Mr. Bear Ch. 2

Pulling the flogger back, I flicked him on the nipple, just hard enough to sting and stimulate..

"Mmm, thank you, Mistress, that's one," he murmured.

I shook my head. "Oh, no, I haven't even begun your punishment yet, my innocent little bear. First, you need to be properly warmed up. In fact, consider this warm-up a form of punishment for cumming in the middle of your previous punishment, before I finished disciplining you. Eventually, you will learn to cum only when I command, but for now, just try to take your punishment as best you can."

Standing up, I walked around him once, twice, then snapped at his chest again with the tips of the suede strands. Whipping the flogger around, I let the strands land good and firm on his back, then flicked it around to the front again, stinging at his nipples with the tips. Back and forth, solid and flick, solid and flick, I slowly walked around him, until the solid strokes were landing on his chest, the flicks on his back. That caused his lightly tanned flesh to pick up a soft, pink blush as the blood rose to the skin under attack. I continued circling him, until the little flicks were playing with his nipples again. A glance down past his arms showed his uncut erection full and proud, now, just the way I wanted it. Stopping after one particularly hard flick, I stepped back.

"Place your hands on the floor, and rise up onto your knees, Mr. Bear," I directed him politely but firmly. He complied, shifting his weight onto all fours. I immediately rewarded him by thwapping him right on the buttocks, making him gasp. The sting from all those straps were hardly to be compared to the welt-raising blows caused by my quirt three weeks ago, but I wasn't trying to raise welts just yet. Silently, I counted out twenty hard-slapping strokes, raising a good blush on his cheeks, then stopped, walked around to his front, and sat down on the chair again, leaving him still on his hands and his knees.

Since he was so tall, so long in the body, that meant I had to straddle my leg over his head just to be able to sit down. It meant my pussy, which had grown damp during my exertions in its crotchless frame of royal blue silk and white lace trimming,, was well within sniffing range. And since I did have to swing my leg over his head and neck to sit down, that caused the short skirt of my outfit to drape the front panel over the top of his blond head, giving him a good look at my crotchless panties, too.

I left him like that for several long moments, each of his panting breaths puffing warm air against my nethercurls. Finally, he groaned, "...Mistress?"

"Yes, Mr. Bear?"

"Can I lick your pussy, Mistress?"

"Do you wish to worship it?" I asked him lightly.

"Oh, yes, Mistress!" He started to shift forward, then halted himself, since I hadn't actually *said* he had permission to do so. "May I, Mistress, please? Pretty please?"

*Ohh, I do so like a man who can beg, and beg properly. I'm definitely keeping this one.* I didn't give him that choice, however. "No. Not until you have been properly punished. After your punishment, only then will I consider it—that's why it's called a punishment. Inhale deeply three times, so that you will long for that which you cannot have just yet, then resume the punishment position."

"...Yes, Mistress." Was that disappointment, or maybe even resignation in his voice? Because I was attracted to him, I'd given him a promise of sexual monogamy. I trusted myself to maintain control in our relationship, so the prospect of actually having sex with a sub was a little exciting. Not just oral sex, but actual copulation. Fucking. Thrusting and pounding, and impaling my wet pussy on that long, muscular shaft. But not yet. No, that was a privilege he'd have to earn, a process that would definitely take more than just one night.

As soon as he was in position, hands behind his head, his head tipped back for once, knees spread wide for balance and cock erect enough to be throbbing slightly, hot and hard at the thought of what would come next—or was that what would cum next?—I put the suede flogger away, and pulled out my rubber tricat. My own invention, it was made sort of like a black cat'o'nine flogger, save that it had only three thickish, somewhat stiff rubber strands, each one terminating in a little half-knot near the tip. The handle was nothing more than leather thong wrapped around one end of the rubber strands, and though thin, it fit comfortably in my grip. Sitting forward, I slid the length of the strands through my left hand, then flicked them out hard and sharp at his chest. The triple attack sounded something like SPLAT! It also made him yelp.

"—Oww! ...Uh, was that 'one', Mistress?"

"A test-shot. How did it make you feel?" I asked him.

"It hurt a lot more than the other one did," he answered me candidly. "Is my punishment about to begin, Mistress?"

"Are you trying to dictate the pace I will set?" I countered challengingly.

"No, Mistress, just wondering when I'm supposed to start counting the blows I, uh, deserve."

"You please me, Mr. Bear, by showing you are willing to learn. For that, I will end your torment of anticipation, and begin your punishment now." Standing, I moved to one side just a little, and started to deliver a real blow, then stopped, teasting him with anticipation as the trio of strands swung back and forth gently, never quite reaching his skin. "Are you ready to count, Mr. Bear?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. Don't forget how to properly count," I reminded him, and brought my arm down hard, splaying the three strands straight down the middle of his stomach, over the faint treasure-line of fine blond hairs leading to his groin. SLAP!

"Ow! ...Thank you, Mistress, that was one." THWAP! "—Urgh...thank you, Mistress, that was two," he recited dutifully through clenched teeth.

