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Missy: Day Eleven

My heartfelt thanks go to all that read, vote and comment on my stories. It’s encouraging and inspiring me to keep telling Missy’s stories in her strange, extremely horny world. Happy reading!

My Amazing Mason 3

Kaylee continues with her therapy but she also learns things that she was sheltered from when she was in the “order”.

lesbian sex turns straight

hello, this story is true, not 100% but the most parts are, this is my first story so dont be afraid to give me some tips on how to improve, i will also be switching from me to my sister and her friend in the story it will take a while to get to the entire sex parts because of the storyline behind it but just bear with me, enjoy

What I really want

WHAT I REALLY WANT
What I really want is to go to sort of a bondage palace in New York or Chicago. I want to walk in, negotiate the conditions of my spanking, and pay the price, several hundred dollars I would guess. A scantily clad young woman would then take me back to a locker room where I would take off my clothes (she would watch as I got naked) and store them away.
Another scantily clad, more mature woman would then lead me back to a big dungeon sort of room. I would then be handcuffed to a frame in the middle of the room with my arms up and spread. My legs would then be spread and shackled to the frame. I would stand there with my cock and balls swinging free, other people looking at me. I would be ashamed of how I looked naked, but could do nothing to cover myself.
Approximately half of the others would also be naked, both men and women. They would be tied up in some fashion having pain administered to them- some with paddles, some with whips, and some with clamps. Some would be moaning in pain or pleasure, some crying out in pain, some crying out or screaming with more pain. They would be of both genders, of a variety of ages. I would neither be the oldest, nor the saggiest person in the room.
The other half of the people in the room would be administering the pain. They would be scantily clad, both male and female, some mature, but none of them over about 45. I would have some time to watch other people getting their punishment and/or their pleasure, hopefully both. Watching for awhile would be part of my arrangement with the front desk. Most of the men would have hard-ons, even the ones being whipped or having mousetraps attached to their nipples or cocks. One, older than me, with a large hard cock, would be coming as he was being fucked in the ass by a young looking stud in a mask. His cum would rope out on the floor as he screamed his release, the stud pounding his ass till he hollered his own release, filling the old man’s ass with his cum.
In a back corner of the room a white haired old lady would have three bikini clad women working her over. She would be shackled spread-eagled like myself while a very young girl would be finger fucking her with what looked like three fingers. A mature woman in a black leather bikini would be pinching and twisting her nipples till she cried out in pain. A most voluptuous young woman would be behind her paddling her already red ass with a large wooden paddle. As she reached the point of no return her cries of pain would turn into cries of pleasure as she came hard, the pinching of her nipples would turn to hard slaps to her sagging tits, and the paddling of her crimson butt would continue until her cries of release stopped.
Over to my near left, a well built young woman would be strapped to a metal table, her legs in stirrups, her large tits topped with nipples pulled deeply into a sucking machine. Her cunt would be being invaded with a massive dildo shoved in and out by a machine, which seemed to pick up speed as I watched. She would cry out in anticipation as her climax approached. She would shudder and holler, “Oh Christ! Make me cum! Oh God!!! Do Me!! Oh fuck! Suck my nipples harder!! Fuck the hell out of me, you bastard!!” With that, she would come with great gushes as the dildo slammed in and out of her at maximum speed.
I would be really hard at this point. “You ready for your spanking, stud?” This would be delivered in a soft, sexy voice. The speaker would come into my view, a statuesque redhead, wearing a black leather bikini. She carried a large, stiff, black leather paddle, which she would set down on a table. She would pick up a cock ring and place it around my cock and balls, pulling it very tight, making my cock, if anything, harder. She would then slap my cock and balls around a few times, making me grit my teeth in pain and cry out. “Get used to that, stud, I’m only starting,” she would say.
She would move around behind me, where she would give me a solid smack on my right ass cheek with her hand. She would then give me a solid smack on my left cheek. Then she would spank my right cheek harder, then the left. She would alternate left and right cheek for some minutes. Mirrors would have been set up so that I could see my ass clearly. And I would now be able to see it redden under the spanking the redhead was giving me. “Do you want it harder, stud?” she would ask. “Yes,” I would say.
