Drake was waiting for me when I arrived at the apartment on 8th Avenue on Saturday night. I'd made an excuse to stay at home alone when Dawn called me wanting to go see a film. I claimed to be sick, and luckily, she called Jill instead and I was off the hook.

I ran up the stairs, excitement building in me that tonight was the night – our first fetish party together and I wondered what he had planned. He said he'd been out to one of the leather shops in Manhattan to look for appropriate fetish wear for me and I'd gone on Friday to get waxed, so I was smooth, the way he liked. No wacky design left in the pubic hair like the attendant suggested. No heart, no landing strip. Just pure bare skin. Luckily, my skin and hair seemed the type not to react badly to the waxing and I loved how smooth I felt to the touch.

Drake stood in the doorway, smiling. He wore a really nice pair of low-slung black leather pants and nothing else, his chest and feet bare.

"There you are," he said, pulling me into his arms once I had my coat off. He rubbed his face in my hair and breathed in deeply. "You smell so good."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, my hands sliding up his strong back, over his smooth skin, and then down to cup his ass through the leather pants.

"I think I really really like the pants. What are you wearing underneath?"

"Commando," he said, grinning against my neck, his cheek raising. "I have to be ready to fuck you at the drop of a hat."

"Oh, God…" I said, gasping when his hands slipped under the hem of my dress to feel my naked pussy.

"Oh, God is right," he said, murmuring against my neck. "I don’t know if I can wait until later to fuck you but I want to at the club."

I pulled away and looked in his face, in his eyes, which were already dark with lust.  "But not in front of anyone, right?"

"Katherine," he said, his voice a bit hard. "We're in scene."

 I inhaled deeply and nodded. "Forgive me, Master."

"Forgiven," he said. "As if I could ever not forgive you." Then, he frowned a bit. "As for what happens tonight, do you trust me? Do you trust me to know what you need and what you can handle?"

I looked into his blue eyes. "Yes. Completely." He frowned and waited, and I realized what I'd done. "Yes, Master."

"Good girl. I decide what happens tonight, not you. Your one out is to use the safe word."

"I never want to use it, Master," I said, frowning, my voice wavering from nerves.

 "Neither do I," he replied. "Now, I see I'm going to have to wipe that frown off your face." Then he turned me around in his arms, tickling me from behind. I giggled and tried to wrestle out of his arms, but he was too strong. Finally, when I was in near hysterics from his fingers, he let me go.

"Off to the bathroom," he said and smacked me on the ass. "I have something for you."

I mock-screamed at his smack, which didn’t hurt at all, and ran to the bathroom as he chased me, his hands reaching out.

I stopped inside the bathroom and leaned against the vanity, wondering what he had for me. He entered with a box in his arms. It was from the leather shop and I knew what it was – a leather corset dress as he said. He'd taken measurements of me the last time we were together and said he'd pick something out for me to wear.

"Take off your clothes."

I complied immediately, eager to try on whatever he had in the box. He was busy unwrapping it and when I was completely naked, I stood waiting, excitement building in me.

He glanced up from the contents of the box and smiled. "That's what I like to see." He came to me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him. He kissed my neck, bit my shoulder just a bit and then stepped back.

"I got you a very nice black number," he said. "But first, there's this." Then he reached into the box and pulled out a thick black leather collar. It was lined with felt on the inside and had a silver buckle and a padlock.

"My collar," I said, reaching up to feel my neck. I smiled and held my hair up so he could put it on.

"Wait," he said, holding up a hand. "There's more to it than just putting it on. This is symbolic, Katherine, of our relationship. It signifies that you're mine, completely and totally, when you wear it. Do you understand that? Completely and totally mine."

He held my gaze, his eyes intense.

"Yes, Master," I said, my throat a bit choked. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said and kissed me. "It means no hesitation from now on when you wear it. No questioning my decisions. No avoiding what I order you to do. You obey immediately and completely without thinking or reservation. You only think of how to please me. If you don't submit fully and with pleasure to what I demand, you have to expect that I'll punish you. Up until now, we've been just playing a bit with D/s. This is serious now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," I said a bit too quickly, eager to have him put it on.

He took my chin in his hands, and caught my eye. "Katherine, I want you to focus. Tell me what this means. When I put this collar around your neck, what does it mean?"

