We broke apart, and Brent quickly went to work setting up for our scene while I watched, my pussy growing wetter by the second. His actions were turning me on so much that I was sure I would explode the second I was tied up, if not sooner. While Brent continued to fiddle with the web and tethers, I began fingering myself, unable to wait for him to finish. He’d been working for only a couple of minutes, but the idea of being tied up always gets me hot instantly, and watching him go through the trouble of setting up my gift was serving as more fuel for the fire.
Finally he had the straps in place and ready for use. When he turned to announce the start of our scene, he caught me with my hand between my legs and playfully scolded me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “Did I tell you to play with yourself? No. I think you need to be punished, Claire.”
My eyes lit up as he lectured me, and I could barely contain myself when he grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the bed, pushed me down on the mattress, and began to bind me. Each tether had a leather cuff attached at the end, and within moments, Brent had my wrists and ankles secured with the soft leather.
When he stepped back to admire my form, tied spread-eagle to his king-size bed, I began to wriggle around, testing my restraints. I pulled, twisted, and kicked, fighting against my bonds but never able to move more than an inch or so in any direction. It was perfect!
Moving over to the bed, Brent picked up his discarded tie and trailed it along my body, letting only the very edge of the silk accessory tickle my skin. The tie danced across my body, covering every inch of me from head to toe and back again before Brent decided to use it as a makeshift blindfold and tied it in place, covering my eyes. Now excited, tethered, and unable to see, I was truly on edge.
The bed dipped as Brent climbed onto the mattress with me, and I paid close attention to the way my body shifted as he moved up the bed. When he finally settled into place, he was straddling my chest, his cockhead pressing against my lips. I opened my mouth compliantly and eagerly took his dick into my mouth. As I sucked his hard shaft, he thrust in and out, pulling himself farther down my body with every few strokes. Because I was bound so tightly, I could move my head only a couple of inches, and as he retreated, I went from being able to deep-throat him to running my tongue over just the head to having the crown barely touching my lips. He knows I like sucking his tasty cock, too, so his teasing was actually a kind of torture. I strained against the tethers, trying to get closer to him once he’d stopped thrusting, but nothing worked.
I heard Brent let out a chuckle as I struggled in my bonds. Then I felt him move again, this time camping out between my legs, his hands holding my hips against the mattress. He stayed there, unmoving, for several moments, making me guess what he was going to do next. Then he leaned in and blew softly across my soaking cunt. I shivered and writhed in his grasp. He was driving me crazy!
Finally he moved in and began to eat my pussy. His tongue danced across my hot flesh, each lick causing me to writhe in pleasure and strain against the cuffs holding me down. The soft leather was digging into my wrists and ankles, and each time I bucked, new waves of pleasure washed through me because of the tension. In a matter of moments I was coming, my body convulsing in ecstasy and my juices flowing. Brent stayed between my legs, licking me slowly, until I’d come down from my high. Then he fucked me.
Climbing back on top of me, he ran his dick along my pussy lips several times, gathering up my remaining dew, before thrusting into me. In one fast stroke, he was enveloped to the hilt. After all the teasing he’d done, I knew he must be close to climaxing, so I wasn’t surprised when he started plowing into me fast and hard. I simply lay beneath him, meeting his thrusts as best I could while still tied tightly in place. If my wriggling and writhing had been difficult before, the actions were even more so now, with his sturdy body holding me down, and my bonds dug into my flesh even more, which was delightful in a very dirty way.
It wasn’t long before I was coming again, the combination of Brent’s fucking and my struggle against the straps bringing me to a thrilling orgasm. Brent came at almost the same time, filling me with his seed as he continued pumping into me, making sure I got every drop of semen.
When we were finally done, Brent moved to unbind me, but I stopped him. I wanted to enjoy the feeling a little longer, so I remained bound until he had finished washing up and getting drinks for us both. Once free of my restraints, I marveled at the red lines marking my skin where the cuffs had been. I hadn’t expected the straps to be so strong, but I was glad they were. I love that I no longer have to make do without being tied up the way I like, and I can’t wait to try our new plaything on our hotel bed when we go on vacation next month!
—Ms. Claire A., Fort Wayne, Indiana
A Submissive Wife’s Taunts Win Her Exactly What She Deserves
Sometimes I try to get a rise out of Ryan. I don’t know why I do this. He’s the type of dominant lover who will give me what I crave without me ever having to press his buttons. But there are some days when I simply can’t help myself. I behave in a way that’s destined to get me bound facedown to our bed with my ass in the air. Is that topping from below, or do I simply have an inexplicable craving to stir up trouble?
That’s what Ryan asked me last night, after I had played the brat all day long. He’d done his best to be patient. He’d ignored my snotty tone of voice, joked about my belligerent attitude. But when push finally came to shove, he shook his head, gripped me by the wrist, and hauled me up the stairs to our bedroom.
At that point, I had second thoughts. Did I really need to have my bare bottom spanked? Was it absolutely necessary for me to be cuffed, so I couldn’t get away? Would worlds collide if a blindfold wasn’t slipped over my eyes? Maybe I could apologize. Perhaps I could make things better by tilting my head in that flirty way and promising him oral pleasures.
Too late.
“What is it with you, Charlene?” he asked as he casually stripped me out of all of my clothes. “Do I not give you everything you need?”
“No,” I said quickly, “you do, Ryan. You give me all that and more.”
“You’ve got the ‘and more’ part right,” he said, “at least, for tonight.”
I was as meek as a good sub possibly could be, and I didn’t ask what he meant. He was busy, anyway: busy sliding a blindfold over my eyes, busy adjusting my body facedown on the bed, slipping a pillow under my hips, cuffing my wrists, and attaching the long chain linking them to the hook over our headboard.
“What got into you today?” he asked. I could feel him staring at me, could imagine the expression on his face. I was entirely nude, and Ryan had his clothes on. He was moving around the room, rummaging through drawers. I could hear his shoes on the hardwood floor. I turned my head to face the sound of his voice, and suddenly his palm caressed my cheek. He was closer than I’d thought. I trembled.
“I asked you a question,” he said, his voice low but suddenly dangerous.
“I don’t know,” I stammered, honestly. “I really don’t.” I wasn’t lying. Like I said, some days I seem to need to kick up a fuss. Maybe I’m trying to see if Ryan will sense what I crave and give it to me without me having to put the desires into words.
“Maybe you don’t,” he said softly, “but I do.” His hand slapped my ass once, and I shivered. He spanked my other cheek, then the first again, creating a heated rhythm using my bare bottom as his drum kit. I bit my lip, wondering if this was all he was going to do tonight. “You like to see how far you can go,” Ryan finally said when my behind was warm all over. “You like to push and push and see if you’ll get a prize. Well, this is the prize you’re getting tonight. I’ve got you bound down, sightless, and I’m not going to tell you what my plans are.”
I opened my mouth to beg him to take pity on me. I like to know what’s going to happen, in order to prepare myself. Before I could speak, Ryan slid his thumb between my parted lips and said, “Suck.”
I obeyed. Yes, I’d been bratty all day, but I was done. I was going to be his good girl now, because I wanted a reward. I sucked his thumb the way I like to suck his cock, and he groaned and said, “That’s right. Show me what an obedient little slut you can be.”
He pulled his hand away after a moment, and I thought maybe he was going to whip out his dick for me. I heard the sound of the buckle of his belt, and then I heard the whisper of the leather being pulled free. I tightened my muscles all over. Sucking him would have been a treat for me. And he was all about doling out the punishment.
The belt snapped in the air, and then landed across both of my cheeks. I groaned and arched my back. Yes, the stripe of pain stung, but that sort of pain takes me to a different level. If my hands hadn’t been cuffed, I would have tried to touch my clit. The brief spanking had already made my pussy wet. Now I was practically gushing. I love when Ryan lets me play with myself while he punishes me, lets me accept the rain of blows while my hand is on my clit. I last so much longer that way, and I always get off.
