Paying for My Naughtiness

Author's Note: I have learned many lessons while writing this story; most importantly, that a petite female can wield enormous power and control over a strong male, even if he has an enormous ego.

I must acknowledge my editor, Carole, who assisted with the story. While doing this, she helped me to understand a woman's position in the world.

She also reminded me about good manners.

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I am male, I am proud, and I have power. The erect penis points up and out, clearly showing my power. We, the guys, are the ones who fuck -- the females are getting fucked. It is the same among humans as it is among animals. The power is connected to a big dose of testosterone.

I am proud of my penis. Like in the animal world, everyone wants to show off their best assets. In a civilized world, showing off that part of the body in public is unacceptable, so we are forced to find other symbols to show off our power, wealth, and success. Fast cars, big muscles, attractive smile -- a hint of that big, strong cock that we can use to fuck women. And it makes us attractive to the soft, feminine part of the population who are there to receive what we want to give them.

I love to fuck from behind -- animal style. Her wet pink opening is so invitingly on display as she bends in submission, ready to take my big, erect penis. She waits in lust as her body lubricates for the penis to penetrate. And then, finally, she is filled to the maximum giving her pleasure, as my penis enters her and my heavy balls bang into her buttocks.

As I powerfully push into her, I feel in control, knowing that I am causing her to whimper with lust and shock as she opens wide for me.

Life is good for us males; we rule the world, and the females are there to praise our proud erect penises for submitting to the leading sex; it is the same among humans as it is among animals.

Life is good.

---

Or it was good until I met and befriended Grace. My interest in erotic literature occasionally creates new female friendships. Like most males, my nature can threaten these friendships, as I cannot always behave or act politely.

So, I met this kind and warm female through an erotic literature site where we shared an interest in both reading and writing. She was an excellent writer and a valuable reviewer of my writing. We spent long hours discussing the intricacies of salacious written pornography. She was very open as we talked and often told me about some of her fantasies. It wasn't unusual for her to speak about her erect nipples and wet panties as we thrashed out our stories.

Her comments often triggered my male nature and enormous ego, causing me to get high on myself. I couldn't help but think about how I wanted to play with her erect nipples and enjoy the wetness in her crotch. All that would have been fine had I kept those thoughts to myself. Instead, I shared my fantasies about her body with her. I quickly learned that while it was okay for her to talk about her tits and cunt, it was inappropriate for me to do so. My words were immature and impolite, and I flushed with embarrassment as I saw her reaction. I had to ask myself, what happened to my manners?

Grace was fuming with rage over my stupid and naughty comments -- and then she was quiet for a few days. I was ashamed about being carried away, assuming that she had accepted me talking dirty to her and shaming her female body in ways she had not invited me to -- which was clearly outside her limits. My male nature took over, and I responded with immaturity, thinking she was waiting for me to talk dirty to her. I am human, not an animal; I am usually well-behaved and polite, so I knew it was wrong. This is not the way I should talk to a woman.

On top of being sad and ashamed of my lack of manners, I was also sad, fearing I had lost a friend due to my stupidity. I could not blame Grace if I had never heard from her again.

I sent several emails praying that she would not neglect me, telling her I knew I had stepped over the line, and regretted my stupid comments. I even suggested that I would accept some punishment to make up for my misdeeds.

A few hours later, a tone indicated an incoming mail. I was happy to see that it was from Grace. My happy mood quickly changed, and my blood froze. Fear and desperation took over when I saw the level of punishment she had decided upon.

In the email, she outlined a punishment for my misbehavior. As she could not be there with me, I was to give myself twenty strokes with a paddle and then spend thirty minutes in the corner with my pants around my ankles. In addition, I was required to author an essay with a detailed description of my feelings, pain, and humiliation during my punishment

And then, almost as an afterthought, she added that I was not allowed to masturbate or have any sort of orgasm until the essay had been approved.

I felt so humiliated and knew that if this friendship was important to me, I would have to endure the punishment. The paddling and corner time was easy but painful and boring. I had to hit myself hard, as was clearly stated, and only count the painful strokes. After my spanking, I waddled to the corner with my pants around my ankles and a red and sore butt. Luckily, the neighbors were not around as I passed the window to the corner. My butt and face were red from being spanked and humiliated. My cock was not erect and powerful, but tiny and unprepared for any penetration and erotic action. I could only imagine what would have happened if the neighbors had seen me. Stripped, humiliated with a freshly spanked butt -- not very masculine and leaving no trace of the alpha male.

But it was the second part of the punishment that was the most painful. Reaching orgasm whether through sex or masturbation signified my manhood. For me, who wants to appear masculine with a wannabe alpha male style, it was rough to be taken down with this punishment. And the fact that the order came from the petite Grace made it that much worse. Taking away my ability to orgasm was like ripping the power from an alpha male. I was shut down. And my landing was hard. The retribution told me that I am not that much of a gift to all females. Everyone was not waiting to be penetrated by my erect penis. It only showed my lack of manners, lack of maturity, and lack of respect. And that was the lesson I had to learn.

To make matters worse, I did not have a clue about the story I was assigned to write. How should I start? And how could I switch my mind from thinking and writing about my male power to one where I admitted that I was the one being controlled?

Then it dawned on me how clever the last part of my punishment was, how controlling it was, and how clever it was in stating my position. I am being controlled, dominated, and brought down to reality by the female I humiliated with my dirty talk. The denial of orgasm until she has approved the story was painful in itself.

I knew I needed to endure this punishment and immediately, my cock and balls were aching for attention. The slightest touch made it more difficult to avoid being tempted to continue and get the release that had just been taken away.

