Pat and I have been married for a long time and she has found out that our relationship is the best, on all levels, when she is my slave. Well, I submitted some nude pix of my slave to  and showed them to Pat when they were posted, and showed her the feedback, which was great. She got really mad at me for posting the pix. The feedback was great but that didn’t matter. I didn’t see the big deal, since they were taken on a nude beach in the Caribbean, and I can do what ever I want with my slave. She agreed but she was still furious. To try to smooth things over, I promised to do what ever she wanted to make it up to her. Pat demanded I be her slave for 5 days, one day for each of the 5 pix I posted. She got to pick what days. 5 days seemed like a lot to me but I had already agreed to whatever she wanted. She also made me promise that whatever happened, I would not hold it against her when she became my slave again.
Pat said this is day one and immediately took me into the bedroom and pulled off her pants. She got on all fours on the bed, stuck her ass in the air, and said lick everything. I spent the next 30 minutes licking her pussy and ass until she decided it was time to let herself cum. I’ve licked her ass before and Pat knows I don’t like doing it, but she loves it. The last time was about six months ago after going out to dinner. We had an agreement that I would be her slave if I could pick what she would wear. I made her wear a very sheer stretch knit top. She doesn’t like wearing it without a vest because you can see the brown of her nipples thru it. I made her wear it anyway and paid the price when we got home. Well, after Pat had cum she told me to drop my pants and masturbate myself. She watched me and after I came she said we were done for now.
The next Saturday was the 2nd day Pat had me as her slave. I had an idea she had something planned but I didn’t know what. Our teenage son was going out-of-town for the day with a school group. I drove him to his school for the trip about 8:00 in the morning. When I got back I had to strip and do all of Pat’s housework. By early afternoon I was getting tired of running around naked doing vacuuming and other housework. I was pretty much done and Pat told me to take a shower and shave. She was hanging up the phone and smiling when I came out of the bath and said she had a surprise for me. I had to get our bondage stuff out and she tied my arms and legs to the bed posts. She didn’t tie me real tight but I couldn’t reach quite far enough to untie myself. Pat said she was going out for a couple of hours and that company might come over. I tried to ask her who but I just heard the door close and her car start-up and go down the driveway.
About 20 minutes later I heard a car come up the drive and I could tell from the sound it wasn’t Pat’s car. Someone came in the front door. I heard footsteps approach the bedroom and saw that it was Pat’s friend Cathy.
Cathy is cute but a little bit of a bitch. She went thru a nasty divorce a few years ago. Her husband was a real asshole and treated her like shit. After finding out he was cheating on her she divorced him. She hasn’t gotten over it and has a lousy attitude towards guys. Cathy is fairly good-looking but not great. She is about 5’6′ tall and fit with short bushy brown hair and small tits. Cathy and Pat are workout partners at the gym to and they talk about everything. Cathy knows that Pat is my slave sometimes and that I make Pat do things she doesn’t want to. I will have Pat wear short skirts without panties, go braless with a see thru blouse, or suck my cock sitting in the car in a parking lot. Cathy hates the idea of a man being in charge and I think she resents me because Pat is willing to do it. Sometimes I make Pat wear a really revealing top to the gym just to piss off Cathy.
Well, here I am, completely naked and tied to the bed when Cathy comes in the room. She tells me that Pat is at her house babysitting her two kids. I asked what she was doing here and she told me she was doing Pat a favor. I asked what the favor was and she said it was doing whatever she wanted to.
