BDSM Story – Damn, Part 3 of 3

by pussy kat
Damn, Monday afternoon rush-hour sucks! It’s already 5:45, and I still have at least another 20 minutes to go until I am home.

6:09 – I open the garage door and see You are already home. Damn again. I finally walk through the door, quickly toss my keys, watch, and purse on the mud-room shelf, and hang my coat in the closet.

6:11 – I enter the living room. You are seated in Your chair, music playing softly in the background, Your head tipped back, relaxed. I get on my knees, drop my arms to the floor, palms and forearms flat on the carpet, head lowered. I hear You move, but dare not look.

“Eleven minutes late, katrina. That’s going to cost you.”

“Yes, Sir.” I reply meekly.

“You may rise and prepare yourself. I will see you in fifteen minutes.”

I lift myself off the floor, walk unhurriedly up the stairs to our bedroom. Under no circumstances am I allowed to rush to “beat the clock.” Nor am I allowed to wear a watch or look at the clock to check the time. I must trust You inherently that You will time me fairly and honestly.

After alighting the stairs and walking slowly down the hall, I enter our bedroom. Upon crossing the threshold, I tear off my blouse as quickly as I can unbutton it. “Why did I not choose a sweater today?” I question myself.

Blouse off, but I still need to remove my shoes, camisole, stockings, slip, skirt, garter belt, bra, and panties. I really need to simplify my wardrobe!

I jump in the shower, quickly clean between my thighs. I exit and dry off. I brush my teeth, run a comb through my auburn locks, touch-up my makeup. Finally, I grab my leather collar off its shelf and fumble to fasten its buckles. Once completed, I resume my position in the center of the bedroom and call out to You.

“I am prepared, Sir.”

Though I cannot see You enter, I sense Your body filling the door frame. You step in front of me and simply state, “Eighteen minutes, kat. Not acceptable.” I wince imperceptibly.

“So, where does that leave us already tonight,” You ponder aloud. “One hand spanking for every minute after 6:00 p.m., and 10 whips with the leather strap for every minute over 15 to prepare yourself. That puts you at 11 and 30. You better hope that’s all you did wrong!”

As is Your nightly custom, You examine every inch of me to be sure I am adequately prepared. Ever the perfectionist, I am cleanly waxed, freshly washed, hair and makeup flawless. My collar is in place, and I am in my mandatory position, bowing before You.

“Well, My little pussy kat, you are well prepared and beautiful as always. Were it not for your tardiness, you may have gotten off easy tonight. But you know how I do not allow tardiness, do I.”

“No, Sir,” I respond.

“I know you are waiting on your punishment, and you will continue to wait. I have had a long, hard day Myself. You are first going to suck My cock, just to take the edge off. Get up on your knees,” You order with strict authority.

“Yes, Sir.” I lift onto my knees, place my hands on Your hips, and position my face directly in front of your flaccid penis.

“No stalling. Make Me hard NOW!” I open my mouth, wrap my lips securely around the base of Your prick, and massage the head slowly with my tongue, circling it around, rolling it in my eager mouth. I feel the blood start to flow, and You begin to grow in my mouth. As You swell harder and harder, I clutch Your hips, rhythmically pumping Your cock in and out of my mouth.

You run Your fingers through my hair, entangling Your hands in my soft curls. You grasp my hair tightly at the roots, now taking control of my every movement. “Put your hands at your sides. I am going to fuck your face hard, and I expect no resistance!” I instantly comply, as I cannot verbally respond to Your order. For several minutes You force your swollen dick further into my compliant mouth. Your head pounds the back of my throat, effectively choking me with each thrust. You slow Your movements, and ease Your cock as deeply as possible past my lips, over my tongue, down my throat. I open my throat, and take you in completely.

“Get your hands around that cock!” You demand. I slip my tiny fists around Your saliva-soaked member, squeezing firmly with every thrust. I massage Your swollen prick expertly with my hands, lips, and tongue. I feel Your balls tight against Your body, Your cock hardening ever more. “Fuck, yeah, pussy kat. So good. Just suck that cock!”

Your hands still snarled in my hair, You face-fuck me hard, reaching the brink of orgasm. “Pound that cock. God, yes. Harder! Harder!” One last thrust, and You are there. You pull out of my mouth, and You begin to spew Your hot cum over my face and tits, my hands still wrapped firmly around Your throbbing cock, jacking You off all over my body. “Yes! Yes! That’s it! Fuck yes!”

After Your orgasm subsides, You order, “Lick me clean.”

Yes, Sir,” I eagerly respond, and make sure I have left no trace of cum on Your perfect cock.

“Go clean yourself up, then take your position.” I stand, step to the sink, wash Your cum off my face, breasts, belly. I reenter the room, fall back on my knees and forearms, and lower my head yet again.

“Now that we have taken care of me, it is time for your punishment . . .” I hear you walk into the closet, open the “toy chest”, and remove the hard leather strap and what sounds like the wooden paddle. I shudder with a mix of fear and anxiousness.

You return to the room and command that I count for You tonight. Standing by my side, Your hand comes in swift, hard contact with my right ass cheek. “One,” I begin. You rub my buttocks gently, then come down hard again. “Two,” I continue.

We proceed on, “Three.” “Four.” “Five.”

Upon reaching eleven, my rear is lightly rosy and already stinging.

You reach over and grab the strap. “Do not even think of moving, kat,” You order.

“Yes, Sir.” I would never dream of it.

“Begin counting anew,” You command.

