The day after Isabel and I had visited Diane, I went out with Kim. I took her to Asanebo in Burbank. Kim is pretty down to earth and she was incredibly impressed with the place. In fact, I think she felt a little out of her league and uncomfortable. I was trying to let her know I felt special about her, probably mainly cause Isabel sucks and I was gonna break up with her.
I slept over at her place, and we fucked again in the middle of the night. So that was three times I came. It was also really nice having her in bed with me, just feeling that young, firm body next to mine. We spooned in the morning until I went to work.
I would have told her I was done with Isabel and wanted to be with her, if she knew about Isabel. As it was, I just tried to let her know through my actions that I am ready to go to the next step with her, be exclusive, be like... together.
Who knows whether it worked, whether she is ready to be my girlfriend or whether she wants to keep it casual. Turns out it doesn't matter.
The next day (last Tuesday), after I had been with Kim and was feeling sort of glowy and happy about her, Isabel texts me and tells me to come over at 8pm.
I had decided to break up with her, and was wondering whether to do it over the phone or in person. Well, it is sort bad doing things over the phone, and it also is like... the coward's way out. So I decided to do it in person that night.
Her street was dark when I arrived at 8. I learned a while back never to be late for Isabel's. I parked in my usual spot and went to her door, undressed as usual (she doesn't like me to wear clothes around the house), and rang the bell.
OK, the fact I undressed tells you right away that I wasn't thinking straight. If I was ready to break up with her, what was I doing obeying her kink rules? But I did.
"Isabel, we need to talk a bit about the other night," I started out.
"Yes, I must agree," she said, sitting down on her couch. I sat on the floor in front of her, in my usual position below.
Before I could get up the courage to speak any further, she spoke. "Your behavior last Tuesday night was unacceptable. I think you will agree. You were uncooperative, sulky, and then slammed the door behind you when you left, after I had very kindly allowed you to enter my body. I've given your punishment some thought."
This struck me with fear. What was she going to do? What did she have in mind? Punishment... it is never pleasant with Isabel. I sat quietly, waiting to hear her.
"Sometimes the old methods are best. Come with me."
She stood and started walking toward the hall. I stood behind her and followed. This wasn't going at all as I had planned.
"Um... Bel... I'm sorry, but I--"
"You should be sorry, and I am glad you are accepting your culpability. It will help you accept the punishment as deserved." Isabel said as we rounded the corner and entered her dungeon.
"But, Bel... I have just, well, I have been thinking, and I'd like to discuss--"
"We can discuss whatever you have in mind later."
Isabel was placing cuffs on my wrists, and then clipping them into a hook that descended from the ceiling from a wire through a pulley.
"Wait, Isabel, I don't think we should do this," I was trying to protest but it was difficult for me. Isabel has such a strong hold over me, my pattern of behavior, my habits around her all kick in and before I knew it there I was, hanging by my wrists from the ceiling.
"A dozen strokes will be enough for this infraction."
Now, I have to be honest here. There were times I could have said, clearly, "Isabel, I want to break up. I don't want to do this any more, I want out." It would not have taken much. I could even have said it when I was hanging there, waiting for her to start. But I didn't.
Why not? If I intended to break up with her, why was I obeying her rules from the start? Taking off my clothes before entering, sitting at her feet, not interrupting her and listening patiently? Walking with her, letting her cuff me and hang me from the ceiling?
She has me under her thumb. I wanted out, I wanted to break with her, but... in her presence it is just so hard. She decides, I obey. She demands, I do. It is just the way things are. And I can't stop. I just can't.
So she had a whip. Not a flogger, which isn't nearly as bad, a real single-tail whip. At least six feet, maybe more. Eight or ten feet, maybe. Long enough to wrap all the way around my body.
I heard it before I felt it. It made a sort of hissing noise as it went through the air.
Then the shock of pain, like a red hot brand had curled around my back and chest. I screamed and wriggled where I hung.
Isabel's house is isolated in the canyon, there are no close neighbors. I knew I could scream all I wanted and no one would come to help.
The second lash hit me lower down, across my lower back and around my stomach. I screamed again, feeling not only the nasty stinging, burning of the lash but the force with which it struck, almost like a punch in the kidneys.
I think I stopped screaming by the tenth or eleventh stroke and just cried.
When she was done she let me hang there for a bit, suffering.
"Think about your behavior and your proper place," she said before she left the room. I heard her pouring herself a drink and then the TV went on as I hung and swayed slowly back and forth.
It was only about a half hour, but my body was burning up from the whipping, and I began to feel the cramping in my arms and shoulders from hanging. Thank goodness she came in and let me down. I collapsed on the floor for a moment, and she knelt next to me and took my face in her hands.
"My dearest Marc," she kissed my face. "Your tears are so sweet to me. I like to taste them. I know this is severe, but I think you can handle it. We are moving our relationship to the next level, slowly but surely, and I have faith in you. In your strong commitment to us. It's simply time to increase the discipline, and the consequences, as you adapt and learn how to submit. Hang in there. It's worth it. You know it is."
She kissed me again, gently, affectionately, licking up the salt from my tears, and finally kissing my lips. I said nothing but kissed her back.
She leaned back for a moment, with me looking up at her in devotion. I was grateful to be her slave.
She spit into it. A great glob of saliva, dripping down directly into my open mouth. It was humiliating. I had been reduced to simply lying there, mouth open, accepting her body fluid without question, taking in and swallowing her body waste.
It was humiliating, but it was also arousing. She was depositing some of her body into me. Allowing me to take in something of herself. Sort of like the times I had spurted my body fluid inside her. It was only fair, and it felt a little like having some sort of dirty, disgusting sex.
All idea of breaking up with Isabel had left my mind. Gone. No trace of it, no thought. I simply wanted her to take me in, do with me as she willed, as long as I was hers.
I worshiped her.
The rest of the evening I sat at her feet, naked, and server her. At one point I knelt before her and kissed her feet, feeling privileged that she allowed me to touch her at all.
Before sending me home, Isabel made me ejaculate. She does this sometimes. I lay down on a table, or sit in a chair and she will stroke me until my semen comes shooting out. She doesn't always allow me to actually ejaculate. Sometimes she brings me close, gets me to the point where my cock is bouncing, reading to spurt, and then lets go.
When I got home I examined the wounds from the whipping and applied an ointment to help them heal. It will be a couple of days before I can see Kim. I wonder what she will think. First I spend real quality time with her, expressing my readiness to get more deeply involved with her, and then suddenly I won't even take off my shirt in front of her.
I get so confused at times. The only time I am not confused is when I am at Isabel's feet, or on my back in front of her, or hanging from her ceiling. My life is simple, focused, and dedicated then, and it feels good.
So much for trying to break up with Isabel.