She came over and loosened the knot where one arm was tied to a bed post. I thought she was going to untie me and was satisfied with the embarrassment I was feeling at her seeing me tied up naked. Instead she pulled it tight and tied it off again. Then she did the same to my other arm and both legs. I was stretched tight to all four bedpost and completely helpless. She said she liked seeing me like that.
I was a little scared but couldn’t keep from getting turned on also. I started getting a hard on and Cathy pulled off her sweat pants. She had a long shirt on and it covered her so that I couldn’t see anything. At this point I wanted to see her pussy and little tits. The first thing she did was climb up and sit on my face. She told me to eat her pussy and I told her to kiss my ass. She slid down and sat on my chest. Then the bitch slapped me as hard as she could on the face and while I was still gasping she reached back, grabbed my balls, and started to squeeze them. I thought I was going to puke. Cathy said that I better understand who was in charge and do what I was told. I got the message real quick and nodded my head. She climbed back on my face and my tongue went right into her pussy. She sat there holding the headboard and pumping my face until her pussy hair was burning my cheeks. She had gotten wet real fast and she was all over my face. When Cathy finally stopped I didn’t think she had cum but I asked her anyway. I was hoping she had and that she would leave. She said she would cum when she was ready and that it would not be for a while yet. Cathy told me she knew the things I didn’t like to do and she would not be finished until I had done them all and more.
Cathy slid down, put my cock in her pussy and began to fuck me. She pulled off her shirt and leaned over and had me suck her tiny nipples while we fucked. Her tits and nipples were small but they got very hard. When I started to lose control she started smiling. I was hoping she was going to cum. I shot my cum in her and she stopped and just sat there. Then she said she was going to do something she wished she could do to her ex-husband.
Her husband used to grab her by the hair and jerk off into her face and she hated it. If she complained he smacked her around. Cathy said she always wanted to see a man with his own cum all over his face. With her pussy dripping with my cum she turned around into a 69 position and sat back on my face. She told me to lick her pussy and her ass. She kept sliding up and down so I had to lick everything. I tried to lick her clit as much as possible to try to make her cum. Every time I would start to get her close she would move so that all I could lick was her asshole. I tried not licking her ass and the bitch grabbed my balls again just to give me a message. Her pussy, ass, and my face were one big wet mess when she finally let herself cum. Then she was all over my face with a tremendous orgasm. I was gasping for air when she finally got off my face. Then she lined her pucker hole up with my mouth and said lick me slowly. She lay there in her afterglow with me slowly licking her asshole for the next five minutes then got up without saying a thing and went into the bathroom and took a shower. She came out and got dressed. By this time I had been tied up for over 2 hours and had to pee really bad. I asked her to untie me so that I could go pee. She said no. I said she could tie me up again when I finished. She said no. I begged her and asked what she wanted to untie me. She laughed and said she would untie me if I would be Pat’s slave for 2 more days. I told her no way. She sat down in a bedroom chair and said she was going to sit there until I pee on myself or changed my mind. She picked up a magazine and started reading. After about 5 minutes I agreed but Cathy said that now it would cost me 5 days. All I could do was agree. When I came out of the bathroom Cathy smiled and told me that Pat had told her to untie me before she left but that she would tell Pat what I had agreed to. I almost called her a bitch but thought better of it.
Cathy left and I got washed up and dressed. A little while later Pat got home. She walked in the door, smiled and thanked me for the 5 extra days. Pat said that Cathy thought I was a damn good slave and was looking forward to helping with my punishment