I inhaled, blinking. He was really serious about this part. I had to rein myself in and think clearly.

"It means I am yours totally. I obey you completely without hesitation."

He looked long in my eyes.

"Master," I said, grimacing.

"Good girl. But it's more than just a symbol of possession. It means I've chosen you and you've chosen me. I'm offering this to you – being your Dom. You've accepted with all that means. It means we're exclusive. People take collaring very seriously in the lifestyle. Do you understand how serious this is? It's not given lightly. It's not just for show."

I swallowed and looked in his eyes. He was very serious, his face almost grim.

"Yes, Master."

He nodded but kept looking at me as if searching my face for a sign that I did understand.

"Now turn around and hold up your hair."

I did and he stepped closer behind me, kissing my shoulder first, then he wrapped the collar around my neck, watching in the mirror as he fastened the closure and secured the tiny padlock. Then he held up the key. The black leather was shiny, thick.

"Slave," he said, his voice serious. "This key is mine, just as you are mine when you wear my collar. When I put this on and close the lock, wherever we are, you must obey me immediately, and fully. No hesitation, no complaints. If you do hesitate or complain or fail to comply, I must punish you. Do you understand?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, Master."

I examined myself in the mirror. The collar was thick, but not uncomfortable, the soft grey felt buffering the feel of the hard leather. 

"You look delicious, slave. I want to eat you. In fact, I think I will eat you before we go. But first, I'm going to dress you."

Then he slipped the black leather corset dress out of the box and I stepped into it. The skirt was far too short, barely covering the tops of my nylons, and the bodice far too big, but I realized that he could tighten the corset with ties in the back.

He pulled the ties and soon, the top fit more tightly, the boned bodice pushing up my breasts, squeezing them together so that I was a bit uncomfortable.

"How's that feel?" he said, his voice a bit husky. He ran his hands over the tops of my breasts which spilled out over the leather cups.

"It's a bit tight," I said, adjusting my breasts against the leather.

"Can you breathe?"

I took in a breath. "Yes."

"Good. That's perfect. You look…" he said, eyeing me up and down. "Delicious." Then he reached into the box and pulled out a black lace garter belt and black fishnet stockings. "Put these on. Then I'm going to eat you."

I complied, my body warming to the thought he was going to make me come. I pulled the garter belt on and then sat on the edge of the tub and pulled on the stockings, one after the other. He knelt down and fastened each garter to the stockings. Then, before I could move, he forced my legs apart and I had to grip the back of the tub for support as he lifted one of my thighs over his shoulder.

I wedged the other foot against the wall, and when he kissed me, I almost jumped.

"Oh, God, Master, I don't know if this is a wise position…"

"Don't argue with me, slave. Tell me if you feel like you could lose your grip."

"Yes, Master," I said, closing my eyes as he began licking me all over, his fingers spreading me open.

"I'm going to be very fast, Master," I said, barely able to speak. "I've been aroused all day."

He glanced up at me. "Good. Just remember to ask permission to come."

I nodded, my heart rate increasing as he slipped a finger inside of me.

"Nice and wet," he said, then he started licking me again, slowly, agonizingly slowly, before covering me with his mouth and sucking me inside. It didn't take long after he slipped several fingers inside of me before I was ready to come, and I had to suck in air to be able to pull myself out of the moment.

"Master, I'm ready…"

"You're what?"

"I'm going to…"

He stopped his motions, leaving my body and flesh aching with need. "I'm not sure if you deserve it. I think I want to hear you beg."

"Please, Master. May I come now?"

"I'll think about it."

Then he began licking me again, his fingers fucking me slowly. My impending orgasm began again and I gasped.

"Master, I…"

He once again pulled away and my orgasm stopped. I groaned, my thighs quaking, my flesh aching, needing more stimulation.

"Please, Master," I said, my arms shaking just a bit.

He licked me again, then sucked my clit between his lips. I clenched around his fingers, my body so ready, just needing a bit more stimulation. When he moved his fingers in me, stroking me, that was it and I gasped.

But he stopped again, glancing up at me. "I didn’t hear you ask nicely enough."

I breathed in deeply as the sensations subsided.

"Please, Master, let me come," I said, my voice shaky.

"I don't think so. I think I'll leave you in need. Aroused. You'll be all the more aroused by what happens at the party."

