Cockwhipped

I lay back listening to the sound of my wife hungrily slurping away at my cock, as she did every day when I returned home and pondered how lucky I am. I married Margot, a spoiled daddy's girl from the right part of town used to getting what she wanted. Daddy being, of course, Clifton Meriwether Van Rijn, renowned shipping magnate, whom I had the opportunity to work for as a landscape consultant- a gardener for the less verbally dexterous.

Back then Margot had led a life of leisure, never having to wait longer than it took for the bank to open to get whatever she desired. At the age of eight she was given a pony and, having grown tired of that, she received a motorboat when she was thirteen. On her fifteenth birthday she was given the expected car- a top of the line Jaguar that she managed to drive with a false license, though she needn't have bothered with a last name like hers.

We first met the summer of her eighteenth year. I had managed to finagle a job with a landscaper after dropping out of high school two years prior due to unsubstantiated charges. Margot was off to Princeton in the next month, a fine school except when you consider that her peers had chosen Harvard or Yale for their educations. She wasn't that academically inclined, however, and chose an easier institution well aware that a life of leisure awaited her no matter where she went.

I was clipping the hedges along the border of the expanse of their property when I first saw her. She was laying out by the pool wearing a tiny red bikini that clung to her pampered frame as if it were painted on. Her body echoed the traits of runway models; long, svelte legs giving the appearance of great height topped with full breasts and an almost cherubic face hidden behind sunglasses too large for her face. Despite her sedentary lifestyle, her ass remained tight and even from the edge of the yard I saw the thin, red material pulled taut when she opened her legs.

A look over her shoulder caught me eyeing her and she seemed pleased that I was more focused on her than my task at hand. Rolling over, she leaned her face back from the brightness of the sun and moved her palm between her thighs. I watched her masturbate from afar for a few minutes then turned back to the hedges, bored from the exaggerated head tossing and false orgasms.

When I looked back she was sitting up on her elbows, her brow furrowed, obviously upset with my lack of interest. Aware that my attention had returned, she stood and nonchalantly removed her bikini. I admired her body, fresh, young and toned. She must have a trainer that coerces her at the gym because I saw every muscle in her body was in place. Her body was not overly athletic, but soft and round as a woman's body should be.

She made to dip her toe in the pool and quickly pulled it back, the full cheeks of her ass quivering with movement. As she turned back to me I could see the full bush of dark hair and her breasts headed by stiffened nipples. Hands on her hips, she appraised me as I had done to her before throwing a towel over her shoulders and returning to the home. A sashay in her steps brought my attention to the beauty of her legs and her soft cheeks pressed together.

I didn't see her for the rest of the day but as I pulled out of the driveway I noticed her looking down from the topmost window. She smiled and waved when I looked up and I saw she was bare-chested. Her areolas were small against her breasts and her skin looked flushed, as if she'd just come from the sauna.

I did not return the wave but instead drove on, wondering why a woman like her felt the need to flaunt herself in front of total strangers. I went to work for the next week but saw no sight of her. I figured she was being her usual pampered self and sleeping late or just lazing around the house. Though I knew she went away to school much of the year, she had shown no sign of having a job or even attempting to get one. She was content whiling her days away inside or spending it shopping.

I didn't see her for the next week and didn't think much of it until one weekend as I was edging the lawn beside the Jacuzzi. Something was going on inside the house. I heard the sounds of crashing, people yelling and I heard doors slamming. It was none of my business so I kept my mind on the job (as well as the paycheck) though the voices became louder and louder. Eventually I recognized them as that of the old man and his wife, a woman with even less to do that her daughter. Though she mostly kept to herself and stayed at home I knew she loaned her efforts and time to various charity functions, mostly so her face can be seen smiling above freshly stamped plaques and certificates. It gave her something to brag about during her country club luncheons.

The focus of the argument was, as expected, the daughter. I could see her through the windows of the first floor as she descended the steps in a few quick leaps, shouting over her shoulder the entire time. Though I did not make out what was said, I did hear that the Van Rijns took a great deal of pleasure in ruining their daughter's life. All from the aspect of their progeny, of course.

