Posts Tagged ‘punished’

Myriah kneeled down in front of Sarah and put her arms behind her back.

“My good little girl.” Sarah said as she caressed her cheek. Myriah felt the heat building deep in her belly.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Myriah replied. Sarah circled around her, with her riding crop in hand. She gingerly placed it between her thighs to force Myriah’s legs apart.

“Fold your arms and push your tits out. Arch your back, slut!” Sarah ordered from behind, as her crop landed harshly on Myriah’s lower back. Myriah’s straightened herself up with a small yelp. She knew that Sarah would not have that. Sarah reached down and secured Myriah’s mouth in her hand and forced her eyes on her. “Did I say you could make a sound?” Myriah nodded her head ‘no’. “Answer me, you greedy whore!”

“No, Ma’am.”

“No Ma’am, what?”

“No, ma’am, you did not say I could make a sound. Please punish me as you wish.” Sarah smiled a wicked grin.

“Mmm, how quickly you shape up. Let me remind you to always be appreciative of your mistress. That means you say ‘Thank you’.” Sarah said, as she swat Myriah with the crop on the back of her thigh.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Myriah said. Sarah tapped the crop across her ass lightly as Myriah squirmed. She let another hard swat down on her other thigh. “Thank you, Ma’am,” Myriah cried out. Sarah continued to work her way up Myriah’s soft, round ass. She rubbed the leather crop in circles around Myriah’s left ass cheek. She smacked her hard in the center and continued to slap her, switching to her right ass cheek, until both cheeks were pink. “Thank you, Ma’am. Thank you for cropping my ass.” Sarah rubbed the leather into Myriah’s ass crack and wiggled the crop back and forth.

“Dirty little girls need to be punished, don’t they?” Sarah teased, as she rubbed the crop on Myriah’s tender, pink ass.

“Yes they do, Ma’am. I’m a dirty little girl.” Sarah slapped her with the crop.

“Who’s dirty little girl are you, little Miss Myriah.”

“Yours, Miss Sarah.” Myriah breathed. Sarah grabbed Myriah by her braid and yanked her head back to look at her.

“You will call me, ma’am or mistress. Do I look like a pathetic little ‘Miss’ to you?”

“No, Mistress, you don’t. I’m sorry Ma’am.” Sarah let go of her hair.

“I don’t want to hear you talk anymore.” Sarah left and went to the dresser. She opened one of the drawers, and came back with a red ball gag. “This ought to keep you quiet. Then you can think about how to properly address your mistress.” Myriah embarrassingly opened her mouth as Sarah fastened the ball gag around her head. It was large and tasted of rubber. She could not move her tongue very well or speak. All of her sounds were muffled. Her lips spread around the gag and her teeth clenched down on it and the crop began to kiss her ass again with sharp whips from cheek to cheek. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, my dear, in obedience.”

Myriah felt the discomfort in her jaw from the gag, as well as the sting of her skin on her backside. She tried her best to keep still. The ball began to get moist and saliva leaked out of her mouth and on to her chest. Myriah tried to clean herself up but it was useless. Sarah walked around the front of Myriah and began to rub her wet saliva over her tits.

“Look at you, sloppy girl, drooling all over your perky, little tits.” Sarah brought the crop down on her right breast. Myriah felt the sting from her nipple to the pit of her stomach. Desire was stirring inside of her with each slap of the crop. Sarah walked across the room and sat down on a bench. “Come here, girl crawl to me on your hands and knees. Look at me.” Myriah put her hand on the floor and began to crawl toward her mistress. She felt the soreness in her ass and lower back but she was sure not to lose eye contact with Sarah. “Good girl, come lay across my lap.” Myriah knew she was going to get hand slapped, and she knew it would be difficult. She crawled across Sarah’s lap, laying on her belly, and arched her back so her ass would stick up.

“Look at this nice ass. Present it to me, slut.” Myriah arched it further, and Sarah brought her hand down on her left cheek. Myriah was surprised and jolted up. “Keep still.” Sarah ordered and pushed her back down into her lap. Sarah slapped her again, this time on her ass and thigh. She slapped her six times on each cheek, while Myriah squirmed. Sarah shoved her head down to the floor and kept her hand there while she altered hard, quick slaps from cheek to cheek. Myriah’s head and shoulders could not be held down as she screamed through the gag. “I love to see this ass all red and swollen,” Sarah said as she rubbed circles with her hands around Myriah’s cheeks. “So full and round.” She slapped her cheeks with each hand at the same time. “How many was that, slut?”

“I don’t know, ma’am, twenty?” Sarah pulled Myriah’s head back by her hair and grabbed her ass firmly.

“You didn’t count, you bad slut. You will be punished further now for your foolishness. On your knees.” She slapped her one final time. Myriah scrambled off of Sarah’s lap, her ass was so tender. Sarah went over to the dresser and gathered a few items. She had a string of rope, a butt plug, and a small tube of lube. Then, she walked over to Myriah and dragged her over to the cage door in the wall. It had a special locking door at the bottom with hand holes and a head hole. Myriah was scared. She knew this was serious. “Bend forward. You deserve this.” Myriah slowly bent forward and spread her ass, as Sarah lubed up the silver butt plug. She slapped Myriah’s ass. “Relax that ass for me.” Myriah felt the cool plug against the entrance to her asshole. Sarah circled it around the rosebud, juicing it up and lightly pushing in and out. Then, she applied her firm pressure and the plug opened up Myriah’s asshole, filling her tightly. It slowly sunk into her and disappeared. Myriah cried out as her as pushed in all the way. It felt big and uncomfortable, but also satisfied something deep inside her. “Sit up. Keep that plug in that ass, you hear me.”

Sarah tied the rope around Myriah’s waist and pulled it between her legs against the buttplug. It felt so large and sore in her ass and the rope rubbed against her pink, swelling skin. It also was tight on her wet slit.

“There you go. You look so helpless and pretty, my whore. Are you ready to be punished again?”

“If it pleases you, mistress.” Myriah muffled out through her gag.

“It pleases me very much. Now, bend forward.” Her head and hands were closed off on the other sde, her ass sticking up in the air. Sarah also fastened the floor cuffs around Myriah’s ankles to keep her legs spread apart. Myriah can only see darkness in the cage and her cries are muffled behind her gag and the door.

“Now, Since you can’t keep track in your head, I want to hear you yell out after ever slap you received. Since you think you deserve 20, you will get 40 for your punishment. Maybe this cage will keep you still and teach you to obey your mistress and never forget the orders I give you.”

Sarah slapped Myriah with the crop and her hands all down her back, ass and legs. Her ass is widely stretched from the plug. On the other side of the door, her hands are restrained and she cries against her sloppy, wet ball gag. From number one to forty, time blurrs forward as the spanking turns her soft round ass to a pretty shade of red. The binding rope rubs against Myriah’s wet sex and she grinds against it with each spank and hit she receives. The butt plug is vibrating inside her butthole with each hit. She wants release so badly.

She released from the floor cuffs and Sarah unlocks the door. Light fills her eyes again and she stretches her wrists out before placing them behind her back and sitting up straight.

“Good girl.” Sarah bends down to face her and slowly licks her slimy ball gag. She licks Myriah’s lips and sucks on her red ball. She gently kisses the corners of her mouth. Myriah desperately wants to kiss Sarah back and it is driving her wild.

“Such a pretty girl you are after you’re punished. You did very good.” Sarah reaches around Myriah’s head and removes her ball gag. Myriah stretches out her lips and tongue.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Myriah coos. Sarah leans in to kiss Myriah, and their lips wrap around each other. Myriah accepts Sarah’s tongue into her mouth, as Sarah reaches up to touch her tit. She grabs her tits and massages them, flicking and pinching her nipples. Sarah breaks their kiss and pushes Myriah’s head to her own chest. Myriah gladly sucks on Sarah’s puffy nipples and fondles her breasts. She suckles her tits hard and bites her lightly. Sarah groans and pushes her breasts into Myriah’s faces. She pulls her arms around her head and forces Myriah not to breathe against her tits. Myriah struggles against her for a moment and then stills. Sarah releases her and Myriah kneels up in exasperation.

“You are such a good little slut.”

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you for your gorgeous tits.”

“Good girl.” Sarah whispers as she caresses her face. “I have a surprise for you.”

Sarah stands and goes to box cage on the other side of the room. Sarah takes the key and unlocks the door. A girl with dark hair and large breasts emerges from the cage, crawling on her hands and knees. She is wearing a similar red ball gag and is also wearing a butt plug with a rope belt holding it in. She crawls into the center of the room and kneels up, pushing her breasts forward. Her name is Jess. Jess looks up at Sarah as she walks around her. Sarah touches Jess’s hair and rubs her thumb on her cheek.

“My little slave, have you been cooped up in there too long?” Jess nods her head. Sarah pulls the ball gag out of her mouth.

“Speak, slave.”

“Yes, beautiful mistress. I missed your company.” Jess swallows hard.

“This is Myriah, Jess. You two will become good friends.” Jess and Myriah meet eyes. “Come, Myriah, meet Jess. Crawl on just your knees and stick out your chest so we can see your tits.”

Myriah comes over to Jess and kneels in the same position in front of her.

“Do you want to suck her tits?” Sarah asks Myriah.

“Yes, Ma’am. May I?”

“You may.” Myriah leans forward and takes Jess’ s nipple into her mouth and sucks it greedily. Jess closes her eyes and groans.

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you, Myriah.” She breathes heavily as Myriah tugs on her nipples with her teeth and circles her tongue around them. Sarah come back from the dresser with a pair of nipple clamps.

“Let’s have a little fun here with Miss Jess.” Myriah pulls away and Sarah places the nipple clamps on Jess’s breasts. She cries out in pain and pleasure. The sensation is incredible.

“Kiss her.” Sarah says to Myriah. She leans into Jess and her groans get lost in her lips. They kiss each other gently and tickle their tongues against one another. Sarah returns with a vibrating wand in hand. While the girls kiss each other, Sarah puts the wand between them and it vibrates against both of them at the same time. Myriah and Jess moan into each other while grinding against the wand. The harsh rope mixed with the wand’s powerful vibes create an overwhelming feeling.

“Little sluts bucking against the same toy like whores.” Sarah begins to slap Jess’s ass and she pushes further into Myriah and the wand. Her muffles cries against Myriah’s mouth become more intense with each slap. Then, Sarah stops and turns off the wand. She steps back.

“Face me, whores.” Sarah sits on the bench as Myriah and Jess shift to face her. “I want you to stalk toward me slowly. Look into my eyes and keep those asses up high.” They slowly start to crawl over to her and bow at her feet, asses raised. They look up at her, but Sarah says nothing. With their faces at her feet. She begins to touch their cheeks with her toes. “Suck them.” She orders. They each begin to kiss her feet and suck on her toes, slowly and carefully. Jess sucks on Sarah’s big left toe while Myriah licks the tops and sides of her feet.

“Come lick me, you filthy whores. Taste my juices.” Sarah pushes her legs far apart as Myriah and Jess move in between her thighs. They kiss the insides of her thighs and use their tongues on the slit of her hot sex. Her wet juices begin to flow and Myriah licks her clean while Jess flicks her tongue on Sarah’s little engorged clit. Jess sucks on it gently while Myriah moves to Sarah’ tight ass. She runs her tongue up and down her ass crack and stuffs her tongue into her pink hole. It is tight and soft and smells delicious.

“Good girls, yes, lick my sweet pussy.” They continue to lick her until she comes in their faces. She pushes both of their faces into her sex and climaxes in their mouths. They lick Sarah clean and taste their mistress’s sweet nectar. She moans and cries out as they continue to service their mistress. Sarah rubs her dripping wet cunt on Myriah’s face.

“My good slave, make my pussy clean. Taste how delicious my cum is.”

Myriah and Sarah lick her wet pussy and asshole clean. She orders them to their knees and tells them to face each other.

“You two will become very good friends, I am sure of it.” Sarah smiles and and reaches forward to tweek both of their nipples. “I am only getting started with you two.”

To be continued…

Eve stares out the window, lost in thought. Only two weeks have passed since the incident at the police station and she still can’t believe the dramatic turn of events that took place that night. Even now, she can hear Officer David’s deep, commanding voice in her ear as well as the sound of the rattling handcuffs that held her in place. She can still feel his burning lips seared to hers and feel his throbbing cock thrusting in and out of her slick, little pussy. The look in his emerald-gold eyes had been one of malice at her arrogant threat of turning him in. He told her that he’d make her life a living hell if she told anyone that he’d raped her.

At the time, she’d been utterly terrified but now, every day that she remains silent, strips her of her fear and fuels her anger.

He should fucking pay! Narcissistic asshole… She imagines TV reporters, newspapers and the World Wide Web covering such a big story. His face would be plastered everywhere. They would show her, the innocent victim, traumatized and crying to Barbara Walters about the horrific event. There would be live coverage as they hauled his ass off to jail. Then he would be the one getting fucked.

The thought makes her smile, her devious mind at work.

Suddenly the doorbell rings making her jump and stifle a gasp. Cursing, she spills her Mountain Dew all over the table and in her lap. God, she’s still jumpy. Bravado only goes so far.

After grabbing a kitchen towel off the counter and quickly wiping up the mess, she tiptoes to the door and looks out of the tiny peephole. When she sees who it is, she releases a long sigh of relief and flings open the door.

Standing on the front porch and looking like she just stepped off a magazine cover, is her best friend, Ann.

“Hey, Eve. Wow… You look like shit,” her friend rudely states, taking off her Channel sun glasses to better assess her appearance. She never was one for subtlety.

It irks Eve that, that is her friend’s way of greeting but she didn’t realize just how disheveled she must look. It’s 4:00 p.m. and she’s still in her fuzzy pajamas, pajamas that are soaked with soda. Her pretty locks are a tangled rats-nest and her eyes are red and dry like rough sandpaper. At least she brushed her teeth.

“So, have you found your I.D. yet?”

“No, damn it!” Eve snaps, instantly fuming. The loss of her I.D. is the least of her concerns. She knows her friend isn’t trying to push her buttons, but she’s doing a damn good job at it.

“Oh… Well, I see that the security cameras that your father bought have been installed,” Ann comments, eyeing one of the high-tech devices above the door. “Why the sudden fear? You still don’t think someone is watching you, do you?”

Eve shrugs, refusing to meet her friend’s suspicious gaze. Instead, she anxiously scans the yard. She knows David doesn’t know where she lives, but the thought of him finding her makes her blood run cold. She’s not one to cower in fear, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Listen, Eve, I’m worried about you. Why don’t you just go to the authorities? Maybe they could send an officer over to help keep an eye–”

“NO!” She interrupts, abruptly shooting her hand out in front of her like a stop sign and wildly glancing around as if she’s scared someone has heard her.

Her reaction makes her friend jump back in surprise, and she drops her sunglasses on the ground.

“Sorry… I just don’t want to bother them. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid.” Her words are a blatant lie, but Ann doesn’t need to know that.

She had in fact, gone to the police station two days ago.

With her head held high and her mind made up, she’d finally decided to turn him in.

She’d wrapped her trembling fingers around one of the double door handles and cautiously opened it. Without moving an inch and holding the door open like a fool, she’d nervously glanced inside. There had been more officers milling around the station than on that fateful night. When her baby blue eyes spotted the two men who had arrested her, she went into a panic and instantly snatched her hand away as if the cold metal had burned her skin. She’d stumbled down the steps and fled the area knowing that she couldn’t do it.

“Anyway, I came by to tell you that Steven Fin is throwing a party tonight and he wants you to show up,” her friend says in a sing-song voice, breaking into Eve’s thoughts.

“Be there by 8:00 p.m. and wear something sexy,” Ann calls out, strolling down the walk way to her flashy red Porsche.

Eve growls in frustration. She really wants to go. For years, she’s fantasized about fucking Steven and even though she’s afraid to leave the house, she can’t pass up this opportunity.

She locks herself in her room, and then rummages around in her closet looking for something to wear.

Her eyes come to rest on a brand new dress that she bought a month ago. It would be perfect for tonight’s party. It’s pale pink, with a plunging neckline, extremely short, and skin tight. The most alluring part of the dress is the crescent moon cut out, starting just under her right breast and curling toward her right hip, exposing a large portion of her smooth, toned tummy.

Eve slips it on over her head and appraises herself in the full-length mirror. The dress clings to her body, nicely displaying her prominent curves. Her ass looks enticing, as always and her puffy, pink nipples poke against the thin material. She shouldn’t wear it, though. Not after the night at the police station. It’s way too revealing…

An image of David pops into her mind and the way his lustful eyes had roamed over her body.

She couldn’t blame him for that. She’d looked like a cock-teasing slut and, if he hadn’t checked her out, she would have been offended. At the time, however, flirting and bribing him with her body was a grievous mistake. Her smartass comments and rude behavior didn’t win her any points either. She just couldn’t stop herself! He attempted to arrest her!

That asshole still shouldn’t have locked her in a cell and taken her against her will. He’d used her for his pleasure, and she hated him for making her enjoy it.

Seething in remembrance, she keeps the dress on, adding a pair of sexy 6 inch heels.

She’s not going to let that fucking jerk control her life. She’ll do whatever the hell she wants. Yes, she might be an egotistical brat but in the end, her word is law, not his.

Once she’s finished touching up her makeup, and smoothing down her dress, she sets her house alarm and walks outside, firmly locking the door behind her.

Eve decides to drive to the party in her brand new sports car. Even though she crashed the last one, her daddy bought her a new one the very next day.

She still hasn’t told him that she wrecked the other car because she was drinking and driving, and she definitely hasn’t told him that she got arrested and raped.

Who knows how he would react. If he got pissed at her, she’d lose her inheritance, and there’s no way in hell she’d let that happen.

Arriving at the party, she strolls into the house like she owns the place. It’s crowded, filled with laughing and shouting guests and all eyes turn to her as she enters the living room.

She knows she looks sexy.

Immediately, guys are offering her drinks and escorting her into the kitchen. They’re practically drooling! She smirks, clearly amused.

After downing three shots of vodka in quick succession, she prances around the house, swaying her hips provocatively to the blaring music.

A few guys rub up against her as she gracefully moves through the sea of people and, on more than one occasion, she feels their hard-ons brush and press against her tummy. It takes her a few minutes to find Steven and, when she finally spots him, she feels her blood boil and her cheeks turn crimson in anger. He’s in the den and practically fucking some random slut on the couch!

Irritated, and on the verge of causing a scene, she storms back into the kitchen and takes two shots of whiskey. She doesn’t like to be made a fool of. There are tons of guys here that are ogling her; and she could have anyone of them, but she’s too pissed off to have sex.

“Why did I even bother coming?” she pouts even though no one can hear her. She thought coming here and hooking up with Steven would distract her from thinking of David. It did, for all of 10 minutes.

Fuming and throwing a fit, she does something childish. She grabs the garden hose and drenches a few innocent party-goers with freezing cold water before stumbling to her car.

