“I’d say this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you but we both know that isn’t the case, don’t we slut?”
His voice carried a timbre of laughter that she found unsettling. There was–if not joy–a hint, perhaps, of pleasure.
Not that she minded giving him pleasure, far from it. But that her punishment was lending itself to this perverse form of it? That was the rub.
“I thought most Doms…Sirs…Masters…you know what I mean…”
At his nod she continued, pleased that her tone was level, her voice well modulated and not “chippy” as he termed her bitchy voice.
“….that they…well, Master, that they didn’t enjoy punishing their submissives. Yet…you seem…happy about it.”
The last few words came in a rush as though she had been afraid to give voice to the thought. Which she had, really. If he liked to give pain during play, how much worse would it be to punish her?
“No Dom likes to be sassed. Not seriously sassed. And having a slut take an orgasm that she didn’t ask for? That’s pretty serious stuff. This is mine.”
His hand cupped her pussy, squeezing the tender flesh until she rose up on her tiptoes.
“Mine to decide when and if to give it pleasure. You took that from me.”
“You …haven’t touched me in weeks…” she whispered.
“Then you should have approached me and asked, not said ‘hey hoe, I’m going to bang my greedy, juicy cunt.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you did bang your greedy, juicy cunt.”
Her eyes fell. Of that they could agree. He had walked into their room as she came with her favorite dildo rammed up inside of her.
“Finish getting dressed.”
He sat on the end of the bed and watched her prepare herself for work. When she was done, he directed her to stand between his feet. He lifted her dress, tugged down her panties.
“Hold this out of the way,” he ordered, handing her the hem of her dress. With it raised this way, she couldn’t see what he was doing, dammit! She felt his fingers parting her lips, felt him slide something inside of her, then the sound of…duct tape?
But the duct tape slapped over her cunt, locking whatever he’d put inside her, inside her. A second tear of tape made her want to shy away, but training held her in place. Something rested against her clit; and once again a quick slap of duct tape locked it in place.
He tugged up her panties, and gave her pussy a few hard smacks. It sent tremors through her.
In the car she felt a sudden rumble. A quick gasp escaped when a second vibration rubbed right over her clit. At his chuckle she glared.
“Just making sure they’re working,” he spoke amiably.
As they walked from the parking lot to the building where they both worked, the vibes kept starting, stopping, sometimes in unison, sometimes in disharmony. She would stop, or stutter-step every time.
“Sure hope you figure out how to walk today. Be sure to text me before you need to pee. You’ll have to come up to my office and use my toilet.”
Again she glared at him. He shrugged a shoulder at her.
“Hey, you’re the slut who wanted orgasms. I’m only here to help.”
In the elevator, she had two.
When her cell phone chimed a text from him, they went on again. In the middle of a meeting with clients, she knew he’d sent her another text, though her phone was on silent mode, as the busy vibes inside of her began working. She walked them to the door after 30 minutes, and had a shuddery orgasm as the elevator doors closed them inside.
At lunch she met him in his office to pee. He slapped a sanitary napkin into a pair of granny panties, removed her sexy, soaked pair, and slid the dry ugly ones on her.
“So sexy. So naughty. How many orgasms?”
“7. Or maybe 8. I get it Master.”
She paused as the vibes clicked on again.
“Only 7 or 8? I must be slipping.”
He bent her over his desk, tugging down her panties. His cock slicked along the wet curve of her oozing slit, then pressed against her anus.
She protested, but he felt her body shudder through another orgasm as he pressed into her tight asshole.
“Nine,” he whispered into her ear. Thrusting firmly, he counted off each ripple, keeping the vibes on high as he fucked her.
“I think we’re up to 14 now, right?”
She was sprawled on his desk, legs trembling. He smiled at her back, watching the muscles in her ass quiver at the sexual onslaught. He tugged the panties up, smoothed down her skirt.
“Back to work for you, naughty whore. Fucking the boss in his office at lunchtime.”
“B…but Sir…the vibes…”
“Will continue to give you much pleasure throughout the day.”
He ushered her out the door, but not before reminding her, with a small chuckle, to stay hydrated. In the elevator on the way down at the end of the day, she came so hard she almost slid down the wall. Though she shot glaring daggers at him, she continued to feel the rumble of the vibrators, continued to suffer through orgasms that came faster, harder each time. So sensitive, she was ready to collapse from the overabundance of pleasure.
In the car she whimpered as he slid a mailing tube between her legs before she sat.
“Hump yourself on that on the way home,” he ordered. She came just from the order, from the raw greed in his voice, from the pressure of the tube against her tortured clit.
Never again would she take an orgasm without asking, she knew.
Never again would she fail to come to him for permission to use her cunt, he knew.