I groaned, wanting to protest, but I remembered what he had just said to me about submission and so I swallowed my need, my flesh swollen and achy. He withdrew his fingers from me and stood, leaning over me, holding me in his arms and kissing me so that I tasted myself on his tongue.

We stood up, but my legs were shaky and he had to practically hold me up. He stroked his fingers through my hair.

"You'll be so ready later," he said, taking my hand and stroking it across his erection. "And so will I. Perhaps some of your inhibitions will be overcome."

He was hard as rock, his erection trapped behind the leather pants. I sighed, content to wait and see what he had planned. Then I watched as he slipped on a crisp white linen shirt, leaving it untucked, and then his socks and boots. Finally, he pulled on a black tuxedo jacket over top.

He looked amazing.

 

The drive to the mansion where the fetish party was being held took almost half an hour. On the car stereo, Sunshine of Your Love, by Cream played in the background while Drake described what would happen when we arrived at the home of a wealthy investment banker who hosted the once-monthly exclusive and very private dungeon party and fetish night.

"Will we wear masks?" I asked, a bit nervous. "Master?" I added, catching myself.

"No need for this party," he said. "These people will be more afraid of you knowing them than you should be of them knowing you. These are some of the wealthiest and most powerful players. I'm already a member of the host's inner circle, but you'll have to sign a disclaimer, agreeing to keep private anything you see at the party, not revealing any names to anyone, and if you see anyone on the street, you'll ignore them unless you're in a social situation and it demands that you acknowledge them. This is to protect the people who attend, many of whom are very powerful people and could be harmed if word got out about their involvement in BDSM."

"What if someone knows me?" I said, still nervous.

He reached out and touched my lips with his finger.

"Master," I said quickly. "Who is the owner? Would I know his name?"

He shook his head. "No. Just a very powerful banker with lots of money he made himself. He doesn’t run in your father's old money circles. You might see his name on the Forbes 500 list, but not in the news. These people are very private."

"How did you meet him, Master?"

"Someone who knew him and knew me introduced us and I got an invite. After he watched me for a while, I was offered membership. Lara is a member as well. She may even be there tonight."

"Master, Lara will be mad that we're together."

He nodded. "I've smoothed things over with Lara."

"Are these all the kinky types from the one percent?"

He laughed at that but then he reached over and touched my lips with a finger. "Remember your manners, Katherine. You're being a bit lax because of excitement but I can't be lenient tonight as I usually am. If you disobey me in front of my very powerful and wealthy friends, I'll have to punish you."

"I'm sorry, Master. I'll do better."

"They're not all from the one percent. Some are there simply because they're good at what they do, kink-wise. Like Lara. She has several very powerful submissives, which is why she's invited. Men who run this country, but who like to be dominated in the bedroom."

We drove through a heavily wooded area in Yonkers to a mansion set high on a hill, surrounded by a security fence with remote control cameras spaced along the perimeter. A guard at the gate accepted Drake's ID and checked his name on a list and then waved us through.

My heart rate increased as we drove to the front entrance. A valet opened my door and helped me out. Then Drake came to my side and took my arm. He handed the valet his keys and we walked in the front door, into a luxurious foyer done all in rich marble and mirrors, a huge crystal chandelier in the center of the room suspended from a vaulted ceiling. Drake pulled an invitation out of a pocket in his overcoat and handed it to a shaved-headed security guard dressed in a business suit, a wireless earphone in his ear. The guard examined it and then checked me out, eyeing me up and down.

"She's new, Sir?"

Drake nodded.

"Sir, she'll have to sign," the guard said. He pointed inside the entry to a table set up with an older brunette dressed in a black corset and mini skirt, thigh-high stiletto boots. She wore no collar. We went to the table and the woman smiled at us.

"Master D," she said, making eye contact with him. I took it from how she greeted him as an equal that she was a Domme.

"Mistress Innes," he replied. "Good to see you again."

"You know the procedures. Your submissive will have to sign." She handed me a sheet of paper and a pen. "You can read it over there and sign. I'll get one of the Attendants to witness."

Drake led me to an ornate side table with a chair that had a tapestry seat. I sat and read over the document, which was as Drake had described it. "Master," I whispered. "Is this legally binding?"

He nodded. "This is. It's a non-disclosure agreement. The Attendant is a notary public and can legally witness. You break the agreement's terms, you can be sued."