She jerks open her car door and slips inside, taking a few calming breaths. She knows she shouldn’t drive. Her eyes are blurry, and she feels a little nauseous; but she’s only a few miles from home. She mentally reassures herself that everything is going to be fine, ignoring the bad feeling settling in her gut.

On the drive home, she swerves left and right and crosses over the center line a few too many times. She definitely shouldn’t be on the road, but she’s almost home.

She releases a sigh of relief when she finally parks outside of her house.

Walking up the porch steps, she unlocks the front door and steps inside. She immediately closes and locks the door behind her afraid that someone might barge in. Turning back around, she realizes that the house is shrouded in darkness. Huh. She thought she’d left the lights on, and she’s completely bewildered. Didn’t she set the alarm, too?

As the thought crosses her mind, powerful arms suddenly encompass her waist and a hard body crashes into her, knocking her to the floor. Surprised, but not paralyzed in fear, she violently begins kicking and screaming.

“WHAT THE FUCK! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!” she cries out frantically. The pointy stem of one of her high heels makes contact with some part of the intruder’s body, and she hears him curse and loosen his grip.

A surge of adrenaline courses through her veins, and she scrambles to her feet. She hastily flings open the back door and runs outside into the night. She only makes it a few yards before her attacker tackles her from behind, and she lands on the soft grass. She starts to yell for help, but her assailant tightly clamps his hand over her mouth, smothering her screams.

She knows her attacker is male. No female would have such a powerful build or smell like cool, crisp cologne. Plus, they wouldn’t have a large, hard bulge in their pants, pressing firmly against the swell of her ass!

The man flips her onto her back and instantly straddles her waist.

With her petite body pinned beneath his muscular form, she breathes erratically through her nose. She can’t fight him off, forcing herself to lift her big blue eyes to his face.

He’s wearing a black ski mask and only his mouth and piercing green-golden eyes are visible. The intruder leans down and lightly brushes his lips across her ear before gently sucking on her earlobe. He kisses her neck before pulling away and meeting her eyes.

“Miss me, little slut?” he asks teasingly, his free hand slipping down to her plump breast and giving it a soft squeeze.

“No!” she screams in shock, as she realizes who her attacker is. She will never forget that voice.

With renewed strength, Eve begins thrashing beneath David. She twists and squirms, a choking sob trapped in her throat by his strong hand. She has to get away. She tries to claw him, but he’s wearing a leather jacket as well as thick black gloves.

A deep chuckle escapes David’s lips as Eve desperately tries to dislodge him.

“Sorry slut, your nails won’t work. Although you did land a pretty solid kick with those damn heels,” he says in a mischievous tone of voice. He’s clearly enjoying himself.

She glares up at him, trying to mask her budding fear with anger.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Eve,” he remarks, clucking his tongue as if he’s disappointed in her.

She hisses in response.

“I’m going to remove my hand, but if you even try to make a sound, I’ll grab my gun and handcuffs out of my back pocket faster than you can blink. Got it?”

Eve stops struggling at the mention of his lethal firearm and the dreadful cuffs. There’s nothing she can do but nod her head compliantly.

Ever-so-slowly, he lifts his hand from her mouth and stares down at her, another disgusting smile playing across his lips.

“Don’t do this! I haven’t done anything wrong, David! I haven’t told anyone!” she whispers harshly, shaking her head in denial.

“So, that wasn’t you outside the station the other day?” he asks in mock confusion.

Frustrated that he saw her and hating the way he taunts her, Eve growls lowly.

“I thought so, cunt,” he remarks icily, his features turning hard.

Yanking her to her feet by her long blonde hair, he hauls her back into the house. Once locked inside, he releases her but smoothly withdraws his gun. Without a moment’s hesitation, he points it at her, threateningly.

Even though he could kill her, and get blood all over her pretty outfit, she still considers running. Maybe she can distract him.

“How did you break in?”

“Don’t play coy with me. You know the answer to that.” he rolls his eyes. “Disarming house alarms and security cameras is second nature to me.”

He places the barrel of the gun between her shoulder blades and nudges her into the living room.

“By the way, here’s your driver’s license, slut.” he comments casually, flicking the card across the room. Sitting down on her couch and making himself at home, he sets the gun on the side table. He removes his gloves and jacket and finally his mask, running his fingers through his messy hair.

Eve sucks in a sharp breath. He looks just as she remembers, intimidating but even more handsome. Annoyingly, images of him gripping her ass with her legs wrapped around his back, assaults her mind. She knows she shouldn’t find him attractive, but she does. However, just because she thinks he’s smoldering hot, that doesn’t mean that she wants him to cruelly rape her again.

A look of lust flashes in his brilliant green eyes as well, as he admires her lithe, young body. His gaze slowly travels up her candy, pink-colored toenails and her slender legs, lingering at the junction between her slightly parted thighs.

“Take off that stupid dress,” he instructs, absentmindedly waving his hand at her. He’s like a king addressing his loyal subject, full of arrogance and confidence.

“Fuck you,” she automatically replies. She will not allow him to give her orders in her own home.

Her defiance pisses him off and what little patience he has instantly evaporates.


She can’t help but jump at the sound of his booming voice as it bounces off the walls and vibrates through her bones. For a moment, her gaze turns fearful.

She unties her halter-top dress and slides it down her curvy body as quickly and seamlessly as possible. After kicking it off to the side, she instinctively crosses her arms over her chest. The only article of clothing remaining on her sleek body is her cute pink panties and strappy high heels.

“Lower your arms, little tease. I want to see those wonderful tits of yours,” he says, smiling evilly, gaining control of the situation once more.

Eve drops her hands to her hips, her fear flipping back to anger.

“Mmm, look at those beautiful breasts. They can really make a man hard.”

Eve clenches her teeth to keep from insulting him even though, in truth, his words are a compliment.

“I love how supple and perky your tits are, and your light pink-colored nipples look so suck-able.”

He motions her to him and grudgingly, she obeys. Taking her small hand in his, he pulls her onto his lap so that she’s straddling his upper thighs.

She’s so petite that toes don’t even touch the carpet, and the position makes her legs spread open like an offering.

Grabbing her firm ass, he roughly kneads it, digging his fingers into her flesh and jiggling her cheeks.

“You feel good, slut, just as I remember but better. I’m going to enjoy taking you in your own home.”

Yanking her ass towards him, he makes her grind back and forth against his hard-on, forcing her to give him a lap dance like a cheap stripper.

She’s disgusted and is practically salivating to hurt him. She hates being at this asshole’s mercy.

David leans forward and captures one of her pert nipples in his mouth. He flicks his wet tongue back and forth across it, feeling it swell between his lips. Moaning, he roughly sucks on the little bud while rolling her other nipple between his fingers. He switches between both, twisting and pinching her erect nipples before clamping his teeth around one and roughly extending it from her body.

“Owww!! Stop! That hurts!” She yelps in shock and pain.

“You were going to turn me in, weren’t you, you little bitch!” He’s seething, knowing that she could have ruined him.

He roughly pinches the other swollen nipple until she’s sobbing and begging for mercy.

“No! I didn’t do anything!” She whimpers, trying to push his hand away and cover her tender breasts from further abuse.

“I warned you, you would regret it.” He knows that he’s inflicting a great deal of pain, but he’s pissed. She deserves to be treated like a filthy slut.

“I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry!”

Satisfied, he releases her aching, swollen bud and grabs her chin.

“Officer, you will address me as Officer,” he demands, squeezing her jaw.

“Ye-yes, Officer.”

“That’s better.” Reaching into his pocket, he produces a menacing pair of handcuffs.

The moment Eve sees them, she begins struggling again.

“NO! Please, I don’t want to wear them!”

David just chuckles and quickly grabs her flailing arms. He easily locks the cuffs around her dainty wrists, swiftly binding them together behind her back. He’s had years of practice.

“No! You asshole! Un-cuff me! NOW!”

When she continues to scream and thrash on his lap, he harshly backhands her across the face, the force whipping her head to the side.

She sees stars for a moment, as a large welt begins forming on her pretty heart-shaped face.

“I must say, I do admire your aggressive, headstrong nature, Eve. You always put up quite a fight. I love that. You’re a wild animal who needs to be tamed.”

“And you’re cock-sucking douche bag, who obviously can’t get a fucking date! You’ve resorted to becoming a rapist! That’s the only way you can get your cock in a pussy, isn’t it? You’re a fucking disgrace to the police force!” she screams, attacking him with insults. The moment the words fly out of her mouth, she regrets it.

Rage boiling to the surface like hot lava, he growls menacingly, his sinister gaze burning into hers. He looks at her like he’s going to kill her, and she shrinks back in fear.

“You’re going to regret that, cunt!”

He viciously rips off her panties, stripping her of her only remaining clothing.

“You still haven’t learned. Your big mouth is always going to get you into trouble, Eve.”

He quickly unzips his pants and pushes them down his thighs, his boxers following suit. With his throbbing, erect cock finally free, he grips it with one hand and grabs her hair in the other. He roughly shoves her head down as far as her body can bend, until her mouth is inches from his twitching cock.

The position makes her groan as a jarring, shooting pain races down her spine. She struggles to sit up but it’s an impossible task since her hands are cuffed behind her back.

“Now you filthy whore, I want you to spit on my cock. You will do this until the head is glistening with your saliva and coating my shaft.”

“No, let me up. I can’t stretch down any farther, it hurts!” She’s panting, unable to ignore the pain.

“You shouldn’t have gotten lippy, you dirty slut.”

Eve whines, knowing that he’s speaking the truth.

“This is how it’s gonna go. I’m going to fuck your pretty pussy until you can’t see straight and your spit is the only lube I’ll allow. So, I suggest you make my cock as wet as possible.”

“Kelly. Come in.”

“Yes sir.”

“Put your school bag in the corner and sit at the front desk.”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”


“Yes what?”

“Yes sir.”

“Why are you here?”

“For detention sir.”

“Do you know why I’m giving you detention?”

“Yes sir.”

“Why am I giving you detention?”

“Because of my bra?”

“What are the rules about school uniforms?”

“But sir, I was just…”

“Uh uh! I’m not a fool young miss.”

“But sir, I’m not…”

“Silence! What colour bra is allowed?”

“White sir.”

“And what colour bra were you wearing today?”

“Black sir.”

“It’s very easy to see a black bra under a thin white blouse, Kelly. Especially when you’ve spilled water down yourself.”

“But sir, that was…”

“Silence. You’re eighteen, not eight.”

“Yes sir.”

“Did you change it?”


“Have you changed your bra?”

“Yes sir.”

“Show me.”


“Undo your top button.”

“Yes sir.”

“I can’t see anything. Undo your next button.”

“But sir, I …”

“Undo your next button.”

“Yes sir.”

“And the next.”

“Yes sir.”

“I don’t see a white bra.”

“No sir.”

“Why is that?”

“I didn’t have one to change into, sir.”

“So you’re still wearing the black bra?”

“No sir.”

“Are you wearing a bra?”

“Yes sir.”

“Show me.”

“But sir…”

“Undo the rest of your buttons. Now.”

“Yes sir.”

“Stand up.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now open your blouse.”

“Yes sir.”

“So, you’re not wearing a bra?”

“No sir.”

“Where’s the black bra?”

“In my bag, sir.”

“Get it out.”

“Can I do up my top?”

“No. Hurry up.”

“Yes sir.”

“What fell out of your bag?”

“Nothing sir.”

“Bring it here with your bra.”

“But sir, it…”

“Bring it here now. Stand next to your desk.”

“Yes sir.”

“Give me the bra.”

“Here sir.”

“This bra is so lacy I can see straight through it.”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you think that’s appropriate wear for school?”

“No sir.”

“Why were you wearing it?”


“I beg your pardon miss?”

“I don’t know sir.”

“You had a reason. Why were you wearing it?”

“It… feels good sir.”

“Does it? It feels good against your skin?”

“Yes sir.”

“It feels good against your breasts?”

“Yes sir.”

“It feels good against your nipples?”

“Yes sir.”

“So, you like the feel of soft lace gently scratching against your bare nipples?”


“Do you?”

“Yes sir.”

“Does this bra feel good against your skin now?”

“Yes sir.”

“Does it feel good against your breast now?”

“Yes sir.”

“Does it feel good against your bare erect nipple?”


“Does it?”

“Yes sir.”

“I see. Do you play with your nipples in class.”

“S… Sometimes sir.”

“Do you think that’s appropriate class behaviour?”

“No sir.”

“You’re going to have to control yourself in class young miss.”

“Yes sir.”

“If I ever catch you you’ll be severely punished.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, what did you drop?”

“These sir.”

“Black panties. Also lacy and see through. Also against the rules. Were you wearing these earlier today as well?”

“I wasn’t going…”

“It smells like you were. Is that your smell?”

“Yes sir.”

“So, you were you wearing these with your bra?”

“Yes sir.”

“What are you wearing now?”

“I’m… I’ve got…”

“Bend over.”

“But sir, I …”

“Bend over.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m not seeing any panties. Stand up straight.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now lift up your skirt.”

“Yes sir.”

“So you’re not wearing any panties either.”

“I didn’t have any other pairs at…”

“I don’t want to hear it. Keep your skirt up.”

“Yes sir.”

“There’s a name for girls like you Kelly. Isn’t there?”

“Yes sir.”

“There’s a name for young women who don’t wear a bra or panties. Who stand there with their shirts open and their large full breasts hanging out for the world to see.”

“Yes sir.”

“What do you think you look like, holding your short skirt up around your slim waist exposing your plump round arse and your pubic hair already glistening with a thin film of moisture? What do you think you look like?”

“I don’t know sir.”

“You look like a slut, Kelly.”

“Yes sir.”

“What do you look like?”

“A slut, sir.”

“What are you?”

“A slut sir.”

“Correct. Do you know what sluts do?”

“No sir.”

“They do whatever they’re told, don’t they?”

“Yes sir.”

“What are you going to do, slut?”

“Whatever I’m told sir.”

“Good slut. Wipe away your juices, slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re making a mess slut.”

“Sorry sir.”

“Just use your middle finger slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Wipe as much juice as you can onto your finger slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now lick your finger clean.”

“Yes sir.”

“Do it again.”

“Yes sir.”

“Keep doing it slut.”

“Yes sir. Mm.”

“Stop that.”

“Yes sir.”

“What do you think you’re doing slut?”

“Wiping away my juices sir.”

“That’s not what you were doing slut. You were fingering your cunt.”

“Yes sir.”

“Is that what I told you to do slut?”

“No sir.”

“What did I tell you to do slut?”

“Wipe away my juices sir.”

“And what did I catch you doing slut?”

“Fingering my cunt sir.”

“Do you think it’s appropriate to finger your cunt in school, you slut?”

“No sir.”

“Do you finger yourself in class?”

“Sometimes sir.”

“It’s about time you were properly punished slut.”

“Please sir, I couldn’t…”

“Bend over slut.”

“But sir…”

“You need to be spanked you filthy little slut.”

“No sir, I…”

“Lift your skirt up slut.”

“Please sir, I… Ow.”

“Now slut, apologise.”

“Ow, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry what?”

“Ow. I’m sorry sir.”

“Sorry for what, slut.”

“Ow. I’m sorry for fingering my cunt. Ow.”

“I’m sorry for fingering my cunt what?”

“Ow. I’m sorry for fingering my cunt sir. Ow.”

“Did you mean to masturbate?”

“No, sir. Ow.”

“No sir what?

“Ow. No sir. I didn’t mean to masturbate. Oh.”

“Could you help yourself?”

“Ow. I couldn’t help myself sir. Ow.”

“Why not?

“Oh. Because I’m a slut. Ow.”

“You’re a slut what?”

“Ow. Because I’m a slut sir. Oh.”

“What kind of slut are you?”

“Ow. A desperate slut sir. Oh.”

“What kind of slut are you?”

“Oh. A naughty slut sir. Ow.”

“What kind of slut are you?”

“Oh. A slut who was caught masturbating. Ow.”

“What kind of slut are you?”

“Ow. A slut who couldn’t stop fingering my cunt. Oh.”

“What kind of slut are you?”

“Oh. A slut who needs to be punished. Oh.”

“Sit back down, slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Unzip my pants, slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Pull out my cock, slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now stroke it slowly.”

“Yes sir.”

“Hold it a little tighter. Good slut.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Now a little faster.”

“Like this sir?”

“Good. Mmmmm. Ohhhh. Now kiss my cock.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now lick my cock.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now suck my cock, slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Take in more slut.”

“Mmm mmm.”

“Ohh, you’re good.”

“Mmmmm mmm.”

“You’ve done this before haven’t you slut?”


“You’ve sucked off half the boys at this school, haven’t you?”


“You charge them all for blow jobs, don’t you?”


“You’re a cocksucking little whore.”

“Mmm mmm.”

“Do you want to feel your bra against your nipple, slut?”

“Mmm mmm.”

“Take off your shirt slut.”

“Mmm mmm.”

“You can squeeze your tits slut.”

“Mmmmm mmm.”

“Do you enjoy sucking cock while squeezing your tits?”

“Mmm mmm.”

“Do you want to finger yourself cunt?”

“Mmm mmm.”

“You can finger yourself cunt.”

“Mmmmm mmm.”

“That feels so good Kelly.”

“Mmmmm mmm.”

“I’m going to cum on you, slut.”

“Mmm mmm.”

“I’m going to cum on your pretty face and on your large tits.”

“Mmm mmm.”

“When I cum, jack me off over your pretty mouth and over your large tits.”

“Mmm mmm.”

“And keep fingering your cunt while I cum on you.”

“Mmm mmm.”

“Are you ready, slut?”

“Mmm mmm.”

“Ah you ready for me to cum on you, you cheap cock sucking whore.”

“Mmm mmm.”

I’mmmm cummmmming!”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh. Ahhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Yes sir.”

“Lick my cock clean, slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Stop fingering yourself slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Stand up.”

“Yes sir.”

“Lie back on the desk.”

“Yes sir.”

“Spread you legs apart, slut

“Yes sir.”

“Use your fingers to spread your cunt flaps apart.”

“Yes sir.”

“Show me your wet little cunt.”

“Yes sir.”

“Your cunt is glistening with juices.”

“Yes sir.”

“Stick your finger up your cunt, slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now place your finger in my mouth.”

“Yes sir.”

“Mmm, you taste good slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m going to eat you slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you want my tongue in your hole, slut?”

“Oh yes sir.”

“Mmm, mmm mmmm.”

“Yes sir, I want your tongue in my sweet hole.”


“Yes sir, I want your tongue to slide up between my sodden lips.”


“Yes sir I want you to tongue my clit.”


“Yes sir, I want your tongue to glide from my pretty puckered arse to my swollen clit.”


“Yes sir, I want you to do it again.”


“Yes sir, I want you to lick me faster.”


“Yes sir, I want my cunt drenched in your spit.”


“Yes sir, I want you to suck on my clit.”


“Yes sir, I want your finger ramming my cunt.”


