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“Discipline And Punishment” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that includes sex robots, a very naughty woman, and a mild dose of BDSM. I could offer some context as to what inspired this, but I have a feeling it will only distract people from taking in the true breadth of this very sexy story. Enjoy!

Amber Quinn was a bad girl. That was an inescapable fact.

She wasn’t bad in the sense that she’d snuck out at night as a teenager, smoked pot regularly, or pocketed an extra piece of candy from her grandmother’s pantry. She was bad in the most basic sense of the word.

Amber was selfish, egotistical, narcissistic, callous, and downright mean at times. She had little respect for rules, manners, and propriety. She was excessively vain, spending at least an hour every morning on her makeup. She was also exceedingly immodest, wearing only the trashiest outfits that showed off her sexy body, which was more attributed to her mother being a former model than her dedication to good physical health. One of her former teachers once told her that she had the beauty of an angel and the conscious of a demon.

That teacher might have only said that because Amber slept with her son to steal answers for an upcoming test, but that didn’t make it any less true. Being so self-absorbed and self-centered, Amber rarely passed up an opportunity to exploit her beauty and the desires of others to sleep with her.

She’d slept with a manager at a high-end clothing store to get discounts on dresses.

She gave a blowjob to a delivery boy so she could get free meals for a week.

She’d gotten a wealthy widower to fall in love with her, only to break his heart when she found out he’d lost all his money in a stock market scheme.

For most of her life, Amber was on path of selfish indulgence and utter self-destruction. She burned every bridge, alienated every friend, and squandered every opportunity to do something meaningful with her life. That ended abruptly three years ago.

It started when she attempted to blackmail a young, but wealthy investment banker by claiming he’d sexually assaulted her. She came close to getting away with it. She only got caught because she mistakenly shared her plan with her drug-dealing ex-boyfriend via text message, who ended up sharing the text messages with the cops.

“You finally paid a price for your selfishness. It should’ve come sooner. And it should’ve been much higher,” Amber often told herself.

In hindsight, it might have been the best thing that could’ve happened to her. When she got arrested, the prosecuting attorney – a woman named Lorena Jameson – decided to dig deeper into her sordid history. She compiled a comprehensive list of actions that put the breadth of her deviance into perspective. When the judge on her case saw that list, he looked at her with utter disgust.

He could’ve sent her to jail for years. She would’ve deserved it, too. However, Lorena proposed a different kind of punishment. She believed that jail would only harden her and foster more deviance. For Amber Quinn to become a respectable woman again, she needed a lesson in discipline. That was where Mike Blackwhip came in.

Who he was, what he was, and how he went about teaching her the value of discipline helped transform her from a self-absorbed asshole to a respectable, law-abiding citizen. Instead of extorting men for money, she had a good job as a paralegal at a law firm. She went from living with boyfriends/sugar daddies to having her own apartment.

However, in order for Mr. Blackwhip to carry out his court-approved role, her residence required certain accommodations. They were apparent every time Amber returned from work.

“Mr. Blackwhip, sir, I’m home,” Amber announced upon entering her apartment.

“Welcome home, Amber,” replied a voice through a small speaker in the foyer. “You’re two minutes and thirteen seconds late. Do you have a valid reason for this?”

“No, Mr. Blackwhip. I don’t. I simply lost track of time.”

“That’s an excuse. Not a reason. You know what that entails.”

“Indeed, I do.”

His voice was so strict and stern, even through a speaker. Amber rarely heard that tone from men and not just because her father had been a burned-out stoner who didn’t care for discipline. Whereas men were often intimated by her beauty and attitude, there was no intimidating Mr. Blackwhip.

With that in mind, Amber set aside her coat and purse. She could already feel Mr. Blackwhip’s gaze on her through the camera atop the monitor. She stood in front of it in the modest, professional attire that was expected for her work at a law firm. It was a far cry from the tube-tops and mini-skirts she once wore in public. It affirmed that she had come to respect Mr. Blackwhip’s rules, but that was only part of the unorthodox method that had tamed her trashy ways.

“Tardiness without excuses is not the mark of a law-biding woman. It seems I must incorporate punishment into your typical discipline,” Mr. Blackwhip said through the speaker. “Do you intend to appeal this?”

No, Mr. Blackwhip. I don’t,” Amber said, holding her head low in a gesture of humility.

“Then, proceed to the discipline room. Your weekly penance awaits you, Amber Quinn.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip.”

She spoke in such a polite, formal tone. Her younger self never would’ve recognized it. There was no attitude, ego, or coyness. The same Amber Quinn who once spat on her eight-grade math teacher for chewing gum during class now spoke with respect, humility, and obedience. It was still so jarring, but she’d come to appreciate it. Mike Blackwhip was the primary reason for that.

Like a soldier obeying a direct order, she made her way to the discipline room. That was just what Mr. Blackwhip called the second bedroom of her two-bedroom apartment. As part of the court order that kept her out of prison, she was required to stay in a two-bedroom apartment in which one of the room was converted into a unique area in which she could receive what the judge in her case called “specialized penance.”

Such a vague legal term didn’t do justice to its impact on her. There was no doubt about it. Amber never would’ve gotten anything like it in prison. She never would’ve become who she was now without it. When it began, she’d been both skeptical and reluctant. Now, every time she entered the discipline room, she did so with a sense of peace and humility.

“I’m here, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said upon walking through the door. “Please, tell me what to do next.”

“Your manners are improving. That’s promising,” replied a familiar figure sitting in the shadows, “but you still have a long way to go.”

As that harsh reminder lingered in her mind, the imposing figure rose up and turned the lights on. In doing so, Mike Blackwhip revealed himself to her. No matter how many times she saw him, she felt anxious, excited, and determined all at the same time.

What made him so imposing, however, had little to do with his stature, his voice, or the significant authority that he wielded, courtesy of a court order. Unlike any other man Amber had dealt with before, Mike Blackwhip wasn’t a normal man, prone to the same vulnerabilities as other man. He was a robot. Specifically, he was a male sex robot whose design, programming, and operations were uniquely calibrated for deviant women like her.

