Collar Me Ch. 06

Chapter 6: Trouble.

"I hold on to avoid dizzy spells, not to imagine submission, girl."

Oh shit. Me and my big mouth. He was glaring and I knew I'd fucked up. Was there ever a piece of trouble I couldn't talk myself into? Shit. I still thought I was right about Dan, and that he was too much the tough guy to admit it, but it didn't matter. I had overstepped a line, got too playful and threatened his manhood.

Blowing him had been bad enough; what was I in for now? Should I drop to my knees, kiss his feet, and beg forgiveness? Should I just keep my mouth shut? Could I dig this hole any deeper than I already had? I looked at Master Dan's glower, and decided.

"I beg Master Dan's forgiveness." I slipped my hands free of his and lifted them to the cross. I felt for the wrist straps, and instead of grabbing them as he had, I slid my wrists through them, one at a time. Then I spread my legs to align as best I could with the lower arms of the cross. I looked down toward his feet and said "I accept my punishment;" then, I hung my head and waited.

I felt, more than saw, his hands reach up and the leather tightened around my right wrist. A shift of mass and it tightened around my left. I wasn't going anywhere. He knelt down and strapped my ankles snugly to the bars, and then secured straps around my thighs, splaying my legs wide and straining my crotch. Then Dan reached back up and secured straps about my upper arms. Truly, I wasn't going anywhere.

He disappeared momentarily behind the cross and then with a clunk I felt it tilt backward and lift, leaving me hanging in the straps. It was less uncomfortable than I'd have guessed—physically at least. Psychically, there was no comfort at all. I was completely immobile, utterly helpless, and I heard Dan move toward the wall, looking for toys—toys on a wall where they all hurt.

My master had told Dan "no hitting" but that was before I'd screwed up and earned a punishment—I felt that in accepting my punishment, I had given Dan permission to do as he saw fit, and was expecting him to come back with a whip—after all, he seemed to want to whip me and weren't you supposed to whip disobedient slaves?

Instead he held a leather mask as he stepped up to me. The lights went out as the blindfold slid over my eyes. Creamy leather molded itself to my face, leaving me in darkness but enveloped by the warm buttery perfume of the leather. Perfume touched by a salty tang, and I imagined the sweat and tears of previous wearers infusing the leather as they hung from this cross and cried, suffering not the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, but the stings and anguish of well-swung paddles. Now I would add my own aroma to those perfusing the blindfold.

I hovered, struggling to hear what was happening. I'd been doubly stupid—first for pissing Dan off, but then for thinking that anything I said mattered. When I said "I accept my punishment" I thought I was talking to Master Dan. Instead I was just babbling to myself. I'd only said two words all evening that mattered and they were "Collar Me." If Dan wanted to flog me until I was black, blue and bawling like a baby, it wasn't an issue between me and him; it would only be an issue between him and my master—would master be upset that Dan had damaged his property? I felt Dan's bulk looming. He asked:

"Are you happy? Do you feel powerful?" My belly clenched and twitched as it was touched by smooth leather.

"Please Master...." I whispered.

"Please what, slave? Are you begging for punishment?"

"Dan! What are you doing?" It was my master's baritone—I hadn't heard him come back in.

"Geez, I haven't hit her—though she deserves to be whipped!"

"Yeah," Ken said, "She's a cocky bitch."

"Oh fuck off, Ken" my master rumbled. His steps and voice came closer,

"Were you a cocky bitch that deserves to be flogged?"

What was I to say? Shit.

"Wellllll....?" from the rumbling baritone, not sounding patient.

"Yes, Master, I teased your friend Dan."

There was a "hmpff" from Dan, but then the room went quiet. Just breathing—my own rushing in my inner ears, Dan's heavy, slow whoofing, Ken's wheezy panting, and master's barely audible breath that flowed lightly across the curve of my throat. But there was also a rustle and footsteps across the room; the woman was here too. I flushed.

I sensed that master was struggling—pain clearly wasn't his game—but I had admitted that I deserved to be punished. So, bound and blindfolded, I hung waiting.

"Well, master, I may have insulted him—I didn't really mean to." The words seemed to launch themselves from my mouth, though I hadn't planned them. Had the silence overwhelmed me and I had to fill the void—with something really dumb?

"Is that true? You insulted my friend? Then I guess you must be punished. Dan—hand me the crop."

I tensed, locking my jaw so that I wouldn't scream, wondering where the blow would fall. There was a swish, and then the crop stung my left nipple. I yelped. Another swish and this time the sting was in my right nipple. It drew a second perfunctory yelp—he'd barely hit.

"Dan generally deserves whatever teasing he gets so I'm sure that can count as your punishment." Master's baritone sounded amused.

Ken snorted; it sounded like he'd been drinking and it came out his nose. Dan hmpffed again but said nothing. Then I heard the woman's voice.

"Dave, you are a wuss. Leave her to me, I haven't had a turn."