She slumped against the back seat of the car, sweat staining her skimpy tee-shirt, drool from her mouth packing dropping like fine fish line down her chest. I slapped one of the soft mounds that was the gauze packing over her newly pierced nipple and she arched her back – my buddy at the piercing and tattoo shop had bought the line about this being her idea and not to worry about the gag and ropes, just do her tits and her labia and there’s an extra 100 for him.

And it had been her idea, sweet little Mattie…

…”Do you like it, sweetie?” Mattie’s exquisite green eyes burned at me as I held up the little packet of tickets, nicely printed and very professional looking.

“You know,” I said, thumbing my way through the pack of tickets, “This is dangerous stuff.” I read one of the tickets. “’One free back massage while Mattie is naked as the day she was born (well, she’s got her boobies now)’.” I grinned up at her over the birthday cake. “If your mom ever got her hands on this, then – “ I thumbed back to a ticket I had just seen and turned it towards her, “then someone may use this ‘One free spanking of Mattie’s bare butt – but not too hard!’ card.”

Mattie giggled. “Oh don’t worry – mom got her licks in a lot when I was a little girl.” She batted her eyes. “In fact, I was a very, very bad little girl growing up.”

I feigned indifference. What I really wanted to do right at that moment was to take my little Mattie into the bedroom and really consummate my birthday. But this wasn’t the moment. In fact, I’d just thumbed to a ticket that struck my fancy.

“What’s this, now? ‘One free Mattie slave – for a day (?)’? Is there a printing error on this one, dearest? You’ve put a question mark after the length of Mattie’s slavery.” I showed her the ticket but her eyes never left mine.

“Nope. You can’t use that ticket until we have a little talk.” Color spread across her cheeks and she bent to the task of cutting the cake.

A little talk. I knew right then that I’d been right about my Mattie. We’d have that talk, she could be sure about that…

…”You put up quite a struggle there, slave,” I growled, tucking the blanket down over her sprawled form and then using both back seat seatbelts to buckle her down. “I was afraid Mark was going to nick your little clitty. That would have been a bitch for you – I’ve heard that once a clitty is pierced there’s no more orgasms. Something about ruining the nerves.” I reached down and rubbed the gauze lump between her legs, relishing the feeble bucking she made against the seatbelts. Hell, she was too tied up to offer much resistance. Tied for a week and she still tried to get free. Or maybe it was just panic taking over…

…”You know, I’ve used up all those tickets you gave me for my birthday last summer. The ‘One free blowjob (no teeth marks!) by Mattie in the back seat’ was the last one.”

She stirred beside me and I felt her body tense under the down comforter. She lay on her side, back to me - I had been working my dick into a second hard-on between her ass-cheeks, my right hand helping the process by reaching around her and kneading her wonderful breasts.

“Ummm,” she started and then cleared her throat. “We still have to have that talk. Remember?”

I found one of her nipples – it was hard already – and rolled it between my fingertips. She sighed heavily and I knew she was getting turned on. “Mattie, dear, none of the other tickets required a talk before I used them.”

“I know,” she whispered. I felt her press her ass into my dick. I continued to roll her nipple, wondering if I could get her off just by playing with her and talking about that mysterious ticket.

“So what is it about that ticket that requires a talk?” Before she could answer, I pressed my dick into the swell of her ass and slid closer to her so I could whisper in her ear. “It’s that question mark, isn’t it, Mattie?”

She drew in breath sharply as I found her other nipple, the one almost pressed into the bed.

“Not so much that Mattie will be my slave.” She moaned as I whispered the last word in her ear. “No. I think that question mark means that Mattie could be my slave for a long, long time.” She bucked her ass back into my dick and if I could have seen her face I would have seen that intense, almost maniacal look Mattie gets when she’s working on an orgasm.

