I wait at the door, tense with excitement. Soft leather cuffs snugly encase my wrists and ankles. I am kneeling up tall, and my wrists are locked together behind my back. My leather body harness is wrapped around my torso, holding up my heavy breasts. The decorative chains from the collar of the harness brush against my breasts, causing my nipples to harden. I am waiting patiently for my Master to arrive, secure in the knowledge that I am exactly as he wants me, proud, beautiful.

He comes through the unlocked door and looks down at me. I wait for a smile of approval, but I see only anger.

"Where’s your leash, slave?" he asks me.

Mortified, I realise that I have forgotten one of his expectations. Humiliated, I bow my head down. I can feel the tears start to flow.

"Master, I forgot," I whisper in a small, trembling voice. I had tried so hard to be perfect for him. I am ashamed of my failure. I want to bow down and kiss his feet for forgiveness, but the cuffs chained behind me prevent me from doing so.

"Honest mistakes I can forgive," he tells me harshly, "But you should have known this. You’ll receive five strokes in punishment. Go into the bedroom and prepare yourself."

Crying, I rise up and walk to the bedroom, the chain snaps on my ankle-cuffs jingling against the wooden floor. I awkwardly unsnap the hooks from my wrist cuffs. I take hold of the paddle and kneel on the floor of the bedroom, holding the paddle in offering. I bow my head in shame, and wait for my Master to enter the room. The tears are still flowing.

I hear him come into the room, and he takes the paddle from my hands. My Master orders me to lie down on the floor with my ass high in the air for my punishment. He sits on the edge of the bed and caresses my flinching buttocks with the paddle.

"How many are you getting, slave?" he asks me.

"Five, Master," I whisper through my tears. The first blow comes as a sharp crack across my tender ass cheeks. "One of five, thank you Master." Again and again the paddle smacks my tight buttocks and my crying grows louder and more frenzied, but I count off the strokes and thank my Master for each one. The last blow is the hardest and I break down utterly. I collapse onto the rug and sob into my arms. I can’t even gasp out the final count through my crying.

"Come here, my love," I hear him murmur gently, and I struggle to kneel before him. I can’t even see him through the blur of my tears. He encircles me with his arms and I cry into his strong, warm chest. "You made a mistake, and you have been punished, and it’s over, love. You’re my good girl, my good little girl." I weep with surrender in his arms and manage to force out "Five of five, thank you Sir." His hands are stroking my hair, smoothing over my shoulders. I’m shaking from the violence of my crying. My buttocks are hot from the paddling, but the warmth feels sensual.

"Climb up on the bed, my good girl," he tells me.

I do as my Master commands and he tells me to then lie on my stomach. He fits my bit into my mouth and straps it on tightly. My Master snaps my wrist cuffs back together then ties a rope tightly from my wrists to my ankles. He lashes my ankles together and pushes my knees apart. I am completely incapable of moving, hog-tied. He takes the chain leads from the bridle and snaps them to my wrist cuffs, forcing my head up. I shake a little from the strain of holding this position. My body feels so tense. I force myself to relax, and ease into my bonds. Master takes hold of my shoulder and flips me onto my back, pinning my arms under me. My breasts are bared and my pubic lips are spread wide due to the position of my knees. In his hand is my Master’s riding crop.

"You told me you had no fear of my riding crop, slave," my Master reminds me. "I’ll teach you to respect and fear it."

He quickly flicks the leather tip of it against my left nipple. I gasp into my bridle. The pain is like an electric shock through my body. He’s never used the crop as more than a tool to manoeuvre my body before. He’s never punished me with it. I cry out with each flick of the crop against my nipples. My Master works down my body with the crop, whipping my inner thighs, my belly, and my breasts. He flicks the crop against my pubic mound and I scream behind my bit. I know my Master isn’t using his full force with the riding crop; he doesn’t need to. He spreads my pubic lips even wider and flicks the leather tip of the crop across my swollen clit. I moan with the first few blows, then start screaming. I pull my knees together to stop him from torturing my poor clit. Through all the pain, I can feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter from excitement.

"I told you to keep your knees apart, slut," he growls. My Master forces my knees apart again and starts to whip my pussy all over again. I cry out and pull my knees shut again. My juices are now running down the crack of my ass.

"If you can’t keep your knees apart yourself, slut, I’ll do it for you," he tells me. My Master takes out the spreader bar and lashes my knees to it, forcing them open. I can’t close them for anything. I try to writhe away, but my Master has stopped whipping my clit. He now pushes a huge dildo into my wet pussy and fucks me with it, hard. I thrust my hips towards him and moan in passion now.

"Are you going to come from this, slave?" he asks me, amused. I shake my head. It’s so good, but it’s not enough. He strokes the dildo in harder, deeper. My Master rubs his thumb over my tortured clit, and I let out a long, trembled moan. I know it will take much more to give me an orgasm, however. My Master knows too. He grabs hold of my shoulder and flips me back onto my stomach.

"Do you want these undone?" he asks me gently. I nod the best I can, and he unties my wrists from my ankles. I straighten my legs and sigh from the release of tension.

"Get up on your knees, slave," he tells me quietly. I do as my Master commands. I stay there, quivering, on my hands and knees, my face buried in the blankets on the bed. I can hear my Master getting some things. All of a sudden, I feel the quick buzzing of my vibrator against my pussy lips. I moan, and slide my pussy against the delicious source of sensation.

"I want you to give me four comes, slave. Count them off for me when you have them," he tells me. I then feel him sliding my anal dildo into my tight asshole. He fucks my ass hard and deep while I bear down on the vibrator, sliding it over my clit again and again. My body starts to shudder.

"One," I scream, garbling the word through my bit. "One, one, one!"

"That’s good, slut," he tells me. "Only three more to go."

The next come follows quickly after the first, and happens more because of the intense sensation of the dildo fucking me roughly up the ass than the vibrator. "Two, two, two, two, two!" I howl.

The third and fourth orgasms are draining and magnificent. After the fourth, I collapse on the bed, bathed in clean sweat and smelling of sweet pussy juice.

"Back up on your knees, slave," my Master orders me. He takes hold of the chain leads on my bridle and pulls me up. He is in behind me, and quickly slides his hard cock into my dripping pussy.

I grunt like an animal with every deep thrust. My Master pulls back on the leads, pulling my pussy onto his cock. I do my best to help by rocking back into his hips. The tempo of our frenzied fucking increases and my Master is breathing raggedly. I let out a long, low growl. The bit keeps me from swallowing, and I am drooling like a beast. I am an animal, and I don’t care. My Master grunts once and shoots his creamy cum up inside me. I am shivering and panting, like a hard-ridden pony.

"My girl, my good girl," he praises me as he undoes the buckle in the back of my bit. I swallow hard and wipe my lips with the back of my hand. My Master lays back.

"Clean my cock, good girl," he tells me, and hungrily I lick our mingled orgasms off his softening prick. When he is completely clean and no longer sticky in the slightest, he tells me to come up with him. He cuddles me in his arms against his strong, warm chest.

"You did so well, my good girl, my little love," he croons to me, calming his shivering beast-girl. I relax into his body. I can’t speak yet. I have been an animal for too long to come back quickly. He murmurs quietly to me for several minutes. Finally, my senses start to come back to me.

"Who am I?" he asks me quietly.

"My Lord and Master," I whisper into his chest.

"And who are you?" he asks, just as gently.

"Your slave, forever, Master," I whisper fiercely, proudly.

My Master’s hand smoothes out my sweat-soaked hair. "My good girl. I love you."

"I love you, Master."