by Kalen Laurel
Then he looked up at me. “Have you ever spanked your partner?” he asked me in a more lighthearted tone.
My eyes probably bugged out. I know for a fact that my cock chose this particular instant to separate the robe and project itself into the room for everyone to view.
“No. I haven’t had the pleasure,” I managed.
I was so hard it practically hurt, and not only was I no longer ashamed or embarrassed, I realized that, as Sam continued his lesson over the next few minutes, I was actually enjoying the feeling of having my raging hard-on visible to the women in the room.
“Our incorrigible young lady needs a little spanking as punishment for her thoughts,” Sam finished. He then released Heather’s other hand from the “X”, soothed her shoulder muscles, relieving the tension before he indicated she was to use both hands to hold onto a lower section of the “X” and stand slightly away from it, somewhat bent over. He then began to position me properly for the task. “So, Jack, if you’ll slide your hand underneath her abdomen to support her…” He pantomimed the suggested position for my hand. “I suggest sliding your middle finger inside her, for reasons you’ll understand shortly.”
My heart almost skipped a beat! I was already excited to be touching Heather in such an intimate way, but wiggling my finger back and forth a few times to wet my fingertip and slide it into her tight, wet pussy was simply incredible. I felt her shudder before she let out a little gasp of pleasure.
Thwack!
I jumped, startled both by the sound of Sam’s hand against Heather’s ass cheek and the feel of her body flinching as her vagina seized around my finger.
“There will be none of that, young lady,” he snapped. “You will not show your pleasure until—and if—we tell you to.”
Sam then turned to me. “I apologize for intervening, but I knew you were not yet prepared to handle her, and our Heather would be more than happy to exploit that advantage.” He ran his finger along her cheek and turned her face to him briefly with a tug of his finger. “Won’t you, Heather?”
His hand had left a red mark on her pristine, white ass cheek, and without thinking about it, I ran my fingers over the area as if my touch would heal it.
She jumped slightly. It obviously still stung.
“Now, Jack, you should make it clear you’re not happy about her making it look as if you were not in control. This is the one situation here at the club where ‘no’ does not mean ‘no’. As I said, Heather’s safeword is ‘Pickle’. If she uses that word, you should immediately stop everything. Otherwise you can continue no matter how much she might protest.”
He nodded at her rear. “Give her a nice, firm swat for starters.”
I raised my hand and brought it down on her, but realized immediately that my effort was less than satisfactory.
Slap.
“You’ll have to show a little more authority than that, Jack.” He pushed Heather’s chin gently to stop her from looking around again. “Hold on to her tight, and give her a good hard swat.”
Slap.
It sounded better that time, but I knew I wasn’t there yet.
“Harder again, Jack. Make her squirm.”
“Oh, she’s squirming all right,” I answered, a grin crossing my face. She was alternately clenching and relaxing her vagina around my finger, her juices were running down my hand, and her breathing was fast and shallow.
“Yes, Heather is not well behaved in that way. She needs to be taught patience and, from the look of her, I suspect you’re going to be treated to another infraction within the next few minutes.” He reached for a neatly folded, white terrycloth towel that was sitting on a side table. “And you’ll notice her breathing is somewhat labored. Remember that the corset is restricting her lung capacity, so she’ll likely feel very light-headed and might even faint at orgasm.”
“Is that okay?”
“Oh, yes. Women often say their orgasms are improved when corseted.” He slid a hand underneath her chest and gently fondled her breasts as he spoke. Her head rolled from side to side and she continued to clench herself around my finger. “I think it’s time we just send our little Heather over the edge and allow everyone to witness just how powerfully she can come.”
Sam looked around the room and I attempted to follow his gaze. One of the attractive older women immediately in front of us was being masturbated by her husband as she watched the proceedings, although, from the direction of her gaze, she might have been enjoying the sight of my erection as much as the training. A single man in the back of the room was stroking himself while watching the couple in front of him fondle each other. I couldn’t see everyone from my vantage point, but it seemed as if the entire room was on the verge of climax; some people had intense stares, others seemed beyond the point of focusing.
“Okay, Jack. You need to show Heather, and everyone in the room, that you’re able to exact the proper punishment for her insubordination.” He mimicked the action of spanking with each infraction he enumerated. “One for failing to keep her eyes forward, a couple for squirming to stimulate herself, a good hard one for revealing her pleasure, and—as she comes—a continued series of powerful slaps to give us all a lasting memory of our night together.”
He smiled, but the look was a bit dark. He was clearly enjoying this.
He shifted his position to be closer to the action, towel in hand.
For the first time in my life, I lifted my hand with the intention of blistering a woman’s bottom.
Crack!
She gasped, and her vagina sucked my finger deep into the warm, wet place my stiff cock ached to penetrate, while my thumb brushed lightly over her swollen clitoris.
Slap!
Slap!
Her entire body quaked, and her knees buckled slightly. For several seconds, I was supporting her completely with the hand that was under her wet, slippery crotch. And rather than tightening around my finger as had earlier, her vagina seemed to be stretching, opened and exposed.
Even as my mind registered these seemingly disparate events, my other hand swung downward for the “good hard one” I’d been challenged to administer.