The Slave by Ed
]]> http://levenageorge.wordpress.com/2012/02/23/five-days-of-revenge-slavery-fm/feed/ 0 levenageorge Over The Knee http://levenageorge.wordpress.com/2012/02/22/anticipation-photo-by-taren-2/ http://levenageorge.wordpress.com/2012/02/22/anticipation-photo-by-taren-2/#comments Wed, 22 Feb 2012 12:17:04 +0000 enilegna http://levenageorge.wordpress.com/?p=937 ]]> Photo by Taren, if you are interested please contact levenageorge@gmail.com, and I will get you more info on how to obtain this artist infomation. Happy reading, and eye googling the art here at Levena George!

The blond-haired girl emerged from the building that housed the headmaster’s office. She headed across the quadrangle, the central square around which most of the school buildings were located. She was walking slowly with a peculiar stiff-legged gait. Her fists were tightly clenched and her arms were held tensely by her side. Her breathing was heavy and irregular. Closer inspection would have revealed a reddened face and puffy, red-rimmed eyes, the result of recent tears. She appeared to be struggling to control herself. It was clear that she had just been through a traumatic incident.

Conscious that she was in danger of becoming the centre of attention in the busy thoroughfare she kept her head down and increased her pace. A few of her fellow 6th formers were minded to ask what the matter was but were discouraged by her obvious disinclination to stop and talk. And a few seconds later she disappeared into the girls’ dormitory block and the opportunity was lost.

The boy in the upstairs store-room of the biology block on the other side of the school was also suffering from heavy and irregular breathing. In his case, however, the reason was obvious. For he could have been observed adjusting his underclothing,  his zip and wiping his hands on a piece of tissue paper.

His state and hers were in fact the consequence of one and the same event – an interesting example of the saying “one man’s meat is another’s poison”. She may have been unaware of him, but he knew precisely what was troubling her. He had seen it all.

The window of the storeroom was the only place on the school premises which gave a clear line of sight into the headmaster’s study. He had realised this some months ago when he had been helping prepare some equipment for a biology field trip. He had idly picked up a pair of powerful binoculars and, training them on the head’s window, had been amazed at how clearly he could see inside despite the not inconsiderable separation of the buildings.

He had thought little more of it at the time, but events earlier in the day in question had woken him up to the possibilities. The girl, also an 18 year old, was from his form. She had happened to be chatting to him when the message had arrived that the headmaster wanted to see her that evening. When asked she said it was nothing terribly serious, probably just something to do with her having been late back into school the previous night. And there the subject was dropped.

It was during the course of the afternoon that he realised that actually this was likely to be a matter that the headmaster would take very seriously indeed. Ensuring pupils’ safety was known to be one of his primary concerns Only the previous week he had been overheard to say that the 10 o’clock curfew needed to be enforced more rigidly.

The more he thought about it the more he felt that the girl, despite her dismissive attitude, could be in deep water. And slowly the idea built up in him that this could be one of those rare occasions when the headmaster would feel that only the school’s ultimate deterrent would be appropriate. Despite himself he could feel his excitement rise. It was only an outside chance that she would be caned – he was unaware that a girl ever had been – but what a provocative thought!

He knew that the headmaster was reluctant to use the cane but, having decided to do so, made very sure that a salutary lesson was delivered and laid every stroke on with the full force of his arm. The boy was now starting to feel guilty at willing a caning to happen – he had no wish for the girl to suffer as he knew she would. But he could not help himself. For there was something else too. What really excited him was the school’s policy that, in order to enhance the effect of the cane, only that protection necessary for decency was permitted. He forced his mind to work step by step through the consequences of this policy. The cane was applied directly to boys’ underpants. The school made a point of treating girls exactly like boys. Therefore a girl who was to be caned would be made to present herself with knickers exposed. The reasoning was inexorable.

His excitement heightened as he imagined this particular girl in that predicament. For she was a very prim and proper young lady. With many of the other girls it was not unusual when sitting opposite them to see a flash of white underneath their dresses perhaps when they crossed or uncrossed their legs. Or to see a glimpse of brassiere when they bent forward. But not her. She always took great care to reveal nothing to the prying eye.

Would she really be caned? Who could say. But if she were to be, oh to be a witness! It was at this point that he remembered the biology store-room………………

He saw the girl enter the room, advance a few steps forward towards the window and then turn side on. He could not see it but he could tell she was now standing in front of the headmaster’s desk. Presumably the head himself was seated the other side of it. He focused the binoculars on her face. Clearly, a conversation was going on but what was being said was he of course could not make out. He could, however, see that she was becoming increasingly agitated. Then, a few seconds later, her eyes were no longer straight ahead but appeared to be following someone’s movements. Presumably the head had risen from his seat. The agitation then become more pronounced. She was shaking her head violently from side to side and he thought he could lip read the words “please, no!”

