Masturbation Monday: I endorse this plan

Roland put his hand on Teresa’s back. His cock pressed against her right thigh. He was very hard. Most of his mind had turned off, too, she expected.

He said, “Of course this is going to hurt. If it didn’t it wouldn’t be real, and it wouldn’t be sexy. So I mean to hurt you, Teresa O’Sullivan. Hurt you personally and particularly and deliberately. If I went lighter it’d just be mildly painful and feel kind of annoying. But if I go harder, your body responds to it. You won’t feel it as pain at all. Ok?”

He let her see his hand, suspended until she replied. She frowned. “That… might be right.” 

He held eye contact with her while his hand landed again across her arse, which was – if his phone camera hadn’t lied – already a blazing red. She could feel its heat. He leant down and kissed her ear.

He whispered, “So don’t you bother complaining that it hurts. Unless you want to turn me on.”

“Mmm. You’re such a cruel boy.”

He put his hand on her back to hold her down, and smacked her hard on the tops of her thighs, adding eleven very fast, very hard smacks while she wailed and squirmed.

“I don’t need to hear from you again, Teresa, until you thank me for your spanking when I’m finished.”

Teresa nodded, bowing her head. The explanation of why a hard spanking hurts less than a mild one was, she knew, Roland’s style. He liked a well informed submissive. But now he was being sexy billionaire Julian again, a man who never apologised and never explained. He pressed one hand just below the nape of her neck, holding her down across his desk while he resumed her spanking.

For a long time the room echoed with the sharp sound of Roland’s hard hand on Teresa’s soft, rounded, flesh and her laboured breathing and her occasional mews, which might have been little cries of pain, or pleasure, or both.

At about what she judged – she wasn’t counting – was the ninetieth or possibly hundredth spank he stopped.Teresae said nothing. She’d found herself, at last, in a strange, floating world of her own, an erotic world in which there was only a continuous heat and knowledge of her own acceptance of that.

It seemed an far away and unimportant fact, that he’d stopped spanking her.

She was aware of events – he pulled out the top drawer of the desk and took out a bottle of lubricant, pouring the gel liberally onto his forefinger and index finger – but she hardly thought of them as having importance to her. Until he pressed against her anal ring, and after a pause and a little more pressure she opened and admitted his fingers. She was still floating after her spanking, and very relaxed.

It felt pleasant and oddly comforting, though in a sense it was far away, barely connected to her. There was nothing Roland could do, just then, that she wouldn’t accept. She had abandoned herself to trust in him. He let the two fingers enter to the second knuckle, spreading the lube inside until she was slick and his fingers moved easily. Then he removed them, coated them again, and re-entered her.

This time Teresa’s eyes opened, and she made a languorous sound. “You’re going to fuck my arse. And give me your come. I, uh, endorse this plan. Oh! And thank-you-for-my-spanking, sir…”

Masturbation Monday: Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream

Something clicked in Teresa’s mind as she bent over her desk. She opened her eyes and mouth. In the book beside her bed, Tessa’s Duties, by Cerise Nates, the dominant billionaire Julian had called virginal secretary Tessa ‘little minx’, just like Roland had called her now. And that phrase, ‘Stretch your arms out sideways, and don’t move them’: that was word for word from her favourite passage.

She glared back at him, but without rising from his desk. “Hey! You bastard, you did read my books! You read Tessa’s Task! Are you being Julian?”

“I haven’t read Tessa’s Task.” She suspected that’d be true, though misleading. He’d only had have time to read a page and a half of it.

But it was her favourite page and a half. She guessed that Roland wanted her to have the experience of something she’d thought of, magically coming true. So she was generous to him, and didn’t call him on it. He smacked her again, harder. “It’s time you had a proper spanking, girl.”

“I’ve already had one! You just spanked me, remember?” It was odd having this defiant conversation with her nipples and nose obediently pressed against the wooden desktop. “And that was on the most tenuous excuse I’ve ever heard.” 

“Teresa, I said a proper spanking. You’ve had the first half. When you’ve had the second half, then you can say you’ve had a proper spanking.”

But he followed that nonsense by putting his hands back on her bottom, and dug his thumbs into the balled muscles, reaching and pressing into tension spots.

Teresa said, “Oof”, then moaned softly. The nonsense he sometimes spoke was only nonsense, but his touch was real and it felt good.

