paddling

I awaken just as you come into the room with my breakfast tray. I see you are wearing your special uniform of fuck me heels, short, short skirt, a see-through top tied just under your breasts and your “CUNT” collar. You look like the horny slut you are and more.



I get out of bed, walk to the bathroom with you trailing behind me. You take off your clothes and lay down in the tub, I place my feet on either side of your body and crouch slightly as I let loose with a hot stream of pee. I piss over your entire body and notice your pussy is already puffy and glistening with your juices already. I make a mental note to ask you about this later.



After I finish relieving myself on you, I grab a handful of your hair and grind your face into my pussy, I tell my little white cunt, “Lick me until I cum, bitch.”



You start moaning like a whore in heat and I catch you fingering your already wet snatch. I give myself over to the orgasm racking my body. I then proceed to brush my teeth as you take a shower to prepare yourself for round 2.



As I finish up my breakfast in bed, you walk in clean and freshly dressed.



I ask you, “What you were doing this morning?”



You reply with a nonchalant “nothing Mistress”.



I tell you to take off your clothes and go to the ball in the corner and assume the position. You beg for my forgiveness, as you lay across the ball and I chain your hands and feet down. I pull out my favorite paddle, the one with the tiny rounded nubs on the surface and proceed to spank your lying white ass with abandon.



“I swear I will be a good slave!”



“I will always ask permission to pleasure myself!”



“Please Mistress, I will never lie to you again, I promise!”



I laugh at you as you raise your ass to meet each smack of the paddle.



“You’re a pussy licking slut who should know better than to lie to your mistress, who is smarter and wiser than you.”



After I have thoroughly showed you I am not to be taken for a fool, I gently caress your very red and hot ass cheeks. You make small sounds in your throat and I see you grinding your pussy into the ball, I slap you on your ass signifying the punishment isn’t over yet. I grab a handful of clothes pins and start attaching them to your nipples and pussy lips. You cry out in pleasure pain, your pussy really starts flowing with your juices.



You continue to whimper and beg for forgiveness. “Shut your mouth or I will stuff a gag into it!”



You shut up immediately, knowing I am losing patience with your whimpering. I pull out a strap-on from the ‘toy chest’ and hunt for a few special toys, just for your sorry ass. I find what I am looking for and suit up for a little fun. I come to stand in front of you and you lift your head to see me wearing the big, fat red cock with the ripples and ridges on it. Your eyes take on a gleam, knowing you are about to be used for my pleasure.



“Open wide slut, suck my cock just like a whore.”



You don’t even hesitate; you just start blowing me like a bitch in heat, slobbering all over my cock getting it good and wet for your pussy.



I pull out of your mouth, “Don’t expect any gentleness, only good little slaves can be made love to.”



“Bad slaves get fucked as rough as her mistress deems necessary.”



You stutter out a, “Yes Mistress, anything you say.”



I walk back to your red, imprinted ass and pull on a few of the clothespins hanging from your pussy lips, then give you a couple of swats on your ass again, you moan over and over again.



I wrap my hand tightly into your hair, pulling your head backwards to me and then I ram the cock as far as it will go into your pussy.



You start moaning loudly, I slap your ass cheek, “Shut the fuck up or I will gag your filthy ass!”



You tone it down somewhat, but I am fucking your cunt with abandon and you are on your way to one of the cums of your life.



Just as you are ready to go over the top I bend down and whisper in your ear “If you cum I will beat the living shit out of your pathetic, trashy white ass bitch.”



You grit out a breathy, “Yes Mistress.”



I see you trying so hard not to cum, that I pull out of your hot pussy with an evil grin. I walk back to face you and ram the cock down your throat and make you suck my cock clean of your juices. I am somewhat satisfied with your performance so far, but there is more to come.



I fuck your mouth like I fucked your pussy, hard and without mercy. You are trying your best to blow me, but drool is sliding out the sides of your mouth and you are gagging every so often when I slam into the back of your throat.



“Deep throat my cock you horny bitch!”



“You know deep down you’re a little slut whose sole purpose in life is to please your mistress, whatever that entails.”



You are so obviously grinding your drooling snatch on the ball that I bring your attention back to the top of your body by grabbing the clothespins on your tits and pull them away from your body tightly. You try to scream, but that is difficult with a mouth full of cock.