I signed and dated the document.

The Attendant was collared and dressed in leathers, his torso bare except for straps that crossed his chest. He wore a black leather hat and huge leather boots. Tattoos marked his chest and arms.

After he introduced himself, he turned to me. "You understand that you are now legally obliged to keep secret what you see here and the names and identities of those who you meet?"

I nodded. The Attendant signed in the appropriate spot and pointed to a room off the left. "You can leave your coats and overshoes in the coat check. Fetish wear is required. If you have none, you will be able to choose from what is in stock or else you'll have to leave."

Drake nodded and we went to the coat check. Drake removed my coat and handed it to a scantily dressed coat check girl who also wore a collar, indicating her status as a submissive.

"Thank you, Sir," she said. She took my coat and hung it up. Drake removed his overcoat and suit jacket and handed it to her as well. He pointed to my feet.

"Take those off," he said. I hesitated for a brief moment but then removed my boots.

"Master, what do I wear on my feet? I forgot shoes."

"Nothing. Submissives wear bare or stocking feet."

I raised my eyebrows at that. He smiled. "It's psychological."

I nodded. The coat check submissive gave Drake four tiny tokens. "Sir, you're aware of the two drink per person maximum," she said. "Drinks are being served at the bar. The dungeon is downstairs, but there are stations set up around the main floor for demonstrations. There's dancing in the ballroom. Have an enjoyable evening, Sir."

She smiled at us and pointed to huge ornate double doors.

"Thank you," Drake said and took my hand, leading me through the doors and into another world.

We stood just inside and took in the scene. Perhaps fifty people stood around in small clusters, men and women dressed in leather and latex, some with collars on, various body parts exposed depending on their status as Dominant or submissive. Classical music played in the background from a small trio of a pianist, a violinist and a bass player. All wore fetish wear.

"These people are the movers and shakers," Drake said as he stood behind me, one arm around me, resting on my hip.

"I hope I don't see anyone I know through my father," I said.

Drake squeezed me from behind. "Katherine…"

I closed my eyes. "Oh, sorry. Master. I'm just so nervous."

"I know," he said. "Let's get you a drink. I need you relaxed but still aware of the rules."

We went to the bar and Drake ordered us two shots of vodka. We held them up and toasted each other as we always did and shot them back. Then Drake kissed me after I'd barely swallowed the vodka as if he wanted to taste it on my tongue.

"This is going to be a great night," he said.

 

We wandered around the main floor, and surprisingly, I was only introduced to a couple of men with their submissives. The greetings were short and although friendly, none of the men tried to engage Drake in any substantive conversation. It seemed as if everyone was here for the show. At various places on the main floor we saw what looked like home-made gymnastic equipment – a re-designed miniature pommel horse, a narrow balance-beam like structure and a wooden X on the wall with manacles at the end of each of the arms. There were tables with whips and floggers and everywhere, there were spray bottles and towels. It was like a gym or exercise room mixed with bondage gear, set against an eighteenth century salon with ornate furniture and a huge marble hearth.

I shivered. This was the BDSM that I had a difficult time accepting, but these people were submitting to this and doing this because they wanted it. For whatever reason, pain and humiliation and submission pleased them. These people gave each other what they needed and could get nowhere else.

"Why do these people like this? All of this – domination, submission, pain and humiliation, Master?"

"These people, Katherine?" he said, his eyebrow cocked. "You happen to be one of these people now. Maybe you're not into pain or humiliation, but you're into submission. It's not illegal so don't judge, Katherine. Understand."

I thought about Drake, and how he needed control, sexual control, over his lovers. How he enjoyed having me tied up and completely helpless. Was it because he was afraid a woman wouldn't allow him to do what he wanted unless she was completely tied up? Or was it the trust, as he said?

It was hard to know. I tried to connect the dots in his life – his failed marriage, the restraining order, the bondage, the sexual control. Was it as simple as him feeling this was the only way to keep a woman? Tie her up and make her come over and over again?

As if he could sense my unease, Drake led me to a couch by a huge bay window and sat me down, while he remained standing in front of me.

"What's going on in that mind of yours, Ms. Bennet?"

"Master, I was just wondering why people are attracted to BDSM. Why you are. Why I am."

