The Love Slave

An eBook By Jay Lawrence.

"You know what to do, my lady."

Slowly, with the fatalism of the condemned, she rose to stand before her own Master, then began to undress, keenly aware of his eyes upon her although she would not meet his gaze.  First the fur trimmed jacket, hesitantly unbuttoned by nerve-clumsy fingers, then the long dark skirt, self-consciously stepped out of, until she wore but her precious collar, corset and the silky black stockings her owner insisted upon.  Her breasts were very full, almost aching, and she offered them to him one at a time as if giving nourishment, passively regarding his silver bearded mouth as he took her firm little nipples and tongued them to swollen dilation.  The sensual overture was deceptive, for she knew she was to be disciplined, yet the infraction was not great and her guardian took great pleasure in playing with his slave at such times, prolonging her anticipation to sweetly agonizing proportions.  Eventually he gestured to his lap and she quietly lay face down across his knees, her head and arms resting on one arm of the chair, soft white bottom accentuated by the web-like lacing of the corset, which seemed to present her for spanking.

"If you imagine I would ever do you permanent harm, you are very much mistaken.  I don't need to cut you or brand you to prove I am your Master; and if you have further cause to disbelieve this, I intend to give you a very sore bottom indeed.  In fact, you will be a much sadder and wiser young lady by the time I've finished with you."

Sarah wriggled slightly, feeling her face redden with a curious blend of genuine shame and intense arousal.  Master rubbed the smooth cheeks of her bottom rhythmically as he spoke, as if to underscore the message.

am here to protect you, to take care of you."

He raised his hand and brought it down very suddenly and sharply against the lower portion of her buttocks, causing her to flinch and cry out in surprise.

"I can do this with your co-operation or without it.  If you choose not to co-operate, you will be rewarded with a stinging, smarting, red-hot bottom.  Understand?"

His tone was very level and more than a little wry, but each sentence was punctuated by a forceful smack.

"Yes, Master."

Her response was barely audible, but heartfelt.  Spanking was an especially insidious form of discipline, as a prolonged and intense bottom warming session generally left nothing more than a faint rosy glow, quite unlike the dramatic welts produced by the cane.  Sarah was genuinely eager to please and generally more than willing to obey and serve her Master, whose expectations and desires could be exacting but were not unreasonable.  She had therefore received comparatively little in the way of true punishment, but those few episodes were clearly etched in her memory as times of truly remorseful tears and endless remonstrations.  The errant slave had begged her owner to stop paddling her backside, wriggling and kicking her legs until Master had very sternly informed her that, if there was any more of that type of behavior, he would simply feel obliged to double the length of the punishment session.  After that, she lay as still as she could, sobbing quietly until, at last, her correction was accomplished and Master took her in his arms to dry her swollen eyes and kiss her trembling mouth.  There was always tender and immediate forgiveness, and Sarah felt a strange and deep gratitude towards this man who was strong enough to demand that she conform to his needs and quite prepared to mete out discipline when she failed to do her best.  In her heart of hearts, she thanked him for valuing her in this manner, for seeing what she could be and simply not allowing her to slide into a morass of sloth and mediocrity.  An all-encompassing sense of peace enveloped the slave after a judicious punishment, and she would lie, quite spent, while Master spoke softly and kindly to her, feeling growing love and respect for her strict but nurturing guardian.

Sarah loved to lie across her owner's knees, for even at those rare and painful times of true disgrace, there was simply something almost primevally erotic about placing herself completely at his mercy, baring her bottom like a naughty child and submitting to a thorough spanking.

"Never forget that you are owned.  You belong to me and I will do exactly as I please with you.  You have no control whatsoever."

Each of those statements invariably produced a swiftly and softly spoken affirmation.  Yes, yes, yes...  Why had no man loved her in this way before?  Was she not worthy of ownership?  Why had she wandered aimlessly for so many years, not fully conscious of what she sought, yet desperately needing the containment of a Master's care?  Yes, most beloved Master, I am yours, and I simply thank God that you found me and gave me the role I believe I was born to play.

"You are so very precious to me, my lady."

His voice grew tender and he stroked the moist and furry cleft beneath her reddened buttocks, causing his slave to squirm over his searching fingers, coating them in her sweet nectar.  Blissfully, she pushed her bottom upwards, as if begging for another spanking.

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