A Femdom Bachelorette Pt. 04

"Well that makes me feel a lot better about wanting to hurt you. I'm going to keep going with this, OK?"

"Whatever pleases you, Sir."

"And let's continue our conversation, shall we?" The question was punctuated with a hard stroke that landed across my thighs.

"Tell me about what you said to Kendra," she said, tap-tap-tapping away with the cane.

"What I said to Kendra, Sir?" I wasn't sure exactly what she was asking about.

"The spit in your coffee. That it turned you on a little, but you were more interested in her enjoyment."

"Yes Sir," I said, as a particularly heavy stroke came down on my ass. I cried out and took several deep breaths. She gave me the space to do so and I was grateful.

"So, about the spit."

"It isn't just the spit, Sir," I started. "There are a host of BDSM things that turn me on somewhere between a decent bit and not very much at all, but I'll gladly do them if the dominant wants me to."

"Why do you think that is, Robert?"

Before I could answer another hard stroke landed, and the time I got taking a sharp intake of breath and getting back to baseline gave me time to think. "It's about devotion, I think," I said. "I want to prove myself to the dominant by doing anything for them. A lot of guys like to act out a submissive fantasy, where they tell the dominant what to wear and what to say and so on. I could do that, I have my fantasies, but it isn't the point."

"And if the dominant wants to sit in a sweat suit and have you fold laundry?" she asked, another stroke landing.

"I've done that!" I laughed. "I think she was in yoga pants and a hoodie but I picked up dry cleaning and was invited in to fold laundry."

"And that was satisfying?"

"It was. If I'm honest it was partly because I knew we had fun dungeon time coming, but there's a part of me that just wants to serve."

"Interesting." She considered things for a moment, even stopping the tap-tap-tapping before remembering what was happening and resuming. "but that sounds like someone you had a relationship with, no?"

"Yes Sir, it was"

"And the four of us are not that, but you're doing all kinds of shit for us."

"Yeah, I thought about that. Do you want the intellectualized story I kind of wrote, or what might be the straight answer?"

"Both."

"I like the notion of serving any woman. Like, embracing female supremacy and acknowledging that a lot of instincts I see as feminine are better for me and maybe for the world. That any women deserves the submission and devoted service of any man."

"Is that the honest answer?"

"No," I said. "The honest answer is I like being told what to do. It makes life easier."

"Ain't that the truth," she laughed. "Well then. What you are to do is to continue to take this punishment. I have realized I do not want my friends to think "what did she do to him in there." I want them to be able to see it." And with that, she must have drawn her arm back all the way because I could hear the cane whistling in the air as it came forward, whistling for what my brain instinctively knew was a long time, longer than the ones before it, and somehow I managed to process all of that and attain the realization "this is going to suck," and then the blow landed, and even having processed what was coming it suuuuuuccccked. A sharp, heavy pain, landing and holding, reverberating even, as if the neurons have been maxed out and are just stuck now, sitting at levels of intense pain. And then, as that feeling is still ringing around my nervous system, the return to the steady tap-tap-tap.

From there she settled into something of a rhythm, moving from my ass down one thigh, up the other, and then returning to where she had struck before, building up a little at a time, each serious blow landing just as the last one receded from my awareness, each one linked to the last with the tap-tap-tapping. I found myself drifting into subspace, aware of little except trying to ride out the punishment. Then there was a pause, the striking ceased and I became aware that the cane was passing between my legs for a moment. She came in close behind me, raising it in front of my face, shiny with what I realized was a stream of precum that I had been leaking.

"Clean it," she said to me. I obeyed. I heard her move back into the striking position and the tap-tap-tap returned and I had to do it.

"Yellow," I choked out.

"Oh my god," she said, dropping the cane and hurrying to unclip my limbs. I was unsteady on my feet and she stepped under my arm, shifting my weight onto her shoulders. "I, uh, I don't know how to do that at half speed or whatever. Let's change it up." She stumbled with my weight on top of her but together we made it to the day bed, crashing down, her halfway underneath me, both of us breathing hard. We ended up with my head on her stomach and she started brushing my hair with her fingers.

"This is a bit more tender than I had expected, Sir."

"Me too, Robert."

Neither of us said anything for a minute. "Fuck," she started again. "That was insanely hot. Get off me for a second." I scuttled off and she stood up to pull down her miniskirt, revealing both that she was not wearing panties and that she was very, very wet. She flopped back down on the daybed. "Listen closely," she said. "You are going to lick my clit while using two fingers to penetrate me, focusing on thrusting in and out. No g-spot. When I say so you're going to stop and lie on the floor, head towards me and feet away. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir," I said, marveling at the energy that was coming at me. I dropped to my knees and got to work. Very quickly I could hear her breath coming faster and faster, feeling her hips twisting under me. "Go, go!" she yelled, shoving me off. I dropped to the floor and she scooted to the edge of the day bed, dropping her feet to either side of my face. Seconds later, she was screaming and squirting, bathing my face and chest. She dropped back on the day bed and I stared up at the ceiling, lightly in love.

"I enjoyed that, Robert," I heard her call. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Sir," I told her. I watched from the floor as she stood up, put her skirt back on, and practically skipped out of the dungeon. It took me more than a few minutes to get up, and I ended up crawling into the shower. The hot water stung my lower half immensely, and I realized that in a few places she had broken the skin. I stood in the shower and admired my backside in the bathroom mirror. Much of my ass was a deep red, and layered in stripes, many of them raising bumps of flesh at the edges. Radiating out from that were stripe after stripe, some lightly red and likely to fade, others almost the color of a good Bordeaux that I was sure would be a solid bruise by morning. Molly had wanted the others to see something and she had met that mark. I stared and stared at the marks and again cursed my chastity. Sleep came quickly once again, although at one point I rolled on to my back and I shot awake in agony.