I resume my position behind you and wrap my hands in your hair once again. I ram the red cock as far as I can into your dripping snatch. You scream out and writhe as much as the chains will allow.



“Stop moving slut or I will beat the shit out of you!”



I pull your hair tighter and keep pounding you hard, you are moaning uncontrollably as I slap your ass cheek.



“Are ready to cum bitch?”



You scream, “Yes Mistress, please let me cum!”



I laugh wickedly, “If my trashy whore cums before I grant her permission, she will rue the day I became her mistress.”



“Please Mistress, I beg you to let me cum!”



I simply reply, “I don’t think you are ready yet, whore.”



I stop fucking your nasty cunt and start working my cock into your tight asshole.



“Mistress please, your cock is too big to fit into my small ass!”



I just laugh at your complaints as I continue to stretch your asshole.



“I can see your pussy is still dripping its juices, so it can’t be hurting that much.”



You won’t shut up so, I pull out of your ass and go and get the gag that is shaped like a cock.



I push the red cock into your mouth, “Clean your ass juices off my cock, cunt.”



Once you have sucked the cock clean, I shove the cock gag into your mouth and buckle it shut.



“Since you can’t seem to understand what obedience is, I am going to have to ravage your holes with the biggest cocks I can find.”



“Not being able to sit down for a few days, should be a good reminder of who’s in charge.”



I take off the red cock and pull out a new toy you haven’t seen yet. It’s called the DP monster, because it is huge, black and scary looking; the cock for your pussy is 9 inches long and thick, the cock for your ass is 7 inches long and 2 inches wide. Both have life like veins and nice fat mushroom hoods on them.



After I am ready, I stand in front of you showing off the treat in store for you. Your eyes get big and you try to speak, but that is hard to do with a mouthful of cock. I grab some lube for the ass cock and put on just enough to coat the tip, why make it easy for a disobedient slave?



Your eyes implore me not to fuck you with that monster strapped to my ample hips; I slap your face and laugh at you.



“Stupid cow, you should have thought about the consequences, before you lied to me!”



“You’ll love having your holes stretched to their limits with fat, black cock.”



“For my own pleasure, there’s a special nub on the inside of the strap-on that rubs against my clit, I can cum numerous times while I fuck you.”



I grab a handful of hair and whisper in your ear “You will cum only when I tell you to and not a second sooner. Is that clear, bitch?”



You nod your head in understanding of my command. I walk back around and grab your hips; I line up the DP Monster to your ass and pussy.



My hips surge forth in one swift move, impaling you on my cocks. You scream and thrash, making me cackle with glee.



“Your sorry ass is going to learn, that I am not one to be trifled with.”



I pull almost completely out of your holes, before I plow back in to the hilt. Your muted screams and thrashing urge me on a brutal rhythm.



As I push into you, the nub presses against my clit, sending shivers throughout my body. A fine sheen of perspiration coats my body as I ferociously fuck your pussy and ass without mercy.



Plunging in fully, withdrawing almost completely and then forging my way back in. I feel the pressure in my clit building to a wonderful climax.



Just as I fall over the edge, I scream “You can cum now slut!”



Your pussy juice spurts all over the cock as I ram it home one last time, sliding down your thighs and slowly dripping onto the floor.



As I catch my breath, I unchain your hands and feet; then unbuckle the cock gag. I slowly withdraw the Monster from your holes, amused to see your ass gape is red and raw.

The young slave girl Adria wept silently as she stood naked, her hands clenched behind her neck, on the raised platform in the centre of the crowded dining hall. Her pretty face was wet with tears, which welled ceaselessly out of her enormous blue eyes, presently containing the most woeful of expressions. This did not detract, however, from the general perfection of her features: naturally red, pouting lips, soft cheeks, fine thick black hair, and a small but extremely shapely body, with perfectly formed petite breasts, a flat stomach with a cute navel, slightly full thighs, small hands and feet, and plump round buttocks. The latter retained a pink glow from the chastisement they had received a few minutes earlier in the room of correction.



It was the rule at the compound that after a whipping, the errant slave must stand naked, injured parts on display, in the public space, for the remainder of the day. This served as an additional penalty — public humiliation — as well as a warning to the other slaves about the consequences of inappropriate behavior. Weeping bitterly as she was escorted from the Mistress’ place of correction, Adria gently soothed her burning skin with her fingers.



