Goddess Omi (Story)

Goddess Omi

The phone rang… once, twice and then a third time.

"Hello, Studio," the voice on the other end answered.

There was a dead silence.

"Hello, STUDIO," the voice repeated with a hint of friendly seduction mixed with a mild inflection of annoyance in its tone. "Can I help you?"

"Ummm… yes. My name is Michael and I would like to see one of your Mistresses."

The receptionist replied with the usual list of questions. "Have you been here before, Michael," She asked.

"No, Ma'am," came the surprisingly polite reply. "I have never actually seen a Mistress before, but I think I need to be punished. Is there a Mistress at your dungeon who would be willing to punish me?"

Normally, a receptionist wouldn't engage in excessive details regarding a client's fantasy due to the risk of the caller being able to satisfy himself with the verbal exchange alone. But the reception's curiosity was peaked, and She had an instinctual feeling that Michael's need to be punished was genuine and that his desire to see a Mistress in person was entirely real.

"Why don't you tell me a little about your desire to be punished," the receptionist gently encouraged, trying to gauge the extent of his fantasy. "This way we will be able to determine who you would be most compatible with during a session."

There was a nervous silence on the other end of the line.

"Michael..," was the stern reply that met the silence. "I am going to need you to explain your situation to me so that I can fit you with the most suitable Mistress."

Michael hesitated for just a second longer and then began to blurt out the blurry details of his unfortunate circumstance. "Well," he began, "I am kind of in trouble with my wife. I've tried traditional therapy, but I can't control my impulses to gamble. I have lost a lot of money this past month and my wife is fed up with my inability to control my urges. She told me if I can't find a way to fix this problem that she would consider a separation."

This was all the receptionist need to hear. She stopped Michael from any further explanation and told him to save the remainder of his story for the Mistress that he would be seeing to fulfill his desire to be punished. "It seems you have a very serious situation on your hands, Michael. I would agree that punishment might be beneficial to you, perhaps some behavior modification since "traditional therapy" has not seemed to work for you. Now, how did you find us Michael?" she asked him cooly.

"I found the NYC Rubber Studio website and was captivated by all the beautiful house Mistresses, as well as the ones listed as independent and visiting. It seems like many of your Mistresses are stern."

"This is correct, Michael," the receptionist reassured him. "All of the Mistresses here at our Studio are quite capable of administering corporal punishment, ranging from sensual spankings to severe canings and whippings. I'm sorry to say it, Michael, but from the looks of things it seems you need a more serious session. Now, did any of the Mistresses on our site, in particular, capture your interest?"

"Well," Michael started in his polite tone, "Everyone is exceptionally beautiful, but I will admit that Goddess Omi really struck my eye. Her image is very captivating."

The receptionist agreed. "Well, Michael, you seem to be in luck. Goddess Omi actually very much enjoys administering corporal punishment. She is very adept at role-play sessions, but She especially relishes the opportunity to administer a proper punishment for real life infractions, particularly to naughty little boys who can't control their impulses. I hope for your sake that gambling is your only vice."

"Yes, Ma'am," Michael meekly responded.

"If you are really looking to be punished Michael, Goddess Omi would be more than happy to oblige you, and I have every confidence that She can help you achieve your desired results. Are you sure you are ready for this?"

The silence returned, and a sort of labored breathing that resembled panic could be heard on Michael's end of the line. The receptionist gave him a moment to collect himself and his thoughts as the potential reality settled in his brain. "Yes, I'm ready," he finally uttered, although the hesitation in his voice was still quite evident."

"Good," the receptionist encouraged, "I think the sooner we get you in here, the better. What is your availability?" she asked.

"Anytime," Michael responded without really thinking about it.

"Great. Goddess Omi has an opening at 8:00 tonight. Can you make it?"

"Yes, I can make it," Michael half whispered, his voice shaky and barely audible.

"When you arrive in midtown, you are to call and I will give you instructions on how to proceed."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you."

Michael thought about the session all day. Only 9 hours before he would have his very first session with a Dominatrix, and his stomach was feeling uneasy. He couldn't believe he had let his situation get to this point, where he had to seek out punishment in order to keep his marriage intact, and his wife didn't mind it. She advocated it and even wrote a letter to Goddess Omi that he was instructed to present to Her upon arrival. The hours dragged by as Michael sat at his desk, working the late hours to compensate for the money he had pissed away gambling. And then the clock struck 8:30. Time to close up shop and be on his way. He took a taxi and called the dungeon exactly 5 minutes prior to his arrival. When he arrived in the general area, the receptionist gave him directions and he gingerly walked several blocks with knots in his stomach as he anticipated his fate. When it was time to ring the buzzer, he almost couldn't bring his finger to extend to the button. When he finally did, he was immediately let in and made his way up to the 2nd floor, where he was politely greeted by the receptionist he had spoken to earlier and then guided into the middle room where he was told to await his Mistress after handing over his tribute. The only money he was now allotted from his wife was that which he could hand over to his Mistress so that She could properly punish him. If the money did not enter Her hands and he spent it gambling, their marriage was pretty much over and Michael did not want to risk that.

