Assignment 3 by anonymouse

[anonymouse]

Melissa's Punishment

Your response to my email arrived more quickly than I anticipated. The sight of the message alert and subject header, 'RE: List', caused a tingle of uncertain delight. I shivered. The text of your reply stole my breath:

"Dear Melissa,

Your list has not been completed to my satisfaction. When I told you to choose two non-scene people, I expected you to give me the names and contact details for two unconnected individuals, not one couple. You also have chosen a couple well known to you and thus not simply acquaintances, as I asked you to do. I am yet to decide how to punish you for this but, be assured, you will be punished."

My first reaction was to feel bad that I had displeased you. However, each time I re-read the note, I felt increasingly saturated by a sense of dread. The final four words -- 'you will be punished' -- still resounded in my mind, even after I looked away from the screen. You had at various times during my training punished me for misdemeanors. For the most part, those punishments were well deserved and enjoyed in the playful spirit in which they were administered. However, this latest declaration to punish me sounded serious.

In the hours that followed, I contemplated an email to beg your forgiveness. You had always insisted to me that you were a kind and gentle Master, and I believed you. In fact, it was because of this I felt guilty about what I had done. Deep down, I knew in my heart when I added John and Whitney's name to the list, I was cheating. You caught me out. I deserved to be punished in whatever way you thought was fitting for my wrongdoing. When I wrote back, I apologized but made no attempt to undermine your decision.

The remainder of the day passed very slowly. At day's end, there was still no word from you. By the following morning, my anxiety about your impending punishment had grown to fully occupy my thoughts. I woke early after a fitful night's sleep and immediately checked for an email from you. There was one waiting:

"Dear Melissa,

You will receive your punishment instructions in online chat with me at 7 am. If you are late, or fail to show, I will send an email to one person on your list. That is all."

I glanced at the clock in my room. It showed several minutes after 7 am, but I wasn't entirely sure it was accurate. My pulse raced and my heart pounded so heavily in my chest, I found it difficult to breathe. I rushed to log into the chat window and silently cursed every second it took to open. You were there, as you promised you would be:

[You] Good morning, slave.

[Me] Good morning, Master.

There was a long pause. I watched for signs of your typing. There were none. Again, I looked at the clock and knew it was definitely after 7 am by now, but I didn't know whether I'd arrived in time or not. If I was late, you weren't saying.

[You] I have decided how you should be punished, Melissa. Are you ready?

[Me] Yes, Master.

Familiar sensations of excitement mixed with apprehension tickled inside my stomach.

[You] Good. You are to follow my instructions exactly. Is that clear?

[Me] Yes, Master.

[You] Let's begin. Have you showered yet today?

[Me] No, not yet, Master.

[You] Then you are to shower for me right now. After you have done so, you are to do your hair and make-up as you would normally, put on your black velvet 'day collar', then insert the blue penis-plug from your training kit into your ass. After you have done all this, return here for further instructions.

[Me] Yes, Master.

I followed all your instructions to the letter and returned, quickly as I could. The plug in my ass felt like a real cock. It was impossible to ignore the sensations of it, buried deep between my butt cheeks when I sat.

[Me] I'm back, Master.

[You] Good. Are you naked and collared?

[Me] Yes, Master.

[You] Good. Are you plugged and seated?

[Me] Yes, Master.

[You] Very good.

The way the conversation was going, I thought my punishment would
consist of nothing more than the discomfort of sitting on the penis-plug and the embarrassment of chatting online to you while plugged. However, it quickly transpired I was wrong.

[You] Now, let's get down to the business of your punishment. In order for this to be effective, I have decided to pay you a surprise visit and do this in person.

Ordinarily, I only saw you weekends because you lived a hundred miles
away. I expected to hear you knock on my door, but you had other plans.

[You] Melissa, I want you to take the fire escape stairs at the western end of the apartment block down to the basement. You are not to wear anything except for your collar and butt plug. I'll give you further instructions when I see you.

It took a moment for the shock of this to sink in. There wasn't a chance to ask any questions because the message window suddenly closed. Panic gripped me when I thought about the challenge I now faced. The fire escape was an internal concrete stairwell, and the chances of meeting anybody in it were remote. However, there were also thirty or more feet of corridor between my apartment and the fire escape, past my neighbors John and Whitney's apartment and several others. I glanced at the clock again. It was just on a quarter past eight, so it was likely most neighbors would have already left for work, but the risk I might be seen still frightened me.

I wished there was some way to contact you, but thoughts of this merely wasted time. So, I stood for a minute or so with my hand poised ready on the door handle. The hard lump of nerves I swallowed felt as large as a golf ball and another formed instantly in its place when I cautiously peered through the spy hole.