Pushed on to the platform, rather than keeping her fingers entwined behind her neck she attempted to allay the pain of her bottom with soothing palms. Her soft little hand was promptly seized by the Mistress’ aide and struck sharply with a cane. When Adria shrieked at the sharp agony and instinctively thrust the burning palm beneath her armpit, her other hand received the same treatment. The intensity of the sensation and the fear of repetition made her comply; the passing slaves, carrying trays of food, watched curiously as she stood trembling in correct posture, the tears flowing more than ever.



More than one of the slaves — female as well as male – looked admiringly at her perfect buttocks, whose tender skin was streaked and reddened by the paddle that had been employed on them. Her nipples, too, were somewhat aflame; her soft little lower lips, sweetly shaped and completely nude, glistened slightly with moisture. Few of her fellow domestics, however, openly gloated over her very public exposure. In the household, bitter chastisement could descend on anyone, sometimes for the most innocuous of offenses; something of which the slaves were well aware.



Earlier in the day, Adria had been sent to work in her Ladyship’s rooms, where her dainty ways and appearance created a favorable impression on such guests of the household who chanced to enter. Adria’s innocent appearance, however, concealed a fervently passionate, if inexperienced, nature. For some days she had been exchanging admiring looks and supposedly chance brushes with another young slave, a handsome 18 year old boy with smooth skin, dusty blonde hair and liquid brown eyes.



That morning they had been left alone to work in the “royal suite”. Almost immediately the boy had boldly seized her by the hips and made to kiss her exquisite lips; after a momentary hesitation Adria opened her mouth and sucked on his tongue passionately. Groping and caressing each other, their desires became inflamed; they both gasped in pleasure as the other touched their most sensitive — and hitherto mostly unexplored — secret places. The boy enthusiastically caressed Adria’s vagina and ass and inserted two fingers to manipulate her soft, sweet, rapidly soaking inside; Adria had freed the boy’s stiffened cock from his clothing and was tenderly massaging it, fascinated by its life and smoothness. Almost instinctively she fell to her knees and opened her virgin mouth to absorb and caress this wonderful object, filled with life. It was then that disaster struck as the steward entered the room on a chance errand. Stern hands drew them forcefully apart, and the dreaded sentence was pronounced: “Take her to the Mistress. I’ll deal with this young idiot myself.”



Transported by strong hands briskly along the cool passageways of the compound, Adria had time only to review, stunned and alarmed by the sudden events, what she had heard of the mistress. She had seen other young women stand naked in the dining room, their backs and behinds vividly striped. Her sweet flesh cringed as she imagined the sharp pain of the whip on her tender bottom. The guards quickly stripped her and wrapped cords around her wrists. Her arms were drawn upwards and her nude body was completely exposed. A cloth was placed over her eyes; she stood trembling in anticipation, helpless and utterly vulnerable.



Her senses made more acute by her fear, Adria felt that a young woman had approached her. A musky perfume, mingled with a not unattractive odor of sweat and other secretions, drifted across her consciousness. She felt a delicate touch traverse her slender back and rest on her plump, inviting buttocks, holding her firmly. Then a sudden fiery agony assailed her. Her soft nipple had been gripped by some kind of metal instrument, and sharply squeezed. The metal teeth stabbed her sensitive nerves in a pain she had never before experienced. The pain eased, then was inflicted again, this time accentuated by a clever twist and pull of the implement. As she squealed in pain and surprise, she heard a delighted laugh come from her assailant.



Adria writhed helplessly as her tender nipple was again bitten deeply. She began to plead and beg, which met only with more laughter. Her nipple received yet another vicious bite; then she felt the metal withdrawn. She gasped in relief, only to produce a shriek of surprise and pain as her other nipple was excruciatingly addressed. For a seemingly endless period, her nipples were alternately subjected to these agonizing attentions. Then she felt hands tying her ankles, fastening them to the place she stood so that her legs were parted. Immediately a new agony shot through her; her tormentor had applied the sharp toothed instrument to the tender folds of her pussy, which she probed and tweezered carefully for what seemed a wretched eternity.



