Before joining the Order, I knew next to nothing about sex. I had barely thought of it. Now, I go to sleep at night thinking about nothing else, excitedly imagining what and who is in line for me next, imagining the incredible new physical sensations I’m going to experience.
Yesterday they told me I needed to be punished and I was instantly heartbroken. I’ve always tried to behave impeccably. In fact, if anything, the masters commented on my obedience and diligence.
I was so nervous when I entered the dark room. Master Cox sat in a large velvet ceremonial chair with Master Fantana beside him. My heart sank instantly. I had never spoken to any of them before.
The truth is, I was never brave enough to start a conversation because I knew I would be tongue-tied. They are so cute, soft and affable. I’ve driven myself crazy thinking about them on many, many occasions. And yet, the first time I interact with them, I’m in trouble.
Cox told me to come in and I stood in front of him shaking like a leaf. He told Master Fantana to undress me, which was as humiliating as anything could have felt. He was pretty straightforward about things, which only made it that much worse.
He quickly removed my tie and simply threw it on the floor. I was confused. We are taught to be mindful of the clothes we wear. Our pants and shirts must always be pressed, and on occasions when I’ve undressed in front of masters before, I’ve always been encouraged to fold my clothes carefully. However, there he was just playing on the dusty floor.
I tried not to look at Fantana. I knew that if I looked into those beautiful eyes for more than a second, I would start to blush and my punishment would no doubt be more severe. It was hard not to get aroused, though, and I could feel my cock hardening in my pants.
Fantana knelt in front of me to take off her shoes, carefully undoing the laces in an almost subservient way. In that moment, it occurred to me that Master Cox was definitely the best dog in the room. There must be some sort of hierarchy, even among the masters, which means that Fantana still has to obey her superiors. And, of course, the more I thought about Fantana, possibly serving men like Master Cox, the harder my cock got. By the time he pulled my pants down, I was rock hard.
He stood behind me, allowing his large, masculine hands to rub up and down my body that soon tingled. If that was a punishment, I would take it every day of the week!
He used oils from a metal dispenser. They smelled very churchy and were cold enough to make me shiver as he started squirting all over my chest. I liked the feel of Fantana rubbing the oils into my skin. His hands slid quickly all over my body and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. But the pleasure was short-lived.
Cox ordered Fantana to reveal the gurney and, moments later, pulled a large black cloth from a long, low table. Because it was so dark in the room, it took a moment for my eyes to focus on what was pinned to the table, but when I realized what was happening, my blood started to run cold…
The table was covered with what can only be described as penis-shaped objects. They were stuck to the surface and pointing up and I immediately understood the nature of my punishment. Cox described them as “pegs,” and he told me to prepare the smallest one by rubbing oils into it. I knew I would be expected to sit down, so I used as much oil as I could squirt onto my hand.