“Yes sir, I want another finger.”


“Yes sir, I want four fingers smashing my cunt


“Yes sir, I’m almost there.”


“Yes sir, please sir, faster sir.”


“Yes sir, I’m cummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ahhhhhhh!”


“No sir, I… I… “


“I…ah, ah, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Sit up and take off my shirt, slut.”

“Yes, yes sir.”

“Take off my pants slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re fucking your teachers for A’s, aren’t you slut?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you want me to give you an A?”

“Yes sir.”

“Lie on your back slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Spread your legs wider slut.”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh, do you like that slut?”

“Yes sir. I love the feel of your cock inside me.”

“You are so wet and ready, slut.”

“Yes sir. Please sir, fuck me sir.”

“Do you like my hard cock sliding into your wet hole?”

“Yes sir. I like your cock pushing apart the folds of my cunt, penetrating me.”

“I can feel your cunt sucking me in.”

“Hold my hips sir.”

“Squeeze your tit slut.”

“Harder sir.”

“Finger your clit slut.”

“Faster sir.”

“Take that slut.”

“Yes sir. Oh, yes sir.”

“Cum for me slut.”

“Yes sir. I’m cumming sir. Oh, oh!”

“I’m c… c… cumming slut!”

“Cum in me sir.”

“Yes slut.”








“Kiss me.”

“Yes sir.”

“Mmm. You better put your top back on.”

“Yes sir.”

“That will do for today’s detention.”

“Yes sir.”

“You can go.”

“But sir…”


“Can I have my bra and panties back?”

“No. I’ll be holding onto them.”

“But sir…”


“They’re not mine sir.”

“Whose are they then?”

“They’re… someone else’s sir.”

“Obviously. Who? Another student?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, you both know the rules. If she wants them back you’ll both have see me. Is that a problem?”

“I guess not.”

“Good. Now go.”

“Yes sir. Sir?”

“What is it now?”

“Thank you sir.”

“Thank you Kelly. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

Sam was a bright, 20 year old, radiant young man. He far surpassed his classmates in their studies. Spending long hours in his room completing assignments working many hours into the night. Sam had a somewhat clumsily hidden secret. Sam had a great deal of interest in the under-wears of his mother and aunts. He was obsessed. Swiping clothes from the house’s only drier, walking quietly and containing his excitement. Sam would even go as far as to reach into the drawers on his mother’s bedroom furniture. But Sam was putting that behind him now.

He was behind in his classwork and spent even more time hitting the books….

Sam waved the pencil with his pointer and thumb while examining the equation he had to simplify. He turned his eyes away from the paper and leaned back into his desk chair. “I would like to see if she left her clothes in the bathroom.” Sam thought. Suddenly wondering if his mother told his aunt Reba that he had a habit of taking things in that way. “There’s no way.” Sam announced out loud. Sam turned his eyes back to the math work he had been attempting to solve.

Unable to concentrate on his paperwork Sam stood up, He was horny, and it was only 8:45. He knew he was going to at least look in the bathroom, in case the clothes her aunt had previously worn were strewn about. Though his family was still very much active and awake, he knew his mother would be sitting down with her sister and chatting about any old thing. Sam was thinking very hard about the bathroom and his chance at getting a much sought after treasure to fill his habit. He walked from his upstairs bedroom towards the upstairs bathroom, he was able to look down the stairs and see his mother and aunt crowded around the television.

Sam entered the bathroom and closed the door slowly behind him. His eyes asphyxiated immediately on the clothing still in the place where his aunt had put it when she stripped her clothes off. He could tell she pulled her jeans and underwear off in 1 tug the way they were on the floor. Sam was somewhat relieved that the underwear she had been wearing were just a conservative pair of whites. He was able to step right over them on his way out of the John.

Sam returned to his room and let out a big sigh. He heard his moms voice and realized quickly that she was talking about him or calling his name. He took this much needed break to walk out into the hallway and down the stairs, at least to spend time in the kitchen. Sam walked down the stairs 1 at a time. His aunt Reba smiled and said “Hey Sam.”

Reba was only 6 or so years older than Sam. “Hello Reba, I’m glad mother and you are enjoying yourselves.” said Sam.

“We were just talking about you”. said Reba. Sam couldn’t help but feel fear. He was very glad he refrained from touching his aunt’s worn clothing.

“Your Mother wanted to know if you were hungry.” Said Reba.

Sam felt a wave of relief to know his secret was safe.

Sam declined his mother’s offer to prepare him a piece of dessert.

Sam walked up the stairs 2 at a time and started straight towards his room when he gazed into the guest room just to see one of his aunt Reba’s bags wide open, with cloth goods visible. He stood stone still in the hallway, listening. When he determined he was safe, he walked into the guest room. The familiar room with the queen sized bed in the middle, Sam recalled when his mother still kept old clothes in the drawers. He’d spend hours home alone putting on things and staring at himself in the mirror. Sam looked into the bag and saw a red pair of cotton briefs. Sam’s blood began to rush and he started to get an erection. Sam decided then and there to take the red briefs. He grabbed them in his hand and pulled them free from the bag. Stuffing them in his pocket he started for his bedroom.

Sam closed his bedroom door behind him and started to feel guilty, just the other day he had decided he needed to steal clothes much less frequently. And here he was with a pair of red cotton briefs in his pocket. His blood began to flow as he thought about the tightness he would feel wearing these size 6 briefs. He thought about how just the other day, the morning before specifically, his mother confronted him and offered to buy him underwear to wear. He answered no but it was impossible for him to claim he was not taking panties. He had suspected that his mother knew that he had taken a pair of his mothers underwear from her bedroom, just an hour before. Sam’s mind was racing and he decided it was a good time to masturbate. He stripped his clothes naked and slid the briefs up one leg at a time, letting the elastic smack his skin when he pulled them all the way up,over his genitals. Sam thought he could cum right then.

Sam heard his mother’s voice again and quickly pulled his shorts on. Before he could find his own shirt his mother had opened the door, Seeing her shirtless son, her vision narrowed as she tried to chase the outline of panty lines. Sam could feel her gaze upon him. He was going to mumble something but decided not to, her mother would speak first he thought. “Come downstairs and hang out with your aunt Reba, she changed your diapers you know.” Sam’s mother said in a playful tone. “and put your shirt back on” she added.

Sam nodded approvingly.

Sam walked down the steps 1 at a time feeling the cotton glide between his legs and privates. He wanted to moan, but contained it. When Sam sat down on the couch he began getting involved in the conversation and almost forgot he had his new panties on for the first time. Sam was glad his aunt Reba had visited them this weekend. Soon after drinks and laughs, Sam could hear his mother talking about the bathroom. “Did you leave your clothes on the floor when you showered?” His Mother did not like a messy bathroom.

“Sorry about that” answered Reba. Reba began climbing the stairs when Sam’s mother said to her, “make sure nothing’s missing.”

“I beg your pardon?” asked Reba.

Sam could feel his heart in his throat, his cheeks began to turn red. Sam closed his eyes and hoped that he mis-heard his mother.

“He will take from what you leave out.” His mother stated, as matter of factually.

Reba blinked, still confused on her way to the bathroom, she scooped up the clothes in her arms and brought them to the guest room where she sat them down next to her all ready opened bag. She walked out of the guest room and down the stairs to sit gently on the couch. “What were you saying then?” Reba asked her oldest sister.

“Sam will take your clothes if you leave them out.” Sam’s mother looked embarrassed herself.

“Is this true Sam, do you take clothes from the people around you?” Reba asked Sam

Sam went to speak but his mother spoke over him.

“Not just to have them, he wear’s them too.”

Reba started to smile and looked right at Sam.

“Do you look like a real girl when you are dressed up Sam?”

Sam turned even more red, having dreading someone to know, much less talk about his shameful character trait.

“He probably has my underwear on right now.” Sam’s mother said cooly.

Sam gave his mother a sharp look.

“Well do you Sam? Are you wearing your mother’s naughty bits?” Asked Reba.

Sam stared at the floor.

Sams mother stood up from her chair and walked over to Sam. She stood him up, grabbing at his waist she pulled away his shirt then peeked into the side of Sam’s shorts.

“Yes he has panties on” Mother had said glancing at Reba.

“These aren’t mine though”

“They’re Reba’s.” Sam Volunteered.

“No way let me see!” Exclaimed Reba as she moved towards him and her sister.

“Those are my red panties, size 6 too!”

Just then Sam’s mother pulled his shorts down around his ankles, infuriated that her son had stolen from her sister’s bag. Sam sheepishly stepped out of his shorts with the red cotton panties still in place, on display for anyone to see.

“I’m crushed that you would go in my bag, NOT ok.” Reba whined.

“You want to steal so you can wear panties!?” his mother was livid. She began to yell and berate him. She was explaining the way he sneaks around and pilfers her laundry, with much emphasis on the stealing.

“And now you’ve stolen someone else’s” It was the final straw for this patient mother.”pull the panties around your knees and lean against the bookcase.” He didn’t dream of disobeying his mother. Sliding the red cotton down his thighs he reached his hands out against the bookcase.’

“spread your legs and bend over” Sam didn’t hesitate, he looked between his legs only too see his manhood beginning to make an entrance. He was very turned on being bent over the bookcase, knees straining underneath their pale red prison, feeling even more vulnerable that his manhood was having a response.

“It looks like he’s enjoying this.” Reba pointed out.

Mother inspected her son’s body and needed no time to think.

“You will stay in this position until you are forgiven.”

“great..” Sam thought, knowing full well not to respond. Sam felt a slew of emotions. The shame was burning in his face; his secret, not to mention his rivates, revealed to his aunt. The horror he experienced when his mother snapped into action not lost on his mind. Staring between his own legs he was reminded of the excitement. He waited silently for his mother’s next move.

“In the meantime your aunt and I will enjoy a movie”. Sam heard his aunt giggle and his mother head upstairs. Soon there was a sound from within the drawers of the entertainment center. And then the television came to life. Sam closed his eyes, hearing the narrators familiars voices. His aunt and mother were silent, Sam pretended they weren’t in the room. He could hear their familiar breathing, his mother coughed. 20 minutes went by without a word.

“He’s got a little butt.” Reba announced with a giggle.

Sam heard his mother sigh. If He could blush anymore his legs might go weak. Sam breathed slowly not to bring any attention to himself. Wondering what life would be like now that he couldn’t hide his secret. He told himself he wouldn’t steal another thing again but knew that after tonight’s non-show of will power he might end up frustrated. Sam tried to stand on his tiptoes to relieve his legs, it didn’t help much. This show prompted his mother to leave the room, Sam could hear her posture in her steps. She was still livid.

“Sam.” His aunt reba said. Sam opened his mouth.

“What?” Sam managed to scratch out.

“Those aren’t your color.” Reba reminded him.

Sam took the blow silently. Blinking his eyes at the floor a few times. Reba was bewildered herself, she knew her sister was a bit strict, but this was outright wicked. If Reba had stolen her sisters clothes in her youth, her parents wouldn’t have batted an eye. She knew there was no way her nephew would approach her about borrowing clothes however.

“Sam are you gay?” Reba questioned.

“No!” Sam quietly announced. Suddenly realizing his mother might have been in earshot. He closed his mouth and stared at the floor, unable to forget about his predicament, with his genitals and the panties in view. His groin staring back at him. Sam could hear the footsteps of his mother descending the stairs.

“Sam go upstairs.” his mother said. “and pull your panties up.” she added.

Sam pulled the panties up letting the waist band slap his skin again, something his aunt took notice of. Reba stared at her nephews groin, his genitals magnified by the tight underwear. Sam walked past Reba staring at the ground, he walked towards the stairs. His mother stood with her arms folded, watching her son walk with his head down. He climbed each step 1 at a time, conscious of his body.

Reba asphyxiated on her nephews back side. When it was out of view, her gaze met her sister’s. Sam’s mother shook her head, able to follow that her sister’s eyes were on her son.

“Such a rotten child.” Sam’s mother announced.

“I think he has learned his lesson about stealing.” Reba said, honestly.

“There’s much more in store for Him, I’ve taken away his computer monitor.” Sam’s mother said dryly.

Reba just blinked. “I guess he can keep the panties. They are really ugly anyway.” Reba explained. “Now he will think I only wear granny panties.”

Sam’s mother laughed with a snort. “He’s worn every pair of panties I had in storage, even some of the bras.”

“So he knows you only wear granny panties!” Reba teased her sister.

“Oh hush.” Sam’s mother said. “I offered to buy him his own, but he said no.” “I am going to anyway.” Sam’s mother sighed. “It’s disgusting to wear someone else’s clothes!”

Reba just nodded in reply. The television kept the room from being silent. It was an odd situation, neither woman knew what to feel or think. One thing was known for sure, they would never look at Sam without wondering if he was wearing their knickers.

Sam closed the door behind him and leaned his back to the door. He thought he heard his mother through the thin walls. He closed his eyes and slumped down to a sitting position. He heard the word panties, and he heard the word disgusting. Sam’s skin crawled with a fresh new wave of shame. He opened his eyes and stood up. He slid the panties down his legs and stepped out of them, not sure exactly what to do with them. He held them in his hand when he noticed a note from his mother. It read, “change your clothes and write an apology letter to your Aunt Reba.” She didn’t sign it.

Sam was grateful for his mother’s fairness. Then he noticed his computer monitor was gone. Sam felt angry, it was short lived, considering he was half naked and holding his Aunt’s red briefs. He folded the panties in half and set them on his bed, he put on a new pair of boxers and a pair of shorts. He flipped to a fresh piece of paper and wrote a letter head for his Aunt. He kept it short.

“Dear Reba,

I wanted to write this letter of apology. I am very grateful that you are my aunt and my family is so supportive of each other. I am very sorry and ashamed that I stole from your bag. It is unfortunate that I’ve broken our trust and hope to rebuild it. I hope that you can forgive me. Sorry again,


When Sam finished his letter he removed it from the rings of his binder. He was a bit confused about what to do next but made his way to his door. He held the letter in his hand and walked down the stairs 1 at a time. His mother looked at him from the couch, the movie still playing unobserved. Sam stood at the bottom of the steps. They stared at each other when Reba entered the living room. Reba was holding a tall glass of what was sure to be his mother’s alcohol in a mixed drink. Reba took a drink and sat down. Sam took a step forward.

“I’m sorry I stole from you Reba.” Sam said, while extending his arm. Sam presented the letter.

“Well bring that here.” Reba commanding instead of asking.

Sam stepped forward and handed Reba the letter. Feeling glad that he wasn’t bent over the bookcase, being displayed by his mother. Reba scanned the letter.

“I forgive you for stealing my panties.” Reba said. Sam felt more shame when she put it that way, with emphasis on the words ‘my panties’.

“I told your mother that you could keep them.” This prompted Sam to look at his mother. He knew that she would take any panties he had taken in the past, he couldn’t hide a thing from her. He could see the disgust on his mother’s face, his aunt could get under her skin sometimes.

“Sam I’m going to buy you knew panties.” Sam’s mother announced. “You know I don’t like it when people wear second hand clothing.” “We’re not some poor house.”

Sam only nodded. Very much embarrassed that his mother and Aunt would always assume that he was wearing panties.

“I’ll even help her pick them out” Reba added. Sam’s skin took on a new flush. Changing his attention to his Aunt.

Sam’s mother Scowled at his sister, “I’m perfectly capable of buying my son clothes.”

“I just want to pick the right colors, I think I’m a little more in touch with today’s fashion you know.” Reba was just looking for any reason to take a roll in shopping for her nephew. She was bewildered by her nephews habit of wearing women’s clothing. Thoughts raced across her mind. She still had the image of her son slayed leaning against the bookcase.

“I suppose you do.” Sam’s mother said, completely displeased at this situation. She wished she would never have brought Sam’s excursions up. She knew he would be masturbating into his Aunt’s panties if she hadn’t, but seeing her sister take interest in his nasty little fetish bothered her even more. “I’m getting myself a drink.” “Sam go to bed.”

Sam complied and went up the steps 2 at a time, shutting his bedroom door behind him. Sam was extremely frustrated with his situation, he didn’t even think about finishing his schoolwork, he could do it another time. Sam stripped down to his boxer shorts and went to turn off the lamp. When he turned the switch the first time he saw the panties still folded on his bed, when the switch turned the second time into the off position the image was burned into his mind. Sam stood in the dark for a moment. He then decided to take his boxers off too, he crawled into bed and scooped the panties into his hand. He slid them up his legs then lifted his midsection off the bed to get them up around to his waist. He began to masturbate. He fell asleep before he could ejaculate, his organ still in his hand, above the waistband of the briefs.

Reba nursed the last half of her first drink while her sister had just finished her third. She knew her sister would probably fall asleep on the couch. Reba was still horny from all the thoughts earlier and was asphyxiated on tomorrow, wondering what size her nephew’s new underwear would have to be. She figured since her size underwear was too little on him she would get one size up. She wasn’t very tired and her sister had fallen to sleep on the couch. Reba was feeling naughty and crept up the stairs. She went into the guest bedroom not sure what to do next. She moved her dirty clothes from the bed to the floor, and moved her bang to the floor next to them. Reba though about going into her nephew’s bedroom.

Reba slowly opened the door to Sam’s bedroom and peered in. It was too dark to see anything. She could hear Sam’s heavy breathing in his sleep. She closed the door quietly behind her and reached anywhere for a light switch. Finding non Reba huffed. She reached her arms in front of her and took a few steps. She tripped on a stray shoe and fell to her knee. Sam is not a very heavy sleeper and awoke to this intrusion. He turned his nightstand’s lamp on, suddenly revealing his aunt raising to her feet.

“Reba?” Sam asked duly, still in a stupor.

“Your penis is hanging out.” Reba said dryly. Sam flushed again and pulled the waistband over his now limp genitals. Reba was even more turned on knowing that Sam had worn the panties to bed. “I guess those are the right size then?” Reba joked.

Sam pulled the sheets and cover up over his waist. “Well stand up let’s have a look.” Sam obeyed. “Now turn all the way around.” Sam did.

“They are a little tight in the front…. But that’s because they are made for girls.” “Come with me.”

Sam followed Reba into the guest bedroom. Reba began digging in her bag and soon found what she was looking for. She extended her arm towards Sam presenting another pair of panties. They were a yellow pair of boyshorts, fairly simple.

“Try these on.” Sam was confused what to do at first. Reba moved behind Sam and closed the bedroom door. “Just change your clothes in here, it’s not like I didn’t watch you bent over wearing my panties for 45 minutes…” Sam got another reminder of his punishment. “Do it now.”