At last the pain ceased. Adria was gasping, weeping, and sweating all over her beautiful body. Her blindfold was removed; she saw the smiling face, beautiful but sinister, of one of the dreaded Mistress Akume’s Nilotic-featured, Amazon handmaidens. She began to plead with this intimidating figure but her nose was promptly seized in a firm grip, and when her mouth involuntarily opened to take a breath, a leather ball was thrust inside and fastened tightly behind her neck. She could not speak or move; she watched spellbound as the other young woman, gazing with an air of amusement and anticipation into the bound one’s frightened eyes, went to a rack of instruments of chastisement, from which she selected a lithe cane.



The cane flicked across Adria’s exposed buttocks. A pink welt sprang up as the girl let out a muffled shriek; the cut had burned like fire. Perhaps this was deemed too severe an instrument, because the amazon girl replaced it in the rack with an air of disappointment. She lighted on a flat wooden paddle; grasping this, she whisked it through the air several times. Apparently satisfied, she walked behind the helpless girl and disappeared from her view. Adria felt her touch the paddle to her bottom, which still burned from the single cut of the cane. A sound of rushing air, a sharp impact; and a flaming pain erupted in her buttock as the wooden paddle, skillfully wielded, cracked against her soft flesh.



The paddle struck her repeatedly; several times in the identical spot, producing a crescendo of painful sensation, then on other parts of her unprotected rear. She writhed frantically and screamed through the gag; this slowed not a whit the steady series of impacts on her rapidly reddening buttocks. Each measured impact left the mark of the paddle imprinted on her pale flesh; the glow faded momentarily, only to be replaced by a new mark. Her tormentor exhibited a fiendish talent in piling pain on pain, repeatedly smacking the same tender place; Adria was almost hysterical as the agony increased, without a moment’s surcease.



Her convulsing bottom and squirming hips did not affect her chastiser’s aim a whit; the sharp impacts arrived on their chosen target with steady consistency, while the inflicter of pain dispassionately observed the effects of the punishment; albeit with a certain excitement, demonstrated in her erect nipples and quick breathing. Rather than lessening as the punishment took its course, her strokes seemed to increase in their intensity; finally, her victim’s tender flesh glowing a roseate hue, she relinquished her instrument of chastisement. Her victim, crying almost silently, slumped in her bonds as the skin of her buttocks flamed brightly.



Her assailant, skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat, stepped to Adria and stroked her flaming posterior affectionately, following it with a sharp pinch that brought a squeal from the helpless girl. Adria’s plump nipples, pink from the attentions paid them, were softly squeezed. Fingers gently petted her labia, skillfully locating the slave’s clitoris. Despite her sufferings, Adria felt a warm glow pervading her private parts; as the amazon caressed her, she began to breathe fast, and a flood of warm liquid spread through her pussy.



Another set of fingers caressed her bottom, circling her little pink asshole; this produced a further glow of pleasure, and the bud swelled and opened slightly, inviting penetration. Impaled both fore and aft, she felt the fingers inside her begin to rub the wet membrane separating her anal and vaginal passages. She squirmed in pleasure; the glow on her buttocks seemed to enhance the delicious sensations. The long strong fingers inside her continued their work; her gag was removed and she began to gasp as the stimulating delight took her.



Full lips were pressed against her soft mouth, and a tongue thrust into her; almost without thinking she began to suck and stroke the intruder with her own tongue, stimulating it with great delicacy, licking it and drinking the saliva that dripped from it. She was given up altogether to her partner, opening herself to the maddening caresses and moving to bring them deeper inside herself. The Amazon began to pant hoarsely, and pressed her pubis against Adria, rubbing against her rhythmically. Their gasps of pleasure accelerated; almost simultaneously they climaxed, Adria slumping sated and surrendered in her bonds.



Adria spent the afternoon naked on the platform, her bottom flaming, cringing in humiliation as her fellow slaves milled around the dining area. She did not dare relax her posture, and did not see her erstwhile partner. She would have liked to feel his warm concern, and hoped he had not suffered too severely. Nevertheless it was certain that he had paid a similar price for his transgression. At last she was bidden to leave her place of prominence, and to obtain her evening meal. Wishing to avoid any attention, she ate quickly and lightly before joining the exit to the slave sleeping quarters.



A sharp tap on her shoulder intercepted her; once again she was bidden to the Mistress’ rooms. Her heart sank; was she intended for more punishment? The skin of her bottom, somewhat calmed, flamed into painful life in anticipation. Reluctantly — but knowing that any disobedience would be fatal — she turned down the long, shadowy hallway, her heart beating quickly and fearfully.