When he approached her, Amber couldn’t help but marvel at his form. He was tall, standing at over six-and-a-half feet in height. He had muscles that rivaled most amateur bodybuilders. From his arms to his legs to his chest, he radiated masculine power from every pore. That power extended to a large, well-shaped penis that hung between his legs. Despite having been with her share of well-endowed men, the sight Mike Blackwhip’s manhood still made her blush.

The closer he got, the more she trembled under his domineering presence. He might have been a robot, but he still had the presence of a man. His skin was very lifelike, but probably wouldn’t have fooled most people if he walked down a busy street.

However, that helped reinforce an important point, with respect to her court-ordered discipline. Mike Blackwhip wasn’t the kind of man she could easily manipulate. No amount of sex appeal or sensuality could distract him from his role. Being a robot in the body of a powerful man, he had a singular purpose and it centered around her.

“Close the door, lock it, and take off your clothes,” Mike said, his voice echoing with focused masculinity.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said obediently.

She did exactly as she was told, without attitude or complaint. She showed none of her former sass as she closed the door, leaving her alone in a room with a hulking sex robot and blacked out windows. It used to scare her. It still did on some level. However, as she came to appreciate her penance, it began to excite her.

It showed as she removed her casual business attire under Mike’s watchful eye. In the past, stripping naked was just another tool in her effort to selfishly indulge. Given her natural beauty and her willingness to use it, she could get almost any man to do her bidding. None of that worked on Mike Blackwhip. Even as she slipped off her bra and panties, he was not the least bit swayed by her fully nude form.

“Get on your knees,” Mike said firmly.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip.”

Already, Amber had exercised more submission and obedience than she had for most of her adult life. She was usually the one who told men what to do. She was usually the one in charge when clothes came off. Getting on her knees, usually to give a blowjob, was just another part of another selfish agenda.

That dynamic, which once fueled her narcissism, had been completely reversed.

“You’re getting better,” Mike told her. “You’re learning to respect authority, obey orders, and appreciate formality. That constitutes progress.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said with a respectful nod.

“But progress alone is not the goal,” the robot figure told her. “Reformation and vindication, especially for one such as you, requires extensive effort. At times, those efforts must be belabored.”

Mike Blackwhip took a step closer. He now towered over her like a titan. She looked up at him, a powerful robot surrounded by masculine flesh, in the same way a small animal looked up at a predator. There was no equality in this situation. He had the authority, literally and legally.

“Get on all fours,” he ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” she said before doing exactly as he ordered.

“Now, follow me to your punishment rack. Crawl on the dirty floor like a disobedient pet,” he told her.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip.”

Again, she complied. With submissive meekness, she crawled alongside the imposing figure until they arrived at the punishment rack, as he called it.

It wasn’t a rack as much as it was a make-shift bed, which had been modified with various bondage accessories. It included shackles on the headboard, restraints that hung from the ceiling, and ropes that connected to the sides. Right next to the setup stood two small dressers, each packed with various bondage tools.

She knew what they were and how they were used, but hadn’t been on the receiving end until recently. They used to fill her with dread. Now, Amber got aroused, thinking about how they would be used on her. Mike Blackwhip didn’t just know how to use them. His programming made him the ultimate expert.

“Get up!” he said, barking the order like a drill sergeant.

She did so without saying a word. Before she could fully return to her feet, he gave another order.

“Bend over,” he said. “Put your arms behind your back.”

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” said Amber, her voice becoming more submissive.

As soon as she complied, Mike grabbed her wrists and held them together. Then, he retrieved a pair of handcuffs from the nearby dresser and bound her with them. The sound of the ominous clicking noise reminded her of that fateful day when she got arrested. Mike Blackwhip often made it a point to remind her of that moment, but there was a reason for that.

“No matter how much progress you make, you should never forget what a deviant bitch you once were,” said Mike. “You escaped punishment for so long. It’s going to take a lot of penance to balance the scales of justice.”

Upon saying those words, he gave her butt a firm slap. The sound of a loud “thwack!” filled the room. Amber winced at the sting, but it did more than inflict pain.

Her heart raced faster.

Her mind raced as well.

Memories of her decadent past clashed with her emerging present. It created within her a potent feeling that even a former deviant could appreciate.

“You feel that?” Mike Blackwhip said as he smacked her ass again. “That is real, tangible punishment…the kind you avoided for years.”

Amber winced again as another sharp sting followed. He proceeded to spank her several more times, using increasing force with each strike. He wasn’t too hard, but he wasn’t gentle either. Being an advanced sex robot, Mike delivered just the right amount of force every time.

Soon, her butt was tender and sore. Amber kept gasping anxiously, her body and mind in a strange state of discomfort and arousal. Then, Mike retrieved a black, leather studded whip from the dresser and rubbed the tip over her tender skin. Under his imposing presence, all she could do was brace herself.

“Now, you cannot avoid punishment! Not anymore!” Mike loudly proclaimed.

He struck her butt with the whip, giving a tangible feeling to such harsh words. Amber groaned at the resulting sting, which was more intense than before. Even so, she endured it. She didn’t have a choice. Even if she did, there was no escaping the truth.

Again and again, he struck her butt with the whip. Hard leather struck vulnerable skin. Amber writhed and groaned, but didn’t dare complain. She just bit her lip and trembled at each strike, feeling that unique rush that came with receiving such punishment from Mike Blackwhip. She had spent her whole life avoiding consequences to her many misdeeds. Facing them like this, taking them in such a raw and overt way, gave her a feeling that was uniquely liberating.

“You deserve this! Say it!” Mike said in between strikes.

“I…I deserve this,” she said meekly.

“Louder! Say it louder!”

“I deserve this! I deserve this punishment!”

Saying it out loud only intensified the feeling. It was so cathartic, proclaiming out loud that she deserved to be punished and willingly accepted it. After everything she’d done, Amber didn’t just want that feeling. She needed it.

