Yes Sir – A True Tale of Trickery

It wasn’t our first play party, but it may as well have been. The crowd had grown quite substantial in the past forty minutes, and while I knew many in attendance, I didn’t know more. Sticking close to my Domme friend, Lady V, she introduced me to herds of people, most of whose names I wouldn’t remember, whether given or alias. There was simply too much to take in and so many hands to shake or be embraced by.

“You’re up, MrsK,” a voice alerted me from behind. Turning in place, I eyed the informant, raising an eyebrow.

“Up? Up for what?” I asked with sincere questioning. Mister K and I had talked about playing in public but hadn’t as yet set any plans. I was unaware of any time slots reserved in our name.

“Room two, in the dungeon. Mister K says to hurry, you’re already late.”

Looking at Lady V with an exasperated look, she simply shrugged, then smiled a sly grin that caught me off guard. She’d known about this and hadn’t warned me. Giving her a we’ll talk about this later look that only made her chortle, I placed my drink down, smoothed the wrinkles out of my unwrinkled lace lingerie and descended the stairs.

The dimly lit space required a few moments of adjustment before it came into focus. Someone had taped a large open room off, separating it into four smaller sections. Each could be closed off with heavy black curtains for privacy if desired or left open to the voyeuristic pleasure of the crowd, or the exhibitionist preference of those in scene. All four curtains were currently pulled back and strapped in place to wood-paneled walls.

Walking past the first space, I stopped to peer into the shadows only to find a woman bound in a hogtie on the floor. A gag placed in her overly stretched mouth, a blindfold secured over her eyes. Above her stood a leather clad Dom, who was pumping a long, thick dildo into her evidently wet pussy. This section was scented heavily with the aroma of lavender and vanilla, and beneath that, the very distinct smell of arousal tinged the air. Although I wanted to watch the scene before me, I knew better than to stall. It would not impress Mister K.

Turning around, I searched the dim area for his familiar form and found him a few steps away, watching me with interest. A raised eyebrow told me he wondered what I thought of the scene I had just witnessed; my answer was a wide smile that exposed all my teeth. He responded with a low chuckle. Holding out his hand, soundlessly asking me to join him, he waited until I placed mine in his.

Just as I stepped into the outlined space, a flood of people started descending the stairs. While obviously trying to be as quiet as possible to let the people in scene stay in their head spaces, the stampede of so many brought its own manner of disturbance. I looked around to take in the press of bodies, but had my gaze returned to my Sir, with the tip of a single finger.

“Eyes on me. Don’t worry about them. They will not interfere, simply watch.”

My eyes turned into large saucers at this. We hadn’t played in public previously, and the thought of being watched made me beyond nervous. Doing my best to simply trust my Dom and behave like a perfect submissive, I nodded gently, and said, “Yes, Sir.”

“It seems you’re due for a punishment.”

I knew it was coming, and long overdue. I hadn’t completed a direct order, and I understood there would be consequences, even if the penalty was slow to come. Knowing there was little I could do to talk myself out of it, I lowered my eyes, suddenly finding the bare floors an impressive sight.

“Yes, Sir.”

“All these lovely people have come to watch you take your punishment and give suggestions as they see fit.”

My eyes came up quickly, before they turned to take in the crowd. It was mostly men, many of whom were nameless to me. A few submissive’s were kneeling at their Masters’ feet, but that did little to make me feel better. Looking back at my Sir, I found him smiling like a cat who just ate the canary and knew he was having a great time making me very uncomfortable. Damn sadist!

“Shall we start then?” He asked, taking a step to the side. Behind him was a low table, adorned with more tools and toys than any one person could think of. Among the displayed wares, I saw a mean-looking knife, a flogger that had to weigh half as much as I did, and a set of clover clamps. Not having tried them, I had been told of their uniquely debilitating grip and swallowed audibly. I looked back to Mister K, who appeared more in his element than I had ever seen him. 

“If you’ll strip down, and take your place on the cross, we can begin.”

