The Gentleman's Confession Ch. 04

And oh, it was exquisite!

"Now you are going to suffer for me, pet," she added, in another wicked whisper.

Finally, she released my poor, aching, throbbing balls, stood back, and admired her handiwork.

"We are going to have so much fun!" she cried gleefully, once more clasping her hands in delight, and then giving herself a small, brief round of applause. "Oh, I cannot wait to get started! And I do not need to, do I pet? I may do whatever I like, whenever I like..."

A step forward, and that whisper once again:

"And there's nothing you can do to stop it now..."

I shivered. My response was whispered, so she placed a finger beneath my chin, raised my head up and gazed steely at me as she bade me repeat it, more loudly.

"I said... I would not wish to, my Lady."

That brought a further smile.

"I know, pet. You wish to submit to me, and be punished by me. And to think, you once thought you had a will and a mind of your own! Oh you are broken, my boy! So very, very broken!"

It shamed and thrilled me to be told it. But not thrilled so much as when she walked across to the cabinet at the end of the room and opened it, for I could tell from the look upon her face that she was endeavouring to decide what the instrument of my torture should be.

She spent some moments deciding, and then she turned, the chosen implement clutched in her hands. As she came back across the room, her mouth was split by a grin, and her perfect teeth themselves were split by her tongue, the tip of it parting them slightly as she excitedly swept it back and forth.

"Look, pet!" she said excited, standing a few steps in front of me and holding the object up for me to see. "Isn't it simply marvellous?"

It was a paddle. Made of thick, heavy leather, and coated with three rows of shiny metal studs. She took the handle in one hand and swept it experimentally through the air, evidently satisfied with the swing.

"Are you excited, boy?" she asked, clearly breathless with her own excitement. She stepped closer; suddenly, the cold metal studs were pressing against my shaft, pushing it back against my belly, and then she was rubbing the paddle slowly up and down, her face an inch or two in front of mine.

"Tell me what you want, boy..." she said quietly, still rubbing me with the paddle. I was pulling against the bonds, half in agony, half in ecstasy, wracked with pleasure and guilt.

"I just want... I just want to be a good boy..." I said, feeling the tears of shame and joy spill.

"Ah, my silly little pet..."

She laughed, and kissed me on the cheek. Then she stepped back, and suddenly took a gentle swing at my member with the paddle. I shrieked more in surprise than in pain, and spasmed in the frame.

"Tell me what you want," she repeated casually.

"I want... I want... I don't know what I want, my Lady!"

For it was true. Did I want to run home to my wife? Did I want to stay here forever?

She tuttued, and crossed her arms reproachfully, the paddle still clutched tightly in one hand. She began to walk around me, very slowly, in a wide circle, her heels clip-clopping against the cold stone floor.

"I know what you want," she said icily. "But I want you to tell me. I want you to say it, boy!"

Smack!

The first strike! The studs crashed against the flesh of my backside, and I shook in the bonds again, crying out.

"Please, my Lady, I don't know!"

"Yes you do," she said, very airily, so casually, as if it were some stifling summer afternoon, and she were engaged in nothing so taxing as a conversation with a friend. "Tell me now."

"I want..."

What did I want?

Smack!

The second strike, on the other cheek of my tender backside... I remembered how hot and painful it had been when she had beaten me before. This would be a thousandfold worse, I knew that, but I also knew... I knew...

Smack!

"Speak to me boy!" she demanded.

Smack!

Oh the flesh was red, and on fire! And oh, at the hand of such a girl! But it felt... it felt...

Smack!

"I want you to beat me!" I cried out, in pride and lust and triumph. "Oh please, my Lady! Beat me and smash me and break me! Destroy me! Please! Oh please my Lady! Is it all a poor wretch such as I deserves; I need to be shown my place, my Lady! Need to be punished for who and what I am! Oh break me, please, my Lady, break me!"

She was back in front of me now. Grinning like the devil himself.

"Oh, my poor sweet child," she said. "I already have. But now I'm just going to grind you into the dust..."

Smack!

Directly upon my shaft. Agony. And my... my balls... the assault continued. She would walk all around me, raining blows down upon my buttocks, balls, shaft, legs, chest... constantly varying her angle and her pace and the force of her blows... Grinning and laughing all the time as if she were playing a game, which of course she was. A game with me as the toy. A game with her little boy, all tied up for her amusement and pleasure, and I loved it and hated it and wanted it to stop and never wanted it ever to end, not ever, because I deserved it and dirty little boys should have what they deserve.

I do not know how many blows there were. Mercifully, upon this particular occasion she did not require me to count them. I know not for how long she walked around me, smacking me ever harder, slamming the studded leather against my flesh until my backside was a red ruin and the pain thumped all around my body.

But eventually, mercifully, disappointingly, she stopped.

"I think that will do for now, pet," she uttered quietly.

My taut and tensed muscles instantly collapsed into loose slackness, and I hung from my bonds, a battered and most completely broken an individual as you are ever likely to see in all of your born days. I half feared the structure would collapse, as it had to bear all of my weight -- I had no strength left to support myself. My entire body ached, and I throbbed where she had struck me so many times. So many glorious times.

