So, as expected, Master C punished me thoroughly for my escapades last night. I won’t bore you with the details of how the appropriate level of discipline was negotiated, but the result ended up being as follows:
I am bent over the table, Master C ties me firmly, securely in place. The ropes cut tightly into my wrists, my ankles and across my back.
My boobs are pressed against the cold, hard, unyielding wooden surface, forcing the clamps around my nipples into their skin. It hurts with a delicious intensity.
Cold lube is dribbled over my arsehole. With one, then two fingers, Master C roughly opens me up, stretching my tight, tender rear entrance. Fingers withdrawn, I feel the cold plastic of a dildo being pushed firmly into place; holding me open for what will come later.
“Are you ready?” Master C asks, his voice oddly tender and concerned.
“Yes Master,” I reply, “I am ready.”
I wait. Seconds pass. Anticipation grows inside me. My cunt grows wet as I await the first kiss of His belt.
A finger runs between my lower lips. I feel my juices flow.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Master,” I admit.
“You’re a nasty little slut, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Master.” Again I can’t deny the accusation.
“What are you?”
“In a nasty little slut, Master.”
“And what happens to nasty little sluts?”
“They get thrashed, Master.”
“Yes they do. Yes they do.”
More time passes. The anticipation continues to build. Master C forces his finger into my warm, wet cunt.
“Are you going to thrash me, Master?”
“Yes I am, my little slut.”
“Will you thrash me hard, Master?”
“Yes I will, my little slut.”
“I deserve to be thrashed hard, Master.”
“Yes you do, my lovely, filthy little slut.”
His finger slides from my cunt and is forced into my mouth. I love the way I taste on His finger.
I hear the crack as Master C flexes His belt. I close my eyes, waiting to feel its first biting kiss.
Swoosh, SLAP! It cuts into my skin. I hold back a cry, pretending to be brave.
Swoosh, SLAP! Again it bites. Tears begin to well in my eyes. My face begins to redden, to match the hot, stinging glow that my arse is beginning to display.
Swoosh, SLAP! Another caress of leather. A small sob escapes from between my lips. My tears begin to flow.
Swoosh, SLAP! I want to cry, but I need to be brave for my Master. I need to show Him I can take my punishment.
Swoosh, SLAP! I can’t hold back. I cry out as the pain intensifies. My tears feel like burning rain against my cheeks.
Swoosh, SLAP! “Oh Master!” I cry, “P… Punish me, M… Master! Punish your little s… slut!”
Master C shows no mercy. His belt rains down on me again and again. The pain is so strong I can no longer feel the clamps around my nipples, digging into my boobs.
And then it stops.
The dildo is pulled from my arse, only to be replace by Master C‘s lovely thick cock.
His hand grabs my hair. He pulls my head sharply back as He fucks my arse.
As his cock pounds me, Master C slaps my arse cheeks with his free hand, never letting the pain subside. He tightens His grip on my hair, pulling it harder.
“Filthy slut!” He moans; His words punctuating the long, hard, punishing thrusts of His beautiful cock, “Filthy, little, dirty slut!”
His free hand moves around me to tease my clit as Master C pummels my arse relentlessly with His cock. Despite the pain, despite the agonising intensity of this treatment, I cum almost immediately.
“Oh… Oh M.. Master! Oh thank you, Master!” I sob as my orgasm rips through me.
Master C releases my hair. His cock slips from my arsehole. Seconds pass until I feel the warm wetness of His cum splash over the burning cheeks of my bum.
It feels so good. It feels so dirty. It reignites my climax, pushing me beyond the brink of my endurance.
Master C unties me, picks me up and carries me over to the bed. I hear the crack of a bottle lid. The familiar scent of aloe, and the coolness of gel as He begins to spread it into my burning skin.
Suffice to say, I was squirming in my seat as I wrote the above; partially because my arse still hurts, but mostly because writing that has made me hot in places well under the collar.
If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to go and do something about my current worked up state…