Archives for category: Erotic Stories

Annabelle’s bonds were removed and the white latex clad slave helped her to her feet as Annabelle adjusted to the feeling of her swollen labia and all of the little padlocks that were now weighing it down. At the same time, two female slaves had released most of Christian’s bonds while two male slaves carried a solid looking spanking bench onto the stage. Christian looked at it with a combination of fear and trepidation. In a different environment he actually could have found the bench and the thought of being secured to it quite exciting but he knew this was not going to provide him with that feeling.

Just to reinforce his fears, the Chateau’s main Discipline Domme stepped onto the stage. Mistress Debra was known for her sadistic enjoyment of turning the butts of recalcitrant slaves to a bloodied mess. She was dressed head to toe in black leather. Christian estimated her age to be about 40 and she had somewhat of a Rubenesque figure, buxom and full bodied although she held herself well. With long dark hair tied back in a pony tail and dark lipstick and eye makeup, her appearance was quite severe and if Christian was not locked into his chastity tube, has feelings towards her appearance would have been obvious to all. Her black trousers were high waisted and framed her butt perfectly without being figure hugging. They gave her ample room to move. Over the tops of her legs she wore thigh high boots with 4 inch heels. She had a lace up corset style top that complemented her body and her ample breasts. Full length leather gloves topped off her outfit.

She did not look at him, instead greeting Maitresse Donna and the other members of the council. She was carrying a quiver with a number of canes in it or different sizes and materials. She was drawing each one out and testing it in the air as she walked around. Already Christian was becoming alarmed at the hiss most of them made as they cut the air. The two female slaves released the last of his bonds and with each of them holding him firmly by the elbows he was taken to the spanking bench.

“Now rest your upper body along the top of the bench,” one of them ordered.

He complied as they continued to hold him. He noted that his position was relatively comfortable. The bench had a shaped end frame for his head to rest in. He noticed the top of the bench narrowed in the middle which left his nipples exposed and vulnerable, a fact that he would have confirmed before long. As he was getting used to his new bench, each arm was pulled down and extended to the end of the bench where leather cuffs were quickly secured to each wrist and then clipped to eye bolts on the frame of the bench. Instinctively he pulled back and found that there was very little room for movement. He then felt the first strap being fastened around the top of his left thigh. This was quickly followed by his right thigh. As he was contemplating the ramifications of this, he felt a much wider strap being pulled down over his lower back, pulling him down snugly into position. This was followed by yet another strap that came down over the back of his head, pulling it tightly down against the padded sides of the head rest. Once again he tested his bonds and found that he had no movement of his torso or head available to him at all and all he could do was to move his lower legs back and forth a little. There was no give anywhere else. Finally, two other straps were fitted to each leg, one just behind the knee and one over the ankle. As these were pulled tight, all possibility of movement was removed for Christian.

Finally Mistress Debra approached him, standing directly in front of him, he could only look down, literally seeing her from the crotch down. She stood there with her legs slightly spread, holding an acrylic cane across her thighs. Absurdly, the first thing that entered Christian’s mind was to wonder if she was going to get physically aroused by what she was about to do to him. He tried to put the thought out of his mind but in his current position, with his eyes pointed directly at her vulva, his imagination was running over time.

“Slave Christian, You have been awarded a punishment of 50 strokes of the cane. I will deliver those strokes although I may choose to invite others to participate in the punishment. You are to thank me after each stroke and request another. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress”, he replied. “I understand. Thank you Mistress.”

“This punishment will break you, Christian. You will be shown no mercy and if you are incapable to thanking me and requesting another, we will pause until you can. Believe me when I say that it will be easier for you to get this over with as soon as you can.”

The reality of his situation was now really dawning on Christian and he felt ……….. what did he feel? It wasn’t so much nerves but he realised it was raw fear. Here he was in front of a mixed audience and males and females, Mistresses and slaves and he was just being warned that he was about to be broken by a sadistic disciplinarian. He shuddered at what was about to occur but he braced himself.

Mistress Debra moved off to one side to prepare for the first stroke and there he saw Annabelle standing in front of him. She was now in a black leather bra and panties and he could see the still large bulge of her swollen labia and the rings and padlocks that were maintaining her chastity. He did not know this but in the time he had been focussed on Mistress Debra, Annabelle had been given the opportunity to cover up and then briefed on some actions she could take to partially redeem herself as a female member of the Chateau. She was being given the opportunity to re-assert her female dominance over Christian as he received his punishment. She squatted down in front of him, her legs spread wide as she looked him in the eye.

“I will help you through this, slave Christian, if you ask for my help.”

Christian realised he would need all the help he could get to help him through this and as strange as it felt for him to ask, he said,

“Please will you help me, Ma’am?”

His voice was quivering and she could almost smell the fear in him. It was then that the first stroke hit home. He heard the whistle of the cane but before his brain could process what it was, it had made contact with his butt. There was the initial impact, followed a split second later by the burning after bite. Instinctively he screamed, then said,

“One, thank you Mistress. May I have another?”

The words had no sooner left his mouth when the second stroke was delivered.

“Arrggghh. T-Two thank you Mistress. May I have another?”

He was struggling against his bonds now despite knowing the futility of it. His butt was on fire after only the second stroke and he still had 48 to go.
THWACK! “Aaarrrgghhh.” Annabelle reached out and grabbed his hands, squeezing firmly.

