Submissive Beth Ch. 1

Beth was an avid student, not afraid to try new ways of getting off, always willing to take the sting of the lash without protesting about the intensity of her punishments. I built a trust in her. It went unspoken that I would never mark her, though I do not for one moment doubt that she would have permitted that if I so desired. I loved her lithe little body way too much to harm it to the point of leaving any permanent physical damage.

As we both grew in our relationship, and as Beth's trust of me increased commensurately, I began collecting "toys" to enhance our sessions. My collection consisted of whips, straps, dildos of various shapes and sizes, and, when things really began to get hot and heavy, restraining devices, to include an old-fashioned stock that I made myself, a whipping post, a leather ottoman which presented her ass and pussy perfectly when she straddled it, and wrist and ankle cuffs to aid in her restraint. Please don't misunderstand me. There were many times when the sex was about as straight as it gets. In fact, more often than not, a few light spanks on her ass when we were making love was the extent of our "kinkiness" for the evening. The rest of the time, just the fact that she was required (albeit willingly) to follow the rules I had made was enough of a reminder of her submission to keep things interesting. Perhaps once a week, sometimes more often, I would lead her to the basement, which I had sound-proofed, and we would engage in our little "games" that provided us with some of our greatest moments of pleasure.

More often than not, Friday nights seemed to be the one specific time that Beth would find some reason to be brought to my little Punish Room in the basement, where she would allow me to subject her to whatever tickled my fancy. Friday nights presented an opportunity for the both of us to unwind from the workweek. With the approach of the weekend, the Pavlovian response seemed to click inside Beth's horny mind. By Thursday she had that sexy little I-can't-wait-until-tomorrow look in her eyes. I didn't need a lot of reason to escort her to the Punish Room. It was sort of fun to watch her make excuses as to why she should be brought there. By 10:00 p.m., if she wasn't trussed up with me flailing away at her naked body, she pouted. One night, shortly before 10:00, she became downright indignant, and I decided to make her pay dearly for it.

I was in the living room, watching television, pretending to be oblivious to the day or time. For some reason, Beth hadn't changed from her work dress, not even to make dinner, and the outfit she had worn to work (she's a secretary at a large corporation) was particularly appealing. She always looked sexy in red, and the skirt she was wearing was redder than red, tight without being offensively so, hemmed a few inches above the knee. The long-sleeved, white cotton blouse, with a frilly ruffle near the neck line, was a perfect match for the skirt. She alternated between wearing pantyhose or a garter belt and stockings beneath her dresses, depending on her mood I guess. Because of the tightness of the skirt, she was wearing pantyhose this particular evening.

Several times she walked between me and the television, on purpose, trying to goad me into a punishment session I'm sure, but I didn't take the bait. I almost laughed at her efforts to get brought to the Punish Room. Finally, she came into the living room and sat down, across from me, in the easy chair. At first I didn't pay much attention to her, but I glanced over and noticed that her legs were crossed instead of being opened. She was purposely violating one of the rules, and she had never done that before.

I flicked the remote control button and turned the television off. I looked at her and she stared back at me, almost defiantly. I gestured at her, palms up, as if to ask her why she was being disobedient. She turned her head away for a brief second, then looked back at me and said, "David, it's a little embarrassing to sit across from somebody with my legs open so you can see all the way up my skirt."

"It hasn't seemed to bother you before. What's the beef now? Are you asking for trouble?"

The side of her lip broke into the slightest of smiles, which she tried to stop, but couldn't. "What if you had to show off your private area every time you sat down?" she asked.

"I'm not the one who is learning about being submissive. You are. And you've been trying to make me take you to the basement all evening. It happens on my terms, Beth, not yours."

She looked a little hurt. "You enjoy what happens down there as much as I do. There's nothing wrong with going there and doing whatever we want to do. We're mature, clear-thinking, consenting adults. It's Friday night, we always...."

"Look, dear Beth, you've already won yourself an invitation there, but when I want to go, not you."

The twinkle in her eye gave away her joy at hearing she was about to get what she wanted, but her actions were going to get her more than she had bargained for. She became serious all of a sudden. "I'm sorry, David. I really am."

"It's too late for 'sorry.' Uncross your legs."

