dominant

**This story picks up right after “Piggie’s Day Out ends.  While it can be read alone, it would be best if you read that story first**

**It is also important to note that this story delves into breaking a submissive mentally and then continuing with play.  The items in this story are consensual and line up with the TPE dynamic I have in real life**

My eyes open quickly, and my breathing is erratic.  It takes me a minute to remember where I am.  I take a deep breath and just savor the feel of my cheek on your thigh.  I must have moved while we were sleeping Sir.  My head feels fuzzy and my body is sore.  I peak at the clock on the hotel nightstand next to you and it reads a blurry 2:30am.  

The longer I lay there, the more muddled my mind becomes.  Your body is warm against mine, but right now, even that is bringing me little comfort.  I move the sheet and slowly slide from the bed to avoid waking you.  I pad silently to the bathroom and close the door softly before I start the shower.

My body is shivering.  I don’t feel very good Sir.  I am going to try and figure myself out before the daylight.  I know you have more planned for this weekend and I refuse to be the reason your plans alter.

I cannot stand a hot shower normally.  But, right now, I turn it as hot as I can handle it.  I step in, shut the curtain behind me, and sit down.  I bring my knees to my chest, lean my head back, and close my eyes.  I can feel my skin burning under the hot spray, but I find myself not caring.  I will pay for it later when my hands and legs swell from the heat.  The steam is so thick it is hard to breathe.  

I cannot figure out why I feel so out of sorts.  It is like I am inches from drowning.  And no sooner do I think it, the tears start.  I try to hold it in.  The walls are thin in the hotel and I have no desire to interrupt your sleep.  If I cannot figure out why I feel like this, I doubt you will know either.  

I don’t know how long I sat there before the I couldn’t hold back the sobbing anymore.  Why do I feel like this Sir?  Why do I feel so empty inside?

I rested my head against the wall when the sobs lessen, and I closed my eyes for a minute.  I should get back into bed before you wake.  But my arms and legs feel like lead.  I am going to sit here for a few more minutes.  I open my eyes and stare at the knobs.  I should turn down the temperature.

I feel a touch on my shoulder, and I jump.  My eyes are wild in panic and my breathing is erratic.  Where am I?  What is going on?

“You are safe sweetie.  You are with me.”  I can hear you Sir.  My eyes blink rapidly as I shake my head and try and figure out what is going on.  My body is shivering and suddenly I feel very cold.  “You are safe sweetie.  Look at me.”  My neck feels weak and I am struggling to lift my head.  I keep trying to find you.  “You can do it.  Come on.  Look up here.”   My head lulls backwards and I blink slowly this time.

Suddenly, I can see you Sir.  Your dark eyes are staring down at me with worry.  What is wrong?  Why are you awake this early?

“Let’s get you dried off.”  You wrap your arms around me and lift me up from the tub.  I feel awfully dry for being in the shower.  You grab a towel off the rack and I shakily stand there as you dry me off.  I step out and let you lead me back to the bed.  Once you sit down, my knees give out.

I don’t understand what has happened and all I want to do is apologize.  It is only because you require a reason for an apology that keeps me from breaking down in a litany of “I’m sorry.”  I lay my head against your thigh and find comfort when your hand immediately tangles in my hair.  

We sit there quietly for a few before you ask me to climb back into bed and curl up with you.  As I scoot closer to you, I see the time on the clock.  4am.  

I think I understand your worry now.

I didn’t take a two-hour shower.  I zoned out.  I am guessing you found me in the shower, cold water turning me blue, and tried to wake me.  It explains why I am so cold.  I look up at you and you meet my eyes, and you cover me with an additional blanket.  I smile softly.  I am fine.  At least, I will be now.  

Let’s talk about this in a few more hours.  Maybe then we can figure out why I feel like I just jeopardized our whole weekend.

I woke slowly this time.  Your fingers were running through my hair.  My eyes opened and I am in the same position I fell asleep.  My head rests heavy on your thigh and I am staring at your feet as the tv croons in the background.  Slowly, I turn my head to look up at you.

“Good morning Sir.”  

“Good morning my little piggie.”  You smile at me.  I love your smile.  It always makes me feel at ease.  

I shift up next to you so I can get some kisses.  

“How are you feeling sweetie?”  My forehead creases in thought.  I feel fine.  My body is sore, and I am feeling a little tired, but I feel ok.

“I’m fine Sir.  I feel tired.  If it falls within our plans, I may need to take a nap later.”