When the door closed, Michael surveyed his surroundings. The room was very spacious and simultaneously comforting and intimidating, an odd mix, but one that is exactly the kind of atmosphere an upscale dungeon is supposed to create. Before he had the chance to soak it all in, Goddess Omi had knocked on the door, and turned the knob before he had a chance to consider what was happening. When She walked in the room, he almost melted from how beautiful She looked, and he almost cried from the look of severity She wore on Her face.

"Michael," She said, in a tone so stern it was frightening. "Do not just stand there. I want you to drop to your knees and explain yourself. I have heard from our receptionist that you have been a very naughty boy and that your behavior is actually jeopardizing your marriage. Is this true?"

Michael immediately obeyed, fell to his knees and looked up at Goddess Omi in awe and wonder, tears in his eyes from the combination of his misdeeds and the fact that She was so beautiful it was taking his breath away. She wore that blue latex dress that She could be seen in on the NYC Rubber Studio website. Her hair fell to Her shoulders and Her eyes were large and brown and gazing down at him with little sympathy. "Tell me your situation, Michael," Goddess Omi demanded.

Michael found it difficult to speak, and began fumbling through his pockets for the letter his wife gave him to present to the Goddess. Goddess Omi watched him curiously as he unwrinkled the letter that was crumpled in his pocket and handed it to Her. "Interesting," She said as She began reading. Every now and then She would let out a sigh or a "tsk," as She read further into the letter. He little sounds of reproach made him dizzy. "This is very bad, Michael," She told him, as he quivered on his knees before Her. "I am glad you have submitted to the fact that you need to be punished and that you are compliant with your wife's demands. "

"I'm sorry," Michael nearly cried out in repentance.

Goddess Omi was unmoved by his emotion that was clearly rising to the surface. "Well," She said, "I am sure you are sorry that you got yourself into this situation, but you are going to be much sorrier once I am through with you. Now you have one opportunity to leave and go back to your bad behaviors and lose your wife. Or you can stay and submit to my punishment entirely. You are really going to be punished, however, if you decide to stay. I will not use safe words, I will not honor your cries or pleas for me to stop. I will not waver in my discipline despite your outbursts of sincere apologies. Your behavior has been unacceptable and when I have to punish someone and role-play isn't involved, there is no mercy. I will punish you until you are broken and SINCERELY repentant, and I will enjoy doing it. It's what you need and you know it. I am going to give you exactly two minutes to make your decision. If you agree to submit and stay then when I return you will be on your knees with your clothes off waiting for My discipline. If you chose to leave, you can remain clothed and I will show you out the door with a little note of My own to your poor wife. Make the right decision, Michael, your marriage depends on it," She instructed as She gently closed the door behind Her.

Michael had now begun to panic, not realizing Goddess Omi was a lifestyle disciplinarian who was able to extend the limits of a session beyond a role play scenario. He didn't want to lose his wife, but he didn't exactly want to be beaten, either, which was pretty much what he was expecting if decided to stay. But Goddess Omi's words rung in his head, "your marriage depends on it." And so he sucked in a deep breath, neatly removed and folded his clothing and was waiting on his knees with only a second to spare before Goddess Omi reentered the room.

She looked down at his trembling body, "First intelligent decision it seems you've made in a long time, Michael," She told him. When She entered he was so blinded by his fear that he hadn't noticed that She was carrying an array of paddles and whips in both Her hands. She saw him glance at them and then divert his eyes in a panic. "What's wrong, Michael," She asked with a hint of sarcasm in Her voice, "Are you finally realizing what you've gotten yourself into?"

Michael nodded as Goddess Omi placed the implements on the bondage bed, and took a seat on the Mistress throne in the corner of the room. "Crawl over here, Michael," She demanded. He obeyed instantly, terrified to hesitate despite his instinct not to move. Once he had reached her feet, She grabbed a fistful of his ashy blonde hair and forcefully guided him across Her lap. Although Her frame is petite, She was able to securely fasten him over Her lap. "Michael," She said sternly, "We are going to start off slowly because you have never seen a Mistress or even been spanked before, but I want you to know that by the end of this session your wife doesn't want to be able to see you sit comfortably for the next week. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes," Michael whimpered, completely humiliated that he was actually over a woman's knee as if he were a five year old.

Without warning a loud resounding sound echoed through the room and was accompanied by a sharp pain on his right buttock. Michael winced.

"We have protocol here, Michael," Goddess Omi scolded with another slap to emphasize Her point. "You will address Me as Mistress EVERY single time you are permitted to speak to Me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," Michael responded obediently and even politely offered an apology for his mistake.

