[FICTION] Clean Up Your Mess

[AnalAddict]

I first posted this story on Literotica, but after meeting some delightful people on the getDare forums, I felt this story would be right at home here.

It’s inspired by an actual punishment I’ve gotten, but events got expanded and fictionalized. So far, I have written two parts, but if there are enough excited readers, I’m happy to write more.

Let me know in the comments what you think!

[AnalAddict]

Master is done with my complacency. He’s ordered me upstairs with disappointment in his voice, and I ache at the mere sound. I know the house is a mess. I can make all the excuses I want, but I know I didn’t deliver on my part of our agreement. He is standing in the bedroom, hands behind his broad back and eyes stern.
“Do you know why I called you?”
I try to keep the anxiety from my voice. “Yes, Sir.”
“Clearly, I’ve been remiss in my duties,” he says and I look up from the spot on the floor I focused on.
“No S—” I try to protest.
His jaw tightens and the anger in his eyes flares at my interruption. I lower my gaze again.
“I should have punished you a week ago when the laundry started piling up.”
My asshole clenches at the rough sound of his voice. I know the punishment for not performing my chores. I swear I didn’t ignore the laundry and dishes consciously, but a little voice inside me pleads for his punishment. Needs it.
“No time like the present,” he tells me. “Kneel.”
I drop to my knees without hesitation, eager to hear what I need to do to please him, to make him smile down at me.
“I haven’t paid you enough attention. That changes now. You will clean up the mess today, and I will supervise your chores every day until I’m sure you won’t be slacking off again.”
“Yes, Sir.” I can’t believe that’s the extent of what’s to come, so I wait with my trembling hands behind my back.
“I will make sure you’re in a submissive mindset suitable to your tasks, of course.”
I try hard not to fidget thinking about the ways he puts me in that state of mind.
“Get up and strip,” he orders.
Getting to my feet, I unbutton my jeans and drag the denim down my legs, together with my panties and socks. Once I’ve wrestled out of my T-shirt, I put the pile on the sock drawer next to me.
Only when his eyes darken, do I realize the mistake I made in my haste to obey. It’s too late to fold my clothes neatly now. His hands are unfastening the buckle of his belt, and my legs almost give way.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I w—”
“Hands on the bed, present your ass,” he tells me. “Your first punishment is for adding to the mess you already needed to clean up.”
There is no warm up with his hand this time, only the sharp bite of leather on my ass, over and over again until my backside is on fire with his hard belting. I bite my lip hard so I don’t cry out, knowing I deserved every bit of pain and more. Relishing the slowing of my thoughts until the white-hot skin of my ass is the only thing I can think about. The stress that’s been crashing over me for weeks recedes, and all that matters is the pain, the belt, and the man handling it.
Finally, the onslaught slows and stops and I gulp air inside my lungs, trying not to release the sobs I’ve been holding on to.
“Fold your clothes, then get your ass in position on the bed,” he commands.
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper as I set about correcting my oversight.
When I’m on the bed, ass up in the air, head resting on the mattress and both my hands behind my back, I hear him open the drawer that holds the delights and torture instruments he uses on me. By now, the fire in my ass has subsided to a feverish glow that warms my ass down to the top of my thighs, and I can only hope he won’t add to it anytime soon.
Master returns to the bed and inserts one lubed finger into my asshole before he utters another word. “You’ll remember who this ass belongs to while you do your chores.”
He spends a minute working lube into my clenching hole before he puts a plug against my entrance. As soon as he pushes in the tip, I realize it’s not the small size he usually chooses to loosen me up. Even so, the large plug slides into my trained hole without too much resistance, thanks to the copious amounts of lube Master has applied. My sphincter clenches hard around the base of the plug, the muscle burning with the sudden hard intrusion. Master’s hand comes down hard on my right ass cheek, then on my left, before he pulls out the plug and rams it back in again. I yelp at the repeated intrusion.
“You will fold and put away the laundry for ten minutes.” He pulls the plug out. “Then you’ll get back in position on the bed.” Back in, hard and deep. “I will fuck your ass with the plug, then you’ll go back to your duties.”
He forces the plug into me again, his palm ramming it even deeper than before. “I may add to your punishment if you don’t perform your duties in an efficient way, or if you mess up. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whimper as he continues to fuck my ass hard with the large plug. The burn spreads from my abused hole to my pussy, and I know it’s sopping wet. His low voice alone is enough to turn me on.
The next time he forces the plug in, he taps my ass in a sign to get up.

