pride and.. punishment.....

In the weeks that followed the renewal of our acquaintance J.B. and I continued to grow into our respective roles. J.B. almost the cliche of the fiery red-head, learned to suppress her naturally rebellious spirit - at least within the confines of the 'quiet room'. I, on the other hand, unlearned some of the more 'polite' habits i had developed during my long marriage - a tendency to defer sexual decisions, and to hesitate before revealing my... darker impulses.

For both of us this proved to be a period of reawakening. Though it was not always a smooth transition from our marriage-altered-selves to our new, and we hoped, truer selves.

From my perspective, the journey from good and rather sensitive husband/lover to a genuinely Dominant sexual partner, was far from easy. More than once i had to fight (with myself, rather then J.B.) to provide the level of control demanded of my role as Dominant. I was rarely, to begin with, able to relax and take my own pleasure from our meetings. Punishments, in particular, led some level of self doubt at times. These doubts, of course, I could not share. I could not even hint of them to J.B.- or even once let down my guard.

J.B., for her part, (though almost certainly wracked with the same doubts) abandoned herself completely, and undertook to obey all 'commands' with a commendable enthusiasm.

The crop helped enormously. J.B., without a word, had presented me with an exquisitely fashioned riding crop. It was short, very flexible and had a stag horn and silvered handle and with an extremely soft and well oiled 'popper' at the business end. A 'popper', for those unfamiliar with the term, is broad(ish) leather loop which is which 'pops' loudly when it is brought down onto the horses rump.

Almost before i was able to weigh this gift in my hand, and still wordless J.B. had bared her own rump and - how it quivered in anticipation - arranged herself over my desk. All doubts retreated in that moment and, without even a breathes pause I brought the leather down onto her pale cheek. Then again, altering the weight very slightly, onto her opposite cheek. As a natural red-head J.B. was blessed with the very palest skin - almost translucent - so that it pinked almost to the brush of a hand. The effect of the crop was... spectacular. The delicate flesh almost immediately began to bruise - and that despite the care with which i wielded the stiff little stick.

Clearly aroused by this exercise J.B. uttered the words that were to prove pivotal in our relationship.

With her cunt swollen and her wetness almost dripping from her she said:

'Punish me...!'

Now i had almost brought the crop down again before i realised what she had said. One more fall of that crop, on more delightful 'pop' on her flesh and she would have gushed and writhed, and bite her lip and arch as the powerful orgasm i had seen build in her, found its release. One more blow. And we both knew it.

'Punish me!' she had said.

For a split second i understood this as a plea, but then, the crop still arching upwards i understood something else altogether. It was not a plea... it was an... instruction. Despite the words what she was really doing was ordering me to 'pleasure' - and what sort of punishment is that?

Without being aware of I had allowed her to control the situation. She was not to blame for this... she mistook her actions for Submissive. I.. for a short while, had, equally, mistaken mine for Dominant - despite the fact that she was the one who had put the crop into my hand and presented herself to be... struck.

Contrary to appearances, J.B. had not supplicated herself in order to be punished... but, rather... presented herself to be rewarded.

When the crop did not fall that last time J.B. repeated the words:

'Punish me!' and this time i distinctly recognised the tone as petulant.

'Punish you? Is that what you want my little cum princess?'

Hearing the tone of my voice J.B. stiffened and went very quiet. I took her then by the hair and roughly forced and, more roughly dragged her across the room where i had already prepared a hook and some several metres of cord. There i bound her. First her breasts, then, carefully, wound the cord around her upper thighs, and upper arms, and these wound again to loops around her ankles and wrists. When i was done i ran a line through the hook and hoist her upwards. the pivot knot performed its function and J.B. 'settled' into a position almost parallel to the floor - though she was hung several feet above it at this point. I refined the arrangement of her limbs so that her thighs, plump and pale, were stretched apart by the tension of the cord.

I stood then between her thighs and watched her cunt as it pulsed and dripped on my carefully polished floorboards.

'Punish you?' i said, scoring the horn handle of the crop along her spine... and between her spread buttocks. Pressing so that it almost hooked itself on the pulsating knot of her anus.... almost. I could hear from her breath that she anticipated more. The pop of the crop on her outer labia.. at the very least.
From the visible slackening of her anus i could see that she was hungry to have that horned handle pressed inside her... and all the thoughts i could almost hear spilling out of her head then... were all of pleasure.

'Punish you?' i repeated.

I took myself around to look her in the eye. Her head hung almost level with my groin. Slowly i unbuttoned myself and drew out my stiff cock. It was close enough to her face that she could smell it, feel the heat of its tip on her lips, but not so close that she could taste it.. or take into her mouth as i knew she loved to do. I tapped the shaft of it with the crop - two stiff unyielding rods meeting before her. So much promised... so much... denied.

Almost comically J.B. attempted to swing herself so that she could lick the tip of my cock. I stepped away. I brought the crop down... sharply onto my own thigh and did not wince.

J.B. looked so surprised that I would deny her.

"Please....' she said, softly.

'I want to cum,' she said. 'Make me cum... No.. sorry... Let me cum... please... i want to cum.... '

That, i thought to myself, is pleading.

I stepped forward.. took her hair in my fist and smeared her lips along the length of my cock, taking particular care to ensure she could smell my wetted tip. As did this i very lightly reminded her arse cheeks of the potential of the crop to arouse.

J.B. gasped, and the now consistent drip drip from her cunt.. quickened...

When i was sure that i had regained complete control i stepped back again.

"Punish you?'

She looked into my eyes and i could see that she knew what i would do next. She struggled with the knots that bound and looked quite panicked.

I put my cock back into my jeans, and buttoned myself back up. I put the crop on the floor where she could see it, and, without another word, i left the room and closed the door behind me.

I did not return until i was certain that she was understood the nature of her... punishment.

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