She would then take my balls in her right hand and began to squeeze, looking me in the eye. “Does that hurt?” she would ask. “No,” I would answer. This would go on with her squeezing my balls harder and harder, till I’d never felt such pain in my life, and tears came into my eyes. “Oh God, that hurts,” I’d cry. She’d let go, then, slapping my cock and balls hard, as she would pick up the wicked looking paddle and move around behind me.
Whack! She hit me with the paddle on both cheeks. It would hurt, but she would hit me again, then again, picking up speed and hitting my ass harder with the leather paddle. I would cry out in pain as I really began to feel the hurt and heat in my ass cheeks. As I glanced into the mirrors, I would see that my ass had turned a bright crimson color. Yet the paddling would continue. The pain would become unbearable, yet I’d bear it, and bear more. Then she’d stop. “Are you done, stud? Or can you take some more?” “Give me some more,” I cried through my tears, “And make me come though my pain” That’s what I wanted to hear, stud.”
A cute young girl, not over about 12 years old would come into my view, kneel in front of me and take my rigid cock into her small mouth. Then I’d feel the paddle hit my ass harder than it ever had till now. Then it would hit again, and again, till I cried out in total pain and now would fear that I couldn’t stand it any more. But she wouldn’t stop. The little girl would suck my cock even deeper into her warm mouth as the paddling continued.
In the mirror I could see my red ass bounce off the paddle driving my cock deeper into the little girl’s
mouth. Her warm mouth and tongue would feel really good. As the pain in my ass became total, my
orgasm would begin deep inside and began to boil up into my cock. I would be able see those others in
the dungeon watch as my body exploded and as I screamed out my release. I would jerk my body
forward away from the painful paddle and toward the girl’s warm mouth. I would scream again as my
jism spurted into the little mouth that swallowed as fast as it could. Those around me would smile as I
jerked out of control, spasming again and again. My hard cock would be deep in the little girl’s mouth,
only a little bit of cum escaping her mouth and dribbling down her chin. My ass would be on fire. A
couple of people would applaud as I was let down from the shackles. An old guy, being led to a frame by
his hard cock would say, “Great orgasm, man”.
The redhead and the little girl would lead me to the locker room where they helped me get back into my
clothes. The little girl would let me feel up her small breasts before I left. I had never been into very
young girls, but my time with her might convince me to rethink that. I would limp back to my hotel room
and sleep off my huge orgasm, dreaming of soothing oil being rubbed into my ass by a loving older
woman.

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Training Sprite

As I sat in the front room of my house listening to the random and albeit annoying noise of the other occupants of my house I let my mind wander deep in to the depraved catacombs of my mind. My name is Alistair, Alistar Monty. I can’t say that I had a rough childhood but I can’t exactly say it was pleasant either. I’m currently 21 and still living at home with my Grandmother Mother and autistic brother. That in and of itself leaves a sour taste in my mouth let alone the fact that my house is a religious hot spot for every zealot there is with in a 30 miles. I stand 6′ misc” with broad shoulders that make it hard to find dress shirts that fit just right. I have a great interest in martial arts, having read and understand the theory of many different arts. Enough of the bland vanilla things though. I am a Master and I’m relatively new to the entire practice of Master and slave. Not to say that I’m new to the idea or fetish. Both of those I have been interested in since the tender age of a bout nine. One major thing about me though. My kindergartener teacher sucked and never taught me to share. Over body, over ability, over anything a slave has to offer. I value loyalty. Just something that came by after an almost blood brother and sparing partner decided to Take the woman I loved beyond anything I had ever love. And fuck her brains out behind my back. So after months of searching and finding ‘two days’ (women that agree and disappear after two days) I came in contact with an old friend. We talked for a little while and then I asked her ‘do you want to be my slave.’ well she said ‘YES!’