It has been a long time since I last did household chores naked, let alone with a large plug deep into my ass. Every time I bend over - to fill the washer, to empty out the drier, to pick up a piece of clothing to fold - the plug jostles inside of me, sending a mix of pain and pleasure up my spine. I try not to think about the neighbors who might spot my humiliating predicament and work steadily until his voice announces my time is up.
Stumbling onto the bed, I put my ass in the air and my head down. Master pulls the plug out of my hole. “Five minutes,” he tells me.
Five minutes later, the plug slides in and out of me without resistance, my muscles used to its rough invasion.
“Time for the next size,” Master announces. I don’t even have time to process his words before he shoves another lubed plug in my hole.
I gasp for breath when the cock-like head of the black plug makes it past my sphincter. I know this plug intimately. The first part of it is supposed to be the easy part to take.
This time I can’t hold back my yelp and get two hard swats on my ass for it.
“Off the bed,” he tells me, without even trying to push the thicker part in me yet.
“Thank you, Sir,” I whisper.
“Don’t thank me yet, you’ll take your fucking to the hilt in ten minutes,” he tells me. Trepidation mixes in with the heady daze of pain-pleasure I’m residing in.
It’s that same pain-pleasure that makes my movements more precise and purposeful - designed to please him. The usual grudge I carry while doing menial household tasks while I know there are a thousand things I need to do for work has dissipated. The world is a simple place. Obey and please. Nothing more, nothing less.
The knots in my shoulders release a little, the residual ache left by tension worse than the ache of my ass. That is, until I return to the bed and take my position.
Master adds lube to the second bulb of the plug and pushes, slow but relentless, until my ass stretches wide over the thickest part. Even when it slides in, the ache doesn’t lessen around the thick base of the plug. Seconds later, the second bulb plops out of my ass. I groan at the increased stretch and inwardly curse the toy, designed for continuous reinsertion. The bottom part was never made to stay in but to stretch, and that’s exactly what Master does.
Pushing the plug into my hole, grinding it inside of me with his palm against the base of the plug, he elicits a series of groans and whimpers from my throat. Every time it comes out, he shoves it back in.
I push my hips back into the plug, beyond caring about the difference between pain and pleasure. It all bleeds together in thumping desire in my pussy and ass and my hard nipples that slide against the mattress with every rough thrust.
Master doesn’t comment on my wanton movements but stops the abuse of my clenching hole.
“Up. Do your chores.”

When the plug slides from my loosened asshole five minutes later and thumps on the ground, I can only stare. Master is in the other room, but even so I don’t dare to cheat.
I go back to the bedroom and kneel before the chair he’s seated in.”Sir, I failed in my punishment,” I whisper.
His eyes glide up from his book, studying me with narrowed gaze. “What happened?”
“The plug came out. I’m sorry, Sir.” I swallow hard.
“Retrieve the plug, clean it, and get in position on the bed,” he tells me while putting his book on the desk.
I do as I’m told and lay on the mattress with my gaping ass up, the air cooling the lube at the entrance of my hole. Master doesn’t speak for long moments, allowing the dread and disappointment at myself to build.
“For your honesty, I will not increase the size of the plug despite your mishap.”
Only then do I realize I’ve been holding my breath and I draw air into my lungs.
“As your ass is too loose to hold onto the plug while you do the rest of your chores, I’ll clamp your tits instead until you’re done. We’ll finish your punishment for today with a spanking and fuck as soon as everything is put away.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” I add on before I assume position to get my nipples clamped. When Master takes the ones with weights from the toy box, I realize I may have thanked him too soon. The onset of a grin at the corner of his mouth tells me he knows it too.
At first, the sting isn’t too bad. The weights pull my nipples down, swaying with every movement I make, no matter how careful I try to be. It’s only ten minutes into my clamping that the stings turn into infernal stabs, not helped by the command Master issues from the other room to pull on the clamps. I’m sure my yelp tells him I obeyed. I have to lean my hands against the door jamb and breathe through the pain before I can continue my chores.