I kept warming that spot for two more strokes, then struck horizontally across his nipples, first one way, then the other, until he was wincing and gritting his teeth, and his pectoral muscles were puffy with welt-lines. Given I was using my tricat, that didn't take too long, just a count to twelve. Swirling my wrist, I brought the tricat down between his thighs, first on one side, then on the other, five times each. More than one drop of pearly pre-cum was dripping out of his red-hard mushroom head, now. A few more strokes, and he'd ejaculate—a masochistical sub born and bred. I liked that. I wanted him to last the full eight, first, so I took the time to think how I'd accomplish that.

It did remind me that the very nice, damask-covered, faux-antique styled chair was between him and release. I didn't want to give his housekeeping service a headache, trying to clean cumstains out of the furniture, or the carpet should he shoot that far, so I moved behind him and very lightly flicked his buttocks.

"On your hands and knees, you dirty little bear."

Once again, the position put his head within an inch or so of the seat cushion. I resumed my seat exactly as before, skirt draped over his head, the scent of my own arousal filling his each and every breath...and shifted forward and brought the tricat down hard on his back, making sure the knotted ends flicked him in the ass.

"Ahh! Thank you, Mistress, that was...that was twenty-three," he recalled on a gasp, his head almost trapped in my lap, given how far I had to stretch out my arm to reach those buttocks. I struck him hard a second time, not liking the way how I had to strain to reach that firm ass. "—Thank you, Mistress, that was twenty-four!"

Nope, the position wasn't a good one for me. Especially since his soft, stylish hair was tickling the bare skin of my thighs, up above the lace tops of my stockings. It wouldn't do to let him know that, though. A good Domina never shows a discomfort that could be construed as a weakness, such as my awareness of my much smaller size. So instead, I drawled,

"I think you like this position too much. Lie down on your back!" I commanded him sharply, and he scrambled to obey, stretching out on the towels I'd allowed him to lay down for his knees. Slipping off the chair, I knelt over his head, giving him another flash of my royal-blue framed pussy. "Now, double up your knees—keep them wide!—and bring them up as close to your chest as you can. Lift that ass in the air!"

He complied readily enough, proving musclebound, overgrown men could be fairly limber, much to my secret delight. I let him know it with some soft-voiced praise

"Good little bear. Hold yourself in this position, and do not slip from it," I ordered him gently. "Resume the count, now." And I smacked him hard, right between the buttocks, at the base of his balls and shaft.

"—OH!! Th-thank you, Mistress, that was tw...twenty-five," he moaned, clearly close to an orgasm of pain, now.

I counted slowly to thirty, then smacked him hard again, this time at an angle to take some of the intensity off his balls and cock. The humiliation of this angle would be perfect, for in the moment he orgasmed, he'd be cumming all over his own chest, and I plans for that cum, given what lay in my picnic basket.

"Oh, god, thank you, Mistress, that was twenty-six!" came the cry between my legs, all but vibrating my flesh. I flicked hard the other way, and he groaned out, "Thank you, Mistress, that was twenty-seven...oh, god, oh, god—I think I'm gonna cum...!"

So was I, and all I was doing was working up a sweat! "Are you ready for the last three blows, Mr. Cumslut Bear?"

"Yes, Mistress!—"

Even as he said that, the tricat whistled through the air. Once, twice thrice, barely giving him enough time to gasp out the ritual count. At the last lash, instead of lifting the tricat away, I dragged it deliberately over the base of his dangling balls and shaft, and had the pleasure of watching them spasm and jerk, spurting out his cum as the sudden, unexpected caress stimulated each and every welt I'd just made. I smacked him five more times, good and hard right on the perineum, between the base of his balls and his anus. That was with my right hand. With my left, I reached into the basket behind me and grabbed the slim anal probe by touch alone. Shoving it under his doubled-up legs, I rubbed it against his cum-streaked chest, twisting it to thoroughly coat the lumpy, twig-like black shaft, then brought it up and around again, all as I struck three more times...and finally shoved it up his ass. He gasped and spasmed again, cumming even harder than before, shocked by the sudden, anal attack.

His legs flopped down to the tiled, towel-draped floor, leaving him panting into my cunt. Finally, I obliged my own desires and sat my crotchless-pantied pussy on his face. Obedient without even being told what to do, he started licking and sucking and eating me for all he was worth, his hands coming up to hook around my thighs, holding me in place. With just a twist and a stretch, I exchanged the tricat for the suede flogger again, and lightly flogged the flesh to either side of his cum-seeping shaft with the soft strands, making him grunt as the broad leather straps occasionally met his sensitized, still turgid flesh.

His enthusiasm between my thighs picked up a notch at that, flicking his tongue rapidly over my clit, his nose half burying itself in my cunt. I squirmed against his hold, bit my lower lip, and as he fucked me with his very enthusiastic tongue, came with a little squeal of pleasure through my clenched teeth.

Damn, but he was good! As soon as I had the energy again, I'd have to write all of this down in my notebook. Nothing like keeping a log to know what I've already done, so I'd know what else was out there that I still had left to do.