“N-no, Sir,” she wheezed, barely able to form the words.
He continued to hold her by the throat, gripping it hard so that her face reddened, her eyes bugging out as she clawed ineffectually at his hands.
“She’s punished,” he told her, as if she didn’t know. “Soundly.”
When he let her go, she gasped, sucking in air like a fish out of water. “Oh, please,” she begged. “I’m sorry. Please don’t punish me, Sir. I’ll do—”
Again he cut her off. “You can’t seem to keep your mouth shut tonight, can you? I’ll have to help you then.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Pulling open the nightstand drawer, he took out her ball gag. Getting to his feet, he pointed to the floor. “On your knees, cunt.”
Alana scrambled from the bed and knelt in front of him. She knew better than to wipe his precious seed from her breasts. “Open wide,” he said, bringing the rubber ball to her lips. He shoved it in and secured the harness tightly around her head.
Taking her arm, he hoisted her to her feet and led her down the hall to the dungeon playroom. The full moon cast the room in an eerie silver glow, and he quite liked the effect. He decided to leave off the lights as he led her to the pulley apparatus. Securing her arms above her on the suspension bar, he ratcheted up the bar until she was on tiptoe.
“Tonight we will use the cane.”
Alana’s eyes widened in terror. She was right to be afraid. The cane, if not used properly, could cut the flesh and permanently damage the skin. Luckily for her, Mark knew what he was doing. He would mark her flesh with lovely welts. They would remain for a day or two, a proper reminder of her failure to ask her Master for permission in all things.
Anticipatory tears rolled down her pretty face. Behind the bright red ball she made muffled, pleading sounds, but Mark was impervious.
“A slut who doesn’t remember to ask permission must be punished. Do I make myself clear, cunt girl?”
Alana nodded miserably. She looked stunningly beautiful, her pale, supple flesh bathed in the silver of the moonlit night. Mark came very close to her and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Bending lower, he kissed and lightly bit each beautiful nipple, tasting his own salty jism, which had dried there. Despite his recent climax, his cock began to harden again.
“Prepare,” he said, as he walked slowly around the naked, suspended woman, “to suffer.”
He brought the cane with a well-aimed thwack across her gorgeous ass.
Predictably, Alana screamed behind her gag and swayed forward.
“Stay still,” he barked. “Don’t move out of position again. Take what’s coming to you.” He struck her again, adding another sexy welt just below the first. He loved the whistle of the rattan just before it made contact with flesh, then the deeply satisfying sound of impact, followed by her muffled, gurgling cry.
He let a sharp blow land against the backs of her thighs, and she twisted in her restraints. Because she was on tiptoe, she couldn’t maintain her balance and swung around toward him. His cane, already in midflight for the next stroke, missed its intended target, instead striking her belly, the tip landing on her bare mons. At once, an angry red welt rose on the spot.
“Stupid girl,” he said. “That was your fault.”
Alana swayed in her chains, her eyes rolling upward. Alarmed, Mark dropped the cane. She was still conscious, though clearly on the verge of collapse. Quickly, Mark released her arms, catching her as she slumped down to the ground.
Though his initial impulse was to carry her to bed and cover her welts with kisses, she would never learn if she didn’t fully experience the consequence of her actions. Rather than reward her for coming without permission and moving out of position, he had to complete the punishment.
Lifting her into his strong arms, he carried her into the bedroom and on into the closet. The cage door was ajar, and he maneuvered her into the small space. He unbuckled her gag and pulled it from her mouth. Then he shut the cage door and clicked the padlock into place.
Mark woke again as the sun was coming up. He’d left the closet doors open, and he listened a moment but heard no sound. Throwing back the covers, he got to his feet and went to check on his charge.
She was curled in her usual fetal ball, her back to him, her hair obscuring her face. Her ass was nicely welted with a series of red lines already fading to pink. As he came farther into the closet, she lifted her head slowly and twisted back to fix him with a pleading gaze.