tagBDSMBad Cumslut

Bad Cumslut

byThegirl84©

Friday night- I've been naughty all week. It usually happens when I feel like Sir isn't paying enough attention to me. What can I say? I'm a brat and an attention whore!

I didn't ask to cum, I didn't thank him for his hot load, and I didn't greet him with, "Good morning Sir" while rubbing his cock. I knew what I was doing, I didn't think that Sir did though.

What sent Sir over the top? Oh simple, I had been reading Literotica smut. Ohhhh how I love to read my porn, it leaves so much to the imagination, and mine works well. Unfortunately Sir didn't think that the piece I had been reading was good enough. It was really too bad too, it was by one of my very favorite authors.

Between all the broken rules and the obvious play time going on at home when Sir wasn't, I was in deep shit. He had warned me that he was tired of my bratty attitude. I knew I was on thin ice, but I wasn't expecting to fall through so quickly.

"When will you be home" he questioned over the phone.

"I need 20 minutes." I replied.

"You have 15." Click.

Sir hung up on me. Oh fuck, my heart started racing. I'd never heard him so pissed, so unwilling to listen....so determined to break me.

I arrived home, put on my best cheery voice, and walked through the door.

"Hi Sir, how are you?" I'd barely sat my things down when my head was snapped back and my clothes were being torn off.

It was then that I noticed the planning Sir had put in. The couch had a rope strung from armrest to armrest with carabiners hanging in the middle. There were belts tied to each of the arm rests and a metal bar laying on the cushion.

Sir snapped the collar around my neck and the cuffs around my wrists. I knew better than to move, than to whimper, I stood just the way Sir likes. Ass out, back bent, and breasts out.

The threw me onto the couch face down and clipped my collar onto the carabiners. Next my hands were tied to the belts and pulled tight. I instantly felt the tension between my shoulders. Sir began working on the spreader bar I between my legs. He wound it tight to my knees with rope. Tight....too tight.

"Do you remember the safe word?" he asked.

Then I heard the woosh, and felt the harsh sting of the cane on my ass cheek.

"Ummmm...." My mind went foggy.

Whap!

"Pumpkin? Ummmm....."

Whack!!

"It's pumpernickel, PUMPERNICKEL!" I scream.

Smack!

"Good, you know it."

Smack...Whap... blow after blow. Time after time. All on the right ass cheek.

I have never used my safe word. My pride won't let me. But I couldn't take anymore. I thought I was going to break! Bleed....scream....

"Pumpernickel" I cried!

Sir mercifully stopped, then began on my left ass cheek.

"You didn't safe word this side," he replied to a look I gave the seat cushion.

It didn't take as long, I couldn't help it.

"Pumpernickel," I said with defeat.

"You've been horrible this week. Testing me, someone who works day and night, who was too tired to deal with you bratty ass."

Whap!

"You deliberately disobey me at every turn."

Smack!

"I began pleading, "Sorry Sir, I will do better Sir, I want to please you Sir."

"Shut your fucking mouth. You will do as I say. I own you, you are my cumslut, my puppet, and you will listen or you will be beaten." While smacking me left and right, left and right.....

Slammmmm!!

"Y-y-yes-s-s Sir," I finally stammer.

"Now, as continuation of your punishment, to drive it home that I will not contend with your bratty attitude anymore, you will suck my dirty cock and balls. I didn't shower today, just for you." He said with a sneer.

"Yes Sir."

Sir pulled my head back from the bed by my hair and slammed it down on his rock hard cock. He fucked my face by slamming my face down on him, so rough, so damn hard. My brain, my tongue, my whole self couldn't keep up with the face fucking I was getting.

Spit and slobber flying. Choking, gagging. Sir forced my face down on his cock and then held my head there between his thighs. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I was at his mercy. Just when I thought I would pass out he released me from his strong hold.

Sir rubbed his dirty balls all over my face, my nose, my cheeks, my lips, tongue, and chin.

"You could have this cock filling your pussy, instead you break rules and think I won't notice, and you get stank cock rubbed all over you... Do you understand your wrong doings?"

"Yes Sir," the only words I dare mutter.

"I don't think you do," Sir says as he begins caning my ass and resumes fucking my face. Between the pain and the face raping I can't get ahold of myself. I don't know what hurts, I don't know what is pleasure. I am only my Masters cum slut, his play thing, his marionette.

When Sir finished fucking my face he moved to my pussy.

Sir moved my body into a position I hoped was pleasurable for him.... It wasn't...

SMACK!

He moved me again. This time my head was resting on the ground underneath the couch, arms still tied to the armrests, nipples dragging on the coarse carpet with every thrust Sir gave. My ass high in the air just the way Sir likes.

He beat my already sore ass as he fucked me... He slammed into me making my nipples rub raw on the carpet, I asked permission to cum which Sir graciously allowed. Over and over I orgasmed as he fucked himself to completion.

Sir left me bound, cum dripping out of my pussy, gasping for breath as my face was slammed into the ground for what felt like an eternity.

"Before I let you up, tell me what you learned."

"Yes Sir, you always pay attention Sir, you are tired of my bratty personality, and you wish I would read better smut." My reply came muffled.

"Smut what?"

Smack!!

"Smut, Sir....sorry Sir." I practically screamed!

"That's right, and who controls you?"

"You do Sir, you own me."

"Good, now you will do well to remember that. Should you forget I will gladly remind you by beating on this dark bruise that has formed on your ass cheek. Is that clear."

"Yes Sir."

And he wasn't lying... My ass will be black, blue, and purple for weeks to come.

It doesn't help any that I'm a brat and still can't remember all my rules, or the fact that when I drink a couple of beers I can't feel the bruise anymore.

At the rate Im going I'll be bruised for two months straight.

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