After a couple of minutes of firm massage he stroked in the deep valley between her buttocks, very lightly touching her cunt. Teresa closed her eyes and moaned while he ran his fingertips along her lips, getting them wet. She was wetter. She asked, “Is this the proper spanking?” She tried, for comedy purposes, to make it sound as if she hoped so.  

Roland only smacked her, hard, making that pistol-shot sound of palm on flesh. “This is a proper spanking.” He smacked her again, still hard, on the other side. “Now keep your arse up, Teresa. You look hot like that, and you know it. Also, you want to give me a perfect target.”

“Please don’t hurt me. Not … too much. Sir.” Her voice was little. Her voice sounded little to her, and she was surprising herself. Teresa didn’t know, just then, whether she was play-acting or if the spanks she’d already had, and the commands she’d already obeyed, with the promise of many more of both to come, had let her drift into a smaller, less powerful state of mind. There are pleasures in helplessness. Teresa decided to let go, turn off her mind and float, discovering and exploring downstream.

Masturbation Monday: The orgasmic arch

Philip laughed. He wasn’t mocking her, as she was mocking him. He was just happy. He pulled her a little higher in the bed, so her face was in kissing range of Chetana’s cunt. He shuffled with her, so he still had his thighs under, positioning her bottom up and posed. Chetana put her hand on the back of Jayavardhini’s head, then took her ears. “Come on, little one.”

Jayavardhini wriggled her arms out of Philip’s grip and brought them forward to slide under Chetana’s ass. She lowered her head and touched her tongue to Chetana’s cunt, just touching her lips. Then she took her tongue away, so that Chetana opened her mouth and let her head fall back, and then pressed forward, tongue touching her lover again. 

Jayavardhini smiled when Chetana gasped, and Philip’s hand landed on her bottom, again. This was a good game: she was pleasing Chetana, her lover, and Philip, who she expected to call her lover soon. And in her apparent submission she was the centre of attention in that bed, and she held more than her share of the power.

Chetana sighed, pleasured, and Jayavardhini rewarded her, licking along the outside of her cunt, from bottom to top. Then she pressed her tongue a little harder, opening her lover and tasting her. She could taste Philip too, it seemed. She supposed she’d have to get used to thinking of Chetana as one of her lovers. Plural.

Philip had his hand on her ass, squeezing firmly where he’d smacked. He smacked her twice, left side then right, his hand hard. And good. She lost her rhythm with Chetana, but gained in passion. He set up his own rhythm now, spanking her slow and long, the impacts but not getting harder, nor faster. She was being taken on a ride.

Chetana, under her mouth, was wet and soft, a surrender of a different kind. She kissed Chetana’s cunt, wanting her to feel her love as well as her desire to please her, then licked her sweet, opened flesh, moving a little faster.

She felt Philip’s hand on her ass, hurting her in the knowledge that that she would turn any pain he gave her into sex. Chetana gasped again, under her tongue. Philip smacked Jayavardhini’s ass a little harder, and then again. She surrendered her body and part of her soul to him, letting him do what he wanted, trusting that she would love it whatever it might be.

Chetana leaned back, caressing Jayavardhini’s face with her thighs, as she worked. Philip increased the speed, though not the severity of her spanking. He must be watching the two of them; she could feel his erection pushing into her hip.

She knew that if she were not so aroused, his spanking would be hurting by now. He was spanking her smartly, the way he might if he ever intended to punish her, and she let him. But the blows brought her no pain. Only a long, continuous wave of lust.

Her fingers tightened on Chetana’s muscular buttocks, digging into her flesh, intending to hurt her. Chetana gasped in response, then stayed vocal, cooing her pleasure. She was going to come soon.

Jayavardhini focussed her tonguing on her lover’s clitoris, pulling her right hand from under Chetana’s ass to insert two fingers into her cunt. They entered easily; Chetana was so soft, so wet. Jayavardhini pushed those fingers upwards, and pressed and lapped her harder with her tongue.

Philip was landing his hand on her ass hard and fast now, and the rhythm was right for Jayavardhini to stay with it as she face-fucked Chetana. She increased the pressure on Chetana’s clitoris, and felt her tense suddenly. Chetana’s back arched, so Jayavardhini had to follow as her bottom lifted from the bed. Chetana screamed, her pleasure sounding like the darkest grief, as if she were being tortured.

Jayavardhini kissed her cunt and said, “Ooh, my love.”

