It was over! I lowered the cane and moved forward to inspect my artistry and feel the heat of the raised welts with my hand. It was a perfect caning! It left a set of six parallel stripes across their bottom cheeks in a visually pleasing four inch bandwidth of burning crimson. They would be turning to a purple hue by the time I took them to my boudoir later that evening for our ‘Afterglow’ partyplay.
“You may rise!”
My two gifts to the Goddess Nemesis stood up from the punishment altar, tenderly exploring the stinging welts on their bottoms. Streaky lines of mascara marked the passage of tears down their faces.
I released them from their restraints and like a mother who comforts her children after scolding them, took them into my arms and held them tight as they began to sob in relief at the end of their ordeal.
Behind us, five Slutmaids stood hypnotized in fascinated silence. The scene had been arousing, too arousing for some! They had their slutcocks out of their satin knickers and were stroking each other feverishly. I would cane them in due course for such ‘slutruttish’ behaviour in my presence.
The ritual had brought me to my customary wetness of arousal. My throbbing cunt was now aching for the orgasmic release that I always need after such a ‘Domina High’ and power-surge engendered by a caning ritual upon the willing body of a submissive lover or Slutmaid. No caning is complete without that release and I knew that both Adelaide and Candy would soon be panting for my very personal attention! In confirmation, I felt the warm throb of Slutmaid Candy’s tumescent slutcock rub against my thigh. It was high time for ‘Afterglow’ partyplay! I would to take her now to my boudoir for Adelaide to milk that slutcock to its explosive release while I introduced Candy’s lovebutton to the pleasure of my thrusting dildo.
A sudden question crossed my mind. “Have you been ever been buttfucked?”
Candy looked down demurely and blushed. “No! Will it hurt?”
I smiled at her innocence and kissed her lightly. “Not with Mistress! She will be especially tender with her sore-bottomed slutvirgin!”
Candy knelt to my cunt and nuzzled at my moist lovelips.
“Take me darling Mistress! Take the rest of my slutbody and deflower me! I surrender myself to your will!”
A questing tongue flicked tentatively at my hooded pearl.
My intended ‘Afterglow’ had suddenly taken on an unexpected new dimension.
We were wasting good playtime! I led the two sore bottoms upstairs to my candlelit boudoir.
Ensconced upon the satin expanse of my boudoir Ottoman we made an interesting threesome. Adelaide and I had discarded our corsets, stockings and heels which lay in a jumbled heap on the silk carpet. Candy was kneeling to suck at Adelaide’s exposed pussy, tonguefucking her pink sweetness while frigging her aroused clit. Adelaide had her head between Candy’s knees and was fondling and sucking her dangling jewels and stroking that slutcock to heated erection. I stood behind Candy contemplating her striped slutcheeks and the inviting fuckbutton that was displayed so enticingly to the eight inch long dildo strapped to my thighs, its hidden alter-dildo gripped moistly tight within me by my powerful vaginal muscles.
Taking some lube, I applied it tenderly to Candy’s pink button. A responsive quiver racked her body and her virgin bud involuntarily opened in welcome. She squirmed to allow my probing finger to breach her virginal hole and delve deeper inside her. The slippery sucking of the Slutmaid’s anal muscles on my finger brought an anticipatory quiver of excitement to my cunt.
I caressed the tortured heat of Candy’s delectable slutcheeks for a moment, savouring the vision of my hot stripes now glowing upon her smooth twitching globes.
“Today, I gave you bottom pain!” I pressed my dildo’s knob to her exposed anal flower. “Now, I give you bottom pleasure!”
I thrust my shaft to pierce Candy’s weak defences. Her lubed button offered just token resistance, submitting gratefully to a new and thrilling sensation as I pressed home. I slid slowly, inexorably, inch by inch, into her sweet sluthole’s welcoming grip, forcing my stiff strength ever deeper into her enveloping slippery tightness. She moaned contentedly, luxuriating in the feeling of fullness within her engendered by my rigid weapon. She squirmed to accommodate the rampant beast, working her anal muscles to grip and massage it on its oiled journey, while Adelaide stroked her pulsing slutcock and fondled her warm plums. Finally I felt my lovelips slapping against the heat of her bruised slutcheeks. I had taken Candy’s slutvirginity.