I threw back the comforter and rolled Mattie onto her stomach. She fought a little until I got both her hands behind her and then gently settled in on top of her, my knees taking my weight but her arms trapped between her back and my chest. My lips found her neck and I softly nuzzled then bit then kissed. She squirmed beneath me, her pelvis grinding against the bed mattress and then rose her ass up, inviting me to take her from behind. I adjusted, keeping her arms locked behind her, then found her pussy and slammed home what we both wanted. She tensed just as I started and by the time I was finished I was sure she’d had one long, intense orgasm. We collapsed in a heap and Mattie spent the night snuggled against me, pressed into me, cooing until she dropped off to sleep…

…”Not a sound,” I told her as I loosely lay the blanket over her head. She glared up at me for the second it took to cover her face. I’d wanted to have her septum pierced and ringed but Mattie had fought Mark so much that I’d called it off. There really wasn’t a good way to keep her head locked tight – at least Mark didn’t have any equipment to do that. I did. The thought that I would do her nose occurred to me and I filed that back for future consideration.

I eased out into the midnight traffic and headed for home. Mattie needed out of her traveling ropes and into her normal harness. I was afraid she’d abrade her nipple rings with all the struggling she was doing. Her ass would be striped for weeks after this one – I thought she was trained better but apparently not. As the streetlights flared and then receded across the windshield of the car I smiled – I loved training little Mattie…

…”It’s sort of about being bad and paying for it.” Mattie took a sip of coffee, her cheeks a fiery red. She wouldn’t make eye contact, preferring to look out the patio windows at the orange and brown leaves covering the lawn.

I reached across the table and took her hand. Her eyes fluttered in my direction but eventually wound up staring down at my hand. I felt her fingers trembling. “Mattie, put the coffee cup down.”

She did look at me then, but put the cup down on the table. I grasped her hand around her wrist and gently directed her out of her seat. “If this is the talk that pertains to the ticket – the last ticket – then I would prefer you to kneel before me.”

An embarrassed smile crossed her face and she resisted me. I held her wrist firmly. In a quiet, hard tone I said, “Mattie, I’ll rip that last ticket in two unless you kneel before me right now. No questions asked, we’re still boyfriend/girlfriend. But what that ticket stands for will never again come up in our relationship.” I looked hard in her eyes, relishing the fear and desire there. “Not unless you kneel before me now.”

Slowly, awkwardly, Mattie settled into a kneeling position at my feet. I let go of her hand and she immediately lay her hands in her lap, eyes staring at the floor, cheeks flushed. I let her get comfortable, then reached out and lifted her chin so she could look me in the face.

“Mattie,” I whispered, “It’s still just me and you. Remember that. Even when you’re my slave.” Her breath caught and I continued. “Even then, it’s still just me and you. Understand?”

She nodded.

I sat back and took a sip of coffee. “Now, let’s have our talk…”

…I pulled into the driveway and thumbed the remote for the garage door. Mattie had survived her little trip home without so much as a grunt. I knew she was hurting – Mark had told me it would hurt for a while, especially the nipple piercings. But I also knew Mattie and I wondered that she hadn’t had a low level orgasm already, bound and gagged and strapped into the back seat of the car, ringed like a proper slave.

I left her in the car for a while. A slave should never feel like she’s her Master’s first concern all the time. So I went in, plopped down in front of the TV and had a few beers, all the while, Mattie lay under a blanket in the car in the garage. It was winter, after all, and I knew that it wasn’t long before the car had cooled off. During commercials, I read the instructions Mark had given me for taking care of the piercings Mattie already had, as well as the steps I would need to follow to do her nose. I glanced at the clock then at the second beer in my hand – the nose ring would have to wait until tomorrow when I was more awake and sharper. I lived to hurt Mattie, but not like that. That wonderful woman, my slave, was the center of my world…

…”When I was little, at school, a bunch of the girls played house at recess. Someone played the mom and the dad and the kids. I played the maid. Whenever I could, I would drop stuff, get everyone angry at me. At first they just said they would fire me but I got them to punish me instead. Nothing really bad – just, like, told to stand in the corner. But I knew I was being punished and they knew they were punishing me.” Mattie glanced everywhere when she talked – out the patio doors, down at the floor, at her hands in her lap. Then, as she finished, she looked back at me and I nodded, accepting her.

