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She was drawn to the building which was odd in itself as there was nothing special about it. As a matter of fact it was rather rundown, a two story wood and concrete affair that might have been a business at one time but now had only a simple signpost out front that said “retreat”.

Walking up the stairs she wondered if she would be intruding and wondered even more why she was doing this. It was totally outside her nature to simply go into a place uninvited. She was much too shy for that, and had been taught very well the lessons in how to remain secure in a very unsafe world.

But travel the stairs she did and on the second floor she found a large open room that linked to a double wide door on the opposite wall and what appeared to be a corridor with many rooms adjacent. There was lovely art work on the walls, all originals and in many forms, and so she thought perhaps it was an artist’s retreat.

As she wandered slowly, looking at the pieces on the wall, a stream of women came in, smiling warmly to her as they all moved to a circle in the open room. They seemed absolutely radiant and their conversation and laughter seemed to fill the room with light. They seemed to be talking about a shared religion and started a low chant, punctuated by hugs and smiles to one another. It was very peaceful and one woman turned and invited her to the circle but she softly shook her head no and quietly added “thank you”.

Her reticence was that she did not share their faith in whatever was joining them together. But she thought she had it now. This was a religious retreat. Still, it was peaceful and she wandered as they chanted until she found a small room unnoticed at first and stepped inside. Honestly, she thought, I am being so bold today, but it feels right.

It was an atrium with misted air and very high ceilings and a lovely arrangement of comfortable wicker seats. She let her eyes drink in the beauty of the plants and breathed deeply, relaxingly. Without thought she began to sing. Her voice was low and lovely, and she just couldn’t help but make music sometimes. It seemed to just happen, hardly aware of the song she was singing. But the room was perfect, the acoustics beckoned and her soul began to sing. She came to a line and sang the refrain, only to spin in surprise as she was corrected in one of the words. A very large man stood there, short hair, hoop earrings, broad expanse. My god she had rarely seen a man that large. And he was right — the line she had sung was wrong. So she sang it over, partially annoyed at his having interrupted her music, a bit defiant that he was spoiling her privacy, and, as always if someone was listening, afraid to sing aloud. He began to speak as she started to sing, saying that the song she sang was by Richardson. She sang over him — louder — and he spoke again. “It’s a sad song, really”.

She looked up at him and just a bit imperiously said “the song was written by Smotherman, not Richardson”. The big man smiled and nodded. “Yes,” he said, “at the request of his Master.” She reeled. Surely she didn’t hear what he said correctly. She felt her stomach sink as if an elevator shaft line suddenly snapped, and surely her wave of confusion must have traveled over her face, although she said nothing. She tried to sing again but couldn’t. He continued to speak conversationally about the origin of the song and then of his knowledge of the origin of the writer, adding casually “I know a lot about such things, and a lot about slaves.”

This time she knew she heard him correctly. She hardly knew why she did it but he spoke so very softly to her as he bade her to come with him, speaking of singers and writers of songs and she spoke with him easily. She didn’t hide her knowledge of music, he’d heard her sing and knew she loved it. They spoke as friends, although he was surely the more confident of the two, as they walked down a back set of stairs and he unlocked a door with a key that looked tiny in his beefy hands.

She stepped in before him and her eyes widened. It was a dungeon. Beautifully appointed, extremely large. Not like some dungeons that looked like 24/7 gyms with all the gear lined up mechanically. This was subtle, lovely fabrics, alcoved areas with hints of gear and soft play of recessed lighting.

He was still talking about music as was she, although she was eyeing the room rather unabashedly. Tilting his head he spoke one word to her. “Nadu”. His voice was soft, not a barking command, just a word out there in the room. Just one little word spoken with a sense of one testing a theory. She folded before him as color rose on her cheeks. Letting her knees hit the heavily carpeted floor she drew them wide apart, wider than she had before as her hands moved to rest, palm upward upon them. She straightened high from a narrow waist and lifted her chin up, tossing dark curls against her neck, so strong she was, head high and proud as she lowered thick lashes of smoky blue eyes.

“Ah,” he said, “I thought so”.

She sensed his smile of a theory proven correct as his conversation continued casually. She flinched only a little as she felt his hands unbutton her deep purple duster, lightly throwing it back to reveal the lacy demi-bra she wore beneath it. Sitting back in his chair he bade her look at him. She looked up warily, the look a bit embarrassed, a bit defiant, but immediately responsive.