But Philip’s hand landed again on her ass, much harder than before, and she yelped. The sound of his slap echoed in the cabin, and he growled, “Don’t you dare stop.” Jayavardhini returned to her task, tonguing Chetana, and slipped two fingers into her ass. Chetana screamed again, then her head fell back and her body slipped forward, relaxed. Jayavardhini kissed her navel, then the ribs between her breasts.

Chetana opened her eyes at last and stretched, then wrapped her legs round Jayavardhini and held her hair in her hands. “Thank you. Thank you, both of you. I love you. Both of you.”

Wicked Wednesday: The desk warmed by Jennifer’s body

Jennifer, released after the first half of her skippering, looked at her panties, and considered how they’d feel on her glowing red bottom. She’d asked me for permission not to put them back on.

I considered some options, including putting them on her myself, with smacks for any fuss she made. But she’d just come so beautifully, bent over my desk, and as far as I was concerned she could do no wrong, and she must come to no harm. So I said, “I suppose that’s all right, Jennifer. After this skippering, I don’t think you’ll be wanting to flash anyone, not for a few days at least.”

“Oh sir, never again. Believe me.”

She reached for her blazer and put in on, dropping the panties into the left pocket.

We looked at each other. Jennifer broke the moment, running at me and kissing me. I kissed her back, gravely, one hand in her hair. With my other hand I lifted her skirt at the back and rubbed her bottom, her skin hot under my hand. She kissed me again, softly, thoughtfully, while I stroked her. But after a few seconds I gently disengaged her. “You’re a good girl. But you’d best go home, now.”

I pushed the button on my desk phone, and said, “Maddie, make out a taxi chit for Jennifer, and call her a taxi to take her home, right now. And when you’ve done that, come in and bring me my notes on the swimming pool.”

I turned to Jennifer. “Girl, you will wait in Maddie’s office now, until the taxi arrives. Go to the taxi when it arrives. You’ll see it, through the window. Tell the driver to take you straight home, and give him the taxi chit when you leave. That’s it for now. I’ll see you back here after school tomorrow. Why is that?”

“Because you’re going to give me the rest of my skippering, sir.”

“That’s right, Jennifer.” I lifted her skirt again. “Eighteen strokes. So you’d best make sure you behave yourself all day, tomorrow, hadn’t you?”

“Oh, sir. I don’t want any more strokes. Eighteen will be…” She smiled at me. “Enough to be going on with. I’ll be soooo good, all day. Sir.”

“You respond well to discipline, Jennifer. You really do need it, don’t you?”

She touched her bottom, then quickly took her hands away, remembering that she wasn’t allowed to comfort herself. “Yes, sir, it seems I do. Thank you, sir.”

I held the door for her, and she stepped into Maddie’s domain.

In a few minutes Maddie arrived in my office. She had papers with her, though she was only carrying them as a show, for Jennifer’s sake. She dropped them on the chair, and, without a word dropped her skirt and undid her blouse, bending over the warm part of the desk where Jennifer had just lain. 

I condomed up and entered her, taking the higher, tighter orifice, since I couldn’t give her the slippering I felt she needed, or I needed to give her. Jennifer was not to know that Maddie was subject to discipline as well. Not yet.

Maddie took me in silence, aware of Jennifer just a wall away, until she grunted at one thrust that also lurched the desk forward. I reached under her and stroked her pussy. I wanted to take my time, but the sounds Maddie had heard from her office had made her as aroused as I was, and we lasted only a few minutes. We struggled to stay silent while we came.

Later, we heard the taxi honk and Jennifer sing out a “Bye, sir!” We went to the stock room. I pulled out the spare mattress, some blankets and pillows and we lay together fondly, Maddie and I.

Kink of the Week: Hand Spanking

My love Gretel has been in the wrong part of the world for too long. But soon she’ll be back where she belongs. I’m starting to anticipate her arrival. I’m starting to make plans. One of the first things that will happen to her is that I’m going to put her pver my knee, and give her a long and memorable spanking. Skin to bare skin. 

Why is that such a priority, in my imagination, and – I’m certain – in actuality?  What is this? Why do I like this so much?

There are visual pleasures to be had from spanking Gretel. The sight of her flesh rippling and firming under my hand as each smack lands. Her face frowning in concentration, a slight pursing of her mouth with each blow. I’ve watched these things with absorption, and been amazed by their, and her, beauty.

