Over a Barrel

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Punished over a barrel for her attitude.
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The sound of a door slamming startled her out of her deep slumber. It took a few minutes for the haze in her head to fade away enough that she could remember what was going on. She sat up and the room started spinning and her head was hurting as the memories of last night slowly came back to her. Her owners had some friends over last night and it was her job to keep their refreshments full but every now and then she would sneak a shot of whiskey in when nobody was looking which was against the rules. Her Master knew this was happening but let her do it anyway; not wanting to chastise her in front of the guests because he knew it would put her in a foul mood.

It wasn't until after the guests left that they confronted her about the drinking. When her Master told her Mistress she knew that was the end of her. Her Master came in, and without a word, grabbed her and held her while her Mistress cut off all of her clothing with a pair of scissors. She knew what happened after this because unfortunately she wasn't the most obedient slave and this was her fate more than she liked it to be. Her Mistress grabbed her hair and yanked so hard that she let out a cry. She had no choice but to follow her Mistress as she led her down into the basement where she knew she would be spending the night.

Her owners, although very strict and harsh at times, cared greatly for her so in the basement there was a cot for her to lie on and, on top of that, a folded burlap bag that she was to wear when she was down there. Her head was spinning from being pulled by her hair and most likely the whiskey as well, and all she wanted to do was lie down. She sat down on the cot as she heard the door to the basement closing behind her Mistress. It was always so cold down here she thought as goose bumps started covering her flesh. She picked up the burlap bag not wanting to put it on because of how much it itched but reluctantly did to help the chill a little. She was so tired from entertaining all night that after she put it on she curled up on the cot and fell right to sleep.

As the memories came back after the door awoken her she knew how much trouble she was in and, since this wasn't her first offense, how much she would be crying out for mercy by the end of the morning. She didn't have long to gather her senses as her Master grabbed her roughly off of the cot and without saying a word restrained her over a barrel that he kept in the basement just for infractions such as these. She knew better than to fight them as her Master pushed her over the barrel and grabbed her legs one at a time to put in the restraints. Her Mistress grabbed her wrists and restrained them on the other side of the barrel. The barrel was actually quite comfortable to lie on but her body was so stretched out that it made the punishment double in severity, or at least it felt like it.

She didn't have to wait long before the searing pain of a cane cut through her flesh. Her head pulled back the most it could in the tight restraints and whatever haze she had trouble shaking off when she first woke up was completely gone. The cane fell repeatedly time and time again each time just as hard as the first until she thought she couldn't take it anymore. She knew she was at her Master's mercy since he was the one wielding the cane and she was going to have to take whatever he wanted her to take. No more, no less. It wasn't until her butt was covered in angry cane welts that he stopped. She knew that they weren't done. The punishment, despite how hard it was, was never this short. Her Master admired the angry welts as he ran his fingers over her butt smiling with delight at the wonderful sight before his eyes.

Sometime during the caning her Mistress had gone upstairs to get some ice to bring down. The slave didn't realize that she had ice until she felt the first cube touch her flaming hot butt. She knew better than to say anything since they didn't take kindly to any attitude or back talk whatsoever and it would just prolong the punishment. She always received the ice treatment in between implements or spankings to cool down her butt and intensify the punishment. Her Mistress didn't even bother drying off her butt as she brought the prison strap high over her head and brought it down on the slave's butt. Her entire body tensed at the searing pain and sting of the strap on wet flesh. There was just something about that prison strap that made the pain radiate through her body. The strap came down time and time again until the slave was making so much noise that her Mistress had to stop so the neighbors wouldn't hear.

The slave thought the punishment was over until she heard her Mistress cutting off part of the burlap bag. This was new for her and she didn't know what would happen next but she didn't have to wait long to find out as her Mistress shoved the burlap bag in her mouth. It didn't take a lot of intelligence to know this was to keep her quiet so the slave bit down on the balled up burlap as the prison strap fell again. Over and over it fell until her tears formed a small puddle on the floor and her sobs grew quiet. They always had to push her to this point to teach her a lesson otherwise they knew they would be repeating this the next time they had her entertain guests.

Her Mistress picked up the ice again and let it melt over the slave's butt. They were harsh with her, but they were never outright cruel. They cared for her greatly and she knew it. Her Master undid the restraints one at a time and she just laid over the barrel until the ice was completely melted. He then grabbed her arm gently, helped her up and removed the burlap ball from her mouth. He hugged her tightly and told her she was forgiven. She stayed in his embrace for what seemed like eternity. She also felt so safe in his arms, so protected, so cared for, so loved. Her Mistress gave them a moment and then joined in the hug as well. They never failed at comforting her at the end even if they did leave her unable to sit. They cut the burlap bag off of her and helped her up the stairs into the master bathroom. Before they went downstairs to tend to her they had drawn a nice hot bubble bath to have her relax in afterwards. She stepped very gingerly into the bathtub and sunk down into the water as they left the bathroom to let her relax and regain her senses.

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TheDokTheDok6 months ago

Why did someone who thinks brutality is not erotic bother to read a story about the use of a prison strap and why did he comment?

StrapmewhenStrapmewhenover 8 years ago
Comment on Over a Barrel

I really loved the story "Over a Barrel". I love receiving the Canadian Prison Strap. It is very important to be comfortable over the horse or as in this case a Barrel as the difference between one's comfort (one could go to sleep in a nice comfortable position) and the pain of the implement being used is sooooo adorable.

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
I liked it

Some people find pure brutality extra erotic

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago

Pure brutality is not erotic

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