Sonya is standing in the corner, quite happily. She knows there are spankings ahead of her, there will be cock, in her mouth and between her thighs. “In my cunt,” she thinks, toying with the word. Just the sound of it makes her cringe, so Sir has started using it often, making her say it too.
“Hydrated and happy,” she thinks, “cuffed, collared, and – contained.” Yes. Contained in a way that fits her – like a glove, she thinks, frowning at the cliche. He has attached her wrist cuffs to her belt again, so she can’t move her hands, and when her nose itches, she tries to focus on breathing calmly til the itch goes away.
And then he is behind her, quickly slipping the blindfold over her head, covering her eyes completely. “So dark,” she thinks, still quite happy. With the blindfold on, she is more conscious of herself, and of him. He has not spoken.
His hands slide over her mouth, fingers in her mouth, opening her, feeling her teeth, her tongue, then moving down. Over her chin, neck, shoulders, not stopping til there is a hand on each breast.
His palms, barely touching each nipple, as they get hard, straining to press against his hand, still he teases. And then his grip, each nipple between thumb and middle finger, caressing, pinching, tugging, oh! Hurting, hurting, and released. She gasps, whimpers, and hears his snort of laughter.
The hands move further down, one covering her belly, the other stroking down her back, until, “Open,” he says, his voice a growl. She spreads her legs wider, quickly, the hand in front separates her lips, stroking, spreading the moisture over her, just barely touching her clit.
She would have pressed forward, silently begging for more, but a quick slap, landing directly on that tender skin, followed quickly by another, makes her gasp. She pulls back instinctively, off balance, only to feel him penetrate the rear entrance, sliding 2 fingers, wet from her own juices, in the tighter entrance. They are not very far in, she cries out and presses her pelvis forward, trying to escape the fingers, which are pushing deeper.
And he smacks her pussy again. She pulls backs, impaling herself further on the fingers pushing their way in the back, making her squirm and moan. The hand that had been smacking her penetrates her in the front, and now she is full and she has no words or thoughts, just sensations, pleasure pain and pleasure, being off balance, held steady by the fingers inside her and the hands pressing on her, half leaning against her Sir.
Deep inside her, his fingers curl in that way she’s come to know that is certain to make her cum, he hits that spot and there are no letters for the sounds she makes as he strokes her there and moves his thumb to find the clit, fingers in the back filling her, feeling her taken, as he says, “Cum for me. Cum now,’ and ahhhhh – omg, omg, on her toes, trying to escape, and trying to take him deeper at the same time until, shaking and trembling she peaks and slides over the top, trembling hard as she begins the slide back down, crying out, “Sir,oh, Sir, omg, Sir…”
And then she can barely stand as he pulls his fingers away, all the fingers gone, juices running down her thighs, her hands still fastened to the belt, still blindfolded in the dark, moaning and laughing and maybe crying too. As the tremors moving through her body settle, she longs to wrap her arms around him. He tips her head back, kissing her deeply, making her moan again.
Holding her firmly, one hand on her breast, one on her belt, he moves them toward his chair. Settles himself, unhooks her cuffs from the belt, and turns her over his lap. “Hands on the floor,” he says, “And leave them there.” He tips her on his lap so that she has little choice but to keep her hands in front of her.
“I’m going to spank you,” he says. “It’s going to hurt. Do you accept this?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says quickly.
Swish-whack. It’s a short swish and lands hard on the lower part of her right cheek. A pause, then swish- whack, on the other side. She doesn’t know what he’s using but it’s stingy with a touch of thud. The paint stirrer, maybe.
Swish-whack, pause, swish whack. Then a longer pause. This time he says, “This is a punishment spanking. What are you being punished for?” He rests the thin paddle or paint stirrer on her ass as he waits for her answer.
“Being willful, Sir. And defiant.”
“Yes.” Swish-whack, pause, swish whack. This time, they land just above the first four, which were next to each other but not overlapping.
Swish-whack, pause, swish-whack. These are below the others, not quite as low as her sit spot. It hurts, but not dreadfully, and she is able to hold still, pushing her ass up even, so he can see she welcomes this punishment. A steady rhythm, and her body is still buzzing and vibrating from the orgasm, so it seem not so bad at all.
But it continues. After every four, he pauses a bit longer. Sometimes, he scolds her, gently.