Mike Blackwhip proceeded to whip her ass several dozen times, imparting punishment and vindication with every strike. It further added to her arousal. Some of that arousal manifested between her legs. She could already feel her inner thighs becoming very moist. What had once been a manifestation of her selfish indulgence was now a part of her overdue punishment.

Her arousal didn’t go unnoticed. Being a sex robot, Mike had sensors that allowed him to detect an aroused woman, which already put him above the vast majority of the men she’d ever been with. Unlike those men, however, he did not get distracted by the prospect of a horny woman.

“I sense that you’re accepting and embracing your punishment,” Mike said. “That also constitutes progress. As such, the nature of your penance must evolve.”

He gave her butt one last swat. It was extra hard, leaving a sting that lingered.

As Amber processed that feeling, the imposing figure undid her handcuffs, grabbed her by the shoulder, and turned her around. Once again, she faced him and his domineering authority. It was the first authority she’d come to respect and not just because of a court order.

“Get on the bed, lie on your back, and hold your arms out,” Mike Blackwhip ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” she said, her arousal showing in her voice.

She complied with greater urgency, crawling up on the bed and lying down on her back. She didn’t care that her butt still stung and her inner thighs were hot with arousal. This powerful authority figure gave her an order. Having gained a unique respect for authority, abiding by that authority only intensified that arousal.

“Following the rules and those who enforce them aren’t always appealing,” he said as he walked around to the other side of the bed. “Most don’t need to learn that lesson the hard. Some insist on making it even harder. You, Amber Quinn, learned it many times and still avoided it. For you to follow the basic rules of society, enforces of those rules must get elaborate.”

He’d given that speech before. Amber heard it every time she endured her this elaborate form of penance. It was meant to reinforce just how much a deviant she had been and how challenging it was to change her perspective.

Mike Blackwhip let those words echo in her mind as he proceeded with the next phase of her penance. He started by taking each wrist and bounding it with a special restraint that was attached to the side of the bed. Her arms now immobile, he retrieved a couple of nipple rings from the drawer and fastened them to her nipples, which created a fresh source of discomfort.

“Ungh!” Amber groaned.

“Silence!” he barked. “You’ve no one to blame for this recourse but yourself.”

Before she could protest any further, Mike grabbed a ball gag from the table, shoved it into her mouth, and locked it. Now, she was both restrained and silenced. It was a position that had been alien to her until recently. It was also a position that made use of the discipline room’s most effective tool.

On the ceiling above the punishment rack was a mirror. In it, she saw her naked body on the rack, completely at the mercy of a powerful figure armed with both robot strength and legal power. It allowed her to see herself in this bound, submissive form. She could watch herself get dominated and disciplined in all the ways she once avoided. It created a powerful visual that she couldn’t avoid, nor did she want to.

“To appreciate discipline, you must also appreciate penance,” he said to her. “To appreciate penance, you must also have incentive…one that can be both painful and pleasurable.”

Her arousal was so great that Amber could barely keep her legs still. She watched with growing anticipation, her breath muffled by the ball gag. Mike Blackwhip got up on the bed and pushed her legs apart, casting a shadow over her that made her feel like an insect. In doing so, his dick went from completely flaccid to completely erect in just a few seconds.

It was another distinct tool that allowed Mike to exercise his authority. Being a sex robot, he was not bound by the physical limitations of men. The court liaison who’d introduced her to Mike Blackwhip told her that his genitals had been designed and configured with control in mind. He could be as hard as he wanted for as long as he wanted. That meant she couldn’t depend her discipline ending prematurely.

Having exploited and belittled the frailties of male sexual function in the past, it was almost poetic. Hovering over her was a man who would never become tired, overwhelmed, or impotent. She could never dominate him, even at her most deviant. She could only ever be dominated by her. He knew that because that was how he was programmed.

Another part of that programming was, according to another court liaison, to derive his own unique pleasure from carrying out her penance.

“Look up at yourself,” Mike said as he held her legs apart. “Watch as I impose my discipline. Watch as you accept your punishment.”

Amber replied with a light muffle before turning her attention to the mirror on the ceiling. From there, she watched the domineering spectacle unfold.

Mike, keeping a firm grip on her legs, aligned his throbbing cock with the moist opening to her pussy. She watched in her reflection as he drove his hips forward and entered her, his hulking male flesh filling her inner depths. He was not careful or reluctant. This wasn’t her indulging in pleasures of the flesh. This was part of her penance. That didn’t make it feel any less intense.

“Mmff!” she moaned, the ball gag muting her gasps.

It was happening again. Bound, gagged, and naked, she was in a state of total submission. She – Amber Quinn, the unapologetic whore who once extorted pediatrician for pain pills to sell – was being dominated and fucked. As someone whose ego once required that she always be in control, both the imagery and the sensations had a profound impact.

The sights, sounds, and sensations converged in that moment. With his member now inside her, Mike began moving his hips. Like a well-oiled machine – which he was, to some extent – he pumped his manhood within her depths. As always, he penetrated deep. He left no nerve unstimulated. It was like his penis had been crafted specifically to fuck her, which was probably close to the truth.

The spectacle of his muscular, manly body humping her bound form unfolded in the mirror above her. The pain from the spankings and the nipple clamps mixed with the pleasure of sex. The lines between the two quickly blurred. From that blend of conflicting sensations, a unique feeling emerged.

This is your penance, Amber Quinn. This is how you repay your lofty debts,” Mike said in his booming voice. “Take this punishment! Take this discipline! Take it all!”

More muffled moans followed, but Amber never looked away from her submissive reflection. She had to see it play out. Like a living memory, it gave weight and substance to the experience.

Pain imparted punishment. Pleasure imparted affirmation. There was merit to following the rules, exercising discipline, and eschewing pure selfishness. Mike Blackwhip turned that profound concept into a special kind of penance. She felt it, watched it, and embraced it. Doing so didn’t just help atone for her many misdeeds. It helped make her a better person.

As the punishment and discipline played out, Mike intensified the pace of their sex. He was hard and fast with every thrust, fucking her with a fervor that few men could sustain. He took full advantage of being a sex robot, dominating her as much as he ravaged her. It kept that blend of pain and pleasure flowing, so much so that Amber couldn’t tell whether she was close to climaxing. She only realized it as she neared the final threshold.

