The game was rough. We were neck in neck until the last inning when the other team got ahead by two points. We had one last chance to come back. There were two outs when I hit the ball. The runner on second made it home and I made it to first easily. The ball was thrown home in a vain attempt to get the runner out and I saw my chance to make it to second. I took off. The catcher was more alert than I gave her credit for… she threw the ball to second. I got stuck in that ridiculous pickle, where the runner never wins. They did finally get me out - -the third and final out. We lost the game by one. Yes, I blamed myself. Why do I always have to push so hard?

I sat on the side of the dugout sulking while the teams congratulated each other. The grass was wet and seeping through my shorts, but I didn't care. I could see Manny in the distance, talking to the players. He was smiling that brilliant white smile. He seemed in fairly good spirits, but I knew he must be feeling a high level of frustration. Our team had come so far, this game would have put us ahead of the rest. He said his goodbyes and glanced my way. A chill went through me at his stare. He turned around and cleaned up the equipment in the dugout. I knew he was ignoring me on purpose, that this was the beginning of a punishment. I wasn't sure exactly what I was being punished for - -being responsible for losing the game, not listening to the coach, or being such a poor sport.

Manny and I have only been 'seeing' each other for a few months. We've worked and played softball together for over a year, but did not pursue the obvious attraction between us until one drunken night (celebrating for a game we won). The sex was amazing right from the start. He was strong and aggressive in his pursuit yet always put my pleasure first. He is rough when necessary and tender when required. Though we are opposite in every way, the electricity is unavoidable. He is dark where I am light, he is calm where I am excitable, he is arrogant where I am modest, and he is calculated where I am impulsive. From our looks to our innermost thoughts we are different, yet this very difference is what makes us need one another.

Manny first enlightened me to my submissive side. He has had several years experience in a D/s relationship where he lived with a full time slave. I was repulsed by the very thought of it when he first told me. I could not believe that a woman in the 1990's would consider such a way of life. I felt is was taking women back over 100's of years. Manny tried to patiently explain the concept and feelings to me but I did not hear him. Not until last month, when it hit me like a train.

We were in bed one evening. He was reading a book and I was bored with mine. I was in a playful mood and kept touching him periodically then turning aside when he would put his book down. Manny is the type that is usually fully focused on his task at hand. He does not like to multitask. He prefers to concentrate on what he is doing in order to get the most fulfillment from it. He is the same way with sex. So, in my teasing, I knew that I was frustrating him. He finally threw the book on the floor and walked across to his dresser. I thought he was angry and I was startled at first. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a leather bag that he laid next to the bed. I looked at him quizzically. He told me that I had been asking for this for a long time. He pulled out a blindfold and put it over my eyes. I giggled and let him continue. He was very slow and methodical. He pulled toys from the bag one at a time - -soft-fur lined cuffs for my wrists and ankles which he attached to a chain then attached the chain to the bedposts, rendering me helpless and spread-eagled on the bed. 

He touched me lightly, making me arch in response to his hands. When I felt the leather strips on my breasts I thought it was just some kind of caressing tool. When the caresses became harder, causing stinging, I protested. Manny laughed at my protests. He asked me if I trusted him. I thought about it for a moment and said yes because I really did trust him. When the flogging began again, I doubted my own words of trust. Manny would stop from time to time, caressing me with his hands and feel the wetness between my legs. I was ashamed at the wetness. 

How could my body betray me? The thought of enjoying this pain, this humiliation was sick - yet there I was responding to every touch, every whip. The session was short and actually easy compared to most we've had since. I have never come so forcefully as I did then. I realized later that much of my enjoyment was in being rendered helpless. Helpless to protest, helpless to stop, helpless to do anything but abide by his control. His control of me excited me and there was no denying my need to please him, to serve him. The logical side of me questioned this, but the emotional side accepted it as a long awaited contentment.

The lights on the field went out. Everything was dark, but there were distant lights from other fields where games were still being played. I got up and walked to the dugout sitting near Manny, but not making eye contact. He stood up in front of me. I dared to lift my eyes to his face and he slapped me hard, causing my ears to ring. My hand reflexively went to my burning face. He bent over and kissed my lips while holding my chin. Heat radiated through my body but I couldn't tell whether it was from the slap or the kiss nor could I tell whether it was my anger or lust. 