Barefoot and dressed in only a tank top and pair of skintight shorts she huffed out the front door. Moments later I heard her gunning the engine of her recently gifted Jaguar and speed off. With their daughter gone I heard nothing more though I'm sure her parents were both upset with her actions and thankful that her exit had brought peace back into the home.

As it was none of my business, I didn't consider the row until later that night when I heard an urgent tapping on my door. I had fallen asleep, my body stiff from work, but I arose and answered the door, surprised by the heavy rains the spattered the window and flooded the sidewalk. Margot stood there, her soaked hair lying over her face like seaweed. Her makeup had run into a dark mess that collected on her chin and the corners of her eyes.

She was trembling, her damp clothes offering no protection from the cold. I ushered her in before she could say a word. Once inside she merely stood in the opposite doorway, her arms clutching her sides and trembling. I watched her with only slight amusement.

"I have no place..." she stopped when I gave her a disbelieving look and said, "Can I stay here tonight?" I went to look for a towel and when she saw me leave added "...Please?"

I said she could and handed her a fresh towel. "But," I said, "You have to go home tomorrow. I know your parents are worried about you and if they know where you've gone to it will be my hide." She nodded her acceptance and began toweling her hair.

I collected some extra sheets to arrange a makeshift bed on the living room couch and heard her turn the shower on down the hall. She had undressed en route and her clothes lay in tiny piles in the hall. I noticed a scrap of pink silk that served as her underwear. It didn't have enough material in it to serve as a washcloth.

Steam billowed from the bathroom and I noticed the opaque silhouette of her body behind the curtain. "Shampoo's on the shelf. There's an extra bar of soap by the sink." I called into the clouded air.

"Found em, thanks."

I stood in the doorway and studied her figure for a time while she washed. Her body was lean and well cared for- obviously the result of a pampered lifestyle and more than enough free time to go to the gym. The water stopped and she reached for a towel and began drying. At that time I returned to my room and got into bed. Soon afterwards I heard her in the living room laying on the couch.

When I awoke the next morning she was still asleep. The blankets were gathered near her chin, exposing her bottom half. Small white silk bikini panties covered her. I felt myself growing in response but I knew what would happen if I acted on my urges. Her family was looking for her and were she to be found with me, I knew what would happen. I shook her gently to wake her but she whined and turned. Now her trim butt, delineated by a layer of silk, faced me. I shook her again, this time with a bit more force but she groaned as if exasperated. I knew she had to leave and spending the morning slowly helping her wake is not something I had time for. With a heavy slap to her butt, I spoke her name loud enough to get her to respond.

She turned with a look of shock in her eyes. "Time to get up," I said. "Your parents are wondering where you are and your little temper tantrum has gone on long enough. It's time for you to get dressed and go home."

Her look of shock turned to one of indignation. "Don't ever tell me what to do. You work for my daddy so you work for me. If I want to stay in bed all day that's my business and there's nothing you can do about it!" She looked at me, "And don't you ever lay a hand on me again!"

I pulled the sheets from her body, leaving her almost naked body to the cold. She quickly wrapped her arms around herself, her tiny breasts jiggling in the morning air, and sat up. Rushing towards me, she used a free hand to try to grab the covers but I held it from her reach. "Give it to me!" She screeched. "I'm going to tell my dad on you!"

I smirked at the idea of a physically grown woman using such a childish threat. She had been coddled far too long and was too used to getting her way. I knew it was high time that someone stand up to her and stop always giving her what she wants. It's time to give her something she needs.

"Princess," I called, using a pet name given to her by her father. "This is my home and here I don't answer to anyone. You're a big girl now and don't have daddy to hide behind. When you're in my house you'll do as I say."

"You bastard," she swore. "How dare you. I can't wait to tell my daddy what you've done. You won't be able to get a job within a hundred miles of here."

Tired of words, I dropped the sheets and grabbed her wrist as she bent to retrieve them. She said not a word but stumbled as I pulled her behind me. I felt her struggle but she was small and I had no difficulty holding her firm. She stopped as I sat and, with a tumble, I pulled her over her lap. Most likely she had never been spanked and was only acquainted with the practice in romance novels and stories she heard from her giggling friends. As it was, she put up little resistance over my lap.