After rummaging around the kitchen, Amy found all the fixings for a nice roast beef and cheddar sandwich on rye with lettuce, tomato, and some kind of fancy German mustard. She figured she couldn’t go too wrong with the items Patrick had bought for himself. “Coke or beer?” she called out cheerfully.



“Coke with lunch. And get yourself one too. And a sandwich.” Patrick flopped down on the sofa happily. It had been a good hour, and the afternoon showed every sign of being just as much fun. Amy came out of the kitchen with a plate and a coke, having decided sensibly to serve Patrick first, rather than juggle two plates and two cans of soda. Seeing her, Patrick had to suppress a whistle. Bare from the waist down, her pubic triangle was a nest of soft, red silk over long, firm legs that seemed to go on forever. Her purple halter lifted up her breasts, presenting them, and she was wearing a very sexy smile. She bent over sensuously and deliberately in delivering his lunch. Holding the pose, she looked up at him and licked her lips once before straightening up and returning to the kitchen.



Patrick patted the couch by his side as she returned. “Sit and tell me about yourself while we eat. We hardly know each other.” He smiled and took a big bite of his sandwich.



“Delicious!” he mumbled. An hour later they had established that Amy’s major flaws included a love of pop music and reality TV. Patrick liked football, baseball, and hockey, all incomprehensible to Amy. They shared an interest in clubbing, Amy a little more than Patrick, and he resolved to outfit her in style. Abruptly, he switched gears.



“Amy, have you ever been spanked before?” His question caught her off guard and she blushed.



“Yes, uh, yes. By my Dad mostly. He, um, he uses a paddle.”



Patrick frowned slightly and glanced to one side. “You did a lot of carrying on when I spanked you, so I wondered.” He shrugged slightly.



Amy turned a deeper shade of red, looked down, and bit her lower lip. “Well, I’m a screamer. Maybe you noticed?” She looked back up at him and smiled mischievously. “You don’t need to let that slow you down.”



Patrick returned her smile, but still looked serious. “Amy, you asked me to whip you, so you’ll know what it feels like. You put it in the lease. That isn’t something I demanded, except to keep you in line if you are extremely misbehaved. You haven’t done anything wrong, except for the business about being late and that was properly dealt with. Are you sure this is what you want?”



Amy looked back at him, still smiling. “I want you to know for certain that you have the right to. It isn’t just words on paper. And . . . I’m curious. More than curious. It’s a fantasy.” She held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I know when you started writing my lease, you were making it up as you went along and you didn’t know if I would go for it. Maybe you thought I wouldn’t. But I keep my word.” She spoke seriously and with conviction. Then abruptly she giggled. “Well, except when I say I’m going to be at your apartment at eleven.” She looked back at him seriously again. “You should keep your word, too. Whip me!”



Patrick smiled back warmly. “You’ll probably regret saying that in a few minutes, but alright. You want to know what a whipping feels like, eh? I don’t actually own a whip. I haven’t had any real need for one. And you haven’t done anything wrong. So, I’ll give you a tour of the apartment.” He paused for a moment. “And along the way, I’ll whip your tail with whatever I think of. Maybe a few other parts of you as well.”



Amy gulped nervously and then nodded. She looked down shyly and asked “how do you want me to start with?”



“First, stand up. And toss your halter with your shorts. I want you nude.” Amy complied quickly. Her tits stood up proudly even without support.



“We’ll start in the entryway. Come here.” Patrick walked over to the front door. Amy followed, scanning the small, tiled area. There was a ‘welcome’ mat just inside the door, made of bristly brown stuff. A coat closet lay to the right of the door and a small pile of shoes was to one side. To the left of the door was the love seat. She had already been turned over that. Patrick opened the closet and scanned its contents quickly. Maybe he didn’t even remember what was in there? A large, red plastic fly swatter in the shape of a hand hung on a hook at one side. He grabbed it and swished it through the air. So, that would be first, Amy thought to herself. She suppressed a giggle. That thing would probably sting!



“Put your hands on your thighs and bend your knees. Arch your back a little if you can, or at least keep it flat and even with the floor.” Amy got into position, leaving Patrick enough room to walk all the way around her. She was looking down at the floor, bent over. She managed to arch her back a little. It wasn’t very comfortable, but she knew her bottom was stuck out, presented. Her breasts were also squeezed forward between her upper arms, nipples pointing down at the floor and a little forward. She felt very exposed, and realized that was probably the point. Patrick had walked around behind her.



