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Sunset Key (iv) Passing Sirs Inspection

Where the last cottage was open and airy with windows everywhere, the next house was dark and closed. An ominous feeling overwhelmed my senses as I was made to walk down a long hall to Sir’s study. Blinds and shutters covered the few windows in this beachfront property. The walls were painted in dark colors and outlined with cherry wood trim. The house belonged back home, not on Sunset Key and certainly not on a beach.

Tina was not permitted to enter the house this time. Instead she took her post just outside the front door and the butler instructed me to walk down the long hallway on my right and through the double doors to Sir’s office. When I entered the room, Sir was sitting at his desk working through a stack of files. He did not stop and did nothing to acknowledge my presence for several minutes.

I stood waiting patiently in the middle of the room, very unsure of how to act or how the stand. Tina had outfitted me with the black corset, a thong, thigh high stockings, and pumps. There was no collar sent over this time and I somehow felt naked without it.

“Stay right where you are. Feet shoulder length apart, hands behind your back.”

With that he returned to his work paying little mind to the woman standing in front of him. He took phone calls, wrote emails, texted, and studied the files and intermittently he corrected me.

“Shoulders back, chin up but eyes to the floor. Who in the world trained you? This is very sloppy.”

I wondered if this is how the entire session was to play out. I thought about how most subs would prefer to be beaten or humiliated. But that’s not what I wanted. I was beginning to understand that it wasn’t the submissive life I yearned for. It was a life of serving only Brian that would satisfy my needs. Even with that sudden clarity, I still had the tasks before me. Brian had ordered them and therefore I would follow through.
At one point Sir got so disgusted with me that he called in his butler.

“This is becoming a distraction. Please remove her and correct that dreadful outfit she’s wearing? Also do something with her arms. She can’t seem to figure out what to do with them.”

The butler politely escorted me to a small bedroom off the hallway. He removed by heels and had me stand by the bedpost. While I held on for dear life, he tightened each section of string holding the corset together. He pushed my skin this way and that tucking any excesses into the corset and pulling my tits well out above the top. Instead of tying the corset strings in bows he tied knots. I was overcome with panic which made my breathing heavy and which in turn made the knots even tighter. Tina was going to have to cut me out of this thing.

I let go of the post and attempted to walk a little. The constriction made it difficult to balance. To make matters worse, the butler than fitted me with high heeled boots. They were black with 5 or 6 inch heels and went all the way up to my thighs. He had me walk around a bit to get used to them (like that was going to happen). To rectify my unruly arms, the butler than proceeded to tie my wrists to the back of my corset using the ends of the strings. I did not see this ending well. I couldn’t breathe, had trouble standing much less walking in the boots, and had no arms to catch myself if I fell.

With a nod from the butler, I returned to Sir’s study. I stood in front of his desk, just as I had before, and waited for his instructions. Again there was no acknowledgement. Sir continued to conduct his business seemingly unaware that I was even in the room. In spite of the sore muscles from standing in one position on those heels, I contented myself knowing that my ravished body was getting a break.

I had never been so used as I had under Tina’s watch. The days of being milked every three hours and punished occasionally had been replaced by constant abuse. I had gotten my body in a routine and now it seemed to be a free for all. As soon as I thought it, my milk came in. It hadn’t been even two hours since I was last milked. My body was responding to the constant attention to my breasts.

Terrified that I might upset Sir, I stood still when milk started dripping from my left breast. It was a slow drip that ran down the underside of the breast and onto the corset. A few drops fell even further, some catching in the boots. Eventually I had to say something.

“Sir?”

Before I could explain, Sir pushed his chair back from his desk and walked around to me. He stared as though he had never seen a breast before and just watched as the drip continued to soil the corset.

Then Sir walked across his study to a chair in the sitting area. He took a seat and waved me over. With feet numb from standing for so long, I carefully navigated my way across to where Sir sat. He pulled me forward so that I straddled him in the chair. My knees were wedged between his body and the sides of the chair and my arms remained laced behind my back. He reached around me and pulled me forward to capture a nipple in his mouth. He was rough and bit down instead of sucking. But once he got the hang of it, the milk squirted down his throat. He made no sign that he was enjoying himself, but just continued to gulp down the milk. When the one side was emptied, he switched and latched on to the other.

I could have sworn he smiled when he finished. But looking back, it must have been my imagination. When he stopped milking he guided me off his lap, slipped out of the chair, and returned me to the same position kneeling. He pushed my legs as far apart as possible and tethered my ankles to the feet of the chair. He pushed me forward so I leaned over the back of the chair and he used rope wrapped around my neck to secure my position.

“I train hundreds of girls. I have grown my business so large that I am able to be quite selective. Never in my life have I accepted someone as unprepared and unsuitable as you. However, there are two qualities that you have that I would like to investigate more.

First, you produce milk. I have yet to have a slave that can be milked. I can see where clients would pay enormous sums of money for a lactating bitch.

But it wasn’t until last night that I knew of your other quality. You see, your master asked me to go observe you. He is looking for someone that will take you off his hands from time to time. Maybe he will want a rest, or maybe he will choose to entertain another sub. But a great possibility is that there may be times when you need correcting and he is not strong enough to do it. All masters have associates that they share their merchandise with. I am considering whether I want that responsibility.

So at his request, I went to the cottage last night and watched you. What I observed is that you are not, in fact, a pain bitch. You may be drawn to the threat of pain, but you in no way transfer that pain to pleasure. The majority of slaves love pain and the masters know that they are pleasuring the subs by beating them. But your master…well, he must love to punish you for his own pleasure. He knows you don’t want it and gives it to you anyway. What I don’t know is if I am that kind of master. So that’s try a little experiment.”

With that Sir walked over to his desk and pulled a wooden ruler out of the drawer. He slowly walked back over and ran the ruler across by ass and between my legs. With tender pats he started to spank me with the ruler. The pats became harder and quicker. The ruler hit every part of me including my legs and my pussy. Even at full force I was able to handle the pain and I think that fueled Sir’s attempt at torture. He put the ruler to my lips and had me hold it between my teeth.

The next sound I heard was Sir removing his belt. The first lash landed right between my legs setting my pussy on fire. It was a good amount of force and the perfect placement to set me off. I wanted him to do it again, not hard, but over and over. He must have known I liked it because he quickly started wailing on my ass and ignoring my pussy altogether. He used all of his force. Most of his strokes were distributed evenly over my cheeks. But there was one spot he kept hitting. I thought for sure I was bleeding. I struggled against my bonds to no avail. I pleaded with him to stop. In my anguish the ruler fell from my mouth and I started screaming.

“Don’t worry about making too much noise. No one will come to your rescue. And I quite like the added bonus of hearing your suffering. So be as loud as you like.”

Sir took me well past my threshold of pain. I kept hoping that I would reach that point where pain turns over to pleasure. The place I keep reading about in all those books. But it never came. I didn’t just cry. I balled.
In the distance I heard the clock strike nine. Sir put his belt back on and walked back to his desk. He called in the butler who untied me, freed my arms, and took back the boots. As I was leaving, Sir commented, “I am that kind of master. And I will be seeing you again.”

His comment sent chills down my spine. I did not want to ever return to Sir and hoped that Brian would never deem it necessary. Tina met me out front. “It seems you passed inspection. Well done.” She gave me a see-through robe to wear over the corset. I don’t know why she bothered. My tits and bare ass were noticeably visible. The robe only served to rub against my sore butt cheeks as I walked reminding me of the beatings.

End of Story