Chapter VII: A Pleasurable Punishment

Mr. Masen’s disapproval is clear. As soon as I told him my address, his face contorted in disgust. I could tell that he wanted to reprimand me but only because he does not fully understand my struggle. It is clear that Mr. Masen is unfamiliar with the life I lead. As we drove deep into the city, past the expensive modern homes and into the part of town that has a staple hooker at every corner; Mr. Masen began to tense beside me.

“You live out here,” he has the gull to ask.

I couldn’t help but become upset. This is truly the best I can do. I ignored his comment and continued to stare out the window. I gaze out at homeless men seeking shelter, women seeking a john for the night, and junkies hurrying about toward their next fix. I couldn’t help but think how easily I could be one of those people. If my mother hadn’t put a good head on my shoulders I would have been one of them. I am sure of it.

That was what made me so upset. How could this man judge me? I would have to be daft to think my life was perfect, but it not as bad as he imagines it. I have a roof over my head and food in my belly. Sure my job is horrid at times, but without it I would be living in a shelter fighting for a warm cot every night.

When Mr. Masen pulled in front of my complex, I plead with him to stay in his car. Mr. Masen ignored my wishes and got out of the car with a look of scorn. Compared to his home I realize my quaint apartment must appear to him as quite the dump. If I was willing to take my clothes off more often, I am sure I could afford better. But I can’t do that. Not yet.

“Home sweet home,” I quietly tease him as soon as we arrive.

“Isabella this is ridiculous. How could a young female possibly stay here? It cannot be safe.”

I’m annoyed by his tone and take off in the direction of my apartment. I hear his footsteps behind me; he is moving at a relaxed pace as if to take in the scenery. My apartment is on the first floor of the complex, back by the dumpsters. At night it is eerie, but I never stay outside for long. I riffle through my bag to produce my keys and with shaky hands I unlock my front door. I’ve never felt embarrassed about my living situation until now. No one has ever been in my apartment. I have no family or friends to invite over. Mr. Masen is the first.

I turn on the lights and step aside for Mr. Masen to enter. I can tell he is trying very hard to keep his displeasure at bay. It is obvious that he finds my small apartment repulsive. It is not dirty, but it is messy. My clothes are thrown about and my floors are covered with stacks of my favorite novels, my one escape.

“This apartment is filthy Isabella,” Mr. Masen says in a low violent tone as he breathes down my neck. His hot breath sends a shiver down my spine. “I am very disappointed Isabella.”

My cheeks flush as my entire body grows warm. “I’m sorry to displease you sir,” I say quietly, trying to suppress the growing smile on my face.

I know what he is doing. I’ve decided that I quite like displeasing Mr. Masen. If he is going to do what I hope he will, I will most definitely like it very much.

With a cool look, Mr. Masen moves past me to sit on the couch. He gestures for me to come toward him and I can’t help but trimmer with excitement. He smirks at me, as if he can read my thoughts and gestures for me to lie across his lap. I position myself so my ass is in the air waiting for his heavy hand.

“Isabella I’m going to give you five spankings and then you are going to straighten up this apartment like a good girl. Do you understand me?”

I can barely contain my excitement as I nod my head. As soon as Mr. Masen brings his hand down, firmly on my ass, I let out a small squeal and grow instantly wet. I’m still amazed that I am aroused by such a thing. His hand comes down four more times and by the time he is finished I am bathing in euphoria.

“You ready to clean my sweet girl?”

Part of me cannot believe that I am letting this strange man order me around. But I’m delighted by it. In a strange way I feel…cared for. I will soon be his contractual submissive and I know I will feel the weight of the world taken off of my shoulders.

“Of course sir,” I smile shyly.

“You’re going to clean this apartment and then I am going to fuck you on the floor.”

I stifle a gasp and keep my eyes on the ground. Mr. Masen helps me off of his lap and into an upright position. My legs are shaky as I begin to clean. I keep my thighs pressed tightly together to relieve the tension building between my legs. It only made me more wet knowing that Mr. Masen was watching my every move. Seeing me clean was apparently pleasing to him.

“Take off your coat,” he orders from the couch.

My breath hitches at his command. I’m naked underneath and the thought of cleaning my apartment in the nude is oddly erotic. I slip out of my coat and let it drop to the floor, smiling at the sensation of my nipples puckering in the cold air. I finish my cleaning as Mr. Masen watches me comfortably from the couch. As I am picking up my last item of clothing, I feel him approach me, stopping to stand right behind me as I bend over to pick up a shirt.

“See, was that so hard Isabella,” Mr. Masen mocks as his fingers trail up and down my wet folds.

“No sir,” I moan as he slips one finger inside of me.

“That’s it, get my fingers wet like a good girl Isabella.” Mr. Masen is pleased, and so am I.

He pumps his fingers in me a few more times until I am dripping down my thighs.

“Get on your knees Isabella,” he whispers into my ear. “Get on your knees and put your palms on the ground.”

I immediately drop to my knees and follow his instructions. He falls to his knees behind me and strokes me with his warm fingers. Right before I reach an orgasm he pulls his fingers away. I the sound of his fly being unzipped and the tear of a foil packet. Soon his hands are back on me and I am intoxicated with his scent.

“Are you ready for me Isabella,” he chuckles darkly. He does not wait for an answer. “You better be ready for me baby because you’re going to have to stay still and take it like a good girl.”

Mr. Masen is inside me with one harsh thrust and begins an unforgiving pace, fucking me on the relentlessly on the hardwood floor. Three orgasms later, Mr. Masen is gone and I am left with my own thoughts. On Monday I will sign a contract; on Monday I will be his.

The sun will soon rise and I find that I am not the least bit tired. Mr. Masen has given me a great deal to think about. I decide to take a long bath with the hope to relax and meditate on my future with a clear mind. It is nice to have a moment of clarity now that I am no longer under the influence of Mr. Masen’s presence. But I find that I am happy with my decision. I know that I need this.

Before I take a couple of sleeping pills with the hopes of a night of restful sleep, I check my phone to see two missed calls and a voice mail. They are from hours ago. I recognize the number and suddenly feel nauseous. Oh God no!