“Count and thank your Mistress, slave,” she said softly but firmly to him.

“Three, thank you Mistress. May I have another?” his voice was shrill as the pain of the third stroke coursed through his body.

Mistress Debra then moved to the other side of the spanking bench, selecting a thinner, whippier acrylic cane. Standing with her legs spread the steady her, one hand on her hip, she lined up her target and………….. Thwack, Thwack, Thwack, Thwack, Thwack in very quick succession. Christian screamed and tears coursed from his eyes. He was struggling violently to move his body to get it out of the line of fire but He had no latitude at all. He was sobbing loudly.
The hands holding his were providing some comfort and through his pain and tears he heard, “Four, five six, seven eight. Say it, slave. Thank her.”

Before he got the words out he was hit with another two in quick succession.

“Nine, ten. Thank you Mistress. May I have more?”

Annabelle looked at his tear streaked face as he continued to sob.

“You are doing well, slave. Not long to go. Be strong.”

Her words were getting through the pain and provided him with some strength. She released his hands and reached back, grasping his nipples and squeezed them firmly. In his heightened state, he could only feel pleasure from there, fighting against the burning pain from his butt. He was perspiring, his skin covered in a sheen of fear and pain induced sweat. He could vaguely hear the tap, tap, tap of her heels on the floor as Mistress Debra re-positioned herself.

He awaited the next onslaught………………..

Part 74

As she moved, Mistress Debra had drawn another cane from her well stocked quiver. This time it was a thicker rattan cane that would deliver a more solid, less stingy blow. When it came, it was more of a hard thud, quickly followed by the burning pain that accompanied a stroke of the cane.

He moaned and said, “Eleven, Thank you Mistress. May I have another?”

Just as the burning hit, Annabelle rolled his nipples quite harshly and the strange feeling of pleasure acted to counteract some of the pain from his butt. Although he didn’t know it, Mistress Debra now had beads of perspiration on her brow. She was getting into her rhythm and was feeling the familiar feelings of sexual pleasure that accompanied such a session as she had a helpless victim taking her pain. She felt a little rush as she brought the cane back for the next stroke.

The next five strokes were evenly spaced down Christian’s butt from the top, right down to the sweet spot at the top of his thighs. His pain wracked brain wondered, as it had in the past, why they called the top of the thighs the sweet spot as for the recipient, the pain there was anything but sweet. A combination of endorphins and Annabelle holding his hands, encouraging him and stimulating his nipples, helped him get through these strokes. The next four strokes shook him out of his developing sub space as Mistress Debra continued her strokes down his thighs until she stopped a few inches above his knees. He did not know it at the time but her perfect positioning had left equally spaced parallel welts that would result in deep bruising. Finally he managed to get the words out although his voice was more detached than it had been earlier – “Twenty thank you Mistress. May I have more?”

Mistress Debra stopped and he could once again hear the tap…tap…tap of her heels as she moved around the floor. Annabelle had released his hands and moved to one side, giving them a final squeeze as she did so. He became aware that Mistress Debra was now standing in front of him in her classic pose, legs spread slightly and with the cane held across her thighs, her hands holding each end. Through his pain and tears, he thought he could see blood on the rattan but he could not be sure. It would not surprise him if his butt was already a bloody mess but he had no way of knowing.

“Slave, I now intend to share your punishment with other members of the Chateau community but before I do, you are to kiss the cane.”

She placed the cane under his mouth and he dutifully kissed it a number of times, continuing until it was withdrawn.

“Firstly, Annabelle will deliver the next 10 strokes as part of her redemption.”

Christian was shocked by this but not totally surprised and he wondered how she would deliver the blows. He certainly did not expect any mercy from her.
Annabelle selected a cane and positioned herself beside Christian. She knew what she had to do and she was also aware that if she didn’t do it with an appropriate intensity, she would suffer the consequences. She swung the cane back and forth a few times to get the feel and Christian heard it whistle through the air. Mistress Debra pushed a hard rubber mouthpiece through and into Christian’s mouth.

“You may need this, slave,” she said, evenly. Christian then heard the whistle of the cane once again and it was followed by the thud as it hit his butt, quickly followed by the searing pain that followed. Before he could even respond or try to say anything around his gag, the second blow followed. He was literally screaming from the first one as the second one hit home. This one was followed by the third, fourth and fifth in quick succession. He was wildly thrashing around within his bonds with what little movement he had available to him and it felt like his whole butt was on fire.

“Well done slave. You are half way.”

It was Mistress Debra once again. Strangely though the haze of pain, her words gave him some comfort. He was just beginning to process that when the next blow hit, again followed quickly by the remaining four. He was beside himself with pain and his muscles were aching all over as he wore himself out in his futile struggle to avoid the blows. He heard it just before it hit as the cane whistled through the air one more time. Annabelle, without prompting, had drawn the cane back one final time and in a full round house swing had delivered her final blow. She then stepped back around and resumed her position in front of him as Mistress Debra moved away. As she grasped his trembling hands she whispered,

“That was fun, slave. You took them all very well for me. I am proud that I could help repay some of what you have helped me achieve earlier.”

