Afterward we amused ourselves by coming up with titles for an autobiography I will almost certainly never write. The top two were Rum, Sodomy and the Lash: A Farm Wife's Descent Into Depravity, or possibly All Of Her Twisted.

The first one is not entirely accurate, since I don't really drink rum much. Somehow "white Russian" doesn't have the same ring to it.

Earlier in the evening, my Master asked me to help him with writing a letter of recommendation for a student. He wanted it to be good so we spent a lot time on grammar, specific examples and word choices. I was wearing a pink shirt and long black skirt, with a silk robe over to keep a little warmer on a cool night. He told me to take off my shirt, but I left the skirt and robe. With no sash, the robe hung open as I stood behind him or sat on a stool at his feet, helping with the letter. It took way too long to write, if you ask me, which he did not.

Finally we headed up to the bedroom. We stood in front of the window and he stroked my hair and face, kissing me gently. Then his eyes and tone changed and he called me rough endearments: cocksucker, slut, bitch. "Get on your goddamn knees" and I felt them buckle on their own with no conscious thought. I tried to take his cock in my mouth but he pulled away, chiding "ah, ah, I didn't say that" and he patted my cheeks with his dick, patted my nose and lips as I looked up at him silently begging for it. "How can I take you tonight, slave" he asked me. There is only one right response: "Any way you want, Master". He placed his cock between my lips and I sucked eagerly.

He positioned me on the floor, tied leather thongs around my wrists and a collar on my neck. When I was crouched on all fours he pulled my dress up and set about spanking my ass thoroughly. It was well warmed up in a few minutes, and tingling-- he then laid down with me over him and said the game was for me to time my in and out head bobbing motions while sucking him to his right and left swats on my butt. This seemed like a simple task and I was sure I could do it. However after about 5 or 6 hard swats my brain had turned into something quite fuzzy and I could no longer tell if I was going in or out or keep any sort of rhythm at all. "You're hopeless" he said and went and got his belt. I crouched down again and the much harder blows started raining on my ass and thighs. I did not count blows but I was whimpering quietly and was very close to using a safeword because I didn't think I could take any more. I shifted position slightly and he must have read my body language that I had had enough because he stopped then.

He had me start blowing him again on my knees in front of him and this time the belt was tapping everywhere- my ear, my back, my thighs, my sides and arms and feet. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me think of what could be.

"Stand up" he said, and helped pull me up since I was a bit shaky. We went to the bed and my Master held my wrists over my head as he entered me. He rolled me over and fucked me that way too. He spit on my ass and shoved his thumb in deep and hard with the saliva as lubricant. I almost immediately came, and he picked up speed until I came again and then he did as well.

Afterward... well, it's up at the beginning of the story.