Perhaps 10 seconds passed and then she slowly started to take off her jacket. The boy’s heart literally skipped a beat and he began to harden in anticipation. Why else would she do this if not to prepare for being caned? And as if on cue the headmaster now came into view brandishing in front of him that very implement. Would he treat her exactly like a boy? And if he did how much of this would he be able to see?

Her jacket was now off and she was left wearing the blue dress that formed one of the options for school summer wear. Time stood still. His heart started to sink. If she simply bent over facing the way she was, then he was not going to get much of a view.

But what was happening? She was not bending over. Instead her hands had disappeared behind her back and ………… Of course, he should have known! The head was a great stickler for neatness. Boys always had to remove, not merely lower, their trousers. She, therefore, was being required to take her dress completely off!! He watched transfixed. She undid the zip and reluctantly slid her arms out of the sleeves. A white brassiere came into view as she did so. At first glance it appeared to be of the half cup design. Certainly a swell of upper breasts was plainly visible. She then quickly lowered the dress to the floor, stepped out of it and quickly held it up in front of her.

He was by now totally rigid with excitement and put down the binoculars while he eased his organ out. When he focused on the room again, he saw that she had turned, had walked to the back of the room and was hanging the dress on a coat stand. He now had his first sight of her knickers. They were just ordinary white briefs with a high cut design. She was a slim girl with almost boyish buttocks that were only perhaps half covered because of the V-shape of the knickers. They would offer little protection. The tip of the cane would almost certainly be striking bare flesh.

On the headmaster’s instructions she walked back to her original spot, and, facing the window, she leaned forward and clasped her ankles. What he now saw through the binocular lens was immensely provocative. She was bent over facing towards him. Her head was up so that he could clearly see the expression on her face. And, given that his vantage point was one story higher than the head’s office, he had a clear view of her bare back with just the thin strap of the bra crossing it and above that the waistband of the knickers. The strain of bending over had caused them to ride down slightly so that he had just a tantalising glimpse of the area where the buttocks start to form.

The headmaster walked back to the far side of the room, perhaps 10 feet behind her. My God, he’s going to give her the full treatment, went through his mind. And so it proved to be. The head skipped rhythmically forward, the cane was raised and came slicing down. The boy could not hear the impact but there was no doubting its effect. Her face contorted, her hand jerked away from her ankles and she half stood up gasping and shoulders heaving. After perhaps 20 seconds she bent over again with a fearful backward glance towards the headmaster.

This scene was repeated twice more, but on the fourth stroke her control, such as it was, broke. She leaped up and danced around the room, breasts furiously bouncing inside her bra, and hands clasped to her backside. Eventually she moved to resume her position, but the head must have said something for she stood up and turned to face him.

Now her back was towards the boy, and for the first time he was able to see the effect that the cane had. Four welts stood out on her white skin either side of her knickers, a dull red on the left hand side but almost scarlet to the right, the side where the end of the cane had struck. The boy was pleased of the respite while the headmaster lectured her. It was an opportunity to get back his own control and prepare himself to watch the next, presumably final instalment of the caning.

Eventually, she bent over again, and the headmaster resumed his position too. The fifth stroke was delivered, her head jerked upwards and her face screwed up. For a second she managed to remain in position, but then her hands flew back again and she jumped up. Another 10 seconds passed and again she turned to face the headmaster who appeared to be lecturing her. She probably was not even aware of what her hands were doing, but they were now in fact inside her knickers, directly massaging the affected areas. As a consequence the waistband had further eased itself downwards so that most of her buttocks were visible in the centre of the binocular’s field of vision.

Whatever might have happened after that – presumably she received a sixth and final stroke – the boy could not say. For at this point he found himself having to give full attention to what was happening to himself. When he was next able to revert his attention to the study, he saw the headmaster in the throes of leaving the room, leaving her to recover herself as best she could. One more tantalising view of her in her underwear and then the dress was being put back on again. Eventually she left the room too.

