Seven Days of Pain and Bliss


It all started so simply, going door to door, selling magazine subscriptions to augment my meagre university endowment. I had been on the road all day, with little success, when I arrived at a house, set well back, on at least two acres of well-manicured lawns, even a small lake and waterfall. Dressed in a scant top and shorts, hair in disarray from a hot humid summer day, I hesitated before approaching, expecting immediate rejection. Upon pulling an old fashioned chain and hearing a bell ring within, I was surprised when the door was opened by a man in his late forties, very fit, glowing in health and exuding confidence. He took one look at me and said, “I was expecting you, please come in.”

Hesitantly, I entered the great cavernous hall, its very size intimidating; the large cold flagstones underfoot reverberating to our every step. A musty smell of soot and sulphur, ash or fire long dead, assailed my nostrils, but I shook it off as being fanciful.

He led me to the kitchen, sparkling in its stainless steel modernity, warm and more intimate, where he sat me down and then made his proposition; at the time it seemed so coldly calculating.

“My name is Fawnus, Jon de Fawnus and you are Felicity. Well named, so apt for such a fresh, faithful and truthful person, right?” Was he mocking me, I wondered silently?

Knowing a name can be a wondrous and terrible thing, sometimes magical; but uttering a true name can be frightening, since it gives power over a person to those who speak it aloud. I shuddered, wondering how he could possibly know my name!

He stood tall, legs spread wide, reducing his apparent stature; chiseled features, stark upon his face. A brief shift of light created an image of ears pointed and legs naked, wide-spread, hirsute and curving; a sudden impression of something different sprouted unbidden to my mind. This vision welled up, vivid, as my fear grew, suggesting something less than human; then quickly dissipated. I promptly suppressed it as ridiculous.

He began slowly: “I have a proposition to make. Hear me out before you decide. I want to explore with you, feelings and emotions you have locked inside, buried deep. I want to release those emotions and set you free. Deep down you are wondrous, if we can raise your true beauty to the surface, then you will shine, skin aglow, eyes alight, face radiant, your innate sexuality revealed. Even your odour will change, exuding a new fragrance, both exciting and enticing.”

This surprised me, since I think of myself as rather drab; plain of face, neither interesting nor particularly pretty, hair not blond or dark, but somewhere in between, pert breasts descending to a narrow waist, emphasing my best feature, an ass well rounded and long coltish legs.

However, he saw something else there, a potential for unmasked beauty, possibilities deeply hidden but indicative nonetheless.

Then, he made his final proposal: if I would comply with everything he proposed for the next seven days, he would buy subscriptions to everything I was offering and pay my university fees for the next year.

I was excited, not only by my potential sales, but by the suggestive nature of his offer.

I still hesitated as I pondered his proposal. Wondering at the path he had laid out before me, somewhat moved, although still fearful, I wanted to go forward.

A frisson of excitement went through me as a whole different world opened up before me.

Finally, I nodded in dumb acquiescence, my mouth dry, tongue cloven, unable to speak, a nod and a hesitant “yes” was all I managed, barely audible.

As I left, I again had that strange feeling of moist and cloying heat welling up; a faint hint of soot and ash, long dead, came to mind, with a shudder, I shook it off as absurd.

Once again I debated my return, but knew I must if I was ever to throw off the coils of inhibition and reticence which held me fast.

So began my seven days of pain and bliss.

Day 1:

I arrived early, as expected, clad in my usual attire, shorts and top. The door was open, but the flagstoned vestibule was uninviting, almost intimidating, as it once again echoed to my every step.

With a shudder I passed through to the relative warmth of the kitchen, where I was awaited.

Surprising he did not ask me to undress but rather admired me as I was, taking in hair, neck, back, buttocks and legs, as if assessing my potential. He stood there quietly, taking it all in, assessing and measuring, as if he had all the time in the world. All he said was, “I think you will do. My assistant, Anna, will help you with dress and comportment, but first a few strikes of the strap and cane, just as a sample. Three over your shorts and three on the bare. Bend over and prepare yourself. My assistant will administer the strokes.”

A blond, statuesque girl had entered from the dining room, strap and cane in hand, already prepared for my initiation. She was somewhat formidable, standing tall and proud in her tuzla escort dominance.

