A Very Unusual Present to Myself

By S.M. Ackerman

With a compelling desire to be punished, Mary (as a birthday treat to herself) contacts a Dominant she finds through a kinky magazine advertisement. She meets with “Sir” for her first dose of corporal punishment, and very soon finds herself falling under the total control of this discipline master.

However, “Sir” has his own ideas with regards to Mary’s future, along with his own methods of ensuring her obedience to his will. Mary becomes part of his household and her master’s expanding stable of slave girls. When jealousy between slaves rears its ugly head, hard decisions need to be made, along with some painful consequences. Eventually, Mary is sent to “The College” for training, where she’s placed under the strict control of a highly experienced madam and turned into a ponygirl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Flamingo Media LLC
• Release date: Jul 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781942331438

S.M. Ackerman

S.M. Ackerman Author BioB.D.S.M. Bondage, Domination, Sadism, masochism, female domination, male domination, and so many other titles all fall within the single grouping of ‘The Lifestyle,’ and all are sub-cultures of life desire and humanity. There are so many other sub-cultures but they all have one thing in common to me as a writer, they are about people and their drives, they also make for a varied and interesting source for tales.People fascinate me, listening to them expound on their varied beliefs, their needs and desires becomes the magic button they press. The truth of their passions flow and creates a level of understanding of their lives and interests, which I find fascinating and on occasions enlightening.I am not really interested in writing pure titillation erotica, I don’t write for that reason; sex for sex’s sake is mechanically boring and makes for a poor story. Instead I hope to understand and depict the reality of the people who stimulate my stories. As you can see, a large proportion of my tales are fantasy, but buried deep within them is a core of reality, which I attempt to display.A biog usually has a long list of titles but I don’t see the point, just put S M Ackerman into Google and wait 100th of a second to reveal Amazon, Pink Flamingo and Grommets Plaza, to name but a few places.On Grommets Plaza you will discover a large body of free stories, all dedicated to the variety of interests within the life style and the site, and for those that like adult erotica it is probably well worth a visit.Some of mine posted are early works and perhaps the editing was not so good then, but the tales told are still valid. Though please accept that time restrictions and work load have left the editing short of perfection, so please judge them on the story told, not necessarily the grammar.On Pink Flamingo you will find the higher level of professional work in the form of books, both paperback and electronic with more to come soon.In ‘Madam in Attendance.’ (Pink Flamingo), you will discover that you do not like the main character, to this I say, I know. That is exactly as it should be, the reason is simple she has a deep passion and a deeper responsibility, and as such her work and her friends and staff and the needs of her clientele has to come first in her thinking. She does not have the luxury that other characters have, that of being likable. She has to be both professional and responsible, and so she hides her fear.‘Chloe & me,’ (Pink Flamingo) is a very different form of female domination and regales the lives of three people and their development into their own version of the life style, in an interesting enlightening and perhaps stimulating way for you the reader.Within the Pink Flamingo publications web you will also discover a range of free stories accompanying these books, they are provided to offer a free insight into my works, and so I say please enjoy them with my compliments.All the best. S.M. Ackerman

Book preview

A Very Unusual Present to Myself

by S.M. Ackerman

ISBN: 978-1-942331-43-8

A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

Copyright © 2015 S.M. Ackerman

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older

Dedication

To the staff at Pink Flamingo who print them so prettily

And to the readers who enjoy them, many thanks.

S.M. Ackerman

Chapter One

My real name is Mary and I am twenty-one and a bit now, I live with my parents still, though that might soon be changing. I work as a secretary in a large legal firm and have had quite a sheltered upbringing. Well that’s me, sweet, mostly innocent and desperate. Do not get me wrong, I have had a few boyfriends, but none of them came close to providing me with the one thing I really wanted. I suppose if you, the reader of this, my story are to understand my desires, and what I ended up doing to ensure that they occurred; I must start at the beginning and tell my tale in detail, so this is what happened and where my desires eventually took me. This is the tale of my journey into slavery, it all started with a desire on my part to be soundly spanked.