With the first smack of the fly swatter, she released the breath she had been holding. It stung a little, but really it hurt a lot less than his hand. He repeated the smack on her other cheek. That wasn’t bad, she decided. Suddenly he went to town, with dozens of fast light strokes. He alternated cheeks. No one stroke had much impact at all, but the repeated little stings were starting to burn a little. Then suddenly he stopped.



“That was just a small taste” he explained. Then he walked around to her front. He lifted and squeezed her left breast brutally. She whimpered as he began giving her tit the exact same treatment with the swatter. He focused on the nipple, but rained down small smacks everywhere. Just as the burn was becoming hard to stand, he let go and abruptly switched sides. When he had finished, Amy could feel a light stingy burn across her whole chest and bottom. She was also breathing heavily, feeling excited. Patrick replaced the fly swatter on its hook in the closet and studied Amy for a moment. The skin of her breasts and behind was just slightly pink from his efforts. The redness from her earlier spanking had mostly faded over lunch. She was also panting and flushed. He slipped a hand between her thighs to cup her labia. Just as he thought, she was good and wet. He tweaked her clit roughly and she yelped and moaned. He took a step back. “That’s one item down, a few to go. Next, we’ll try a slipper.” He slipped his hand inside the shoe, and placed it flat across one of her thrust out cheeks. He watched her tense, and smiled. She was nervous about this one. He placed his free hand firmly on the small of her back.



Amy felt her bottom explode with pain as he struck her right cheek hard with the rubber-soled slipper, not once, but five times in rapid succession. He had aimed right for the crease between her butt and thighs and it felt white hot to her now. Her first impulse had been to stand straight up, but Patrick’s hand on her back had stopped that. He showed no sign of following up immediately, so she had a chance to recover. She knew that tears were streaming down her cheeks. After what seemed a long time but probably wasn’t, he announced “Now we’ll do the other side.” Before she could even tense, he was raining blows on her left cheek: smack-smack-smack-smack-smack. Then he tossed the shoe back in the pile.



“There are a lot of things in the apartment, so let’s head into the living room. You can stand up when you are ready.” It took Amy a moment to stop sobbing and stand up. Patrick pulled her behind him over to the sofa. He set down and pulled her roughly over his lap. “You’ve already been introduced to my hand, but I think it’s worth revisiting.”



Amy started crying immediately, burying her face into the fabric of the sofa cushion and waited for the hand spanking to start. It wouldn’t be worse than the slipper, she was sure. To her surprise, he didn’t smack her. He was squeezing and rubbing and massaging. And he was being gentle. It took a minute or two, but her sobs turned to moans. Her behind felt swollen and throbbing, but he was massaging out the sting. She lifted her backside up into his hand. She moaned, and his hand slipped in between her legs. Now he was rubbing her clit with two fingers while his thumb had somehow penetrated her, finding her G spot and pressing lightly in circles. “OH! Oh, oh, oh, OH!” She moaned and squealed under his attentions. But before she was anywhere near a climax, his hand was away from her pussy. He inserted his thumb into her asshole without prelude. It was lubed up a little with her juices, but the sudden insertion was still rough and shocking. “You!” she yelped. He chuckled and removed his hand, also lifting her by the waist and setting her up on her feet.



“It’s time to visit the dining room.” It wasn’t really a room, more like a nook between the living room and the kitchen. Amy didn’t see anything there he could spank her with. He certainly wasn’t going to beat her with the candlestick. He pulled out a chair. “Bend over the back of the chair and put your hands on the seat.” He moved off towards the kitchen. “And keep them there.” She heard him running the sink and supposed he was washing his hands. He rummaged about a bit. “Next we have the wooden spoon. Since we’ve already given your butt some attention, I think we’ll focus on your thighs with this one.”



Amy answered him “yes, Sir” resignedly. She was still worked up from the play on the sofa and not looking forward to another round of whacking. He beat a quick staccato rhythm up and down the back of her legs. She was sure he could have hit her with the spoon a whole lot harder, but he was still getting a good swing. As she felt the sting in her ass fading, there was a new burn from the backs of her knees to the tops of her thighs. “Now, let’s move on to the cutting board. This is just a little one, or I wouldn’t be able to swing it. Just three smacks with this I think.”