I took my tawse and began to whip my Slutmaid’s splayed slutcheeks in time to my thrusting onslaught, cracking down left and right with overhand and backhand strokes to her responsive arse, stinging each already reddened cheek to an even deeper blush with the leather’s spanking kisses. Candy moaned in ecstasy, squirming excitedly to the stinging goad, her skewered slutbuns writhing to the rhythmic movement of my slapping leather and pumping thrust, her now hard slutcock facefucking Adelaide’s slurping mouth.
I started Candy at a slow trot, sliding into the tight silken embrace of her welcoming fuckbutton, then retreating until only the dildo’s mushroom head was held in her anal grip. I quickened my thrusts, slapping her haunches, spurring her on to a canter. Finally I flashed my tawse from one crimson cheek to the other, goading her into the frenzy of a galloping buttfuck.
“Aaah-ugh! Aaah-ugh! Aaah-ugh!”
Candy’s panting frenzy and gasping grunts of pleasure matched the thrusting rhythm of my dildo as I pumped deep into her gut while Adelaide deepthroated her hot slutcock.
She broke away for a moment from cunnysucking Adelaide.
“Fuck me! Suck me! Ride me! Break me to your bridle!”
We were each at full stretch now; my nostrils flaring in frenzied lust, as I spurred my slutmount to the ecstasy of her first thrilling bottomfuck while Adelaide bucked and writhed to Candy’s frenzied tonguing.
“Fuck my pinkie arsehole, Mistress! Suck my juicy lollycock, Adelaide! Roast me!”
We responded to her urgings. I fucked! Adelaide sucked!
I dropped the tawse and dug my talons into Candy’s writhing hips, thrusting ever faster and deeper in a wild fury, punching my cuntcock to the hilt. Adelaide slurped at the slippery hardness of Candy’s pumping slutcock. Candy felt me jerk to my peaking frenzy … my heated breath upon her neck … my panting grunts … my triumphant cry … and then my hot, spurting deluge of joycum over her buttocks and Adelaide’s upturned face as I melted in the squirting joy of an explosive orgasm. It was the signal for Candy to climax, spurting her cream of orgasmic joy in hot globules of slutcum over Adelaide’s face.
While my fuckbuddies lay totally spent, I tottered over to the wardrobe and exchanged my used dildo for Adelaide’s special favourite and returned to stimulate them both to new life. The night was young and so was I!
Adelaide parted her legs, spreading wide her pink labia to offer her clitoral pearl to me.
“Come, my darling Mistress! You need your Collarbaby after such an energetic night! Cum and collect your favourite pussyprize!”
She raised her pelvis. “Here it is, waiting for you to ride me. Bitch me! Bitch your Collarslut! Fuck me, darling! Remind me why I worship you so!”
I climbed onto her, sliding my cuntcock smoothly into her moistly welcoming hole. I pressed my lips to her open mouth, smothering her dirty talk, my tongue entwining with hers in serpentine embrace. I began to pump, thrusting our dildo deep, its thumping rhythm sending ripples of energy to my own insatiable lovehole. Adelaide squeezed her cunt muscles, gripping my weapon and massaging it with her juices as I thrust, withdrew and thrust again.
“Oh my darling Mistress! Fuck me to oblivion! Fuck your little slaveslut!”
She squirmed lasciviously beneath me, kneading my tits, twisting at my hard nipples, urging me on to yet another climax.
I rode my loveslave with hard, thumping frenzy now, the alter-dildo polishing my pearl to bring me to the high peak I so desperately needed after our sensual whipping scene.
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I felt a new, more powerful climax rising as Adelaide spurred me on with her guttermouthing.
“Fuck me, you dominating bitch! Ravish me! Cock-whip me to Elysium, you heavenly cunt-fucker. Tear my vagina! Harder! Harder!”
I tipped over the precipice in an explosive flash of orgasmic energy. I stopped her lips in passionate kiss; sucking, tonguing, biting, clawing at her heaving breasts as the joy coursed through me for the third time. It transmitted its energy to Adelaide pinioned beneath me. She quivered, shuddered and entwined her legs around me in a vice-like grip, joining me in her own flooding orgasm. Our lovejuices mingled in pulsing union.
I rose and discarded my dripping strap-on. It was time for us to rouse our rosy-cheeked Candy Slutbitch resting languidly beside us and educate her in the art of pearl diving.
