Who is the Master?

It's a raucous celebration for a friend's 40th birthday. She and her
Master are guests, along with many of their oldest and dearest
friends. Though she is indeed his submissive, they keep their special
relationship a secret, and she is always allowed free rein at such
gatherings. The party is a huge success, full of laughing stories and
shared fond memories. The group has already sung the obligatory
off-key version of Happy Birthday, offered toasts, and cheered the
opening of a few naughty presents. As the evening continues, everyone
enjoys more than their fill of food and drink, and couples begin
dancing as the lights are lowered.

She is currently dancing with the birthday boy. They dated for a few
months a long time ago, but it was never serious, and now she
considers him a close friend. She flirts with him a bit, and when the
dance ends, offers to refill their drinks. Noticing her Master in the
room next to the kitchen she grins, and he returns her smile before
turning back to his friends. She goes back to the dance area and hands
the guest of honor his drink. To her surprise, he thanks her by
sloppily hugging her, saying she owes him a special birthday hug.
Smiling, she leans forward into the embrace, but when she starts to
let go, he pulls her back tightly to him.

"Stop." She says, annoyed.

"No." He answers, nuzzling her neck.

"Stop!" She says again, louder, trying to wriggle away, as he grabs
her face and begins to kiss her seriously.

She uses both hands to shove at him and tries to turn her face away,
still protesting. He is strong, however, and easily holds her tightly
against his aroused body. Suddenly, he is pulled back away from her
and spun around to face her Master. She wipes the taste of him from
her mouth as the men exchange a few terse words. The birthday fool
makes a stupid remark and she watches with shock as her Master, eyes
flat, drops him with one punch.

Everything after that is a blur. She hears him make apologies to the
host and she feels herself being dragged out the door to their car. He
seats her, still mute, then makes his way around to the driver's side.
He slams the car door, guns the engine and pulls onto the street
dangerously fast. She feels his intense unspoken anger all the way
home.

They go into the house, and he drags her behind him straight up to
their bedroom. Without pretense he pulls her, fully clothed, across
his lap. She gasps as he flips up her skirt and begins to spank her
ass hard.

This isn't fun, it isn't sexual. This is shocking, punishing, and has
her eyes filling with tears immediately. She whimpers and wriggles as
she lies face down over his hard thighs, but he continues the
spanking, brutally attacking her ass with his firm hands.

He stops for a moment to remove her panties, holding her down with one
hand. She takes that time to plead with him, to beg for forgiveness.
He effectively silences her cries by shoving her panties into her
mouth. Her tears continue, and she realizes he is so angry he won't
even speak to her. He selects another spanking implement, a large
wooden paddle, capable of producing serious welts. He begins to beat
her ass with more force.

She stops counting the blows, so many, the pain so intense, the sound
of the smacks so loud in the quiet house. She is open mouthed crying
now, tears running down, the ache on her ass cheeks paling in
comparison to the pain in her heart for disappointing her Master.

In frustration, she begins to fight, her arms and legs moving, almost
falling onto the floor. He grabs her wrists and silently ties her
hands together behind her back. He again forces her over his lap, this
time pinning her legs under his, and continues to paddle her. There is
no teasing, no toying, no joy, no finesse. This isn't foreplay; it is
just pain and disapproval, strict discipline.

She can hear his heavy breathing over her weeping as he gradually
stops the punishment. He makes her stand, though her legs are shaking,
and moves her to a corner of their bedroom. Her hands are tied behind
her back; her skirt is up, bright red ass exposed. He leaves her there
facing the wall without a word as he goes downstairs.

Her mind is in turmoil. She loves her Master. But because of her
behavior, does he doubt her fidelity? She knows she flirts too much
and at times can misread certain situations. She feels totally
responsible for his anger now. Her own shame brings a fresh torrent of
tears as she stands, knees weak and ass cheeks throbbing.

She can hear him downstairs, pacing, and she wonders what he is
thinking. Music is playing, and she hears the sound of ice in a glass.
What will happen to her? Does he still love her, still want her? After
a long period of agonizing worry, her tears are stopping, her
breathing regulating. Then her fears renew as she hears him step
slowly back upstairs to their bedroom.

She trembles as he draws closer and she presses her forehead to the
wall. He stands behind her for a few moments, not speaking, as she
shudders, well-disciplined ass on display. Then, she feels him untie
her hands carefully, massaging her wrists. He removes the gag from her
mouth, and gives her tissues to fix her nose, her eyes. He watches her
silently the entire time.

When she feels more composed, he sits down on the bed carefully,
pulling her with him. Her eyes widen as her bruised ass makes contact
with the comforter, and she gingerly sits. He pushes her hair back
from her face gently, looking into her eyes. His hand moves to her
face, and he holds her chin while he slowly kisses her mouth, sweetly,
softly. She melts under his tender touch, eyes filling, and he kisses
away the fresh tears that threaten to drop from her reddened eyes.

He removes her clothing carefully, lovingly, and lays her back on the
bed. While she watches, he strips himself, eyes dark on her. He leaves
the bedroom brightly lit as he takes his place beside her on the bed.
As he lies next to her, he gazes into her eyes and traces her face
with his hands. He strokes her, feeling the goose bumps already
covering her tender skin, and then pulls her to him fiercely.

He cups her chin again and kisses her carefully, then with growing
passion. She wraps her arms around his neck, amazed to feel his entire
body quivering, as he ravages her mouth. He lets his hands travel down
her body, stroking her waist, hips, and then teasing her neglected
pussy.

She squirms against him, nipples hard, and gasps into his mouth as he
angles her body beneath his. Even the soft blankets feel rough on her
marked ass, and she wriggles in aroused torment as she feels his
hardened cock pressing against her body.

He cups her punished ass in his hands, lifting her, holding her
immobile as he slowly enters her, spreading her tight flesh open. She
moans and feels all the pain recede, from body and soul, as she puts
her arms around him again. They are face to face, and he kisses her
seriously as he begins to gently thrust into her pussy.

His gaze is intense on hers as he says, "You are mine, little one."

She whimpers in reply, "Yes."

"Say it." He demands, stroking into her wetness harder, firmly
grabbing her tender ass. "You belong to me. Say it."

"I belong to you.' she gasps, clenching her legs around his pistoning
hips.

"Yes." He growls in satisfaction, watching her. She sighs, closing her
eyes.

"No." he says sharply. "Open your eyes. I want you to look into my
eyes as you cum."

"Oh God," she says, helpless in his gaze. His eyes are dark,
searching, commanding, and she begins to shudder in overwhelming
desire.

"Mine." He says, pounding harder.

"Yes." She gasps, clenching. "Oh, yes."

"Say it." He demands again, roughly thrusting. "You are mine."

'I am yours," she whimpers, offering him everything.

"You are the only one." He says, and she cries out as the intense
orgasm overpowers her.

"Yes, little one," he manages, "My only one." He pounds into her and
then explodes, filling her with his passion.

He quivers, embracing her for a long while, his forehead on hers. They
hold each other, fulfilled, complete, and then he lies on his side,
gently pulling her with him. She can feel his heart beating as rapidly
as her own as their breathing begins to slow. He strokes her hair
gently.

"I love you, my little one, now and always." He says, hands remaining
on her body, claiming her as his.

Eyes closed, she says, "I love you, Master." And secretly smiles.