It was impossible to see anything except the wall on the other side of the hallway. There didn't appear to be any movement outside, and no sounds to be heard either. My hand trembled uncontrollably when I unlocked the door. I held it slightly ajar to look out into the hallway. There was no sign of anybody in either direction. A green and white illuminated exit sign at the fire escape stairs beckoned me.

The penis plug in my ass squirmed with every quick step I took toward the exit. I've never had to walk anywhere quickly with one inside me before, and the experience brought with it a whole world of new and unpleasant sensations. My brisk walk increased in speed until I was almost running. By the time I got to the fire escape door, my heart pounded. I felt breathless, both from the short, difficult run and the fear I might be seen.

Once inside the relative privacy of the fire escape, I had a moment to catch my breath. The smell of concrete in the enclosed stairwell was strong and its coldness underfoot made me shiver. I glanced up and down for signs of people. The stairwell sounded completely empty, except for the sound of my own shallow breathing and heartbeat that thumped like a log drum in my ears.

I negotiated the five flights down as quickly as I could. The fucking sensations in my ass were intense, but I endured them silently. When I finally reached the basement level, I paused a moment again to steel my nerves for any surprises. I pressed the door handle as quietly as I could and when the door opened, I immediately caught sight of you a short distance away.

You stood leaning up against a black, windowless van; your arms folded
casually across your chest. A broad smile beamed from your face.

"Over here, Melissa!" you called.

I cringed at the loud volume of your voice and the echoes of it that resounded around the half-empty basement car park.

"Hurry up!" you called again.

I knew the only way to make you quiet and avoid attention was to run to you.

"Stop!"

"What?" I panicked and thought you were trying to warn me of something.

"Is that any way for a slave to approach her Master?" you asked.

"Pardon me?" I felt completely out in the open, half way between the fire escape and the cover of your van.

"A slave must approach her Master slowly and respectfully. Now, go back to the door and try again."

There was clearly no way of debating the issue with you so, I returned to the door. I turned to face you; my hands clasped nervously behind my back.

"Good. Approach, slave," you said.

I had walked this way for you hundreds of times in the past, but never had the effect of your control been so powerful. Each step I took was small and practiced, and walking so made me acutely aware of my surroundings. It was as if you were the one point of safety in this public place, but you seemed to withhold that safety from me until I had proved my trust in you.

When I finally made it to you, you smiled and quietly praised me.

"That's very good, slave, but I still have to punish you," you said.

"Yes, Master," I nodded and bowed my head.

You then led me to the shadowy space behind your van. My attention was directed to two leather cuffs suspended by a chain that dangled from an exposed pipe overhead.

I held my arms aloft while you cuffed my wrists. Once secured, you
turned me to face the wall and then blindfolded me.

"Spread you legs, slave," you said.

I obediently eased my feet apart on the smooth, cold concrete and then felt hands on my ankles. The sudden realization that there were two separate pairs of hands to secure my ankles startled me. I was so alarmed by the surprise, I couldn't even speak, but I struggled a little bit nonetheless.

Once my ankles had been tethered, I felt completely vulnerable and helpless. Whoever the stranger was, they didn't say anything and you made no reference to them, except to say they would now spank me.

I was still acutely aware of my surroundings and so, even though the hand slaps on my bare butt were hard enough to reverberate loudly in the cavernous basement, I endured each and every one of them without making a sound.

The spanking continued for what seemed like an eternity. Throughout it, you whispered in my ear and encouraged me to enjoy the stinging pain and the sensuous touch of your fingers on my clitoris.

"That's a good slave," you said. "Fuck yourself on my fingers."

I had unconsciously started to squirm and seek the touch of your fingers. A number of things; the public location, the large latex cock in my ass, and the endless rain of solid whacks to my ass cheeks intensified the pleasurable stimulation.

"Do you want to cum now, slave?" you asked.

I moaned loudly and almost yelped at your sudden, vice-like grip on my clitoris.

"Yes. Yes!" I whimpered. Your grip tightened on the sensitive bud. My clitoris throbbed painfully the instant you released your grip on it.

I felt you slide to your knees between my spread legs. The heat and moisture of your breath close between my thighs caused me rise up onto tiptoe. I arched back to feed my clitoris into your mouth.

The pleasure was immediate and breathtaking. Your tongue expertly assaulted my clitoris. The way you sucked it stole my breath completely. The anonymous spanker continued until my butt cheeks literally burned from the stinging impressions of his hand. My impaled anus also throbbed around the thick shaft of the penis-plug, as if to remind me I was anally ravished while you pleasured me.

I heard a car enter the basement. Brief panic wrenched me from the delirious state of arousal that enveloped me, but not for long. Your tongue felt so good on my clitoris. It lapped the juices that first seeped but now gushed from me. Ripple after ripple of orgasmic delight washed over me and ultimately flooded all my senses, until I could take it no more.

