It was midnight when my Master came home. He was late, like he was every Friday night. I didn’t like it, but I was never allowed say anything about it. I had just about fallen asleep, when he entered the room. I could tell by the way he stomped into the room that he was in a bad mood.

“Strip, bitch,” he snipped.

I was tired and didn’t really feel like having sex. I pretended not to hear him, and pulled the covers over my head. He tore the covers of and grabbed me by my hair.

“Don’t play games with me, you little slut,” he yelled.

I boldly stared him in the eyes, something I was not allowed to do, and clawed at his arms. The look on his face told me I shouldn’t have done that. He struck me across the face, with the back of his hand.

“Dammit, I want to go to sleep,” I shouted, after slapping him back.

“That’s it, now you’re going to get it,” he threatened.

I wasn’t sure what he meant until he threw me over his shoulder and carried me to “the room”. This room was filled with whips, straps, riding crops, chains, hooks, nipple clamp, and other various torture toys. He positioned me on the bed, and chained my arms to the headboard. He took the nipple clamps and fastened them to my tits. A shot of pain ran through my body.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

Not wanting him even angrier at me I complied. He then chained my ankles to the footboard. Then he took a huge, thick dildo and cruelly shoved it into my tight, semi-moist pussy.

“I’m going to leave you here like this, until you beg me to forgive you.”

Stubbornly I lay there silent, he then took out the whip. He began lashing the insides of my thighs. I could feel the welts forming. He moved up to my stomach, then my tits. He gave each about fifteen lashes. I still said nothing and he left the room.

I was alone for most of the night. I hated every minute of it. I was cold, uncomfortable, the cuffs were too tight, and I definitely couldn’t sleep in this position. I finally decided the smart thing to do was beg.

“Master, I’m sorry,” I shouted.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he replied with a laugh.

“Please Master, I’m begging you to forgive me.”

He came into the room, and unchained me from the bed. I got up to leave the room. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back onto the bed.

“You didn’t think that was it did you,” he asked.

“Of course not,” I lied, even though I wished it was. He tugged on the connector chain of my nipple clamps. He knew I was lying.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered.

I obediently dropped to the floor at his feet. He still pulled on the chain.

“Master I’m sorry,” I begged.

He took off the clamps, my nipples were sore and throbbing. He stood before me and ordered me to pull his boxers down. After fulfilling his wish, he then said, “Suck it off whore.”