Patrick examined her for signs of damage. The marks on her bottom had faded to a uniform light red, and her thighs matched. Her chest was barely pink. He decided he could probably go on a great deal without really hurting her. He pressed the cool wood against her bottom, pulled back and let a stroke fly. One moment, Amy was bent over, dreading the smack of the cutting board. The next moment she was howling in pain, standing up straight, rubbing her butt, and hopping from foot to foot. It felt a lot like the paddle. Only this pain was more solid, with a deeper thud. And he swung hard.



“Get back in position!” Patrick demanded.



“Owww…” Amy responded. But she got back into position before he could answer. “I’m… I’m sorry Patrick. I couldn’t help it” she whined. “Do I need to tie you up? Or can you remain still?” His voice was sharp, and Amy trembled a little. Would he beat her harder if he had her tied?



“No, I’ll be good. I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to hurt so much.” She felt she was babbling, in between sobs.



“Alright. Three strokes then. That one didn’t count.”



“Yes Sir.” She sobbed, and gripped hard on the edge of the chair, willing herself to stay in position. The blow, when it came, was as hard as the first. The smack seemed to echo around the room and shatter some kind of tension in her. She jumped at the pain, but then fell back limp on the chair. She could feel her fingers digging into the fabric of the seat. The second stroke fell right across her seat as she was recovering from the first. “Aieeeeee!” she creamed out. Her feet left the ground for a moment and she kicked just to give an expression to the pain she was feeling. She resumed a fully proper position, muttering “ow, ow, ow, ow, ow”. The third stroke fell, and she stayed in place only by an act of will. She screamed, not once but three times, and then flopped limply over the chair. Then she screamed in an entirely different way.



Patrick knelt between her thighs, looking up at her dripping twat. Without hesitation he sucked her clit hard, entirely into his mouth. He wanted to surprise her. He was rewarded when he heard her wail of pleasured shock. He began to lick lazily at her clit as she give small cries of pleasure: “Oh! oh, oh! Oh, Patrick!” He plunged his tongue deep into her, enjoying the taste of her honeyed salt. She moaned. He reflected that she was probably not too far from a climax of one kind or another and gave her pearl a little nibble before withdrawing. He didn’t want to have to punish her because he brought her to orgasm to soon.



Patrick’s voice was calm and a little superior as he rose. “There are all sorts of things in the kitchen to whip you with, but I think we’ll skip the spatulas and so forth. It’s time to visit the bathroom. Come along.” He had to carry her for a few steps before setting her on her feet and leading her by the hand. Amy wiped her tears away and calmed a little. She wondered if he had a hair brush, or a bath brush. It turned out he had both, but she was surprised at the way he used them. He told her to grab the shower curtain rod and spread her legs. Then he smacked her lightly and repeatedly with the bath brush, not just on her legs and the backs of her thighs, but over most of her body. He skipped her neck, face, and back but covered new territory as well as revisiting everywhere that had already been spanked. Still, it was almost like a break. He was smacking so lightly it was almost pleasant. Just a bit more glow and a bit more burn. Then he grabbed a lava rock. “Try not to scream too much” he warned her. He started in on her bottom cheeks, already more than a little tender. The abrasion on her already stinging body was a different kind of torment. Amy gritted her teeth and didn’t scream. But she wanted to. He rubbed all her body except her face with the pumice. She felt as if the surface of her skin was on fire, and she felt completely, totally naked. Patrick picked up the hair brush and smacked all up and down the inside and outside of her legs, her belly, her breasts, and then returned to her ass. Again, none of his smacks were really hard enough to hurt her. They just added slightly to the burning sting.



Amy noticed the feelings started by his tongue were ramping up again, amplified by this new attention. Oh God. He was playing with her so expertly, pain and pleasure and pleasure and pain. “Stand up and turn around” he was saying. Did he have to repeat himself? Amy wasn’t sure, but she obeyed quickly. Patrick looked her up and down and smiled. “We have two rooms left to visit, and I think you are well prepared for some real punishment.” Amy gasped. “Real punishment?” she dared to ask. He just nodded.