my slave Loretta who I affectionately call Sprite. Is about 5’4” tall with a lithe and slim figure beautiful A cup breasts that screamed to be teased and tortured. A nicely shaped and formed ass, a pair of thin lips that God (when he wasn’t fucking with the innocent people) must have taken years to craft. All of this comes with a dominant attitude and pair of beautiful legs. Sexy right? I think so to. The only downside? She lives with a 31 year old who works her as if he owns her lock stock and soul. I could be bias and hell I’ll admit I am bias but that old fuck can go and croak in my opinion. Though I try not to express this to her. I’m fairly sure she knows my views on him. From what I hear of him he flys off the handle bars, loud, obnoxious, rude, controlling, and just an overall dick. What scares me the most though is that he sounds like me. Any who with all of that aside and your basic intro to the inner workings of me. My mind slowly drifts back to reality as my Grandmother chatters away at me about something to do with her three seater sofa. The last words I register are “so you can take it and make it a two seater?” Only now realizing the shit that I have gotten myself into as I set body to autopilot and cursing my self for doing so in a space with in 50 feet of my family. Sighing inwardly I nod and smile up at her spouting off
“of course Grandma who do you think I am?”
Knowing that its probably not a worse task than designing your own lift for suspension bondage. Out of the peripheral of my half aware state I hear some fashion of an elderly squeal that sounds more like a dying klaxon alarm than any expression of joy. Being the only capable human in the house intitled me to such fun tasks as anything from changing remote batteries to turning a three seater reclining sofa into a two seater reclining love seater. Hooray for me, not really. Between taking 5 college classes being the only one who brings in money to the house and them. I barely had time to breath, but I always made time for her. For my Sprite and my my look at the time it was about time for me to go see her and give her a lesson I’ve been waiting to give her. Sprite has always had an interest in being a slave. We tried it once; kinda, when she was younger but it didn’t quite work out. Turns out unless you strap a 16yearold to a wooden x and face fuck them into submission they don’t tend to listen to you. Well now shes older and we are trying again.
The drive is always the hardest for me. The throbbing boner, the nervous stomach that threatens to present itself all over the sidewalk, the awkward silence as I drive not even listening to the radio let alone have the radio on. Finally I get to where we decided to meet up. I had reserved a room at a motel 6. I know not exactly classy or great but its all I can afford on $10 part time with literally half my check going to my ‘house.’ I had set up a pass code with the manager so that Sprite could get a key. She should be waiting for me in the room. She always had some sort of surprise planned for me. I loved that. Our first meeting I walked in to find her lying naked facing me on top of the bed. Her eyes screaming silently “RAPE ME MY MASTER MAKE ME YOUR BITCH SLAVE!!!!!!!” and I had done just that. And quite adequately for a virgin at the time. To this day her eyes shone with the same awe and passion as they did the first time. I think that is what excited me the most about her. Parking my 1990 Carola I climb out of the front seat and stretch a little. Getting my usual looks of ‘how did he fit in there?’ Ignoring them I walked over to the managers window and gave the dry and dreary attendant the pass code. To which I was presented my key. Room 206 top corner unit. After the first time I learned to limit the number of people around us. A sly look from the attendant gave it away that the first time we were lucky that Alfred (the man she was living with) didn’t hear her screaming ‘FUCK ME MASTER!’
I slowly slide the key into the hole. Noting the foreshadowing for what was about to happen that existed in this simple and daily exercise. Slowly swinging open the plywood door. Watching the edge travel in its predestined arc revealing more of the land beyond its square arch with ever inch it traveled. There in the middle of the room knelt my prize. Something I spent every night fantasizing about. Though this was a first. No surprise, she always had a surprise for me, today must have been extremely hard to get away from Alfred. I felt a little anger spur inside of me at the idea that he and his family watched her like a hawk as if she were some psycho serial killer waiting to break lose of her facilities and start a rampage. That wasn’t and isn’t the Sprite I know. The tender loving, compassionate, and kind side that so few people got to see. Pushing my feelings about Alfey out of my mind to keep them form souring my sweet treat before me I strode over to sprite. Letting the lightly door close with a small breeze.
Sprite knelt in front of me, sitting on her heels. Her knees roughly two feet apart so as not to obstruct her beautiful looking shaven pussy. Her arms where folded behind her back fingers touching her elbows so as to accentuate her chest and torso. Her beautiful pink nickle sized nipple stood erect and hard showing that her mind was at work playing scenarios of what was going to happen today. Along with hard nipples always came a soaked pussy. I half glided around her as if she where a lioness I captured on safari. She was my Sprite my nimble quarry and I planned to have my utmost fun with her.
