You know, as you walk in the door, that he wants to play the game, your game. He doesn't tell you, not in words, that would spoil it completely. No. He has to let you catch him, find him out, punish him.
He is in the den, you can hear the TV, see the flicker of it around the door. That's the giveaway. He knows what time you were coming home, he would normally have had coffee brewing, but he is watching TV in the den, and you know.
Quietly you walk to the door, step inside. Flesh bobs and quivers on the screen. Bodies writhe. He hears you coming, turns quickly, his eyes wide. Quickly he flicks the remote, kills the picture, but not fast enough.
"So!" you hiss, "This is what you do when I'm out?"
He looks down "It was nothing. I was given it. I didn't know what it was."
"Didn't know? Of course you knew. Why did you watch such filth? Aren't I good enough for you?"
"Of course you are!"
"Oh, I think not! You want to watch those porn girls with their silicone tits, they hold more appeal on a screen than my body does in reality, do they?"
"No, please, of course they don't. I'm sorry, please don't get angry."
"Oh but I am angry." You reply, "Very angry. You need to be a taught a lesson. You need to be shown how to treat a lady. You know what I mean, don't you?"
"LOVE! Do not dare call me love. Until I decide that you are truly sorry, what do you call me?"
"Mistress. I call you mistress!"
You stare at him, until his eyes drop. "You know what to do next!"
"Very well. Five minutes, not a second more, then you come!"
You stride out of the room, across the hall to the bedroom, your shared room with it's king size bed, subtly placed mirrors, the delicately erotic paintings on the walls. Stripping quickly, you open the wardrobe and choose your outfit.
Quickly but smoothly, you dress. A sheer bra that shows your nipples through the fine mesh. A garter belt and lace topped stockings, a pair of lace panties over these. Over this you step into a short skirt, slit down the side, and a blouse so fine and transparent that neither it nor the bra leave anything to the imagination. You look in the mirror. Your nipples push through the thin fabric, pink and sensual. Your thigh flashes temptation through the split skirt. You will suffice.
Right on time, the door opens, sheepishly he enters. You stand, hands on hips. He waits, head down, playing his role well, as you play yours.
"What do you think I should do with you?" you begin.
"I don't know mistress."
"Oh yes you do. You know there's only one fitting punishment for what you've done, don't you?"
"Yes mistress indeed! So what are you waiting for? You know where it is, go and fetch me it!"
Slowly he crosses the room, opens the wardrobe, takes out the cane hanging there. Bringing it back, he hands it to you, his hand trembling slightly.
Ah, the cane. Three feet of whippy rattan, oiled to keep it supple, in the hands of an expert it can sting and tease, or burn like fire, and you know how to use it well. It is flexible enough to wrap around naked buttocks like a lash, leaving red tramlines on the quivering flesh.
"Undress!" you order sharply.
He strips in front of you, acting reluctant, taking his time. As he removes his clothes, you play with the cane, tapping it in your hand, flexing it, bending it almost double. He watches you, like a rabbit watching a snake. The cane is like a third person in the room, dominating both your thoughts.
Finally, he stands naked, the muscular body shivering slightly, the thick cock hanging loose but with the first signs of an erection. You look him up and down, feeling the heat rise in your face.
"Chair!" you snap.
He brings a hard backed chair from the wall and stands it in front of you.
"What are you waiting for? Over the back."
He bends over the chair back, his hands clasping the edge of the seat, his lower belly resting on the top. You run your gaze over the firm buttocks presented to you, the strong thighs and calves. You feel the first swelling of labia in your panties, the seeping of moisture. You know what is to come, before this is finished both of you will be satisfied, but it must be played out.
You stand to the side, measuring the distance. Gently, you rest the cane across the naked buttocks, and he feels the touch and trembles under it. There is a way to use a cane. Often on film you see someone swinging their whole arm up, as if the cane were a club. This is total nonsense. The elbow is kept down, near to the body, the whole action lies in the forearm and wrist. The secret is not in strength, but in technique. The wrist can whip round far faster than the whole arm, and deliver a more controlled strike.
Your wrist bends back, then with a soft swish you bring the cane down across the pale flesh, not too hard, just hard enough to sting and for him to anticipate what is to come.
Swish, and another pink line stripes the muscular buttocks. You can feel yourself getting really wet now, feel your nipples hardening in the taut bra, pushing the fabric out in little cones of sensation.
Swish, a third stroke. He has made no sound as yet, but so far you have been gentle. Now it is time to tease a little, before you deliver more pain.
Your left hand reaches under him, feels the thick dangling cock, strokes it gently from base to tip. He gasps, and it begins to swell and harden in your hand. Softly you caress it.
"Does that feel nice?"
"Oh, yes mistress!"
"Do you wish it was one of those porn sluts instead of me?"
"Oh no mistress, never."
"I think you're lying," you say silkily, "you are still fantasising about them. I think you need to be punished some more."
You withdraw the caressing fingers, take a step back and lay the cane across the bare buttocks again. This time the strokes are harder, the lines they leave angrier.
On the third stroke, he gives a little grunt of pain, his head jerking slightly. He is strong, this man of yours, but you always take him to his limits, he would have it no other way.
Again, you slide your hand under his belly and tantalise the dangling manhood. It has lost it's hardness with the pain, but a little stimulation soon brings that back, and you stroke it up and down with slow strokes. Precum leaks onto your finger tips, and this excites you even more. Your panties feel damp with your lust, your cunt lips swelling and oozing your juices. "Is this nice?" you say "Isn't it better than watching some slut on a screen? Do I not treat you well?"
