corner.”

I crawled to my corner and kneeled facing it. I was
beginning to hate this corner. I don’t know how long he
left me there. My knees were killing me from the constant
torture to them. But otherwise, I was calm. Eventually he
called me back to the circle.

“You will now remove your blouse and bra.” I obeyed. I
was now completely naked in front of my Dom. He stared at
my tits for a while without saying anything. It made me
surprisingly uncomfortable. Then he reached out and picked
them up in his hands, as if weighing them. “Nice and
large. Whose tits are these?”

“These tits belong to this pig-slut’s Master, Sir.”

“And does your Master enjoy torturing his tits?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Put your hands behind your head.” I obeyed. He took a
black marker and wrote directly on my tits – ‘pig’ on
one, ‘slut’ on the other. “This is a permanent marker.
You will have a constant reminder of your new name for at
least a couple of weeks before it fades. By that time,
your Master may have decided to tattoo or brand the words
there, as is his right. Right?”

“Yes Sir.” Although the thought of having ‘pig-slut’
permanently written on my tits was somewhat upsetting.

He continued lifting and squeezing my tits. “Of course,
only women have tits. Pig-sluts have something else.
These don’t even look like tits to me. They are fat and
sagging. They look more like what an animal would have.
They look like udders, don’t they?”

I was embarrassed, but what could I say? “Yes Sir.”

“I think they are udders. That’s what a pig-slut would
have. From now on, and until your Master says otherwise,
you will refer to these as udders. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“What are these?”

“They are udders, Sir.”

“Does your Master enjoy torturing his udders?”

“Yes Sir.”

“And does it please you when your Master enjoys himself by
torturing his udders?”

“Yes Sir.”


To be continued...