Silently I crouched down behind her whispering softly in my deep voice.
“I missed you Sprite.” kissing her ear gently
“I missed you to my Master” she did her best to suppress a shiver.
I could tell that she was aching between her legs and needed relief. That was something that I planned to give her after mass amounts of teasing and training. I stood up and walked to her front. Without being prompted she moved from her position knowing exactly what I wanted. She undid my belt and button then unzipped my pants letting them fall to the ground. A sigh of relief came from me as my hard no longer pressed against the harsh inside of the zipper. Even though my boxer briefs the zipper stabbed and raked at the head of my cock. Sprite gently tugged my undergarment down letting it fall ontop of my pants. My throbbing manhood completely exposed to her now. She gently reached up not able to stop her fascination with pleasing me. I encouraged her to act on her own as long as she wasn’t in punishment or breaking the rules. Her soft hands gently slid across my underside and balls. The lust boiling behind her eyes. I could see her want her need to have me jammed in any hole I wanted. Exactly the look I loved. Sprite gripped my shaft and began stroking my cock. She knew I had been saving up for a few days. I’m not sure but I’m almost positive she loves to make me cum. A very good trait for a slave in my book. Her fingers rubbed from base to head with a gentle grip. Her wrist giving a little flick at the end making me twitch a little each time. As her one hand worked my shaft and head the other wasted no time gathering her own juice on her finger tips. I saw this and raised an eyebrow. Sprite had been instructed not to cum until I approved. Which had proven difficult for her since Alfey loves to fuck her as much as I do. Sprite smiles mischievously as she takes her dripping fingers and applies her juices to my balls. I feel myself relax gently against the slick feeling of her hand fondling my sac. I look down at her and see her passion as she stares down the length of my cock. Sprite had never found the taste of a man pleasing. Something I planned to change. I saw her try to work up the courage to take me into her mouth. Fearful that she might mess up. I stroked her hair. Something I did as a reassurance more than a command. Sprite smiled at me and switched hands. The drying juices produced a rather kinky sticky texture to which excited my throbbing need even more. The lack of release over the past few days in addition to teasing her constantly when ever I could made me very sensitive to her expert technique. Tensing stiff I managed to prolong my inevitable eruption only a few strokes longer. Under her masterful hands there was no way I could hold myself back. Sprite hated things on her face other than water so she quickly jerked down. Earning a wince from me at the sudden force.
Sprite whimpered now having been covered in my thick jizzim, having been horny since the word go, and knowing she was in for punishment. I smirked evilly as I she looked up at me.
“open your mouth Sprite”
Hesitating for a split second she did so sticking out her tongue. Part of today’s training was really more of a psychological one. Associating pleasure/’good’ with cum. Namely a good taste with cum. With out risking to much to fast I wiped a small amount from her left nipple as it threatened to fall to the floor. The humiliation of licking my cum from the floor/sheets would have to come after she craved the taste. I gently pressed the cum to the center of her tongue. A good spot to start since mentally she knows its there however the miracle of the tongue is that its devised up into different sections each specifically assigned to a single sensation. Sweet, bitter, salty, umame (savory/earthy) and sour. With 80%of the tongue dedicated to salty. However the center of the tongue is used for virtually no specific taste.
“close your mouth Sprite” I commanded
Doing so she looked down. I could see that she was contemplating what to think of what I placed in her mouth. I smiled to myself as her gaze was shifted away from me. It was working. I frowned as her gaze shifted back up to me. I looked into her eyes and saw what I was looking for. The single light of ‘this isn’t bad’ giving her a smile to reinforce the though I saw it balloon a little.
“stand and bend over slave” she did so realizing that she was still in punishment.
My eyes traveled over her bent over form. The beautiful curves that her ass made as each cheek flowed into gorgeous thighs. There it was. She hadn’t forgotten my surprise.