“What is your name, lovely one”, he asked. She colored deeper surprising herself with the answer “it is whatever pleases you, Master”, and was immediately rewarded with a smile that lit his face up. Really he was handsome, and that alarmed her as she felt herself drawn to him. She resisted the force even as she waited for his response.

He lifted the riding crop that he held across his lap, using it to part the fabric of her blouse further, running it lightly over the swell of abundant breasts, watching the large nipples harden instantly. A low chuckle came from him as he tilted his head again in thought. Idly he tapped the crop against her nipples and watched as she took a sharp breath but tried to hide that she did.

“You are saji the songbird. That is what you will be called when you are here in your retreat”. Saji. Saji the songbird. She tried it out in her mind and found it lovely. The name was like a musical note. Compelling, pure, fun to say, and a metaphor for the beauty of it. Your retreat he said. Your retreat. Not a religious retreat then. A retreat of the sort needed by the one who entered it.

“What is your name, lovely one” he repeated, and she smiled and said “saji, this one’s name is saji, Master”. His blue eyes found hers and he leaned forward and eversogently kissed her lips. “good girl”, he said, “I think saji is a very good girl”. She preened just a little with the praise, warming to her name and the room and this Master.

“But, saji, do you remember what happened upstairs when I tried to speak to you and you were singing?” She flushed deeply and nodded her head. “Well, saji, what did you do”? She tried to drop her eyes and he spoke in a deeper voice “saji, were you told to lower your eyes”? She raised them instantly and saw the patience on his face as she struggled for voice. “saji tried to sing over you, to drown you out”.

“Precisely” he said. “and that is not allowed, is it little saji?”

She shook her head no, suddenly fearful. “No, Master, it is not allowed, and saji begs your mercy”.

“Very good, saji, but you shall not have my mercy today. Today you must learn that a slave who is disobedient will be punished. If I didn’t punish you for that you would not respect me. And, my sweet saji, I promise you, you will respect me. My poor little saji is going to ache for many days remembering that she has displeased her Master. I almost feel sarry about that, saji, but, you have earned it and I will always give you what you earn.”

“I want you to rise now and go to the changing room which is the first door on the far wall. You will find appropriate attire there and I am confident you will know what to choose. Hang your own clothes with care for when you leave the retreat you will put them back on, but the garb you wear while here will always be here just for you saji. Oh, and saji?”

“Yes, Master” she asked?

“No reason for third person speech here. It is an artifice not necessary and much too confusing. Unless ordered to speak like a slave in the future, please feel free to keep your pronouns to yourself”. He smiled with a flash of humor and she felt her warm smile in response.

Her hands shook as she rocked lightly, using them to help push herself up from the floor, realizing a tremble of pure fear and pure adrenaline as she made her way to the room. Aware that his eyes were following her, testing her, she slowed her steps and emphasized the swell of softly rounded bottom, drawing on training to guide her as her sense of excitement, longing, and confusion blotted out most of her rational thought.

She smiled as if given a wonderful gift as she entered the small room. It was mirrored all round and had only one item hanging on the rack. A sign was hanging above it and her eyes drank it in hungrily. “Saji’s Retreat”. Oh my oh my this room was meant for her. This retreat was meant for her. It was right and it was real and it was hers. The feeling of utter pleasure that washed over her almost blocked her fear of the punishment she was about to receive.

The silks were red as befitted her training, and so very lovely, hugging her soft curves, the deep vee of the tunic bodice barely covering her nipples, the light cording wrapping her slender waist, the hem of the skirt just covering the lovely line where bottom and thighs meet. She spun around in the room, her reflection catching her as she laughed happily. There was nothing else to put on in the room. Somehow she guessed that some other times there would be.

With a last glance at herself in the mirror she reentered the room and crossed quickly back before him. Although her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she felt off balance, she managed to regain the proper kneeling position almost effortlessly, realizing with a flush to high boned cheeks that this time her legs spread wide apart his view would not be obstructed by the material of her slacks and panties. She forced her gaze down, every fiber of her being alert and aware beneath her serenely composed posture.

She felt the crop press against her chin and lifted her face and eyes to him. His eyes were gentle, a deep azure color, and his face strong and intelligent. She realized only after the sound escaped her lips that she whispered a sound, a tiny little “oh” as he caught her eyes and held her captive there. “Come, saji,” he said, “come up over my lap and let’s see what how you do through your first punishment”.