“Mmmfff!” she moaned loudly as the feeling approach.

“Yes! That’s it, Amber Quinn!” Mike shouted. “Feel it! Remember it! Accept it!”

He slowed his thrusting, delivering one last round of targeted movements. They were intended specifically to make her climax, even as other parts of her body remained tender with pain. It was a difficult feat, even for a sex robot. Like he had many times before, Mike succeeded.

When she came, Amber bend her knees back, curled her toes, and watched herself writhe in the mirror. The intensity of the pleasure complement the lingering pain, as if to create a feeling of complete and utter balance. Even at her most deviant, through all the sex she had and the drugs she took, she’d never experienced such a feeling.

As her body trembled, Mike withdrew his cock from her, unlocked her wrists, and removed the ball gag. As she panted heavily from the orgasmic feeling, he cupped her chin with his powerful hand and looked her directly in the eye.

“Your penance is done for the day,” he told her, “but the process is ongoing. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t, Mr. Blackwhip,” she replied. “I promise.”

Amber smiled at the imposing figure and he smiled back. Even a sex robot understood the importance of what he’d just done with her. The sensations created a feeling and the feeling created an experience in which punishment became desirable and discipline became appealing. For a reformed deviant like her, Amber couldn’t imagine of a more effective penance.

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“Master’s Delight” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about authority, domination, submission, and all the sexy connotations that go with it. Make no mistake. The sexy connotations are there. I’ve talked about them before. This is just a story inspired by them. Enjoy!

Authority was a tricky, but necessary component of life. Without authority, there could be no order. Without order, there could be no peace. That was the mantra that Erin Grant heard from her father since she was a child. Being an officer in the United States Marine Corp and an advocate of capable authority figures, he’d taught her and her three younger brothers the value of respecting authority.

However, as she grew into a beautiful young woman with a promising career in online marketing, Erin learned that most people didn’t appreciate authority. If anything, they went out of their way to fight it.

“Seriously, Brandy, you need to stand your ground on this. If Jay won’t set a deadline, you need to give him an ultimatum.”

“You have a short memory, Marla. My sister tried that with her now ex-fiancé last year. Weren’t you with her when she threw her suitcase out on the front lawn?”

“This is different! Jay is your co-worker, not your squeeze. You got to make clear that his authority ends where your duties begin.”

“Says the woman who’s been bossing around her boss for the past two years, which I’m sure shows up on every paycheck.”

That was just the latest in a contentious debate between Brandy Wyn and Marla Isaac, two women with whom she shared a carpool. Every day, there seemed to be some major conflict going on within their department at the company. Most of the time, it related to someone not respecting another’s authority or someone attempting to assert their own. Erin had heard it so often that she already knew how it would play out.

It started with a disagreement. It escalated into a conflict. From there, it became a heated argument about who was right and who had the power to make that decision. Ultimately, there was a compromise. However, nobody ever seemed to get what they want and if it failed, nobody dared take responsibility.

That was why Erin often stayed out of those debates. She knew her role and was content to maintain it while refining her skills in the process. Her appreciation and respect for authority ensured she remained quiet during many of those conflicts, often keeping to herself and listening to music on her phone.

“What do you think, Erin?” Brandy asked her. “You work with Jay in marketing. Should I draw the line before he can undercut me?”

“What do you mean before?” Marla scoffed. “He already has!”

Erin rolled her eyes, already regretting being dragged into the debate.

“I don’t think I can offer much, Brand,” she told her. “I work with Jay, but we don’t step on each other’s toes. If we disagree, we refer to our boss.”

“That can’t be your solution to everything,” Brandy said. “Randy is a smart guy, but I need to take point on this project. It’s how I’m going to get that promotion when Jessie retires!”

“You honestly think that’s going to tip the scales?” said Marla. “I get you want to be the boss for a change, but there’s a long list of people eying that spot and leading one project won’t put you on the inside track.”

“It sure as hell can’t hurt. If you want people to respect your voice, you got to put your foot down when you get a shot!”

The debate raged on. Erin tried not to listen. At one point, she heard Marla suggest that Brandy plant a half-empty bottle of whiskey in Jay’s desk in the hopes he’ll get drunk at the next staff meeting. It was a ridiculous idea, but one Brandy seemed to take seriously.

That was the problem with those who didn’t appreciate authority. In their efforts to oppose it, they often undermined it and themselves in the process. In the end, nobody won. Nobody trusted anybody to deliver in their duties. Erin felt like an anomaly with the way she respected authority. Then again, given just how much she respected it compared to everyone around her, she probably was.

She managed to shut out the rest of the debate until she arrived at the quiet suburban house she shared with her husband, Robert. After checking her watch, Erin saw that she was right on time for what she and her love had planned for the evening. She couldn’t get out of the van fast enough.

“Have a nice night, Erin,” said Patrick, the driver of the van.

“You too,” Erin said politely.

“And give some thought to how we can mind-fuck Jay tomorrow!” Marla added. “We need a plan.”

“I’ll…give it some though,” she said with a half-grin.

“Yeah right,” scoffed Brandy.

The two women looked like they were in for a restless and miserable evening. Erin tried not to pity them too much. It wasn’t her fault their approach to confronting authority was so strenuous. Not many shared her attitudes towards it and with every passing year, fewer and fewer people seemed to appreciate it.

“If only they knew,” Erin said under her breath as she entered the front door. “Getting what you want doesn’t mean fighting authority. In fact, you can get plenty when you embrace it.”

Smiling to herself as she closed the door behind her and set her stuff aside, she checked her watch to ensure she was still on schedule. Whereas her co-workers agonized over how to seize authority for themselves, she intended to take a different approach to fulfilling her goals.

True to her punctual nature, Erin took out her phone and sent a text message to her husband to let her know they were on track. Afterwards, she kicked off her shoes, walked over to the kitchen, and plugged her phone into its charger. She then got herself a quick drink of water, assuming she would need to be hydrated for the night’s activities. Before she finished the glass, though, her phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from her husband. It contained only a few words with simple instructions.