Sam pulled the briefs down his legs and stepped out of them. He took the yellow boy shorts from his aunt, stepping into them quickly. He slid them up his legs and let the waistband slap against his skin again, like he had so many times before. “mm.” Reba cooed. Sam got a new erection. “Those are tight in the front too, but that’s because you have an erection.” Sam just blinked at his aunt, his manhood racing to full height. “Maybe you need a thong so no one can see any panty lines.” Reba offered. Sam’s head filled with hope. He was being reminded of all the times he scoured his mothers drawers looking for that thong he thought all women owned. His mother did not have a single thong. He wanted one so badly. Reba could see emotion in his eyes, the moments she could look away from his swollen manhood. She moved behind Sam and gave his butt a playful slap. Sam tensed his cheeks together moving away from this touch. One that he did not expect and almost made him cum in his panties right then and there. He put his hand on his bottom and turned around to face his Aunt.

Chapter 20 – A Conversation with Burnside

Wendy’s disappointment with not having been punished at the Halloween Party intensified throughout the first two weeks of November. Perhaps Amy and Paul did not need to be punished, but she did. Wendy increasingly became convinced that an intense punishment experience was what she needed to get over her problems with gambling. She realized that she could not talk to either Amy or Suzanne about what was going on inside her head. They would not understand. Finally she decided to talk directly to Dr. Burnside.

In the middle of November Wendy went to Burnside’s house with a copy of her book, “Wendy”. Her heart pounding, she rang the professor’s doorbell. It was strange to see Burnside opening the door dressed in a simple sweatsuit, instead of a business outfit or a fetish outfit. Yes, even Ruth Burnside wore sweats.

Burnside was working on some lesson plans, but she was not really rushed, so there was some time for her to sit with Wendy and look at her book. Wendy was so nervous she barely could speak. She could not look her former professor in the face. At first Burnside was totally perplexed as to why Wendy had come to her house. She could tell that Wendy was not too sure herself. However, she was polite to Wendy. She invited her in and offered her some tea.

Wendy sat down. She looked at Burnside nervously. Her hands shook as she gripped her book. It was the professor who began.

“Wendy, from the looks of you I’m going to guess there is something in your life that you are having a lot of problems with. I’m going to guess that you expect me to help you. I hope it’s not something with your studies, since you’re not my student.”

Wendy nervously shook her head. Finally she held out the book to her hostess. Burnside took it, read the back cover, and thumbed through it. Immediately it captured her attention. Burnside thumbed back to the beginning of the book and read the introduction. She skimmed over the essays and again looked at the pictures. The issue Wendy was dealing with was clear enough. The fact that Wendy had come to her for help also was clear enough. What Burnside was not sure about was how to help Wendy. She looked over the pages trying to figure out what was going on in Wendy’s head and what she wanted. That was hard, since Wendy did not know herself what she wanted.

Burnside studied Wendy’s drawings for their artistic merit. They were extremely good. Some of the images aroused Burnside. Every so often Burnside looked up at the artist, who was fidgeting nervously. Finally Burnside decided to get some more answers from Wendy.

“Your work is very good. I’ll be honest and tell you that your pictures excite even me. But I need to know why you’re showing me this book.”

“I…I don’t really know. I…need help. I don’t know what to do. This…thing in me…”

“Wendy, let’s get something straight. There is no “thing” inside you. You gamble because you want to. The issue you face is not getting rid of a ‘thing’. The issue is convincing yourself that you don’t want to gamble anymore. What you’re dealing with is not a chemical dependency, and you’d better stop thinking of it like that.”

“Dr. Burnside, my counselor says that…”

“Bullshit. What you do is because it’s what you want to do. There is no ‘thing’. Now, what do you want from me?”

Wendy fidgeted. She looked at the floor. She couldn’t answer because she still did not know.

“Let’s get something else straight. I don’t like people who look away during a conversation. You look at me.”

Reluctantly Wendy looked up. Her eyes met Burnside’s.

“Now answer. What do you want?”

Wendy shook with fear. Her voice was barely audible.

“Dr. Burnside, this past Spring I gambled $ 60,000 dollars. I want…I need…”

“Come on, Wendy, out with it. You need to say whatever it is that you want to tell me.”

“I need to be punished. I need to suffer. I need to pay for my stupidity…with real pain..”

“And so you are asking that from me…”

Wendy nodded her head. Burnside’s lips tightened.

“Wendy, you don’t nod when I ask you a question. Now, answer it properly.”

“I…I want you to whip me. Like in my drawings.”

“Whip you? Why? What good do you think that’s going to do you?”

“I…I don’t know. I…just want it to stop. I want it all to stop.”

“What to stop, Wendy? I’m not going to try to guess what’s going on in that brain of yours. So let’s hear it.”

Suddenly Wendy broke down crying.

“I hate my life! I can’t stand myself! Those pictures…that’s what I want to happen to me! And no one gets it, no one understands…not even you! I thought…you’d understand…but you don’t!”

As Wendy buried her face in her hands, Burnside suddenly was faced with a dilemma. The girl was asking her for help. The professor took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to deal with this huge burden that suddenly had been thrust upon her.

Burnside was not a subtle or gentile person. She was not one to sit with Wendy and hold her hand and try to comfort her. Burnside suspected that Amy and Suzanne must have spent the entire year trying to comfort Wendy, to no avail. It was apparent that she had been receiving counseling, but that wasn’t working either. Wendy did not need to be comforted; what she needed was quite the opposite.

“Wendy, sit up! Get your hands off your face and sit the fuck up!”

Wendy was surprised as being spoken to so harshly. She complied, although tears continued to stream down her face.

“Now, we need to get a few things straight! Don’t tell me that I’m the one who doesn’t understand, because it’s YOU! You’re the one who doesn’t understand! You don’t understand a god-damned thing about who I am or why I do what I do! And something else. You say that you want to be punished like in your drawings. It’s obvious you don’t know what you’re talking about! There’s no way I’d go that far with anyone, even if they asked me to! I’m not into punishing people to the point I have to pay their hospital bills! Your drawings are excellent, but they’re not real! It’s obvious you can’t separate fantasy from reality if you think you could endure what’s in your drawings!”

Wendy sat silently, shaking slightly. Suddenly, Burnside realized something that alarmed her. Wendy was in very serious psychological trouble, something that went way beyond a simple addiction to gambling. Burnside wondered if perhaps she was only days away from committing suicide. There was only one way to find out, and that was to ask her quickly and directly, extracting the truth before the student had time to think of an evasive answer. Burnside drew a quick breath.

“OK, a quick question. Are you, right now, thinking about committing suicide?”

Wendy sat silent.

“I asked you a question. Are you thinking about committing suicide?”


“And how are you planning to do it?”

“I thought about cutting my throat.”

“With what? What are you planning to use?”

“My fantasy was one of those old straight edge razors, but I don’t know where to get one. So, I…I have this Swiss Army knife with a real sharp blade.”

“You gave it some thought, then, method and instrument. Got it all figured out.”

Wendy looked at the floor. “Yes, Dr. Burnside. I’ve been thinking about it.”

Burnside stood up.

“You’re thinking about cutting your throat with a Swiss Army knife. How nice! How fucking selfish of you! Did you ever give it any thought as to what that might do to Amy or your photographer friend, if they found you dead with your throat cut? Or to your parents, if they had to see you in the morgue with a big, bloody gash in your neck? Any thought about any of that at all? Or was it just all about you?”

Wendy sadly shook her head.

“Don’t you shake your head, you answer my question!”

“No, I never gave that any thought.”

“So it was all about you! Poor little Wendy, oh poor baby, how much she suffered! Never mind anyone else! Never mind that the people who care about you the most are the ones who you’d hurt the most by cutting your throat! Never mind that whoever finds you would have to look at a floor full of your blood, deal with the police, explain to everyone what happened, try to make sense out of it themselves, and probably have nightmares for the rest of their life! I guess that just doesn’t matter! Think about that, for a change!”

Wendy sat staring straight ahead of her, tears running down her face.

“I was hoping that…maybe if you punished me, it would force out whatever it is in me that’s making me…I don’t know…making me think all this stuff.”

Burnside thought about the situation. She realized that she did have a good opportunity to help her forlorn guest, because she felt that she understood Wendy better than anyone else in her life. Burnside suspected that she had been the first person to hear her visitor clearly admit that she wanted to commit suicide. It was obvious that the kindness and support that Wendy had been receiving were not helping her. Burnside was convinced that instead of being treated with kindness, Wendy needed to be treated roughly and submitted to a very strict regime. What the girl needed was a lifestyle change. Yes. A lifestyle change, that was it. She needed to be driven, to be forced into a structured existence, and face real consequences if she failed to meet her obligations. Burnside thought about basic training in the Navy. She remembered one part of her training, facing the gas chamber. She had been afraid of the gas chamber as much as everyone else. But when she came out, cleared her lungs, and wiped the snot and tears off her face, she felt better about herself. Burnside realized at that moment she could face her fears and overcome them. Wendy needed something along those lines. The professor felt she could do something that would work.

“What you are asking from me is something more long term. Sure, I can whip you. But what good will that do if you don’t change your lifestyle? It’s your lifestyle you need to change. You have a lot of stupid thoughts floating around your head, and what you need is a long-term change in the way you live to get your mind on something else. That’s why people go to in-patient counseling, to change their lifestyles and to change what they’re thinking.”

Wendy looked at Burnside intently. The professor mulled over her next words. An idea began to take shape in her head.

“Wendy, how would you like to live with me in the Spring? I can work with you. I’ll make you change your lifestyle.”

Wendy nodded. Burnside’s face became tense with anger.

“Wendy, you do not nod when I ask you something! That’s the third time I told you! Answer me properly!”

“Yes, Dr. Burnside, I’d like it if you can help me. I’ll live with you, if you think it will do me any good.”

“OK. I want to explain a few things. Once you move in, you will give up your independence and your life as you now know it, for the entire Spring semester. The moment you come through that front door, you will remove all your clothing, and you will put on a collar. That collar will be the only thing I will let you wear when you are in my house. Once you enter my house I will lock up your clothes and you won’t see them again until you leave in May. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Dr. Burnside.”

“You will study. You will take a full load of correspondence classes in your major and get A’s in all of them. I will check your work before you send it off. You’ll exercise and get into decent physical shape. I will give you a schedule that you will adhere to. You will not have much time to think about gambling, or anything else. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dr. Burnside.”

“You will be responsible for maintaining my house clean to my satisfaction. You will cook my meals. You will clean my shoes and iron my clothes. You will serve me and my guests. You will host my Mardi Gras party. You will do whatever I tell you to do. You will satisfy me sexually, when I’m not with one of my other friends. If you make any mistakes you will confess them immediately and I will punish you. You do anything that irritates me and I will punish you. If I need to tell you to do something twice I will punish you. If you ever give me or anyone else attitude, I will punish you. Do you understand all that?”

“Yes, Dr. Burnside, I understand.”

“Now, is that what you want?”

“Yes…Dr. Burnside, that is what I want.”

“Good, so we have an agreement. I want you to think this over until the end of the semester. I expect you to finish well and get A’s in your classes. Don’t sign up for anything in the Spring except correspondence classes. I can help you get a couple of independent studies so you don’t lose the semester if you can’t get a full schedule. If you are determined to go through with this, be here the day after Christmas at 9:00 am. You’ll need to bring a cell phone that you can re-charge. That’s all you will need. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dr. Burnside, I understand.”

“There is something else I want you to understand. This will be a chance for you to start over. It’s a second chance at life. Beats cutting your throat.”


Wendy left the house with her emotions in turmoil. She was dreadfully afraid of her tentative arrangement with Burnside. It was obvious that Wendy would suffer intensely during the time she would spend with her former professor. She wondered about the classes. The fact that Burnside wanted her to take correspondence classes and independent studies obviously meant that she would not be let out of her mentor’s house. She would spend the entire semester in isolation, naked, and at Burnside’s mercy.

As cruel as the professor would be to her, it also was obvious that Burnside’s thoughts never excluded Wendy’s future. She would be taking a full load of classes, or at least close to it. Academically, her impending sentence of servitude would not affect her. Wendy understood that her future mistress expected her to leave the house at the end of the spring semester and continue with her studies and her life.

Wendy trembled at the thought that the slightest mistake on her part would result in a punishment. She had seen Burnside’s array of punishment devices. Probably she would feel all of them at some time or another. That scared her and excited her at the same time. Over the past six months the student had fantasized continuously about horrible punishments being inflicted on herself. Burnside had said that she did not go that far, but Wendy knew from her own experience that Burnside knew how to inflict intense pain on another person. If Wendy went through with the arrangement, her body would be feeling that pain on a daily basis.

Burnside had said that Wendy would be wearing a collar. Wendy knew enough about S&M culture to realize the significance of that statement. Wendy officially would become Burnside’s slave at 9:01 on December 26.


What Wendy did not realize was that her upcoming servitude under Burnside already was changing her. For the first time since the Spring she forgot about her urge to gamble and her secret urge to commit suicide. She had to get ready for December 26. There was a lot to take care of.

She started with her parents, telling them that she was going to enroll in an intense in-patient counseling program at the end of the semester, something similar to a boot camp. The only contact she would be permitted with the outside world would be her cell phone, and that only in the case of an emergency. Wendy’s father, still totally perplexed at his daughter’s gambling insanity, agreed that Wendy had to do whatever it took to get back to normal. His anger at her had softened. It was clear that if Wendy could overcome her problems, eventually she would be able to repair the relationship with her parents and move back in with them.

Without telling Amy, Wendy’s next step was to visit Robert at his office. She asked him to draft a power of attorney that would allow Amy to completely take over her affairs until May. Wendy told Robert the same version of her situation that she told her father; she was about to enroll in an intense in-patient counseling program that would last the entire spring semester. That left Robert perplexed, since he had heard of all kinds of programs, but never one like what Wendy was describing. He did not press her for details.

Wendy concentrated even more on her classes. Burnside told her that she had to get A’s. She already was doing well, but the thought of Burnside’s leather switch made her push herself even harder.

Wendy talked to her department chairman to see what classes she could take through correspondence. She entered the chairman’s office with a copy of her book and her explanation about the in-patient counseling program. There were four courses that she could take as correspondence classes. Wendy made arrangements with one of her professors for two independent studies. That gave her six classes. She figured six classes would be plenty, given all her other upcoming responsibilities.


The biggest immediate change in Wendy’s life was her relationship with Amy. Wendy suddenly was desperate to spend time with Amy and have fun with her as much as possible before December 26. During November and December Wendy invited Amy to several movies and a concert. Their daily meetings for coffee, suspended since late March, resumed again. Wendy shocked Amy by asking her the details of her life with Paul and her studies. She was curious as to what Suzanne was doing with her pictures. Wendy had taken no interest in Amy’s life since Spring Break, and this was a nice change. Wendy was eager to share meals with Amy and help her in the apartment. Amy was elated at having her friend back to normal.

In spite of Wendy’s return to “normal” in Amy’s eyes, she realized that something strange was happening, or about to happen, to her friend. As finals approached, Amy asked Wendy what was going on. Wendy, with only a touch of apprehension, explained her upcoming arrangement with Burnside.

“That’s why I’m so anxious to spend as much time as I can with you. I’m afraid I won’t see much of you or anyone in the Spring.”

Amy was surprised, but she did not object to her friend’s plans. Amy had undergone enough painful experiences of her own to be able to comprehend Wendy’s thoughts more than she realized. Amy could understand what Wendy hoped to accomplish by submitting to Burnside. Wendy’s internment in the professor’s house would be a death, of sorts. She would be re-born coming out of Burnside’s house in May. Wendy did not know how she would turn out, but she knew that she would be different than she was now.

Amy realized that two years ago she had gone through a similar experience. She suffered tremendously during the final weeks of her trip with Courtney. Amy’s high school life, and everything she had been up to that time, died in that alley with Courtney. Amy saw the strapping she received from Robert as her painful re-birth into the world, and the beginning of who she was now. Wendy would have a similar experience with Burnside.

Amy and Wendy became much closer during the final two weeks before Christmas. They opened their souls up to each other. Amy finally was able to talk completely freely about Courtney and what she felt about her death. Wendy opened up about her own experiences in high school. They talked about their parents and their childhoods, their friends, and life in general.

Amy thought with regret about Wendy’s lovely body being covered with welts. But she also trusted that Burnside would be careful and not go too far.

Amy thought about Suzanne. She knew that the photographer would be horrified upon learning about Wendy’s plans.


Amy decided to talk to her professor about Wendy, right after the last of the finals had been graded and turned back to the students. With finals over, Burnside seemed more relaxed and talkative. They discussed the tests and how to improve them, the plans for the spring semester, and Burnside’s thoughts on recent economic developments in the US. Finally Amy asked about her friend.

Mistress was gone for the afternoon. She had some shopping and errands to attend to. She had been tired lately, working a lot. She had not used him in days. He felt listless, depressed. He was dying for her touch. Needing to feel the reassurance in her finger tips. Taste her, feel her. He was going crazy.

Just minutes after her departure, his mind was already trailing to the chest. All of the wonderful things that she used. Every strike, every burn, made from the wonderful items found there. Never being allowed to see inside, he was in a trance. Like a kid in a candy store, he could not help himself. His need great, forward he found himself going. Into the bedroom, into the closet.

Was he really going to do this? To defy her so openly? What if he was caught? His heart raced, thinking of the fury. The sweet punishment. To actually feel those wonderful items. To touch them in his hands was too much temptation for his heart to take.

Hands closing around the handle, he pulls up. Heart stops. Locked. Looking closer, seeing the small padlock. Crushed, he slumped against the chest.

Mind racing, he remembers popping those locks as a child. One swift smack with a hammer and home free. Aghast at what he was mentally contemplating unnerved him.

Returning moments later with hammer, fears and Mistress be damned. He had to see, had to touch. If only for a moment.

Smashing the small delicate lock and thinking to himself that there was no turning back. Opening the top, eyes sparkling like a childs. Hands reaching, lovingly caressing. Trailing his finger down the materials. Leather, silk, nylon, satin. Oh my God. Eyes closing, Mistress’ favorite belt in his hand. Fingers tracing over the metal edges, feeling them against his back, thighs. This belt had given him so much pleasure, Mistress’ belt.

Opening his eyes, watching what his hands were doing. He presses the belt to his lips, kissing the metal. Inhaling deeply, smelling the Mistress’ perfume. Pressing the belt against his face, sliding it around his shoulders. Buckle clinking with the movement.

Eyes wide, he sits up. He hears the door opening, she is back! What have I done?

Forgetting my bank card, I rush back in the house, picking it up from the counter. Chuckling to myself, I’m always forgetting something. Stopping suddenly, something feeling wrong. Where was Eric?

Checking the living room, kitchen. My bitch is nowhere. Walking to the bedroom door, pushing it the rest of the way open. Floored by what I saw. Taking a deep breath, clearing my raging mind. Trying to control myself, control my anger.

There sat my little bitch, frantically fumbling in My chest. His dirty unworthy hands all over My toys. His face taken aback and caught red handed in My things.

Closing my eyes, telling myself to hold it together. I set my things down on the floor.

“Stand up now, boy! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Looking down, belt still in his hand. He does not look me in the eyes. He does not want to see the seething anger inside of me.

“Here now, bring me my belt. Assume the position at my feet now, naked.”

