Master Specs 'n his Special Effects

Master's a Bastard

Ms. Ponsonby grasped the counter with all her might, and bit her lower lip. Five harsh painful lines on her upper thighs, two on her back and three already on her bottom.

And oh, she wanted to masturbate!

Specs swung the rattan cane hard against her small but curvy buttocks. "How many is it?"

"Oooh!" Ms. Ponsonby screamed. She reached around with her hand to touch what she thought was a broken blister on her left cheek.

"No, no, Ms. Ponsonby" Specs said patiently. "Remember, you keep your hands clutching the counter. Turn your right hand over, please, hold it out while you keep your other hand on the counter."

Ms. Ponsonby's lower lip trembled. "Bu-please."

"Put it out."

Ms. Ponsonby put her hand out and closed her eyes, and Specs slashed it with the cane.

"No, don't put it back yet. You counted several of my strokes, 'Thank you, Specs, may I have another' but then you stopped. I know it's painful but..."

Ms. Ponsonby shook her head. Her palm felt as if it had been burned. "Of course, Master Specs, but could you correct my other hand, since this one hurts so much?"

Specs laughed. THWACK! the cane came down hard on her already punished hand, but then he let her re-grasp the counter.

"Ms. Ponsonby, you have to learn to take the pain and thank your Master."

"Yes-Specs." Ms. Ponsonby paused. "I do want to be here, Specs."

"I know you do, Ms. Ponsonby." Specs said soothingly. He reached down and rubbed a stubbly forefinger against Ms. Ponsonby's shaved clit.

Ms. Ponsonby opened one eye and surveyed him. Specs was no beauty, that was for sure. And Ms. Ponsonby had once been a model.

And she was a tough broad. Ms. Ponsonby was chief Compliance Officer at the Buttermilk Falls Polytechnic Conglomerate, but she really needed to be dominated.

She'd heard of Specs through word of mouth, and had taken him to lunch. After hearing his rates, she'd gotten up the nerve to put her cards on the table.

She'd picked at her salad, and basically interrogated Specs. That she did.

"I need a strong man to give me direction and teach me to take severe corporal punishment. I'm a feminist, certainly, but I have been in the scene since college."

It was funny, her first Master had been a sweet guy in his early twenties, her teaching assistant. He'd just been grateful to have her as a gorgeous friend, but when she'd told him of her needs and desires, he'd quite willingly ordered her to drop her jeans and take a spanking...

And there had been other guys. Masters. But none of them really understood her, and she'd heard so much about Specs on the Internet. Part of the reason she'd taken the job at Polytech Conglomerate was because she knew Specs lived here in Buttermilk Falls.

"Do you understand my needs, Specs?" Ms. Ponsonby had speared an olive from her Greek salad and gobbled it lightly.

"More than you know, kiddo." Specs had said, gazing fondly at her through his mended eyeglasses.

Ms. Ponsonby had been somewhat doubtful, though her Teaching-Assistant master had gone from being worshipfully afraid to hurt her, to having her eat from a dog dish within six months.

But he wasn't creative, was Specs going to be creative?

Now, naked, Ms. Ponsonby's butt shaking from the cane's impact it was sort of a dilemma. Had he gone too far? Why then, was she so horny?

Her clit was welling up, even as Specs pulled his meandering fingers away, right before she exploded. How did he KNOW?

"Do you remember why you're getting this caning?"

"Y-yes. Because I couldn't kneel right?"

"I asked you to spend your day off kneeling in a little taped triangle, that I laid, using my best hockey tape-" Specs sounded terribly aggrieved.

"Just kneel in the middle of the floor from nine to twelve this morning, and then you could get up. The nanny-cam would cover your progress."

"Yes, I did the best I could-" And it was giving up a hell of a lot. She had plans with her girlfriends from Pilates, Chardonnay at Buttermilk Bistro, and then shopping...

Ms. Ponsonby did work so hard. But she'd cancelled everything to do this for Specs. She had a weird fantasy that if she was the perfect submissive, he might stop charging her and even move in.