You are staring Sir.  My body wants to fold under your gaze.  I do not understand why you are staring at me so intently.  What are you looking for?

“Are you going to tell me about last night?”

I sigh.  “There is nothing to tell, Sir.  I woke up and didn’t feel very good, so I decided to take a shower.  You came in at the end of it and helped me back to bed.”

“No, I got up to find you sitting in the tub, shivering, as the cold water rained down on you.  You were non-responsive.  Once I turned the water off, it was another ten before you answered me.”

“Oh.”  I don’t remember that.  I don’t really remember much beyond sitting in the hot shower and then having You dry me off.  “I am sorry Sir.  It is all kind of fuzzy.”

“How are you doing?  Honestly.” 

“Honestly, Sir, I am fine.  I feel good, other than being sore from yesterday’s activities, and my emotions are settled.  As I mentioned, I may ask for a nap later but otherwise, I am fine.”

You hug me close and kiss the top of my head.  “Alright.  If it changes, you will tell me.”

“Always, Sir.”

“Good Girl.”

After breakfast, you let me know that you have a couple errands to run.  I let you know that I just need to get dressed.  You stop me.

“You are going to stay here, piggie, and get some rest.  I have plans for us tonight and I need you to be at your best.”  My shoulders drop.  

“Are you mad at me Sir?”  I cannot help that this is my natural reaction.  You rarely refuse my company.

“No.  This is because I know you.  You will push yourself until you are so exhausted you drop.  I am grounding you, for your own good, until I get back.  You are going to put your phone aside and take a short nap.  I should be back soon.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”  

I am both saddened that I must stay here but intrigued as to what you have planned.  Should I fear what you have set up for me, Sir?  

My heart is racing as I am jerked awake.  I am on my back and there is a heavy weight across my hips.  It takes just a minute before I recognize you.  Your knees are locking my wrists to my sides.  I take a few deep breaths before your hand comes down hard on my mouth and nose.  My eyes widen as my brain connects that I cannot breathe.  I am trying to conserve the air I took in but before long I am struggling.  I am trying to rock you from my hips, but I cannot get any leverage.  I am franticly trying to move my head from your hand, but it is not working.  Just when I think I cannot take anymore, you let me breathe.  

1 breath. 2 breaths.  And on the third, the pressure is back.  My chest is heaving as I start struggling anew.  My heels are digging into the bed as I try to bend my knees and knock your center of balance.  You relent once again. Three seconds and this time as one hand covers my mouth and nose, the other is pressed against my neck.  The pressure on all sides has the edges of my vision darkening.  The strain on my chest is extreme.  The more I struggle to turn my head, the harder you press.  I think it is only the give of the mattress that keeps me from passing out at this point.  My hands are twitching against your knees.  I do not have the strength to kick my legs anymore.  I wonder if this is the time I finally pass out.

And, as though you can hear my thoughts, the pressure is gone.  My chest heaves with deep breaths and my eyes are shut tightly as I try to get my bearings.  I can feel your weight shifting back enough that I am able to pull my wrists free.  I move them out of your way but leave them stretched out at my waist.  When I feel settled, my eyes open and I find your gaze.  All I can do is smile.  

The fear.  The struggle.  The adrenaline.

“Mmm, thank you, Sir.”

A deep rumble comes from your chest.  You always seem so amused when I come from a place of intense fear and struggle to this soft, doe-eyed submissive who smiles from the experience.  We call it my “drugged out” state because I look at you with wide eyes, a dopey drunken smile, and looking high as fuck.

So far, this has been one hell of an up and down day, and I am positive it is far from over.

It has been a relatively relaxed day for us.  It is not often we have this much time together.  It is nice.  I have spent most of the morning curled up with you.  It is early afternoon now and you said we have to head out around 4pm.  Only about an hour to go and I find my anxiety is slowly building.  I trust you Sir.  I know that you will always make sure I am cared for.  But I also know you are skilled at mind-fucking and are able to leave me so confused I will fail to know my own name.

You move back to the chair you were in last night.  The one that brings flashes of humiliation to mind.  

You snap your fingers twice.  I shake my head to clear my mind.  I know what that means.  I slide from the bed, onto my knees, and crawl over to you.  I keep eye contact, as you prefer.  I stop just in front of you, kneel up, and rest my hands on my thighs.

