Consequence

Something disturbed my sleep - I looked around in the dark.  But before I even saw him, Master's hands took me, one grabbing my hair and the other clamped firmly over my mouth.  Uh-oh.  There was no rush of excitement or fear - just the awareness that I had pissed him off.  And whatever he was about to do, it wasn't going to be very comfortable.

He walked me outside, leading me by my hair, pushing me ahead of him, naked in the cool breeze.  He chose a corner of the garden covered in dirt and leaves, and spoke:  "On your back."  I laid down slowly, and waited.

His piss was warm in the cool air, and smelled strong.  He pissed on my body, my legs, my cunt, my tits, and my face.  I choked a little as he sent some down my throat and it splashed into my eye and nose.  He made sure to wet my hair.  He finished, and I waited for what was next.

But all he did was look down at me for a moment.  Then he uttered "I suggest you find a spot out of the wind," turned, and walked into the house.  And closed the door.  There was no question in my mind it would be locked.

Almost since immediately after we met, Master has claimed his right to me at any time, by having a key to my house.  So when I moved last weekend, one of the first things I made sure to do was to have a key cut for him, and deliver it so that he had access to his property.  But I neglected something - thinking I wasn't going to use it, I didn't think it necessary to cut a key for the security door.  So of course, the following night, when Master came to use his slut and found himself locked out, he was not pleased.  A stupid oversight on my part.  And now here I was, locked out... naked, wet, dirty, and stinking of piss.  Perfectly fitting.

In the past, being punished for my mistakes was devastating to me.  I have blogged before about some of these times, and how they would sicken me with grief and regret.  My Master's approval was, and still is, of paramount importance to me - his disapproval leaves me feeling shamed.  But something has changed in more recent times, and I think, been cemented with my collaring - I am less afraid.  My greatest fear since I became his property, has been his rejection.  In the early days, it seemed always imminent, looming just beyond the next mistake - his realisation that I was not worthy of his attention or time.  Each time I failed him, it felt like the end - I would be discarded now, as I should be.  I was worthless to him... nothing.

But now?  Somehow over time I have come to trust that, if my Master has kept me this long, he must see some worth in me.  If he keeps using me, he must take pleasure from me.  If he spends time with me, he must like me.  If he reassures me, he must care about me.  And most of all, if he has collared me, he truly intends to keep possession of me.

I reflected on this change, standing there in the dark, realising that I was not panicking, expecting disposal, and grieving for how much loss it would be to be freed.  Instead, I was calm, and simply accepting.  This was what Master was doing to me, as was his right.  That's all there was to it.  It did not mean I would be thrown away, it simply meant I was getting what I thoroughly deserved.  I thought about this, as I took a sheet off the washing line, wrapped it around myself, and huddled up for the night.

I was surprised that he didn't leave me there all night, though.  He came out with a bowl and used it to wash me down with cold water, splashing it over me until I was shivering.  Then he took my asshole, as he does, with no preparation, with no lube - just opening my tight, dry hole and forcing in his cock.  Sometimes the pain makes me scream, but this night I held it in, conscious of the neighbours so close by.  He used my hole, fucking it as his own, with me squirming under him on the pavement, alternating between pain and pleasure.  And after he had filled it with his cum, I was allowed back inside.

I slept in my bed last night, smelling of sweat, cum, shit, and the stench of piss still in my hair.