Manny stood up before I could answer my own questions. He told me to undo his pants. I awkwardly unbuttoned and unzipped his tight baseball pants, pulling them down over his hard and perfect ass. I pulled on the jock strap releasing his growing cock. I looked up at his face. He grabbed my hair by the back of my head, and told me to suck him. I did so enthusiastically, licking the very tip where pre-come fluid was oozing then taking him slowly into my mouth. He pushed farther into my mouth causing me to gag and choke. He paid no attention to my muffled cries, but continued to shove his cock into my throat over and over.

He pulled out suddenly and I gasped in surprise. He reached down and unbuttoned my shirt, sliding it off my arms. He wound up the shirt and placed it over my eyes to blindfold me, tying it at the back of my head. My breathing quickened as it always does when I am plunged into this darkness of my own mind. The feelings of fear mixed with relief were like a well mixed erotic cocktail.

Manny lifted me to my feet. He unbuttoned my shorts and eased them down my legs along with my soaking panties. He unsnapped my bra and took it off. I fidgeted with my hands, not knowing what to do with them. I blushed as I realized he was looking at me. What a sight I must have been with my shirt wrapped around my head and nude except for my socks and cleats. I attempted to cover myself. Manny grabbed my wrists and used a thin leather strap to tie them together in front of me. I realized the leather strap was for binding a mitt together. He then tied one ankle to a post at the bottom of the dugout bench while I was facing towards the bench. 

He forced my legs wide and tied the other ankle to another post. The sound of my cleats scraping against the concrete was out of place - even comical, but I will never hear that again without thinking of this night. He grabbed my wrists and pulled them up over my head, leaning me forward he tied my wrists to the fence behind the bench. This position forced me to bend forward from the waist, my legs were locked straight because of the bench, and my ass jutted out in back of me. He ran his hands over my ass and lower back, down my legs then checked the ties.

I heard him walk away. I smiled to myself but the fear began to mount. I said his name softly, but heard no response. I knew he would not just leave me here, but I shivered anyway. I could hear sounds magnified - the game at the next field where guys were yelling and cheering, the sprinklers in the distance, the cars on the street, the frogs and crickets in the creek at the edge of the fields. My mind was racing, I started to panic. If he left me there too long, the next game would end and the players would need to walk by this field to get to their cars. I struggled against the ties on my wrists, but that only caused them to dig into my skin. I moaned out loud. Manny walked up and told me that I'd better be quiet or I'd attract attention from the nearby fields. He asked if I needed a gag, but I shook my head no since the threat was enough to keep me quiet.

I felt him near me, could hear his breath. He touched my face with a gloved hand. He was wearing his batting gloves. The coolness of the leather sent a chill through me. He held my face in both of his hands and kissed me. He then asked me if I trusted him. I told him I did. He asked me if I loved him. I told him I did. He told me he loved me too, and he called me 'pet'. I beamed.

He ran his hands over my neck, commenting on how slender it was then asked me whose neck it was. I told him it belonged to him. He ran his hands over my breasts, commenting on their heaviness and fullness, then asked me whose breasts they were. I told him they were his. He continued this with various parts of my body - his body.

He moved behind me, caressing and pinching my ass. He felt between my legs and I could feel the slickness of the glove caused by my wetness. I bowed my head forward between my arms. I felt the slap after hearing his hand whoosh through the air. The burning on my ass was just settling when he delivered another slap, then another, then another. The heat of each slap was deepened by the next. I tried to turn to avoid him hitting in the same place, but this only made his blows harder. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Tears were streaming down my face. He stopped and began talking. I had to shake my head to focus on what he was saying. I had already began to descend into that place where my mind takes the pain and massages it into pleasure. Though the pleasure is heightened drastically, my mind is always fuzzy for some time.

He was telling me that he was proud of me. He was proud of my efforts during the game, of taking risks to better the game. He told me that he knew I was doing it for him and the fact that I failed did not matter. I lifted my head to look to him. The feelings in me were of warmth, of contentment, of being so very in love with this man, my Master. His tone changed slightly then. He told me that he was disappointed in my poor attitude at the end of the game. He said that the attitude made it difficult for all to enjoy the game. He said that I showed this attitude frequently when I didn't get my way. My head bowed again as my feelings of regret surfaced. He asked if I understood the need for punishment. I replied that I did.