When you finally released me and removed the blindfold, there was no sign of your assistant.

"Did you enjoy that?" you asked.

"Yes, Master," I mumbled softly. "I feel so weak I can hardly stand."

You smiled deeply into my eyes while you removed my restraints, then told me to kneel.

"See, good slaves get rewards," you said.

I instinctively took hold of your erect cock in my hands. Its tip glistened with signs of early cum, and I applied it to my lips as I would lipstick. The tip of my tongue met your cock on its way into my mouth. My taste buds came alive to the saltiness of your skin and juices. I sucked your cock many times during my training, but it never tasted as good as it did at that moment it erupted and filled my mouth with thick, full-bodied jism.

I continued to swallow after you withdrew your cock. No matter how many times I swallowed, it still felt like I had cum in my mouth.

You then helped me to my feet and said, "That's all for now, Melissa. You're free to return to your apartment.

"Are you not going to escort me?" I asked.

"No, I'm already late for work."

With that, you smiled and left me alone to make the long, arduous journey back to my apartment - the penis-plug still lodged deep in my ass, and the lingering after-taste of cum in my mouth.

[Aussiegirl1]

WOW! Another great job anonymouse, thank you!

I was totally lost in this story, wondering first what her punishment would be and later if she would go outside as asked. I felt her fear and her surprise.

I was not aware of anything I would change, the story flowing well. Even with the addition of the emails and chat section, it was easy to follow the story line. You have some great ideas that you are more then capable of putting into some great stories.

I am happy to move you up to level three and will look forward to reading more of your work.

[anonymouse]

Thank you so much, Aussiegirl

Quoting email and chat, especially chat, conversations is something 'net authors' (such as me) have to confront. I've read cybering logs as stories in the past and, frankly, they're very difficult to get into -- even in cases where I'm one of the authors of the original. In many respects, they depend more on contextual settings than any regular 'dialog' in a story.

My only personal criticism of my own work is, should such quotations be italicized? Italics, like every other type of punctuation, can be overdone hence, I summed it up on balance and thought, to italicize all the quotations of mail and chat in this story would be unbalanced in the text. But I'm open to other opinions here.

anonymouse

PS: 'New verbs' such as cybering are tricky things to deal with.

[Aussiegirl1]

Thank you so much, Aussiegirl

Quoting email and chat, especially chat, conversations is something 'net authors' (such as me) have to confront. I've read cybering logs as stories in the past and, frankly, they're very difficult to get into -- even in cases where I'm one of the authors of the original. In many respects, they depend more on contextual settings than any regular 'dialog' in a story.

My only personal criticism of my own work is, should such quotations be italicized? Italics, like every other type of punctuation, can be overdone hence, I summed it up on balance and thought, to italicize all the quotations of mail and chat in this story would be unbalanced in the text. But I'm open to other opinions here.

anonymouse

PS: 'New verbs' such as cybering are tricky things to deal with.

Good point about the use of italics. I agree with your choice and think it worked well in your piece. If you had used them, it could have taken away from the story, but again I too would love to hear what others think.

It is hard to get into some " chat" stories, but I think you used it well to set up the main part of your story.

It is great that we live in an age where new words are being constantly invented! I think you used the word cybering very well

AG

[anonymouse]

Something I forget to mention in my comments about Assignment 2 -- 'the Scroll Test'.

As a reader (personal reviewer) of say, asstr text stories, the first 'test' I apply is the 'scroll test'. This is to say, I scroll the text and look at the opening words of every paragraph. If I see lots of the same opening words in every paragraph, I move on. I apply the same test to my own work. If I see myself being repetitive, there had better be a darn good reason for being so.

The same test (for me) can and should be applied within paragraphs.

anonymouse

[Rhabbi]

Wow, I say that so much that it is losing its meaning. And it doesn't even begin to cover this story anyway. If you want to respond to the "Who did you turn on today thread," you can put me down for it, because you did. From the beginning I was captured by the eroticism and it held me to the end. Extraordinary job.

[anonymouse]

Thank you, Rhabbi

[moptop]

Hi, anonymouse. We havn't met, but I am certainly enjoying reading you - and we shall both be around in the next level. Apart from very much enjoying the story - really did - I very much appreciated the 'scroll test' hint. I will try that on myself in the future!

[moptop]

Oh, and - italics, etc. I thought you were quite right not to.

In general I believe less is more: provided whatever technique you use (to highlight or make visible a difference) works adequately, there is no need to make the readers life more demanding by adding. It can detract; it can lead the eye to concentrating on the wrong thing. Also, italics in bulk can be hard to read.

I think I would probably just try various different options and see what it looked like! cyberwise, this seemed to work fine, lol.

[anonymouse]

Hi, and thanks, moptop