“When I got older and began fantasizing, I was always a bad girl. I needed to be punished. I acted up to get a spanking from my mother – my father stopped spanking me as I got older. But my mother spanked me every time I disobeyed or was naughty. I fought her, kicked, screamed.” She was blushing furiously now and she played with her hands in her lap.

“Then she stopped. I think she knew that I liked it, even when I cried. But by then my fantasies were changing. I fantasized about being captured and turned into a slave. The more I fought my captors the more they hurt me. And I deserved it. I deserved it all.” Her eyes darted past mine then focused on the floor. “I deserved to be a slave,” she whispered…

…I pulled the blanket back off her and the first thing I saw in the dark shadows of the back seat were her furious eyes boring into me. I slapped her cheek lightly to make a point and she turned her glare downwards, anywhere but back at me. She knew there would be punishments coming for her acting up at the tattoo parlor. But there were only so many punishments even she could take. She apparently didn’t want to add a punishment for disrespect to her plate tonight. Without a word I buckled her heavy collar around her neck, then went about the job of getting the seatbelts off her. When she could move, I scooped her out of the back seat and stood her on her slutty high-heels. Her ankles were still bound with rope and she leaned against me to steady herself grunting in pain as her new nipple piercings grazed my chest. I let her stand there, bound at ankles, knees, elbows and wrists, ball-gagged, collared, while I shut the door and pulled her leash off the rack on the wall. I rarely required her to go with her collar in public and never collared and leashed. Tonight was an exception, her going out bound at the ankles, but she had fought long and hard and I wasn’t about to take another shot to the ribs. Mark had a back door, away from casual eyes, and our appointment had been long after closing. So Mattie came bound tightly. Still, the collar and leash was only for home.

I clipped her leash onto her collar and for just a moment debated not untying her ankles, forcing her to hop inside, her tits and pussy hurting with each hop. But I didn’t want her to fall over and really hurt herself so I loosened the ropes at her ankles and she followed me inside, hobbled…

…”It isn’t right, and that’s part of it. It isn’t right that a good girl should be tied up. It isn’t right that a good girl should be spanked,” Mattie paused, then continued, “or whipped, or hurt at all. It isn’t right that a good girl should be forced to be a slave to her man.” She looked up at me, unsure. “Right?”

I shrugged my shoulders and took another sip of coffee. We both knew it didn’t matter whether it was right or wrong – she knelt before me, passively telling me her darkest secrets and we both knew that we were never going back to the way things had been. She would get used to kneeling.

“I was supposed to be nice, proper, a good girl, and all I ever thought about was being a slutty slave, fighting, kicking, screaming, until I was tied down and punished and made to submit. Taken. Broken…”

…I tethered Mattie to her ring next to the bed and sat her down. Her t-shirt was soaked with sweat and drool. She’d come to Mark bound with rope at her elbows and wrists, with ropes above and below her breasts. I’d clipped away little circles around her nipples so Mark could get at them to pierce them and he’d threaded her nipple rings and gauzed them up. She was pissed about her t-shirt – I’d made sure it was her favorite. To do her labia, I’d just made sure she didn’t wear panties under her tight leather mini.

“Kick me and I’ll take every layer of skin off your back,” I told her and meant it. She snorted through her gag but I knew she wouldn’t try. I got down on my knees and undid her stiletto boots, pulling first one then the other off her feet. Then, before she knew what I was doing, I pulled her ankles together and re-tied them with rope. I pushed her back on the bed and she lay passively on her back, staring up at me…

…Her eyes borrowed into the floor and the pause turned into a charged silence, one I milked. Finally I spoke, “What does the question mark mean?”