He sighed heavily. "In the end, does it matter? I've tried to understand why I am. Understanding why doesn't change things. I still want it."

"So you understand why, Master?"

He looked away, inhaling deeply. "Perhaps."

I didn't push for any answers. It wasn't my place to ask. He'd tell me if he wanted me to know but I doubted he did. I had a suspicion. All his life, he'd been abandoned by women.

His mother left him when he was ten and then he had a succession of nanny and housekeepers. He would get close to them only to have them leave again. Then, he married and his wife left him. That had to be the reason. Was it that simple?

Was Drake that easy to understand? He tied up women and controlled their sexual response as a way of feeling control for once?

A surge of affection for him went through me as he stood in front of me, so attractive in his leather pants and white shirt, his hair a bit mussed as always, his blue eyes intense.

I wanted to submit to him fully, to give him whatever it was he needed to feel. I felt so bad at what I’d said to him in the Bahamas when I tried to leave him, abandoning him as well like all the other women in his life.

But this thing between us was so dangerous. If Dawn found out…

I shoved that thought to the back of my mind. I smiled at Drake and was rewarded with a beautiful smile back.

"I'm just glad to be here with you tonight, Master," I said, emotions filling me for this beautiful man with a need to tie me up and dominate me. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

He reached down and took my hand, pulling me up and into his arms. "You make me very happy, slave."

He kissed me and it was a purely tender kiss, his lips soft on mine, his fingers threading through my hair, one hand on the small of my back, pulling me against him.

Then, he pulled away and brushed hair off my cheek. "But we're being observed. We have to do something public to merit participation in this evening. It also puts us at as much risk as others. It’s the only way we'd be trusted to keep identities secret. I'd like to demonstrate an over the lap spanking of you in public, and then, I'd like to fuck you in private."

I blinked, pleased that finally, he'd spank me, but in public?

"I don't know if I like that…" I said, shaking my head, adrenaline surging through me. "You said you'd just tie me up, demonstrate bondage…"

At that, his eyes narrowed. "Katherine, are you refusing me?"

"It's just that it wasn't what I thought of when you promised me you’d spank me…" I glanced around at the people in the room. I didn’t want them watching me get a spanking. I wanted a spanking that would make me aroused and want to fuck Drake. Not one with people watching and Drake using it as a teaching moment.

To my surprise, Drake grasped my hand, then pulled me towards an empty spanking horse.  He stood me in front of it, standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

"I'm giving you a choice, slave, which I wouldn’t usually give a submissive. You can have a barehanded over-the-lap spanking in front of everyone over there," he said, pointing to a black leather cushioned divan in the corner, a couple of feet from the wall. "Or you can have a spanking using this spanking horse. Choose."

I looked at the horse. It looked like a repurposed pommel horse except it had places for manacles.  The choice was clear, but I didn’t like that I had no choice to opt out of the spanking – without completely walking out of the evening. I was going to be spanked, one way or the other.

"Over the knee, please, Master."

"Stay here." Then he went to an Attendant, who stood on the sidelines, his arms crossed. They spoke for a moment and the Attendant nodded, pointing to the equipment. Drake returned and stood in front of me, his hands resting on my shoulders. He caught my eye, staring into mine, a frown on his face.

"This slave has displeased me," he said, his voice rising. "I'm considering what punishment I have to administer."

Immediately, several couples turned to us, standing a few feet away as if at some kind of unspoken buffer zone. 

Drake turned me around to face the people who stood and stared. He had his hands on my shoulders.

"She's new and isn't yet quite as careful in her obedience as she should be. I have to keep reminding her not to hesitate or question my commands. Frequently, I have to remind her to use proper forms of address. I'm going to administer punishment for her failure to obey immediately and without question. Since she's new, and since we've never done this before, I have to go slow. I thought this would be a good time to demonstrate how to spank a novice submissive the first time, over-the-lap."

My face heated under their assessment. There were a few appreciative nods from the onlookers. Drake turned me around, his voice firm and loud enough for others to hear.