She placed the palm of her hand gently on her leg and did as she was told, leaving her hand resting just above her right knee. Her legs were only slightly parted, however, and my view from straight across was not what I expected, and certainly not within the confines of our established rules.

"Open them," I said sharply, and she complied, her face blushing as if she had never done this before. I could see all the up her pantyhose-covered legs to the 'V' of her crotch. The semi-transparent, light-brown mesh of the pantyhose did not hide the fact that the panties she was wearing were a pale pastel-pink.

I was miffed that I had to tell her to part her legs for me, and decided to let her pay for her indiscretion. "Even further than that," I ordered as I stared straight up her dress.

Her face reddened even more, but she knew how serious I had become. She opened her legs as far the tightness of her skirt allowed, which was enough to expose the entire length of her crotch, rich in the pinkness of her panties. My eyes were glued there, in an effort to embarrass her, and my plan seemed to be working, as she nervously fidgeted in the chair.

"That won't do; your legs aren't opened nearly enough."

"David, my skirt is too tight," she meekly protested.

"Then raise it up. I want your legs wide open!"

She gave me one of those "You're really serious" looks, then raised her hips off of the cushion and moved her hands to the sides of her thighs. I watched the skirt move well past mid-thigh before she plopped back down and opened herself up for me. The view was a voyeur's delight--her sleek, light-brown meshed legs were spread before me, totally exposed. She was hunched forward slightly on the chair. My first inclination was to kneel in front of her and get a real eye-full, but decided instead to opt for an approach that would make her even madder--I turned away, grabbed the remote control, and flicked the TV back on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that a beautiful woman was only a few feet away from me with her legs spread invitingly wide.

I let her stay like that for the better part of 15 or 20 minutes, knowing that all the while she was stewing inside, while I stared at the television. Finally, I looked over at her. Her eyes and face actually looked mad, the first time I had ever seen her with such an expression. "Take off your pantyhose," I ordered.

Without a word, Beth stood up and eased her hands beneath her skirt, found the elastic top of the hose, and whisked it down her now pale legs. She sat back down and then leaned forward, lifting her feet up, and pulled the garment off of each foot before tossing it to the side. I sat forward on the sofa, looking right at her smooth, bare-skinned legs and said, firmly enough for her to understand that I expected no disobedience, "Now you can open them up again."

She gulped, then leaned back in the chair, her arms resting on top of the cushions, her skirt pulled well up, and spread her pretty gams apart once more. Their pale whiteness contrasted sharply with the well-tanned look the light-brown mesh had provided her earlier, but the effect of their paleness in contrast with the tightly-drawn, light-pink panty crotch, stirred my libido greatly. The reinforced rayon crotch stretched wide across her pussy, hiding the treasures beneath it well, except for a few light-brown curls which peeked shyly from either side. The material was stretched so tight, and her legs were splayed so wide, that the outline of her cuntal crack was plainly visible in a thin line at the center of the panty crotch.

The lacy front of the undies made the scene all the more alluring, the pretty pink, semi-transparent, fine-meshed lace which seemed to run outward in a wide 'V' from the top of the crotch, embroidered with a flowery design, yielded a thinly-veiled view of the bushy triangle beneath. Her wide-open position was highly erotic, to say the least, perhaps all the more so because of the humiliation I am sure she was feeling from being ordered to assume it.

For the first time I also noticed that she was wearing a matching slip. It, too, was pulled up along with the skirt, a delicate band of lace, perhaps two inches wide, gracing the hem line. It was the first time I could ever recall Beth wearing a slip, and I had seen her dress and undress any number of times during the course of our relationship.

"Very pretty. I like," I husked, staring at the sexy scene before my lust-filled eyes.

Demurely, Beth closed her eyes once and turned her head a tiny bit, an expression of shyness which I had never seen in her. After all, I had come to know every inch of her body, from head to toe, even her most private areas I had explored to the fullest, yet here she was blushing because I was making her show me her undies. "Why so shy, babes?"

She smiled slightly and blushed again. "I bought the underwear as a set yesterday--panties, bra and slip. I'm not used to wearing things like this." "You look good--really good. I like you to wear sexy underthings. Come here."