To Be Continued

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Reading Allowed, Pt.4

READING ALLOWED, Part 4
By lamignonne and Zenmackie
He made her put the collar on herself. He showed her how to open the clasp with the Allen key and watched her fix the steel band around her neck. It fit perfectly—snug against her skin but not tight enough to constrict her breathing in any way. He pocketed the key and just watched her as she knelt at his feet, feeling the collar with her hands and getting used to its weight. After a quiet, tense minute, during which he was sure she was contemplating the seriousness of the decision she’d just made—and, he had no doubt, getting hornier by the second—he reached down and clipped the chain leash to her collar.
He took a step back and gave the leash a vicious yank, pitching Marie forward onto her hands and knees. She gasped and her hand went involuntarily to her neck. She looked up at him and her face, small and pale above the shiny uncompromising steel, revealed her hurt feelings. “Just making sure it works, princess,” he said in reply, smiling cruelly. He pulled steadily on the leash and she followed him, crawling, over to a padded spanking bench assembled in the middle of the store. He sat down and she settled at his feet.
Marie was exhausted. Her thoughts and feelings had been rioting since that morning, and it was taking its toll on her. She knew she’d made the right decision when she agreed to wear his collar, but her life had changed so irrevocably and so fast—she couldn’t assimilate the joy and confusion that flooded her. Her pussy and asshole burned where he’d so roughly fingered them. The slight pain only made her hornier.
For she was horny again, almost unbearably so. The way he’d manhandled her, the feel of the slave collar around her neck, the crawling, all had their inevitable effect and by now she could feel her wetness starting to coat her inner thighs. Her nipples, still recovering from having been clamped for an hour or more, were hard and throbbing. How badly she wanted him to touch her again, to hold her like he had before… She rubbed her head against his leg, instinctively seeking comfort.
“Sit up and look at me,” he snapped, sounding irritated. Marie rushed to obey him, remembering to spread her thighs, hoping he’d notice and be pleased.
But his voice was cold as he went on, “Now for your punishment.”
She looked so dismayed it was comical. He would have laughed if this hadn’t been an important moment. He had to make good on his promise to make her suffer right away, or she might not take him seriously.
Marie felt her stomach sink. She’d been so hoping he’d take her in his arms, hold her down and fuck her thoroughly. Hadn’t he punished her well enough for her two transgressions? She’d thought the panties over her face and in her mouth, the clamps on her nipples, being left uncomfortably bound and alone in the bookstore hallway had been her punishment. What had she done now?
As if reading her thoughts, he was saying, “I think you learned your lesson about following my directions precisely, and maybe even about coming without permission.” He paused for effect. “But you’ve completely neglected to thank me for your gift.”
Marie’s hands flew to her collar and grasped it tightly, afraid he might take it away from her. An instant later, however, she threw herself down, her forehead touching the tips of his shoes and her palms to the floor on either side of him. “I’m so sorry, Master,” she said to the floor, “I didn’t mean to be ungrateful.” She raised her face to look up at him. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered, “for the most wonderful, precious gift I’ve ever been given. I know I don’t deserve it, especially now when I’ve been so thoughtless.” She rose up onto her knees and seized his hands. “Please, please punish me, Sir, as I deserve.” She released his hands and prostrated herself before him again.
He was glad she wasn’t looking at him, because he was a little shocked. He never expected her to attain this level of submissiveness this soon. He didn’t know if she was just being clever, trying to think of the right things to say to mollify him, or if she really meant it—but either way, it was an impressive apology. It also made him hard as a rock.
He stood up and said, “Get up,” and to his relief his voice sounded disgusted. She rose shakily, keeping her eyes downcast. He studied her face for a couple of seconds but he still couldn’t tell if she’d been sincere in her apology or what she was thinking. Well, in a few minutes all her thoughts would be focused on the pain of her ass.
In truth, he wasn’t angry with her, or even really disappointed—she’d learn. But he’d been waiting all evening to really enjoy his new little submissive, and now his body was straining to possess her. “All right, princess,” he said finally, indicating the spanking bench. “Climb aboard.”
Marie looked at the contraption with trepidation. He had been sitting on a cushioned platform, about three feet off the ground. To one side of it, about a foot lower, were two skinnier, longer platforms, about two or three feet apart and angled outward. On the other side were another two platforms, a little shorter and about shoulder-width apart. An intimidating collection of straps and cuffs dangled from several points.