There was a pause as the first member of the audience approached the stage to deliver a single stroke. She had her own slave in tow and after she had delivered the stroke, she handed him the cane and ordered him to deliver the next one. He dutifully complied while at the same time, Annabelle was firmly holding Christian’s hands. She hoped he was going to be able to last through to the end and she hoped, for his sake, that the remaining blows would be delivered quickly.The remaining members of the audience filed through, each delivering a single stroke. Christian was now dripping perspiration and his whole butt was a bloody mess. As each stroke hit home, he twitched and moaned. Occasionally there would be a little spray of blood but he was beyond knowing what was happening back there. Occasionally he would receive a misplaced stroke across his thighs that would elicit a slightly elevated response but in the main, he was totally exhausted and quite beyond any sort of significant response.
Eventually the last blow was delivered and Christian lay there limply. Annabelle was taken away by her Mistress and Christian was vaguely aware of her black panty clad butt disappearing from the stage.

The straps securing him to the bench we released but still he did not respond in any meaningful manner. He was aware that Mistress Sarah was in front of him and he tried to respond to her presence. She gently lay a hand upon his head and said quietly, “Don’t move slave. We will help you back to the dungeon.”

The next thing he knew, he was being lifted from the bench and was placed gently face down on a stretcher. He knew he was being moved but had no idea by whom or to where. He eventually came to and realised he was back in the dungeon and securely in his cage. Mistress Sarah was reaching through the bars, washing him down with warm water. Eventually she began cleaning his bloody buttocks and thighs, gently cleaning the whole area with a warm antiseptic solution. She also gave him some painkillers and a powerful sedative to help him sleep.

When he eventually stirred, he was surprised as he opened his eyes to find that Mistress Sarah was sitting beside his cage looking in upon him was a look of real concern on her face. It was only then that the pain in his buttocks and thighs registered with him once again.

“Welcome back, Christian”, she said, smiling in at him. “You have been asleep for over 20 hours now and I was beginning to get worried. I want you to know that I was extremely proud of what you endured yesterday. You should also know that the caning was not meant as a punishment per se. Everything you did with Annabelle was actually sanctioned by us and neither of you were in real trouble however we have to be seen to be maintaining the standards of the Chateau and hence you needed to undergo the trial and its outcomes. It will take you a couple of weeks before you are fully recovered but when you are, I have a special treat planned for us.”

With that, she was gone and Christian was left to ponder what she had just said to him and what lay in the future.

Natalie luxuriated in his tender touch, trying to process the difference between the severity of his spanking and the tenderness of his touch afterwards. She was still frustrated by him interrupting the orgasm that she was about 3 seconds away from having, by her calculation. At the same time she was still in that heightened state of arousal that was not going to go away any time soon. ‘Why does this feel so right?’ she thought to herself.

Releasing his leg, she gingerly rose to sit on the chair. As she did so, she pulled her panties from the crack of her butt and repositioned them in the correct place. She was surprised at the amount of heat that was radiating out from her abused butt. Lowering her skirt, she was about to take her seat when Sir James took her hand.

“Stop.” He rose and reached for a pillow, placing it on Natalie’s seat. “You may need this.”

“Thank you, Sir”, she said quietly. “And thank you for punishing me.”

She sat, instantly grateful for the pillow as her butt was extremely sensitive. She did not know what to do or say and so she sat there, eyes downcast with her hands in her lap. She was not unhappy or sad; in fact she was exactly the opposite. She adored simply being in his presence. Dipping the end of his handkerchief in a water glass, he reached over and wiped the tears from her face before crooking his finger under her chin and lifting the head.

“Natalie; that was not a punishment. You will get no enjoyment if I ever choose to punish you. It is not something that I usually do.”

“Well, if handcuffing me, holding me over your knee and spanking me until my legs were wildly flailing and I was crying was not punishment; what was it….. Sir?”

“Ahhhh, you neglect to mention that you were dripping with arousal as well. What I was doing to you was just me taking some pleasure from your company. I was simply dominating you and encouraging you to submit. That it caused you some pain was only a simple by-product. If you accompany me to the dungeon later, you will suffer some more, I can assure you. But in watching your responses to date, I think you will enjoy what I do. You will be willing to surrender to me.”

Natalie was shocked to realize that every time he used a word such as dominate, submit or surrender, she had a combination chill and thrill ripple through her.

“Would you like me to remove your collar, Natalie?”

Her eyes widened as she absorbed his words. “I….. why…… no Sir. Have I done something wrong?”

“Not at all my dear. In fact you have submitted to my total satisfaction but you indicated on your arrival that you were ……… unsure.” His chin was resting on his steepled fingers as he looked at her.

“I loved both the roses and the collar however the locking mechanism on the collar just seemed so final. I am still trying to understand where we are going. You affect me like no other man ever has and, quite frankly, it scares me. At the same time it excites me more than I have ever been excited in my life. At times I just think you are an arrogant bastard but I seem to have this inability to resist seeing what you are going to do next. It is obviously no secret to you about the physical effect you have on me and sometimes I curse my body for making it so obvious.”

“I’ve noticed that you have quite the potty mouth when you are upset, Natalie.”

“I……. I…….sometimes words slip out that I wouldn’t normally use.”

“Next time you call me a prick, I want you to remember to call me Sir Prick, or ideally Master Prick! If you don’t, I will cane you for your indiscretion and lack of respect. I have been quite tolerant of you to date as you have been learning your place.”