***

I was eighteen, bored, away from school, and as on most days, I met up with a few friends in the local park. We sat around looking I suppose like so many other groups of teenagers; harmless and not doing anything besides killing an hour before returning home.

It was Lou who found the magazine and Lou that thought it funny enough to show to us. She had been to the loo (quite apt really), the magazine was in there discarded on the floor. She had picked it up, flicked through it and then hastily returned to show us her prize.

The magazine was one of those adult books the sort that dealt with (as I soon found out) the forum of spanking and female domination. Instantly, I touched the cover, a shock of electric desire exploded through me. When I opened it and saw the first picture of a girl, skirt up, being caned, the shock returned. Something about the picture excited my imagination. Anyway the magazine got passed around and laughed at, I watched my friends carefully trying to see if any of them reacted to its contents like I had. They didn’t, which left me feeling confused but also determined to own that magazine, and to read it most carefully.

Time to go and I had the magazine held safely clutched in my fist, I offered to dispose of it and no one argued. Like hell I was going to dump it, I intended to read it from cover to cover seeking out an explanation for my reaction.

That night I lay in bed reading and studying the images. I know what they mean now when they laughingly say ‘wanking can send you blind’. I nearly burned the pages with my intense study. That night I dreamed a montage of dreams, all with me being the victim and some stranger doing the disciplining of my bared and presented bottom. With hindsight I know that those dreams, and that magazine, were the starting point of a desire. One that would eat me up, until I finally obtained the position of subservience I desired, and clearly, I believed needed.

Six months before my twenty-first birthday, and having failed at every turn to get what I wanted from my boyfriends, I made the decision to act. I searched the Internet looking at adverts and images, until finally one particular screen grabbed my attention.

That screen was not a glossy expensive site, it was instead constructed of simple type, but to the point, and it offered a service that I desperately wanted. The ad said:

NAUGHTY BOYS AND GIRLS IN NEED OF DISCIPLINE

SHOULD CONTACT SIR.

I contacted Sir that night from my bedroom, Sir responded with a demand to know exactly what and why I felt I needed discipline. Something I had not expected but should have I suppose. I spent the rest of that night trying to come up with something that Sir might agree I deserved to be very soundly punished for, and guess what, I failed.

It was the next day at work that I got an idea; a member of the cleaning staff had been dismissed for pilfering. As the girls talked about it over lunch, I realized the confession I needed to make, well invent really. I have never stolen anything in my life, I am a good girl in reality, but one that wants to be punished and soundly thrashed. The dissection of my desires always leaves me feeling confused, why, I demanded of myself, do I so want someone to thrash me. To cane my bare bottom and make me feel like a pathetic naughty brat, preferably one getting exactly what she deserves. The answer eludes me, I have just had to accept that I want and need to be subjected and punished.

I E-Mailed Sir, stating that I was a thief, that I had stolen a magazine from my friends (and then just to add an extra reason for me being deserving of punishment) that I had lied to my friends as well. I confessed to sir that I told them I would dispose of it, but I had no intention of doing so, hence a lie of sorts.

Copy of my E-mail to Sir.

Sir,

I have to confess to you Sir that I am a thief; I stole a spanking/female domination magazine from a friend, and then I lied to all of my friends about it. I now feel so guilty that when I saw your advert, I decided that I had no other choice but to ask you Sir, if you would play judge, jury and executioner to me for my crimes. I am willing to accept any and all punishment decreed by you, if you will please agree to discipline me.

Carol.

As I have already told you my name is Mary, you may be wondering why I have signed my name as Carol. I am scared of being identified, so I decided to use another name for my disciplining by Sir. It also makes the prospect of what I had instigated for myself more exciting. The opportunity to become someone else, to sort of have an alter ego but one that can be made to suffer for my crimes as well felt quite arousing, so hence I signed myself as Carol.

Two weeks prior to my twenty-first birthday, I returned from a dull days work and found that Sir had sent me an E-mail, which I hastily opened. It was typical of every contact I have had so far from him – clear direct and to the point, with no hesitation or possibility of misunderstanding his intent.