Without a word, I pulled down the thin veil of her panties and displayed her bared bottom to the empty room. She gasped and started writhing, but I held her strong. As my hand smoothed across the soft surface of her tiny bottom, she soon calmed and rested peacefully. My touches were reaching that inner part of her, soothing the rambunctious, young woman she was.

"Now then Margot," I spoke down to her. "You're a daddy's girl and a demanding one at that. I know no one's ever taken a hand to you before, I'm sure your nannies and nurses have all been afraid to but when you're with me I won't have you acting like a spoiled brat. You've had this coming for years and I hope you learn from it."

I could feel her swallow and I watched the muscles of her bottom relax and give in to my declaration. Without a word I began spanking her fully. The soft globes of her ass shook with each resounding slap and her yells intensified as the skin of her butt swelled. I knew I had to spank her completely to get through. She was used to getting her way too often and for it to work she had to feel shamed.

I chose not to scold her, and allowed my hand to do my speaking for me. The litany of threats and curses that spewed from her mouth soon turned to quick sounds of pain. She began to speak to me in a tiny voice in an attempt to stop the fall of my hand on her bottom.

"Please Tim, I've had enough...please don't hurt me. I'll do as you say."

I knew it was difficult for her to say that, not only for the promises she made but because she used my first name. She had always referred to me with my last name, as she did with all the others she saw as servants and therefore, beneath her. I was enjoying the change almost as much as the feel of my hand on her cute, padded bottom so I stopped for a moment. I allowed myself to stroke the cute butt across me lap, my fingers playing up and down her crease and between the juncture of her thighs. Her small form relaxed at my touch and I noticed her slowly giving in. Her buttocks unclenched and her thighs parted. With an authoritative touch I pressed my finger down the soft crack of her bottom. She made no attempts to resist, only whined softly. I knew it was more for show than anything.

I reached the tiny bud of her anus and pressed into her. She opened like a flower and I felt the warm tightness of her virgin hole as her legs parted further. There was a sound as if she tried to speak but I heard no words. Tracing further down, I touched the soft puff of pubic hair that barely covered her tight cunny.

She was damp and, as my finger traveled to her sex, she opened to me. I could see the tiny passage that looked so fresh and inviting. I probed her, questioning.

"You're a virgin aren't you, little girl?"

She looked over her shoulder and scoffed childishly, "Please..."

I laughed to myself and gave her a quick spank on her moist pussyhole. "Slut!"

To this she purred and her body went slack. Her neck hung to the floor and her arms hung loose. One hand reached to me blindly, traveling over my body, down my chest, gripping my crotch.

I was hard and she knew it. Not wanting to allow her the advantage, I pressed my middle finger into her tight back passage. She gasped an entreaty at this, followed by a shrill sigh as my forefinger delved between the slick lips of her cunt. With my free hand I grabbed a shock of her hair and pulled her to the floor before me.

She went willingly, her body a tangle of limbs as it crashed to the floor. I landed on top of her, my knees at her side, body above her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open. The tip of her tongue flitted aimlessly along her lips and a tiny spot of saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth.

My free hand tore at my clothes, pulling at my belt, yanking open the clasp of my trousers. In moments my cock was free and I pressed it against her face as a taunt. She responded with a warm sound of delight. Eyes still closed, she ran her face over my shaft. With my palm against her chin I opened her mouth and held it as I directed my cock between her lips. When it touched her tongue she whined happily. I felt her asshole clench against my fingers. I saw the head of my cock pressing her cheek outward. She gagged slightly and gulped air when it blocked her throat.

I pulled it out then, gripping it at the base and slapped it against her face. It made wet slapping noises against her skin and she rolled her face side to side beneath my balls. My fingers were still knuckles deep in her ass and pussy and I thrust them into her roughly, demanding her to come. Wetness from both holes kept her warm and slippery and, despite the discomfort I know she felt, she did nothing to disengage me. In fact, her knees opened further, allowing me to penetrate deeper.