The strap makes its first contact with my left globe. “One.” A bit harder, You swat my right cheek. “Two.” It continues through three, four, five, six, seven . . . At twenty, my ass is flame red, my eyes burning with tears, sweat glistening on my body.

We continue for several more swats. “Twenty-seven,” I hiss through clenched jaw.

SMACK – the strap cracks across my upper thighs. “Twenty-eight,” I cry out.

WHAP – the strap whips along my lower back. “Twenty-nine,” I whimper.

CRACK – You save the best for last. You slap the leather dead center across both cheeks with a force that takes my breath away. “Thirty,” I strain to exhale.

You toss the strap away nonchalantly. Look me over, admiring Your handiwork. My buttocks, thighs, lower back all blaze scarlet. You run your hands over my body, and I force myself not to recoil from the pain. “Now, what to do with you,” You ponder. “That ass looks so good, I may need to get a piece of it.”

You slip your hand between my thighs and delve into the river of juice flowing from my pussy. “Well, pussy kat, your body betrays you once again. You act like this all hurts, but your cunt just wants more, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir. It does.”

“You like to be spanked and whipped, don’t you, pussy?”

“Yes, Sir. I like it very much.”

Your fingers explore my insides, Your thumb flicks at my twat. I contract with every move You make.

During this whole punishment, Your penis becomes erect again. You bend over once more and grab the paddle. I am confused as to what transgression I performed to deserve that. Holding it in Your right hand, You smack it against Your left, audibly demonstrating the solidity of the wood. “I know you are wondering what the paddle is for, right? Do you recall Friday when we were on the phone, discussing what our plans would be for the evening? I said I wanted pizza, and you dared to reply, ‘Well we will just pick it up – I’m too exhausted to cook.’ Last I checked, it did not matter what you do or do not want. If I recall correctly, you have no say in what happens once your work day is over. I am the One who makes all decisions. And for overstepping your bounds and back-talking me, you will be further punished. I am going to pound my cock into that tight little pussy I so love, and swat your ass all along. I think fifteen spankings should do the trick.

I brace myself firmly into the floor, sweat dripping off my nose. You position Yourself behind me, Your prick at the entrance of my hot little hole. Your legs straddle mine, my knees pressed together. You lay the paddle across my back while grabbing both hips. “If the paddle falls off your back, I will add on another five spankings,” you instruct. You grasp Your dick in Your right hand, and guide Your thick log into my dripping slit. “My God you are wet, pussy kat. You just love to get spanked, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir. . . I love it Sir. . .” I struggle to speak. You slowly feed Your cock to my hungry opening, by body expanding to be filled by You. You begin to rhythmically slip in and out of my hole. I feel the paddle begin to slip as You increase speed.

After another eight thrusts, the paddle falls to the floor. You retrieve it and state plainly, “And now we have twenty.” You keep the paddle in hand, continuing to fuck me all the while. Moments later, I feel the first blow across my left cheek.

“One,” I begin. SMACK – “Two.” As before, we continue on with the counting. Your prick continues to slide in and out. I continue to leak pussy juice down Your dick and my thighs. Upon reaching eighteen, my legs are shaking, my shoulders feel as if they may give out, my beaten ass turning purple, my soaked cunt desperate to orgasm.

WHAP – “Nine . . . teen.”

CRACK – “Twenty,” I whisper. Tears stream down my face.

“What?” You ask.

“Twenty,” I struggle to speak audibly.

You toss the paddle to the side, lean over my back, Your arms on the floor beside me. You kiss my neck gently, and comment, “Mmmmm, salty.” I hear You smile.

I staved off my orgasm for nearly an hour. I request, voice quivering, “May I please cum, Sir.”

“No,” you flippantly reply, as I feel your cock pressing ever deeper into my pussy. You fuck me slowly and deeply for several minutes.

I again beg, “Please, please, Sir, may I please cum?”

“No,” you respond with a stronger voice.

With one last kiss on the shoulder, You return to Your knees and grab hold of my hips again. You remain steady as You rock me on and off Your throbbing cock. My arms remain glued to the floor, knees held fast, my thighs shaking. I feel you harden further, thickening inside my cunt. You are swiftly on the brink of orgasm, and I have fought mine off for over an hour. “God, PLEASE, Sir . . . please . . . may . . . I . . . cum????”

“NO, you MAY NOT!!!” You exclaim as Your orgasm rips through Your body and into mine. You pound my cunt relentlessly, as Your hot cum spews into my dripping pussy. You thrust until Your cock is empty.

You regain Your composure, withdraw from me, stand, and go to the bathroom to clean up. My body quakes from head to toe, still fending off my orgasm. You return and squat in font of me. “Remember, kat, last week when I gave you instructions before work? I told you that you needed to pleasure yourself before work, but you were not to reach orgasm. You were unable to complete the task, which we both know is unacceptable. You then asked if there was anything you could do to ‘make up for it’. I answered, ‘No.’ That should have ended the discussion.”

You continue, “Then the next morning, you decided upon yourself that you would follow the prior day’s instructions. You were awfully proud of yourself when you called to tell me what you did. I was less amused. But to make matters worse, you told Me, ‘I hope that makes up for failing yesterday.’”

“So, you directly disobeyed me. I said there was no way to counteract your failure, yet you did so anyway. I repeat, unacceptable. As a result, you do not get to cum today. The matter is now closed. Feel free to take your time cleaning up. Dinner will be on the table at 8:00. I will see you in twenty minutes.” You kiss me on the forehead, rise from the floor.

“You did well tonight, katrina. I am very proud of you,” You state simply, and you walk out the door.

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