And so it was perhaps half a minute later that he saw through the binoculars the sight that had momentarily caught the attention of others in the quadrangle. A blond-haired girl emerging from the building that housed the headmaster’s office and walking slowly with a peculiar stiff-legged gait

Jen was due to leave school in two months time. She did not like school and as a sixth former did not make life easy for her teachers. The school rules did not allow serious punishment to sixth formers so Jen thought she could get away with anything.

Jen was at home one evening and was playing music with two of her girl friends from school in her bedroom.. Jen had just got out of the shower and was dressed in her very smart-looking bathrobe and nothing else.. Jens mum shouted up to her daughter to tell her she had a visitor. Jen came down grumbling to be met by her headmistress holding a punishment cane. Jen asked what this was all about.

Her mother said that the school had phoned home to complain about Jen’s behaviour at school and had asked her mum to help. The head and Jens mum agreed that Jen needed discipline. The head was not happy to give her detention since she simply hadn’t turned up when this was given before. Lines had the same impact. Jen a couple of weeks before had been ordered by a teacher to write out 100 times ” I must behave better at school and stop disrupting class”. Jen had not done these lines.

The next statement by her mum shocked Jen. Her mum had asked the head whether it was possible for Jen to be given the cane. The head said the school rules did not permit this. However her mum asked if Jen could be caned out of school by the head. The head checked the rules and there was nothing that would stop this if the parents agreed. So her mum said to Jen that the head had called to cane Jen. Jen thought this was a joke and started to go back up stairs, Her mother shouted that Jen was to come back to her this minute. Jen started to worry since she had not heard her mum raise her voice like this for a long time. The only person Jen was scared of was her mum when she shouted like this. In the past when in this mood her mum always spanked Jen walked to her mum and tried the humble approach. She said she would not misbehave at school and would do the lines. Her mother shouted that it was too late for this and a caning was the only action possible. Jen then tried the pleading approach. She pleaded not to be caned but again her mum said that she was to come to her and remove her bathrobe. Jen protested saying that she had nothing on under this robe but her mum said she knew this but that she was to be caned across her bare bottom. Jen desperation was made worse by the fact that her two friends hearing her mum shout had come out of the bedroom to see what was going on. The mum said to Jen’s two friends that they should come down the stairs since they could watch Jen being caned. The girls didn’t know what else to do so did as her mum had suggested. Jen was still pleading but to no avail.

Her mum started to get really upset and Jen knew now that she was not going to be able to avoid this very embarrassing caning. Jen asked if her friends could be told to go home but her mum shouted no ! Jen moved close to her mum and made one last attempt to save herself but her mum said ‘strip now’. Jen resigned herself to her fate and removed her bathrobe putting her hands across certain parts of her body.. Even this was stopped when her mum ordered her to place her hands on her head. Jen did as told. Her mum ordered her to apologise to the head for her bad behaviour and to ask for the head to give her ‘six of the best’ with the cane across her bare bottom. Jen did as told. The head said that she would be pleased to cane her and would use much force. Jen waited for the instruction to bend over and touch her toes and her mum soon ordered this. Jen was told to turn her back to her friends who by now were sat down fascinated by what was happening to their previously very tough friend. Jen did as told and bent over to touch her toes. Her bum was now facing her friends and she realised that they were to get a good view of the caning that was about to happen. Her mum gave one more instruction which was not to move between cane strokes not even to rub her bum. If she moved in any way the cane stroke would be given again. Jen nodded that she understood

The head moved behind Jen and swished the cane through the air. Jen closed her eyes tight shut. Seconds late there was a ‘swish’ noise followed by a loud ‘thwack’ followed by a loud yell from Jen. The first cane stroke had landed hard on Jens bottom. Jen wanted to run away but the fear of her mum made her remain in position. The second stroke then landed with the same noise levels only with a louder yell from Jen. She was starting to breathe very deeply. The third stroke landed. The pain was immense. Jen realised that this stroke had landed across where a previous cane stroke had landed. Jen started to cry and pleaded for no more cane strokes. Her mum told her to stop being a baby. The fourth and fifth strokes landed quite quickly and Jen couldn’t help herself and grabbed her angry bum with her hands and rubbed hard. Her mum told Jen that she was silly and would now get that cane stroke again. Jen now realised that nothing would stop this massive caning and she did her best to remain still.