Bodyguard
by Laurel Aspen
‘Get out of my way dammit, do you have any idea who I am?’
Blonde – well, from an expensive bottle at least – and tempestuous the struggling spitfire’s shrieks of protest shattered the expensive ambience of the exclusive prêt a porter emporium.
‘Yes ma’am, I do, you’re Columbia Walker, but I’m afraid it makes no difference.’ The Paul Smith be-suited floorwalker remained impressively calm under verbal fire.
‘Of course it makes a goddamn difference. I’m not an ordinary shopper, not one of the little people, the usual rules don’t apply; I was simply taking the items to try on in a more secluded changing area.’
‘That’s not what our cameras show ma’am.’
‘What cameras? I face cameras when I’m paid to and at no other time.’
‘Our in-store CCTV security screens clearly revealed you heading for the door with no intention of paying for those goods…’
‘It’s customary for stars to be loaned items to wear to wear at the Oscars, you fool.’
‘Maybe, but it ain’t our custom and I’m going to have to call the police.’
‘Hey, what’s goin’ on?’ A second man intervened.
‘Jon, thank goodness; tell this moron here to let me go immediately.’
‘What’s the problem, Ms Walker?’
‘Problem? It’s not a problem, it’s an outrage; this oaf is accusing me of shoplifting!’
‘OK buddy what’s the story, hey you’re…’
‘I don’t believe it, Jon.’
‘Frank!’
‘Jeez what a place to meet.’
‘Long time, man.’
‘And some.’
‘When you two are through with old home week perhaps someone might like to explain how come you’re so obviously acquainted.’ The woman’s sarcasm was biting.
‘Both ex-airborne, Ms Walker,’ explained Jon.
‘Served in the Gulf together,’ agreed Frank heartily, ‘plus a few other places Uncle Sam’d rather we didn’t discuss. Hell this guy saved me from losing an arm one time.’
‘Hey it wasn’t that dramatic buddy,’ responded Jon with characteristic modesty, ‘look, how ’bout we go somewhere and sort this out?’
‘I shouldn’t, but, well I guess if you’re working for Ms Walker…’
‘He’s my personal security operative,’ spat the otherwise attractive young woman angrily, ‘and had he been paying attention this might never…’
‘Ahem, if you’d like to go into that office there,’ suggested Frank diplomatically.
Columbia flounced angrily across the floor and the two men followed, talking quietly. ‘Sheesh, she always seemed real nice in her films, when’d she turn into ball breaking bitch of the decade?’ queried Frank.
‘About six months back,’ replied Jon, still smarting at his boss’s public put down.
‘How long you worked for her man?’
‘I guess around 18 months, started off a good gig, like you say she use to come on pretty much as she appeared in the movies,’ said Jon.
‘But?’
‘Two Hollywood blockbusters in succession; megabucks followed by a hoard of fawning sycophants. Miss Superstar here started to believe the studio publicity about her was the real deal,’ sighed Jon wearily.
‘Kinda “Day of the Locust” for the new millennium’ suggested Frank.
‘Very perceptive as ever my friend,’ Jon replied. ‘Yeah Columbia began comin’ on like a spoilt child an’ when the next movie turned out to be a turkey she threw the longest hissy fit LA’s every seen.’
‘Then publicity like this she don’t need.’ averred Frank.
‘Meaning?’ Jon smiled, as if he could already guess the answer.
‘Meanin’ firstly that I owe you one for bailing me out when that Chinook went down…’
‘And?’
‘This job sucks man, it was meant to be a temp thing but I’ve been here nine month, this lousy shoppin’ mall’s suckin’ the life outta me,’ Frank sounded tired.
‘What do you need?’
‘Always the sharp one,’ Frank nodded approvingly, ‘I’ll cut straight to the chase. I ain’t greedy man. Twenty grand buys me a share in pal’s scuba diving school off Key West. Sort me out in cash and you an’ Shirley Temple can hit the exit with the security video tape long before management starts asking questions.’
‘Frank, you’re a star but I’m gonna haggle with you,’ began Jon. ‘No,’ he raised a hand to still his erstwhile buddy’s objection. ‘Cheap at twice the price, I won’t settle for a dollar less than $40,000, little Ms Moneybags won’t even notice it, I’ve seen her spend that much on shoes.’