I tried to busy myself with other activities so I would not be constantly reminded about my punishment and misery. I did okay during the day but by evening, my balls again began to ache, and soon my penis was erect again, making it uncomfortable to stay in my jeans. It was so tempting to play with myself, jerk off quickly, and pretend nothing had happened. But I knew that Grace would ask, and I knew I would have to tell her the truth, which would have caused her to add to my punishment.

So, I tried to behave, but I sent emails whining about the level of my punishment and how strict she was being. And in doing that, I found myself again talking about her nipples, further shaming her. Of course, this earned me an additional punishment leaving me once again with a sore, red butt from thirty hard strokes on each side of my bottom.

Why did I have to brag about my masculinity? Why did I have to be big, strong, and erect? And why did I believe Grace was just waiting for me to penetrate her?

She could talk about how her wet, pink opening was ready and how it gave her pleasure to finger herself. She could tell me how she spread the wetness to her clit, slowly building the sensation. On the other hand, I was not allowed to talk about her body this way. By keeping this double standard, she was humiliating me with her power and independence, showing me that my male picture of society was all wrong. She had what she needed to pleasure herself. She didn't need to be saved by selfish males thinking they were a gift to all females.

Grace radiated power, and it turned me on that I was being controlled, humiliated, and punished. I felt I could smell her arousal and hear the slopping sounds of her wetness as she played with herself. Not needing a male, not needing me. What if this becomes a lifelong celibacy? To be in chastity for life? And she could simply do that with a command,

I knew that I could touch myself, but I didn't, as I knew who was in charge. It would have been easier if she had forced me into a male chastity belt, locking me up. Then I would not have had the chance to play or masturbate, and she would have been physically in charge. Instead, it felt very dominating to be controlled only by her command. It put extreme demands on my self-control. And if my male nature was given any nutrition, it destroyed my ambition to follow the rules concerning chastity and denial of orgasm.

In the following days, Grace did nothing to restrict herself. She told me in detail how she pleased herself, how the power made her hot, and how she loved to hear about my aching penis and blue balls. Even though she was physically much smaller than me, she was still the one in charge. I wanted, no, I needed relief, I prayed, I complained, but nothing had an impact on her.

My position as the bottom in this relationship was crystal clear. I hated it, and it was against my male nature. It was not supposed to be like this in my view of the hierarchy of nature. My penis was constantly erect, ready to shoot a big load into a waiting female. But I was not even allowed to touch it.

Finally, Grace gave me amnesty and allowed me to talk about her body. I responded by telling her that I could imagine how wet she was, that I could imagine her erect nipples as her loose top gave all the naughty males the ability to see her secrets. I admitted my fantasy of looking up her skirt and spotting the wet patch in her panties. I believed that my bad male manners, my male nature, and my big erect penis were turning her on, making her wet, and making her ashamed because her female nature is just as easy to read as my male nature.

That inviting pink slit, the soft female shape, is really where the power was. My alpha male nature, my big erect penis, and my big muscles had no power. I was desperate for release, to let my aching balls shoot their load deep into that inviting pink slit. I was willing to do almost anything to get to it, to force myself into her from behind, to pretend that my physical superiority gave me power, but deep down, we both knew that the power was in her. She controlled, disciplined, and dominated me.

Grace was well aware that she had broken my alpha male ego. She knew she had won, that she was in charge, and that I would follow her orders. A small female was controlling the big muscular guy, and I was desperate to suck and kiss her nipples. I was desperate for her to touch my skin, trace my muscles, compliment my strength, and make me feel that my power was valuable.

This was a mental battle, and there was one winner. I might not be the loser, but Grace was the winner. Somehow, we were both winners because her female superiority and dominance were best for both of us. I am a simple male, and as long as I could get a release by shooting my load into her openings, I was happy, I was content, and I was willing to let her be in control. She had tamed me and was ready to move our relationship one step further.

---

Grace has invited me to visit during the Easter break and is ready to start training me to be the obedient powerful male at her side. I am aware that she will use her power and female assets to control me. I want to believe that she is longing for my big erection to fill her. But I know that she is more clever than I am. Grace is aware that controlling my orgasms denies me the ability to empty my load deep within her, and that is where the real power is. She also knows that the prospect of getting access to her slit is filling me with lust, and I would be willing to do a lot to achieve that. She can still punish me if she feels it is needed. She can command me to do whatever she says, and she knows that as a male, I am a slave to love and a slave to the female body.

Her invitation makes me crazy with lust. I can't wait to see her. I want to bend her over and force myself into her inviting opening. My male ego is growing as time gets closer. In my fantasy, I am thinking about my power and lust, how I will make my way and reach climax deep inside her.

But Grace tells me that she has other plans for me. She tells me that she will welcome me at the door wearing skin-tight jeans and a t-shirt that does not hide the fact that her nipples are erect and that she is as aroused as I am. But she will stop me with a smack on my cheek if I am not behaving, reminding me of the line of command and who is in control. My cheek or my ass may burn, and my face will be red with shame. Once again, my physical male power will be trumped by female dominance and smartness.

She has already forwarded me her house rules.

1. She is in control in all areas

2. Any violation of the rules will be punished

3. All sexual activity should primarily be focused on female pleasure

4. My male strength and power should be spent on house chores

5. Only if all my duties are performed to perfection will I be rewarded with an orgasm

6. Unauthorized orgasm will be punished

7. Punishment may include spankings, whippings, chastity, chains, or a punishment cage

As I read these rules, my male ego is again ripped away, and I am forced to submit to this wonderful, tiny, smart female. The prospect of getting access to her wet slit, playing with the female assets, to empty my load deep inside her is playing with my brain. I let my erect penis make the decisions and sign the house rules as I breathe heavily with lust.

I have learned my lesson.