Sir to Me E-Mail

Carol, I have considered your crimes and have decided that discipline is clearly deserved.

You will report to my front door (address provided) at 10am on the 17th. You will be dressed exactly as you were at the time of the offence.

I got to that point and thought ‘Oh shit’, I had been at school then so I would have been in full uniform. The thought of being back in my old school clothes, but at twenty-one years old came as quite a shock. I would also have to travel to his residence dressed that way, which was not local, and therefore meant using public transport. What if someone I know spotted me dressed in my uniform again. I considered finding somewhere to change into the uniform just prior to arriving at his home, but then I realized that he intends that my traveling would be a part of my punishment, a sort of humiliation to set the scene, I read on.

The financial cost of your discipline will be £500 pounds with twenty percent, £100 pounds being presented at the front door prior to entry. The balance in full to be in an envelope, which you will place upon entry where indicated.

£500 pounds was a hell of a lot money, nearly half a month of my earnings, and all for a sound spanking, but it was intended to be my special birthday present to myself. Therefore, if my savings took a hit, they took a hit. Much as I hoped to take a hit, I mean, well, lots of them really, five hundred pounds worth to be exact.

I had to look up train times and book tickets; I realized that ten in the morning at his house meant that I would be getting up early to go. Was I mad, I remember wondering, as I paid for my travel?

The next section had a heading, one that made me gasp, though why I could not tell you, but it did.

PUNISHABLE OFFENCES

1. Stealing a magazine

2. Lying.

3. Possession of stolen adult material.

4. Reading stolen adult material.

5. Manipulation of boyfriends without confession.

6. Any offence caused or liberty taken during punishment.

Six offences all neatly typed out so I understood exactly what I was letting myself in for. A little knot grew in my guts as I hit save and exited his message. I had made absolutely certain that I would arrive with plenty of time to spare when I had booked my tickets. It was only after I had booked them that I realized that I would be standing around for an hour or more dressed as a school girl, and in a strange city. All whilst waiting to go to Sir’s to be soundly punished, he must have known that was what would happen, the crafty B…...

The last lines of Sir’s message had reverberated in my thoughts, it had said:

I will require of you an E-mail stating clearly that you give permission in full, and accept my decision as to the nature of your punishment, and its application to yourself.

I had better reply. I do not want him thinking me tardy or not really accepting of his authority; so I quickly compiled a reply giving him the permissions he required of me.

Copy Of Permission E-Mail Sent To Sir.

Sir, I accept any punishment that you consider to be deserved. I accept and give full permission for you to administer to me, as you see fit and in anyway, method or with any implement, any level of discipline you require of me. I accept totally that I have requested you to punish me, and give you full permission to deal with me as you see fit.

Carol.

I remember that I nearly signed the wrong name, but I realized prior to sending it to him thankfully. I push the send button and my acceptance and commitment had been set in place. There was no way to get out of my well earned (and much wanted) discipline now, bar simply not turning up. The remaining two weeks until I had to attend dragged, my twenty-first birthday passed and finally the morning of my discipline arrived.

Chapter Two

All My Dreams Have Arrived Today

& My Train Trip To Dread

The day has finally arrived and dutifully I wake to the screech of my alarm clock. Today I will attend upon Sir; I am as ready mentally for the trial ahead as I can be. Unfortunately, my stomach is not, it is in free fall as a growing fear of what I have arranged to receive hits me. My uniform is hanging in my wardrobe, all neat and complete, even down to a rather un-sexy pair of white panties, and suitable socks. These he has demanded in a flurry of last second E-Mails, last night, stating that I attend dressed in my full school uniform and that includes my school socks and pants, which I never would consider wearing now-a-days, I being a sophisticated twenty-one year old. Orders are orders for me to obey, or at least they are today.

I get up, shower, taking my time, but soon the clock demands that I dress. The towel I am wearing as I sit on my bed looking at my school clothes all innocently hanging against my wardrobe door, has to go. With a quick tug, it tumbles to the bed, leaving me naked. A glance down shows everything I have, which as a package is not too bad really. My breasts are quite perky and to my horror my nipples are already erect. I have a slim stomach with only the slightest of bulges; and a thick bush of shaggy hair to hide my maidenly charms.