She laughed nervously. “Ummm. I made the ticket book up at work. All of it after hours. I spent most of my day thinking about what I would put on the ticket that night and I was always in a state of being turned on. All the tickets in the book were nothing compared to the last ticket.” She looked up at me, searching my face. “They all led to that last ticket. I almost didn’t print it. The others were slutty enough. I could definitely be a bad girl while I was doing all those other things. And the fact that you could cash any of those tickets in at any time – telling me that I had to be a bad girl for you-” Color again flared in her cheeks and she looked away, out the patio doors. “It was close. But not close enough. I could still be a good girl with all the other tickets in that book – just a good girl acting a little slutty, a little naughty. But the last ticket. That’s for real. The question mark is up to you…”

…I slipped next to her, one hand firmly on her tummy, keeping her in place, the other softly running my fingers over her nipple packing. She moaned and squirmed a little – she could have fought a lot more but that would have earned her real pain, with my hand on her tender nipples. Slowly, I peeled away the bandages and gauze over each nipple and admired my slave’s rings. Her nipples were swollen and little cakes of dried blood sat at the openings of her pieced flesh. I looked into her eyes and saw that intense, animal look, then I brushed a finger across one tortured nipple. She arched her back and moaned and the intense look deepened…

…”You understand, Mattie, what that question mark means to me?”

She shuddered from her place, kneeling at my feet on the kitchen linoleum.

“That once I cash in that last ticket, there’s no going back?”

She looked up. “You have to understand that I will fight you. That I will try to escape, that I will never willingly submit-“

“-until you are broken.” I finished for her.

Her breath caught and her eyes seemed to grow larger. Then she nodded.

“Say it,” I told her.

“I will not be your willing slave until you have broken me,” she whispered…

…I lifted her head and undid the buckle on the big ball gag wedged between her teeth. She spat it out and twisted until her lips slammed against mine, her tongue burying itself deep inside my mouth. I kissed her back just as hard, my free hand slipping down to the gauze bulge at the mouth of her pussy. She moaned in pain, her breath exhaling into my mouth as I roughly rubbed her wounded pussy flesh …

…I reached down and undid the cloth bathrobe belt at her waist. Her robe fell away and she defiantly tried to close it. I grabbed her wrists, lifting her up onto her feet and wrapping my arms around her until her hands were caught behind her. Her face was only inches from mine but when I tried to kiss her, she pointedly turned her head. I spun her around and forced her stomach onto the kitchen table. Yanking her bathrobe belt through the loops I quickly and tightly bound her hands behind her with the terry-cloth belt. She was breathing hard as I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back up to stand before me. Her robe hung loosely about her shoulders but there was nothing she could do to stop me from cupping a naked breast.

“This is your last chance, Mattie. I’m cashing in the ticket. The question mark means forever.”

She looked up at me, a slight smile turning her lips, and nodded…

…I broke the kiss only after I was sure she had been taken to the brink of a thunderous orgasm and then left hanging. She tried to follow my lips, tried to rise up off the bed and slam her pelvis into my hand. But I pushed her back. She glared at me.

“Finish it!”

“Beg first, slave.”

She shook her sweat plastered head.

“Beg or I’ll put you in your cage still tied up. You won’t be able to come and eventually your rings will hurt in a bad way.” I felt a smirk crossing my face. “Beg me to hurt you until you come, Mattie.”

Again, she shook her head, eyes telling me that she was just testing me.

“Ok,” I got up, pulling her bound legs off the bed. “I’m going to make you hop to your cage. In the morning, I’m going to spank you an extra thirty minutes, then teach you how to take care of your rings.” I began to slide her off the bed but she pulled her legs away from me.

“Please.”

“Please, what?”

She glared over at me and I reached for her legs again. “Please hurt me. Please hurt me and help me come.”

I smiled and crawled on top of her.

Later, after she’d given me one of the best blowjobs of my life, we lay snuggled together under the comforter. Her sleeping chain was loosely locked to her collar, but she was otherwise unfettered. She nestled in the crook of my arm and eventually fell asleep leaving me to stare at the ceiling. She’d never be entirely broken – I wasn’t meant to break her. No one was.

I rolled over, closing my eyes, images of clipping my Mattie’s nose ring to a leash the last thing I remember before slipping into sleep.