“What on Earth were you thinking?”
He frowned down at her, as she stared up at him, a pleading look in her eyes. OH, she was well and truly fucked now, and he was glad that she knew it. Saucy slut. Presumptuous slut.
“Well, Sir, i waited so long for you to come home, and I was thinking about how I would feel when you came in the door and I’d get to suck your cock coz I’ve been thinking of it all day, and then I started touching myself and closed my eyes and could almost taste it, you know?”
He interjected her quick-spoken defense.
“You said you could almost taste ‘it’…to what are you referring, slut?”
She flushed. That would be two strikes against her now. He hated when she called his penis an “it”.
“I-I-” she paused, swallowing the nervous spit gathered in her mouth. “Sorry Sir. Your penis, cock, dick, rod, staff, dong, cum gun, fuck-rod, joystick, pecker. Not an “it”.”
He almost had to bite his lip to prevent the smile that threatened to emerge. She was required to speak ten alternate names for his cock if she slipped and called his manhood an “it”. The inclusion of joystick always cracked him up. Which of course she knew, the smartass.
“Very good. Carry on with your explanation for that.”
He pointed to the puddle on the floor near the front door. She threw a quick glance at it, then hastily back at him. She wanted to look away from him, he knew, but he compelled her to meet his eyes as she spoke of her misdeed.
“I-I was thinking about sucking your cock, Sir. The way your skin feels against my lips, the weight of your shaft against my tongue. The slick way your swollen head slips deeply into my mouth, my throat. The feeling of the gag until I get it under control, the taste of your cum as you spurt. By then I was rubbing my clit harder, and before I realized, I was cumming, Sir, and your car–I could hear you turn into the driveway and…”
“And it was too late to hide your dirty deed?”
“Oh Sir! I wouldn’t have hidden it. I would have told you.”
“The smell of you when I walked in the door told me, slut. And my cock remains unsucked.”
She looked hopeful for a moment. The dragon inside of him was happy to dash that hope, watch the nerves dance across her face.
“Unfortunately, that can not happen until you receive your punishment. You do need to be punished, don’t you, greedy little slut?”
She nodded solemnly.
“Good. Rise, and assume the position.” He pointed to the arm of the couch.
Slowly she rose, the hem of her skirt fluttering around her thighs. Shirtless, as he preferred, and pantiless as well, he enjoyed the teasing view of her bottom as she moved towards the couch. He knew the fabric would scratch at her nipples, she complained of that often enough.
She stopped, throwing a questioning look over her shoulder.
“Wait right there, I’ll be right back.”
She watched him walk into their bedroom. Now what? She felt a tremor of nerves. In moments he was back.
Moving to the front of her, he pinched one nipple, making it draw tight. Grasping it between thumb and forefinger, he wound an elastic band around and around it, holding the engorged nubbin in its full, hard state. He treated the other bud the same way.
For a moment she didn’t feel much. Pressure, to be sure. A tingle between her thighs, but his touch always did that.
“Now, over, in position.”
She bent over, her increasingly sensitive nipples rubbing against the chenille fabric. Oh. It felt even rougher as blood pooled behind the constricting elastics.
He moved around the room, gods only knew what the fuck he was doing. He came close, folding her skirt up and baring her bottom.
“At last,” she thought, but to her disappointment, he moved away. She heard the squeak of the chair as he sat in it, and the corresponding flush of embarrassment as she felt his eyes moving over her bottom.
“Those pussy lips of yours are glistening with sex juice.”
The comment was almost offhand, a description rather than a tease. The flush grew deeper, and her “glistening pussy” pulsed with the sudden upsurge of desire. It embarrassed her no end that he was sitting there just looking at her, yet the humiliation, while excruciating, was also exciting. Sometimes she was such a sick, perverted fuck.
The familiar strains of Beethoven’s Für Elise came from behind her, his cell phone. He spoke to Emily, his secretary at work.
And spoke to her. He rose from the chair and paced the room.
And spoke to her.
And added several paragraphs of text to a document she was obviously updating as he spoke. He spelled names, waited for read-backs, and generally ignored his slut, skirt folded up over the small of her back, ass raised, nipples hurting.
She fumed. She huffed. She waggled her butt.
The call ended and the first swat on her ass came almost simultaneously. He struck all around her ass, never in the same place twice, until she felt like she could glow in the dark. Her body pushed and wiggled as she tried to maintain position, her nipple scrubbed against the roughness of the couch cushion below her. Her breasts hurt, aching and throbbing from the tightness of the elastics around her nipples.
The pain in her tits was nothing compared to what was happening on her ass. And when she thought she would scream for mercy, his phone rang. His hand rubbed her abused bottom as he talked once more to his secretary, stroking teasingly over her swollen pussy, then back to rub her ass.
She knew better than to make noise when he was on the phone, but she felt the moan growing with every sweeping touch. And then his fingers were reaching, seeking her swollen clit, tugging and rubbing it. She was close, so close.
He stopped touching, wiping his hand across her bum, and paced around the room still working on that fucking document! She needed to cum, dammit! The squeak on the floor presaged his coming near her again, yet he didn’t touch her. Around and around the room he moved, making her crazy with the need to shout at him. The cad! The brute! The bloody bastard!
His fingers slid into her slick, hot hole, and she almost yelped as he stroked deep into her, and out, swishing across her clit. Without a word, he pulled out, walked away, resuming the circuit around the room.
He was driving her fucking nuts!
Again the call ended, and she waited, her nipples sending hot licks of fiery pain up her tits. Every movement now was extremely painful, and she did whimper.
The thwack of the cane against her tender bottom was shocking. She yelped again as he caned her between her thighs, short hard raps against her tender, greedy pussy flesh, down the length of her leg, then back up over her ass. She didn’t know where the next blow would land, and she wanted nothing more than to roll away and attempt to crawl under the couch to hide.
And then he was done.
The cane hit the table in front of the couch with a clatter. The quick zzzzp of his fly was the only warning she had before his cock slid into her pussy.
He fucked hard and deep into her, his fist tangled in her hair, arching her back. He spoke not a word, and ignored the phone when it rang again. He pumped at the rhythm of the classical love song, and when she was that close to cumming, her nipples feeling like they would explode, he pulled out of her greedy pussy, leaving her gasping and yearning.
“Now, slut. Now you may suck my cock.”