Thwack!
A sharp intake of breath.
My hand started down again for Heather’s finale, and it was only later that I would assemble the pieces of this climatic event into a view of sexuality that I still carry with me.
Swat!
A low moan of pleasure began.
Slap!
A shudder.
Swat!
Her hot fluid gushed against my fingers and down her inner thighs.
Thwack!
Her low moan of pleasure filled the room and moved us all.
She grew quiet, and after a while her orgasm subsided, but her legs began to buckle.
Sam stepped forward and pressed the towel between her legs with one hand while guiding me to move around and loosen some of the corset ties. Only then did the beautiful Heather take her hands off the “X” and rest them on my shoulders, relaxing her head against my chest while she trembled in my arms.
“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered.
I hugged her tight, massaged her shoulders, and then kissed her gently on the forehead. “No. I should thank you.”
Sam and I lowered Heather into a chair vacated by one of our observers while he summed up what had transpired.
“Experts can’t seem to come to any solid conclusions about female ejaculation, but I can tell you that thirty-five to fifty percent of women surveyed have reported expelling a clear, saline fluid while orgasming. Some men find it off-putting, but most I’ve talked to who have partners that ‘squirt’ or ‘gush’, as they often call it, find it an incredible enhancement to their sexual encounters.” He stood behind Heather and gently pulled her hair back into her barrette while he talked. “Tony doesn’t wish her to be broken of this particular habit.” He looked down at her and smiled. “I guess they’ll just have to buy stock in a terry cloth company and go with the flow.�
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She wrinkled her nose and smiled cutely.
“So, Jack,” Sam said after a pause and a breath. He looked down at the front of my robe, drawing good-natured chuckles from several of the remaining observers. “I seem to remember an unfinished piece of business from a little earlier.”
In the aftermath of Heather’s climax, I focused so hard on making her comfortable while listening to Sam’s description of her gushing that I lost much of my erection, and the chuckles didn’t help. I smiled and made some comment about merely being happy to have had the opportunity to help train her.
“Well, I think Heather might be a little disappointed if she didn’t have an opportunity to thank you properly. Isn’t that true, Heather?”
Heather was unable to suppress a slight smile. “Yes, Sir.”
“And we’ve been working on another skill, haven’t we?” he asked her, in the tone one might expect between a teacher and his student.
She nodded enthusiastically, her smile wide and her eyes playful.
“Why don’t you assume the position, and Jack can decide if he’d like to avail himself of the service you’re offering.” He carefully folded a new towel into several layers and placed it in front of me. Then he stepped to her and very formally offered his hand to help her stand up, after which he stepped back into the shadows of the room like a proud parent.
Heather walked forward until she was standing over the towel, and then addressed me shyly. “If you please, Sir, this is something I do for your enjoyment, and for mine as well.” She took a deep breath and then looked up at me, staring directly into my eyes, smiling sweetly as she spoke. “You were indeed my choice, Sir. And this is likewise my choice. Please allow me to service you.”
With that, Heather kneeled on the towel in front of me, tilted her head back to look up at me, winked at me with a devilish little smile, then closed her eyes and opened her mouth.
And my cock began to rise.
She was just angelic and sexy as hell. I stepped closer, brushed my fingers through her hair, and smoothed an errant eyebrow back into place, as if I could improve perfection.
I felt myself closing in on a full erection, and I looked around at the observers who remained in the room, amazed their presence wasn’t bothering me. True, some seemed occupied with their own interactions, but even the ones paying attention to us seemed to be silently rooting for a Hollywood ending.
I removed my robe and turned to toss it back onto an empty chair, and when I looked around again, Heather’s eyes were focused on my cock. She looked up at me with her playful smile and licked her lips as I turned back into position, directly in front of her face.
She blew on the tip and opened her mouth, but I was going to savor this moment, and I knew with certainty that a night of naked women and sexual fantasy meant it wouldn’t take very long for this beautiful, young woman to bring me to climax. I tapped her nose with the tip, and it left a tiny drop of pre-cum behind. She wrinkled her nose and reached up to rub it.
“Hmmm…that tickles,” she purred.
“I’d like to tickle you.” A big smile rewarded my reply. “But right now I want your sweet lips around my cock.”
She cast her eyes down again—something I was finding especially endearing.
I removed her barrette, causing her full, blonde hair to fall onto her shoulders. I then rubbed myself against her cheek, her forehead, through her hair. And I watched her turn her head in an attempt to follow my cock with her mouth, playfully extending her tongue to taste it. Instead, I gently smacked it against her cheek in admonition. Finally, I circled around to her mouth and placed the tip between her lips.
Heather’s silky-smooth, pink lips circled me, and she reached up with both hands to cup my balls and pulled me deeper into her mouth. She wrapped her lips tightly around the shaft and slowly pulled off me, and then repeated the process.
Jeezus, she was good!
I held her by her temples and marveled at the length of her eyelashes, her big eyes, and her high cheekbones. She glanced up at me shyly, testing to see if it was acceptable for her to look me in the eyes from her current position. “Heather, look at me.” Just as I wanted to see Marie’s orgasm as it crossed her eyes, I wanted Heather to see mine.
