It was the second morning after I'd crossed 180. My journal lay on her nightstand closed but not forgotten. I'd written something risky in it the night before. Something that made my stomach turn when I clicked the pen closed.
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She hadn't mentioned it yesterday. But today… I could feel it. Something had shifted.
She sat on the couch, sipping her coffee. I was kneeling by her side, plug already in, naked, collared, silent. The way she liked me lately. The way I liked myself lately.
She reached over without looking, picked up the journal and flipped to the most recent entry.
I lowered my eyes. My heart thumped.
She read slowly. Patiently. Then, without any change in expression, she read it aloud:
"Before the cage, I used to cum to videos of women dominating men. One of the videos showed a woman slapping the guy while he begged to cum. I came before the video even ended. I hated how fast I came. I hated how much I liked it.
When you threatened to start slapping me the other day for forgetting my place, I immediately remembered that video and it aroused me. You obviously noticed."
She paused. I felt her eyes on me before I dared to look up.
"So," she said gently, "you've been broken longer than I thought."
My mouth went dry.
"If I'd known this part of you already existed," she continued, sipping again, "I would've taken a different path. Sped things up. Turned the screws earlier."
I blushed so hard my ears burned. She wasn't angry. She sounded almost… disappointed that I hadn't confessed sooner.
"You poor thing," she said, smiling now. "You've been wired for this the whole time, haven't you?"
I couldn't speak. She didn't expect me to.
She set the journal down and reached for my chin, lifting my face toward hers.
"I'm not going to slap you just yet," she said softly. "Not because I don't want to."
She let that hang in the air.
"I want you squirming with the anticipation of it. I want you remembering that video. Wondering when your Mistress will finally treat you the way you so obviously want to be treated."
I swallowed. My cock twitched in its cage.
"See?" she said lightly, brushing a finger along my jaw. "Already hard. Such a horny slut you are."
Later that evening, she gave the signal.
I had reached 190. Just over a month of service, strain, denial. And now I was kneeling by the bed again, waiting.
She looked down at me, amused. "Well earned."
I flushed.
She crooked a finger. "Up here, pet."
I climbed up onto the bed and positioned myself as she liked. I expected the handjob. Although I wanted to be inside her but didn't want to annoy her begging for that. But I hadn't expected what came next.
"I have a little surprise for you," she whispered.
She unlocked the cage slowly, deliberately and wrapped her hand around my already hard cock with practiced ease. Her strokes were gentle. Controlled. Cruel in their precision.
I moaned softly into her neck, already teetering. She always knew just what rhythm would break me.
And then, just as my hips twitched forward, she slapped me.
Not hard. Not angry. But sharp. Right across my cheek.
My eyes flew open. My cock pulsed.
Another stroke. I whimpered.
She leaned in, breath warm at my ear.
"You like that?"
I couldn't answer.
She slapped me again, this time while I was cumming.
It hit like lightening.
I came in fifteen seconds.
I groaned, my whole body trembling, twitching in her hand while my orgasm flooded out of me faster than I could understand. I was breathless. Broken. Blushing.
She held me there, stroking me gently as the last pulses faded. Not rushing me. Letting me collapse fully into the moment.
Then she leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
"Fifteen seconds," she murmured, brushing my hair back. "My sweet little pet… that's a new record."
I flushed deeper, hiding my face against her thigh. I didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed. She didn't let me decide.
Her fingers found my chin, lifting it softly.
"You came so fast… just from a couple little slaps." Her voice was velvet now. Delighted.
She smirked, then gently patted my still-twitching cock.
"My little prejac," she said softly. "Using your shame as fuel. Turning your skill into your advantage."
I whimpered against her and she kissed my cheek just beneath where she'd slapped me.
"That means just one-fifty for next time," she added, clearly amused. "Though honestly…"
She trailed a finger down my chest, thoughtful.
“…at this rate, I might have to start tweaking the system a little. Wouldn't want you getting too quick release cycles. You could end up earning releases too quickly for my liking, the way you're going."
Her tone was teasing but her eyes said she might not be joking.
I swallowed.
She didn't send me away right away. She let me linger. Held my head in her lap while my breathing slowed.
When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft. Measured.
"I think I deserve a little gratitude," she said, tilting her head. "After all… I did just bring one of your fantasies to life. Don't you think?"
I nodded, still trembling. Still reeling. And not from the orgasm but from her.
I rose slowly, knelt before her and pressed my lips to her feet with reverence. Not just obedience but devotion. Grateful. Humbled.
She let me linger there.
Then her hand came down, warm and gentle, stroking my hair.
"There's my good boy," she murmured.
"I'm enjoying the way your face looks after a slap… I might want to keep you like this a little longer tonight."
She cupped my chin again, turning it slightly in her hand like she was admiring her own work. Her eyes lingered soft, pleased, possessive.
"Stay right there," she whispered. "Let me enjoy what I've made."
From the touch of her hands. The sound of her voice. The mark she'd left on something far deeper than my skin.
And I already knew I'd be dreaming of it. Craving it. Until she gave it again.
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