"Good boy," Goddess Omi rewarded as She administered a series of hand spanks that soon had his bottom a glowing shade of pink. Goddess Omi enjoyed the way Her hand prints were showing up on his white bottom, crisscrossing in all directions and almost looking like art. She continued to spank him until his ass was entirely red and Her hand prints were not longer discernable. It was obvious Michael had a very low tolerance for pain and he was squirming and whimpering the entire time, even resorting to pleading and all She was using was Her hand. Goddess Omi laughed. "This is only My hand, sweetie," She said with a hint of seduction and sadism. "Now get off of My lap," She demanded as She thrust Her hips so that he would lose his balance over Her knee and fall to the floor. "Now the real punishment begins."

Michael sucked in a huge gulp of air, unaware of how to cope with the humiliation he was being forced to endure alongside the pain that left his bottom burning from just a hand spanking. Goddess Omi didn't give him any extra time to contemplate his predicament as She guided him over to the cross and securely fastened both his hands and feet to the top and bottom so that he couldn't move. "Please, no," Michael begged, "I really am sorry. I will learn to control my impulses, I promise. Please, Mistress," he pleaded desperately.

"Too late for that, Michael," She scolded. I told you I don't respond to pleading when I am administering a serious punishment." She walked over to him and turned his face sideways with Her hand so that he could meet Her stern gaze. He almost melted from the look in Her eyes. "Look at My face Michael," She demanded. "Does it look like I'm playing?"

"No Mistress," he responded. His response was met with his face being forcibly rotated back towards the front of the cross. Before he realized what was happening, he felt a series of strikes landing across his bottom, and he knew that he was being whipped, but he did not know what he was being whipped with. All that filled his brain was the horrible pain of sharp lashes descending upon his blazing flesh. Poor Michael really did have a pathetic tolerance and he was on the verge of screaming when Goddess Omi threatened him with a gag.

"This is your first lesson in impulse control," She coolly informed him. "You will NOT scream. If you do, you will receive 100 strokes of the cane. So far I am going to give you 30. They will be extremely hard so that you understand what a punishment caning feels like. And if you scream, that will only tell Me that you can't obey My directions, that you can't control your impulses and that you must really want to be beaten mercilessly. Do I make Myself clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," Michael uttered beneath clenched teeth as he desperately tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes.

"This is for your own good, Michael," Goddess Omi told him. "I am saving your marriage right now." With that, a stroke of the cane landed across both cheeks and Michael literally jumped despite being bound. The pain was so intense that a scream could not be uttered because his body went into shock.

"I knew you weren't going to scream from the first one, " Goddess Omi acknowledged, "because your body doesn't know how to respond. The next 29 are going to make you want to scream," She informed him with all sincerity, and possibly throw up. You won't be able to sit for a week. But if you can't control the impulse to scream you will get 100 ofMy hardest and then you won't be able to sit for a month. All of these decisions are yours Michael, just like the decision to gamble away your money and risk your marriage. Now don't scream," She commanded as She landed another strike.

Michael, desperate to be obedient for numerous reasons, did not scream. But by the 30th stroke, his body was a trembling mess and the tears were pouring down his red face. Goddess Omi examined his backside and admired Her handiwork. Michael had some severe welts that would be with him for at least the next week. Goddess Omi walked over to him and released him from his bondage, whereupon he instantly fell at Her feet, sobbing from the release and the guilt and the desire to repair his marriage. She gently soothed him, rubbing Her fingers through his hair and caressing his scalp with Her nails as He sobbed. "It's okay, Michael," She whispered sweetly, "You are allowed to cry. You did a good job today and you proved something to both Me and yourself, and also to your wife and I am going to send home a good report for you. Your wife is sending you back here in two weeks for a progress check. I hope that you are going to behave so that I don't have to punish you so severely, or worse… and if you do behave and make us proud, I can promise you a nice little reward for good behavior. I am a fair Mistress, and that is why I had to punish you this way. But I am very impressed with your desire to remedy your behavior and take direction from Me and with your willingness to suffer because you love your wife so much."

"Thank you, Mistress," Michael replied between broken sobs.

"You are welcome Michael. Now I will give you a few moments to collect yourself and then we will schedule your appointment in two weeks. By that time your wounds should be healed, and I don't want a reason to recreate them. I am going to go write your wife a little note and I will be back to escort you out."

She stroked his face gently and smiled at him. Her beauty and the new found gentleness immediately eased his discomfort. He struggled to put his pants on, but he felt as if a great burden were released and he was very grateful to Goddess Omi for Her assistance. He was determined to be on his best behavior because his mind was racing with the thought of what reward She might give him in two weeks if his wife had sent him to his next session with a good report.

NYC Rubber Studio

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined