by David Saxon
“No … o ... o!” She pushed her breast into my cupping hand. The erect nipple pressed hard into my palm. I was discovering the pathways and valleys of her very seductive body and it was becoming a very pleasant journey.
“You silly bitch! Why have you deprived yourself of such pleasure? Was it a vicious denial to punish your husband for some perceived wrong?” Into her bewildered silence I shouted. “Well, now, bitch, I am going to rip you from that stupid life you have been leading. I am going to force you to be submissive and obedient. I am going to train you so that you will become a real wife, a sexual thing to please your husband. You will submit!”
“No bloody way! Submit to that bastard? Who do you think I am?” She wailed pitifully as I slapped her face. She burst into tears. After a long moment in which I indulged her she looked up into my silence “No! You don’t ... oh!” She shook her wet head then went on. “Oh … I didn’t understand!” She was panting hard with the emotion of the moment.
That was a start anyway. “Your mother, your friends, did you never talk to them about it?”
She shook her head more violently. Her hair flew about her face and droplets of cold water sprayed me. “Not with my mother, no. With friends it was a ...”
“...bit of a joke, eh, ‘cos they were as stupid as you?” “Oh … oh … I am so sorry!”
“Oh, Kerry,” I was jeering at her, “you will be.”
“Are you threatening me?” A spark of fire.
I squeezed hard on her nipples. “I shall be making much more of those soon.”
“Ouch!” She smiled then wanly from behind the curtain of her hair “Promise?” Another sudden U-turn! Is there no limit to the fickleness of women? It always astounded me how contradictory was human nature.
I ignored her. This was a sudden volte-face about which I was not fully convinced. “Whether you will like it or not remains to be seen.” I was angered by the evident pose in her insincerity.
How I hate to see women wearing trousers, especially tight ones. Oh yes, they make a really sweet ball of the bottom and that makes it respond eagerly to the swish of the cane but, for all that, I hate jeans with a passion. Women are meant to wear skirts. Their figures demand it. I have a real yen for Edwardian dresses.
Impractical they might be but devastatingly sexy they certainly were. Just to lay a woman so clothed over your lap and then work your way through those skirts and petticoats until cotton clad buttocks are revealed is a real exercise in prolonged titillation. I unclasped the waist-band of her jeans and pulled the dreadful things over her flaring hips and down to her ankles. They clung wetly and, very neatly, hobbled her.
Now was the time for a little more adventure. From a heavy toolbox, standing on the floor in a corner, I removed a scalpel and came towards her, letting its blade glint in the subdued light.
“My God, you’re not going to cut me … not my face ... not my face!” There was genuine terror etched into her face.
“Don’t be stupid. What? D’you think me a barbarian?”
“Please don’t!” She cried out in horror. Was she imagining a moment of vicious blood-letting? I really didn’t know what was in her mind. I stood close in front of her holding the scalpel sideways at arm’s length. I pressed myself into her and worked my hips to rub my crotch against her so that she could feel my hardness. I smiled into her face. “You’ve a nice taste in underwear, woman. Aubade, isn’t it?” I buried my nose into her cleavage, savouring the warmth and the softness and the scent of the flesh. “You got that right, girl, such tits should be well displayed.” She was shaking like a leaf. I stroked naked flesh, taking the time to calm her down. After a few moments her breathing eased to a scented pant and she was as ready as she’d ever be for the next step in my domination. Her heartbeat had lessened to a gentle rhythm. I swung the scalpel towards her, pulled the bra away from between those her gorgeous orbs and deftly cut the narrow piece of embroidery between the cups. Those delicious breasts fell only very slightly. They had little need of the support of a bra. Their shape was beautifully rounded and full, perhaps a mite too heavy but, for all that, her well-toned musculature supported them magnificently. Her nipples pointed outwards and upwards with inviting insolence.
Captivated, I lavished hot, amorous kisses on them. I was resonating with erotic vibrations and licked the supple skin avidly, enjoying the build-up of my excitement. She was quivering like the strings of a harp, pressing her tits into my eager lips and hands. I could willingly have nursed and played with them for a long languid time but I had other things to do. Kerry smiled as I stepped back a pace. There was hot challenge in her eyes. Not like yesterday’s contempt, prepared then as she was to fight for what she foolishly saw as her honour. No, that was gone. This was a deep and more demanding challenge daring me not to take her now that she was hot and up for it. She had overcome her fear and was drunk with delight. Her hazel eyes were hot-laden with unspent pleasure.
“Don’t you sneer at me, Kerry!” I was not yet ready to yield, not even an inch, to her unspoken demands. I drew the scalpel down and, wrenching at the waistband of her knickers, sliced them down to the gusset. They were a beautiful confection of sheerest silk and decorated with the finest lace to match her bra. The cut material whispered as it slid down the length of her smooth legs to join the folds of her jeans. “Lift your left foot.” I ordered and knelt to remove them. “Now lift the right foot.” I dragged off both jeans and knickers leaving her deliciously naked save for the ruined blouse and bra hanging from her shoulders. I took those off by simply cutting them away with the scalpel. I was not yet ready to release her from the handcuffs.
“That was expensive underwear, you bastard!”
“I know but ... well ... why should I care? I have much more to worry about than your precious flimsies. Do you know,” I asked conversationally, “I think there is something obscene in a woman like you, coarse and crude and violent and mean, wearing such soft and seductive lingerie …”
“No!” She shouted and her voice cracked. She shook her head firmly. “I am none of those horrible things. I’m not!” She stamped a bare foot.
“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”
“What do you mean?” Even as she asked the question her eyes widened with the dawning of the truth. “Did my husband arrange this?”
“At my insistence, yes.” “You’re in…”
“I didn’t like your behaviour. Now shut up!”
Her mouth clamped shut in a tight line at my sudden vehemence.
Her pubic hair was the same colour as the hair on her head. I liked that piece of honesty. The extended V of it reached almost up to her waist and spread over her thighs. It was a neat thicket and infinitely sexy. I had never seen such a dense mat on any other woman and I had seen many. Thank goodness she hadn’t had it plucked to a pathetic landing strip to fit her bikini. I nuzzled into that extended pubic hair, pressing my face into the bulge of her slightly sagging tummy. The action stifled any more of her talking. Her flesh was soft so that I felt as if I was drowning in it, suffocating in that pliant cool skin. I pulled myself away from the torment of soft, downy skin and lustrous curls, reminding myself that I disliked excessive fat. It suggests a slackness of mind and want of self-respect. It infers arrogance in the assumption of her perfection. Clearly part of my severe regime was to cause her to lose that little bit of fat and to make her realise she was obligated to keep herself physically attractive to her husband. Dominic, I knew, despised obesity.
“When did you last let your husband fuck you?”
Her pussy lips were thick and dark on a prominent mons veneris neatly crafted into her crutch with fine contour. Her clitoris, an oversized little boatman, protruded from the upper part of her closed lips as if searching for the pleasure of the cock.
“Whenever he wanted...”
“Liar! When? The truth now.”
I stepped menacingly towards her. “I will beat those beautiful tits hard if you lie to me again.”
That threat frightened her. She bit her lower lip with pearly teeth. “Oh… oh he … not since Julie was born...”
“What? Seven … eight years?”
“T … ten!” She wailed. “But he never wanted to...”
“Oh yes he did! He did want to but you kept fobbing him off until he got tired of asking, you sodding bitch! Ten years … Christ! I suppose you were getting it somewhere else.”
“No … no … I...” She cowered from my raised hand. “Yes … yes … my...” “Incest?” I shouted, deliberately misinterpreting her.
“Ahh … no!” Her horror was genuine. I was beginning to get a glimpse of the girl beneath as I stripped away the veneers of self-delusion with which she had enveloped and protected herself. My God! Is this creature scared of her own shadow? Getting into her personality was like peeling an onion and there would be, I was sure, plenty of tears yet to come.