“Tonight, I have plans for you piggie.  Plans that I am positive may cause you to forget yourself.”  You put your fingers under my chin and pull me up slightly.  “I worry about you.  Especially after what happened this morning.  Do you need to talk?”

“No, Sir.  Today has been a good day.  As of right now, I am fine.”

“What is your safeword?”

I am silent for longer than I expected.  You never ask me that.  I know the answer.  I teach it to others, as do you.  Why would you feel the need to ask me?  What do you have planned Sir?

“Piggie.”  I jerk out of my thoughts.

“I apologize Sir.  My word is Red.”

“Good piggie.”  You let go of my chin and smack my cheek lightly.  “Right now, you and I are going to center.  We are going to work on your self-control and remind you who is in charge.  You will not speak.  You will stay here for however long I require.  Should your knees get too uncomfortable, you may readjust onto your ass.  Is that clear?”  

“Yes, Sir.”

You unzipped your jeans and pulled out your cock.  “You will hold me in your mouth.  You will not suck, lick, tease, or otherwise attempt to play.  You will simply keep my cock warm.”

I am surprised but I enjoy using my mouth.  I fill my mouth with spit to moisten it.  I settle your cock into my mouth until my nose is nestled in your curls.  I see you pull out your phone, completely ignoring me.  I wonder how long you will keep us here.  Will this be until we head out?  Do you have something else planned?  

It takes ten minutes before my mind shuts off.  I have been on edge for the entire trip.  Everything you have me do leaves me with hundreds of questions.  I think this is the reason you are doing this.  You want me to sink into my service.  You want me to have peace of mind in my submission.  You know how hard it is for my mind to shut down.  Now, instead of wondering about tonight, I am fighting myself.  All I want to do is suck.  It is not even with a particular goal in mind.  I just want to suck on you.  I find it both relaxing and an emotional release.  The fact that it teases you is just an added benefit.  

I have looked up at you at frequent intervals.  You do not seem to notice my presence at all.  You are happily wrapped up in your phone.  Even when I readjust my position, you do not once look at me.  It drives my desire to suck even higher.  I want your attention.  I want you to look at me as I suck and lick you to hardness.  I want to feel you harden between my lips and for you to shove your cock down my throat until I am gagging.  I want you to pinch my nose as I gag so that I am struggling to breathe.   I want you to face-fuck me so hard my jaw feels wrenched from its socket.  I want whatever you will give me.

But it isn’t about what I want.  It is about following your directions without question.  It is about connecting with my submission and letting go of my anxiety and inhibitions.  It is about recognizing that sometimes I will have to do things in a way I may not agree with.  

It is about accepting and honoring Your Dominance.

You kept me there for somewhere near a half hour before you paid any attention to me.  You simply told me to stop and kneel up from my seated position.  I knelt there, watching you.  Without another word, I watched you slowly bring yourself to hardness.  I watched you tease yourself.  I watched you play.

This is torture. I hate, more than almost anything, not being allowed to touch.  I absolutely despise it.  It always feels like punishment when it happens.  But I know better than to raise a fuss.  There is a reason to everything you do.  Just because I do not understand it, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t happen. 

My eyes never leave your hand.  I watch every move you make.  I know if I look you in the eye, my resolve will break.  I will start to beg Sir.  Beg to touch you.  

Begging is the last thing you want to hear right now.

So, I watch.

When I hear the hitch of your breath, and you moan low in the back of your throat, I know you are close. Only then do I dare to meet your gaze.  As I do, you paint my face with your cum.  I feel it on my forehead and my cheeks.  And just to rub it in, you smear the last of it onto my lips.

I imagine I am quite an image Sir.  That feeling is only cemented when you pick up your discarded phone and I see the flash of your camera lens.

Why do I have the feeling there will be more pictures tonight Sir?  You seem to have developed a love of chronicling the humiliation of your piggie.

I sat there, covered in your cum, until you told me I could clean up.  I crawled into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and wet it in the tub.  I stayed on my knees while I cleaned up and then crawled back to you.  

I leaned down, kissed each boot three times, and laid my forehead down to the floor.  “Thank you, Sir.”

I decided to wear a short, cotton summer dress tonight.  In a rare change of circumstance, you told me undergarments were not needed.  I say it as though I had a choice in the matter.  We both know I did not.

As far as I am aware, you left my piggie gear at the hotel.  It matters little in the long run though.  I am not your pet, who needs dressed up to find their headspace.  I am, at all times, your little piggie.  I am always willing to get down and dirty with anything you can dream up. Besides, you seem to love to make me squeal.