Soon, he has covered her ass once, none of the blows overlapping yet. An extra hard set on her sit spot has her squirming, but then –
The next set crosses marks that are already there. And that stings, really, really stings. He pauses once to rub her ass gently. “Beautiful,” he says, “your ass is beautiful like this. And your willingness, your obedience is lovely.”
She smiles at his words, thinking how ridiculous she is for feeling so pleased with herself. He is pausing a bit longer between sets now, and she feels the sting, the thud, the pain, but then a kind of pleasure as she absorbs it, pushing her ass up for the next set.
The pain is greater as he starts to cover her ass again for the third time. This time she squirms, wanting to escape, but when she squirms he pauses, and lands two in quick succession on the back of her thighs. When she begins to cry, he pauses, tracing the welts with one finger. But then he starts again, and now the blows fall quicker, with less time to recover.
At last, she is sobbing, but no longer squirming, fully submitted, not trying to escape. The backs of her thighs are as marked as her ass, although he has stopped mid-thigh. He puts the paint stirrer – yes, it was the paint stirrer – to the side. Rubs her ass lovingly, waiting until she stops crying.
“Ten more,” he says. “Count them for me, and say thank you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says, shaking off the tears. The little pause has helped, she can do this, she assures herself.
He uses his hand now, he wants to feel the sting as it lands, feel the connection. Her ass is sore enough that he doesn’t need to smack hard. He lands the first one, enjoying the sound as it hits, loving the feeling of her skin under his hand, the way her ass gives beneath the smack, and her gasp.
“One,” she cries out, “Thank you, Sir.”
And he continues, caressing her ass in between each one, allowing her to settle and absorb the pain before striking again.
After the fifth one, he has her open her legs more and strokes and caresses between her thighs, toying with her, penetrating, withdrawing and caressing again until she is near orgasm. When he lands the sixth blow, she cries out, but he thinks it might be pleasure she’s feeling. She pauses before counting, and he smiles, knowing she’s not sure what the count is anymore.
But, “Six,” she guesses, “Thank you, Sir.” He pauses, and he feels her tension as she waits to see if she’s wrong – and then laughs with relief as his hand connects for the seventh time.
When he is finished, he lets her slide to the floor, still blindfolded, and she settles herself, kneeling between his legs. She longs to caress him with her mouth, and licks her lips, hoping to convey that desire.
He laughs and slips his thumb into her mouth, enjoying the sensation as she begins to suck, swirling her tongue over the soft pad. “I love you,” he says and feels her smile, even while she continues sucking his thumb.
“Mmmm,” she responds. The sound makes her mouth vibrate and he wishes his cock were in her mouth.
She’s lost in pleasure, the pleasure that follows a hard spanking and the remnants of an orgasm not that long ago, and now his thumb in her mouth that tastes so good. She barely has words for anything right now, she’s all sensation and willingness.
He wants to leave her blindfolded while he fucks her, or maybe lets her have his cock to pleasure the way he likes. He wants to fuck her though, and he wants to spank her again, not so hard, but for fun. Maybe a little bit hard. Or between her thighs. He pictures her struggling to keep her legs open so he can stroke her inner thighs with the flogger and then whack! He wants to use the nipple clamps, put them on and take them off, put them back on again a few times. Oh, it would be fun to make her put them on and take them off. He can picture her trembling, reluctant obedience so clearly.
He wants to do all the things, but not yet. Shaking his head firmly – at himself – he removes his thumb from her mouth. She whimpers and he wraps a blanket around her. “I’m going to take the blindfold off, “ he warns, “keep your eyes closed for a moment, open them slowly.” He eases the blindfold off and smiles as her eyelids flutter open, like a kitten, he thinks.
“Water and food,” he says. “That’s next.” He holds a water bottle to her mouth and she drinks.
“But – your cock?” She says tentatively. “Maybe I could just taste it? Please, Sir?”
He laughs, pleased with her sweetness, but he’s already decided. Shakes his head. “No, and no topping from the bottom, sweet girl.” She blushes, which delights him.
“Drink some more water,” he says, emptying his own bottle. “I’m going to the bathroom now. You rest a bit. I’d like for you to serve the food, it’s all prepared. And then I think I’ll chain your hands and feed you by hand.