Without hesitation, she admonished me: “Bend over and prepare to receive your first discipline.” After the initial six on my shorts, which I barely felt, she ordered me to bare myself.

“You do understand that this is not only to initiate you but also for your master’s pleasure! How you handle yourself will go well for you in the future.”

I wanted to do this right, since I was on probation and desperately wanted to please. I slowly lowered my shorts, right down to my ankles; since I was not wearing panties nothing else was necessary; wanting to satisfy, anticipating and welcoming what was to come.

In tremulous voice I asked, “Should I now totally remove my shorts and spread my legs wide, exposing myself fully?”

“That will not be necessary at this time, but will be expected in future, when you are better trained. You only do as ordered; right now the most important thing is to present yourself in such a manner as to please your master.”

As I awaited my chastisement, I was pleased that my master had stayed to witness my punishment; I wanted him to observe my ignominy.

It did not take long before the strap was laid heavily on my ass, warming to a glow, three times and then the cane, heavy with intent, but surprisingly light, teased my bare ass.

Then, his voice intruded, demandingly: “Anna, your new trainer, will lay out undergarments, dresses and various items of attire and make-up, which will be there for you. Do you understand? She will instruct you in how you should dress and comport yourself in future!”

I was then dismissed, as if of no consequence. A small measure of animosity grew, not enough to blossom forth to anger, but enough to create a small resentment. Anna, in quiet voice, said: “Prepare yourself for tomorrow. Do not anger him, for then he can truly be a fiend.”

Day 2:

Despite his admonishment regarding dress, I arrived as usual in shorts and tank top, but today I sensed a difference. The atmosphere had changed; there was tension in the air, something expectant but nothing volatile. There were no explosives planned, just an ongoing exploration of my sexuality and nature. In gruff voice he asked me to remove my top and expose my breasts. I complied, not worried since they are small but well rounded. He admired and then probed them, teasing my nipples until they were aroused. Leading me to the bedroom, he then ordered me to undress, “sensuously”, and put on one of the garments laid out on the bed. It was a very skimpy dress, diaphanous in its transparency. He admired me for a while then seemed to lose interest and dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

I was about to leave when his assistant, Anna, arrived and asked me to change my dress. I changed into a short skirt and top, very revealing and provocative.

“Now I will train you in dress and make-up, essentials for any young woman in training.” Clothes, undergarments and diverse exotic apparel were already laid out. Initially, it did not particularly interest me, but as she continued, I started to get excited. I began to understand that more was less and, sometimes, less was more, as she laid out a whole new world to me. Realising that a little make-up could emphasise a feature, while diminishing or hiding another, knickers could be very enticing, if worn properly, whilst a thong though revealing, could be sometimes passé. I learned how to be provocative and elusive, with dresses and skirts or panties clinging, emphasising a curve of ass or thigh; some more provocative, some demanding attention. Hours later we emerged, totally enthralled by make-up, how a dress sensuously worn could emphasise a well- rounded ass or thigh, tight pants versus long skirts, latest fashions, ideal length of a skirt, whether knickers, panties or thong; how to lower or raise them to best effect, to provoke a certain reaction. In other words, a plethora of inconsequential trivia or vital information to every young female.

Day 3:

When I arrived I was more appropriately dressed in a tight pencil skirt and very revealing thong, pressed deeply into my ass. Alas, my master was more serious, more demanding, as if he had had a bad night; a little querulous and dyspeptic. Now I became a little nervous of him; in his present state of mind he could do me harm, possible injury, so I entered with great trepidation. But it was not so, since he was more interested in my libido. Asking me to lift up my dress and remove my thong, he explored my lower parts, wondering about my clitoris, since it was now elongated and engorged. He pondered it for a time, stroking it to its full extent, marvelling at its length and sensitivity.

