To Sir With Lust Ch. 04

Author’s Note: This was another fantasy written in response to my phantom master’s command. He wanted me to take the dominant role so that I might understand how it felt to have the responsibility for a submissive’s pain . . . and pleasure.

~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the whistle of the riding crop just before it catches the tender flesh of your buttocks. With no time to brace yourself, you’re propelled forward one or two paces, but manage to keep your balance, in spite of the fact that your hands are firmly secured behind your back, causing you to adopt a hyper-erect posture. You stifle a moan, sensing that the slightest outcry will result in the crop raining even more blows on your sensitive skin.

[What you have yet to realize, my sweet, is that it simply doesn’t matter. Tonight I will inflict pain simply because it pleases me. Your ability to perform or react will have no bearing on the punishment I’ll inflict. I do it simply because I can. Because it pleases me.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When you arrived at my apartment earlier tonight, you were dressed, as I had requested, in a navy blue pinstriped suit, white dress shirt, a necktie of crimson silk, navy blue socks and navy wingtips. The heavy gold rope chain I gave you at the holidays is around your neck, under your shirt. No underwear. When you asked about this last request, I merely smiled into the phone. “Oh, you’ll see,” I responded coyly.

When you rang my doorbell, you were met by my slaves: one a deeply-tanned blonde, the other a fair-complected brunette. Both girls are tall, at six feet in height, and wearing 5-inch spiked heels, they look down at you. But the first thing you notice isn’t their height. Neither is it their contrasting coloring. Their near nakedness, however, does capture your attention. The corsets and the silk stockings which each of the girls is wearing, leaving their tits, asses and pussies exposed, enhances, rather than hides, their virtual nudity.

“She’s waiting,” the brunette says, and turns and walks away. It takes a few seconds before it dawns on you that you are to follow her. Your eyes widen when you see the red welts decorating her backside, the unmistakable signs of a recent discipline session. Unable to take your eyes off of her rounded ass, you fall into step with her. The blonde follows. You feel your cock start to twitch as you wonder if she, too, bears red stripes on her derriere. You also wonder who put them there.

Your escorts lead you into my den. It looks much the same as when you were here last. I’m sitting in an overstuffed leather chair, my feet propped up on the matching ottoman, a bored expression on my face, reading a book. You’ve seen me sitting in this chair dozens of times before. Tonight, though, there’s something different. Maybe it’s the red high-heeled patent leather boots that reach well above half of my thigh, the tops held in place by garters. Maybe it’s the red silk corset that I’m wearing, my nipples barely covered, pussy exposed. Maybe it’s my makeup, more dramatic than I usually wear. Maybe it’s the riding crop gripped in my right hand, which I rub idly against my pussy lips. Or maybe it’s the various toys I have spread over the coffee table next to my chair.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I look up at you briefly, without expression, then return my attention to my book. I continue reading for several minutes. The only sound in the room is that of the ticking grandfather clock in the foyer. When the clock finally strikes the hour, I close my book and place it on the coffee table, next to the assorted toys.

I look at the Amazons flanking you. “Strip him,” I say quietly.

The brunette helps you out of your suit coat, as politely as if she were your hostess at a dinner party. She then steps behind you, holding your upper arms, as the blonde unties your necktie and slings it over her shoulder. She rips open the front of your shirt, buttons spraying across the room.

Her hands at your waist, the blonde unbuckles your belt and removes it, handing it to me. She then unfastens and unzips the trousers, letting them fall to your feet, your erection exposed. The blonde then kneels in front of you, pulling off your shoes, socks, and slacks while the brunette removes your shirt.

At my nod, the brunette comes forward and retrieves the belt from me, then steps behind you again. You look rather startled as the leather belt is looped around your upper arms several times and then cinched tightly, causing your shoulders to be pulled back and your chest to be thrust forward.

Your attention is suddenly focused on the blonde, who pulls your red silk tie from her shoulder. She and the brunette trade places, and your wrists are bound with the tie. The blonde lets the free end of the tie fall to the floor, and the brunette bends over and picks it up, pulling it between your legs, making sure that the silk is wedged between your ass cheeks, around your balls and just under your cock. Using the tie as a leash, the brunette leads you to my chair.

