Last night I made the huge mistake of pressing my Queen to drink more champagne that she usually would, and of opening a second bottle after the first was emptied. Together we consumed about half of the second bottle before we started to have some disagreements.
She asked me if I always wear her panties, as she had previously instructed. I said, “Yes, except when they need to be washed. There are some days when they are drying after being washed.”
She fixed me with an intense green stare, and said “What do you mean?” “As I said, my Queen, some days my panties are drying, so I wear my own men’s underwear.”
Her previously happy and relaxed expression changed dramatically. A thunder cloud gathered on her brow. “You should always obey me, no matter what!” “But my Queen….” “Shut the fuck up! You are my slave. There can be no excuses for disobedience!”
She was angry! I had never seen her like this. Intense, yes, but never angry. I reached into my submissive depths to try to find a way to placate her, to dampen the fire of her anger.
“My Queen, I am so sorry. I thought I was being practical, keeping all the panties until they all needed washing at the same time.”
But she was rather drunk. She would not be placated for one second.
“Strip!” The words were spat out of her mouth at me. I trembled. I have experienced before what can happen when my Queen tells me to strip. Pain. Always.
A slave must obey, so in a few seconds I was naked. “Hands behind back!” I obeyed. She stormed into her bedroom, and came back carrying a coil of red rope. In a few seconds she had looped the rope several times around my wrists, pulling it so tight that it took my breath away. She forced my arms high up my back and knotted her rope around my neck so that my upper body was immobilized and painfully secured.
“On the bed, face down!” came the order. I quickly obeyed.
In the next instant I entered a world of intense pain. She used her cane on my buttocks.
“You!” swish whack! “Will!” swish whack! “Never!” swish whack! “Disobey!” swish whack! “Me!” swish whack “Again!”
The words were screamed at me. The force of the cane was devastating. I never knew that she was so strong. She continued the caning as I writhed and bucked and screamed helplessly on the bed. I couldn’t count the number of strokes. They never stopped. Some time later I passed out.
When I came to I realized that my ankles and thighs were bound by the red rope. She was sitting on the bed, her eyes still smouldering, but she seemed calmer.
“Have you learned your lesson, my slave?” Through my tears of pain and remorse, I stammered “Y..yes, my Queen. I will never disobey you again.” “Good. Now you will sleep in the dog cage. This will complete your punishment. After that I will forgive you.” “Yes my Queen” I murmured.
She pulled me by my leash and collar towards the cage. I half crawled, half slithered across the floor, and she pushed me through the door with her foot, closed it and locked it. There was a thin blanket on the steel bars of the cage floor. I curled up on my side in the cramped space, and knew that I would not sleep a wink in that uncomfortable place. My buttocks were still on fire. I wanted to feel them; I was sure that my fingers would find blood there. But my arms were still tied high up my back and I had no hope of escape.
As I lay there I swore an oath to myself, that I would never again encourage my Queen to drink too much champagne, and even more, I would never ever disobey her again.