It felt surreal to her, the turmoil of her body and her mind as they fought for control, response, refusal, and the realization that she was doing it. She was submissively climbing up, sliding over his strong thighs, feeling the reach for the floor with both hands, only able to scrabble fingertips. Really, he was so large in comparison to her. Although her figure was lush, breasts full and round on a strong chest, strong shoulders, she was small everywhere else. So small that her fingers could not reach, her toes could not reach, and she lay draped helplessly as he tucked one arm firmly around her waist.

She could not brace against anything in this position. Only inwardly could she gird against the onslaught although she worked hard consciously not to tense her muscles, trying to remain open to him as her eyes shut tight. She was barely breathing, steeling herself so vigorously for pain that she cried out in surprise when his hand began to caress the mounded hillocks of pale bottom flesh. He cupped them, ran fingers over them, pressed them together, and tickled her lightly until she began to squirm and relax.

Without warning his hand crashed down on her firmly with a loud THWACKKKKKKKKK. Steadily, stolidly he spanked her as she squirmed from side to side. SLAPPPPPPPP and she squirmed to the right. SMACKKKKKKKKKK as he touched up the spot where her bottom met her thighs. She bounced and bucked but held back from shouting but sheer will. Her bottom was blazing with heat by the time he finished and she began to relax, gasping for breath, relief that it was over at last communicating in a wave from head to toe.

His hand caressed her skin lightly, encouraging her when she spread her legs, lightly running down the back of her thighs as she began to roll her hips just a little against his thigh.

“Is it hot, saji”, he asked?

“Oh, yes, Master, it is very hot and scratchy, and I have learned my lesson”.

He chuckled, the sound bubbling low from his belly as he lifted his hand high and brought it down in a sharp SLAPPPPPPPP against her hot and slick cunt. She JERKED in stark surprise and pain and a high squeal filled the air.

“No, saji, you are not done, we have just begun” he said in a low voice.

She started to whimper, not sure her bottom, which surely blazed beet red by now, could take any more. He lifted her to her feet and walked her, holding her hand, to a padded horse. Cordially, with almost stately grace, he waved his hand towards it in invitation. She looked up into his eyes for a moment, a faint pleading expression quickly doused by the steadiness of his gaze. She took a very very deep breath and leaned over, finding that once again it was built for one taller than her, so she was on the tips of her toes as she felt him attach her left ankle to a leg of the horse, and then her right.

“I’m going to leave your hands free, saji, unless I see your contortions put you in jeopardy of hurting yourself. If so, I’ll tie your hands as well.”

Her reply was a low whimper and a flipping that went over and over in her belly.

He ran his hand flat over her flanks and quickly dipped two fingers into her parted cunt lips, seemingly pleased to find her close shaven and neatly presented to his inspection. She groaned and rolled her hips, the heat from her bottom resonating into her and adding to the fire that his fingers ignited. As quickly as he had entered her, he removed his fingers, only to lightly mark her bottom and thighs with her wetness. With a sickening realization she realized that he was wetting her skin for the blows he was about to deliver.

She heard a sharp whisssssssssshhh sound and the riding crop connected hard against her thighs, catching them high against her bottom and forcing her to her tiptoes. She arched for a moment but had no time to recover as the next blow and the next followed in rapid succession, over both cheeks, down each thigh. She arched high and began to twist and turn and he stopped a moment.

“Do you need to be tied, saji” he asked?

“yes, Master, please” she moaned as tears flooded down her face. It was unbelieveable the amount of pain that traveled up and down her body. She realized she had been twisting so hard she was slamming the bones of her hips against the horse, and realized why it was so generously padded. He walked around the front of the horse and tied her hands, making sure to position her belly on the softest part of the padding as he did so. Brushing back the dark hair that was spilling forward on her face he wiped one of the tears that were flowing abundantly from her clear blue eyes, and brought the salty water to his lips, sucking it off slowly. He then leaned forward to kiss her lips, a heavy kiss of deep passion that made her head swim. His voice came out low and thick as he said “oh yes, my saji, you are a good girl and you will be even better when you know you will be punished when you aren’t a good slave, won’t you”? She simply nodded, crying softly.

“We are almost done, saji, so bear up bravely for this part. It will hurt the most”.