Rising, the crop tucked under my left arm, I take the end of the silk tie in my left hand; I then take your chin in my right hand, holding it firmly. My face is just an inch away from yours, I’m looking into your eyes coldly as I speak. “I’ve brought you here to punish you; to make you pay for your extreme carelessness, your inexcusable rudeness.” The disdain is in marked contrast to the yielding warmth which you have become accustomed to hearing in my voice. “Don’t you think you owe me an apology?”

“For what?” you ask, a puzzled look crossing your face, a look which quickly changes to one of surprised agony as the crop whistles through the air again, this time landing a stinging blow on the back of your left thigh.

Your body jerks, instinctively leaning away from my right hand, as if to avoid further blows.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you ask.

“Until you give me a specific apology for your egregious behavior, you will address me as ‘Madame’, do you understand?”

“Yes, Babe--, ah, Madame. But apologize for what?”

“You offend me and then ask why you should apologize? This is intolerable!” The tone of my voice is quiet, threatening, you have to strain to hear me. Your pulse is racing, your heart pounding.

“Gabriella, bring the Waterford bowl to me.” The blonde comes forward with a crystal bowl filled with ice, on top of which are two gold clamps.

“Suck his nipples, Gabriella. And make sure that he enjoys it.” The blonde bends over, her lips capturing one of your nipples between her lips and starts to suck it, gently at first, then with more vigor. You feel her tongue laving the sensitive nubbin of flesh, twirling, licking, sucking. In spite of yourself, you close your eyes and concentrate on the pleasure that my amazon beauty is giving you. It is at this precise moment that the blonde takes her mouth away from your hardened nipple and I allow the jaws of the freezing clamp to slowly close around it.

Your eyes fly open at the pain, and you look at me, mute, wondering at the sudden change in my behavior.

You feel Gabriella’s lips surround your other nipple. You try to resist, try not to respond to the delicious sensations as my toy teases your nipple, pulling at it with her lips, the tip of her tongue fluttering back and forth over the nipple, pinching it gently between her pursed lips, nibbling it, sucking it.

I watch you relax and almost before the blonde can take her lips away from you, I let the icy clamp close over the second nipple as well.

As you begin to cry out, I lean forward and kiss you gently, my fingers wrapping around your impossibly stiff erection. You pull back from me in surprise, not realizing how aroused you’ve become, in spite of yourself. Your eyes meet mine and I smile at you sweetly, moving my face closer to you for another kiss.

Relaxing slightly, you lean toward me, and our lips meet in a searing kiss. Pleasure dissolves into pain when I start to twist the nipples which are being punished so cruelly by the clamps.

“Are you ready to apologize?” I ask sweetly, ignoring your agonized expression.

“I don’t understand, Ba--, Madame, what is it that I have done wrong?”

You jump and nearly fall backward as I reach out and slap your erection.

“What’s my name?”

“Uh, Madame?”

“No, not my title. What ... is ... my ... name?” I ask, as if speaking to a very small child.

“Candace?”

“Correct. Now, apologize.”

“I’m sorry Madame. Truly. Please forgive me.”

“Forgive you for what?” I ask quietly.

“I ... I’m not sure. But please forgive me.”

“Unacceptable. Perhaps we need to work on your memory a little more. Olivia, use him for your amusement for awhile, won’t you?”

“Yes, Madame,” responds the brunette. “Is there anything special you would like me to do?” she asks.

“No, my dear,” I reply. “You know my tastes, I leave it to you to entertain me as you entertain yourself.”

I sit down in the leather chair once again, my thighs parted.

“Gabriella, my sweet pet, come here and help me relax.”

The blonde comes to me quickly, and kneels between my thighs. I spread my legs a little wider--I want to make sure that you can see all of this. The blonde reaches up and frees my breasts from the corset and begins to caress them. I stretch luxuriously, feeling my nipples harden, feeling the little shocks of pleasure going off in my clit. I lower my eyelids, but I’m really looking at you, gauging your reaction to this little show.

The blonde is asking me something, her voice soft, and you can’t quite hear her. Chuckling, I shake my head. The blonde repeats her question, you still can’t make out the words, but you hear the urgency in her voice. This time I nod, an indulgent expression on my face. The blonde smiles beatifically, and, as she continues to play with my tits, she lowers her face to my legs, and you can hear her as she begins to lick and kiss my thighs.