“Cutting off your nose to spite your face, eh? How stupid is that?” I was enjoying the process of breaking her in. “Kerry you must understand that a man needs a woman for the comfort she can give him; for the love she should give him and for the body she must offer him. Don’t you see that without these three obligations there is no reason for marriage? Why should a man commit himself to an ungenerous, mercenary woman? Why should Dominic commit himself to a living hell of your making?” I spoke loud and fast, brooking no interruption. “Where the hell do you think it’ll get you? You’ll become a shrewish bitch and, finally, an unloved old crone pungently farting her way to the grave. Is that what you want? If so I’ll let you go now and stew in your own juice. If not then you stay the course.” I gave her no time to consider. The shock of what I had just told her had hit home and she was limp in the recognition of her miserable behaviour.
I released the cuffs and manoeuvred her easily to a position backed against the wall where a number of thick leather straps were bolted to the whitewashed brickwork. In a trice I had a strap buckled about her waist. Cinched tight she was pressed against the cold brickwork. She winced at the shock of it but otherwise made no protest. I then spread her arms sideways to strap them in place. I stooped and pulled her legs as far apart as possible and strapped them in position. The stretching of her legs in a wide inverted V opened her cuntal lips so that I got a sniff of her womanly scent. I ignored it and got to my feet to put the final strap around her forehead, completing her bondage. She was absolutely immobile. What a sight she made! Her wet body was glistening with pent up passions. She looked at me with pleading eyes. I knew what she wanted, of course, but no, I did not intend to fuck her right there and then. That would consummate the day and leave me with no reserve to continue taunting her. I will not commit such a travesty and injustice on a body so beautiful. There is the additional point that it might also be a small form of delicious torment and to torment her was the greatest part of my stock in trade. I needed to see the heights of her passionate nature. There was hunger in her eyes as they followed me.
I went to a row of hooks screwed to the wall from which hung a number of useful pieces of equipment all of which I intended to use upon her. I settled, for a start, on the cat-of-nine-tails. She had to learn absolutely who was boss. I shook out the tails, thinking how I might use it upon her on a daily basis. The bloody woman deserved it.
“Noooo … Don’t hurt me, please!” Her words ended on a scream.
“You remember the lass strapped to the saltire? Remember we talked and how you had laughed? Oh, I know it was nervous laughter. Perhaps it was that that excited you? Did you want to be in her position...?” “No!” she sobbed. “I ...I don’t know.” I could smell the scent of her apprehension and felt nourished by it. I stroked the tails over her body enjoying her fear. The heightening delight of my own arousal my throbbing manhood straining to grow ever larger in the imprisonment of my pants, distracted me so that I could do no more than land a few gentle strokes across her breasts.
The scent of her, the opening of her delicious nether lips and the pleadings from her seductively pouting mouth conspired to weaken my resolve and to betray me. Without a word she had me on my knees. I drew towards her so that my eyes were staring directly at her arousing pussy. Without pause I dived forward into the enthralling odorous wetness, my tongue extended like a dagger parted the flowering folds. Between my lips I took her clitty, fully as big as a man’s thumb and sucked it into my mouth, feeling her jerk and cry out with the joy of it. I pulled at it hard, bit down on it with my teeth and quickly aroused her to what, I was sure, were levels of excitement she had seldom or never before experienced. If that was so it was a sorry omission that needed to be corrected immediately. Kerry had to know the joys that her own body, properly titillated, could give her. I released her clitty from my lips just as she was building up to an eager climax, leaving my nose to continue the contact while my lips covered her entire pussy and my tongue trace the interior, probing deeper and deeper. I listened to her cries of sheer pleasure and from them my own pleasure heightened. Hot gathering juices flowed upon my tongue as with parted lips I penetrated to the very core of her being. I tugged gently at her cuntal lips and lapped up her flowing essence. It poured over my tongue and down my throat. She shuddered gigantically and cried out in the bliss of absolute indulgence.