Natalie could feel herself blushing and her anger was rising. It seemed like, despite her baring part of her heart to him, he simply ignored it, remaining focused on his own thoughts. She pursed her lips and said,

“Learning my place? Just what is my place in your little kingdom?”

“It’s not what I want. It’s what you want and what you need. You want to submit to me. It excites you to have someone like me take charge of you; to get you to do all sorts of things that ‘nice girls’ don’t do. As much as it galls you, you need me to dominate you. Even as I am spelling this out to you, your excitement level is building. What would I find if I put my fingers inside your panties right now? They were wet before. What are they like now, Natalie?”

He was looking at her with a slightly bemused look. Natalie tried to maintain eye contact with him but she couldn’t do it. She knew that what he was saying was true but she just couldn’t bring herself to admit it to him. It scared her to think that he knew the workings of her mind better than she knew them herself. It was like he was inside there, just reading her every thought. The silence was deafening. Eventually Natalie heard a questioning, “Hmmmmm?” from Sir James and she finally found the strength to speak.

“You know I am dripping wet right now. Somehow you seem to know all my thoughts before I even develop them. It excites me and scares me at the same time”, she said softly.

“Quite so”, he replied simply. “Now, for the collar. I will unlock it before you leave here this evening. You will keep it – it is a gift but I will not keep it on you until you ask me to. If you choose to lock it back in place, I will be honoured by your commitment. There will be a number of things you will ask me to do over time and each of them will demonstrate your further commitment to me. I intend to pierce different parts of your body, just as I intend to explore different parts of your body but this will only occur when you are ready. You may even get a tattoo at some stage.”

Natalie was shocked at what she was hearing. She looked at him, her mouth agape. ‘The hell you will’, she thought to herself but even as she had the thought, she could feel her arousal building. She looked at him to see a smile forming.

“Come. We shall visit the dungeon. My sling has been lonely.”

‘Oh my God! I probably could come if he ordered me to at the moment’, Natalie thought to herself.

Producing a blindfold, he slipped it over her head and tightened the elastic straps, pulling the soft padded leather against her eyes, holding them closed. He then produced a leash and clipped it to the D-ring on her collar, took her hand and helped her to her feet then without waiting for a response, he led her down the passage. Although her hands were free, she followed meekly along behind him, her head abuzz as he kept the tension on the leash. ‘Why do I find his treatment of me so fucking exciting’, she wondered to herself?

Arriving at where she assumed the door to the dungeon was, they paused. She heard what sounded like a lock click, followed by a door opening. ‘That sounds so medieval’, she thought to herself. A tug on the leash and she took a few more steps before they stopped once again and the door clicked shut.

“Hands behind your back.”

As she complied she felt a sharp tug as her tube top was pulled down, exposing her breasts. It came all the way down to the top of her skirt. He heard a sharp intake of breath as she realized what had happened. Her nipples hardened before his eyes as she struggled against her natural reaction, which was to use her hands to cover her breasts. He watched as she struggled against the urge then just as she had herself under control she felt warm breath on one nipple. She was instantly alert to what might happen next. She did not know exactly where he was and her head moved back and forth trying to sense his position. The next thing she knew, his body was against her. His arms went around her and she felt his nails raking down her back. She felt a tingle right through her body as he worked his way slowly down her back. He was scraping her skin just hard enough that she did not cry out, but it was enough to bring her whole body alive.

“Oooohhhhhhhhh”

“Yes, Natalie. We are going to have some fun”, he whispered in her ear, his voice low and husky.

Releasing her, he lifted her arms and removed her tube top. Then he undid her skirt and removed it, supporting her as she stepped out of it.

“Stand with your legs spread. I wish to admire you.”

“Yes Sir”, she whispered.

Natalie parted her legs. She imagined him standing in front of her, admiring her panty clad body. Her hands were back behind her once again which only served to thrust her breasts out more proudly. Standing there in pumps also served to paint her in a beautiful light. He cupped her Vulva with his hand and rocked it back and forth until her felt Natalie weaken, an “Oooohhhhhhh” escaping her lips.

“Now we will remove those panties Natalie before I secure you in the sling. Bring your legs together.”

She did so and he gently pulled her panties down, cupping her butt and rubbing it gently. Natalie could feel the tenderness from her earlier spanking and let out a little groan. He then helped her step out of them before he grasped her by the collar once again and led her the few steps over to the sling. Positioning her in front of it, he took her arms and eased her back into it, the cool leather soothing her butt as she relaxed. She lay there in the silence of the dungeon wondering what he would do next.

“Hmmmm. You have not shaved for me before visiting this evening!”

“But…… You told me not to touch myself, Sir.”

“I did, however we cannot have you looking less than your best. I will have to take care of that for you. You will then receive three strokes of the cane for your efforts.”

“But Sir…………..”

“Shhhhhh, Natalie or I will gag you.”

Her mind in turmoil, Natalie did not know how to respond. This was a most unexpected turn of events. Although she was not aware of having done anything wrong, she assumed she was about to be shaved and then caned, neither of which she had experienced before. She trusted Sir James to take care of her but at the same time she found herself trembling at the thought of what was going to happen. This feeling was exacerbated as she felt the first cuff closing around her ankle. She heard the sound of the buckle before feeling it pull snugly around her ankle. The second one followed shortly after and her leg was lifted and attached to the ceiling chain. Her original leg was then lifted and she felt her legs being spread, fully exposing her to whatever Sir James chose to do with her as her second leg was attached it its own chain. She could feel the cool breeze on her butt, realizing that it was now exposed as well.