He'd be a homely husband, but what a dominant!

"So you shifted in the little tape triangle. Specs came up and rubbed his blue-jeaned crotch against Ms. Ponsonby's suffering rear.

"I did. I tried hard to stay kneeling, I've been practicing weird positions in Yoga and Pilates but-"

Specs had lit a cigarette and burned Ms. Ponsonby's back for just a moment.

"Stop interrupting me, Ms. Ponsonby. You really have so much to learn."

"I-I know." She was in tears, but oh, he was branding her, wasn't he? Specs didn't just burn any girl.

"It's hard, kneeling on the wood floor, I know. My significant other has to kneel on a cinderblock. Imagine, Ms. Ponsonby, staying balanced, your knees being crushed into a cinderblock off the ground."

"Oh God."

"Language." The cigarette burned again on her back. Ms. Ponsonby wondered if he would burn her breasts. Just once, on her areola. She began getting wet again.

How did it happen? Ms. Ponsonby had dressed to the nines for Specs, expecting they'd do something exciting for the Saturday, and then she'd been forced to strip and kneel in the triangle. (She'd canceled plans for THAT?"

And worse, Specs had a loser friend, a pimple studded moron with grotesque yellow buck teeth.

"I thought we'd be alone, Ms. Ponsonby had asked, perturbed, but Specs had just pointed to the little taped square, after ordering her to strip in front of this repulsive stranger.

"This is my sister Calpurnia's boy. What do you think of her, Albemarle?"

"She's real purty. Kin I touch her?"

"Smile at Albie, Ms. Ponsonby. Tell Albie he can play with your tits for a bit before we go."

The next five minutes had been ghastly, though Ms. Ponsonby had been overcome with lust after realizing how humiliated she was. She'd had a previous Master who'd made her go down on his stinky Nana, but this was just so much worse.

But she'd tried to kneel motionlessly after Uncle Specs and his Zit-Boy departed.

THREE HOURS. It had been that long before Specs had returned (blessedly) alone. Well, no. She'd knelt for three hours, as he'd ordered, and then she'd been able to get up and read a magazine. So he was gone from nine to two, and then came back.

Ms. Ponsonby had thought her posture and kneeling was perfect.

Ah, but Specs ran through the tape from the camera and showed her where her foot had shifted.

And regrettably once where she committed the grave sin of scratching her nose, instead of keeping her hands behind her head, and jutting out her breasts.

"Also, you looked a little bored and uncomfortable." Specs said, but then he had laughed.

But shifting out of the square, just for a moment, nineteen minutes into the 180 minute tape was a grave sin, and demanded condign punishment.

"I'm going to give you a few more, but you don't have to say "Thank You" as you just don't seem up to it." Specs tsked, and returned to the whipping as Ms. Ponsonby grabbed the counter dispiritedly.

"You've got a pretty easy deal, Ms. Ponsonby." Specs said, as he leveled the cane hard, watching with satisfaction as it rose a stream of fire across the sensitive area just under her buttocks.

"How (sob) How so?" Ms. Ponsonby asked, trying desperately not to be a crybaby.

"Well, major clients of mine, the Treadway brothers are in a similar situation at their ridiculous McMansion across town."

WHACK!

Ms. Ponsonby congratulated herself silently on not screaming.

"R-really? Specs, tell me more."

"Gordon Treadway is kneeling in a little taped triangle smaller than yours, and he's sucking Gavin's dick, that's his brother. Gordon has to have perfect posture, not move a muscle except for his mouth."

WHACK! CRACK!

"If Gordon doesn't get Gavin to cum in his mouth, he will be severely punished-"

THWACK! SMACK!

Ms. Ponsonby burst into quiet tears, but her vagina was a volcano.

"And Gavin will be punished if he DOES cum in Gordon's mouth, he has to hold off, and stand still as Gordie sucks him, and Gavin is holding two thick books, the World Atlas is one, and the other's an old Bell telephone book is the other."