“I’m ready. Come on down.”

Already, Erin felt the excitement in her brewing. Her heart raced with anticipation. The prospect of an eventful evening to balance out another mundane day at the office had uncanny appeal, but pursuing it meant doing so required an entirely different approach to authority.

“Not everything needs to be taken,” Erin said as she placed her glass aside. “Some of the greatest rewards in life are given…if you’re willing to trust others to give them.”

Vast rewards awaited and Erin eagerly pursued them. Following her excitement, she made her way to the basement entrance in the foyer. Outside, it looked like just another door within a suburban house. However, few doors had a small camera hanging over it or a heavy electronic lock from the other side. The neighbors once joked they must have been very protective of their laundry. They were only partially right.

“I’m ready too,” she said to the camera. “Please, let me in.”

She heard nothing. The light on the camera just flickered and the door remained locked. At first, she thought her message hadn’t gotten through. Then, she remembered her mistake.

“I apologize. It’s been a long day,” Erin said. “Please, let me in…Master.”

The way she said that last word, lacing it with a mix of reverence and seduction, did the trick. The door unlocked. The light on the camera changed from red to green. The special activity she’d planned with her husband had begun.

“Thank you for your mercy, Master,” she said graciously. “I intend to make it up to you.”

Confident in her intentions, she opened the heavy door and descended the steps leading into the basement. There, she encountered a setup that she’d seen many times before, but it still got every part of her body hot with excitement…some more so than others.

Her master had really gone the extra mile. Once again, he gave their little S&M dungeon his special touch. As always, the windows were blacked out, the lamps were shaded with red veils, and an array of black candles were set up on special stands all around what had once been a typical cellar. In the center of the room, however, the real spectacle awaited her.

Her master had been working on it for weeks. It was a special bondage rack, one that required parts not easily found in a typical hardware store and expertise not typical of a middle-aged man who worked at a private security firm. It looked like a fancy massage table that had been modified with shackles, straps, and a few other familiar accessories that Erin knew very well. In addition to the rock, there was also a small table containing some special instruments that should facilitate the night’s activities.

If her co-workers had seen it, especially Brandy and Marla, they would’ve been aghast. If someone even joked about them using it, they would’ve been outraged. From their perspective, the idea of any woman subjecting herself to such denigration had to be damaged or worse. Erin could only laugh at how wrong they would’ve been.

“Master…once again, you’ve outdone yourself,” Erin said in amazement.

Not the least bit repulsed, she approached the heart of the dungeon. With each step she took, she felt herself drawn into a unique world with a very specific power structure. In that structure, she had no authority, whatsoever.

She wasn’t a colleague, a partner, or even a participant. She was a slave, plain and simple. She lived to serve a master and by serving him well, the benefits were many.

“My dear, subservient whore,” came a powerful voice over a loudspeaker. “Welcome back to our special domain.”

Every word echoed with such power and not just because it came through a speaker system that had been built into the walls. Still only a few steps from the bondage rack, Erin looked around until she located the other camera mounted on the wall. Instantly, she felt her master’s powerful presence.

“Greetings, Master,” Erin said with a respectful bow. “How may I serve you this evening?”

“Spoken like a good slave,” the voice responded. “You can start by stripping out of those itchy clothes.”

The young woman nodded obediently and complied with her master’s wishes. As she unbuttoned her blouse and removed her skirt, she made sure she stood in full view of the camera. She hadn’t forgotten how much her master loved watching her undress. It always pleased him, watching her reveal her womanly body to him. She already could feel his lustful eyes on her, especially as she removed her bra and panties.

After completing her impromptu striptease, she remained standing in the middle of the room, knowing multiple cameras were now focused on her naked body. She made no effort to cover her breasts, butt, or pussy. Erin wanted her master to admire her. She made it clear with the way she stood that she was a loyal, obedient slave. She was there to serve her master.

“Beautiful,” her master’s voice said through the speakers, “a loyal slave, naked and eager to serve their master’s desires. You are eager, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master…very much so,” Erin replied.

“You say that, but I am unconvinced.”

The door on the other side of the cellar opened. It led to an area that served as a laundry room and a hub for the various electronics that she and her master had set up. It was always dark, but even within the tinted lighting, she could make out the imposing figure that emerged.

“Master,” she said with a mix of reverence and lust.

He reacted favorably to her words and tone. Wearing only a pair of denim pants, heavy black boots, and a matching leather vest that revealed part of his upper body, he carried himself with the poise of a titan. Erin couldn’t help but cower before him as he approached her naked form.

On the surface, Robert Grant might not have seemed that imposing. He’d met her friends, co-workers, and neighbors. From their perspective, he was just an ordinary middle-aged man who few recognized on a crowded street. He wasn’t that tall or heavily muscled. However, he was also a former soldier who had a strong appreciation for discipline. Unlike her, though, he preferred imposing it, rather than respecting it.

“My sweet little sex slave,” he said to her. “You weren’t lying. You are horny.”

He spoke as though his will made it a reality. As if to exact that will, he reached between her legs and cupped the outer folds of her womanhood. He didn’t ask permission and she didn’t resist. He was her master. She was his slave. There was no need.

“It must have been a stressful day,” her master said. “You’re so wet. It seems you need your master’s loving touch.”

“Yes, I need it. I need it so bad!” Erin said, barely hiding her desperation.

“Lucky for you, I’m fair and loving master. I take care of my slaves. I even reward them.”

Every word echoed with strength. Within that same strength was a distinct brand of love and care that only a master could offer. That was what Erin craved. It was what brought her such immense satisfaction.

She continued standing obedient before her husband/master, gazing at him with desperate eyes as he fondled her pussy while caressing her face, admiring both her naked body and her willful obedience. She knew how much that turned him on. She could already see a large bulge protruding in his pants.