Sir James then took one of her wrists and she felt the soft leather embrace it as the securing strap was tightened. Her arm was then drawn up and clipped to the chain. The process was repeated for her remaining wrist and before long she was secure. She realized her breathing rate had increased as she lay there wondering what would happen next. Straining to hear what was happening, she eventually felt movement between her legs.

“Open your mouth Natalie.”

As she obeyed she felt the material filling her mouth, quickly realizing Sir James was putting her wet panties into her mouth as a gag. He didn’t force them all the way in however and she could feel them resting over her mouth and nose, smelling her own sweet smell of arousal and downright lust.

“Do not let them go, Natalie.”

As she was processing the last instruction, she felt a pulling sensation at her labia. As it intensified, she let out an involuntary grunt. Then there was a sharp pain and she squealed though her gag.

“This might take a while if I am going to pluck them all out, Natalie.”

The process was repeated and again there was a grunt and a squeal. Natalie was shaking her head back and forth, willing Sir James to stop. He withdrew her gag.

“Do you want me to stop removing your pubic hair like this Natalie?”

She was not quite sure how to answer as she knew enough about Sir James now to realize she could be stepping out of the fry pan and into the fire. While she was considering her answer, she felt the same process occurring and as the third hair was pulled from her labia, she blurted out,

“Yes, Sir. Please stop.”

She was forlornly trying to close her legs to give herself some protection as she twisted and turned in the sling, all to no avail.

“Ok my dear. I will have mercy on you.”

She felt the blindfold being released and as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the dungeon, she was horrified to see Sir James standing there with a cut throat razor in his hands, the blade glistening in the light that was focused on her pubic mound.
He was smiling at her as he said, “This is always a much more effective way or removing unwanted growth, my dear.”

Natalie could only stare, her eyes open wide as she wondered how this was going to work out, knowing that she was helpless to control its outcome…………………………………….

“Oh God, fuck me,” she said. “Somebody fuck me.” She lifted her ass up in the air and wiggled it as she crawled. “I need a good fucking in my cunt so bad,” she purred. “Please.” She crawled over to my crotch and began to sniff at it, rubbing her body along my legs as she crawled around me, sniffing.

Hettie was in a frenzy. She pawed at my thighs and began to rub her face against my cock whimpering all the while for her release. Her lips traced the outline of my straining cock over and over again. I’d never seen a woman so worked up and eager before. I closed my eyes, enjoyed Hettie’s warm breath, and tried to forget where I was and why I’d come.

“Mr. Hoyt, if you don’t have any suggestions for Hettie, allow me” the doctor offered. I didn’t want to move or bring this moment to an end just yet so I simply nodded. The doctor sat quietly, hands steepled under his chin, lost in thought for a moment. A smile ran quickly over his mouth than vanished just as quickly. He gave a small nod as if in agreement with some internal dialog only he was privy to and addressed the girl.

“Hettie, attention.” the doctor said curtly. Immediately she released me, sat on her heels and placed the palms of her hands on the tops of her thighs. Hettie continued to take in haggard breathes, but she didn’t move, and her eyes never looked away from my crotch.

“ Now Hettie, we’re going to work on oral conditioning again in conjunction with a bit of expression and vocalization work,” the doctor began to explain. “Only this time Mr. Hoyt and I will be working together to really push your therapy to the next level. Do you understand?”

“Yes Doctor,” she replied flatly.

“Excellent. Now Hettie, you will treat any suggestion Mr. Hoyt presents to you as if it were my own. Is that understood?”

“Yes Doctor.”

“Well then let’s begin. Unfasten Mr. Hoyt’s pants,” the doctor instructed. Hettie reached forward and tried to undo my button, her haste made her fingers clumsy.
“Stop,” the doctor commanded, “Slowly, Hettie.”

She dropped her hands to begin again. The doctor looked on with the intent professional gaze one would expect from a therapist, but there was something barely hidden just under the surface. Something dark. Something hungry. Hettie did as she was told. She slid her hands up my thighs slowly, just brushing her fingertips across the thin fabric. As her hands reached my bulge, she flipped them over and traced the outline of my cock gently with her nails. At last she unbuttoned my pants and pulled down my fly with much more frisking then was necessary. However, instead of reaching in and releasing my cock, she sat back on her heels placed her hands on her thighs and returned to attention.

“Mr. Hoyt, I want you to understand that a part of Hettie’s therapy is to foster a sense of sexual independence. In previous sessions by trial and error and process of elimination we have worked to identify the things that Hettie finds most sexually desirable. Now that Hettie is aware of what she wants it is up to her to see that her needs are met. From this point on all the pleasure Hettie receives she must ask for explicitly. It would be best to prompt her throughout the session. Ask her what she wants to do, how she is feeling, that sort of thing. Keep her engaged and expressing herself. The more talking she does the better for her therapy over all. You may begin whenever you’re ready Mr.Hoyt.” The doctor finished, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands across his abdomen. I cleared my throat.

“Hettie,” I began. I wasn’t sure what I was still doing here or why I was taking part in this corrupted excuse of a psychiatric practice. I reached down and lifted her chin, and as our eyes met I saw the hunger and passion inside her. I could see that she wanted this and that was more than enough for me.