When I make the smacks harder I can watch the changes in her skin, the instant of pallor directly under my hand at the instant of contact, and study it as it blushes to pink as the blood rushes to the assaulted skin.

At first I can see individual prints, my palm, fingers and thumb marked on her like the painted hand on Paleolithic cave walls. But those marks soon merge into one large red blotch covering her buttocks and upper thighs.

As I continue, slowly building up the force of the smacks, she gives me movements to watch, the rocking of her hips and buttocks as she presses down against me and then offers herself up in answering rhythm to my hand. She tucks her hair behind her ears, but when she’s in spanked-girl motion on my knee it falls forward over her face.

There are tactile pleasures, the curved planes of her buttocks and thighs under my hand, soft when I touch her gently, firmly rebounding when I touch more fiercely. It feels so sensual. I love the impact of my palm against her muscles, and the reactions of her body in that second of impact.

Those sensations are all the more intense for only lasting for an instant. Gretel’s body pressed against mine, her hips slowly pumping, moving under my hand: I’m achingly aware of every silken micro-movement of her belly or her thighs.

There are sounds, too: the clap of skin against skin and her occasional answering grunts. And there are our own heady smells.

There’s another thing, though. There’s a strange, almost telepathic intimacy between us when I heat and mark her. I know that the sting in my hand is only a distant echo of the much fiercer pain in her bottom and thighs. I wouldn’t like that sensation myself, but I seem to have some sense of the way in which Gretel experiences it as pleasure. That means I can feel that pleasure along with her. I also know, just as surely as I know that I felt her pleasure, that she can feel some of my my pleasure in watching her, holding her, and spanking her incredible, beautiful ass and thighs.

So, girl. Come here. Assume the position.

 

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie takes unholy orders

The previous episode is here.

 

He smiled down at me, freshly orgasmic, freshly spanked, over his knee. I’d just asked him to fuck me, and I’d meant it. He put his hand back on my poor, sensitive bottom, and said, “No, Maddie. You know this isn’t the right night. I want it to be special for you.” 

I thought of arguing with him. But it seemed such a silly thing that I just giggled. He looked puzzled. “What, girl?” 

“I feel very special right now, sir. And I want you to… fuck me.” 

I don’t know for sure, but that may be Ornella Muti’s (Princess Aurora in Flash Whoo-ah! Gordon) daughter.

He smacked me then. I yelped. “You don’t argue with me, Maddie. Do you?” 

“No, Sir.” Then I laughed again. “You can fuck me whenever you like.” It sounded like such a strange thing to say to a man. I felt so grown-up over his knee, so forward, and so good, and so happy.

“Oh, girl, I certainly will. You don’t want to have any choice on that, do you?”

I had to think about that. Then I said, truly, “No, I don’t. That’s what ‘whenever you like’ means. Always, Sir. Not just the first time.”

He spanked me again, six smacks, not hard. They hurt me, but I knew he wanted me to feel good. I did.

 “Thank me for your spanking, Maddie.” 

“Oh, yes, Sir! Thank you for spanking me. And thank you for making me come. It was glorious. If you don’t mind me saying, Sir.” 

He rubbed me where he’d spanked. I was ready to come again. He just had to… Then it struck that he didn’t have to do anything. I was the one who had to do things. My life wasn’t going to be fair. It was just going to be hot. At last he said, “I don’t mind you saying, at all, Maddie. I’m pleased with you. In every way. You’re a good girl. A perfect girl. You can be proud of that.”  

“Sir.” I waggled my bottom at him. I hoped… Well, you know what I hoped.

He said, “But you need to get up now. Put your feet on the floor.” He helped me up, still naked. “Keep your back to the fire, girl. Hands on head.” 

I obeyed, and he disappeared for a while. He reappeared with my clothes, an iron and ironing board. “You can iron, I take it.” 

“Better than my mother, Sir.” 

He set up the board and plugged the iron. “All right. Show me.” 

I reached for my panties – they didn’t need ironing. He strode over quickly, held me, and bent me forward at the waist. His hand landed on my bottom, once, twice, then six times, then ten, and I wondered, yelping and writhing and squealing apologies, how long this spanking was going to go on for. This time he really was punishing me.

It hurt. Physically, I mean. I felt so bad for doing something that made me deserve it, too. He stopped at thirty smacks, though I didn’t stop wriggling, and hopping from foot to foot for a while afterwards. My poor little ass really hurt. I wanted to rub it better, but I knew that I did that without his permission I’d feel his belt, or worse.