We were in the car for about half an hour before we got there.  I have never been to this area before, but you seem oddly at home.  You take each turn with confidence until we come to a stop in front of a house.  It seems so normal looking.  I doubt anyone would suspect what hides behind those doors.

I am unsure of how tonight will go.  Normally, I would drown my anxiety by unloading and setting up your electrical gear.  Your gear usually takes up half of the back of our van.  It takes me fifteen to unload and another half hour to set up properly.  It is even longer to take down and pack it away.  But, for some reason, your gear did not come with us.  I am so used to taking care of you Sir, of negotiating your pick-up play, and keeping an eye on everything, I feel very out of my element without those distractions.  

Once the car was off, you pull the keys from the ignition and I watch you turn down the volume on both of our phones.  You tuck them into the inner pocket of your vest.  “I am going to hold onto these, sweetie.  If you need yours, come talk to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You put your hand on mine.  “You can do this.  I will be with you every step of the way.”

“I know Sir.  I am just nervous.”

“Good.  You should be.”

I shook my head.  I have no doubt you mean that.

I step out of the vehicle and make sure the door is locked.  I shut the door and wait for you.  

I will never tire of seeing you in your gear Sir.  My eyes always land on your boots first.  I have a healthy love of your boots.  From polishing them with my kit to licking them clean, I have yet to find something I dislike about them.  They are the defining feature of your headspace for me.  Because, regardless of the position I am in, they are always the first and last thing I see when I submit.

“We have one last thing to do before we go in.”  I cocked my head in question.  Two snaps.  I kneel, awaiting your direction.  

Then, I saw them.

You brought my cuffs Sir; two black strips of leather, stamped with the very first name you ever gave me: Pain Slut.  They bring me security and comfort when you put them on me.  

I held my arms in front of me and offered you my wrists.  Once you buckle them on, I feel safe.  Between being here with you and having the opportunity to wear my cuffs and collar, I know that no matter what happens behind those doors, I will be fine.

Because you wouldn’t let it be any other way.

You walk up to the door and knock.  I stay behind you.  I prefer to remain unseen when possible.  

You greet the man at the door like an old friend.  You do not introduce me as we step inside, and I do not ask.  I simply observe.  I follow you as the man leads you through the house.  We navigate a narrow hallway that opens into a large open living room space with large sliding glass doors.  I can see the burning end of cigarettes through the door, so I assume it is accessible to guests as well.  There are chairs interspersed throughout the area and I could hear smacks from down another hallway.  I guessed that there were people behind the closed doors, but I had no plans to investigate.  I have never seen a party so small, but I imagine this is the way of the world now.  From what I can tell, there is less than fifteen of us.  So far, I do not see any other submissives.  I hope that just means they are behind the closed doors.  

I waited quietly as you reacquainted yourself with old friends.  Once you take a seat against the back wall, nearest to the sliding doors, I kneel next to you.  My head rests on the outside of your thigh and your hand comes to rest on my head.  The hum of conversation is hard to follow for me.  There is too much noise, and each of you talks too low, for me to follow.  I close my eyes and rest.  If you need me, I know that you will make it known.

You seem to be enjoying yourself.  Your laughter, quiet as it is, brings me peace.  It makes me happy to see you so comfortable.  

I have been quiet while you are visiting.  It feels right.  I tip my head back to get your attention.  Your hand moves from my hair as you glance down at me.

“Yes?”

“May I go to the restroom Sir?”  I am unfamiliar with this house and where I should go.  Normally, you just let me slip away with a quiet acknowledgement but that is not possible right now.

“You may.  It is down the hall, last door on the left.”

“Will you help me up Sir?  My legs are numb.” 

You smile broadly.  “You are cute.  You may crawl.  I am going to enjoy the view.”  Thank you for reminding me about how short my dress is and the fact that you banned undergarments tonight.  

I can feel my cheeks flush.  “Yes Sir.”

I fall forward onto my arms.  My legs have gone numb, but it is not the first time I have had to make them move without feeling.  Sometimes I consider it a blessing that I deal with intermittent paralysis.

It is the longest hallway I have ever been down Sir.  Ok, not really.  But I can feel your eyes on me.  I feel extremely exposed.  I have been naked dozens of times.  It has never been as nerve wracking as this.