She smiled at my compliment, then noticed my erection. She closed her legs and stood up, letting her skirt fall back into place, then padded toward me on cat feet, her visage changing almost instantly to someone who was bent on pouncing me. I had her exactly where I wanted her. I made her stand sideways, between me and the coffee table, facing a full-length mirror I had long ago affixed to the wall for occasions such as this. I had learned early on in our relationship that Beth enjoyed watching herself get humiliated or punished in front of a mirror. That was the voyeur in her, I assume.

"Clasp your hands behind your head," I ordered, then watched the effect this position had on the front of her blouse. Her turgid nipples strained against thin white cotton, poking pebble-like protrusions from the material. I let her look at herself in the mirror for a few moments, contemplating her fate. I guess she assumed her correction this evening would befit her outright disobedience, and I didn't intend to disappoint her.

Sitting forward on the sofa, I reached up and began unbuttoning the front of her blouse, beginning at the frilly top and working my way down. The brassiere, the sides of which unfolded before my eyes, was crafted of the same delicate material as the front of her panties, the see-through mesh and tiny flowers. Getting to the button just above her skirt top, I loosened the belt buckle in front, then pulled the blouse out of the skirt before undoing the final two buttons. I let the blouse hang limply around her waist, half-way opened in front. She took a deep breath as she stared straight ahead, her hands still clasped behind her head. I grasped the left side of the blouse and drew the material to the side, exposing the left bra cup. Her thick coral-colored nipples and the surrounding light-pink, quarter-sized areolas were easily discernible through the lace. Beth bit her lower lip as I stared up at the sexy garment.

I released the blouse, letting it drape around her hips, then placed my palms at the top of her tight red skirt, front and back, and then, applying pressure along the way, moved each hand slowly downward, feeling the crack of her split pumpkin from behind and her flat abdomen and firm pubic mound from the front. My fingers pressed deeply into the 'V' at the front juncture of her legs, locating and quickly pressing her love button just long enough to elicit a short gasp. Simultaneously, I palmed her lower ass and eased my middle finger into the divide, forcing the back of her panties into the ass-crack, brushing her anus. Then my hands continued their downward path, simultaneously pressing against the front and back of her firm, sleek legs, stopping finally when I reached the hem. She took another deep breath, exhaling loudly, as my right hand stole beneath the front hem line and my fingertips lightly touched the bare skin along the inside of her lower thigh.

"Face me," I ordered, and she turned toward me, her lips parted and her eyes now closed. Moving my head forward, I planted a light kiss on the warm skin just above her loosened belt buckle. "You've been a bad girl tonight," I said with my lips still applying pressure to her belly.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Very bad," I said, drawing my head away and looking up at her lowered head.

She opened her eyes briefly, accepting the seriousness of the look on my face, and nodded in affirmation of my statement. I brought my hands to the back of her red cotton skirt, lightly grasping the lower half of her voluptuous buns, feeling the panty line beneath. "What happens to very bad girls, Beth?" I asked. She opened her eyes again, lips pursed in sexy 'O'. She gulped. "They... they get punished severely," she said softly, her voice trailing away. Her eyes searched mine with a maybe-I-went-too-far-this-time look, but she knew it was too late for apologies.

"If I don't exact a real good measure of punishment tonight, the next time you'll think you can get away with being disobedient."

"You won't mark me, will you?"

I shook my head. "No, but don't expect a pleasant experience, either."

My hands moved down the back of her skirt once more, pressing into the backs of her legs, before coming to rest on the bare leg beneath the hem line. Her eyes looked deeply into mine, searching for redemption. I watched her close her eyes and cock her head back as my hands quickly shot up underneath the back of her skirt and grabbed two handfulls of her panty-clad buns, hard enough to make her gasp out loud. Her undies were silky-smooth to the touch. How I loved to feel her ass!

"Open your legs more!" I commanded, then watched her legs slide apart and stretch the skirt to its limit. Boldly, I grasped the underside of her panties and pulled the material to the side, then worked my middle finger between the lower cheeks. Despite its lack of lubrication, I pressed the fingertip against Beth's anal button and felt it break the sphincteral plane almost immediately. Her body jolted at invasion of her most private area, but she did nothing to prevent me from impaling her even more, until I was deeply ensconced in her rectal canal, pressing against the ultra-soft walls.

