Master had returned earlier than usual; however, I still managed to be at the door, kneeling in my place waiting for him. The moment I saw his smile I knew I had to tell him immediately about failing to complete his morning task. Master kissed me, walked around me, moved to the kitchen to place his wallet and keys in the appropriate spot only to return to me, a grin still happily planted across his lips.

Although the warmth I felt from his looks, the way his fingers lightly touched my cheek I still felt the twinge of childhood memories, of being that little girl who had snuck into the freezer and ate ice cream when I was not permitted.

"I have disappointed you Master. I was unable to cum three times. I tried. I tried and I tried but I just could not get to three." The words stumbled out so quickly I was surprised Master actually heard each one.

"I know I will probably have a speeding ticket but I did not want to lie and I tried. I really, really did Master." A part of me was hoping, desperately so, that Master would pat my head, kiss my nose and tell me that it was all okay and that no correction was necessary.

"Yes. A speeding ticket will be issued but later, after dinner." His words were soft, spoken without disapproval but more so matter of fact.

A conflicting sensation arose in me because although I thought I did not want a speeding ticket, the instant he said I would receive one I felt a sense of relief. Of course panic set in when Master stated the correction would not occur until after dinner, which would be a minimum of two hours, because quite simply put, my mind is my own worst enemy. Luckily for me Master allowed me to occupy my time with going to the library and then making dinner, which helped with my over active imagination.

Time passed very quickly and suddenly I heard Master moving around, digging through the toy closet and heading down stairs. Down stairs is a scary place for me. Perhaps from all the horror movies I have watched over the years or merely the fact that basements are always cold and I do not like to be cold, whatever it is, the basement is a creepy place for me and Master is very aware of this.

I was instructed to kneel facing the cross, extending my arms so that my palms rested on the horizontal beam. With a gleam of wickedness in his eyes, Master bound my wrists and fingers to the wood, wrapping the latex tape, followed by electrical tape, around and around until I could no longer wriggle my fingers. I was feeling slightly uncomfortable, not physically but emotionally as I realised I could not move away and the idea of no escape was frightening. Much to my surprise, when Master placed the leather mask over my eyes, blinding me from my surroundings, I immediately felt a sense of calm. (I am not certain if Master knew that would take place but I am grateful he did it.) Having my eyes covered allowed me to concentrate on my breathing, on centering myself and when I felt the first lash from Masters flogger, I was accepting of what was happening to my body.

As usual I counted, "One. Thank you master. Two. Thank you Master" however, somewhere near 34 or 35 I believe I started to scream, growl even. I felt heated, internally more than externally and the louder I screamed the more intense the experience became. I am not exactly sure how to explain the release I felt while expelling my lungs but the louder my voice became the more empowered and free I felt. Master stopped at forty, released my hands and pulled me close, kissing my lips, telling me he was proud of me and that I was a good girl.

Unlike previous corrections, I did not feel anger towards Master, rather I felt calm. Together we walked up stairs, resting side by side. I felt Masters fingers against my cheek, his eyes smiling at me, his words tender. I nodded yes as he asked if I was okay, if I was just quiet because I was okay. I felt no hostility, no anger, nothing negative; even my bottom felt no pain. In fact the moment Master stopped flogging me the sting of each leather strip disappeared. The only ache I felt was in my throat and I caused that all on my own.

I knew the execution of Masters discipline aroused him, it often does and as I placed my head on his thigh, I felt the hardness of his cock against my head and I immediately started to salivate. I wanted to please him, to feel his cock choke me and Master must have wanted that as well because within seconds his cock was slipping past my lips, pushing at the very back of my throat. I was eager to please and my greedy lips wrapped around him tightly, plunging down, pushing his entire length to the base of my throat, slipping past the comfort zone, choking me.

During the past three months, Master has gone from allowing me to worship his cock to face fucking me. My mouth is a hole for him; a place to deposit his cum and he ensures I understand that as he manipulates my jaw, his fingers never leaving my face or head, nor permitting me to adjust, to stroke him myself. When Master first used my mouth in this fashion I was dumbfounded. I felt used, like an object, now though I enjoy it, take pleasure in knowing I am his doll to fuck, an instrument for release.

And last night Master was using his doll, not his slave. There was a moment when I was not even "there", where my mind had slipped away and I simply was being jerked back and forth. This incredible state of unknowing quickly disappeared though when the continuous gagging erupted and instead of just coughing I found my mouth full of sour, bitter syrup: vomit.

There is one act that brings forth feelings of disappointment: vomiting. I try very hard to control my gag reflex. I practice almost daily with throat cunt training; however, there are times, unfortunately so, when the training simply is not enough. I felt ridiculous, shameful and as I cleaned up my body, I felt the waves of embarrassment rush through me. Master is very aware of my feelings when something of this matter happens and to help me overcome my shame, Master cleaned the floor and waited with open arms for me to sit beside him. I felt terrible and new he was no longer aroused but I asked him if I could please him. He smiled, wrapped his arm around me and said it was okay, "there is always tomorrow".

We remained close, sitting side by side until Master sent me to bed. As I tucked myself in, I realised that those old feelings of shame were not there, that I was not worrying about being a pleasing slave because, much to my bewilderment, vomiting under his control felt, intoxicating. In that moment I had been entirely under his control, no freedom of my own.

To many this realisation most likely seems odd - odd that it has taken four years of being together to experience it but last night was a turning point and I am grateful for what Master gave me.

The things we learn.

Master has just left for the day and so I will now retrieve envelope number 2 and see what I will be experiencing today.

~His

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