Since I was wearing lingerie, stripping was an easy feat. But as I was stepping onto the wooden apparatus, he said, “Stop! I told you to strip.”

Stepping back, I turned to face him, knowing I marked my face in surprise. 

“The panties too. That’s what stripping means.”

I wasn’t aware I was doing it, but apparently my head was shaking from side to side, the word “no” on the tip of my tongue. I’d been topless and dressed in only panties at functions many times, but this part of my body made me very self-conscious. I didn’t want any of these strangers to see it. Even my yearly exam at the doctor’s office gave my heart a better workout than a day of cardio at the gym. I contemplated using my safeword; I could, and it would be over, although the punishment I was due would still come. It may even be worse. Taking in the crowd one more time, I noticed most were watching, quite fascinated. Would the quaking submissive do as she was told and expose her most intimate part? No, she would not, at least yet.

“Sir, I need your help.” I’d never said those words in a scene before, and I could tell it quite surprised him to hear them. Grabbing a blindfold, he stood directly before me and slipped it over my head. The blackness took over, and I felt myself relax. Any further anxiety melted away as his hands gently caressed my arms and neck. 

“Better?” he asked, and I nodded once, informing him I was ready to continue. 

Leading the way, Mister K told me to take a step up, still holding my arm for balance. Sighing, more to even out my breathing than to let out my sense of exasperation, I did just that, feeling very much like I was going to my crucifixion. Suddenly at my ear, Mister K’s warm breath wafted over me as he said, “You’re so brave, and very sexy. All these men want you, and the women want to be you. Think nothing different.”

I couldn’t say anything for the unshed tears clogging my throat, so I simply nodded once more.

Speaking louder, so the crowd could hear, he continued. “Now that you’re blindfolded, I have asked for some headphones, so you can’t hear what the crowd will suggest. Ready?”

Knowing I wouldn’t have any qualms, or that I wouldn’t voice them publicly, he secured the headphones over my head. The soothing sounds of Enya filled my ears and I smiled at his music choice. 

After fastening cuffs to my wrists and attaching them to the cross, it seemed like he left me there for an eternity. I was counting the passing seconds by the rapid beating of my heart, which was thumping much too fast to be accurate. Something cold brushed upon my leg, and I jumped with a start. The knife, it had to be. Keeping that thought in the forefront of my mind kept my movements halted. 

The dull edge pressed against my hip, and then my g-string was pulled from its place. He must have walked around me, as the sensation started again on the other side, and then my panties fell away, brushing a single foot as they landed on the floor. A cool breeze brushed over my exposed lips, and the thought of being suspended to the cross, nude, with the crowd scrutinizing me had me releasing a loud moan. Whether from arousal or fear, I was unsure.

The internal sensations changed as a vibration began on my ankle and slowly trailed up to my center. The juddering of the device alerted my libido, and I felt the first wave of unquestionable arousal rush over me. Just as it settled exactly where I needed, it was taken away and placed on the opposite ankle to start its journey north once more. 

After teasing me mercilessly for more time than I would have liked, the vibrations moved to my nipples, then over my abdomen, before being again pushed to my core. I stifled the moan that threatened to overtake me, aware that I had an audience. Something made me hold back, not show the true height of my arousal. He pushed the toy into me until my body matched it trembling pace, then pulled it away. I went limp in the cuffs as I recovered.

His fingers began at my nipples, pulling them, twisting, and then using what must have been his teeth. Suddenly here was a tremendous pinching sensation on one that had me gritting my teeth until the ache was licked away with an experienced tongue. The action was repeated on the other side, and I knew he had used the clover clamps. Only they could create an impact such as this.

“What colour?” he asked, nudging the headphones to the side, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Green,” came my breathy reply, and I felt his smile before the headphones were back in place.

The first smack to my rear made me hiss. The second came faster, harder, but I was better prepared. For longer than I can recall, he took his time slapping my ass with his hand, a crop and eventually I was aware of the heavy tails of the flogger.