"Thank you, my Lady," I sobbed, the tears running down my cheeks. I had screwed my eyes tight shut, but still the salty liquid flowed. "Thank you so very much!"

And I meant it. I had been bound and beaten, and it had been so very, very good. I felt pure. Cleansed. I felt as though I were where I belonged, and it was truly wonderful.

"Shhhhhhhh."

The paddle was gone -- I know not where. She was standing directly in front of me, and I had not noticed. I opened my eyes a little, and saw that she was smiling, a benign Goddess looking down at the devastation she had wrought; the remains of a creature that had once been a man.

"M... My Lady..."

"Shhhhhh," she repeated, but kindly, placing a finger to my lips. It was soft skin that touched them -- she had removed one of her gloves. This tenderness surprised me, but not half so much as her leaning forward and gently, very softly kissing my chest. She moved her head across to the other side of it and repeated the gesture, and then drew the very tip of her tongue very slowly and carefully between the two points.

Her spittle felt icy cold and refreshing against my warm skin, and as she flicked her eyes up at me once she had completed her task... Oh those eyes! A man could drown in them, I swear it. This pathetic little boy most certainly did.

"It is all going to be fine, my pet," she cooed very softly, stroking my cheek with her ungloved hand and blowing me a kiss with her sweet, sweet lips. "Everything is going to be wonderful..."

I had not the strength to question her. I simply hung there in my frame, my eyes trailing after her as she knelt down in front of me. She sat still for a moment, her eyes looking lasciviously upon my throbbing member, and then she darted her lips forward and planted a very quick kiss upon its tip.

A kiss!

I gasped. She looked up at me, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Not today, pet," she said. "Perhaps another time. I have something much better in mind for you, don't you worry. I need my satisfaction too, and you are do me the honour of the greatest service a boy can do his Lady!"

Again I did not question her. I was, I think, under the mesmeric influence of her beauty and her commanding nature at this point. I merely watched as she worked at the bottom edges of the frame, removing from their slots the round wooden bolts which slotted through holes into the ground beneath. I felt the entire construction sway as it was suddenly supported only by the chain hanging from the top, but she placed her finger quickly to my lips once more.

"It will all be all right, my pet," she assured me, before moving across to the side of the room, where the chain hung down and was spun around a bar fitted to the wall. This length of the chain she began to uncircle, and after several turns it was held freely in her hands.

The frame began to swing wildly, now supported only by the grip of the Young Lady, and I cried out for help as I began to feel myself fall slowly backwards, the frame being lowered to the ground.

"My Lady?" I whimpered pathetically, as the angle increased, and I began almost prostrate.

"Just a little more. Hold on tight, pet."

I hit the ground with a resounding thump, my head striking the cold stone with some little force. I think I was perhaps half-dazed, but not so shocked as not to realise the position in which I now found myself. I was laying, bound tight, on my back, my shamefully stiffened member standing proud for all to see, and suddenly, standing across me with a booted foot on either side of my abdomen, was the Young Lady.

She looked down at me as an own might look down at a vowel. There was a hunger in her eyes, and she licked her lips.

I trembled in my bonds.

"What is going to happen to me?" I whispered fearfully.

"Beautiful things!"

She took the hem of her skirt in her hands then, grasping at the tight-fitting leather. Still looking at me, our eyes locked upon one another's gaze, she began to draw the material up, up, up, still further, her thighs, her moon-white, soft-as-butter thighs opened and exposed...

I screwed my eyes tight shut once more.

"I can't!" I insisted. I turned my head to one side.

"You can!" she spat back, somewhat petulantly. And then, with a more considered air of menace:

"You will!"

There was a boot above my face; a sharp heel digging into the skin of my cheek. It pressed down harder and harder, the smell of the leather suffusing my senses, I could taste it and smell it and I was afraid that at any moment the spike of the heel would pierce my cheek.

"Please!" I gasped.

"Look!" she shouted.

I snapped my eyes open and reluctantly turned my head back around. She removed the boot.

I had never seen the like in my life.

The skirt was fully lifted, and was now clinging tightly to her corset, so that she had no need to hold it. Her legs were spread wide, and she stood almost directly above my face now. I was looking up... Looking up...

Oh God, reader -- I was looking directly up into her cooze!

"What is it, boy?" she asked, as softly as a schoolgirl.

"It... It... oh please my Lady, it is not right that I should..."

"Tell me what it is."

"It..."

"If the silly little boy does not know, shall I tell him?"

I nodded miserably, my member dribbling sticky wet discharge as my heart beat triple-time with the salacious thrill.

"It is a cunt, boy," she said, enunciating every syllable to perfection, making the word all the more shocking. How could a Lady say such a thing?

"And what is more, it is a wet cunt," she continued. "A very wet cunt, that needs to be filled... You're going to fill it for me, aren't you boy?"

I shook my head.

"Please my Lady! I have a wife! I have never... I would never betray her like that! Please!"

"Shut up boy. You worship me now -- you worship this!"

She actually put a finger to it! She put a finger of her own to her... her... cunt as she called it, and she drew it right across!

