The Lesson

The wave was beginning to engulf her. She could feel it swarming over her, turning her insides out, her outsides in. The feeling of his cock pounding in and out, his thrusts hard, forceful, demanding was pushing her deep into that wave and then…

…he pulled out.

“Noooooooooo…” she moaned long and low.

she squirmed on the bed trying vainly to rub her clit, but the ropes on her wrists and ankles lashed her firmly into place in the center of the bed, and the wedge under her belly lifted her ass up but gave no place for her to rub and give herself relief. Her head turned to the side to look for him in the room.

He sat in his chair, his hard cock gleaming wetly, visably throbbing. He had a smile on his face as he stroked himself, watching her struggle on the bed. Watched her, watching him. He knew she was waiting for him to do, or say …something. He stared  at her, and she finally averted her eyes as she had been taught.

He watched until he saw her cooling down, watched her struggles and moans weaken as the passion passed, then got up behind her on the bed. Lightly stroking her inner thighs, he felt her quiver.


His hand connected with her beautiful round bottom. Instantly a red handprint began to bloom on that fertile field.


and her other cheek began to redden to match its mate.


alternating cheeks, and force, he spanked her ass again and again until she wept and moaned. He watched her cunt begin to ooze again, smiling as he watched her passion re-ignite.

She panted, hating herself for forgetting one of His rules,  loving him for giving her what she so desperately craved. She could feel the pulsing heat of her ass, the soft touch of his fingers as he touched her weeping cunt lips, slipping from her clit to her anus, and back to her clit. She tried to push her ass up to him, but the ropes held her tight.

“Master………”  haltingly she spoke, “pl-please may I cum?”

He looked at her,  at the  glowing ass and dripping cunt and smiled to himself. A touch of firmness now, and she would be his forever.

“No, you may not cum until I tell you, is that clear?”

“y-yes, Master”

He could hear the stress in her voice, knew it would be mere moments before she was fully, passionately begging for His permission to cum. Again His finger traced the path from clit to anus to clit. He felt her vibrate against this one point of contact between them, his fingertip, her center. Pulling His finger away from her, He paused, then with a single, forceful thrust He was inside her, buried deeply in her hot, wet hole. He felt her cunt clenching around his cock, as he ground out…

“CUM! cum for me now you little slut. CUM!”

First visit

What the hell was she doing here? Panic was beginning to set in as she watched him move confidently around the kitchen pouring wine for them. Of course he was confident…it was his kitchen, after all , and here she was, perched on a stool in her new black dress, dark hose and 4 inch heels. He was well dressed as well, in charcoal slacks and a lighter grey polo shirt. He smelled divine, spicy and…male. Remembering that, she took a deep breath, consciously relaxing her clenched hands, and reached for the goblet he offered her.


She slanted a look up at him through sooty lashes, then returned her gaze to the deep red wine in her glass.

“I thought as much,” and setting his glass in front of her, he walked behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating out to her, then his hand gently curling on her nape.

“You dressed just as I asked” he stated softly.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” she babbled, leaning forward as if to rise.

“I’m not very good at following orders, you know? I’m an…independent woman!” she continued to talk, and too fast, she knew, but there were those nerves skittering up her spine again.

“And yet, here you sit, in the dress I asked you to wear, with your hair up the way I like” he replied as his hand fell upon her shoulder, firmly pressing her back into her seat.

He held his hand upon her shoulder until he felt her relax a bit, then reached up again to glide his finger along the whispy hairs that curled about the nape of her neck below her pony tail. Slowly he twirled one of the curls around his finger, pulling gently, then a bit harder until her head slowly eased back and she met his eyes.

“Open your mouth” he commanded, and when she complied, he put his finger between her lips, tracing her teeth, her inner cheek, her tongue.

“Suck it”.

She did as he asked, closing her lips around him, twirling her tongue about his digit, sucking firmly,  keeping her eyes on his, mesmerized.

Slowly he pulled his finger from her mouth.

“That’s a good start,” he said, as he pulled her from the stool.