Finally, the last clothes have found their place in the closet and the mess in the bathroom has been cleaned up. I return to the bedroom and assume position before the mirror. Master likes for me to watch my pained expression and flattened nipples in the mirror when he removes the clamps. The agony of blood flowing back to my nipples has my knees buckle, and I’m thankful for his broad chest behind my back, his large hands on my upper arms that keep me standing.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against my hair, unleashing a wave of endorphins in my blood. His fingers caress the slope of my shoulders for a few moments until every muscle in my body goes pliant.
“Bed,” Master tells me, and I remember the punishment isn’t over yet. “Flat on your stomach, hands behind your head.”
He lets the leather paddle train over my ass in a short caress, warning me about the impeding impact. The first whack sends a jolt through me that has my tortured nipples rub hard against the mattress. The second follows soon after, and by the tenth I struggle to keep my hands over my head instead of protecting my ass from the blows. I weave my fingers tighter together and try to breathe through the scorching pain. Around twenty, I lose count and just try to endure.
Master is breathing hard by the time he’s done with me. “All fours. Lean back on your heels at the edge of the bed,” he pants.
I have no doubt what hole he’s going to use, and I’m craving it. Craving his possession. Craving the burn that will last for days, reminding me who I belong to, who I obey.
His large cock breaches my asshole, still slick with the lube he fucked into me earlier, and slides deep. Once the hard planes of his stomach touch my burning ass cheeks, he stills, giving me a second to adjust to his intrusion. His hand weaves into my hair and tugs, making me arch my back and allowing him to go even deeper.
“S-Sir,” I whimper.
“Yes?” he asks, still unmoving.
“Please, Sir, please fuck me,” I plead.
He withdraws his full length before ramming it back into the depths of my ass, shocking the breath out of my body. “Since you asked so nicely.” He settles on a brutal pace, driving himself deep to remind me this is punishment. The rough slide makes me whimper with raw desire and stinging pain, fueled into an inferno when he tugs on my bruised nipples and rolls them between the fingers of his free hand. The other one is still buried in my hair.
I submit. To the pain and the near unbearable pleasure. To his complete possession.
After he pushes in as far as he can go and cums deep inside, Master pulls me with him on the bed and folds me in his embrace. His spent cock slips from my ass, and I feel cum and lube dripping out onto the sheets.
“Looks like you have another mess to clean up, baby,” he murmurs against my ear, before kissing my exhausted protest away.

[AnalAddict]

“Now, is there anything you want to tell me?” Master asks, his thumb brushing my bare shoulder.
I bury my face against his bare chest and groan. All I want is to stay buried in his strong arms and forget the world beyond us.
He puts his palm under my chin and makes me look up at him. “Now, my love, or today’s discipline will become punishment.”
My ass is sore, in and out. I’m not even sure I can take my morning spanking or the plug I’ll have to wear today during my chores.
“Yes, Sir. Can I stay—” I swallow. “Can I stay in your arms while I tell you?”
Usually I take my place at his feet, kneeling on a pillow, to talk about our relationship or my worries. I’m not sure I can handle that today.
I see real concern in his eyes when he nods.
“Thank you, Sir.” I try to find the words to tell him how overwhelmed I am — by work, the household, my mom’s illness and the constant visits.
He just holds me and waits until it all comes out in a barrage of words and tears.
“Do you want to take a break from the discipline, so you can focus on everything else?” His question is calm and genuine, but my instant reaction is to burst out in fresh tears.
“No! No, no, I don’t want to take a break.” I gasp for breath. “Sir,” I tack on belatedly.
I try to understand my own reaction, to put it into words for Master. “You— Our relationship, with the discipline, is the one thing that keeps me going. It’s the one place where I don’t need to control anything, don’t need to make any decisions. I need to submit, I need it, I need—”
Any time now Master will have enough of my rambling. I hang my head.
His fingers lift my chin again until I meet his eyes. “I’ve failed you, my love, if you think you can’t tell me any of this without earning my scorn.”
I shake my head. “No, Sir, it’s not like that.”
“Did you or did you not think I was going to be mad after what you just said?”
I did. I felt like I was testing his patience.
He doesn’t push the issue further, instead asking me, “What do you need?”
I refrain from blurting out ’You’, knowing he needs me to be more specific and think, but come up empty. I can only see the problems. “I don’t know.”
“What was the last time you were happy?”
That one’s easy. “Last night.”
“Why?”
“You were in control. All I needed to do was accept my fate and submit. I forgot about everything else. You were happy with me when I got through my punishment.”
He smiles at me, fingers still under my chin so I can’t escape the full force of his gaze. “I’m always happy with you,” he tells me, “but yes, you took your punishment well, and it pleased me.”
“I want more of that. Oblivion. Submission. Belonging to you.”
He nods, deep in thought. “We can do that. We will start the day with your morning spanking to remind you that you belong to me, even when you’re off to work. We’ll end the day with a session where you talk about everything that’s on your mind.”
I’m grateful, but I can’t help the disappointment curling in my stomach. Talking sounds—
“...while I spank that pretty ass, right before I fuck you into the oblivion you need so badly.”
His words sent a bolt of lightning straight to my clit.
“Thank you, Sir,” I stammer.
“The days you visit your Mom, you are exempt from household tasks. I’ll have our cleaning lady come over for more hours.”
My eyes tear up. I scramble off the bed and kneel on the floor. “Sir.”
“Yes, my love?” he asks.
“Can I have my spanking, please?” My limbs are quivering, needing the release of tension only Master can give me.
“You know what to do.”