As she gazed up at me, she had one hand wrapped around the base of my cock, the other held my scrotum, and she was guiding me in and out of her mouth with increasing frequency. I almost felt as though I was fucking her mouth rather than having my cock sucked.
“Oh, my God!”
If I wanted to make this experience last, I should have been thinking about the Queen rather than watching Heather service me because I could already feel my orgasm rising inside me.
And she knew it. She looked up at me again and, without slowing, smiled around the shaft.
My fingertips stretched through her silky hair and grabbed around the back of her skull, truly giving me the feelings of total possession and total control of an incredibly beautiful and talented young woman.
She tightened her hand around the shaft and began to stroke while tightening her lips closer to the tip. I pulled my hands away from her and arched my back, thrusting myself deeper down her throat and fighting to hold my orgasm at bay.
Fuck!
If I was not in heaven, I was certainly in the neighborhood.
I knew I couldn’t last much longer, and it dawned on me that one of the club rules I’d signed upon entry said that men are expected to warn their partner before orgasm, thereby allowing them to take whatever action they might deem appropriate.
“Heather…”
She pressed her tongue against the bottom of the shaft. Hard. And she ran her hand up the length until she had to pull her mouth off to continue. I had no idea if she intended to swallow my semen; I wanted to do the right thing in front of my audience.
“I’m…”
Her eyes locked with mine. She took me deep into her mouth and down her throat in one smooth thrust and began to draw her lips and hand up the shaft and off again.
She ran her tongue around the tip, stroked my length once more, and massaged my balls lovingly.
“So…close.”
Heather smiled, nodded slightly, and then pulled away. “Please give it to me, Sir.”
She returned her lips to my cock and closed them around the tip before sucking me into her mouth. She rapidly bobbed up and down three times. I grabbed the back of her head again and matched her efforts, thrusting deep down her throat.
She squeezed her hands and I felt my cum rising, heading to the tip of my cock. She opened her mouth, holding me still, signaling me to come in her mouth.
“Ahhh…” I pushed my cock to the back of her throat, watching carefully to see if I was gagging her or robbing her of air. Her throat constricted around me, sucking me further inside.
Finally, I pushed her head away and the first spasm spurted against her face.
She dove at my cock with her open mouth and trapped the second spurt with her tongue. She then wrapped her lips around my still pulsating cock and sucked the remains of my orgasm from me while looking deep into my eyes.
My warm, sticky juices streaked through her hair and ran down her cheeks.
She smiled.
I smiled.
She continued to hold my cock, gently squeezing it as the spasms diminished. She licked the tip, and then smacked her lips.
“You’re incredible, and beautiful to watch,” I said when I could finally compose myself.
“Thanks. That was fun, Sir.”
“You need another towel,” I smirked at her.
Sam stepped forward and handed one to her, and a few folks applauded in appreciation before rising to leave. He motioned me aside and said quietly, “Looked to me like you quite enjoyed yourself tonight, and probably discovered some new aspects about yourself. We have numerous resources at the Club, so feel free to contact us if you need more information. An education in dominance is vital if you’re to be successful in this li
festyle.”
“Thank you. I’ll definitely take you up on that offer,” I commented, gratefully.
“Feel free to call the main number for the club and ask for me. I’m Sam.”
I thanked him again and moved back to face Heather.
“I’ll never forget this night, Heather.”
She wrinkled her face and tilted her head to the side with a shrug of her shoulders that made her look so sweet; my heart just melted.
“I won’t forget it either, Sir.”
Body Paint
There I stand. Stark naked in the middle of a town square, my breasts and vagina completely exposed, dozens of completely clothed men and women of all ages and descriptions passing or pausing several yards—and sometimes just a few feet—from me with intense stares or curious glances, yet not one of them makes a comment or seems particularly alarmed.
It feels fucking awesome!
I've dreamt about doing this; once I even confided in a friend when I was perhaps fourteen. My breasts had just filled out, and thoughts of them, and the new feelings I was experiencing between my thighs, seemed to occupy every waking hour. At first it seemed my friend shared the same dreams, but eventually I realized they were, for her, a product of anxiety that left her drenched with sweat and shivering from fear while they drove me to furious masturbation toward an as yet unrealized orgasm.
I've obsessed over this. While my friends jerked their boyfriends off in the backseat of cars and allowed them to put their hands up their shirts and inside their pants to avoid being exposed, I was stripping naked in the passenger seat of an older guys's convertible and insisting that he take me for a midnight drive through the countryside with my hair blowing back and my legs spread wide to feel the wind against my skin and his eyes on my silky pubes.
I've risked arrest and public humiliation over this. More than once I ventured out of my parents house and into the night with nothing more than darkness and stealth hiding my nudity. Sometimes I walked for miles with my shoulders back and my breasts thrust forward as if demanding that someone notice, or willing some man to lower his hand to his erection from just a brief glimpse of my smooth, young body. I'd duck behind a tree or bush at the sound of a dog's bark or to evade the headlights of an oncoming car and feel my heart pounding in my chest while crouching there in the darkness.