You continue to watch, no longer aware of anything else in the room. Your eyes widen as you see the blonde’s open mouth close around the lips of my pussy. I start to buck against the girl’s face and you can see her lips, nose, chin and cheeks glisten in the light from the coating of my juices against her face.

Your mouth is open, your breath is coming in short jagged bursts. I know what you’re thinking.

“Do you want to trade places with my little toy?” I ask teasingly.

Mute, you nod.

“Then you must apologize.”

Still mystified at my request, you remain silent rather than give an inappropriate answer and anger me further.

You watch as the blonde spreads the lips of my flushed pussy with her fingers and begins to tongue fuck me. You can see the silvery strands formed by my secretions that stretch from my cunt to her tongue. Your mouth waters at the memory of my taste on your tongue, and you can smell the warm, musky fragrance as it wafts through the air.

You’ve been concentrating so hard that you’ve forgotten all about Olivia. You paid no attention as she strolled over to the table displaying some of the toys from my collection. But she has resumed her place behind you and, without warning, pulls you back against her. You feel something cold and slick against your ass, and you realize that Olivia has chosen the strap-on dildo that you noticed on the table earlier. She teases you with it for a few minutes, allowing you to become accustomed to the feel of it, and then slowly starts to fuck you in the ass. You squirm and moan at the pain.

“You can make it stop,” I tell you. “Just apologize.”

You say nothing since you have no idea what you’ve done to anger me.

You watch as the blonde inserts a pair of ben-wa balls into my pussy, then straddles me, rocking me back and forth as she starts to lick and suck my breasts. You see me bucking underneath her, my fingers playing with my clit. I look up at you, watching as the brunette violates your ass, I look at your raging hard-on, and I snap my fingers. Olivia immediately stops moving, the dildo still buried deep inside of you. She reaches around and applies gentle pressure to your cock, just where the head meets the shaft of your penis. Your erection immediately relaxes. She draws both hands up your chest, her fingers brushing against your nipples which are still being tormented by the little gold clamps. You jump at the sharp pain that courses through your body.

Olivia pulls the dildo out of your ass, you’re surprised at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

“I’m afraid that you won’t be allowed to come until you apologize.”

“Apologize for WHAT?” you ask beseechingly.

“Think about it. You’ll figure it out,” I reply.

Meanwhile, you feel Olivia’s fingertips probing at your asshole, inserting something inside of you. It doesn’t hurt, but you wonder what it could be.

Suddenly, Olivia is standing in front of you, connecting the cruel clamps with a chain. She then takes a one-pound weight and hangs it on the chain, pulling on your nipples. You moan aloud at the pain.

You see me beckon to your tormentor. Your eyes widen as I hand her a long, wide paddle, one that’s obviously been well used for countless years.

I smile at your expression.

“This has been in my family for a long, long time. Olivia has learned to wield it like an expert, which is no surprise, considering how many times she’s been on the receiving end of this particular heirloom.”

Olivia resumes her place behind you. You tense, anticipating the first blow, but it doesn’t come. You begin to relax--and this is when the paddle strikes. Your body jerks forward, causing the weight to swing like a pendulum, tugging on your nipples. She strikes you again, on the other side of your ass, and you cry out at the pain this time. Olivia continues to paddle your ass, striking you at random intervals. You wish that she would at least develop a rhythm so that you could be prepared for the blows; it’s a futile wish.

After several minutes, you realize that you’re once again sporting a raging hard-on. The more surprising realization is that you’re actually reaching backward with your ass, anticipating the next stinging slap of the paddle. The pain in your nipples and your buttocks is starting to give way to pleasure.

You look across the room at me, Gabriella still intent on pleasuring me. My legs are now thrown over her shoulders, she’s begun to fuck my ass using a double-ended dildo, her hands stroking and pinching my nipples. And I’m watching you. I see the tears falling silently over your cheeks. You’re probably not even aware of them, but I suddenly crave the taste of that salty moisture on my tongue.

“Olivia, that’s enough. If he could remember, he would have by now. Go get the e-mail from my desk.”