So saying she watches as he walked before her, cane in hand. Oh no, she thought, oh no oh no. She began to plead “Master please not that not that not that!!!!!” He placed one finger over her mouth and whispered “shhhhhhhhhhhh”.

He ran the wicked cane over the weals already raised by the crop and she groaned, lost in fear as she began to sob and shake.

“You will receive six, saji, and you won’t soon forget them, I promise”. He lifted his arm and let it fall hard right over the split between her ass cheeks, running over her asshole and emitting a piercing scream from her in response. The next two came quickly, one on each thigh and she began to shake hard. He brought it down hard once again at the bottom of her cheek, the whippy end pressing dangerously close to her parted cunt lips and bringing howls of pain from her. She lost count of the number by now and was thrashing her head up and down, sobs so loud they filled the space.

He pulled her right thigh tightly up to make the skin even more taut and brought the cane down in a strong swipe that had her jerking and bouncing. Then he brought it down once more in a cut that went just under the earlier one across the seat of her bottom, insuring that sitting was going to be a difficult task for her for many days.

Immediately he knelt behind her. He covered her bottom and thighs with kisses and licked his way over the raised weals, bringing his teeth to scrape against them and eliciting moans and screams from her as she began to buck against him hungrily. Her wetness was clear and he slipped the two fingers into her, pumping as she clutched him wantonly, then removed them again, only to slip one deeply into her ass. She groaned and shuddered as if touched by lightning and pumped her hips — trying in vain to find something to press her engorged clit against.

He stood up and spoke softly.

“Do you know what the punishment is you received, saji”, he asked?

“The spanking, the cropping, the caning, Master”, she sobbed in response.

“No, saji”, he went on. “Do you want to cum, lil saji songbird”, he asked?

She sobbed and nodded her head “yes, Master, oh yes, I do”.

“Do you think I want to give you that pleasure”, he asked”

“Yes, Master, yes I do” she cried.

“You’re right”, he said. “But your punishment is that you are brought to this place and you will not cum. You will never cum from punishment. You will be whipped and brought to orgasm as often as possible because you love it saji, but never ever in punishment. And you will have to know that it hurts my heart to have to deny my little saji”

With those words she broke into fresh tears of remorse as he untied her and bade her rise. She tried, she truly did, but she couldn’t find her legs to walk, so he carried her, but not back to his comforting arms. He brought her to the corner and laid her on her belly with her face near the wall.

“You will remain there, saji, until you can lift your bottom high. If any other Master comes in while you are in the punishment corner you will wag your bottom side to side in silent greeting. Once you can lift your bottom high you will stay that way for 15 minutes. I will advise you of when the 15 minutes start and when it ends. During that time you will reach between your legs and bring yourself to the edge of climax and you will stop yourself right on the brink. You will keep yourself right at that point until the time is over”.

She could not believe that fresh tears were possible, but she also didn’t know how she’d raise her bottom on such rubbery legs. And to do what he bade her meant to stretch again the burning welts. She struggled. She tried to push up and lost her ground several times, then finally achieved her bearing and planted her knees firmly beneath her with a groan of pain.

“The time starts now, saji, go”.

She reached between her already sopping legs and pressed two fingers firmly above her clit, pressing down and almost instantly was ready to cum. The minutes passed so slowly as she felt her body screaming for release, needing release, so close to the edge oh please won’t you let me cum, Master please??? He counted the minutes as her whimpering and moans became excruciating and finally he said “Fifteen. Stop”.

She drew her finger away and dropped her face to her hands completely undone. His arms lifted her lightly as if she were weightless and he brought her to a sofa wide enough for two and laid her on her belly, then on her side to face him. He curled her body close to his and she sobbed and he held her close, kissing her hair and her eyes and cheeks. She sobbed until her body lay in his embrace in a deeply quiet place, the throb of her need to cum edging back as she nestled against him.

“Next time, saji”, he said, “my poor little songbird will cry with joy”

And she nodded into his chest, then looked up to his eyes ardently. “Master, saji is so sorry for earning punishment. Will you please say the words she needs to hear”?

He smiled softly and leaned close to her ear. “You are forgiven, songbird”.

And she closed her eyes with a soft, deep sigh, relaxing fully into his arms, drifting as she dreamed about her next trip to her retreat.

~~ pyxi{OcL}, a gift for her Master

story © Copyright 2004 by pyxi{OcL} of #the-Lara-inn, all rights reserved, used by permission of the Authoress.

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