“What do you want?” I asked her gently. She paused for only a moment then in a husky voice replied,

“I want you in my mouth.”

“Hettie,” the doctor interjected in a stern voice, “Tell Mr. Hoyt exactly what it is you want.” She glanced to the doctor for a moment then dropped her gazed. Her cheeks burned red with embarrassment.

“I want your cock in my mouth,” she mumbled to the floor. I lifted her chin once again and looked into her glazed green eyes.

“What was that?” I prompted.

“Please Mr. Hoyt, may I have your cock in my mouth?” Hettie pleaded more urgently.

“Yes you may.”

Hettie reached inside my clothes and extracted my swollen dick. She started stroking my cock, but only for a moment. Hettie leaned forward and with one long lick, ran her tongue slowly from the base of my shaft to the top. She held my cock with both hands and kissed the tip meekly and reverently. I closed my eyes and felt Hettie’s tongue exploring the head of my cock. She teased me with her lips, swallowing the tip then pulling her lips back again going further down my cock each time. When Hettie reached as far down as she could, she tightened her lips around my shaft and sucked hard, pulling my dick out of her mouth with a loud satisfying pop. She looked up at me with those big green eyes and smiled, so pleased with herself. I grabbed her cheeks in my right hand and leaned in close.

“Do you like sucking my cock, Hettie?”

“Mmm, yes Mr. Hoyt. I love sucking your cock”

“Good girl. Now open,” I said. She immediately complied. I placed both hands on either side of her head and slowly shoved my swollen shaft down her throat. I picked up speed, entering her mouth faster and faster. The room filled with the wet gurgling sound of my cock hitting the back of her throat. Finally she pushed my hips away to take a breath. A trembling string of thick saliva hung from her bottom lip. Hettie wiped her lip, catching all the moisture, and used it to stroke my cock while she caught her breath.

“It feels so good when you fuck my mouth like that,” Hettie offered unprompted.

“Yeah? You want more?” I asked her. She nodded eagerly and guided the tip between her lips and began corkscrewing her mouth up and down my cock. She took all that she could, then pulled up again releasing my dick with another loud pop and deviant smile. Hettie dove in again, this time fucking her own mouth on my cock. She braced her hands against my thighs and rocked forward and backward on her knees. I caught her head on a down stroke between my hands and held my cock deep in her mouth for several moments. Her fingernails began digging into my legs and rippling muscle spasms shook her curvy frame. Finally I released her, and though tears ran down her face a look of triumph filled her eyes.

“What do you want?” I asked her again.

“I want you to fuck my pussy Mr. Hoyt,” Hettie responded dreamily.

“Come here.”

I gripped her upper arm and helped her to stand. With a hand between her shoulder blades, I guided Hettie to the edge on the doctor’s desk. When the tops of her thighs touched the desk, I pressed my hand to her back, folding her forward. She reached her hands across and gripped the opposite side of the desk just in front of the doctor. With one hand still pressed gently on Hettie’s back, I slipped the other down between her legs.

Hettie sighed as I slid my fingers between her lips. Her slit was saturated to the point of dripping. I pulled my hand away from her cunt and spread my fingers wide. They looked webbed with her wet silky cum. After giving Hettie a little taste I worked my fingers through her lips and began rubbing slow tantalizing circles around her clit.

“How is this?” I whispered in her ear.

“Faster, Mr. Hoyt,” Hettie sighed, “Please go faster.” I did as she asked. I rubbed her clit faster and faster. Hettie’s cum dripped down my hand and her hips began pushing back into me. Her breath changed from soft sighs to sharp gasps and throaty moans. Hettie’s hips rocked back and forth fiercely trying to create more friction.

“Oh please Mr. Hoyt!” Hettie begged.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want your cock inside me. Please fuck my pussy now,” she pleaded desperately. I stepped up behind her and guided the tip of my cock to the edge of her cunt hesitating only a moment before slowly driving my dick inside her. Hettie’s entire body tensed as I entered her. A groan of satisfaction escaped her lips as I pulled out completely and plunged my cock into her again and again. When my cock hit the back of her pussy Hettie arched her back and let out a sharp cry of pleasure.

“Oh fuck! Your cock feels so good deep in my cunt.” Hettie whimpered.

“Very good Hettie,” the doctor praised, “The louder you are the better it feels. You understand?”

“Oh yes, Doc…oh!”
Hettie’s reply was choked off in her throat as I began fucking her faster. I pulled her back onto my cock deep and hard and every time I hit the back of her cunt she screamed louder and louder. Her cum dripped down my thighs and I could feel her strong muscles squeeze around my cock as the waves of pleasure rippled through her body.

“Oh yes! Fuck my pussy. That’s it. Oh, your cock feels so good inside me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, I want to cum so bad! May I please have it now? I need it! Oh please give it to me!”

The doctor stood up out of his chair and lifted his foot to the top of the desk directly in front of Hettie’s face. She grabbed it immediately with both hands and began to lick it frantically. The doctor gripped a handful of her hair at the base of her skull and pulled back so that he could see her face.

“Are you ready?” he asked her calmy with dark shiny eyes.

“Mmhmm, please make me cum!”

“Cum,” he commanded her.