"The first thing to do with a novice submissive like this one is to acquaint her with the purpose of the act, telling her what she will experience. This will ensure she doesn't panic at any unfamiliar sensations and doesn’t view it in the wrong way. You want your submissive to obey and to accept her punishment without protest, so going through each step first will help prevent that. Later, when she's more used to punishment, you can just carry it out without detailed explanation, quickly, to make a maximum affect on her state of mind, which isn't properly submissive. But the first time, a wise Master always explains what is going to happen. This isn't about pain. This is about obedience and reinforcing submission, demonstrating to her how she has given up her power entirely and is not permitted to protest or hesitate to obey an order, unless it is to use the safe word."

He turned back to those watching. "A bare hand is good for over the lap spanking but you can also use an implement, such as a paddle or tawse. Whatever works well given that you'll have only one hand available. The spanking horse is best if you want to use floggers or a tawse or riding crop, depending on your preferences. For this submissive, I'm going to use my bare hand, so over the lap is best."

He turned to me and pointed to the black leather divan. "When I sit, you are to lay over my lap." He tilted my head up so that I had to look in his eyes. "Are you clear on what will happen, slave?"

I nodded, my throat choked up.

Drake turned to those watching, his eyebrows raised. I heard a titter go through them and realized I hadn’t used Master when responding.

"You can see I've been a bit too indulgent with this slave. She needs to learn her lesson on how to properly address her Master, and how to submit to an order without question."

He turned back to me, frowning. "I said, are you clear on what will happen, slave?"

"Yes, Master. My apologies for not using proper form of address, Master."

He nodded. "Good girl."

Then he sat facing the group, and pulled me down over his knee. My hair spilled over my face, and I was glad no one would see me. I realized that my skirt would ride up a bit, exposing my garters and nylons.

"Master, my skirt…" I tried to reach back, but Drake held me firm, one hand on the small of my back. Of course, he was planning on exposing my ass. He was going to spank me in front of everyone.

"Did I ask for your opinion on what is happening, slave?"

I swallowed and just forced myself to do whatever he said, with no comments.

"No, Master. I'm sorry." I made my body go limp. As if he felt my submission, he removed his hand from my back.

"Good girl," he said softly, then he took my hands in one of his, and with the other, he held me down, his hand on the small of my back. He turned to those gathered around us. "This submissive is not into pain, although she doesn’t yet know her true limits. She has been pestering me to spank her so she will know what to expect. I have to ensure she understands that this spanking is done to punish her, not to reward her curiosity or give her pleasure." Then he bent down to me. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master."

My heart was pounding. I wanted this, just so I'd know, but at the same time, doing it in front of others had me anxious. I wasn't sure if this would ruin it for me or make this better. I had to just let Drake take over and decide. I had to trust him.

Surprisingly, my arousal from earlier in the night before we left 8th Avenue re-emerged and I felt an ache building in my flesh. Would the pain from the spanking squelch it? Or would I want him to fuck me right away?

Then Drake spoke to the crowd. "The first time, let the submissive become familiar with the position. Don't rush things or you'll cause unnecessary panic. The Dominant's purpose is not to create fear and anger in the sub, but to reinforce the direction of power in the relationship, to teach her what is expected of her, and to help her become a better submissive. By losing all control in this way, the sub is reminded who has the power. Generally, any man is stronger than most women, especially in upper body strength. It should be fairly easy to restrain her, and keep the struggling to a minimum. But a Master enjoys a bit of struggle. The pain from the spanking should be equal to the amount of pain necessary to make the point, but no more. This isn't about sensation play. This is punishment. Keep reinforcing that."

Then, Drake pulled up my skirt and I knew that my buttocks – and more – were completely exposed to all those who cared to watch. I gasped, my face heating.

"Master…" I whispered, unable to stop myself.

"Shh," he said, and rubbed one of my cheeks with his hand.

After a moment, he spoke to the others. "This is virgin ass in every way. Never spanked properly. Never claimed. I aim to do both, but one thing at a time."

A murmur went through those who watched, and someone said, "Lucky you."

I heard Drake chuckle. He was enjoying this. He said he liked to teach…

"As I said, this particular sub is new to the lifestyle and has never been punished before, nor has she experienced a sensual spanking, anal play or penetration. She has expressed her eagerness to be spanked several times and each time I have refused. I want her to understand that I choose when an act will be performed, whether sexual or punishment. She imagined I was just going to demonstrate some minor point of bondage tonight, but earlier, she questioned one of my commands and so I decided to use this opportunity to demonstrate how to properly punish a new sub who is not into pain."