Then, in a choked voice, he said: “I think it is now time for you to suck my cock.” Lifting my head and smiling, as if this was a great offering, he grabbed my hair and lowered my face to his crotch. “You know what to do.” With fumbling hands I unzipped göztepe escort his pants, reaching in to extract his penis. As it emerged, fully engorged, pendulous and weighty in my hands, I was in awe of its length and girth and wondered how I could possibly take it in my mouth, much less deep in my throat. His very next words confounded me: “Take me in, suck slow and hard until I come.” Hesitantly I took him in my hand, then lips and tongue to moisten and spittle to ease that mighty cock down my throat. Taking a deep breathe, I took him in my mouth, opening my throat to let him slide within, gagging as his hugeness throttled me. “Relax and enjoy” he said as he grasped my head and began to move in my mouth and throat, thrusting long and hard, groaning, never stopping, thrusting deep and slowly withdrawing. I looked up and saw that he was watching me closely, looking into my eyes in anticipation. He continued to fuck my mouth and throat until he began to come. His prick shuddered, spurting long strings of cum in my mouth and, as he withdrew, erupted all over my face. “Lick up and swallow every last drop,” he admonished me as he pulled out. His semen tasted of salt and must, not unwelcome but not that pleasant either.

Looking at me, almost with displeasure, he sighed, abruptly withdrew and left me greatly frustrated and angry.

Day 4:

Today was different, as he led me, not to the kitchen, but took me up a wide circular staircase, remarking over his shoulder “I have a surprise for you today.” I followed him to enter an ornate bedroom, deep plush carpets, antique furniture, its central feature a four-poster bed, but the real centrepiece was the exotic creature who lay upon the bed.

She was truly gorgeous, dark and dusky, red lips pouting, large breasts, slender waist above a totally nude cunt between widely spread legs. She was naked, of course, invitingly open.

I gasped in wonder of her beauty. I staggered forward, needing to approach, yet wanting to hold back, totally in awe. His quiet voice urged me on. “Women are so much more sensitive than men, who sometimes can be course or crude. She can explore and sensitize more areas of your body in such a short time than I ever could.”

I gazed in admiration as she smiled, a seductive smile, without moving her lips, it was all in her eyes, as they stared at me, hungrily.

Hesitantly, I approached the bed. Raising her head, she said “Disrobe and come to me.” In a trance I complied and soon was in her arms, enraptured, in such a warm and loving embrace.

She talked dirty to me at first, sweet nothings, so suggestive as to raise goosebumps on my skin; as I accepted her urgent ministrations with hands on my breasts, then my clit and ass. I was getting so excited that I hardly heard her urgent talk; had I ever taken it up the ass or in my mouth, sucked cock, swallowed cum, had more than one man at a time or had I experienced the wonders of the isle of Lesbos?

I did not care, since I was totally enthralled by this dusky, dark beauty, as she fingered and licked me all over. I was excited, since I had never been with a woman before, particularly someone who suggested things I had never thought about but, perhaps, always wanted.

I was shocked when she said “Would you like to lick and suck my cunt. I think you would really enjoy that?” I was about to rise up and depart, when I surprised myself by saying “Yes, I would very much love to do just that.” She was just so hauntingly beautiful.

And so began my slow descent to perdition. I slid down her sleek body, licking her breasts and navel; then, with tongue and lips, slowly between her thighs. Honey, almond and apple scents mingled with musk as I approached her secret passages. It was like a rose without thorns, a rosebud opening in morning dew, perfectly formed.

Mouth open, all inhibitions gone, I lapped at her offering, surprised that it should be so sweet and compliant.

Disturbingly, she said, “Now, would you like to suck on and arouse my sweet clitoris?” I was already totally lost, kissing her secret lips. Her clitoris sprang forth like a small prick, coming alive in my mouth, erect and stiff. I sucked on it long and hard; it seemed to throb and lengthen on my tongue, but that was just my imagination or was it?

“Now just slit to slit,” she whispered in my ear, as she rubbed me with long strokes, her shaved pussy rubbing my hairy cunt up and down.

I almost came, but she slowed, slid down my body, kissed my navel, chewed on my pubic hair and then sucked on my engorged lips. Her tongue sprang forth, forcing an entry, penetrating deeply. Then she raised my legs, shoulder high and began licking and then penetrating my ass with her tongue. Although strangely erotic and arousing, I was not comfortable with this and began to resist. “The lady doth protest too much” she said in a husky voice, “Relax and enjoy.”

A warmth spread throughout my body as her tongue penetrated deep and then deeper into my üsküdar escort ass. I never thought anal penetration could be so arousing. She moved upward and began again.