Once I make it to the door, I kneel up and wait.  The bathroom is occupied.  I keep my eyes focused on the bottom corner of the door, near the hinge.  I am too uncomfortable to look around and see if anyone has noticed me.  I squeeze my legs together tightly.  I need this person to hurry up or I am going to end up having an accident.  That might be a humiliation that even I cannot deal with.

I crawl back to you and as I pass in front of you, you stick your boot out to stop me.  I look up at you, wondering what I can do for you.

“My friends enjoyed the view as much as I did.”  My head turns slightly, and my shoulders come up.  It is a sure sign of my embarrassment.  “I think it is only fair you treat them to more for hosting us.  Wouldn’t you agree piggie?”  

Your question is rhetorical.  I know that.  You do not wish for an answer, so I remain silent.

“You were very lax in your duties piggie.  My boots are quite dirty form our travels.”  My eyes shift to your boots.  It is a blow to my gut to hear you say that.  I try very hard to keep your gear in good, clean condition.  As I stare at the dirt on your boots, I know you are correct.  It hurts to see that.  I bite the inside of my lip and try to keep my face stoic.  “I think it is only fair you clean them now.  Get to it.”

Deep breath.  That is what I tell myself.

I start to lean down but your boot stops me again.  “Face me. Let them have a good view.  Make sure to spread your legs wide piggie.”  You are determined to break me Sir.  No one gets to see me like this.  I reserve this kind of humiliation and degradation for you and you alone.  

My word sits heavy in my tongue.  I swallow it down.  I can do this.

I don’t need it yet.

I turn to face you and back up enough for me to head to the floor.  I do as you commanded and spread my legs wider.  I shift my hips enough that my hips shouldn’t freeze in place.  The air is cold on my lips and my hole clenches automatically.  I fill my mouth with spit, just to moisten my tongue.  I know from experience that my mouth, and tongue, will dry out quickly.

I lower my head and enthusiastically being servicing your boots.  I started with your left boot, as I always do.  You move your right one up to rest on my back.  Normally, I can relax at the feeling of being your footstool. Not tonight.  

I have a feeling I am going to be here awhile.  

After I finish your left boot, you switch places effortlessly to give me access to your right boot.  I am only a few licks in when I feel a sharp sting to my pussy lips.  My body jerks a little bit, but your boot holds me in place.

Then I feel it again.

And again.

I would bet it is the crop.  The sting of it is unique.  

Another hit.  

I don’t know how I feel about this.  You never let people touch me with impact toys.  You are far too protective of me.  So, this is extremely new territory.

“Pay attention to your task piggie.  Otherwise, I will punish you.”

Damn you and your observations. Sir.  

I push the thoughts from my head and get back to cleaning your boot.  I can hear the murmur of your voice, but I cannot understand you.  You must be speaking quieter so I cannot anticipate what will happen.  

It is not long before I feel someone separating my lips.  The air is cold to my exposed clit.  It makes the sting of the next hit hurt all the worse.  My legs shake.  I am trying to focus.  I am halfway done.  It won’t be much longer.

Again, and again.  The hits have no rhythm, and they vary in strength.  They are not extremely rough, but they are making my flesh tender.  It is also turning me on.  I am still sore from the brutal use yesterday by your friends Sir.  Are you planning another round?

The hits only continue until I have finished your boots.  Once done, the hands leave my body.   Your boots lift from my back and are placed back to the ground in front of me.  My hips ache with the position I am in, but I make no move to readjust without your say so.

Two snaps.

I am never so thankful as I am right now that I understand what that means.  

I slowly lift myself up and move back to the side of your chair.  I am careful to keep my eyes on the floor.  I cannot bring myself to face my audience.  You tap my head and as I look up at you, you make a hand gesture that I am ready to bite you for.  You motion for me to sit.  Which would be fine if it wasn’t the same hand signal you have trained the dog with.  You outright laugh at me as I glare at you.  You make the hand signal a second time.  You are counting down to my compliance.  Fine.  I will sit.

Asshole.

Your hand is tangled in my hair almost as soon as I think the thought.  

Jesus, did I say that out loud.  

“I think you are forgetting yourself.”  You stand abruptly.  You drag me to my feet by my hair.  My eyes are watering from the pain.

You thrust me forward and let go of my hair.  I barely manage to stay standing.

“Present.”  Your voice is hard.  Why do I have to be in my head so much?  All it does is backfire on me.