Coming to me, handing me his pain. Undressing quickly. Getting on all fours facing me, eyes glued on the carpet below him.

“Turn the fuck around; I do not want to look at you. You have disgraced me and yourself today. I thought you were trained? Whoever came before me does not deserve the title to let you get away with such things.”

When his back is to me, I bring the belt down hard. Metal stinging in to his flesh. He does not move. Repeatedly bringing it down harder and harder. Red whelps marking him, branding his back. Leaving less white flesh then red, I stop. Looking up into the closet, seeing the lock broken. Livid, I take the belt and wrap it around his neck, jerking up. Straddling his back, I cinch it closed, tight. Using the remainder as a lead, pulling him close to me. In the closet, stopping at the toy box.

I pull out the largest anal plug I have. Six inches long and very, very thick. I shove it in to his ass, all the way in.

“No matter what, do not drop this out of your ass. Do you understand you little bitch?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I am so sorry, please forgive me.”

Taking my panties off, I ball them up. Jamming them in to his pleading mouth. Taping the silk in place.

“Look at me!”

His eyes slowly rising to me, shame in their dark brown depths.

“By the end of this day, I may have to ask you the same thing.”

Fear replacing shame now.

Pulling him behind me, I enter the bathroom.


Returning to the bedroom, further investigating his offense. Dipping down to scoop up the broken lock. I pick up some supplies from the battered trunk.

“Stand up bitch, hands in front of you.”

I take one of his wrist, slapping a cuff on them hard. Metal hitting bone, promising a bruise. Stretching his hands up. Attaching both wrist to the shower head. I pushed the plug in harder, reminding him of it.

I take his soft penis, lining the shaft with super glue. Placing his flaccid piece back on his side thigh. Holding it in place, assuring it was glued well. I raked my nails up his stomach, his chest.

“I have some shopping to do bitch, I will be back later to handle you.”

He hung there, arms heavy. Gravity pulling on them hard, sore from the time that had passed. It was now dark outside through the window. The bathroom was dark, swallowing his thoughts with it. Ass aching from holding the plug inside. Afraid to drop it, afraid of Mistress’ wrath. Never had he seen her eyes go to quite that color of green. Dark forest green, shadowed with something bordering evil.

He had never seen Mistress so mad. Months of knowing her, she has always been even tempered. To the point of gentle, at times. This new side of her made him nervous, concerned. Even as he thinks that, he knows that he was excited beyond fear. His penis had jumped several times when he thought about his predicament. The pain coming hard and fast to him. Flesh ripping as he is ripped away from his own thigh. Pain quickly dousing his ardor. Lights flash on, blinding him momentarily.

After a long afternoon of shopping, my thoughts never strayed from what waited at home. Standing there, anticipating.

Naked in the shower. There he was, eyes popping to mine with the harsh light. Begging me.

I take off my clothing, slowly. My sun dress crumpling on the floor next to the shower. Lacy bra and panties following. His eyes never leaving mine. His penis rising and falling, each time a tiny tear was created. Blood trickling down, one small droplet at a time. Only an inch down the length, he had a long way to go.

“Good to see you have listened. How is that ass feeling? Tired? Sore?”

Laughing, I pull it out rapidly, showing no mercy. His eyes close, body sags with relief. Turning on the water, I step in to the shower in front of him.

I start to wash my body, lathering soap on my soft skin. Rubbing, caressing my body. Closing my eyes, hands over my breast. Touching myself, inserting a finger in to my silken folds. His sharp muffled groan interrupts my ministrations.

I reach out, ripping off the tape. Yanking the panties out of his mouth.

“Drink the water, all you will get.”

“Thank you.” His voice deep, raspy. Barely audible in the stream of hot water.

After a moment, I turn my back to him. Washing my long hair, massaging conditioner in to it. I back closer in to his body, my ass brushing against his glue-bound dick. He sucks in his breath, as I slowly bend over. My hands touching my ankles, smiling at the sharp shriek in response. Every time his dick got hard, a little more of his foreskin rips as it pulls away.

Turning around, I kiss him hard.

Fingers twisting in my pussy, I bring up a taste to his lips. Sucking as he whimpers. Centimeters ripping off of his member. Dropping to my knees, eyes on his. I lick his semi-hard cock. Hanging on by mere inches. A red bloodied line buries into the remaining flesh.

Tongue twirling around the head, licking unabused areas. His cries and screams ripped out of his mouth. Inch by inch, his erection pulled the skin off. Away from his body. When all was done, his blood mixing with water in shower, I relent.

He was tired, his mind had been racing for hours. He needed to calm down. I take the handcuffs off, his hands slamming to his sides. He was told to stay right there until I was ready for him.

I go back into the bedroom, toweling off. Pulling a chair from the other room, I set it just inside the door. I take out the large black, eleven and a half inch dildo, very thick. I lube it up quickly, only half way down the shaft.

I go into the kitchen, cutting a small piece of saran wrap. Rifling through the drawer, finding the duck tape, as well. I return to the bedroom, sitting down on the chair.

“Come here boy.”

He walks slowly in to the next room. His eyes are downcast; his dick hangs low, beaten. I know he is nervous, frightened of what more I will do to him. His body already sore from punishment, he craves more. Mind and body. Mixed emotions as he walks before his Mistress. He knows she will never hurt him more than he can handle.

“On your knees.”

Inches from my open thighs, I scoot forward in the chair. Wearing absolutely nothing, putting my pussy inches from his face. Closing my eyes, I touch myself in front of him. Ever so gently. Moaning softly at the wonderful feeling. Increasing speed as orgasm crests. I squirt and dribble juice. He can see my nectar, smell my sweetness. He is now rock hard, hoping and praying that I will give him a taste.

Taking the small piece of clear wrap, I set it over my twat. Moisture holding and sealing the thin plastic to me. I command him to lick.

His tongue coming towards me, I push his head forward. Rubbing my pussy all over his face, not one drop getting through. Pushing him harder against me, so close to cumming.

“Move that damn wrap and put two fingers inside of me. Fuck me with your hand ’til I cum, bitch.”

Groaning as I feel the cool air against my heat. His thick fingers slipping inside my wetness with no resistance. His hand moving fast, orgasm coming just as fast.

“Oh God yes.” Unable to control myself, grabbing his hand. Riding it hard. Prolonging that sweet, blissful moment.

“Withdraw.” Voice a little broken from the powerful pleasure. Sitting up a bit, I look him deep in his eyes. I suckle on his fingers, licking up every drop of myself off of him.

“You don’t even get the taste in your disobedient mouth.”

He looks at me, pouting. Whimpering.

“Bend over the bed now, Eric. Mistress is going to use you tonight. I am going to be rough, show my displeasure in you.”

He lays over the bed, face pushed in to the mattress. He is afraid to look, afraid to see his fate. His ass quivering, still marked from his previous beating. Anus still sore from the hours with the plug. Arms exhausted from hanging over his head while I shopped. I know he is comforted slightly to lie on the bed. Soft fabric cushioning his pained body.

I slowly insert the large black dildo. No hesitation as his body jerks. I simply place a firm hand on his lower back pressing him down, pinning him. Pressing deeper, retching a loud growl from deep in his throat. I know it is sore, I know it hurts. The size of the dildo ripping his ass, plummeting to his darkest depths. Leaving two inches unclaimed, I take the strips of duct tape. Making a large X on his ass with it, securing the dildo in place.

I push off of him, sliding the dildo in harder. His ass pushing it back out, stopping at the tape. I return to my chair, sitting to watch.

“Stand up, turn around and sit down hard on the dick in your ass.”

He did so quickly, eyes closing as he sat fully.

“Open your eyes and look at your Mistress. Now bounce.

Pushing off from his feet, I could see what the movement was doing to him.

“Now touch yourself. Stroke yourself hard and fast as you bounce.”

Hiking my leg up, hand between my legs. Playing with myself as I watch the desire and pleasure cloud his eyes. He was inching closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum now, bitch.”

As soon as the words had left my mouth, he was pumping seed all over. Like a damn geyser, fucking everywhere. I have never seen so much cum from this little bitch.

“Now stand up, take your hands off your worthless cock. That was to make what I am about to do to you feel even more intense. Now sit down hard once again on that big dildo in your ass, shake it side to side as you bounce. Work it in that ass.”

His eyes were starting to glaze. Never able to stop from orgasm, this was something different. He was looking at me, but through me at the same time.

“Now place your heels up on the bed.”

The noise that came out of him rocked me in to another orgasm. I close my eyes for a moment. Riding my hand, his voice egging another out of my body. He is getting higher pitched by the second.

“Stand up. Then sit back down on it hard, repeat this process.” I say this with eyes closed, enjoying the sounds he creates.

“How does that feel bitch, does it hurt?”


“Can you not talk, boy? Pull them heels up and in, I want you to know that I will not tolerate that type of behavior from my bitch.”


Snapping my eyes open finally, I look at my toy. His eyes looking straight ahead, fixed on some far away place. I knew then he was gone. He was bouncing hard, even I winced at the beating he was giving his ass. Like a drone, just up and down and up and down. No sign of pain or tiring. Moan after moan pouring out of his mouth.”

I stand up. “Where did you go, Eric? Are you here with me, my love.”

No response.

“Stand up and pull out.”

He does so with the same fixed stare. Just standing there now. I walk up to him, touching his face lightly.

“Lay down, my love.”

I climb on the bed with him, talking to him. Soothing voice, soothing words. Bringing him back down from wherever he just was. Mind shutting down, letting the body take over, enduring the pain. I flush with guilt, seeing the blood stained sheets from his ass. Lightly, I stroke his hair, telling him how he pleased his Mistress immensely and she has forgiven him. His eyes clearing, focusing. Minutes past before he was recognized in his eyes again.

“Welcome back.”

He just stares silently in my eyes, sheepishly.

Despite Janet’s general air of bonhomie, the luncheon was not characterized by free and easy give-and-take among the women present. The three judges were clearly still embarrassed, realizing that the others had seen these august personages bend over a humiliating punishment block better suited to a Victorian workhouse, lift their skirts and display their panties, and then lower those to receive several strokes of the cane from a uniformed Senior Correctional Officer.

If those steps were not enough to embarrass the three lady jurists extraordinarily, the final imposition certainly accomplished that goal. Each one was ordered to lift her torso off the block, reach between her legs and hold her labia open, and receive two scorching “Mistress’s Strokes” from the small strap which struck each on her open vulva.

These thoughts did register on Eleanor’s mind as she contemplated the scene she had been privileged to witness. The entire imposition had been agreed to by the judges after it became known that technically, the shameful punishment they had visited upon Eleanor for her alleged adultery had been improper. The marriage Eleanor had been accused of violating did not exist and thus her punishment had been legally in error.

Eleanor knew she could embarrass the court by disclosing these facts publicly but also understood that to the women of the Women’s Republic, she still would be regarded as an adulteress since she had not known at the time that her co-respondent was not actually married. So with her new job going well and having only just been admitted to the exclusive Victoria Club in her new city, she happily went along with the way her superior at the company and a woman who apparently had quite a great deal of authority and respect beyond the company and the city, Janet, had orchestrated the denouement of this situation.

The judges seemed a trifle embarrassed both to be lunching with the women who had witnessed their shame and to be present with the woman they had wrongfully sentenced to be punished so severely, and as a matter of law, erroneously.

Nevertheless, Judge Lesley, the outgoing blonde who had earned extra punishment for ignominiously losing control of her bladder during the caning, tried to carry on for the three.

“Janet, it’s been quite some time since I for one had the pleasure of dining here,” she said pleasantly, “and I must say that we don’t have any place as charming as the Vic back in our capital city.”

“Well, you know, Your Honor,” Janet answered, deigning to use the honorific especially because she had just a few minutes earlier been presiding over the session during which the judge and her colleagues had been exposing their most private parts most humiliatingly to her gaze, “we feel we have managed to retain quite a bit of the best traditions here, even if in the old days, we as women were as subservient as elsewhere.”

Janet was referring to the time before the proclamation of the Women’s Republic, when men in effect controlled the country. Men were now truly second-class citizens in the state and even Eleanor, so harshly shamed just over a year previously, now was married and exercised the authority every married woman possessed now, as symbolized by the small marital cane she carried in her handbag.

Eleanor had not made great use of the cane as of yet, because she still felt not only love and affection for Jackson, her husband, who had married her despite her ignominious status and who moved with her to this city to start a new life, but because she had vowed to herself not to use the cane to dominate her husband merely because she could.

As the lunch party, which included the judges, Janet, Eleanor, Senior Correctional Officer Annette, and Janet’s colleagues at Goose Cookers Company, CEO Deb and Chair Toni, wound down, each of the three judges made sure to stop by and quietly chat with Eleanor to convey their personal feelings of regret for what they had imposed on her but now had been punished for themselves.

“Dear Eleanor,” Lesley said in a very quiet tone, “I do hope that we can put this behind us after a time, as I understand how you must feel. My feelings are in no way comparable”—and here the blonde judge blushed—”but I began to grasp merely the slightest bit of what you endured when I had to decide just now between two more cane strokes to my bare ass near my thighs or another stroke on my open pussy.

“And for me, dear,” she went on, in a tone so quiet that it was not heard by the others, “you were hurt and I feel for you, but if it’s shame, peeing like I did in that position gave me at least a tiny inkling of your torture. Please accept my very very sincere apology.”

Eleanor realized that this was not standard behavior by a judge at any level and she quietly, as quietly as the apology had been rendered, responded to Judge Lesley that she truly appreciated her saying what she did.

“I know I was not without fault, either,” she said openly to the blonde judge, “but now I do feel that you three have realized what going through even a few minutes of that kind of embarrassment means. Thank you again,” and she smiled a wide smile that Lesley emulated in return.

Later that day, after the judges had left to return to the capital with Annette, Janet summoned Eleanor back to her office. She told Eleanor how proud she was of how Eleanor had behaved during this necessarily ticklish occasion.

“I’m very very pleased at how that went, Ellie,” she began with a grin. “And I do hope you enjoyed seeing those three get whacked on their judicial wazoos,” she added, almost laughing at her remark.

“Oh, I did, Janet, I did,” Eleanor responded, “but I also appreciated their personally apologizing to me, especially what Lesley said. They are decent ladies, and maybe this experience has broadened their grasp of how they should behave in future.”

“No question about that,” Janet replied, “and where shall we head now that that’s over?”

Eleanor understood that Janet was bringing things back to the company, and she remarked that the ad campaign for the new Silly Goose lingerie for ladies had been producing surging sales. Women apparently possessed enough confidence now to let down their hair and buy underwear that was juvenile—that even had the famous Silly Goose logo on the bras and panties—to wear themselves and consequently assume a lighter outlook.

“I do have yet another thought about extending this product line,” Eleanor said brightly to her boss.

Janet looked up with expectant thoughts appearing across her usually impervious visage.

“I’m delighted that you haven’t let yourself rest on your…should I say laurels or goose down?” she chuckled.

“I kept thinking about how we could use the ‘What’s Good for the Goose’ line,” Eleanor began. “Then I found myself thinking, ‘Let’s give women something fun they can use to exert their authority’ and so I’m coming round to proposing that we produce some underwear for women to give the men in their lives.”

“Oh?” said Janet, not entirely clear yet as to what her imaginative new colleague had in mind.

“Yes,” Eleanor said, “we make underpants for men that look almost the same as panties and put the Silly Goose logo on them, so women will buy them and have the men wear them to show who’s in charge and the line, ‘What’s Good for the Goose Now is Perfect for the Gander, Too’ is a start for the campaign. We don’t have to dwell on women getting these for any special reason, like punishment or embarrassment. It can be fun for them like the undies we’re bringing out for women, but also the whole thing carries an undertone of the female dominance that the Women’s Republic indeed supports if it doesn’t always say so in so many words.”

Janet grinned and chuckled, “I have a feeling a certain husband of yours may be one of the first to find himself in these new undies.”

Eleanor blushed but retained her sense of buoyancy and laughed, “Yes, I might just try them out with him. Do you think this is a keeper?”

Janet let her thoughts emerge. “Yes,” she responded with care, “we will need to be very quiet about getting things ready and there will need to be a lot more effort than usual in deciding just how we bring this to market, but,” she paused for effect, “yes, I like it!”

Eleanor left for the day on a high. She returned home where Jackson was waiting for her to hear how the momentous meeting with the judges had gone.

She grinned as she related how the three were embarrassed and how she reveled very very quietly in her glee as she watched them lift their skirts, lower their panties, and take what was coming to them on their bare bottoms and open pussies.

Jackson let out a low whistle and managed to say that he would’ve loved to have seen it.

“Not half so much as I did, darling,” Eleanor let out with some vehemence, “and you know that no man will ever be allowed to see something like that happen.”

Jackson reacted uncharacteristically by sulking for a moment at the clear put-down from his wife, even if underneath he knew it was the truth about the man’s role in the Women’s Republic.

Eleanor went on to tell him, somewhat excitedly and not noticing his less-than-enthralled demeanor, about her latest idea for Goose Cookers.

“You don’t expect me to wear those,” he snapped, definitely without thinking about how she would react.

“I damned well do,” she quickly shot back, and showed her annoyance at his condescension.

Jackson still did not realize how much he had provoked the woman whom he loved and who loved him, but who was definitely the one in charge of the household.

“I’m disappointed in you,” she said, still also bearing just the vestiges of her resentment against the judges, who after all, had been humiliated, but for a few minutes, not a whole year, she thought.

Unfortunately for him, Jackson was very slow on the pickup today, and he didn’t see how deep her disappointment was, so he merely shrugged.

Eleanor now was fuming, and without thinking more, she said sternly, “You’re in need of some real correction and I’m going to see that you get it.”

The heavy tone in her voice finally awakened him to what he now realized, too late, was real danger and he looked at her pleadingly, “I’m sorry, dear.”

“Not good enough,” she said, “and neither is the little cane. I’m sending you to the Men’s Camp.”

Jackson blanched and began to sob while he pleaded with his still angry wife for mercy, or at least, mitigation.

But Eleanor was in no mood for compromise. She took out her computer-phone and filled out a form that she had been given access to when she had been married, as were all women now, and it was a request for discipline. On it, she wrote, “My husband needs a few weeks of re-training at the Men’s Camp.”

She received back an instant response from the Women’s League office and read it with notable lack of emotion to her now very apologetic but resigned husband: “Please present your husband at the League office during business hours and he will be sent to the Men’s Camp for an initial re-training. Be aware that this will be for a three-week period barring further misbehavior on his part. Signed, Roberta, Disciplinary Officer, Women’s League, District 17.”

“OK, Jackson,” Eleanor said firmly. “You’re coming with me and I hope you behave so I see you in three weeks. Don’t bother to pack because they won’t let you bring anything with you anyway.”

Jackson was still stupefied that his remark had engendered such horrible consequences for him. But he thought about what Eleanor had gone through and that she had obviously been needy today even with her revenge of sorts, and probably because it was exciting but taxing, and of course did not come close to erasing her own suffering.