She shuffled backwards a step or two, and then squatted down over me.

"Taste it... You tasted it before, from your own fingers... You loved it... Now taste it from mine!"

So saying, she ran her finger, sticky and wet and oh-so-sweet, across my lips... The taste was golden, glorious, and in an instant I am ashamed to say my tongue was out and trying to lick it all, but she pulled the finger back and away.

"Ah ah ah..."

I whimpered, beyond words. Even more so when she moved slowly back once more, and lowered herself... As she had been squatting above me, I had paid little heed to how close her sex was to my member, but now... But now...

Oh, she was lowering herself directly onto it! I could feel its warmth, its wetness, and suddenly my member was pressed flat against my stomach as her cunt pushed it downward, her oh-so-silky smooth and slick, tender flesh pressing warm and ready against it.

I sighed. I sighed the sigh of a guilty man, but a guilty man who no longer cares what he is doing. I wanted it. Yes, I confess! I confess all! The only thing I wanted now was to bury my shaft deep inside of her sex, but such a thing was denied me!

"Be patient, pet..." she told me, trailing her slick finger along my sweat-soaked chest, drawing lines and figures in the flesh as she looked down at me, her eyes half-closed. "Patient..."

She rocked her body back and forth over me, running her sex up and down my shaft... up and down... massaging it with her wetness. Teasing me. I think I cried out again. I am quite sure that I did. But she shushed me, and once slapped my face when I made too much noise.

"Wait, you impatient little boy!" she snapped. And then, with a more contented sigh: "I am enjoying this... Enjoy it too pet... Luxuriate in it... in the feel of my cunt..."

This went on for some considerable time. My eyes closed, my breathing quickened and my hands bunched into fists as she went gradually faster and faster, making my shaft ever slicked with her juices, until suddenly she rose up again, just a few inches, reached down and grasped the aching, wanting flesh within her hand.

"Just a little longer, pet..." she breathed.

"Please..."

"Just a little more..."

And then I was inside of her!

The head of my shaft, slipped oh-so-smoothly into her... Her hot, young flesh clasped around it, and I so nearly lost myself there and then, but she seemed alert to the danger, and reached down with a hand to once more grasp my poor balls, this time at their very root... She twisted them with some little violence, and I gasped in pain and begged her to stop, but the effect stalled any crisis in my pleasure, and allowed her to enjoy the satisfaction of sliding herself up and down my shaft without danger of my spurting inside of her divine body.

Up and down she rose and fell upon it, for what seemed like hours... Perhaps it was. I had lost all track of time. I had lost all track of anything. I know knew I had a Goddess, a Young Lady, a Mistress, call her what you will, who had my shaft at her command, and who was impaling herself upon it... Running all the way down until it was buried inside of her up to the base... and then pulling up until the very tip of it merely brushed lightly against her wetness.

The effect of this upon me was, as you might well imagine, quite horrifically teasing. To feel such flesh against your most sensitive skin... To feel the dampness there, the warmth, the tightness, to know how young and fresh that body is, but not to be able to reach the moment of climax! To be teased and tantalised, but not to be able to thrust and to pound...

I was an animal then, all muscle and bone and sinew, nothing human to me at all.

And she knew it.

"You want to fuck me, don't you boy?" she demanded, her eyes now fully closed, her head thrown back and her body arched as she squatted up and down at great speed upon my shaft. The hand not grasping my balls had gone down to her own flesh, and as she used my shaft for her pleasure she was at the very same time diddling her button with her fingers, awash with her own thrill of sexual ecstasy in a completely wanton and lustful display, the like of which I had never before witnessed.

"I..."

"Oh say it say it boy! You want to fuck me! Your wife at home waiting for you and you're buried deep inside of me! You want it! Say it pet! Say it!"

"YES!" I shouted it, cried out at the top of my lungs, pulled against my bonds and called out for all the world to hear. "I want to fuck you my Lady! Please! Please let me fuck you!"

"Ooooooooooooo!"

The cry of orgasmic delight was all hers. She had ridden my shaft to her moment of crisis, and suddenly I felt a tidal wave of her juices flow upon my member, staining me with the evidence of her pleasure as she called out an unknowable cry of pleasure.

She continued to pump my shaft with her flesh until she was quite spent, and then staggered a few steps backwards, still squatted, until she was beyond the end of the frame and seated, exhausted, on the floor.

The moment that she had removed my shaft from herself and released my balls, the pleasure and the frustration intermingled to such an extent so as to overwhelm my senses, and I too reached my orgasm. I felt my thick, creamy white discharge explode across my stomach, pouring out hot and shameful across my flesh, and I knew with terrible certainty the dreadful thing that I had done.

"Annabel!" I called out in despair. "Oh, Annabel, what have I done?"

But there was no Annabel. There was only a satisfied, sated voice in the darkness, soft and low and wicked.

"She isn't here, boy," it said. "You have done what you have always wanted to do. You have become mine, pet -- you are mine forever now."

I wept. I wept for what I had done, and I wept because I knew what the Young Lady was correct -- I had wanted it. And I was hers now, there could be no denying it.

Hers entirely.