I retrieve the wooden brush from the drawer and present it to him, on my knees, palms held out in offering.
“Good girl,” he tells me, and my entire body shivers with his approval.
“Take your position.”
I get over his knee and put my hands behind my back. His left hand restrains them without force, only serving as a reminder of his power over me. His right hand caresses my ass, taps on a particularly painful bruise from last night’s spanking. The little jolt fuels the fire roaring inside me.
The first whack of his hand has me gasp for air. The next ones are delivered with the medium force he uses on me every morning, and still they have more impact now that I’m this primed, ready to submit. My ass burns with his ownership.
After a few minutes, he picks up the brush and places it against my left ass cheek. “Count them,” he orders.
By the time I reach twenty for the second time, I’m sobbing with relief. The pain is worse than usual, so much worse, but I needed this. So badly.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Master pulls me in his lap and hugs me close, like he does every morning and I hold on, hard.
Then he kisses me, holding my face still in the perfect angle to possess my mouth. The fire flares high, higher.
I whimper when he lets go. Master studies my naked body for a moment and smiles at me when I clench my fists by my side instead of covering myself.
“Bed,” he orders. “On your back.”
Not part of our morning routine, but I’m not about to complain.
He strips off the boxers he sleeps in and moves over me, his broad chest and hard-angled face taking up my entire vision. One hand runs from my bare foot to the inside of my thigh, before he pushes my leg back towards my chest and repeats the process on my other leg. I’m splayed wide open, trembling with need.
His cock brushes my clit, and I nearly come. A moment later, he enters me in one hard thrust. He possesses me, takes everything I have to give and more, until I’m mindless with bliss and don’t know if I’m having one deliciously long, drawn-out orgasm or a dozen small ones following each other in rapid succession.
Master comes deep inside me, marking me once more as his.
Once we’ve recovered, he taps my burning ass. “I believe you were due a reminder of your submission during your chores,” he says.
Between my burning ass and the cum dripping between my legs, I have plenty of reminders, but I don’t mind one more. I take my position — ass up, head on the mattress, and pull my ass cheeks apart as he commands.
At least he doesn’t use the black plug, even though it’s by no means the smallest plug we own that he pushes inside of me after lubing my hole.
When I stand, feeling full and fulfilled in so many ways, he smiles at me and tells me, “Good girl.”
I think maybe I’ll be alright after all, no matter what the world throws at me.

[bluedieblub]

I hadn't found this story yet, it's delightfull! I can definitely see some or you poking through, enjoying the abuse of your ass as well as the slight trepidation of what's to come. I matches up remarkably well with your chore task, so you are in for a lot of fun when you get around to that