I spread my feet shoulder-width apart, put my hands behind my head, and interlace my fingers.  I keep my eyes on the floor.  I try to calm my breathing.  I tried so hard to be good Sir.  All I have done is upset you.  My stomach is in knots right now.  I am positive I am going to throw up.

I breathe deep through my nose.  At this point, I refuse to open my mouth.  Even for air.

“I think I have been too lenient with you, piggie.  I have spoiled you and now we need to reaffirm your place.”  Your fingers grab my nipples.  You tug and twist harshly as you talk. “I have thought about something like this for a while now.  You love pain far too much my little pain slut.  So, I had to get” you pull upward and bring me up onto my toes “creative.”  You let go and I rock back onto my heels as your hands come down hard on both my breasts.  I grit my teeth against the pain.

You extend your hand outside of my line of sight.  When you have what you are reaching for, you bring it up for me to see.

Lipstick.

What the fuck are you planning to do with lipstick?

You stripped me of my dress, tossing it carelessly to the side.  I am completely exposed now.

You, and your friends, ran the lipstick up and down my body.  None of the lines seem to make sense.  I stare at a fixed point on the wall.  Each of you move with confidence.  I am more stressed that I do not understand what you are doing than I am that I am in trouble.  I prefer quick, concise punishment.  Physical or otherwise, I want to be absolved of my crime and be reassured that you are no longer upset.

Once everyone moved away, the flashes begin.  I make my first mistake then.  My head turns to see where you are.  Without hesitation, I feel your hand connect with my cheek.  

You…you backhanded me, Sir.

My head snaps back into place.

There are back-to-back flashes.  I know your phone Sir.  It cannot process a flash that quickly.  There is more than one camera.  

I do not like this.  

I dislike others seeing me like this.  I dislike it even more that they will have a permanent shot of me, humiliated and struggling.

I am biting the inside of my lip.  You have always told me that the most memorable punishments are public.  As much as I dislike this, I do not believe in safewording out of a punishment.  I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

You grab my chin roughly and make eye contact with me.  “I expected better of you.  Maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations of a dirty little piggie.”  Your words hurt Sir.  It is worse than any physical blow.  “Since you are so anxious to see yourself, take a look.”  You hold the phone up for me to see the pictures.  It is not your phone.  My fears are confirmed.

My body is covered with words.  I can see the word Piggie on my forehead.  I remember the feel of you writing it.  The other words are less kind.  

Dirty. Slut. Whore. Just a hole. 

Those are the easy ones.  I can get behind those. 

Fat.  Brat.  Defiant.

Those are harder.  I disagree with them.

But, there, across my stomach, is the word Disappointment.

That is the hardest to see.  I am wracking my brain, trying to figure out if you had written on my tummy.  Of course, it is across the area of my body I hate the most.  It says I am the one thing I try so hard not to be.

I blink back the tears.

This is the hardest thing you have put me through, Sir.

I would have preferred the physical punishment Sir.  You did let me sit next to your chosen chair afterwards.  I sat cross-legged because you knew I could not kneel any longer.  I keep my head down and stay quiet.  My head is muddled again.

I have never shied from following orders from you.  I have always told you that I am yours, to do with as you please, when and where you wish.  

It wasn’t until this moment that I realized how hard that can be.  It is so easy to believe what I say but moments like this make me doubt myself.  Sometimes I wonder if I can really do this.  Why do I feel like I have lied to you?  

I am unsure what time it is now.  I feel like I have been sitting here for a long time.  Yet, I know that time passes differently when I am in this kind of headspace.

I am almost thankful you have not cuddled me Sir.  As much as I desire your touch, I feel I might crack.  

I am determined to see this through though.  I wonder if you are pushing me for your enjoyment or to see what it takes to hear me safeword.  

It has been on the tip of my tongue for hours now.  But I am not ready to use it yet.  I know that, at the end of this, you will pick me back up.  I have asked you more than once to break me.  

You may finally have taken my words to heart.

My eyes keep drifting closed.  I am so tired Master.  I see you crouch down in front of me and I try to force my body to get into position.  You place your hand on my shoulder and hold me where I am.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

I don’t want to.  I don’t want you to see that my head is a mess.  I don’t want you to see me so insecure during service.  

But I feel like I have already disappointed you tonight and I cannot fathom being the cause of that again.

I look up at you, my eyes half-lidded with tiredness.  