Ms. Ponsonby had no idea what a telephone book was, but oh well.

"That does sound, um, awful."

WHACK! CRACK! SMACK! TWACK!

Just hold in the tears, girl.

"Yes, if Gavin drops one of the books, that'll be an additional punishment. Then Vernelle McCombs, Debutante of 2016 of Buttermilk County, she's also suffering at her grotesque house."

"Wow."

"Yes, I pierced Vernie's nipples and threaded wire through them, and attached it to the walls of her living room like a clothesline, just a little higher than how she stands, so her tits are kept in the air, and she must stay on her tippie toes to keep from pain in her breasts."

That was horrible. But of course Ms. Ponsonby peculiarly envied Vernelle. And Gavin and Georgie, or whatever his name was. Crazy-ass incestuous faggots.

Finally Specs put down the cane, and Ms. Ponsonby let go of the counter and turned to him, her eyes streaming with tears.

"It was painful, was it?"

"I'm really more upset that you are disappointed in me for moving out of the triangle."

Specs smiled. "Well, you took your discipline well. You should appreciate that cane. It's rattan, but made out of tohiti . I lived for a year in Australia, where it is grown, and used for canes and furniture."

"Really? It's quite painful."

"Yes, it's rattan without the skin. I was staying with a big, macho sheep rancher, and although he could have broken me in half, every night he would strip and bend across his bed and I'd lay into him with whatever tohiti cane was around. Good times."

"Yes...wow."

"You seem ungrateful, Ms. Ponsonby." Specs said thoughtfully. "The other night when I took the hot bulb out of your bedroom lamp and rubbed it on your nipples, you had a tantrum."

Well, I was tied spread eagled over the bed. I couldn't move much. That bulb hurt. Not as much as when he tied me to my electric fence and turned it on and off."

"Yes, Specs." She paused. "But later, after you left, I heated the bulb up again and rubbed it against my clitoris. So I was grateful. I am sorry I was a whiner."

"You don't have an electric iron, do you?"

No thank God. "No, I get my stuff dry cleaned."

She knew Specs had a fertile imagination. A week ago, Specs had gotten one of his gay slaves, a window dresser, pose Ms. Ponsonby naked in the window.

She'd really had to hold still, as people had walked back and forth, commenting on how real the "mannequin" looked. Oh God.

If she'd moved the least little bit, Ms. Ponsonby could have been arrested as a flasher.

But she'd trembled that day, in her humiliation, and this was probably why Specs had her kneel in the little triangle today, to practice being immobile.

Ms. Ponsonby had seen "human furniture" at Specs's dungeon, and this was a goal of hers...so many goals.

"What else are we doing today?" Specs asked lazily. "Are you seeing your fiancée?"

Poor Theo. She knew she had to give up this BDSM nonsense before she and Theo married. He was born-again, so she'd never gotten undressed in front of him, and he couldn't see the array of welts and bruises.

"Wait, you did mention you had a former dominant who was critical of you because you can't suck cock without using your hands."

Ms. Ponsonby stared at the floor in shame. She'd been to more than a few BDSM munches and seen expert slave girls (and boys) who could take a cock in the mouth.

She'd once blown Theo, and afterwards he'd prayed with a rosary to overcome future temptation, which frankly was weirder than the shit Specs put her through.

Why couldn't she blow a Master without using her hands? She'd used hands with Theo, who was ashamed and thrilled at the same time. But dominant Masters were far less forgiving.

Could she learn to manipulate a penis between teeth and tongue and keep her hands behind her back, as other subs could?

"Have you had enough for today, Ms. Ponsonby?" Suddenly Specs was tender.

"No, not really."

"Because you could still go shopping with your friends, or see Theo."

"No, he's at a Promise Keepers meeting in Poinsettia."

"Okay, but I don't want to drive you too hard."

"Please, Specs. I want to masturbate after you leave, but I want to do it only if I've earned it."