“I’m sorry, dear,” he said, with deference, “and I will learn my lesson and hope to be better to you when I get back. Please put in a word for me when you can if you so can bring yourself.”

Eleanor was already slightly sorry that she had reacted so strongly, but underneath, she was similar to many women in the Republic in harboring resentments still unallayed, and in her case, especially because she had to face the fact that Graham was still unpunished and Gail had really done her ill.

They did not speak in the car on the way to the League office, but when there, Eleanor filled out the required forms and did mark where there was a place to request level of discipline that he should get “light” which was the lowest level there was. Jackson kept silent which he knew was the best course, and the uniformed woman soon ordered him to enter the well-known door behind her which would lead to where he would be transported to a Men’s Re-Orientation Camp.

He walked through the door, the uniformed officer smiled at Eleanor, and said to her after he was gone, “Don’t worry, honey, you did the right thing—they all need some of this, I can tell you from what I’ve read and seen.”

Eleanor somewhat regretted her hastiness to effectively sentencing her loving husband to three weeks of humiliating treatment for one moment of annoyance but she went back to her office and managed to summon up courage to confide in Janet, her boss and new friend.

“You did act a bit quickly and roughly, sweetie,” Janet said, still smiling, “but I’m pleased to see that you have some nice backbone. He’ll survive and be nicer, just wait.”

Jackson joined six other men who were waiting until the uniformed officer appeared and ordered them to stand and get on the transport. They were forced to stand, although there were seats on the airport bus-like conveyance. All the men knew that they could not sit without being told to do so and none dared request permission.

When they reached the camp, which was located outside the city and behind a large stockade wall, the woman driver ordered them to get off the conveyance and line up next to the bus.

Soon, a tall redhaired female in khaki uniform appeared and stood in front of them and started speaking very harshly to them.

“I am Sergeant Denise,” she began. “You will never address me as anything but ‘Sergeant’ or ‘Sergeant Denise’ and I don’t need to see you smile, either. You are here for three weeks if you behave yourselves. If you don’t, you will find the consequences unpleasant and you will also be re-cycled for a further three more intensive weeks. I suggest you do what you are told, get re-oriented, and you will be on your way. Some of you do not believe me. You will be very sorry. I will control everything you do for these three weeks. When and if you sleep. Or eat. Or use the toilet. So get with it and don’t bust my chops. Now march and we’ll show you to your quarters.”

Sergeant Denise was very attractive, Jackson thought, but he certainly made sure he didn’t say anything about that to her or anyone else. He still had trouble not staring at women’s boobs and looking to see up a skirt that may have ridden up or flipped up in the wind.

It was only six p.m., but when they reached the barracks, they were made to make their beds, given their uniforms, which were plain and highly unflattering, and told to wash their faces, brush their teeth using the kit they had been given, and to relieve themselves.

When Sergeant Denise returned a half hour later, all were standing in the barracks, she whistled them to attention, and told them that for their first night, they would be put to bed early, right then. No one dared to complain about both the humiliation and their not getting any supper.

She left and re-appeared at five a.m. She carried a large box and passed out plain white panties to each man.

“You will wear these today to indicate that you are new trainees,” she said, without emotion. “If you behave for a few days, you will get male underwear back. If you don’t you will get ruffled punishment panties and other punishment devices. Don’t push me or try to resist or you will be very unhappy. You can wear your uniform shirts and then just these panties. No trousers and no shorts. Every man in this camp has gone through this so no one will dare laugh at you.”

Jackson listened, accepted a pair of white shiny panties as did the other men, and put them on. He felt ridiculous but understood that this was the purpose of the treatment. He looked round at the other men. They looked non-descript and pretty well cowed so that no one seemed prone to test the clearly highly dominant Sergeant Denise. She was wearing a well-tailored khaki uniform, with her sergeant’s stripes on the short sleeve and a few medals on her chest, which itself was formidable.

Jackson figured she was at least 36C but tried to think instead about his wife, whom he loved even though she had sent him to this awful place for three whole weeks. He then recalled that she had had her snatch sewn up for a year, so he let himself feel some empathy for her.

Denise noticed him musing and said, “You there. Your mind is wandering. You’re not trying to imagine me without clothes, are you?”

“No, no, Sergeant Denise,” he remembered to say, but she had seen what he was thinking.

“Get up here!” she barked.

He quickly walked to stand before her and she ordered him to bend over.

He did so, and her thumbs went in the waistband of his white panties and pulled them down to his knees. Then she retrieved her whippy thin cane from her handbag which had the other men all take in a deep breath just seeing what they knew was an implement likely to sting all of their bottoms during their re-training.

Jackson realized he looked ridiculous bent over with a military uniform shirt and white panties at his knees with plain black shoes and socks. But he forgot any embarrassment about that when he felt Sergeant Denise apply her cane thrice to his posterior.

“You will thank me for correcting you,” she intoned. “Say it like this, and all of you remember this, ‘Thank you for correcting me, Sergeant Denise.’”

Jackson repeated the required thank you and she motioned to him to return to the line. He looked down now as did most of the others.

“All of you,” she said loudly. “You will not look down, you will look straight ahead as a sign of respect for the superior woman. You will not stare at my chest or my skirt or my legs.”

She then marched them down the road to a large enclosure. Other men similarly dressed, some with pink panties and others with yellow ones, all humiliating, were standing in lines with similarly-uniformed and almost uniformly gorgeous sergeants.

Soon a slightly older but very fine-looking woman appeared on a platform in front of them wearing a fancier uniform with braid and crests and many medals. Her lustrous auburn hair was mostly concealed under her military hat and she also wore a full uniform jacket and tie.

“I am Commandant Elizabeth,” she announced. “You are all here to be re-trained. You will keep your noses and your crotches clean and you will go home in three weeks with new respect for the female of the species. You will do exactly what your sergeants tell you to do and nothing else.

“Any problems and you will be very sorry,” she went on. “I require a man to serve me and my staff in the toilet. You will not enjoy this duty. Get on my wrong side or that of one of my sergeants and it will be you who serves us. You will get three square meals, very healthy ones in all meanings of that word. Your sergeants will give you breaks in training for your personal needs. Use them. They are allotted on the basis of need not your convenience. Don’t come crying that you didn’t take care of your needs then or you will be asking for trouble.”

Jackson listened carefully and looked straight at Commandant Elizabeth. He was willing to play the game and do what he was told to get through this. He was beginning to understand a little of what Eleanor had gone through, despite the vast difference in what each had been subjected to by way of punishment.

Another boring day staring at the video monitors. At least he could make his rounds soon. He’d have a chance to walk around the large mall. He had been working here for about four months as a security guard. It was dull but at least it paid the bills. He hoped to save enough to go to Tech School in the fall.

As Jeff walked the mall, he looked at all the hot girls and women. This was the best part of the job, especially when one of them saw his uniform and approached him for directions or to ask a question.

“If I could only get my foot out of my mouth,” he thought. Jeff was really shy. His parents had moved him across the country several times when he was young so he’d never had many friends. He’d been a loner in high school and even though he was now twenty-one, he’d still never had a girl friend. He just didn’t have the guts to talk to girls. He’d blush and stammer.

When the mall closed for the night, Jeff went around checking for stragglers, locked all of the exterior doors and returned to the security office. He had something on his mind. While looking at the security monitors today, he had seen a folder on the computer’s desktop that was locked and password protected. He wondered what it was. He knew that the file must be one that only his boss the Security Director could access. He thought about what the password could be. He knew that all his boss really cared about was sports, and never stopped talking about UCLA, so Jeff started trying passwords. After several attempts, he tried “UCLABruins” and to his surprise the file opened. Bingo! He was in.

The file was huge and separated into smaller folders named after each store in the mall. These files were full of video clips. He clicked the folder for ‘Teens and More’, a store with hot clothing for girls in their teens and twenties, then clicked on the first video. “Oh my God, these are video files for the dressing rooms! No wonder that only my boss has access to them.”

First he sees a shot with a young teen entering the dressing room. He quickly shuts the file. “No, I’m not THAT kind of pervert.” He goes to another file and clicks on it. It’s a clip showing two of the store’s pretty young female employees walking in together, each with an armful of tops and short skirts. They set down the clothes, and giggling, they both quickly strip to their panties. His eyes took in their young tits The taller one was dark-haired, with large, firm breasts. The blond was shorter, with a small, sexy chest and long pointed nipples.

They helped each other into short skirts while remaining topless. They teasingly rubbed and pinched each other’s breasts and nipples as they giggled and tried to spin away from each other.

“Holy shit!,” Jeff’s cock had become as hard as a rock, and he squeezed it through his uniform pants. He knows that it was late, the mall employees had all left, and he had locked the doors behind them. He opened his belt and the clasp of his pants and slid them to his knees. His boxers went next, and he began stroking his cock as he stared at the scene in front of him.


Kristine and Mara had stayed late at ‘Teens and More’. They had been short-handed, as two girls had called in sick. Since they had to clean and re-stock by themselves, they were running quite late. Finally, they locked the store and headed for the exit. When they got there, all the doors were locked. “Oh shit, we’ll be locked in all night!” panicked Mara. But Kristen remembered that she had once seen the security room way in the back. She had helped two movers to bring in a new display for the store through a seldomly-used back entrance, and had seen the room marked ‘Security’.

“Come on, Mara, I know where the Security office is. Maybe we can find someone there and have them let us out.”

The entire mall was dark, and Mara followed as they twisted through the back corridors and found the room. As Kristen was about to open the door, she heard someone inside. “Oh God, squeeze those pointy little nipples.” She looked at her roommate Mara and put her finger to her lips signaling quiet. She silently turned the knob, and lightly pushed the door open.

They couldn’t believe what they saw. There sat a boy about their age with his cock in his hand, stroking it hard and fast. He was staring at a computer screen at what she assumed must be porn. Signaling quiet again to Mara they both crept slowly into the room, staying just behind the boy’s field of vision. As they got closer, Kristen noticed two things. First, his cock was a whopper, long and fat, and the tip was wet with moisture. The second was the video. It showed her and Mara in the ‘Teens and More’ dressing room! They were both topless, and pulling on each other’s nipples. The video was from today just before opening time.

Kristen was furious. How could this pervert peek at her like that? She was about to speak when she had another idea. She slipped out her phone, and started the video recorder. She first focused on the computer screen, then pulled out to show the boy in the security guard uniform. Then she quietly stepped back toward the door, which showed him from the side. It was clear that he was pounding his cock, and was nearly ready to shoot his load. “Oh no you don’t'”, she thought. She spoke in a level voice.

“What have we here?”

Jeff spun in his chair to see the dark-haired girl from the dressing room video holding up her phone. Her face carried an evil look between a smile and a taunt. He madly tried to pull up his pants. Then the other girl from the video stepped into the light.

The dark-haired girl was angry. “How dare you stare at Mara and me and jack off! I’m sure that when your boss sees the video I’ve recorded, you’ll not only lose your job, but I’ll make sure that my boss presses criminal charges as well!”

Jeff could only stammer as he turned even redder while trying to hold his pants up. As he was about to speak, the girl cut him off. She reached to the desk, picked up a pen and wrote something on a piece of paper. She handed it to him. It showed an address and a time, the time being midnight.

She went on. “Unless you want to be disgraced, fired, and end up in jail, be at that address at midnight. Don’t you say a word. Just let us out of the mall. And, don’t finish jacking off, either.”

Jeff stammered, “look, I’m sorry, please don’t…” She cut him off. “Quiet! Just let us out of here.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.

He quickly led them through the corridors to the the main entrance and turned the key. As the girls slipped through the door, the dark-haired girl stopped with her face only inches from his and said, “be there at midnight, and no jacking off.” He pulled the door closed and locked it.

Jeff’s mind was racing. “Oh shit, I am truly fucked now. What will my parents think? Will I get fired? Or go to jail?” As he made his way back to his office, he knew what had to be done. “I’ve got to convince those girls to keep that video to themselves. That means that I’ve got to keep the midnight appointment.”


Kristen had always been a strong-willed and pretty girl. In fact, most boys found her beautifully irresistible. She had long, thick, dark hair, green eyes, and a classically shaped Mediterranean face. Her breasts were a 36C, with a slim waist that flared to shapely hips, and long smooth legs. She currently didn’t have a boyfriend, although she had had many boys. She loved all kinds of sex.

Lately, she had become more interested in admiring all of the pretty girls that came into ‘Teens and More’. She had masturbated to the thought of her cute roommate Mara. She had even instigated the event in the dressing room today when she squeezes Mara’s cute nipple.

Mara had moved in with Kristen after answering a housing ad on the internet. She had just relocated from the midwest, and came to California to look for a job and, hopefully, a future. She and Kristen had hit it off immediately, and Kristen had gotten her a job at the clothing store where she worked. Six months later, they were the best of friends.

Mara had the girl-next-door look. She wasn’t a knockout like Kristen or as tall, but she had a firm, lean, athletic body. Blond hair hung around her thin face, blue eyes and small thin mouth. Her breasts were a firm 34B leading down to a thin waist and smallish hips. She walked loosely and confidently like the athlete that she had been in school. She loved looking at Kristen, and had even let Kristen touch her breasts in the dressing room, only so that she could touch Kristen’s. Mara had had boyfriends back home and a few one-nighters since moving here. She was no stranger to sex.

As the girls entered the apartment, she asked Kristen why she had invited the security guard over. Kristen grinned wickedly and said, “you’ll see,” as she headed for the shower. “I’ll shower first then it’s your turn. Put on some music, and open a bottle of wine. We’ll have to hurry. Oh, and make sure to dress slutty.” She was in the bathroom and closing the door before Mara had a chance to reply.


Jeff found the address and parked his car. He hadn’t had time to go home, and was still in his security guard uniform. He was very nervous as he rehearsed his apologies and excuses. He had decided that he would offer them nearly anything to destroy the video. Gathering his courage, he went up the steps, found the right apartment, and knocked on the door.

Mara was just returning to the living room when there was a knock on the door. Kristen moved towards the door. “Wait”, Mara said, “what’s your plan? Even though his cock is huge, I don’t fuck just anybody!” Kristen came to her and put her hands on Mara’s hips. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “I don’t either. We’re just going to have some fun, not fuck him.” With that she turned for the door, and quickly pulled it open.

“Come in.”

Jeff entered sheepishly and Kristen closed the door.

“Please, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything…”

Kristen held up her hand to stop him. She firmly said, “please, be quiet and just listen.” She ushered him into the middle of the living area and stepped close at his side. Mara moved closely to his other side.

Kristen spoke. “What’s your name?”

“Jeff”, he said.

“I’m Kristen and this is Mara,” she replied.

“Alright, Jeff. You know that we caught you in a criminal and immoral act. You know that we could basically ruin your life. Correct?” He nodded his head, staring at the floor. “Look at us”, Kristen said sharply, and he looked her into her eyes, and then into Mara’s.

“We’re not mean girls’”, she continued. “We don’t particularly want want to ruin you. But, we’re both deeply offended that you were spying on us, and on our customers at the store. You have abused your position as a security guard, abused the trust of every store, and everyone in the mall. We WILL expose you if you don’t do exactly as we say.” She paused, and looked at Mara, who had an excited look in her eyes. “Jeff, if you want us to keep quiet, you have to agree to do as we say. Do you agree that this is fair?”

His face was deeply red as he looked at her and nodded, then turned and looked at Mara and nodded again. “Mara, do you think that it is fair for us to punish Jeff?” Mara slowly looked Jeff over from head to toe. She smiled widely at Kristen. “Absolutely,” she replied with a wink, which Jeff noticed.

They both looked at Jeff, and Kristen spoke. “So, now, Jeff, for your punishment……strip!”

Jeff’s mouth dropped open as the girls just smiled. He started to speak, but Kristen said, “Oh, and don’t say a word.”

Jeff’s frightened stare passed quickly back and forth between the girls. Kristen bent down and slid the coffee table from in front of the couch into the corner. She got behind Jeff, put her hands on his shoulders, and guided him to just in front of the couch. Then, she took Mara’s hand and led her to the couch, where they both sat down, looking up at Jeff.

“Begin, and do it slowly,” purred Kristen.

Jeff felt shear panic. He had never been naked in front of a girl, much less two beauties like these. Their predatory leers only made him blush more.

“Would you prefer to get naked in a prison shower?” Kristen said sharply. She softened. “Now relax and take it off. Slowly. We want to see your big cock.”

Although terrified, Jeff’ felt his cock throb at her words. “Maybe this won’t be so bad,” he thought. “I guess I’ve got no choice.” He slowly loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his top button. His hands shook as he removed his tie and dropped it on the floor. Then he very slowly started to work his way down the row of buttons. He pulled the shirt tails from his pants and loosened the cuffs. He slid the shirt from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor leaving him in his t-shirt. Sighing, he bent and removed his shoes and socks. Then he reached down and peeled off his t-shirt while looking at the girls.

Mara looked him in the eyes and slowly licked her lips. “Hmm, not a bad chest for a pervert.”

He blushed, but felt his cock throb again. He was now nearly hard, and his cock pushed against the front of his pants.

Kristen leaned forward and stared at the outline of his cock. “I knew that the pervert would like this. Look, Mara, he’s already hard.”

“Yes”, she replied. “The pervert likes spying on girls, and he apparently likes flashing his cock at them, too. Alright pervert Jeff, time to finish the show.”

Jeff had never been so embarrassed in his life. He was about to show himself to two fully clothed and smirking girls. He shakily undid his belt, then the clasp of his pants, then his zipper. Closing his eyes, he let the pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his boxers. He opened his eyes and looked down. He could not look at the girls. He kicked his pants aside.

Both girls leaned forward on the couch. Their eyes were only a foot away from his cock, which he was trying to cover with his hands.

He could feel Kristen’s breath upon him as she spoke. ” OK, drop them. then cross your wrists behind your back, feet apart.”

Jeff let out an anguished, soft moan as he closed his eyes, slipped his thumbs into the sides of his boxers, and lifted them around his cock, He dropped them to the floor and kicked them away. He pulled his hands behind his back, and widened his stance.

Both girls were purring wide-eyed as they stared at his cock. Kristen spoke softly. “Holy shit, look at that cock! It’s fucking huge, and as fat as my arm!”

“And look at those huge balls hanging down! They look like fucking tennis balls!” whispered Mara.

“Jeff, you deliciously shy boy, keep your eyes closed and stay still while we perform our inspection. Me first, Mara.” cooed Kristen. She slid forward to the edge of the couch, reached, and slowly wrapped her hand around the fat cock. Jeff’s body shivered at her touch. She slowly slid her hand to the base, then up to just under the head. Then using just her fingertips, she slid them all around the smooth head, finally using them to pull open the center slit.

In an excited whisper Kristen said, “Shit, Mara, you are not going to believe this thing. I’ve handled more than a few cocks, but never one close to this one.” She slid her hand down again, then slowly slid even further underneath until she was cupping his big, heavy balls. “Oh, man, since we didn’t let the pervert get off when he was looking at our tits these things are full and swollen. This is going to be great. Mmnn. OK, your turn, Mara.”