Stroke five was delivered again The head now knowing that she had Jen exactly how she wanted her asked if she could deliver stroke six in a different way. She moved back six paces and asked her mum if she could run at Jen and cane her on the move. He mum said lets ask Jen if she wants the head to run at her for the last stroke. Jen knew she had no choice and mumbled that she would like the head to run at her and cane her this way,. Her mum playing the embarrassment idea well said that no one could hear Jen and would she speak louder. Jen spoke loudly and asked the head to run at her and cane her with all her might. The head said we always try to please our girls so it will be a pleasure. The head ran at Jen and brought the cane down with massive force across Jens bottom. Jen yelled loudly and felt that her skin must be broken. Jen started to get up but her mum aid ‘have you been told that you can get up ?’. Jen didn’t answer but got back down again and touched her toes. She realised what was going to happen now – she was going to be given yet another extra stroke of the cane. Her mum told the head to give one more stroke and the head delightfully did as told. Her mum then told Jen she could stand up and was to thank the head for this caning which she did deserve. Jen did as ordered.

Jen was told she could go to her room and that her friends were to go home. Jen checked her bum but the skin was not broken. Jen thought the head must have great skill at caning people. Jen had one more embarrassment to face when she returned to school. That was that she was to come before the daily morning assembly of all the girls and announce that she had been caned by the head at Jens home the night before. She did as told and thanked the head for trying to sort out her bad behaviour by giving her eight strokes of the cane on her bare bottom.. Many of the girls giggled since many of them felt that Jen was a bully anyway and got what she deserved.

“Spread those knees further apart.”

I try, but lose my balance and my bottom goes down.

SMACK!

For now, he has the ping-pong paddle. There is a selection of implements sitting on my dresser for future use.

“I said, spread those knees”

Struggling with my restraints, I managed to collect my balance, and spread my knees as far apart as I could.

“Ass up, head facing straight.”

I poke my butt in the air.

I am wide open in this position.

“Do NOT move.”

It’s difficult, I am becoming very wet, and I want him to touch me.

He’s walking around the bed, watching, staring, absorbing my helplessness.

I feel the edge of the ping-pong paddle up against my bottomhole. He’s rubbing it up and down, sometimes going up my spine, sometimes over my asscheeks. I am about to explode. I’m not allowed to move.

He begins to walk around the bed again. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the tattoos on his arm. I close my eyes and wonder how delicious the pain must have been.

“What are you looking at?”

Fuck.

“You may speak.”

“Nothing, Master.”

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

One on my bottom, one on the back of my thigh, and one on my inner thigh. Oh God. Please touch me.

“Lie to me again and I’ll use the hairbrush.”

The hairbrush is one of those heavy wooden types. I hate the hairbrush. I love it. No, I hate it.

He is behind me, and I can sense him standing there, but I can’t see him, and I’m not allowed to look at him.

He begins to finger my pussy. Ooooo…I’m not allowed to move. I want to thrust back and make his fingers go deeper.

“What’s the matter, slut?”

I’m not allowed to speak.

He removes his fingers, and begins to slide them up and down my inner thighs.

SMACK!

My right asscheek is burning.

SMACK!

He’s using the ping-pong paddle on me with one hand, and with the other, he’s tickle-tormenting my thighs.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I’m ready to cry. Not from the pain, but from desire.

SMACK!

I jerk, not expecting that one.

“You moved.”

I look straight ahead, hoping he’ll forgive me.

“You get the hairbrush.”

Tears begin to roll down my cheeks. I tried so hard to make him happy.

He walks to my dresser and picks up the hairbrush.