He kept running his hands over my ass, cupping each one, slipping his fingers between my cheeks, then he slid one finger inside of me and I tensed, my face hot with embarrassment. I couldn't believe I was letting him do this to me in front of people but it seemed to please him. I was also shocked that despite everything, or perhaps because of it, I was aroused. I never thought I was into exhibitionism. Was I?

"This slave is very responsive sexually. She's aroused by this, even though it conflicts with her self-image as a proper Catholic girl. I've enjoyed breaking down her barriers. This is just one more that I will cross."

He kept rubbing one ass cheek softly. He bent over and spoke softly to me.

"Now, slave, I'm going to spank you. I don't want you to protest or make a sound. Just take the punishment. You know the safe word. Remember what happens if you use it."

"Yes, Master," I managed to whisper.

Drake spoke to the others. "The first time you spank a sub, do so just to let them know how it feels and to reinforce submission. The point will be made even if you stop long before you would in a normal session of punishment."

With that, he struck my ass cheek, his palm hitting low on my buttock, a loud smack resulting. It stung a bit, but was more of a shock than painful.

I could take this.

I relaxed a bit, letting my body go slack. Drake didn’t say anything at that point, but he must have felt my compliance. He smacked me harder this time and I tensed a bit. He rubbed my buttocks softly as if to soothe them, slipping his fingers between my cheeks each time.

"She thinks she can handle this level of pain and is relaxing. You have to up the pain in order to find that amount that is just beyond comfort level, both physically and psychologically. This is not a sensual spanking. It's punishment and should hurt enough. Just enough, but not more. This is to make a point, to reinforce her submission. She should just give in and take it, and if you're lucky, she'll go into what is termed 'subspace'. You must watch a sub carefully to see if and at what point this happens. At that point, you have to rein yourself in a bit, because she won't feel the pain and you could hurt her beyond her tolerance, or even do permanent damage. A Master must be exceptionally attentive to his slave during such an encounter."

I tensed at that, unable to stop myself. Hurting me just beyond what I can tolerate? I wasn't sure about that.

"My slave has just tensed in response to what I've said. Such is the danger of demonstrating a technique. The slave can undergo anticipatory arousal or anxiety. At that point, it's good to reassure her."

He bent down to me, his mouth next to my ear. "Do you trust me, Katherine?" he whispered.

I said nothing for a moment, blinking, trying to calm myself. He stroked my hair, then down my back. "Katherine, I won't do more than you can take. Do you trust me?"

Finally, I inhaled. "Yes, Master."

"Good girl," he said and began stroking my buttocks again, his fingers lingering between my cheeks, slipping down to my pussy.

"This slave is nervous, but also excited sexually. Some arousal, even when being punished, is inevitable simply because she is submitting and that is arousing to a submissive."

Then he smacked my buttock again, harder than ever, and it stung quite a bit. Soon, several more blows fell on my ass, alternating between buttocks, several in a row, before he stroked each buttock softly.

"You can see her skin is very fair and fine. She's already getting quite a delicious blush to her nice little ass from the spanking. I'll have to be mindful of that. I don't want to draw blood, but a bit of warmth and tenderness will remind her of her punishment when she sits for the rest of the evening."

Then, he rained down a volley of smacks, each a bit harder and more painful than the last, and I began to wonder if he'd stop and when. My ass was starting to hurt. It felt hot, and my heart was pounding but I was determined not to cry out or respond, biting my lip, pulling at a small bit of loose skin to distract myself.

After several more smacks, and me biting down hard to prevent crying out, I did let out a gasp, despite my best efforts, tears blurring my eyes.

Drake stopped immediately, and rubbed my ass tenderly. He leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"Have you learned your lesson, slave?"

"Yes," I said meekly, a sob in my voice. At that moment, I think I hated him just a bit, but at the same time, something was building in me, a sense of elation that I submitted, that I didn’t fight and I didn't use the safe word, despite it hurting me beyond what I thought I would tolerate.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Master," I gasped, crying now in earnest.

"Good," he said and bent down to kiss my buttocks, one after the other, resting his cheek against one. "Perhaps you'll be a bit more careful in your behavior when I give an order."

Then he sat me up and turned me to face him. I tried to wipe away my tears, which I knew would make my mascara streak.

"Oh, Kate," he said, his voice aghast. "Your lip…"