‘Well thank god you got finally got your sloppy act together at the 11th hour.’ Columbia was darting angrily around her Laurel Canyon A frame, high heels clattering on the beech parquet, a tight pencil skirt forcing her to take short rapid steps.
Jon leant his six-foot frame against the doorjamb and did some breathing exercises to slow his rising heart beat and stay calm. Although neither as tall nor as broad as his erstwhile comrade in arms, the now Florida-bound store detective, Jon Bradley, corn-fed American boy, was every inch a former soldier. Underneath the neat denim shirt and chinos he packed some serious power. Not gym-pumped steroid bulges but long sinewy muscles, twelve stone of strength and stamina matched by a mind which had put him a whole different ball park from the average grunt. A former bodyguard to Jack Nicholson and Angelica Houston, Jon was usually professionally geared to tactfully avoid conflict, but right now he’d had enough.
‘Shut up!’ He raised his voice only slightly but the icy tone was enough to momentarily halt Columbia’s self-regarding rambles.
‘First of all you deliberately gave me the slip like some silly little kid playing truant.’
‘Hey I…’ Columbia’s indignant interjection was cut off with a single withering look.
‘Second I do not get off on having my professionalism publicly undermined. Grow up girl, start being accountable for your own actions; you got yourself into that situation not me.’
Columbia gasped; an uncomfortable jolt of truth gnawed at her stomach; prudently, if wholly uncharacteristically, for once she didn’t interrupt.
‘Thirdly you have gone from a smart, sassy indy movie star to winner of the Joan Crawford award for solipsism; head so far up your too-often kissed ass you’ve no longer any perspective on the outside world or consideration for us mere mortals who inhabit it.’
‘You can’t talk to me like that,’ yelled Columbia relocating her inner shrew and finally finding her shrill voice, ‘you’re fired.’
‘Lady, I quit,’ Jon’s voice was dangerously quiet, ‘but before I go I’m gonna try and stop the rot, do you a favour and above all get me some recompense for the last six months of hell.’
‘What do you mean? Get away, don’t touch me.’ The look of determination on Jon’s face had Columbia scared. Silently he strode towards her and grabbed her wrist.
‘No,’ she screamed pathetically holding up her hands, ‘don’t damage my face.’
‘Oh you don’t have to worry ’bout that pre
tty face,’ Jon said grimly. ‘If you’d taken the trouble to understand me as well as I do you, you’d know I never beat up on a woman in my life. I was raised by a single mom and taught respect. Pity your ’60s liberal hippy parents didn’t do the same. ‘However,’ he added, plonking himself onto an uncomfortably modern and angular chair and pulling her over his lap, ‘I intend to make a small exception.’
‘Let me go!’ Columbia screeched in horror as his intention suddenly became plain.
‘Who’s gonna make me?’ asked Jon, savouring the humour of his erstwhile employer’s situation, ‘the bodyguard?’
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ whined the supine star, scarily certain she already knew.
‘I know exactly what I’m at,’ growled Jon, lifting her slender frame effortlessly from the floor and pinning her face down, struggling and kicking, over his knee.
‘You wouldn’t,’ her voice tried for a coquettish, pleading tone, ‘dare spank me?’
‘Oh yes I would,’ Jon confirmed happily, ‘this spoilt butt is overdue for a thorough tanning, a whole galaxy of waiters, maids, directors, agents, fellow actors and fans deserve to witness this comeuppance, but sadly only I have the privilege.’
‘Get off, this is assault, I’ll report you, I’ll sue,’ Columbia was frantic; she’d never yet encountered a man she couldn’t wheedle her way around.
‘Like I care, like anyone will believe you,’ he laughed, ‘and anyway the National Enquirer will have a field day. I can see the headline now: “Film Star gets her ass whipped.” Great chance to test the theory that any publicity is good publicity.’
‘No!’ yelled Columbia despairingly, legs flailing, head down and bum uppermost as Jon wrestled her tight skirt up around her still enviably trim 24 inch, 24 year old waist.
‘Legs to beat the band,’ mused the ex-soldier as he skilfully dodged those lethal flailing stiletto heels. Her perfect peach of a carefully dieted, personally trained bum was currently sheathed in sheer grey tights and ivory coloured panties. Which, it transpired as Jon’s hand began the first of many impacts, loudly and firmly across her rippling moons, held her buttocks perfectly in position but offered no protection at all.
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