Satisfied that she’d figured it out, Marie gingerly approached the bench. Kneeling carefully on the long padded rests, she aligned her hips with the middle platform and bent forward until she could place her forearms on the arm rests. As soon as she was in place, her instincts screamed at her to jump up and get off this thing. She’d never felt so exposed, even when she’d been bound and naked in the parking lot earlier. She started to tremble. Why, once he strapped her down he’d be able to do anything he wanted to her, and she would be helpless to resist.
He, on the other hand, was delighted with the way she looked on the bench. His friend Theo had adjusted it to his specifications earlier that evening, and her petite frame fit perfectly. Her arms were supported from her hands to her elbows, her legs from her knees to her ankles, while her small bare feet hung in the air off the end of the leg rests, her toes pointing at the floor. The main platform supported her hips and stomach, but her breasts hung free, almost beckoning him to do things to them. The arm rests were low enough that her ass was pointed enticingly upwards, while her legs were kept spread and angled apart, giving him access to her crotch and inner thighs. His heart pounded at the sight, and he knew she’d look even sexier when she was strapped down.
With that thought in mind, he began to efficiently fasten the straps and cuffs to her body. There were cuffs for her ankles and wrists, pinning them securely to the arm and leg rests. Additional straps went around the backs of her knees, her arms near the elbow, and her waist. He pulled them all very tight, knowing that when he was done she wouldn’t be able to so much as wiggle. When he was done he stepped back and looked at her, slowly circling her helpless form. The black cuffs and straps contrasted delightfully with her pale skin, the dusky pink color of her nipples and pussy also standing out. The angle of the leg rests pulled her buttocks and pussy lips apart slightly and tightened the skin over the whole area, making it more sensitive to punishment. He swore he could see her pussy twitching, clear moisture seeping slowly and steadily from it, making her plump labia look shiny and enticing. It was a vision.
He stepped around to her front, where she kept her head down, her hair falling around her face. “Look at me,” he commanded and she did, her wide eyes and flushed cheeks betraying her nervousness and her arousal. “Do you remember reading me your favorite book last night?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her stomach tightening as she wondered where this was leading.
“In that chapter, what happened to the princess?’
“She—she was sp-spanked, in the tavern in the inn,” Marie stammered.
“Spanked with what, princess?”
Her heart pounding, Marie struggled to get her voice to cooperate. He reached out and pinched one of her sore nipples. When he started twisting it, she finally cried, “A—a paddle, Sir!”
He released her nipple, saying, “That’s right.” He smiled wolfishly, adding, “I’m sure you can guess what’s going to happen to you.”
He took a step towards her, adding, “But not just yet.” He reached out and smoothed her hair away from her face with his hands, pausing to massage her temples gently with his thumbs, soothing her. “Not…just…yet,” he repeated softly, as if to himself. He opened and unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his thighs. Then he took his cock in his hand and began to rub it across Marie’s face.
“Mmmm…” His eyes were intense, his expression deeply focused as if he was an artist and her face the canvas he was painting. Sometimes he used just the very tip to make delicate little patterns around her eyes and other times he would press its entire length against her face, seizing her head and grinding it roughly back and forth against him. Marie knew she had to be utterly still, to continue to meet his gaze, even though she was dying to take him into her mouth, especially when he began to rub the head across her lips.
She got her wish, although not in the way she had hoped, when he used his hands to pull her jaws apart and shoved his cock into her mouth–as if she were not a person at all, nothing but a convenient hole for him to fuck.
His face was as cold and dispassionate as his movements were brutally lustful. He pushed his cock down her throat and held it until she began choke and gag, then withdrew just long enough for her to gasp for breath before pushing into her again, over and over.
Marie whimpered, tears running down her face, as she choked and tried desperately to relax her throat enough to accommodate him. Her body of its own accord writhed helplessly against her bonds until she felt as if every muscle was about to be torn loose. And her pussy…oh god, her pussy was dripping!
At the very edge of her peripheral vision she could still make out his face during those few seconds when her head wasn’t being forced up and down on his cock. She saw his eyes blaze and his jaw tighten and knew instinctively that he was about to come. So when he pulled out of her mouth and released his grip she raised her eyes to his, holding his gaze as he reached his orgasm and with no more than a single grunt of pleasure began spurting his come onto her face.