The brunette leaves the room. The blonde continues to pleasure me. You watch us, wishing that you could either join or trade places with one of us, your erection swelling to impossible dimensions, and I quietly covet the pre-come that I see glistening at the head of your cock.

The raven-haired submissive returns with a sheet of paper in her hand, and brings it to me.

Reluctantly, I disengage myself from the blonde. My legs still spread, you see her reach into my pussy and remove the ben-wa balls.

Standing I walk over to you.

“I’ll ask again, what is my name?”

“Candace?” you respond hesitatingly.

“Are you certain?” I ask.

“Yes, Madame.”

I thrust the paper before you. “Then who the hell is Tricia?” I demand.

“Tricia?” you respond. “What do you mean--” and you cut yourself off as you read the e-mail that you sent to me the night before:

"Tricia, let me have a look at that," I say, not

much louder than a whisper. I am given another

look at your wicked smile and flashing eyes....”

The blush on your cheek is all the apology I need.

“Candace--Madame--I--oh shit,” you stammer.

I reach out and gently remove the nipple clamps. You wince as the circulation is restored.

My slaves untie your wrists and remove the belt from your arms.

At my nod, the blonde and the brunette sandwich you between their voluptuous bodies--blonde in front, brunette in back. You can still smell and taste the juices, my juices, clinging to the blonde’s face and tongue. You kiss her roughly, hungrily. Your hands find her breasts and start to squeeze them, pinching the nipples.

The brunette has her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder, hands playing with your cock and balls.

The blonde takes her face from yours and leans over to kiss the brunette. (Olivia, you see, has almost as large an appetite for my essence as you do.) At the same time, Gabriella takes your rod and guides it between her thighs, squeezing you.

Your hands, one in front and one in back, find the cunts of both girls simultaneously and you start to masturbate them, your fingers coated with their fluid.

I sit quietly in my chair, enjoying the little orgy taking place before me, biding my time, stroking my own hot pussy.

I watch as the girls slide down your body, my playmates on your left and right sides. They start licking and sucking you, one mouth on your cock and the other on your balls, both pairs of lips slurping over your dick, stopping from time to time to kiss each other, tongues probing deeply into each other’s mouths, hands and fingers playing with tits and pussies.

The erotic action comes to a sudden halt, however, with a single snap of my fingers. Startled, the girls look up at me. At my nod, they guide you to the down-filled sofa, help you lie down, position a pillow under your head and leave the room, without a sound, without a backward glance.

I walk over to you. Reaching down, I stroke your face. You start to flinch, and then relax.

I straddle you, swinging one leg over your body, my knees on either side of your hips. I start to lower myself onto your tool then think better of it and start to stroke my pussy while I’m poised right above your cock, the backs of my fingers brushing against the head of your cock as I withdrawn them from my steaming box.

Finally, I take you. I impale myself on your meaty cock, grinding against you as I start to fuck myself, raising and lowering myself on your fuck-pole. Your hands grab my breasts, massaging them, pinching and twisting my nipples as our crotches grind against each other.

Sitting up, you wrap your arms around me and lower your mouth onto mine in a deep, passionate kiss. I lick and suck on your tongue the same way that I’ve licked and sucked your cock so many times before.

Leaning against me, you push me down on the sofa, laying on top of me. Holding me down by my shoulders, you start to fuck me in earnest, ramming your erection into me roughly, grunting in your efforts, causing me to gasp as the wind is forced out of me.

I know that you’re nearing the edge. I fuck you in return, my breasts shaking with the force of my efforts. Your sweat is rolling off of your body, bathing me.

I feel my own orgasm approaching. My legs stiffen, I feel the churning in my belly slow down and deepen, then rise. My breath is ragged, I can barely breathe, and as I look into your eyes I see them glaze over while your body stiffens for just a few seconds.

It is at that precise moment that my fingers encounter the little wooden handle dangling from your ass. I pull on it, a slow, controlled motion, and hear you bellow as the string of Thai love beads is expelled from your ass, one at a time, the unexpected sensation causing you to explode inside of me as you climax.

Finally, your orgasm subsides and you collapse on top of me, spent, sated, breathless.

And at last, we sleep ...