She bit gently upon my lips, then my chin, lowered to my breasts and bit hard on my nipples. I cried out in ecstasy, as pain and pleasure surged through me. I had never felt such exquisite sensations before.

“This much pubic hair is unsightly and must be removed.” Then I realised she was clean shaven, her pudendum protruding as if alive, demanding attention.

Suddenly I felt ashamed, my unwanted hair an impediment, but her calming words soothed me; “We will remove this hair and send you protruding, beautiful and naked upon the world.”

The balm of her words set me at ease and we progressed into an easy congress, culminating in ecstasy and total pleasure.

Interlude: I am laid out on my back on a bed in a different room, totally nude, legs wide apart, about to be shaved. I begin to object but cannot, because an unknown hand is over my mouth and another holds my legs apart; I am urged to silence. They are shaving my pussy! I struggle to no avail, then relax and stare down at a pussy now totally shorn and naked. It is pouting, red lipped and perfect in every way!

Day 5:

Then a strange phase began, more intense, when he finally spanked me. I was dressed in a skimpy skirt and frilly panties, wanting to please or, at least, distract my master, but today was different. I sensed it immediately when I spotted the strap on the table. There was a change in atmosphere as I knew he expected more. He wanted total compliance, wanted my total submission. Realising what he needed of me, I slowly raised my skirt and laid myself over the kitchen table, legs straight, ass in position, asking to be spanked.

He surprised me by saying: “Anna will warm you up with the strap before I begin your true chastisement. I will watch to ensure you are properly prepared.”

His words sent a thrill through me, since I was to be observed and watched.

Quietly I asked: “Should I remove everything or remain partly clothed?”

“No,” was the immediate reply. “All I need is for you to lower your panties to mid-thigh, dip your back but keep your legs straight, and raise your ass in anticipation.” I complied as best I could.

Anna then entered. A brief silence ensued and until she said “I think I will adjust your panties to better accommodate the strap.” She moved forward, blocking all view and, with butterfly fingers, she stroked and caressed my ass and cunt. “I will not be too severe, but I must prepare you as best I can, for the caning itself can be harsh.” she whispered.

Stepping back, she picked up the strap, hesitated, raised and lowered it, as if undecided.

“You realise this is not your punishment but merely a warm-up to your caning?”

I nodded slowly, understanding what she said.

She began to strap me then, gently at first, then again with increasing severity. My ass sang to her admonishment, reddening to her ministrations; I did not hurt so much at first and then melded into other emotions, approaching the edge of pleasure, but never getting there. She did not stop, continuing to more pain, approaching bliss. Notwithstanding her promise, she continued beyond the norm, striking again and again until my reddened ass was finally ready for the cane.

“Now totally remove your panties, spread your legs wide and present yourself in proper fashion for the cane.”

With trembling hands and legs shaking, I removed my scant panties and lowered myself over the table, legs spread as wide as possible, ass raised in supplication, vulnerable in its offering.

In tremulous voice I said: “I am now ready to receive my ultimate castigation. Master, please chastise me as you see fit.”

Then in dreaded voice, he said “It is now time for me to cane you. Are you ready?” My buttocks trembled, shaking in anticipation, afraid of what was to come.

Fearing the worst but wanting more, I cried: “Please master, I beg that you truly cane me severely. All I want is to please you. I know that I have been really bad and need to be punished today!”

He waited a long time as I quaked in anticipation, letting the moment grow.

When the cane finally descended, it was much worse than I feared, since the first strokes sent searing pain down my thighs, legs and entire body. I shuddered, fearing the next strokes, feeling the welts rise, as each blow raised a fresh blister on my ass. He was relentless as he caned me, first to red and then to purple and then to bruising perfection.

Tears came unbidden to my eyes; through the blur and mist of pain I glimpsed a mirror, strategically placed to reflect both myself and my nemesis, relentlessly caning me.

He stood tall, legs spread wide, cane raised, about to descend. Suddenly everything started to change. A slow mist began to rise, obscuring my vision. As it cleared, his outline shifted, at the very edge of consciousness, seeming to dissolve and run as melting wax as a shapeless image arose, dissolving into something else, an unclear aura of something between man and beast. I shook my head to clear it of such fancies, returning to the reality of my pain.