Thankfully, he missed her eyes, but Marie could feel the globs of come sliding down her cheeks and forehead. Bound as she was, she couldn’t wipe it off. But he had no intention of it coming off, she realized as, recovering himself, he used his thumbs to gently, carefully smear the deposit across her face, rubbing it into her skin.
“Maybe this time you’ll remember not to wash your face.”
Tears filled Marie’s eyes at the thought of having the sticky residue of his come on her face for hours, days maybe, but she reveled in his cruelty—now only wishing he’d get on with it and fuck her as roughly as she was longing for him to do. But he was going to paddle her first.
He had refastened his pants and walked away, out of her sight. She could hear him touching something on one of the store’s racks. Her body tensed at the sound of wood knocking into wood; her muscles struggled in vain to close her legs. He came back, holding three different paddles by their handles. He thrust them toward her face, saying gruffly, “Choose.”
The sight of the frightening instruments had Marie flexing involuntarily against her bonds again. All three paddles were made of wood, but their properties varied otherwise. One was long and skinny, about an inch thick, with holes bored through it at intervals. The second was broader and shorter, with a long handle. She looked at the third one with distaste. It was dyed a lurid purple color and the paddle at the end of its long handle was shaped like a heart. She remembered vividly her spanking from last night, so she had some idea now of how painful a spanking could be, but that had just been with his hand. This had to be much worse. She wished she had some idea of which would hurt the most. She wished she could read his mind. Was there one he wanted her to pick?
It was taking her too long, she realized suddenly, frantically, just as he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head up and back. “Didn’t I tell you I expect instant obedience?” he growled, and she hastened to say, “Yes, Sir, I’m sorry… the middle one.”
Without releasing her hair, he brought his face close to hers and said, “Beg me to punish you. Be specific.”
Marie gulped. She squirmed nervously against the straps. “Please…” she whispered, then paused and took a shaky breath. “Please punish me, Sir, for… for forgetting to thank you for my gift.” Her eyes closed as she braced herself for the rest. “Please paddle me, Sir.”It hardly gets better than this, he thought as he watched her pretty, expressive face, still shiny with his come; saw the eager, apprehensive look in her big green eyes as she begged him to hit her bound, defenseless body with a wooden paddle. He was glad he’d fucked her face just before; otherwise, it would be a struggle not to take her right now. She was so tempting when she begged.
But first things first. He dropped a kiss on her forehead, murmuring, “Good girl,” then released her hair and stepped around to her rear. He dropped the other two paddles and hefted the one she’d picked in his hand. He wondered if she knew that the longer handle would allow him to swing with more force.
Marie hoped he wouldn’t make her wait forever like he had the night before… but as soon as she completed the thought she felt the smooth wooden edge of the paddle stroking her inner thighs, which were spread and stretched by the spanking bench.
He slid the side of the paddle up against her pussy, making sure to stroke it over her clit, then back up between her buttocks and over the little star of her asshole. He loved the way she gasped and squirmed in her bondage. He’d pulled the straps so tight she could hardly move, only her head remaining free. He stopped teasing her with the paddle, stopping only a moment to notice the gleam of moisture on its surface, and said loudly, “Now, since you obviously need some instruction in manners, princess, I think it’s appropriate for you to thank me after each swat. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Sir,” came her quiet, strained voice.
The next sound that came out of her mouth was a yelp of pain– “OWWwww!”–followed by the hiss of her breath through clenched teeth. He had given her no warning whatsoever beyond the whoosh of the paddle just before it struck and she’d been completely unprepared. Oh christ, it had hurt much more than any of his previous spankings. And he was just beginning.
Even though she was still gasping with pain and shock she forced herself to speak. “Th-thank you, Ssssir,” she whispered. “Thank you for p-punishing m-” The second blow cut her off before she could finish, making her head jerk back, and before she could lower it he had seized her by the hair again, yanking it tightly in his fist. “Speak up, you lazy fucking whore!” he yelled.
