Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 08

'What have you done, slave?' Bob demanded.

'Sorry, Master. Your slave has been clumsy,' she said.

Jane was carefully picking up the pieces of a vase. It held sentimental value, inherited from his grandmother, rather than value to anyone else.

'Be careful in future. I was fond of that,' he told her. It was the second time in two days he had to warn her.

'Sorry, Master,' she said, not looking sorry at all.

'I don't think you are sorry, slave. I have a good mind to give you something to remind you not to be clumsy,' he heavily warned. A glance from her gave him a clue as to what was going on.

'When you've cleared up, come to my study,' he crossly spoke.

Jane walked in feeling nervous. Her master was upset, and had become angry. which wasn't like him at all. She walked over to him, to stand beside the desk. Looking down at her feet in respect, she managed a sideways glance. He had a leather belt in his hand! She trembled in anticipation.

'Sorry, Master. Your slave promises not to be careless again, Master, honestly,' she whined.

'You had better not, or I'll use this belt. Bend over the desk. Pull the dress up,' he ordered.

'Please master, please don't hurt your slave,' she groaned.

He sat for a moment studying her peachy bottom. She was anxiously squirming, moving her ass in an exquisite way. Today she wasn't wearing a corset, just a suspender belt, holding sheer stockings. The underwear framed her ass perfectly. The rear was so perfect, he wanted to stroke it, rather than spank it.

'Pull your panties down, slave,' he eventually ordered.

Watching her awkwardly wriggle her hips, until they fell around her ankles, was a treat. The tiny sheer, lace panties, matched the push up bra. They had accumulated quite a few sets of racy underwear over the last couple of weeks. She was still for a moment, only to start wriggling again in anticipation of the punishment. He knew she was dreading the spanking, yet needed the humiliation.

His hand came up high, until with a wide sweep, he slapped a cheek. Surprised at how hard the blow was, she let out a gasp. Another thwack to the other cheek, followed by four more, and he was finished.

'Stand up, slave,' he said.

She stood with head bowed, looking sorry for herself. Sexual arousal was revealed by swollen lips, otherwise he would have felt sorry for her.

'Stand up straight, shoulders back,' he ordered.

Both nipples were rock hard, now very prominent through the dress. Her nipples enlarged considerably when stimulated, like her lips.

'What do you say, slave?' he asked.

'Thank you master, for punishing your naughty slave,' she trotted out the usual response.

Her hips were swaying from side to side, with a sexy swing to them.

'Give me those panties,' he said.

She stepped out of the panties pooled at her feet, picked them up, and handed them to her master.

'Lift up that dress, and stand with legs apart,' he told her.

Her face was a picture of anguish and pain. It was humiliating to be treated so contemptibly, yet the cruel treatment aroused her. She knew her sexual arousal was going to be criticised, and agonised over how that would be. He leaned forward and ran a finger between her engorged lips.

'My slave is as sopping wet as a cheap whore. What are you?' he demanded.

'Your slave is wet as a cheap whore, master, sorry master,' she blustered.

He kept his finger still, pressing lightly against her clit, emerging from its hood. He felt her trembling, then she pressed herself against his finger.

'Stop that, dirty slut, slave,' he warned her.

'Sorry, master. Your slave is just a dirty slut, master,' she said.

Her voice quavered as much as her thighs were trembling. She was only just refraining from piercing herself on his finger.

'Lick your master's fingers clean, sloppy slave,' he ordered.

'Thank you, master,' she responded.

He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for. Either the humiliation, or what she was expecting to receive next. She was buzzing with sexual excitement, expecting him to take her.

'It's obvious my slave wants a fucking,' he pointed out.

She looked at him eagerly, then realised he was angry with her. She lowered her eyes in shame, still looking stoked up and very ready. Knowing how blatantly she was advertising her sexual wantonness was shameful. That self-awareness only added to her arousal, leaving her writhing with frustration before him.

'Sorry for being such a slut, master,' she breathed heavily.

'Later your master will see to you. Go to your room and learn patience, slave,' he ordered.

She almost ran to her room, and grabbed the vibrator. Spread wide on the bed she began to play with herself. It wasn't enough, but would have to do until later. She vigorously worked her sex to an orgasm. After a brief rest, she began again, working toward a more gentle orgasm. The ease with which she became aroused, and the deep demand for satisfaction was impossible to control. She wondered how long this state of uncontrollable need would have to be suffered. Would she ever return to normal?