I know you see it.  The way you look at me has softened considerably from earlier.  You put one hand on my cheek and rest your thumb against my lips.  I shake my head slightly.  There are some vulnerabilities I am unwilling to share.  My body can be given out.  But the comfort I find in that reward, cannot.

“Are you ready to go home sweetie?”

I close my eyes, lean into your touch, and nod my head slightly.  

You lean forward and give me three kisses.  You lean your forehead to mine and softly whisper, “You have done well piggie.  I am so proud of you.”  

That’s when the tears start clinging to my eyelashes.

You wipe the tears away with your thumbs.  “Let’s get you dressed.”  You must have grabbed my dress before you came over.  You slip it carefully over my head and then put your hand out to help me up.

I move to kiss your boots, as I do at the end of every scene.  You stop me.

I am slightly frantic at that.  I need this closure.  I need to know this was just a scene.

“Shh.  Not yet, sweetie.  We are going to get you home and cleaned up before this scene is over.  I will not have you see these words all over you outside of service.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You help me up and wrap your arm around my shoulder.  I hesitate to lean on you.  I do not want to get lipstick all over your leather.  You don’t hesitate to pull me in close.  

“Leather washes.  It will give you something to do tomorrow.”

I laugh softly.  I will never understand how you know me so well.

“That’s my good girl.”

My body is cold and filthy, and I am so tired.  I must have dozed off on the drive.  We are back at the hotel already.  You wrap me in the blanket from the car.  We enter through a side door. 

Thank you for not taking me through the lobby.

We get back into the room without running into anyone.

“Strip down and into the tub.”

I comply.  I sit down on the cold porcelain.  

You follow me a few minutes later.  You are naked from the waist up Sir.  It is not often I see you out of gear when I am still in a scene.

“Turn and face me, piggie.”

I turn so my back is to the wall and I am sitting cross-legged in the middle of the tub.

“I have shared you this weekend, piggie.  I have let others bring both your fantasies and your nightmares come true.  I have set you on a rollercoaster to test your resilience.  But, I want you to have no doubt that you belong to me.  You are mine.  My little pain slut, my subbie, and my piggie.”

Suddenly I knew what you were going to do.  And I was at peace with it.

I closed my eyes just before I felt the warm liquid hit my hair.  You are pissing on me.  You are marking me as yours.  I am not offended as I probably should be.  I am comforted.  It is as though you are washing everything else away, even if you really are just making me extra filthy.

When you are finished, I just keep my eyes closed and feel it drip down my face.  Before I think to turn on the water, you have the shower running.  Silently, you begin to wash me.  I feel you scrubbing the sweat, piss, and lipstick from my body.  It feels like you are washing away all the humiliation from the last couple nights.  It will physically be gone.  However, I know that it will be imprinted in my mind for a long time.  There are aspects that cut far deeper than I could have imagined.

I could never have done this with anyone else.  You give me the strength to push myself like this.  You give me the strength to hold my safeword back so I can experience things I had kept locked in the dark for most of my life.

Your touch is so soft.  It soothes the pain inside.

When the sobbing starts, you just hold me.  I am sure we are getting water all over the floor, but it doesn’t seem to bother you.  You don’t say a word.  You let me work through everything, silently giving me support.

When the sobs slow to hiccups, you wash my hair.  You rinse it carefully, trying to avoid getting water in my ears.

Just as we were in the early hours of dawn, you dry me off and help me to bed.  

You sit down on the bed and I kneel down.

No matter how exhausted I am, I have two things I need to do.

I lean down, still wrapped in the towel, with my hair dripping everywhere, and kiss each boot three times.  I press my head to the carpet between them and thank you.

Then I kneel up and work to remove your boots.

As I place them by the nightstand, I realize something.  

No matter what we do, how much I let myself be mind-fucked, as long as I always end up right here, at your feet, I will be fine.

My name is Joji.  I am 29 years old currently and I have been in and around the kink community about 15 years.I am a collared submissive to Magick42.  I am also a Daddy to a wonderful babygirl, and have been for more than three years now and I find it very fulfilling.  I am being mentored in and being taught electroplay.  I am a masochist at heart and thoroughly love impact play, especially caning.  I enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on and am a die hard Harry Potter and Doctor Who fan.  I am also the secretary for a group in Idaho called Moscow S.P.A.R.K.E (Simply Providing Another Route to Kink Education).  It is our mission to teach safe practices to those new to the community and give them a safe haven to ask questions and learn without judgement.  We accept all kinks and all we ask in return is respect between all our members.