Hettie’s mouth opened wide in a silent scream as her orgasm overtook her. Her hands clenched tight around the doctor’s shoe and her pussy clamped down even tighter around my cock. Her orgasm was so strong it carried me right along with it. Hettie’s body jerked and trembled as I came inside her. I leaned forward and rested my head on her shoulder for a moment. The doctor returned his foot to the floor and smoothed the hair out of Hettie’s face. He leaned in close to her ear almost as if he would kiss her, but instead he simply said,

“Sleep now.”

All tension from Hettie’s body vanished instantly. Her breathing slowed and became tranquil. She had the full appearance of a deep sleep. I stepped away from the girl and rearranged my closed as the doctor sat back down in his chair.

“We accomplished a lot today, Mr. Hoyt,” the doctor began to say, “Hettie’s really had a breakthrough today, and you were a major part of that. How would you like to come back next week? I think it would be good for her therapy”

“Yeah,” I said slowly, “ I think I’d like that very much”

“Great! I’ll see you next week then, you can leave your information with the receptionist out front and we’ll be in touch. Hettie’s got a bit more time left in her session here so you can see yourself out.”

With that the doctor turned away from me and began whispering things into the girl’s ear that I was too far away to hear. I turned and left the room much more quietly than I had entered it.

The way your wrist wraps around the length of my hair, securing it in your fist as you tug, pulling my posture taut. The way your breath heats my ear as you groan softly, tongue pulling my lobe between your lips. The way your hand brushes against my naked rear at a furious pace, as you stroke yourself. The way your voice quivers when you whisper how badly you need me. The way your fingers dig tighter into my hair as I can sense you getting close to releasing your need on my back. The way your tone of your voice teeters between seething madness and depraved addiction. The way my palms rest obediently on my knees, my skin prickling as it feels the heat of yours behind me. The way your weight feels as your chest is pressed against my back, shivering and quaking as you gasp, grunt, and feverishly stroke yourself to climax atop my arched-out rear. The way your breath draws sharply. The way your viscous gift makes me tingle as it drips down. The way your head lulls onto my shoulder, teeth gently sinking into my skin as the pleasure rolls through you. The way you primally grunt and tighten your bite with each small shock of ecstasy that rocks you. The way you whisper, asking me what I’m doing to you, as you slowly release my hair, and my neck, from your hands and teeth.

The way you so carefully reassemble yourself as you pull away from me, still desperately trying to slow your breathing and calm your body. The way you leave the hidden room to return to your day. The way that power and control can be such an illusion, from those on top to those on bottom. The way I know that you will find and fetch me in three hours, pull me into this room, and indulge, furiously, again.

Nature has begun the transformation of the leaves. The heat of the day is driven away by the cool of the night. I pull the light jacket over my sweater to shield myself from the chill. Swaying back and forth in the porch swing…waiting for him. I hear the boots on the hardwood floor as he moves closer to the front of the farmhouse. The front door opens then the screen door and he is standing there. He looks at me sternly. “Come with me,” he says. “Yes Sir,” I answered as I got up from the swing and followed him to the barn.
He is mumbling to himself as he opens the barn door and stands aside to allow me to enter. He shuts the door and turns on the lights illuminating the interior. Along the right the four stalls with the horses in them. To the left is the Tack Room and next to that a section with bales of hay stacked. I stand in the middle and take in the sweet mixture of the hay and animal scents. The horses sense something. They stir a little and I realize he is talking to me. “Did you hear me?” he asked. “I’m sorry Sir,” I said. “You forgot to give them water today,” he growled. My heart beat faster. The horses moved about their stalls. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Sir,” I pleaded. “Come in here,” he ordered as he opened the door to the Tack Room. He pulled the chain on the lone light bulb and left it swinging. The light of the dangling bulb moved back and forth showing the various saddles on sawhorses, long lines, bridles and other equipment and ropes. I usually loved this room. The smell and feel of the leather always soothed me deeply. Tonight I knew it was about to be different.
“Remove your clothes,” he ordered. “Yes Sir,” I replied. I removed my jacket, sweater, boots and jeans and put them on a chair and turned to him in my panties, bra and socks. “The rest of it too,” he grumbled. “Yes Sir,” I removed the rest and threw them on the chair. He kicked a box over to one of the tall sawhorses with a saddle on it. “Stand up there,” he said. I nervously stood up on the box as he grabbed a length of rope from the wall. He began to tie my ankles together as I stood there. When he was done he moved to the other side of the saddle and reached across and tied my wrist together. Then another rope attached to my wrist rope and pulled me over the saddle tying it to the stirrup on that side. He went back around behind me to the other side and tied the ankle rope to the stirrup on that side. Then he went underneath and tightened me across the saddle by tying the stirrups together underneath. My heart beat fast and knew I was about to pay the price for not doing my chores.
I heard the water running in the pales as he watered the horses. I knew he was taking his time with them to cool down so he wouldn’t punish me in anger. But my punishment was coming. I heard him coming back in and the door close. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him remove a bridle from the wall and wrap one of my socks around the bit. He came around and pulled my head up by the hair and put the sock covered bit in my mouth and ran the bridle over my head behind me.
He pulled the leather straps and brought my head up as the first stinging line of the crop hit my cheeks. I yelled through the sock as he steadily whipped me with the crop. The tears ran down my cheeks as he pulled the bridle back and gave me my stinging lesson. When he was done he took the pressure off the bridle but did not remove it.
He moved around in front of my face removing the bit and said, “You’ve had your punishment and I’ve done your chores. Now what will you give me in return?” he asked. “Anything you wish Sir,” I replied. He unzipped his pants and pulled it out and lifted my head by the hair. I took him eagerly in my mouth until he grew thick and hard. He pulled out replacing the bit and moved behind me. I felt the bridle tighten and the bit pulling back in my mouth as he entered me. He rode me hard and slapped my cheeks making me wetter for him. The smell of the leather, the feeling of being under his control took me to my orgasms. As we came together he struck my cheeks with the leather straps and I screamed through the bit.
The next day I smiled as I watered the horses and every day after.

[BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! ]

You hate Las Vegas right now.

You grope for the alarm clock, but it’s not on the hotel nightstand. You hid it last night, so you’d have to get out of bed to turn it off. There it is, on top of the TV. Shit, shit, Shit! It’s already 9:45, and your flight leaves at noon!

O God! You feel like someone hit you over the head with a margarita machine. You stagger to the bathroom, stopping to kick your idiot boyfriend awake. He watches hopefully as you get in the shower, but you’re in no mood for a quickie. You tell him to go find you a tee shirt and your grey stretchpants, and pack everything else in the suitcase. You’d think he could handle such a simple task … but no. When you get out of the shower, you see he’s laid out a tube-top (Hell, no!) and your old silver disco-pants (WTF!)

You explain those are not the stretchy grey pants you meant, and that he is a fucking moron. Just to make sure he understands, you throw your wet towel at him. He dodges it, and it knocks over the room service tray. A stale rainbow of beer, salsa, guacamole, and tortilla chip crumbs from last night gets dumped right into the open suitcase. Everything inside is soaked. Fuck!

Now you have nothing to wear. Nothing, except the stupid disco pants, which probably won’t even go on. WTF were you thinking to even pack them? They were skintight the last time you wore them, and that was Halloween. Before Thanksgiving. And Christmas. And Superbowl Sunday. And now Las Vegas, where you’ve spent all week playing slots, pigging out at the buffet, and guzzling beer. Son of a bitch!

They go on. Barely. It takes you and your idiot boyfriend twenty minutes to stuff your fat, fat ass into these motherfucking disco pants, and it feels and sounds like they might explode at any second, but they are on. You tell him you will castrate him in his sleep if he gets a hard-on, but he has one anyway. Good, because he’s not getting any for the next month! Idiot!

He puts shoes on your feet and helps you slide off the bed. You hear threads popping, but somehow you make to your feet, out of the room, down to the lobby, and onto the airport shuttle without blowing a seam. Thank God they let you ride standing up. You don’t know what the hell you’re going to do when you have to sit down on the plane. You’re just praying the fabric will stretch out by then.

God, you hate McCarran Airport. Your flight is going to leave in thirty minutes, and you’re not even through the security line. You can feel everyone staring at your dangerously overstretched pants, including your idiot boyfriend behind you and the TSA creep at the checkpoint ahead of you. You make him get in front of you, blocking both their views.

Finally you make it to the checkpoint. Your idiot boyfriend makes it through, and now it’s your turn. You put your purse in the bin and start to walk through the metal-detector, when the TSA creep blocks your way.

“Ma’am, I need you to take off your shoes and place them in the bin as well.”

Is he fucking kidding?! There’s no way you can bend over to undo the straps, and your idiot boyfriend has already disappeared through the metal-detector.

“Um, I … can’t bend down. Could you undo them for me?”

“No Ma’am. If you can’t or won’t remove them, we’ll have to detain you for a full search.”

Fuck that! You’re NOT going to let them take you to some windowless room for a grope-down. “Ok, ok, give me a minute!”

Shit! How are you going to do this? You can’t bend over forwards or you’ll bust the zipper open. You try curling your leg backwards, but you can’t raise your foot high enough to touch your shoe behind you. You’ll have to bend your knees and crouch down as carefully as you can.

Slowly, carefully, your fingertips make it to your knee, your calf, just above your ankle, and … VRRRRIIIIP-PP-PPP!!!!

GOD DAMMIT!!! The entire back seam of your pants bursts wide open. A cool gust of air refreshes your fat exposed ass-cheeks. Everyone behind you is howling with laughter, and you hear cellphone cameras clicking. You angrily unbuckle your shoes and throw them into the bin. You hurry through the metal detector and slump against the nearest wall.

At least your flight is delayed. You have enough time to send your idiot boyfriend to the gift shop. He brings back a Las Vegas beach towel, large enough to wrap around your fat ass and hide your busted-open pants. You make it to the departure lounge without any more disasters. You’ll be home in a few hours, you will go straight to the gym tomorrow, and this will all stay here in Vegas where it belongs.

seeping through forbidden cracks
exposing self to the unknown world of pain and pleasure
longing for acts of taboo 3 times before… Why
or do I belong?
kneeling and nestling between Sin & Morals
leashed to Desire and satisfaction
Boldly Demonstrating Slavery to the Master of pen and flesh

entering a space where freedom reigns
submission to the mind and body
fingertips gently grazing necks, backs and legs
searching for answers of fetish needs that lay dormant waiting to erupt to the surface in climactic explosions requiring one to sometimes be controlled and bound

some say ultimate trust
others say ultimate risk
relinquishing rights totally for the sake of pleasing and pleasure
for others and yourself
i have been awakened from a self stimulated sleep of a normality that never existed