I continued to taunt her, calling her filthy names; slut, whore, bitch. All vile things I know would upset her at any other time yet she took to them like pet names from a lover. Her nipples firmed and she scissored her legs each time I spat out such words. One hand reached up to stroke me and, when it did, it was not with the fumbling eagerness of a novice but the practiced touch of a girl that knows the tastes of a man. Her hand curved around my shaft and she gripped me comfortably. Rather than yanking on me, she stroked and I felt the anger flow from my body. She licked her palm and replaced it, her other hand now going to my balls where she gripped and gently tugged them.

I allowed her this freedom and watched as she skillfully manipulated my organ. I rested just above her so that my balls would occasionally brush her cheekbone. Still my fingers plowed into her and yet she showed no resistance. Her eyes were closed with a slight smile upending the corners of her lips.

For the moment, save for our shared moans, we were quiet. Both of us enjoyed the other, enjoying the body of the other for our own desires. It was then I learned that this girl, this young trollop that was nothing more than a drain on her daddy's seemingly bottomless wallet, enjoyed sex more than anyone I have ever known. She loved it more than a person possibly could. To her the male organ was the Divine. She knew and loved each aspect of it, from the first folds on the scrotum to the tight slit on the end of the prick. There were days she would do nothing more than imagine the beauty and wonder of a man, dream of it filling her throat, penetrating her aching quim. She even dreamt of bending over helplessly and feeling a cock penetrate her back end, an act I'd later learn was a favorite of hers.

At this moment, my cock leaving a wet trail as it slid across her face, she was in her element. Her eyes remained closed yet her mouth showed a sublime smile that radiated calm. As I looked down at her, I felt as if I'd reached an epiphany. My cock pulsed with want and I placed my palm on her chin and opened her mouth. I rested above her and plunged my shaft deep into her person. She sputtered and gagged, something I expected, even reveled in, but didn't restrain myself. It took a few difficult moments and she was soon happily sucking my cock as she was meant to. With a deep, sincere sigh, I began slowly pumping out of her willing, kewpie- doll mouth.

I felt an onrush of warmth in my balls and I pulled out before I approached orgasm. I came between her lips, globs of saliva coating her. Her eyes opened and, rather than be upset as I expected her to be, she merely looked sad. I watched her throat as she quickly swallowed all that came out of me. She seemed practiced in the skill and I was surprised to see she didn't spill a drop. As she finished I heard a soft sigh come from deep within her.

She wiggled out of her shirt, offering her two tennis ball sized breasts to me and, with the most desperate of looks, held them to me as an offering. I noticed the lost, scared look in her eyes and knew she was getting to that place where I wanted her. There was a desperate, submissive slut behind the façade of spoiled, materialistic brat and I planned to draw it out and keep her for everyone to see.

Rather then bend and take her nipple in my mouth as I'd have liked, I reached to one and, looking her dead in the eye, squeezed it firmly between my thumb and forefinger. She didn't look away, but held my gaze as I tested her. The pain increased and I saw her breathe in quickly. Finally, she broke, twisting her body and yanking her swollen nipple from my grasp. Her hair hung haphazardly over her face as she looked down, preventing me from seeing her face. What I heard was the soft sound of sobbing.

She wasn't used to such treatment but I knew she had thought about it. I called to her.

"Margot."

When she turned I saw tears forming in her eyes. I realized it turned me on and I felt my cock stiffening at the sound of her crying. She sniffled slightly and looked down to my cock. Cautiously she reached out and skimmed the rim of the head with one outstretched finger. My cock wagged from the attention.

"Slut."

She nodded in agreement and when she looked up again I saw shiny tracks of tears down her porcelain cheeks. It was if a light had come on behind her reddened eyes. Realization and acceptance hit and I saw her visibly accept her position. She was a different girl now. She was mine.

Her tiny hand wrapped around my length while another reached lower to carefully handle my balls. It felt good and, with an encouraging push, I angled her so she could see only my cock. She seemed mesmerized by it and examined it meticulously, pulling back the foreskin, running a finger up the bottom of the shaft and pressing a dainty thumb against the swollen head. I allowed her this as I wanted her to appreciate it and learn it properly.