I toyed with her asshole for at least five minutes, while Beth moaned and tossed her head from side to side. If the feeling of having her asshole fingered hurt at first, she soon became accustomed to it and began to softly gyrate her hips in tune with my pistoning digit. Having had my fill of her deliciously tight anus, I withdrew my finger, moved my hands from beneath her skirt, and placed them on her hips, over the top of her half-opened blouse. I had her lower her arms to her side long enough for me to draw the blouse over her shoulders, then down her arms, letting it fall behind her. Quickly, I stood up and reached behind her, unclasped the bra strap, then watched as the garment slid down her arms, freeing her firm, pointed breasts.

She clasped her hands behind her head again, without being asked, jutting her tits forward. The nipples appeared to be longer and thicker that I had ever seen them. Sitting back down on the sofa, I looked up her. "I want you pinch your nipples real hard, Beth."

She looked at me with a slightly bewildered look on her face, then brought both hands forward and grasped each nubbin between her thumb and forefinger. She was squeezing them, but not nearly tight enough. "If you don't do it right, then I will do it." She squeezed them even tighter, grimacing in pain, and I knew she wasn't acting.

"Pull them out, away from your breasts," I ordered.

Beth's face contorted in pain as she stretched both of her amazingly elastic nubbins well out from her tits, elongating the fleshy protuberances more than I would have done myself were I performing the same act on her. For effect, she even twisted the nipples in her fingers. I had the sense that this was something that she might often do to herself during masturbatory activities. She was definitely too far into it for her not to have done something like this to herself before. "Keep pulling them--hold them out well!" I ordered, then moved my hand to Beth's left hip, unbuttoned the side of her skirt, and pulled the zipper down. The material at my fingertips opened to a wide 'V' and the solid pink rayon of her delicate half-slip burst upon the scene. Reaching down, I tugged at the hem a couple of times, drawing the skirt slowly over her supple hips. Before long, the skirt fell free of its own accord in a silent circle around Beth's bare feet. Without being asked, she stepped out of the circle, kicking the skirt to the side.

The primarily solid pink half-slip, slit several inches on each side about the hem, was as pretty as I had ever seen on any woman. It was thin, almost silky in texture, clinging tightly to Beth's ass and thighs, showing off the firm abdomen perfectly. At the hem of the slip was a two-inch band of flowery lace, similar in appearance to the pretty embroidery that graced her bra and panties. She was left with just two items of clothing now--her panties and the half-slip. Beth was still pulling sharply on her nipples, the effect of which left her face contorted in pain. She was also biting her lower lip, something I had seen her do often as a way of easing her suffering whenever I worked her over in a particularly painful "session." As she took long, deep breaths, her chest heaved outward and she exhaled loudly. I sat back and watched her for at least five minutes and wondered how she could make her sensitive nipples hurt for that long and steady pace. Finally, she looked down at me, her eyes pleading.

"Please, Master, my nipples hurt so much!"

"Okay, you may stop. Clasp your hands behind your head."

As she obeyed my command, releasing her now swollen nipples, her face showed an immediate sense of relief from the pain she had been giving herself. "Bend forward," I ordered, then brought my lips to each of the elongated protuberances, in turn, and soothed them with a soft suckling that at once changed her gasps from pain to pleasure.

As I suckled her nipples, I ran my hands all over the half-slip, enjoying the silky touch of the material and feeling the firm flesh of her thighs and ass beneath. I pulled the slip all the way up, over her hips, and an unmistakable waft of womanly odors, emanating from between her well-opened legs, filled my nostrils. My hand eased into the 'V' at the top of her legs, finding the panty crotch, not surprisingly, to be absolutely soaked from her vaginal secretions.

"Oh, yes!" she gasped, the dual feeling of my lips on her nipple, tonguing it lightly, and my fingers outside her pussy sending a shiver throughout her body. I toyed with panty crotch for a few delicious moments, pressing the material into the cuntal crack, locating the engorged clitoris, and fingering it gently, yielding throaty moans of pleasure from this wanton woman. She would do anything I demanded of her now, willingly.