Whether it was from her stripping naked or her subservience to his powerful touch, her master was aroused. That, on top of her own escalating arousal, filled their little dungeon with the thick scene of sex.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” her master said while cupping her chin. “I’m going to strap you to my new bondage rack. I’m going to render you completely bound. Then, I’m going to please myself with your submissive form. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master…very clear,” Erin said without hesitation.

“Resist, and it will get uncomfortable. Submit, and you too will be pleased. By pleasing your master, you will in turn please yourself. Trust in me…trust in your master’s authority and I will make sure of it.”

The dynamic was rigid, but simple. To be a good slave, she had to trust in her master. To be a good master, he had to honor her trust. It was the unspoken power of authority. It wasn’t just about one person imposing on another. Trust was what granted that power in the first place. By using it wisely, both master and slave could benefit.

“I trust you, Master,” Erin said while gazing intently into Robert’s eyes. “I submit to your authority. I freely offer you my heart and my body.”

“Very good, my beautiful slave,” he replied with an affectionate grin. “From this point forward, you will not speak unless I request it. My authority over you is total.”

As if to seal the deal, Robert leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips. Still grasping her chin and cupping her pussy, Erin could feel the literal and figurative power he had over her. To some, it was scary, giving someone that much latitude over their body and will. For her, it was nothing short of exhilarating.

Upon parting their lips, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and led her to the bondage rack. Erin followed him freely, not resisting in the slightest, even when he lightly slapped her butt to make her move faster. If anything, that got her even more excited. It showed just how eager her master was to exercise his power over her.

“Get on the table,” her master demanded. “Get on all fours and face the wall.”

Erin wordlessly complied. The leather of the rack was already hot on her naked skin. It had definitely been a massage table at one point, but the modifications her master had made ensured it wouldn’t be that relaxing.

Once in position, her master did the rest. First, he grabbed her arms and placed them in shackles that were attached to the side of the rack. He then did the same with her ankles, ensuring her legs were spread in the process. The hot air flowing between her legs spread the scent of arousal within the confined room. However, the extent of her submission still wasn’t done.

Her limbs now restrained, Robert activated a mechanism within the rack that raised a metal bar so that it was just under her abdomen. It was cold to her naked skin, but she understood its purpose. Between it and the restraints, her hips and butt remained elevated, the path to her sex clear and unobstructed. Any resistance at that point would’ve been futile, but Erin had no intention of resisting.

“There! Bound, naked, and secure, like a good little sex slave,” her master said as he admired her form. “I like what I’m seeing thus far.”

“Thank you, Master,” Erin said.

“Hey! Did I give you permission to talk?”

Erin gasped to herself. In her aroused state, she momentarily undermined her master’s control over her. That was a clear violation. All her life, she’d been taught to abhor such violations. Her submission to her master was no exception.

“You spoke out of line,” Robert said, treating it as serious as any crime. “For that, you must be punished. Affirm that you will accept your master’s punishment.”

“I…I accept,” Erin said meekly.

“Good, my slave. Now, brace yourself for your master’s authority!”

The excitement kept growing. She felt the heat between her legs intensify. She heard her master making some preparations at a nearby table, but couldn’t see what they entailed. Not knowing only added to the excitement.

She was already short of breath. She barely had a chance to catch it by the time her master walked around to the front of the bondage rack and stood in front of her. Looking up, he towered over her naked form with such power and grandeur. It was akin to looking up at a demigod. She could only gaze up at him with submissive awe.

“Even good slaves need reminders,” he told her. “Be sure to commit this to memory.”

He spoke like a true disciplinarian, but one who understood and cared for what it meant. That was part of what had drawn Erin to her husband and master in the first place. Her appreciation for such a rigid approach drew him to her, as well, and it showed in a big way.

As he loomed over her, he undid his belt and pulled down his pants, freeing a throbbing-hard erection that had probably been building since she entered the dungeon. Upon kicking off his pants, he stood at the head of the bondage rack and grasped both sides of her head. He then aligned the tip of his penis with her lips.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Erin obeyed her master once again. His grip on her head intensified. Finally, with a firm jerk of the hips, he shoved his manhood into her mouth and began humping her face.

Her punishment had officially begun.

“That’s it!” Robert said intently. “Take your master’s cock. Suck it! Lick it! Take it all!”

“Ungh!” was all Erin got out.

It was overwhelming at first. Robert was exceptionally endowed. His average stature hinted otherwise, but when he got fully aroused, his dick was big enough to test anyone’s jaw muscles. For her master, though, Erin endured the strain.

She willfully and eagerly sucked him off, gagging and slurping along his length as he aggressively humped her face. It was messy and rough, but that was appropriate. It was punishment, after all. She had spoken out of line. Her master was right to discipline her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been a capable master.

“Yes! My slave…accept your punishment! Respect your master!” Robert said, his presence radiating with domineering power.

He clung harder to her head, running his fingers through her hair as he face-fucked her without restraint. Erin, like a good slave, kept taking it. She never diverted her gaze from him, looking up as his member slithered rapidly between her lips. Already, her makeup was running and saliva dripped down her chin, an unambiguous effect of a submissive slave and a powerful master.

Punishment or not, the sight of her master’s pleased expression gave Erin a unique fulfillment. Only someone enamored by authority like her could understand such a feeling. Her punishment was her master’s joy. His fulfillment, in turn, became hers. It was a perfect embodiment of a master and slave embracing their roles.

From those roles, her own arousal escalated. Being restrained, dominated, and punished turned the mentality of a slave into a tangible feeling. Already, she craved more of it. However, she could only get that by serving her master and accepting her punishment.

Finally, just as her jaw began to falter from the strain, her master ceased his movements and withdrew.

“There! Your punishment is complete,” Robert told her. “You did well, slave. Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Master,” she said obediently.

“Now that you appreciate my authority once more, you’re able to embrace its many benefits. Are you ready to embrace it?”

“Yes, Master. I’m ready!”

He knelt down and caressed her face. Unlike before, he was gentle and caring, looking upon her with affection rather than domination. It was another key trait of a strong master. When a slave accepted their punishment, they proved worthy of mercy. Robert, more than most masters, was capable of extremely satisfying mercy.