 “Maddie. You will never dress yourself in my presence, without my express permission. Is that clear?” 

I felt so ashamed. I hadn’t thought. “Yes, I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.” 

“I should think not. In fact, whenever you’re here, you undress at the door. You do not have the right to wear clothes in this house, unless I tell you otherwise.” 

“Yes, Sir. I understand.” I was so sorry. 

“Now iron your skirt and your shirt. I’ll watch.” 

He was smiling again. My heart lifted, with that. I remembered the fantasy I’d had in the bath, about being Miss Sexy Girl with an iron. So I stood further from the ironing board than I usually do, so that I had to bend at the waist.

And I began, basking in his eyes. I, uh, was finding that I don’t mind the male gaze. If it’s the right male. 

While I worked, he told me he’d made a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow morning.

He’d take me. We were going to do tests for pregnancy and swabs to test for STDs. And, he said, I might need to take the morning after pill.

That could be easy, but there was also a chance it could make me feel very bad. So he’d bring me here again tomorrow, so he could look after me.

The morning after pill at didn’t sound like much fun. But I realised that he wasn’t going to fuck me till all this had been dealt with, and I was ok. That made sense. I wasn’t getting what I wanted, but he was taking care of me.  

Eventually, I finished, and uniform was all crisp and warm again. He looked at me very seriously. “You may get dressed now, Maddie.” 

When I’d finished, he held me in his arms and kissed me. I felt him getting hard again. So did he, because he suddenly stopped. “Come on, girl. I’d better take you home.”

 

The next episode is here.

 

 

Maddie’s virginity: The aftermath

“It’s nice that you’re holding me,” Maddie said. “I appreciate that you do care about me. You sadistic bastard.” I pinched her nipple, hard. “Ow! No, seriously, I do like it that you care about me. May I rub, sir?”

“No. I meant to hurt you. Stay where you are and hurt, Maddie.”I resumed the pressure on her nipple, a little harder.

She nodded. “Thank you, sir. And I do love that you’re cruel, and that you care about me. But I didn’t tell you that story so you’d sympathise with me.”

I let go of her nipple then, getting a gasp of pain from her. Then I rubbed and pressed it soothingly, since someone had to. “It’s a parable?”

“Yes. I don’t mean, watch out or someone will rape Jennifer. I’m not being that exact. It’s just that I think it’d be a pity for you and a tragedy for her if you both missed out on having each other.” She laughed. “Together! For the first time!”

I tweaked that nipple again, in warning, and cupped her breast with my hand. 

“Mmm. But I worry that you and she will miss out on something that would be very special.I don’t know.”

I kissed her. I had nothing to say. But she did need to know she was held, and loved. She relaxed into my arms this time, and there was a moment when it seemed she would roll back, pulling me down on top of her. But she drew her head away, and looked into my eyes. 

“I just want to say there are a whole lot of things that can go wrong in the universe. Jennifer’s eighteen. And she’s very horny. Horny for you, sure, but she’s also just horny in general.”

“What makes you say that? I mean, horny for me, specifically?”

“I watched her leave, the last time you spanked her. She was absolutely … blissed out. I know we’re not the same person, Jennifer and I, but I do know, close enough, what she’s feeling. Because I’ve watched her and heard her, and I’ve been exactly in her place.”

“True enough.”

“I promise you, from experience as well as observation, she wants you to show her how sex works, to make her undress for you so you can hurt her. She wants to be disciplined. It’s sexy and hot, and it makes her feel singled out. It make her know she’s special.”

“Well, she is.”

“So she should be. Sir. She wants you to spank her again, soon. Tomorrow would be good. And she wants the cane. Well, it’s more that she wants to experience the cane. To be a girl under your discipline. And, a little later but not too much later, for you to take her and teach her.”

I said, “So. I want you to make an appointment for Miss Perch to see me after school tomorrow. That should help her to feel singled out. And special.” 

“After school tomorrow, for Jennifer. Spanking or the cane?”

“Don’t know. I’ll ask her teachers how she’s been behaving. That will decide it. Probably a spanking. With a warning that it’s the cane next time.””

“Watch her make sure there’s a next time. And soon. And after that you should definitely fuck her. She’s longing for that to happen. She’s impatient.”

I nodded. I’d felt that too, about Jennifer’s reactions over my knee. “And I should make it happen.”