“What was going to be great?” thought Jeff? “Are they going to fuck him or suck me?” The idea made his cock pulse even more.

Now it was Mara’s turn to slide closer. She moved her face to just inches from his upright cock. Kristen slid closer, too.

Mara was panting softly as she moved her head and eyes around to see his cock from all sides. He could feel her hot breath.

She spoke quietly. “Look, Kristen, you can see it pulse with his heartbeat.” She raised her left hand and cupped it under his big balls, hefting them like she was weighing them. She wrapped her right hand around the base of his shaft. She held it tightly, and started a slow jacking off motion. A pulse of pre-cum oozed from the tip. Both girls sucked in their breath as they watched.

“Easy, Mara, we don’t want it to blow.” breathed Kristen. Mara slowly and reluctantly let go of his manhood. Kristen gently ran her fingertip over the head of his cock and brought up her hand. She had a drop of pre-cum clinging to her fingertip and she showed it to Mara. Looking Mara in the eyes, Kristen slowly brought her finger to her mouth, sucked the tip, and moaned. She swiped the finger over his cock head again and held her fingertip to Mara’s lips. Mara looked at her with glassy eyes full of lust and slowly tongued the offered fingertip. She moaned and licked her lips.

Kristen stood up and said, “I have an idea, Mara. I want to measure this big cock completely. I’ll get a tape measure and you get your good camera. Shoot close-ups from every angle. Give him a stroke every now and then to keep it rock hard, but whatever you do don’t let him come. Then we’ll shoot shots of each of us holding his cock, and finally we’ll use the timer to get some shots of us both squeezing his cock at the same time.” Mara squealed and jumped up with a huge smile.

“Pictures?” Jeff said, “but..”

“Silence, cockboy,” scolded Kristen. “Did you forget that we control your fate now?” She softened her tone. “Open your eyes.” He did, and saw the two girls standing close and staring into his eyes. She continued, “The pictures are for us personally. As long as you’re a good cockboy, no one else will see them. This is part of your punishment. Don’t move a muscle and keep your hands behind your back.” Both girls left the room.

They returned, Mara with her camera with the zoom lens, and Kristen with a cloth tape measurer, pen and paper. They each briefly stroked his cock and he let out tortured moan. Kristen set the tape measure against the top side of his cock at the base and ran it to the tip. “Eight and seven eighths inches. Jesus” Mara snapped a picture of the tape measure laying along his cock, with Kristen’s fingers pinching the tape at the 8-7/8″ mark.

Kristen moved around and started measuring his cock in every way. Circumference at the base, at mid shaft, and just under the swollen head. More pre-cum was oozing as Mara took shot after shot. Kristen carefully measured the ridge at the base of his cock head, then over the top of the head from front to back. She was tempted to stroke him but she knew that he was close and that his cock was fully engorged. Click went the camera.

She release his cock and it sprung back up, slapping Jeff’s belly. He groaned as he looked on.

Kristen grabbed the loose skin at the bottom of his scrotum with both hands. She pulled down as far as she could, and to the sides. “We don’t want you to come yet, now, do we?” she giggled. She gently grabbed a ball in each hand and pulled them down, away from his body. “We don’t want them to pull tight so that you can shoot off!” Jeff let out a loud “oh”, but it was not from pain. Mara continued to click away.

Kristen was ready to begin measuring his balls when she noticed the the cloth tape measure was wet on the bottom from his pre-cum. “Jeff,” she said in a light, mocking voice, “I can’t use this with your cum on it.” She lifted the wet area to his lips and said, “be a good cockboy and clean this off for me. Lick, cockboy.” Jeff was beyond resisting, and licked the area clean. He looked up at Mara’s smiling face as she caught the photo. “Good cockboy.” Kristen went to her knees, and started measuring his balls and sack in every way that she could imagine. Mara’s digital camera clicked away.

Finally, Kristen pulled Jeff’s balls down once again, then stood up. Jeff still had his legs spread, and his hands crossed behind his back.

The day started out wonderfully. It was sunny but not too hot and with a very pleasant summer breeze that drifted the sweet scent of honeysuckle thru the house making everything seem relaxing, airy and full of life. “How could such a great day turn out so lousy?” Kassie thought a couple hours later as she stood naked and miserable with her nose pressed into the living room corner. Try as she might she never could manage to stay out of trouble for long and now here she was once again, about to get her soft bottom soundly spanked.

“All right Kassie, come here and present yourself for inspection, you know the routine.” Jeffery, her husband, said with an exasperated sigh. He loved spanking her bottom but he greatly preferred doing it as foreplay rather than discipline. He hated hurting the woman he loved in any capacity but he knew it had to be done and done well. Kassie being 12 years his junior, still needed a firm hand to teach her to start taking responsibility for her actions and to think before she did things.

“Yes Sir.” Kassie replied as she turned and walked toward Jeffery. Every step she took was a struggle. It felt as though her feet were suctioning to the floor. She stood before him, pleading with her eyes for him not to make her present herself to him, not to punish her for what she did. She didn’t think it was such a big deal. After all, all she did was take a quick dip in the pool in the back yard. “Okay,” she thought to herself, “so it was actually skinny dipping but they had a privacy fence! How was she too know that the neighbors were getting their roof refinished and that it was covered with men working!?”

When Jeff came home from work and seen her swimming nude while the workmen actually stopped working and were sitting along the roofline enjoying the view, he was livid! He yelled for her to get out of the pool, and spanked her soaking wet bottom all the way into the house and into the corner while the workers cheered. Once she was in the corner he still didn’t stop, he just lectured and spanked her bottom hard for 5 more minutes making it so red it practically glowed. Before leaving her he ordered, “Move one inch, young lady, and your backside will be blistered every day for a week!” There wasn’t any way she was going to move. Once during another punishment session, he had threatened that very same thing and she thought he wasn’t serious so once she was tired of standing in the corner she sat down. She found out just how serious he was when she found herself with a very well punished bottom several times a day for a week just as he promised!

“You know the routine Kassie. No sweet innocent looks are getting you out of this so present yourself at once or I will double all the punishments that I have planned for you!” Jeff said.

Immediately she turned around so her back was facing him. She spread her legs wide and bent over at the waist; thrusting her already reddened bottom out. Reaching back she spread her bottom cheeks wide so he was presented with a perfect view of her pussy and anus. He didn’t know what was redder, the blush he could see on her cheeks or the one his hand had caused on her smooth bottom. He knew she hated this, but he believed that a certain amount of humiliation always did her good. “After all, if she could present her body to the workmen while she was in the pool she most certainly could present it to her husband!” He thought.

“Mmmmmmmm…very nice view my dear! Now be sure to keep those cheeks spread wide.” Jeffery said as he reached between her spread legs and ran his hands up her thighs. He quickly shoved two fingers deep inside her wet pussy, twisting them as they went inside. He fucked her pussy hard with his fingers making her squirm and moan aloud.

“Don’t you dare cum young lady; you know you are not permitted to unless I give you permission!”

“Yes Sir, I understand. I will try not to.” Kassie managed to say while trying desperately to hold back her orgasm. She never understood why she got so incredibly horny while being punished when everything usually hurt so badly.

Sliding his fingers from her soaking pussy, Jeffery spread some of her juice on her anus; Kassie tensed up, she hated anal play. Seeing her anus contract, Jeffery swatted her bottom hard, first on the left cheek, then on the right, leaving two perfect scarlet hand prints.

“Relax your asshole Kassie, or it will hurt more. I will be inspecting it, whether I have to force my way in or not!” Jeffery admonished her.

Instantly Kassie relaxed it as best she could. She knew that Jeff meant every word he said. He wasn’t one to mince words, especially when it had to do with a discipline session.

Seeing that she had relaxed it somewhat, Jeffery roughly shoved his middle finger deep inside her back passage. Pulling it out slowly, and then ramming it in deeply, over and over again. Kassie cried out with each thrust but still managed to keep her bottom cheeks spread for him. It felt like he was rubbing her tiny bottom hole raw. After a few minutes Jeff felt her bottom relax a bit so he inserted a second finger and resumed his anal play. This made Kassie squirm a bit which earned her another hard swat on her bottom.

“I’m sorry for squirming Jeff, but please, please stop! It hurts so much!” Kassie pleaded to no avail.

“My fingers are nothing compared to my cock, which you will be receiving up this tight ass of yours shortly. Be thankful I am preparing you the way I am. It won’t hurt so much now that I have you stretched out a bit.” Jeff said, still fucking her ass eagerly with his thick fingers. After several more minutes of his ministrations Jeff finally pulled his fingers from her bottom, much to Kassie’s relief.

“All right Kass, it’s time for your next punishment. Go and get the hairbrush.”

Walking a little stiff because of the pain in her anus, she went and retrieved the hairbrush from the implement case in the bedroom. She knew that soon her bottom would be on fire which excited her, but filled her with much dread at the same time. She walked back to Jeff, kneeled and held the hair brush out to him.

“Please Sir, spank me with this brush on my naughty bare bottom so I will learn to think before my actions.” Kassie said, while a hot blush rose to her cheeks. She HATED asking for a spanking. She knew though, that if she didn’t he would assume she forgot and she would get a reminder spanking on top of the impending hair brushing.

“Good girl Kassie. Get across my lap now; let’s get that bottom nice and hot.”

Kassie crawled over his lap and positioned herself with her ass high over his left knee and her nose practically touching the floor. She was so tiny and short that her toes were never able to quite touch the floor. Jeff quickly locked her legs under one of his to keep her from kicking. He rubbed her bottom for a few minutes. Her bottom was as soft and smooth as a newborn babe. He reached between and felt her wetness coat his fingers. Sliding one into her pussy Kassie squirmed and uttered a soft gasp. He quickly pulled his fingers from her and grabbed the hairbrush bringing it down sharply on her bottom.

SWAAAT! She bucked under the first blow but was unable to move much for he had her pinned firmly.

SWAAT! SWAT! WHACK! The blows were coming one every couple of seconds. Never in any certain order so she never had a clue where the next one was to land. He concentrated most of the blows on her tender sit spot and thighs. After just few minutes her tears where flowing freely. Her bottom was dark red and felt like it was scorched.

WHACK! WHACK! SWAAAT! “Are you EVER going to…” *SWWAT* “skinny dip…” *WHACK! * “…in the back yard again?” *WHAM!*

“No sir!” *WHACK* “I promise I won’t!” Kassie said thru a sob.

“You’d better not or what you’re getting tonight will seem like a smack on the hand!” Jeff said while continuing to swat her bottom. “One minute more and then your hair brushing will be over.”

Whack! Whack! Swat! The blows continued for the minute but were dealt out slightly softer than when Jeff originally started. He wanted to punish her, not be overtly cruel. The minute seemed like an hour to Kassie but she took her spanking well, not once trying to cover her bottom.

Jeff finally stopped the spanking and started to softly rub her bottom, letting Kassie stay over his knees until her crying slowed. After a couple minutes, he heard her sobbing cease and told her to get up and stand in the corner. Hiccupping and feeling very punished she walked to the corner and stood facing the wall, wondering if her punishment was over or if she had much more to face. Her answer came a few minutes later when Jeff in a very stern voice, ordered her back over to him.

“All right Kassie, here is the deal.” Jeff said. “You get to choose your own punishment right now. I’ll give you two choices. One, you can submit to ten strokes of the cane and I’ll fuck your ass gently, and slowly while you are lying across pillows on our bed. Or two, we can stick to my original plan of giving you four strokes of the cane but you will fuck me with your ass, right here while I sit on the couch. The catch is, you will have exactly one minute to impale yourself completely on my cock. Every ten seconds over that minute will be an extra stroke of the cane. So what will it be my dear? A guaranteed ten stokes only and being taken slowly and gently? Or are you willing to take your chances of receiving only four, by which you will have to take me up your very tight bottom quickly and painfully? Possibly earning yourself much more than ten strokes?”

Kassie stood stunned. Jeff never gave her an ultimatum like this! What a choice! Either way will be rough! She didn’t think she could take ten with the cane, but what if she earned more by taking the other route? The cane was the most dreaded implement in their discipline arsenal. She absolutely loathed it, and whether it was one stroke or four, she couldn’t sit for days after its use on her bottom. She had never earned more than six. Usually four was what was administered, with extras added on if she got out of position or interfered with the punishment. What a dilemma!

She thought for a minute and knew that he was getting unsettled by her taking so long so finally she made her decision.

“I-I’ll take the four Sir, and take the chance of earning more.” Kassie said softly.

He smiled at her decision and secretly hoped that she would make the time limit. He didn’t want to give her ten. In fact he didn’t want to give her over four, but he would if he she earned them. He knew the cane was horribly painful and made a decision that if she earned over six the others would be delivered light enough to only sting. Of course, she wouldn’t know that right now.

“Good now you know the deal, you have one minute to impale your ass on my cock. Every ten seconds over that minute will result in an extra stroke of the cane. You are already getting four with it so if I were you I’d try very hard to hurry. Now go get the lube, the count down will start once you are lubed up. No dawdling on getting the lube either!”

Kassie hurried down the hallway to their bedroom where the lube was located. A deep sense of dreadful anticipation was sitting rock like in her gut. She could feel her juices dripping down her legs. She never understood how she could get so excited by being under his control and being in pain. She found the lube and hurried back to him, handing him the tube.

“Okay Kassie, you lube my cock and I’ll lube your bottom hole. Once my finger stops spreading it the clock starts. Got it?”

“Yes Sir.” Kassie replied

Jeffery opened the tube and gave her a pea sized amount on her finger.

“Sir? Is this all I am to get?” She said with a shocked look in her eyes.

“I said we would use lube. I didn’t say we would use a lot of it. I want some friction on my cock when you fuck me, now lube me up.”

The sense of dread doubled when she spread the lube and it was only enough to cover the head of his cock. He was a well built man with a very large cock. With only the head covered it left almost seven and a half inches un-lubed.

“Okay Kassie, turn around and spread ‘em. Let me get you lubed up.” Jeff said, his cock was now so hard it was hurting. He couldn’t wait to get it buried up her bottom. He loved the tightness squeezing his cock that you get with anal sex. Kassie refuses to do it under normal circumstances so he takes advantage of it when its punishment time.

Kassie turned and bent over; reached back and spread her bottom cheeks wide to expose her anus to his ministrations. Jeff used more than a pea sized amount on her anus, unbeknownst to her. He didn’t want to damage her in any way; he just wanted her to THINK that she was barely lubed. He made sure she was well lubed and pulled his finger away.

“The time starts now Kassie.” Jeff said.

Kassie immediately reached between his legs and guided his hard cock to her back entrance. She felt the head touch her anus and started to slowly sink down, feeling it stretch her anus wider and wider. She let out a loud moan when the head finally popped inside her sore bottom. She started to lower herself upon him, taking him deeper, centimeter by centimeter. It hurt so bad that she didn’t think she would make the time limit.

“Thirty seconds gone Love, better hurry it up. You still have over half my cock to take in.”

With that she started to really push her way down, trying her best to ignore the pain radiating from her sore anus and bottom cheeks.

“Ten seconds left, your almost there.” Jeff said with slightly clenched teeth. The feeling of stretching her wide and her anus contracting around his hard cock was almost his undoing.

She knew that it was now or never so she quickly sat herself roughly on his cock; taking the remaining four inches at once. She thru her head back and let out a loud groan of pain.

“Good Girl, Kassie! You took it all within the time limit! I’m proud of you.” Kassie sighed in relief. “Now just rest a minute love, keeping me inside. Your bottom will become accustomed to having me in there and fucking me will be much less painful.”

Kassie was grateful to him. She knew that if he really wanted to he could make her start immediately, causing her to have a much more painful time of it. She also knew that it pained him at times to severely punish her like she sometimes deserved, like this time but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it if it was merited. She felt the love for him grow in her heart when she felt his hands gently massaging her back as she waited for the pain in her anus to ease. She knew he loved her and couldn’t wait for her punishment to be over so they could just hold one another and make love slowly.

Kassie started to slowly rock herself on his cock. The pain was easing a bit and she rocked faster and faster. She could feel every vein of his cock rubbing along the tight ring of her anus as it slid in and out of her. Her pussy was getting wetter and wetter. She could feel the wetness start to drip slowly to her thighs. The pain finally stopped and was replaced by pure, unimaginable pleasure Jeff reached around her, grabbing a breast in each hand, squeezing and gently tugging on her hardened nipples. He brought one hand down to start to rub and pinch on her engorged clit while still playing with her nipple with the other. After a bit, he stopped playing with her breasts and brought his other hand down to her pussy. While still tweaking and rubbing her clit with his right hand, he took his left and brought it to her pussy hole; shoving two fingers inside. He worked them in and out at a slow steady pace; doubly impaling her. She arched her back and moaned loudly, working herself up and down on him more quickly than ever before. Kissing her neck he said, “You feel so wonderful, so tight and hot! Oh Kassie, I love you. You have my permission to cum this time.”

Hearing this she started rocketing herself up and down on his cock. His fingers on her clit and buried deep in her pussy had her panting and moaning, ready to cum.

“I love you too, Jeffery. I never thought anal sex could feel like this! Your cock feels amazing inside me!”

She could feel his cock getting bigger in her anus; stretching her wider and wider. The pleasure coming from her anus and pussy was almost more than she could take when she felt his hot cum flood the inside of her bottom.

“Ahhhhww, I’m cumming”, Jeff managed to moan. His cock exploded inside her, filling her with his fluids. He started massaging her clit faster and faster, pressing down and swirling his fingertips around it. He fucked her pussy hard with his fingers until he felt her juices flow down onto his balls.

“Ahhh! I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” Kassie managed to say as her pussy started to spasm. Her anus clenched Jeff’s cock tighter, causing him to moan aloud. She felt his cock shrink and slip out of her as she collapsed against his chest. His arms where still around her. His fingers were still resting on her mound, holding her to him. They stayed that way until their breathing returned to normal. Then they moved apart and sat on the couch with their arms entwined around one another.

Jeff cuddled with her until they both regained some of their senses. He had always loved anal sex, but her enjoying it as she had made it even more amazing. They rested for almost a half hour before Jeff leaned her back and reminded her that her punishment wasn’t quite over. She still had a caning to contend with.

“Your rest is over, Love. Now get that nose pressed back into the corner. Spread those legs and thrust that bottom out so I can enjoy the view while I set things up for your caning.”

With a huge sigh Kassie walked back to the corner and did as she was told. She made sure her bottom was thrust out well giving Jeff the best view possible. Her bottom hole was still sore but she knew that she would never think of anal sex the same way again. She had just never relaxed enough to enjoy it before.