I sighed thinking it was over and he would untie me. My thoughts were already of the lovemaking to come. My mind wandered to us making love in the car, the shower, in our bed. I came abruptly back to reality when I heard approaching footsteps and voices. I could hear two men talking and coming closer. I held my breath as they came near us. Their footsteps slowed as they were in front of where I was tied up. They stopped. Manny said good evening to them and they both replied 'Hello' in unison. I could feel their stares. I felt deep embarrassment but could not contain the wetness flowing down my thighs.

One of them commented on what a bad girl I must have been. They walked into the dugout, now all were standing behind me. The other made a remark about the redness of my ass. Manny told them to touch my ass to feel the heat. I felt two hands on either cheek as they brushed their rough, callused hands over my ass. One of them squeezed roughly and I moved to get away. A barehanded slap came down hard on my ass. The sound of the slap was much worse than the feel, but I felt the burning on my already sore cheeks nonetheless. Another slap and an evil laugh from one of the men. I felt a finger inserted into my cunt and though my head pounded for me to scream, my hips responded to the finger with a sway. Another hand was on my nipple, squeezing and pinching. My groan was louder than I expected, it seemed to echo - or possibly it went on longer than I thought. I heard zippers and imagined the two men taking their penises out. Manny told them they could touch me anywhere but they could not fuck me. They both grunted in unison, but continued with their barbaric caresses. Their touches were pinches, their fingering was crude and awkward. They put their fingers in my mouth, my cunt, my ass, and even my belly button. They kneaded my flesh like a baker prepares dough.

My mind raced and I felt nauseous, but my excitement was evident by my erect nipples, my sopping wet cunt, and my hard clit. One of them found my pleasure pebble and pinched it continuously. The pain seemed to heighten my approaching climax. I sobbed to Master to make them stop. He told me not to come, to control it. I bit my lip again, this time drawing blood. I focused on the taste of my blood, trying to avoid my orgasm. I could hear the slapping sounds of the two men while they jacked off. They seemed to come in unison, letting their jism splatter on my legs. I almost lost my own control, but gained it back quickly. I heard them zip up and walk away, grunting a thanks to Manny.

Manny walked to me and he stood behind me. He positioned himself while holding my ass. He eased his stiff cock into my cunt and told me to come for him. I immediately did, with orgasm after orgasm wracking my body. My cunt was grasping his cock tightly while my climaxes rolled through. Master told me he loved me and I swear that I could hear his come explode inside me. The sound sent me through another orgasm, this one being deeper within my cunt - as if it was coming from him into me then flowing back through my body. My mind was far away.

If I were not tied to the fence and bench, I would have collapsed. Tears were streaming down my face as I struggled to contain the sobs. Master untied me then held me in his lap, soothing me and stroking me and kissing my tears. He dressed himself, then helped me dress. He carried me to the car. I told him thank you and that I loved him. I laid my head in his lap as he drove home, entering into that state of contentment with a sigh.

Spank Me After the Ballgame by Salty Vixen

Manny grabbed my wrists and used a thin leather strap to tie them together in front of me. I realized the leather strap was for binding a mitt together. He then tied one ankle to a post at the bottom of the dugout bench while I was facing towards the bench.

The game was rough. We were neck in neck until the last inning when the other team got ahead by two points. We had one last chance to come back. There were two outs when I hit the ball. The runner on second made it home and I made it to first easily. The ball was thrown home in a vain attempt to get the runner out and I saw my chance to make it to second. I took off. The catcher was more alert than I gave her credit for… she threw the ball to second. I got stuck in that ridiculous pickle, where the runner never wins. They did finally get me out - -the third and final out. We lost the game by one. Yes, I blamed myself. Why do I always have to push so hard?



Spank Me After the Ballgame by Salty Vixen

Manny grabbed my wrists and used a thin leather strap to tie them together in front of me. I realized the leather strap was for binding a mitt together. He then tied one ankle to a post at the bottom of the dugout bench while I was facing towards the bench.

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Salty Vixen

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