Time stood still as I floated somewhere between here and there. A euphoria settled over me and I felt cathartically blissful. With no warning, the strokes changed, and I realized the familiar sting of a cane. 

Used to having to count each lick of the bamboo, I kept the tally inside my head. One, two, three… seven, eight, nine. I began squirming, moving onto tiptoes, and then grunting with eat strike. At fifteen he stopped, pulled the headphones to the side, and asked me again, “Colour?”

“Grello!”

“That’s not a word!” he said with a chuckle, and to emphasize his point he let the cane fly once again.

“How many strokes is that?”

“Sixteen, Sir!”

“Oh, you are a good girl. You should see this marvelous ass of yours, red and stripped, just the way I like it.”

His warm hands spread over my sore bum, soothing the sting away. I pressed myself back into him, enjoying the attention like it was the sweetest balm. Slipping his fingers into my wet heat, which had me moaning wantonly, he pumped a few times before pulling them out completely.

“My, my, you are a dirty girl. So wet!” The sound of sucking made me think he was licking his digits clean. “Four hits left, and then I’ll let you come. Would you like that, to come in front of all these people? To fall apart for their pleasure and yours, but mostly mine?”

I wanted to come, who wouldn’t? But I was unsure about the crowd seeing me. The last line, though, was what made me push on. Yes, I wanted to come for his pleasure. Okay, part of it was mine too, but mostly to make him happy. To know that he would be pleased with me, made me want to persevere.

“Yes, Sir, that sounds heavenly.”

The headphones were pressed back over my ears, and the cane lashes came in quick secession. Harder than that previous sixteen strokes, each one was worse, until I silently counted to twenty. 

Knowing the worst was over, I let my back and legs rest as I leaned against the St. Andrew’s cross, allowing it to hold my weight. My chest was heaving in large panting breaths, and a sweat had formed over the expanse of my skin. Now that the adrenaline of the cane had abated, a shiver began racking my form.

The vibrations started again, but there was no teasing this time around. Pressed straight to my center, the pulsations increased in intensity until my abdomen was mimicking the shaky movement. Taking me to the brink of euphoria, Mister K suddenly pulled the toy away, making me cry out in frustration. Again, the vibrations focused on my core and once more, at the height of ecstasy, he took it away.

Tears were leaking from my eyes. I knew this was part of his punishment. My bum was on fire and I had forgotten about the clamps until that moment, when he pulled the connecting chain violently while pressing the vibrator back onto my nub with force. The two sensations collided, and I fell apart, a low moan turning to a shrieking scream as he removed the clover clamps one at a time.

His fingers sunk back into me as the blood rushed to my abused nipples. The ache had me pulling on my cuffs, so I could hold them and tenderly ease their pain, but it was no use.

Sliding the blindfold off, he came around and licked then sucked one, then the other, relieving the deep ache, still lazily pumping his fingers. With his free hand, he removed the headphones and simply looked at me.

“You’re so beautiful and strong. You did so well. Come for me, one more time and then I’ll let you down.”

I came faster than I think I had ever before. The last waves pulsed through me, giving way to exhaustion from the intensity of the scene and being bound in place for so long. Undoing the cuffs, Mister K collected me in his arms, cradling me like a small child. It felt remarkable to be there, safe and secure. I laid my head against his shoulder and let my eyes flutter closed.

As he turned, I opened them to find the room empty. All the people that had occupied the space before were nowhere to be found. Looking around, I saw the entire dungeon was devoid of life, except the two of us.

“Sir? Where is everyone?”

“Oh, I sent them upstairs right after I put the headphones on you. No one sees what’s mine.”

I learned later that the suspected knife was actually a pair of blunt tip scissors we use for bondage. And those clover clamps? Simply binder clips (which may be just as bad). It’s strange what your imagination can do with the help of a trickster!

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For more about Tricks that people play, flip the 4 Thoughts page.

For more about Courage, hit the bullseye.

Want more punishment tales form MrsK, see Punishments.