Caught on Filmbyarjuna101©
What is punishment? That's a good question. She found out the meaning of punishment when she got back from her trip. Her man felt denied, and action was taken. Something like this.
She had gotten dressed as she normally does: the colorful lace, the sheer nylon, the slutty whore make-up. A rich slathering of lubricant was rubbed over her parts; the enthusiasm of the application - fingers in twat and ass - let her know that holes would soon be plugged. She wore a school girl's uniform skirt over the inviting crotchless panties. She was wearing her new eight inch heels, thus towering over her man. But would she stay so tall?
She was led into an air-conditioned room. She began standing, as she was made to faced a bookshelf, then handcuffed to that shelf. Her man then lifted her skirt and playfully whipped her stunning ass with a light cat-o-nine. The pain/pleasure smacks of the whip sent pleasure through her groin and caused blood to rush to her buttocks and her clit. She was smoking hot.
She was then turned around made to sit on a short stool. She could see a camera filming the scene. Handcuffs then locked her hands to a bookshelf: her arms were held out wide above her head. He sat her carefully on the stool; her legs were spread; her tight cunt starting to juice from anticipation. A mask was put over her head, covering her eyes, A belt was slipped around her neck, preventing her head from moving forward. She was blind to sight, yet her body was heightened to touch. She sat, waiting in anticipation, for what would occur next.
It began with the nipples. He breasts were pinched, squeezed, and prodded. Slight whippings made her nipples taut. She then heard a buzzing, and a series of devices began playing with her love holes: the quick stroking of a electric brush and the hard, solid vibrations of a plastic dildo. As these toys began probing her flesh, she began to come, once, twice, and a third time. She sat on the stool spent, wondering when the ordeal would be done.
She knew it was a dick when it slapped her cheek. Her mouth opened and waited, welcoming. The dick snuck in quickly, but as she tried to close her lips around it, it withdrew as quickly again. She sat panting, hoping to soon get another taste. Her wait wasn't long. The dick came back, and played at her mouth. It would barge in hard, jam tight, pump her throat till she gagged, then exit. She could feel precum dampen her lips, her cheeks, her chin. Occasionally he would go away, maybe prod another body part, and then come back. She was eager and willing for anything to happen.
And then it did. She felt the warm viscous fluid her her face. Her man was finishing on her now, his cum jacking all over her well made face. She couldn't grab the spitting dick with her hands or her mouth; she was merely the target, the receptacle, for the coming. So she did what all good whores and slaves do: she opened her mouth and took what she could get, never swallowing, but always just pushing the spooge out of her lips and down onto her chin and body. When he was spent, she waited for what would come next. Then she heard the door close. He had stepped from the room. She was still chained, waiting, submissive.
To Be Continued...