I hate it.

He sits on the bed next to me, near the bottom-half of my body.

He begins to rub my butt with his hand, sometimes sliding a finger in my pussy.

“Are you supposed to move?”

I’m not allowed to speak.

“You may speak.”

I am sobbing, but I reply.

“No, Master.”

“What happens to girls who don’t listen?”

Still sobbing.

“They get the hairbrush.”

SMACK!

The hairbrush hits my left buttcheek, resulting in a lasting sting.

I had to bite my lip to keep from yelling.

“You forgot to say something.”

Shit.

“They get the hairbrush, MASTER.”

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“I didn’t tell you to speak.”

The last four blows were aimed at each buttcheek, the back of my right thigh, and my inner left thigh.

Please, please, touch me.

He begins to finger my pussy again. I’m not allowed to move.

I feel a finger enter my bottom. He begins using his fingers to fuck me in the ass.

He started rubbing my pussy with the side of the hairbrush, sliding it between my lips, brushing it over my clit.

I think I’m going to explode.

He pulls his fingers out of my butt, and begins smacking my pussy with the hairbrush.

SMACK!

I stifle a scream.

SMACK!

I’m not allowed to move.

SMACK!

Please fuck me.

He stops, and I see him walk back over to the dresser.

He picks up a four-inch butt plug and returns to my side.

He begins rubbing the butt plug up and down between my cheeks.

“You be a good girl, and take this up your ass, and maybe I’ll fuck you.”

He starts fucking my pussy with the butt plug, getting it nice and wet.

I feel the tip of the plug at my bottomhole.

I try to relax.

He pushes it a little further.

I put my butt a little higher up in the air.

One more push, and the plug rushes in, stopping abruptly at its base. Oh God, I feel like I belong to him.

I do.

“That was a good little girl.”

He’s behind me, admiring my plugged ass.

“I can’t decide how I want to fuck you. Doggy style? Missionary?”

He paused for a moment.

“No. I know.”

He untied my wrists and my ankles. I tried to kiss him. Bad mistake.

He pulled my hair, jerking my head back. “Do not touch me unless I give you permission.”

He positioned me so I was on top of a pile of pillows, facing him, my upper torso at an angle.

He took my hands and tied them to the upper part of the canopy, so they were up above my head. He took my legs and pulled them back, so my knees were touching my stomach. He tied my ankles to the headboard, so that my feet were actually behind my head.

I was wide open, vunerable.

He moved the base of the butt plug around to tease me.

“Do you want to be fucked?”

I’m not allowed to speak.

He chuckled.

“You may speak. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please, please, fuck me. I’ll be good, Master.”

He laughed again.

“Oh, I know you’ll be good. Beg me a little more. I like the sound of your voice when you beg.”

He was still playing with the plug in my ass.

I was so far gone that I didn’t know if I could speak. I had to cum.

“Please, please, Master. Please put your cock in my pussy and fuck me.”

He stopped playing with the butt plug and undressed.

His cock was erect, dripping pre-cum.

He got on the bed and put the tip of his cock barely between my pussy lips.

“Is this what you want?”

I just looked at him.

“Yeah, this is what you want.”

He pushed his cock into my pussy. In this position, with my legs up behind my head, he was hitting my G-spot directly.

I moaned, and began to grind my hips up and down the best that I could against the restraints.

He was watching my face, enjoying my torment, my lust, my breasts bouncing up and down.

He began to fuck harder. He wanted me to cum.

“Come on bitch. Don’t you like it?”

I felt the orgasm building. This was going to be a good one.

He smacked my thigh, and the orgams erupted.

I screamed, I fought against the ropes, I thrashed my head back and forth. My hips were grinding like mad.

I needed all of him.

He kept up his fucking until my orgasm was over, and then he immediately pulled out. He shot cum all over my stomach.

He leaned in between my ridiculously spread legs, and he kissed me.

“You’re a good little slut.”

Stomping

Bitch in Need