"Oh yes, yes mistress!" he moans as your fingers tease the swollen end of his throbbing cock.
"And wouldn't you rather be good, so that I could reward you? Would you like me to reward you?" as you speak you run a fingernail gently along the underside of his cock and hear him gasp.
"Oh please mistress, yes."
"Well," you say "soon you may show me how you earn your reward. But first we have to finish your punishment."
You step back and lay the cane across the firm globes yet again. You see him tense, he knows that this time the strokes will be harder, taking him to his limit to bear pain.
SWISSSHHHHHHH...the cane cuts another line of fire across the tight flesh.
SWISSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH...he jerks as it lands, grunting with the stroke.
SWISSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH...he can't help but give a soft cry of anguish as the rattan sears across his bare ass, marking him as yours.
Stroke after stroke follows, each bringing its own cry, until nineteen lines of pain streak his buttocks like brand marks.
This is the last stroke, you will stop at twenty, but this will be the hardest. You draw back, wait, let him anticipate, then...
SWISSSSSSSSHHH...the cane curls round his bare ass, and he cries aloud with the intensity of it. His head jerks up, then drops and he breathes heavily.
You step back and look at him, at his sleek body, the stripes of the cane fresh on his backside, the tight thighs and strong arms. He is a naked animal and you his mistress, controlling, dominating. You know that your panties are soaking, your juices running freely now as you feast your gaze on him. His pain is spice for you both, but the feast is not yet over.
"Stand up." You tell him, and he rises, his hands going to his buttocks and rubbing the soreness.
"Now, you must show me that you really do love me more than those sluts." You tell him, "And if I believe you, maybe I will reward you. Lie on the bed!"
He lies down, on his back, his raw stripes pressing onto the mattress. You stand beside the bed, watching him for a moment, then slowly you hike up the skirt, up to your waist, and slowly you slide the damp panties down your legs, stepping out of them. His cock twitches and rises as he looks.
As your sweet wet pussy comes into view, his hand strays to his cock, stroking it harder.
"Stop that!" you order him "You do not touch yourself without my permission."
"Yes, mistress." His hand drops away reluctantly.
You climb onto the bed, straddle him, your knees either side of his head, your cunt poised above his face. You know that he can smell you.
Slowly, you lower yourself onto his mouth, wriggling your hips to get the position just right, your cunt lips meeting his lips, feeling his tongue as it begins to probe between the fleshy flaps, questing until it finds the swollen clitty, then he begins to lick, his tongue circling and teasing on the dripping love bud. You grasp the headboard, feeling the ecstasy of this sweetest of all kisses, his mouth spreading the slit wide, sucking at the clit, his hands coming up to grasp the plump woman ass and press his face deeper into her womanhood, sucking and licking as you writhe on his face until the sweet ache of climax builds and soars and explodes in your belly and hips in waves and your juices flow from the pulsing cunt over his chin and into his mouth as he drinks your pleasure and you moan and throw your head back and cry your passion loud as your hips jerk and shudder at his touch.
Slowly, you come back to yourself, and carefully, you climb off him. Sweat runs down your body, soaking your flimsy clothes. You stand and strip them off as he watches, his cock hard and straight, the taste of you still in his mouth. The blouse, bra and skirt fall to the floor, and wearing only the garter belt and stockings, you climb back on the bed. He has done well. Time to reward him.
Again you straddle him, this time across his lower belly, facing his feet. You stroke the thick fleshy cock with one hand, the other cupping his balls. Behind you, he moans softly.
You raise your hips and slide forward. Gently you guide the tip of his eager cock to the entrance of your still wet pussy, and exquisitely slowly you lower yourself, feeling the cock slide in deep and hard, the cunt lips parting to it's passage, and a low groan of passion forced from his lips.
Slowly you raise yourself, the warm wet cunt sliding up the veined shaft. Immediately he grasps your hips and begins to buck his own up into you, fucking you furiously. With your fingertips you give him a sharp slap across the balls, and he gasps and stiffens with the pain.
"You don't move or touch me unless I give you permission!" you tell him.
Obediently, his hands fall away, and you massage the aching balls, stroking the pain away, then you begin the so slow rise and fall again, up and down the iron hard shaft, seeing it grow slick with your cunt juices, hearing his moans of longing as you promise yet deny the longed for release.
"Who is the most beautiful woman in the world?" you ask him. "You are mistress...oh please mistress!"
"More beautiful than those painted porno sluts?"
"Oh yes mistress, much much more...oh please, mistress please!"
Perhaps it is time, he has waited so long. A few more long slow strokes, hearing him groan with his unsated desire, and you say "Now, you may hold me and move."
Straight away, his hands are on your hips and his body bucks and writhes under you. You lean forward, your hands on his legs, and rise and fall faster, hearing him pant with lust, feeling your slick tight cunt suck at his cock, knowing his eyes are on it, that he is watching your broad woman ass rise and fall and your pussy lips around his shaft.
His thrusts grow frantic, you have made him wait so long, then his body jerks and he lets out a wail of pleasure, his cock pumping it's hot spunk into you in thick gouts, you feel his release and know that you have both found something that you need tonight. Cum trickles out of your cunt as his cock grows limp and slack, glistening on his pubic hair. You slide off him. He has been yours completely, now he is his own person again.
Until the next time!