“Yes. Soon. And you should make sure its special.”

“Um, Maddie. What happened to you, when you knocked on the door? And he let you in and saw you? All messed up, my poor girl?” 

Maddie drew in a breath.

 

The next episode is here.

Sinful Sunday: The comforts of being good

Sometimes a good girl needs a spanking. She just does. Her skin and her soul crave it. Not too hard, not too light. Just sensual. With lots of appreciation of her beauty. 

And sometimes a good girl gets what she needs.

 

Note:

The castle again. A couple of weeks ago I published an “aftermath” picture, showing my girl sleeping afterwards. But this was taken during the enwarmening process itself.  

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie’s virginity (last hours 6)

The previous episode is here.

 

 

I kissed the tip of his cock [Maddie said], and it suddenly bounced up like a live thing that I’d disturbed. He made no sound, but he was shaking just a little, just like I was. I kissed that tip again, letting my lips enfold it. He gasped. So I was doing it right.

What surprised me was the softness. I mean it was hard, but the skin was soft, like it had peach fuzz or something. It doesn’t, but that was how it felt. I kissed it, and then opened my mouth to take him in a little more. So he couldn’t go flicking up out of my … reach.

“Take it, take me a little deeper, Maddie.” It wasn’t the voice I knew, that had commanded me when he’d spanked me, and that meant I couldn’t think of disobeying him. This voice was lighter. There was a constriction in his throat. He seemed younger. He needed me, and I could hear it. 

So I kissed that tip again, smiling. I liked it. I liked him. And I was in control here. Then I opened, and felt him push his cock in. He was trying to control himself, but he couldn’t help that forward movement, that first thrust, I was sure. I took his head, his glans, all the way in, and ringed my lips on him just past his foreskin.

I knew two things about how to do this. I licked the underside of his glans, and he moaned. Then I sucked, hard, my cheeks hollow between my teeth and he was silent. But his whole body shook.

He said, “Good, that’s good. You’re a good girl.”

Then I felt his hand on the back of my head, and he pushed me forward, slowly, until I had most of him in. I was a little scared. What if he rammed me forward, and I couldn’t take him all of his cock into me? Would I choke? Would he punish me? My bottom still burned, from the spanking he’d just given me. 

He said, “I’m going to move for a while. It’s called fucking your mouth. Now put your hand on the base of my cock. Good, that’s it. This way I won’t go too deep for you. It’s your first time, isn’t Maddie?”

I spoke to his cock. I didn’t want to take my mouth off it. “Yes, sir.” My voice sounded muffled. I was talking with my mouth full. If it hadn’t been so strange and so hot, I’d have thought that was funny.

“Good. Good girl. I’m glad I’m your first. Now, the next part is simple. I move in your mouth, and you suck. You suck hard. If you take your mouth off my cock, or I don’t think you’re trying, Maddie, I’ll cane you. Hard, and I won’t stop when you’re crying. I won’t bother counting, but you won’t get less than 50, across your bottom and legs. Understood?”

His voice had deepened again. Maybe I liked that voice better. “Yes sir!”

Then his hand pushed my mouth onto him, and he thrust forward to meet me, and I sucked him, hard as I could, as he’d told me. And he fucked my mouth, and the only sound now was my heartbeat, and my breathing though my nose, and his occasional gasps of pleasure.

Sometimes he pushed a little deeper, and although I had my hand on his cock, like he’d told me, I mostly let him. I liked that I could feel my bottom, so hotly punished, so swollen and burning, while I served him. 

We’d sped up. His cock was moving in my mouth fast now, and it wanted to get as deep as it could. It was like his body was controlled by some other force, not him. And I tasted something salty, and then he put his other hand to my cheek, trying to be gentle, and he said, “swallow every drop, girl, or you’ll get that caning.”

I was going to nod, but suddenly there was a spurt of salty, slippery stuff, hitting the back of my throat, and in less that a second my mouth was full of it. I swallowed, and swallowed, because I knew that if I gave him an excuse to cane me, in this moment he’d be merciless. Eventually I’d swallowed it all, I think, and his cock had slowed, still thrusting in my mouth but without the same urgency.  I followed my instinct and kept sucking, cleaning the shaft of his cock and swallowing my of his fluid, his sperm, as it came.

I wondered if I should stop, but he didn’t tell me to. So I didn’t.

 

The next episode is here.