“I believe you,” he told her, “and because I’m a good master, I intend to reward your loving submission.”

“Thank you, Master. Thank you!”

Already breathing hard, her anticipation rising with each passing second, she watched as her loving master made good on his promise. Still bound and submissive, not resisting in the slightest, he could’ve done anything he wanted to her. However, she trusted him to do only what was necessary to ensure that both master and slave were satisfied.

As part of that effort, he retrieved another item from the table. It was an orange ball-gag, one custom-fitted for her mouth. Without saying a word, he put it in her mouth and secured it with ease, effectively silencing her and deepening her submission.

Then, he walked around to the other end of the bondage rack. At that point, she couldn’t see what he was doing. She had to trust him even more, believing her master knew best how to please her.

“A good slave is also a robust slave,” he said to her. “You’re tougher than most. You’ve proven that time and again. That’s why, as your master, I must be skilled in applying my power.”

There was a brief silence. Erin heard him retrieving something else from the table. She heard a bottle pop open, followed by the feeling of thick, lubricating gel pouring down her buttocks and inner thighs. Being so aroused, it wasn’t entirely necessary.

Then, she felt something hard and phallic-shaped press against her asshole.

“A little something I procured the other day,” Robert said seductively, “something I knew my slave would enjoy.”

With no further warning, he inserted the object into her. Erin’s gasped at the sharp feeling, her reaction muffled by the ball gag. She quickly identified it as a metal dildo, one specifically designed for anal sex. Her master had used one on her before, but only rare occasions.

That was because she loved anal sex and had never been shy about it. Her master often used that as an added reward for special occasions. Whatever the occasion might have been, she figured she’d been an exceptional slave because she felt the dildo vibrate.

“Mmmff!” Erin moaned, practically squealing through her gag.

“You feel that, don’t you?” her master said in his deep, authoritative tone. “I know you love it. A good master knows what his slave loves and believe me. I know.”

His certainty reflected his authority. The way he wielded it reminded Erin why she fell in love with Robert Grant and why she loved being his slave.

He knew how to dominate her in a way that made her want to be dominated. Already, she could feel a steady stream of sensations coursing through her body, the vibrating dildo stimulating her depths. She trembled under the feeling, already drooling through her ball gag as she descended further into a world of total submission.

Bound, gagged, and eager for more, Erin braced herself for what came next.

“I also know you love this,” he said, leaning over and whispering into her ear.

With the dildo still stimulating her anally, she felt her master position himself at the other end of the bondage race. From there, he grabbed hold of her waist with that strong, domineering grip of his and guided the tip of his rigid penis to her still-moist slit. He didn’t tease or tantalize her as a less certain lover would have. As soon as their bodies were aligned, he thrust his hips forward hard and confidently, driving his manly flesh into her womanly depths.

“Mhmm!” Erin gasped, her blissful delight apparent in her submissive squeals.

“Ohhh yeah!” her master grunted. “So hot and tight…you want this. You need this…my beautiful slave.”

His grip on her waist tighten as he began moving his hips, pumping his cock inside her throbbing depths with great vigor. He was not gentle or careful. He exerted the full force of his domination over her, rocking her body and the entire submission rack. The resulting sensations compounded the feeling evoked by the vibrating dildo, creating a steady onslaught of ecstasy that cascaded through her body.

It was incredible.

It was beautiful.

It was a perfect act of utter domination and complete submission.

From that feeling, a special passion emerged. Robert was her loving master and she was his willing slave. By trusting him with her heard and her body, he delivered to her a merciful ecstasy. By submitting to him, she gave him the trust and respect that made his authority strong. It made the act of exercising power as exhilarating as the pleasure it produced, creating the ultimate blend of intimacy and desire.

Together, Erin descended with him into a daze of bliss. Bound and gagged, she took the brunt of his lust, her body rocking every time his manly member plunged into her womanly depths. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled their dungeon, supplementing his dominating grunts and her muffled moans. The bondage rack trembled under the weight of their movements, but the restraints held up. That ensured she remained completely submissive when she achieved orgasm, just like she liked it.

“Mmm!” she exclaimed through the gag.

“Yes, my slave! Come! Come for your master!” Robert proclaimed.

He gave her buttocks a hard spank, as if to trigger her release on command. It worked almost too well. The resulting rush of pleasure was so intense she nearly passed out.

It was like a volcano erupting within her core, the onslaught of sensations coming together in a single burst. The feeling rippled through her from head to toe. It was a feeling she hadn’t actively pursued. She achieved it through submission to her master and his loving domination of her. It didn’t just leave her deeply satisfied. It further strengthened his authority over her.

“I’m going to keep fucking you, slave,” he told her. “You’re going to keep coming. Then, I’ll come…and your submission will be complete!”

That wasn’t a warning or a boast. That was a master simply telling his slave how things were going to be. Only a master of true authority could hope to speak with such certainty. Her husband, Robert Grant, was that kind of master.

He continued dominating her with his sex, even after the orgasmic sensations abated. He kept humping her and groping her bound flesh, squeezing her breasts and swatting her ass. Once again, he tested her ability to absorb his lust, as well as his love. As always, she passed with flying colors, achieving more orgasms in the process.

Erin wasn’t sure how many she’d had. She just made sure to soak in every last sensation as she embraced her submission, taking her master’s domination for as long as he needed. He always enjoyed drawing it out, as if to prove how well he’d mastered his authority. He had nothing to prove to her, his loyal slave, but that never stopped him from pushing it to the utmost.

By the time he finally neared his peak, her butt was sore and her limbs were strained by the shackles. None of that mattered, though. Just as her master pushed himself in his domination, she too pushed herself in her submission.

“I’m close! My loyal slave…I’m so close!” her master proclaimed.

In a final culmination, he imparted his last outburst of lust, rocking her body so hard that her restraints almost gave out. They held on just long enough for him to finally achieve his peak. When it hit, he let out a of domineering grunt worthy of a skilled and loving master.

His member throbbed.

