the earned punishment of Ms C

Guss66

Like a long red flame her tongue flickered until it almost tipped the fat wet end of my cock. I could feel the intense heat of her breath as it wrapped itself around the full length of my shaft. Half a step closer and she might have been able to take into the furnace of her mouth, but I kept my ground, and she was too well, and tightly, bound to have her fill of me. Sometimes her mouth made the shapes of words but it was only noises that emerged – whines and guttural whimpers. The tendons in her neck were pronounced as she strained again to breach the little gap between the searing point of her tongue and fat bulb of my cock. She seemed careless of the damage that she might do to her bound wrists, or that she might cut off all circulation to her hands. I, on the other hand, am never careless of such things.

Putting my hand on her throat I eased her backwards. Her neck was slippery with sweat and she would have slipped from my grasp if I hadn’t also taken a firm fistful of her hair. As we did not have access to the Quiet Room I had been forced improvise her anchor point. Fortunately the townhouse where Ms C now resided was blessed with large Victorian wrought iron radiators, one of which I had firmly tethered her to. Tugging hard on her hair I forced her back against the cold metal and slipped the knot free.

“If you want me to fuck your mouth you are going to have to be very still,” I warned.

“And very… patient,” I added, sliding my fingers into her cunt.

By the handful of her hair, and by her cunt, I lifted her up and I carried her the short distance to her bed. I put her down on her back and then flipped her over – drawing her hips upwards even as I ‘force’ her head down.

“If you want me to fuck you in the arse you are going to have to be very… very still.”

I wiped my cunt-creamed fingers across her mouth, and she licked hungrily at her lips.

“You do want me to fuck you in the arse don’t you?”

Her answer is a long growling moan that keeps extending. Her haunches shiver as she tries to part her buttocks as best she can without the aid of her hands. The delicious wound that is her cunt spreads and spills its creamy contents. When she tries to look over her shoulder to see what I may be preparing to do to her I bring my hand down hard on her arse cheeks. I don’t want her to see the cold steel anal hook in my hand. I only want her to feel the force of it as slides deep inside her. Not gently I lay the rounded end of it to that tight knot. There is some resistance but a couple of firm slaps on her inner thighs and her arse-hole is sufficiently relaxed to allow me to slip the hook inside her. Almost immediately she cums. What had been a steady flow of cunt-juice suddenly becomes a torrent. The gush of it so forceful is soaks the full length of my cock and splashes over my thighs.

“Did I give you permission to cum?” I whisper harshly into her ear.

“Noooooooooooo!!!” she says, as she cums again.

If only to keep her quiet I fill her mouth with my cock. Having a firm grip on the anal hook I pull her mouth further onto me. She makes the most satisfying of gagging noises.

Impaled now from both ends she was in what can only be described as a perfect state of ecstasy. It was no less than she deserved after all those months of waiting.

I had not seen Ms C in the flesh since she had left the village to tend to dying mother. When I told her that I was flying to Zagreb and would be in London for a few days she had begged me to visit her. While not particularly reluctant to accommodate her wishes I was a little surprised at the level of her enthusiasm. Her regular updates on her sexual adventures had suggested that she had no need for… additional recreational input. When I put this to her Ms C confessed that her adventures to date had all been entirely the product of her imagination.

“Your encounters in the train station were… fantasy…?”

I had always thought that there had been some element of… imaginative enhancement involved, but I had not considered the possibility that the encounters were entirely a work of the imagination. Apart from anything else she had described events in such a… detailed manner, and Ms C had never struck me as a particularly imaginative woman.

“Oh it was more than… imagination,” she insisted.

“I had always had… dreams. It was just that… those dreams… over time… became much more… vivid. I wasn’t lying about what happened in the train station. It happened. I would sleep and… it would… happen. And I’d wake and I’d be… aching… my cunt would be literally aching it was so… real. I’d even have the taste of cock and cum in my mouth, and it was so… pure… that I knew – if only for a moment or two – that it must have actually… happened. Then… eventually… I would remember that it could only have been your cock… and your cum…. It’s the only one that I’ve actually ever… tasted. So I would write to you… and… somehow… that would make it all even more real….”

“You’re fucking yourself with your fingers as you’re telling me this. Aren’t you?”

“No,” she whispered into the phone. “I’m fucking myself with your fingers….”

When she was done she had asked me again if I would visit. She said that she knew that it had been very naughty of her to ‘lie’ about her adventures, but that she was more than willing to endure any ‘punishment’ I thought fit to… administer.

Well… how could I turn down such an offer?

A few days later and Ms C - on her knees - had proved to be most penitent indeed. The cheeks of her arse were raw with stripes, and her breasts were almost bruised from their recent spanking. I had not quite forgiven her at that point however and forced her to lick up the cum she had careless spilled from her mouth. When she was on all fours I roughly spread her cheeks and withdrew the anal hook. Before she could sigh I put the tip of my cock (still dripping) into her arse.

“Don’t cum,” I warned. “Don’t you dare or you’ll never feel the full length of it inside you.”

I pressed a little way deeper.

“Can I cum now,” she almost begged.

“Not yet…”

“Oh… fuck…!” she whimpered, pressing herself onto me.

Only when she had licked up every last drop, and not before, did I give her permission to cum. Whether she considered this adequate punishment for her lies I do not know. She did not say then… or later. I, on the other hand felt that she deserved much more.

Even when she pleaded that she had had enough and my cum was almost bubbling out of her arse I told her that we were far from done. It was still several hours before my flight to Zagreb and I could already feel the hardness returning to my shaft.

“Enough!” she said, though I could see the longing in her eyes for more… much more.

• Add Comment