“Y-y-yes…YES SIR!” She spoke so loudly that her voice echoed in the empty store. She sobbed a couple of times, then continued. “THANK YOU FOR PUNISHING ME, SIR!” Her scalp was on fire, her ass…her…oh god, her pussy was literally throbbing, she could feel it! Then, before she knew what she was saying she burst out, “PLEASE PUNISH ME SOME MORE, SIR!”
If he’d had any remaining doubts about her sexual nature, they were eradicated by her surprising plea. He’d been a little unsure about how she’d take those first couple of blows—they were delivered at about eighty percent of his strength, hard enough to slam her hips forward into the padded bench. The skin on her ass was already glowing a lovely shade of red. But she was enjoying it—glorying in it, even. She looked so incredibly sexual right now. Her eyes were closed so that her long lashes fanned out over her cheeks; her head was drawn back by his grip on her hair, exposing the smooth lines of her throat and accentuating the slave collar she wore; her breasts with their swollen tips were thrust forward as her back arched. There were little beads of sweat at her hairline. His innocent little submissive—she was lost in pleasure as he punished her.
He released her hair, taking a step back for better aim. “You greedy slut!” he growled, a touch of humor in his voice, but she didn’t notice it, too busy absorbing the blow that followed his words. And then another, before she’d managed to choke out a thank you. As she started to gasp out the words, he swatted her again, and she lost her breath. Finally he paused and she cried out, “Thank you, sir, thank you thank you!” She didn’t know if he was counting, but Marie wasn’t taking any chances.
He dropped the paddle and put his hands on her ass cheeks, feeling the heat of her skin. He ran his fingernails lightly over them and watched her struggle in her bonds, her feet flexing helplessly. “Tell me you’re my slut,” he ordered, his voice roughened by his burgeoning arousal. He looked at her asshole, exposed and surrounded by the bright red skin of her ass. He eased his thumb into it, unable to resist.
Marie moaned at the invasion, her ass clamping down on his thumb as her pussy clenched involuntarily, grabbing at the empty air. She’d die if he didn’t fuck her. “God, yes, I’m your slut, Sir, I’m your slut!” She almost screamed the last words. “Please, please fuck me! Oh, fuck me, Sir, PLEASE!” She pictured him standing behind her, between her helplessly spread thighs, looking at her, casually raping her ass with his hand. She heard him unzipping his pants again and strained against the strap, trying to push her ass back towards him in invitation.
He positioned his cock, leaned over her and got a grip on her hair again. “Don’t you dare come,” he snarled close to her ear, then drove into her in one hard thrust.
It was impossible. Marie screamed as his cock filled her all at once and she tumbled into the most intense orgasm of her life. Her body thrashed against her restraints as of she were having a seizure or receiving a huge electrical shock. She screamed again and again. It was too much and it went on, wave after wave, for so long that she was almost afraid that he had somehow triggered an endless orgasm; that she would continue to come like this until she died from it.
He held himself perfectly still, his hands resting lightly on her hips as she jerked and gasped and screamed beneath him. He had been reasonably sure that she would be unable to stop herself from coming, given how utterly, mindlessly aroused she was—which was why he had told her not to, of course. But he was slightly shocked by the how quickly it had happened and by the incredible intensity of her orgasm.
Eventually, though, she settled beneath him and became still. Her breath, still coming in sobs at first, slowly quieted and her head hung down as if she had fainted. Only then did he withdraw his now somewhat softened erection and stand. He tucked himself back into his pants and closed them up again.
He stood for a moment looking down at Marie, pinned like a butterfly on the bench. His. He leaned down and, even though he was fairly sure she wouldn’t feel it, placed a tender kiss at the base of her spine before turning and walking out of the room, returning moments later with a cup of water.
He walked to the front of the bench, where she still lay only semi-conscious, her head lolling slowly back and forth, her sweat-soaked hair hanging in limp strands around it. He let her rest a little longer, waiting until she showed signs of stirring before seizing her hair again, lifting her head up and dashing the water into her face.
As she gasped and spluttered he leaned down, put his face to hers and said harshly, “I told you…not…to…come!” He waited until her still-startled eyes focused on his before adding, “You are going to learn to do as you’re told if it takes all night!”

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