I lapped with deep searching strokes, lunging into the burning heat and glancing upwards towards her wondrous breasts flushed with the excesses of her excitement. Lost she was in the emotions that raged through her; the fiery passion that burned brightly and brought her to new heights of complete fulfilment. I sensed that she was fighting the feelings that raged within her though the flesh of her palpitating thighs told another story. She was in an agony the full charge of which I had yet to understand. I kissed her again, pressing my face into the luscious carpet of her pubis, eager to receive the final climactic explosion of juices that would be heralded by her cries and by the straining movements she made against the tight straps. Then she erupted. She cried out. “Aaaaaaah...!” Every muscle in her body tensed so that she quivered like a bow-string. She tasted hot and sweet like warmed cherry jam. I was shivering, tense in the intensity of muscular spasm. My cock was threatening to explode with the denial I forced upon it. I sweated hard to restrain myself from simply ramming it into her. The denial was a harsh lesson for Kerry too. Unfulfilled passion can be salutary in its withholding. I teased her by releasing my cock from its imprisonment.
“Fuck me … fuck me ... Oooooh, for mercy’s sake fuck me!” She stared at my burgeoning weapon, licking her lips and crying with frustration.
At last, slowly, she collapsed in resigned relaxation hanging in her straps exhausted, her nerves jangling; her passions gently subsiding but still very potent. Although the climax had exhausted her she blurted forth her anger at my refusal to give her the ultimate pleasure of my stiff-standing cock. I rose to my feet and gently stroked her cheeks to wipe away tears. “You can’t have everything you want just for the asking. You have to earn it.”
“You bastard!” she shouted. Her eyes closed as if to try and shut me out of her life. She had to be very tired, of course but sleep most certainly was not in my immediate plans for her. Dammit all, I’d only just retrieved the wretched woman from the cubby-hole. Over the next few hours she was going to suffer a number of humiliating torments, all of them intended to soften the woman up by arduous degradation before correction begins in earnest. I needed her pliant, like putty in my hands to mould as I saw fit.
After fitting a spreader bar between her ankles, I set about undoing the straps. First of all I released her arms and cuffed them together at the wrists then unhurriedly released each of the other straps in turn. She watched me silently and flexed herself as far as she was able cursing the pain of release.
“Firstly, Kerry, I think I will put you to the pedestal. You will enjoy
that. It was specially designed for a naughty girl like you with big tits!”
“You perverted bastard! What are you going to do to me?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” I laughed briefly as I bent forward and swung her over my shoulder. Kicking and cursing and pummelling my back with her cuffed hands she was carried into a small annex.
The pedestal stood on its own in the centre of the stone flagged floor where the walls were of untreated limestone marked by rivulets of green slime here and there. It was noticeably colder than the main cellar. The pedestal was mounted on a heavy wooden plinth securely bolted to the flags. I lowered Kerry to the floor. She squealed as her bare feet touched the cold stone. Ignoring her pleas I stood her upright then crouched down to release the ankle bar. “Now walk to the pedestal. Move!” I nudged her in the back. “Hurry up!” I demanded coldly and pushed her none too gently. “Now climb up and put your feet into those shoes.”
Either side of the steel upright were two wooden, fur-lined clogs mounted securely to keep her feet well spread apart. They were tilted slightly to encourage her to lean forward. Kerry stepped into them, glad to feel the embracing warmth of the fleece covering her icy cold feet. On top of the post was a padded leather table over which I pushed her. She reached out and grabbed at a padded bar set on top of another steel post branching out forwards from the first. She braced her arms and resisted my push.
“What the hell is this thing? It’s horrible and I don’t want to … Ooow, shit!”
The curse came suddenly as I wrenched her hands from the bar, causing her to fall forward so that she hit the padded bar with rather more force than I intended.