His nails dug into her naked flesh.

His sweat mixed with hers, showing the extent of his exertion.

Their intimate act complete, her lover withdrew from her and removed the vibrating dildo. He also leaned over and removed the ball gag, finally allowing her to catch her breath and rest her jaw.

As their intimate fluids mixed within her, the finality of what she and Robert had done set in. She willingly submitted to him and he eagerly dominated her. From it, they achieved something beautiful…something that wasn’t possible without a trust and love built on a foundation of authority.

“I love you…my sexy, submissive slave,” Robert said to her.

“I love you too…my wonderful, loving master,” Erin replied.

“I’m going to unlock your restraints,” he said. “I think I’ve sufficiently asserted my authority for today.”

“That you have,” she said, “but strong authority always benefits from frequent reminders.”

“Don’t worry, Erin. I’ve got elaborate plans for plenty more reminders!”

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The Sex That Alters Your State Of Mind (Yes, It Involves BDSM)

Let’s face it. We all have bad days. We all go through periods in our lives when we wish we could just alter our state of mind. I’ve come home from a long, arduous day wishing I could just bang my head against the wall until my brain matter reconfigures itself into a state that’s less miserable. It rarely works, but it’s not like we have much to work with.

Sure, there are mind-altering drugs, but the legal varieties only go so far. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a few glasses of whiskey or a six-pack of beer like anyone else, but between hangovers and lung cancer, there are plenty of risks. The risks for the more potent, but illegal drugs are even greater. Despite these risks, the desire to alter our state of mind is still strong because some days will just be that bad.

Surely, there’s some way of getting to an altered state of mine. Surely, there’s a way that’s legal and doesn’t involve damaging our liver, lungs, and brain. If we’re to believe that nature isn’t stupid and understands that human beings need to re-arrange their brain matter every now and then, then surely it has a natural way for us to do so.

It turns out that such a way exists. It’s legal, but it’s not something you can do on a school playground. It’s natural, but it sometimes involves accessories that aren’t found in nature. It also has an abundance of instruction material, some of which I’ve written.

Yes, I’m talking about BDSM, or Bondage, Domination/Submission, and Masochism. Yes, this is going to be another one of those articles.

I’ve written about it before. I’ve even incorporated it into some of my books. We already know, surprisingly enough, that BDSM has health benefits. We also know that BDSM played a big part in the creation of Wonder Woman. Surely something that helped create an icon like Wonder Woman has merit.

Well, it may actually have more than just merit. It may actually do more than just do more than just improve your mental health. At this point, I don’t think BDSM needs any more appeal. I think the success of “50 Shades of Grey” and the babies born as a result of it have proven that beyond any reasonable doubt.

Despite this, nature decides to go for broke and gives it yet another benefit. It turns out it can actually alter your state of mind. It can do for your mind what a cocktail of illicit drugs and alcohol also do, but with less damaging side-effects. Nature isn’t usually this overt so I think we better listen.

So what exactly is going on here? How is it that BDSM can significantly alter your mental state in a way that doesn’t involve risking a raid by the DEA? Well, the fine folks at ThinkTank lay it out once again. As is often the case with issues of intimacy and sex, it follows a perverse, but understandable line of logic.

One of the key components of BDSM involves stressing the mind and body in ways that don’t typically happen at the office, in the fields, or in the mines. It can turn the powerful into the weak and the weak into the powerful. It can take a mind from one extreme to another and back again.

Think about it for a moment, but in a way that won’t require clean underwear. You come home stressed. You’re upset, anxious, and unable to relax. Then, your lover enters the room. He or she offers to tie you up, lay you out, and make it so you can’t focus on any of the crap that’s stressing you out.

Or maybe your lover has a different approach. Maybe he or she enters the room in handcuffs wearing nothing but a mask, a gag, and leather boots. They offer you a chance to dominate and control them in ways that you can’t do in any other aspect of your life. Can you see how that would be a powerful rush for someone?

It’s a power that can affect both men and women alike. Both genders can be submissive. Both genders can be dominate. Both can do so in their own unique way, crafting their own unique strategy. It gives everyone the power to mold their own experience. That’s something you’re just not going to get with whiskey, cigarettes, or other illicit drugs.

If we’re going to apply this to caveman logic, as I’m prone to do on this blog, we can see why this mind-altering appeal is there in the first place. Our brains are not precise tools. They’re blunt instruments. That’s why they’re prone to malfunction in bizarre ways. That’s also why they’re prone to have multiple types of orgasms.

It’s because the brain is wired for both pleasure and pain that BDSM has a naturally broad impact. It takes a mind to multiple extremes, from pleasure to pain, in a very intimate setting. Being such a crude instrument, that’s bound to alter someone’s mental state. It’s also bound to impact brain chemistry, hence the mental health impact.

This means that feelings like love, intimacy, pleasure, and pain are all going to be mixed into one potent pool of experience. Our brains, being so crude, aren’t equipped to process every one of them individually all at once. There’s bound to be some mixing and mashing going on. There’s bound to be a flood of chemical cocktails swarming around in our brain matter. Like the chemical cocktails we drink, smoke, or inject, it alters our state of mind.

Like any mind-altering experience, chemical or otherwise, it can be abused and misused. People can overdue it. People can get hurt. Then again, people can drink too much and get hung over. People can smoke too much and get lung cancer. It all comes down to moderation and understanding what you’re doing. Like being a mechanic or a brain surgeon, it helps to learn and refine your craft.

I like to think I offer some help with my books, but I understand that only goes so far. As BDSM becomes more mainstream, the taboo that keeps people from exploring it will become less an issue. If people can more freely discuss their intimate needs, then I say that’s a net benefit, especially to those exploring their kinky side.

There’s still a ways to go. We’re still not at a place when we can openly discuss how we like being tied up or what sort of whips we enjoy without getting awkward glares at Starbucks. We’re on our way though and I do hope some of my books will help with that. Using BDSM to enter an altered state is just one of the many benefits that our capacity for intimacy offers. On top of that, the side-effects are way less painful than hangovers.

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