Specs grinned. "Well, you owe me five bills for this morning."

God, that was a lot.

"How about I give you your hands-free cocksucking lesson on the um, house."

"Really?" He must really like her.

"Yup, or on the dungeon. I'm feeling a little tense. But you're going to have to do what I say, or there will be consequences, as always."

She nodded fervently. She would end up giving him a big tip after it was over, probably more than if she charged him. Why couldn't she be marrying Specs instead of Theo?

"Okay, get on your knees and I'll sit on the couch and you can take my cock out and blow me. But you can't use your hands from the time you hit the floor."

"Not even to pull your-?"

"Jesus, you are so willful, Ms. Ponsonby."

"No, of course Specs."

"D-do you want to cuff my hands behind my back, Specs?"

"No, you are going to learn how to be an adult. You're going to keep your hands on your thighs, and just lean in and slurp my penis."

"I don't know if-"

"Of course you can." Specs said easily, sinking down into the couch, and wiggling his legs playfully around Ms. Ponsonby's cropped red head.

"Really?"

"Don't have self-doubt. If I catch you using your hands, even moving them slightly, I will box your ears. It's not pleasant, you know. It makes your ears sting and y our head bounce back and forth."

God, it wasn't easy, dealing with Specs. Every day when Ms. Ponsonby came home from work, she had to take a picture of herself with her phone, sitting next to the digital clock on the table, to show when she got in.

If she was home one minute after five-forty-five, work meeting or not, Specs would come and give Ms. Ponsonby a painful "visit".

Sometimes he would not be able to make it, and he'd send his disgusting butch lesbian friend Ionides, and THAT creep really knew how to cane and bullwhip Ms. Ponsonby into true submission.

Sometimes Specs would forbid Ms. Ponsonby from using the bathroom, or make her write punishment sentences.

Poor Ms. Ponsonby, sitting in an ugly little desk-chair combination that had been purchased at auction when P.S. 38, the shittiest of Buttermilk Falls's public schools, had closed down.

Ms. Ponsonby had made the mistake of telling Specs about a teacher who wouldn't let the kids go to the bathroom till the end of Study Hall...

And she'd had such a hard time holding her urine in, and had wet herself more than once back in the bad old school days.

And of course, Specs had decided this was an experience Ms. Ponsonby should suffer regularly.

Specs was a Freudian if there ever was one!

Now, Ms. Ponsonby unzipped Specs's pants with her teeth, and Specs leaned forward slightly so she could use her soft lips to pull his hardening member out of his trousers without, of course, biting it.

Finally, she was gaining some confidence. Ms. Ponsonby began sucking his lengthening organ and she continued, harder and faster. Still, she was having trouble keeping her right hand on her thigh.

She really wanted to hold the base of the cock, she felt it would be helpful, but of course that wasn't the training exercise now, was it?

Encouraged by Specs's moans, Ms. Ponsonby softened her blowjob, making her lips wetter and tickling the underside of his growing snake.

"Wait a minute." Specs suddenly said."I have to pee."

Ms. Ponsonby began pulling her mouth off Specs's cock and her right hand came up unconsciously, and Specs used his fist to punch Ms. Ponsonby's left ear.

Oooh, the sting was incredible.

"I didn't tell you to pull off my cock and I certainly insisted you keep your hands down, didn't I?"

Ms. Ponsonby mumbled an affirmation around Specs's cock, as a tear rolled down her cheek. Fortunately, Specs's cock wasn't as big as some she'd sucked, Oh how her ear was killing her. Did he have to hit that hard?

"I'm just going to pee in your mouth, gently, Ms. Ponsonby. Don't let even one drop escape. I like your Persian rug , it would be a shame to ruin it. After you swallow all my pee, we can continue with the Beejay, okay?"

How lucky Ms. Ponsonby was to know a Master such as Specs!

One thing that interested her-Specs never seemed to mention the fact that she was African American, and he was white...

It must not have been relevant.