I had been slacking off on following standing orders from my Master, and he had
finally called me on it. When he dropped me off at the apartment, he told me he
would return at midnight, at which point I was to be wearing nothing but my
collar (locked on), manacles, and shackles; when he rang the doorbell and I
found out it was him, to buzz him in, unlock the door, and wait by his chair,
kneeling, head bowed to the floor.

The intervening hours passed very slowly for me as I wondered what he was going
to do to punish me. I didn't know if I'd be whipped or if he had some other
subtler form of punishment to give me but I knew that by the end of his visit I
would surely be very aware of my proper role.

At about 11:45 I undressed, locking the collar in place, then donned the
manacles and shackles. I smoked a cigarette, knowing that there was a good
chance that I wouldn't get another until he was done with me. The doorbell rang
just after I put it out; it was my Master. I buzzed the front door, unlocked
the door to the apartment, and waited for him as he specified. I heard the door
open and shut, and could almost feel him walking up behind me.

There was a silent pause; he was probably looking at me, as he often does when
I am in a position he finds attractive. Then he either sat behind me. He tied
my ankle shackles together and demonstrated to me the shortness of the length
of rope between them, then ran his hand from my neck down to the small of my
back verrrrry slowly. Another pause, then a crack as he brought his hand down
hard upon my ass, once; hard enough to leave a tingling feeling in an area that
was the exact size and shape of his hand.

He got up and sat in the chair. "Crawl to the kitchen, slave, and bring me a
can of soda." I slowly, because of the inability to move my legs far apart,
crawled to the kitchen, pushed myself to my knees, and opened the refrigerator,
getting a can of Coke. Crawling back with only one free hand made it even more
difficult and even slower, but I knew that was part of the point. When I got
back to the chair, I got back up on my knees, opened the soda, and handed it to
him, being careful to keep my eyes lowered. My Master is not normally a
stickler on that sort of protocol, but when I was being punished it was 
usually strictly enforced, and I had no desire to increase my punishment for
something this simple.

"Back to your proper position, slave, " he ordered, and I bowed my head down on
top of his feet. It took him a good  10 minutes to drink to soda, during which
time I was motionless. Sometime during this, he leaned down, pulled my head up
slightly, and attached a leash to my collar, then pushed my head back down. 

He placed the can next to the chair then pulled on the leash, bringing my head
to the level of his waist. "Blow me, slave." I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his
pants and began giving him head. As he became more erect, he put his hand on
the back of my head, forcing me to take him deeper into my mouth. After a
while, he said "Enough." and pushed my head back down to the floor, then stood
up.

I heard him remove his clothing and thought perhaps he would simply take me in
this position and decide that it enforced my role sufficiently. Somehow,
though, I doubted it; usually when I disobey an order for a length of time I
get a more...physical punishment. Given what I had done, this was likely to be
very intense.

Sure enough, I wasn't going to be that lucky. Warming up periods, apparently,
were only for play parties; the first blow of his hand rocked me forward. The
spanks after that continued at that level for several minutes, then he stopped.
My ass was more than tingling, it was hot and sore...but this was punishment.
Oh, it felt good, too, but it was in that in between point, between good pain
and 'real' pain.

The pause was for him to get more things from the bag. He spread my legs
slightly and inserted my vibrator, turning it on. "You are forbidden to have an
orgasm, slave. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Master." I replied, knowing that he was setting me up for more
punishment, but not caring.

The riding crop cracked down on my ass, both on the cheeks and in between. I
began reacting more obviously as the pain increased, but my body became more
and more able to deal with it as time went on. Still, when he stopped, my
entire ass was incredibly sore. 

He pulled back on my leash, snapping my head up, and blindfolded and gagged me,
then pushed my head back against the floor. I heard the snap of a rubber glove
and moaned, knowing what was coming. A lubricated finger, then two, slipped
into my anus, slowly, lubing the inside. They withdrew just as slowly. After a
pause barely long enough for my Master to don a condom and apply lubricant to
it as well, he began fucking me anally. Although he started out fairly gentle,
once it was clear I could accomodate him this time, his thrusts got harder and
deeper, so that he slammed against my sore ass with every one. 

My cries beneath the gag were muffled but to me sounded very loud. This hurt,
and was humiliating, but at the same time was one of the most exciting things
my Master had ever done. As I heard him approaching climax, I could no longer
contain myself; my own pleasure and the knowledge of his combined was too much,
and I too had an orgasm, nearly simultaenous to his.

He leaned across my body, still inside of me, and removed the gag. His arms
around me were warm and comforting, as he said "I forgive you, slave." I knew
that my punishment was over, and that once I had been removed from my bondage
that he was likely to hold, cuddle and pamper me as he often did once I had
learned my lesson.

I was right; about the intensity of the punishment, about feeling and _knowing_
my proper place in my Master's life, _and_ about the cuddling. The pain seemed
inconsequential as I fell asleep in my Master's arms.