Jeff sat and just gazed upon her, relishing the exquisite view. He wondered what he ever did to get so lucky. Having such a beautiful woman in his life, falling in love, and her actually loving him back, was the best gift he could ever have received. Having her trusting him enough to see to her well being, punishing her when she needed it, was an added bonus. After a few moments he got a chair from the dining room and moved it to the center of the living room floor. He made his way down to the bedroom and retrieved the cane. Taking a few practice strokes he listened to its angry hiss and pictured it leaving its mark upon her smooth bottom. He felt his cock stir and decided he’d better get a move on. The faster he got her caning finished, the faster he could bury himself in her hot pussy.

He stood behind the chair cane in hand and called her to him.

Kassie somewhat reluctantly and with a very cute pout on her face, turned and walked to him.

“Bend over the back of the chair and grab the front legs, Kassie. You know the routine.” Jeff said ignoring the cute pout and sounding menacing. He couldn’t let her out of the caning no matter how cute she is or how much he dreaded hurting her with the cane. He found punishing her very arousing. Even a caning, though he knew how painful it was for her, still had the effect of making his cock rock hard.

Kassie leaned over the chair reaching for its front legs. She was so short that even on tiptoe she could barely touch the legs. Jeff watching her struggle for a couple minutes tossed the cane down, lifted her by the waist and placed her hips along the back of the chair which allowed her to wrap her fingers tightly around the legs. This also meant that her toes couldn’t reach the floor so she was suspended in the air and her bottom was perfectly positioned for the cane.

This story has more or less been a fantasy of mine for a long time. Another story idea would always pop into my head and take my attention away before it got written. I decided this story tickled me in too deliciously erotic of a way for it to languish any longer.


Morgan pressed with all her might against the shower door to no avail. Adorned in nothing but a towel, she wasn’t dressed for this. She had a pretty good idea about who was holding the door shut on the other end. His name was Kevin and he’d been picking on Morgan for years.

She decided to give it one last try before giving up. Morgan started to slam her shoulder into the door, but it swung open before she could. She lost her footing on the wet shower floor and fell face forward on the floor. Kevin started to laugh.

Morgan pushed herself up, accidentally losing her towel in the process. It fell down her body until she could catch it at her midsection. Her nipples started to stiffen in the cool air of the locker room. Morgan pulled the towel up over her sizable, jiggling breasts and tied it in a knot. A red embarrassment swept over her cheeks.

“Nice rack,” he laughed.

“Asshole,” she mumbled once he’d walked out of earshot. It all started when Morgan made her transition into womanhood. Anyone with half a brain knew that this was the real Morgan; that not-so-exclusive club didn’t include Kevin.

Morgan had become a beautiful woman over these last few years. She had a lovely feminine face, full breasts, a smooth figure with all the wonderful womanly curves you can imagine, and a nice tight ass which had turned more than a few heads. Kevin’s juvenile antics were nothing new to Morgan. He pulled this kind of stuff all the time.

She noticed her locker door was ajar. It wasn’t until Morgan noticed that something was missing that she started to get panicky. This wasn’t just any something. It was the locket her mother had given to Morgan before her death. Morgan’s heart was racing as she tore through the locker. It was really gone.

It was the end of the day, Morgan threw her clothes on with the hopes of catching him before he left school. She got more and more upset as she imagined never getting that locket back. She looked around and realized he’d already left school. Morgan skipped her bus in an effort to trail him home. It started raining as she walked.

There was no sight of him. Morgan’s eyes were red, the poor girl was nearly in tears by the time she turned up outside his house. She rung the doorbell in the rain and waited for an answer.

“Hello?” his mother answered the door. “Morgan, is that you?” she asked.

“Where’s Kevin?” Morgan said, in a soft, upset voice.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Get in here. It’s pouring cats and dogs out there,” Mrs. Thomas told her in a sweet, motherly tone.

“He, he took my locket. I tried to find him and then it started raining,” Morgan sniffled.

“Let me get you a towel, sweetheart.” Mrs. Thomas closed the door behind them and went to the hall closet. She appeared a minute later with a big, fluffy towel and wrapped it around Morgan’s shoulders. “Kevin took your locket? You mean the one you always wear?”

“Yes. It was gone from my locker after he was in there.” Morgan wiped her wet face off in the soft towel.

“Oh dear. I don’t know what to do with that boy sometimes. He was only home for a few minutes. He went to his room then left. Maybe he left it there. We’ll take a look. Okay sweetheart?” her bully’s mother smiled.

Morgan wondered how Kevin would react if he caught her in there as she followed Mrs. Thomas into his room. How could such a nice woman give birth to such a mean son? Morgan took in Mrs. Thomas’ shape as they walked. Everyone knew she was a milf. She was all blonde hair, big breasts and long legs.

Mrs. Thomas started rifling through Kevin’s desk while Morgan sat down kind of awkwardly on his bed. It didn’t look like he’d left the locket here. Mrs. Thomas looked through the nightstand and then gave Morgan a shrug. She sat down on the bed next to Morgan and used the towel to dry Morgan’s neck. “I know that Kevin picks on you. We’ve talked about it before. I tell you I don’t know what to do with that boy.”

“I just want my locket back is all.” As Morgan spoke, she could tell Mrs. Thomas wasn’t looking her in the face. Her eyes were fixed lower. Morgan looked down and saw her nipples were poking through her drenched shirt. Morgan self-consciously put an arm across her chest and said, “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten my bra in my rush to find Kevin.” Morgan’s cheeks were bright red.

“Sometimes I wish Kevin would shape up and have the sense to find a girl. A girl like you.” Mrs. Thomas tore her eyes from Morgan’s chest and looked up, almost like she’d come out of a trance, feeling a little embarrassed herself.

“A girl like me,” Morgan repeated the words and gave a little chuckle, “not a lot of people want a girl like me.” Morgan’s eyes drifted lower; she saw how stiff Mrs. Thomas’ nipples were.

Mrs. Thomas took note of it and told the young girl, “I don’t wear a bra around the house.” She had a mischievous smile on her face as she followed it up with, “They aren’t as high on my chest as they used to be. But they still get plenty of stares. Not as often from Mr. Thomas anymore.”

“I think they’re… umm… very nice.” Morgan gulped as she realized she had an erection. She considered herself a straight gal, but a girl could only take so much. The young girl couldn’t keep her eyes off Mrs. Thomas’ cleavage.

The only thing that broke Morgan’s staring was Mrs. Thomas’ lips. She leaned in and planted them softly on Morgan’s. Mrs. Thomas pressed her tongue against Morgan’s full lips and gently entered her mouth. Morgan was shocked, also too horny to care. Plus, she seemed to gain some perverse pleasure from knowing this wasn’t just any old milf. This was Kevin’s mom.

Their lips smacked together. Morgan moaned into the mouth of her tormentor’s mother when she felt the woman’s hand rub up her body and squeeze her breast. Morgan wrapped her arms around Mrs. Thomas’ body as the older woman plucked on her nipples. They kissed with a surprising fire and passion. Morgan put her worries to rest as they kissed and gave her entire body over to the experience.

Before either of them knew what had happened, Morgan was on top of Mrs. Thomas on Kevin’s bed and neither could stop pawing at the other’s clothing. Mrs. Thomas stripped her blouse off in between frantic kissing and Morgan buried her face in the older woman’s delectable melons. The cool, soft surface and hard nipples felt good on her face. Morgan drew one of Mrs. Thomas’ nipples into her mouth and sucked hard on it.

“Have you ever done this before?” Mrs. Thomas asked her guest in a throaty voice. She rubbed her thighs together, feeling a familiar stickiness between her legs.

Mrs. Thomas’ nipple popped out of Morgan’s lips and the young t-girl answered, “No… never.”

Morgan felt Mrs. Thomas’ hand slip down her body. Mrs. Thomas’ hand wrapped around Morgan’s erection and started to stroke it. Kevin’s mom pressed the tip against the warmth of her feminine entrance as she squeezed her hand up and down its length. Their tongues met again, with Morgan’s hands groping Mrs. Thomas’ titties for all they were worth.

“We’d be wise to make it a memorable experience then. You’re bigger than I thought you’d be.” Mrs. Thomas gave Morgan’s erection another squeeze. “I’m in no way complaining,” The older woman grinned ear to ear.

Both women began losing the rest of the clothes. Kevin’s mom slipped the last piece of clothing, a tiny pair of panties down Morgan’s legs. Morgan’s cock slid down and pressed against the opening to Mrs. Thomas’ cunt; it was shaven and slippery with her fluids.

Mrs. Thomas told her, “Stick it in, sweetheart. Fuck me, damn it,” she moaned.

Morgan pressed her hips forward and the head of her cock slowly entered her tormentor’s mom. The inches of her shaft began to deposit inside Mrs. Thomas’ cunt. Morgan gritted her teeth through the pleasurable, overwhelming feeling of her cock being swallowed by the pussy of this older woman.

“Big. That’s a big cock! Now fuck me, honey!” Mrs. Thomas cried out to Morgan. The immense pleasure of Morgan’s sizable cock was written all over her face. Mrs. Thomas groped Morgan’s breasts, giving the magnificent mounds of girlish flesh rough squeezes.

Morgan amazingly knew exactly what to do. She started to saw her dick in and out of Mrs. Thomas’ pussy like she’d done this before. The two women were completely lost in lust, continuing to maul and love on the other’s body. They almost instantaneously found a comfortable fucking rhythm which consisted of Kevin’s mom clenching the muscles of her pussy just as Morgan bottomed out and then releasing her cock once again for another forceful lust-driven plunge.

“Fucking take my cock,” Morgan muttered to the beautiful older woman who’d always been so nice to her. They kissed savagely; their tongues wrestled together as their lips struggled to stay connected. The creak of Kevin’s bed was music to Morgan’s ears. For a moment she imagined all the mean things he’d done to her and then superimposed them with the image of his mom splayed out on his bed taking her cock.

“Mmm… that’s it sweetheart. Do me! Do me real good.” Mrs. Thomas’ breathing came out more ragged. With each thrust, Morgan felt the older milf’s legs shake. Morgan realized Mrs. Thomas was cumming when her eyes shut and her cunt clenched down on Morgan’s cock like a vice. Morgan buried her face in Mrs. Thomas’ big tits; she kissed and licked every inch of the soft flesh before applying suction to one nipple, then the other. Morgan’s cock was throbbing. She was harder than she’d ever been. It was her first fuck!

I’m not a virgin anymore! Morgan told herself as she buried every inch of herself inside Mrs. Thomas and let the juices of her tormentor’s mother wash over her cock.

Kevin’s mom came so hard. It was unbelievable and unlike anything Morgan had ever experienced. Morgan’s thrusts became more desperate as it dawned on her that she could bring someone this much pleasure. Mrs. Thomas whimpered beneath the young t-girl, taking every inch of the girl’s dick. Mrs. Thomas’ sharp nails dug into Morgan’s butt cheeks as she pulled the girl deeper into her.

Morgan’s cock had never felt so hard; her balls so full. She was going to blow one hell of a load inside Kevin’s mom. Morgan held Mrs. Thomas by her breasts and absolutely abused her sensitive pussy with thrust after thrust. She could feel Kevin’s mom’s cunt grip her cock tight like it would never let it go.

“Fuck me with that big dick. Fuck me good and fill me with that fucking cum! I want it!” Mrs. Thomas clutched Morgan’s dick even tighter with her cunt.

“You asked for it, you sexy bitch! Jeez… fuck… I’m gonna CUM!” Morgan drove her cock as deeply inside Kevin’s mom as she could as the pleasure rippled throughout her body.

Morgan’s knees went weak. She started spurting what felt like gallons inside Mrs. Thomas. Morgan gave a low, sexy moan and unloaded everything she had into her bully’s mother. The excess dripped down Mrs. Thomas’ pussy and puddled on Kevin’s bed. They were sweating now. Morgan couldn’t stop panting. She dropped her head into the valley of Mrs. Thomas’ titty flesh, rolling her face around the over-sized mounds of Kevin’s mom.

“You’re sure you’ve never done that before, sweetheart?” Mrs. Thomas playfully lifted an eyebrow and scoped out the sweaty teen.

“That was my first time,” Morgan said, running her tongue along the sensitive skin of Mrs’ Thomas neck. She long-licked all the way up to Mrs. Thomas’ lips and kissed them. “I’d like to try it again sometime,” she giggled.

“Now’s good for me.” Kevin’s mom gave Morgan’s cock a squeeze with her cunt muscles. “Mr. Thomas won’t be home for a while and Kevin makes his own hours; if he does come home, we can just make him wait until we’re done occupying the room anyway.” Mrs. Thomas looked down at the young t-girl with a big smile on her face.

Morgan met her eyes and said, “I’m ready. And we could always give Kevin some pointers using his naughty mommy as a visual aid. I could teach him how to fuck a woman.” Morgan thrust into Mrs. Thomas and her softening cock started to harden.


Morgan headed to school the next day with a spring in her step. It didn’t matter what kind of crap Kevin might pull. She fucked his mom. Take it from Morgan, getting even never felt so good. She thought back to yesterday afternoon and felt a stir below the belt.

“Morgan! Where were you yesterday?” a voice called out to her.

The young t-girl turned around and saw her best friend rushing over. Valerie was quite a character. Bubbly and girlish, and completely obsessed with all things cock-related. Morgan recalled when Valerie first moved here. They were fast friends, but Morgan kept putting off telling her that she was a t-girl. Morgan didn’t want to scare her away. When she finally let Valerie in on her not-so-secret secret, the first thing Valerie said was, “Can I see it?”

It came back to Morgan that she was supposed to meet Valerie yesterday. In all the excitement, she forgot about it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to not show.” Valerie slid up next to her and the girls locked arms together.

“Want me to escort you to your locker? Kevin usually doesn’t mess with you when we do that,” she asked.

Morgan thought about it for a moment, conjuring up images of her afternoon romp with Mrs. Thomas. The two were linked now. “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, though. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Valerie nodded. Morgan watched her friend walk away. Valerie ran into a boy she knew, which caused the bubbly young girl to walk with a noticeable sway to her hips. The nice term for Valerie is boy crazy.


Morgan and Mrs. Thomas continued to find time for their fuck sessions over the next week. They went at it whenever they could. Kevin’s mom taught Morgan all about fucking. She was one dirty milf and neither of them could get enough. Mr. Thomas wasn’t interested in Kevin’s mom anymore, but Morgan sure was.

Kevin still treated Morgan like crap, though. Mrs. Thomas had managed to intervene and get her locket back. Morgan had to fuck for it back actually. She pounded Kevin’s mom so hard that they were surprised nobody called the cops. Morgan didn’t mind Kevin’s taunting all that much, she had something over him and he didn’t even know it.

One day she was at her locker in the girls’ locker room when he wouldn’t leave her alone. He found his way into the girls’ locker room with the express purpose of annoying her. “Were you looking for this?” he asked with a book in his hand he’d taken from her backpack.

“Give it back, Kevin,” she held out her hand for it, but he dropped it on the ground instead and stepped on it. It was a library book and the dumbass left a shoeprint on the cover. Morgan just shook her head and reached for it; that gave Kevin a view of her locker.

He asked, “Hey what are those?”

Morgan felt a nervous flush come over her as she recognized the sexy pair of panties she’d taken as a memento from Kevin’s mom. Morgan thought about it, a clever grin eventually spread over her full lips.

She pulled the silky, pink thong out and threw it at Kevin. “Think fast!”

He caught them, gave them one look and said, “Gah! Get your panties away from me. I don’t want them!”

“They’re not mine,” Morgan said with a smug smile.

“Then whose are they?” Kevin asked curiously.

“Ask your mom,” Morgan told him with a grin that was getting bigger by the minute. She picked them up and took a long sniff, then placed them in her pants and started to walk away.

Kevin grabbed her by the shoulders. “That isn’t funny. Those aren’t my mom’s! I should kick your ass.”

“I left some K-Y jelly under your bed for the next time we fuck. Makes it easier to slide my big dick in her. Take a look if you don’t believe me.”

“You’re lying. You’re really crazy,” he told her and stormed out of the locker room. Morgan stayed behind, unable to stop her fits of laughter.


Kevin hurried home. The things Morgan said couldn’t be true. He’d kill her once he proved she was lying. And if she wasn’t… well, she had to be lying! His mom had been acting a little strange lately, but it couldn’t be. There was just no way. He’d never live this down. Why should Morgan make up a lie like this? She’d always been nice, yes nice, up until now. He only picked on her because, well, the answer didn’t instantly come to mind.

To his horror, he found the bottle of lube Morgan was talking about. The pit in his stomach grew to astronomical size. The boy didn’t know what to do. That bitch had fucked his mother! Confronting his mom about it was the furthest thing from his mind, so he spent the night stewing on it.

Kevin spent the entire day at school waiting for his opportunity to corner Morgan alone. She looked happier, and to his utter disgust, she’d wink at him or even blow him a kiss when she saw him looking. Kevin finally got his opportunity after school. Morgan was changing after gym class at the end of day; she seemed to wait there specifically until all the other girls had left.

Kevin slipped in without anyone seeing him as usual and found Morgan loading her backpack with her back to him. “What did you do with her?” he asked angrily.

Morgan knew he’d be there. With a confidence she’d never had before, Morgan spun around and met him with a big I fucked your mom smile. “Well, have you noticed your bed’s been creaking a lot more lately? We were talking about getting a new frame for it,” she stuck her tongue out at him and then turned back around dismissively.

Kevin grabbed her in a fit of rage. “I’m gonna kick your ass so bad!”

“Oooh, go ahead. Here I’ll make it easy for you. Give me a nice big black eye,” Morgan said with a gratified smile. “I bet your mom will feel so bad for me she’ll let me do her butt. I’ve been wanting to try that.”

“You bitch!” Kevin finally let go of her and thought for a moment, “Fine! Stay away from her from this moment forward and I promise not to kick your fucking ass for what you did.”

“Not good enough,” Morgan told him, returning to loading her backpack.

He grabbed her arm and said, “What do you want then!”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Morgan really didn’t know. She considered it briefly and decided that why should she stop? She loved to fuck. She’d done it with a woman now, she still thought of herself as straight–or perhaps bisexual. Finding a man isn’t out of the question, but why should I stop fucking his mom unless Kevin comes up with a replacement just as good? Morgan asked herself. She was getting laid and not willing to give it up for nothing; just because some dude who’s always been an ass to her asks her to.

The devilish idea crept into her mind all at once as she looked at him. Kevin was an asshole, maybe she could get some use out of that finally by using his asshole. The pieces came together without her realizing it at first. Morgan was going to trade Kevin’s mom for Kevin.

“Turn around,” she told him.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked. “Are you going to leave my mom alone or not?”

“Not–if you don’t turn around like I told you,” she said with a new authority in her voice. Kevin grumbled something, but he did a little uninspired turn. Morgan was happy she could control him, but she wanted to speed up the process. “You’ll do.”

“I’ll do what?” he furrowed his brow and gave her a disgruntled look.

Whatever I tell you. Got it?”

“Just leave my mom alone. I’m not your slave!” he shouted incredulously.

“I prefer the word ‘bitch’ actually. But slave is fine if you like that better,” she laughed.

June 2018
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