“Next we’ll visit my office. I don’t ever want you in there unless I invite you.” He led her from the bathroom into the smaller of the apartment’s two bedrooms. It was dominated by a large desk. A computer covered one corner and the rest was neat, uncluttered with papers or other work. Amy noted with dread that a fraternity paddle hung next to Patrick’s framed diploma. He caught the direction of her gaze. “Yes. Assume the position. That’s bent over the desk. Grab a hold of the far edge. Normally, we’d measure these in the dozens. But since you are just learning what a whipping feels like, we’ll stop at six. But you’ll have to ask me for them. And count them. And I think the line is ‘thank you Sir, may I have another?’, hmm?” Amy bent over the desk, gripping the far edge. She said “Yes, Sir” with an attempt at confidence that was given the lie by the small sob that escaped her throat.



Her universe exploded with pain as the first stroke landed. The first words she muttered were “Oh my God oh my God.” But she gripped tight to the edge of the desk and tremblingly asked for another. She somehow survived the next five, which were no easier than the first. She choked out a last “Thank you Sir” and then went limp sobbing with the pain. Patrick looked at her throbbing, dark red, slightly blistered behind. He took in her sobbing form and wondered if it was too much. She had asked for it, repeatedly, and very literally. He wasn’t sure who this was for. She didn’t seem to be enjoying it, and he could have quit some time ago. She wasn’t wicked. He wasn’t angry with her. She was delightful! So why was this necessary? He gazed at her crying over his desk and was assailed by doubts. But there was nothing to do but go forward.



Amy lay over the desk, feeling shattered by the pain, like a million points of light in her brain. In the strange state in which she found herself, the sound seemed almost as bad as the sensation. It had been so loud, echoing around the room, breaking her. Now she heard Patrick’s voice. It was harsh and demanding but somehow for away. “On your feet. Turn around.” She wondered how many times he had said it. She struggled back to her feet, and stood straight and proud. She turned to face him. His face carried an expression of concern and maybe love? She smiled at him, waiting to hear what he would command, demand, ask.



“Amy, have you had enough?” His voice was so very gentle. She felt that she had more than enough, but it wasn’t for her to say, was it? “That’s up to you, Sir.” She knew somehow that was the right answer, but he wasn’t quite satisfied with it.



“We still have the bedroom to visit. If you are up to it?” He sounded tender and a little afraid. Amy realized he had probably already been more physically cruel to her than he had to anyone in his life.



“Please, let’s go to your bedroom, Patrick?” She was unsure of what she could endure, but she was totally sure of him. He stepped into her and kissed her, oh so sweetly, softly on the lips. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the bedroom. Patrick was more than half in love with this girl, who took all the beating he dished out and asked for more. It wasn’t that she was immune. No certainly not that! It was that she wanted to prove herself, she wanted to submit, more than she was afraid. But what to do next? He ran a hand through his hair, pondering as he led her to the bedroom.



Amy was unconcerned with how Patrick was feeling. The pain in her bottom and in her everywhere had led her to a state of calm, meditative acceptance. Her decision to accept and obey had left her feeling only love and trust from somewhere far away and deep inside. Patrick led her to his bedroom. The room was dominated by his big four poster bed and he was ordering her up onto it, on her knees. Obeying, she distantly noticed the weight bench and the enormous flat screen television. Both were obviously his. He ordered her hands behind her head and her knees spread wide. Amy made sure to kneel up straight so he could admire all of her. He caressed her breasts idly with one finger, making her shiver. Then he was massaging her clitoris with the knuckle of his right thumb. The agonies in his office had dried her right up, but now he was bringing back her need. Very deliberately, she was sure.



Patrick played with his girl, stimulated her, wanting to bring her back a little from the faraway place she had gone. She seemed dazed, and there was little fun in fucking a woman who was gone, and even less point in disciplining her. She began to take interest in his hands, in his thumb massaging between her legs. He didn’t slow, he continued teasing, waking her. When her juices were flowing freely again and she was moaning and beginning to try humping his hand, he knew his work was done. He moved his hand away, bringing forth a protesting moan. He smiled at her, glad she had returned.



Amy felt her burning desire return as Patrick turned her on again. She wondered idly how much more she could take. He could take her, anytime. He could always have taken her. Instead there was this punishment she had asked for. But now he was withdrawing and she whimpered with need. He walked to his dresser, and returned with… shoelaces? Yes, shoelaces. Many of them. he doubled them and doubled them again. He had a fist full of shoelaces. And he was talking about them. “I haven’t yet whipped your hungry little pussy. That will be next.”

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