Already I can feel that part of my body is getting very hot and quite damp. I stand up, reaching out, removing the hanger from the wardrobe laying my ordered clothes out ready for dressing. With a final deep sigh of resignation I take up the large pants and pulled them on, making sure that they seat comfortably. Next I put on a matching white quite plain bra, and swiveled it into place; thus hiding my erect nipples from my sight. Then for the blouse, again white and buttoned up to my neck; all prim and proper.

My old Headmistress would have been surprised but pleased, as I had always had the top buttons open. Today I decide to look as smart and compliant as possible. I clearly remember the last line of Sir’s punishment list and want to avoid receiving any extra discipline, as I think I am in enough trouble already. The skirt is black, knee length and pleated slightly. The socks are white and fit tight around my calves; so I have grown a little I realize. That only leaves my shoes, black, clumpy lace ups, the perfect school shoes. I look at myself in my full-length mirror, staring at the smart young woman looking back at me. Both of us, me and my reflection, knowing that soon I will be suffering because of my confession. Probably I will not look to sir as though butter will not melt in my mouth, but right now I sort of do.

I pull on a rain Mack which covers most of what I am wearing not strictly what Sir will expect I am sure but I have decided that I will remove it once I am on the train. The bus ride to the train station goes well, eight in the morning on a Saturday the buses are quite empty. There is only an old man sitting half-way down the bus, I can feel him watching me, perhaps wondering where his youth went, and then again more likely thinking, if only.

I decide that wearing the Mack is directly and deliberately being naughty so I take it off, making sure that the old man notices; well I can give him a treat of sorts. That also goes for the bus driver as I flounce off the bus, right outside of the train station. I half turn, grinning at both and with a casual wave I depart; little do they know what I am departing to do, but I bet they would both approve.

The station platform is almost empty, that is but for two women standing at the far end. They glance at me, one smirks saying something to her companion and then they both studiously ignored me from then on. The train is on time, and once I have boarded and having placed my carryall on the floor, which contains my purse phone along with a folded up Mack I try to relax. I should point out that for safety reasons I have left a letter under my laptop at home detailing exactly where I am going, not that I think there is any real danger from Sir, except to my bottom. All the same, and as mum always says, ‘safety first, stay in touch and let us know where you are, so if something happens we will at least know where to start looking for you.’

I arrive in the city an hour and a half early so I seek out a coffee-bar and have a toasty and drink; prior to hailing a taxi and giving the address I need to go to. Eighteen minutes later, I am on the outskirts of the city, standing at the gatepost of a drive which leads up to a large old looking house. In there I hope that I am soon to meet my fate, the butterflies react perfectly, grabbing and twisting at my guts in fear.

Taking a deep breath I approach the wooden front door and reach hesitantly out for the bell. It is one of those pull type, a single tug brings to my ears the distant clang of a bell ringing. Too late now girl, I say to myself as I wait for the door to open. Too bloody late now I repeat. The door opens revealing a tall thin man, standing upright and stiff looking in the doorway, looking down at me from nearly a foot higher than I am standing on his drive.

Ah yes, Carol, I believe you have something for me?

I panic for a second, crouch down quickly reaching into my bag, I remove the letter containing the first installment of one hundred pounds; exactly as he has specified. Inside the envelope with the letter is a note signed and dated today by me, giving him permission to apply any discipline to me and in any way that he sees fit, just so he knows that what ever he inflicts on me is still ok. I stand up, my head slightly bowed as I hold out the envelope to him with my hand trembling slightly.

Thank you, Carol, remain there please.

He shuts the front door, not with a slam of apparent disgust, but smoothly and quietly; as though I am nothing of any importance to him. Leaving me outside waiting on his doorstep, my butterflies now take full reign.

The instant feeling of being under his complete control, coupled with the humiliation of being made to wait hits me hard. Let alone the feeling of standing outside his front door dressed as some parody of a schoolgirl, I realize this is exactly his intention for me to feel, suddenly