@ 2018 Asmodeus

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Spanking Time

The room is dark, moody. In the corner, a brace of candles flicker, throwing eerie, fleeting shadows across the few pieces of furniture that decorate the “playroom.”

You are already on the bed, shackled some time ago, for my pleasure. I had allowed you a period of reflection, a time to excite yourself, to consider what I would use you for tonight. I am deliciously aware of your inexperience, bathing in your innocence, your willingness to give to me so completely. Each of your gorgeous limbs is tied firmly to a corner of the bed as you lay, completely exposed for me. Black leather cuffs controlling your limbs in the same complete way I control your other parts. The small leather training collar on your neck, only so recently placed there by myself. I smile at you, watching the nervous submissiveness on your face.

“Please Master,” you start, “I’m afraid.”

I place my finger over your luscious red lips. “Don’t be darling,” I assure you.

My hands slowly work their way down your body. Fingers gently caress your ears, your neck, your breasts. I stop there for a few moments, teasing your nipples into erection. As they harden, my play with them becomes harder too. Rubbing the nipples between finger and thumb, pulling lightly, watching your reaction as I do so. You wince slightly as my play becomes a little rougher, but I continue unabated. I reach down under the bed and retrieve a couple of clothespins. I see the look in your eyes. Part fear, part excitement. You bite your bottom lip as the first is applied. As the second clamps home, you buck slightly against the restraints.

“Behave,” I chastise you. A firm slap on your thighs bringing you back.

“Yes Master,” you reply hesitantly.

My attention moves down your body. I bend over and let my tongue continue the journey. Over your flat stomach, teasing your navel. Then your pubes. A luscious black jungle of hair. I trap a few hairs between my teeth and draw back, just hard enough to hear you inhale sharply. I can smell you. Hot, decadent, musky. A finger probes your pussy. Your lips part easily, almost drawing my finger into you.

“Slut.” I say, raising myself up again.

“Yes Master.”

“My hot, horny little slut.”

“Yes Master.”

"But only mine," I reinforce.

"Yes, Master, only your slut. Nobody else's."

I step over your bound leg and settle down between your legs. My tongue buries itself hungrily onto your pussy. Long, strong laps at your clit, interspersed with thrusting jabs into your cunt itself. Tasting you, my tongue works faster, harder, bringing you closer to a line you know I won’t let you cross yet. Relentlessly I suck on you.

You writhe against the bondage in a futile attempt at controlling yourself, but it is pointless.

“Please Master,” you beg. “May I come?”

I stop my assault long enough to deny you.


You are so perfectly balanced on the edge, controlled excitement. Bound as much by your need to obey me as by the leather that holds you down. I continue to lick.

“Master...” Your pleas are weakening, I can sense you are at your limit.

I rise up again from your wet pussy. I fix on your large, puppy-like eyes. “Very well slut.”

My mouth touches your pussy again as the first throws of orgasm break free. Trickles of lubricant soak my already sodden face. You push onto me within the confines of the bonds, searching for that elusive contact that will bring you crashing over the edge. My tongue teases you for a moment, further heightening your tension as your body frantically searches for its release. Then I allow it to find your clit again. Your orgasm flows like electric. Smashing through you, fighting against your bonds, you strain, you pull, you push.

Then it has passed. For now, I allow the warm, relaxed feeling to wash over you. I slip up beside you and wipe the hair from your eyes. I gently kiss the beads of sweat from your forehead. I am about to congratulate you on doing so well for a first time.

“Oh, baby,” you say.

I look at you. “Pardon?”

You look horrified. You realise your mistake. You knew perfectly well that I do not allow you to call me “baby” while we are in the playroom - the choice of address is 'Sir' or 'Master,' no others. We'd discussed it long and hard before we'd come in here, so you knew. This is no elusive grey area; it is a black and white issue. There is a mixed look on your face; is it defiance or regret? Either way, I cannot allow this to pass. Disrespect to your Master cannot be tolerated whether by accident or design.

I raise myself from the bed. Your puppy like eyes follow me around the room as I contemplate a punishment for you.

Quickly, effortlessly, I firstly undo your bonds, then flip you over onto your front, before re-applying the bonds again, only a little tighter this time. I place a pillow under your face, and one under your pussy, to push your ass up a little into the air.

“I’m sorry Master,” you plead as I bring out the leather strap. “Please.”

"I know you are my dear," I reply. “But I will not tolerate such disobedience.”

I put the strap to your lips and watch you kiss it. "You are aware of the rule about addressing me in here, aren't you?" I confirm.

"Yes, Master."

"And you are aware that you broke that rule, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master."

"And that is why I am going to punish you, do you understand that?"

"Yes, Master, I'm sorry, it won't happen again." You bury your face in the pillow as you hear the first lash crack against your ass.

“One Master, on my butt,” I hear in muffled cries.

By six, you have learned your lesson.