Not tonight. My wrists were contained by his regulation steel cuffs, and my ass was raised by that pillow under my hips. Ryan let the belt kiss me softly several times before landing another series of stinging blows. I moaned and bucked on the bed. I wanted him to fuck me. I was wet enough. He seemed to sense this, because he slid two fingers between my pussy lips, and then he laughed and said, “You’re so easy to read. You pout and whine all day, as if you’re the Queen of Sheba. But what you really are is a naughty girl who needs to be punished.” He brought his fingers to my lips and spread my juices on them, as if applying gloss. I licked my lips clean and then waited for what was going to happen next. Ryan was in a mood. But I was the one who’d put him there.
I wondered if he’d pick up the belt again, or return to using his palm, or… suddenly, I felt something new, something cool. He was pressing something against my naked skin, as if playing a deviant little guessing game. I knew right away what tool it was. One of Ryan’s favorites: a crop.
Had I been that bad? Had I? I tried to recall the day’s events. I’d mouthed off from the moment he’d opened his eyes, and didn’t stop until after we’d had dessert. Yeah, I guess I had this coming to me. Ryan didn’t say a word. He lifted the crop and struck. I didn’t cry out, but I mashed my face into the mattress and moaned. He landed a second blow. I felt the juices from my pussy coating my inner thighs. The third time the crop landed, I actually thought I might come without any additional stimulation. I wondered if my man could tell, because Ryan dropped the tool and climbed onto the bed. He still had his jeans on, but I could feel that they were open now. He parted my thighs and thrust his cock in hard from the start.
“That was your foreplay,” he hissed as he fucked me. I rattled the handcuff chain, feeling the heat in my poor punished ass seem to spread to the very tips of my fingers, the soles of my feet. Ryan fucked me with abandon, holding my waist and grinding his body against mine. He gave me the perfect friction, his balls against the split of my body, and I started to come, even without permission. I couldn’t stop myself. But Ryan didn’t seem to mind. “You come for me, baby,” he whispered as he reached his own climax. “You come for me, so I can shoot inside you, and then resume your punishment.”
Those words extended my climax. What was he going to do next? I couldn’t wait to find out. Ryan shuddered as he filled me, then pulled out and removed my blindfold.
I saw that he’d lined up all his favorite toys next to me on the bed: a paddle, a row of anal beads, nipple clamps.
“It’s going to be a long, hard night for you,” Ryan said softly.
I had to turn my head away so he couldn’t see the smile on my face. Sometimes being a bad girl gets you not only what you deserve, but also what you want.
—Ms. Charlene D., Wichita, Kansas
She Makes Sure to Spank Him Hard on Their Very First Date
I don’t think Matt meant to ask me to spank him on our first date, but I’m so glad he did. We had enjoyed a leisurely two-hour dinner, during which we got to know as much about each other as we could. He was a photographer for a local newspaper, while I shared stories of running my own catering company. At some point, we began playing footsie under the table. He’d hinted that his last girlfriend was too quiet, that he’d been the one to have to plan all their outings, which led me to believe he might desire a dominant woman, but I wasn’t sure.
I love putting a man in his place, but only if he desires it, and I prefer for him to be the one to make that initial request. I never want to impose my dominance on a man who’s not fully ready to submit to me. Plus, well, I just like to hear them ask or, even better, beg. Even a man with a deep, booming voice takes on a timid, endearing quality when he has to risk rejection by requesting a woman take control of him.
Matt was the perfect gentleman all through dinner. He fed me bites of our shared dessert, paid the bill, and drove me home. As I made to get out the door, though, he said, “Suzanne, I had such a good time tonight.” His voice was shaking slightly. “And I’d like to continue seeing you.”
“Yes, Matthew,” I said, purposely using the more formal version of his name.
“But I also want to tell you something about me. I’m a submissive. I’m a masochist. I like being told what to do and being spanked, being used, by a beautiful woman. All night I’ve been thinking about lying across your lap while you spank me. I wanted to confess that to you before I go home and jerk off to that image.”
His eyes were downcast when I looked at him, as if he were afraid he’d said too much. “Well, Matthew, I applaud your honesty. And I have a feeling we’re going to get along very well, because I happen to have a drawer full of toys that will make your ass look very pretty indeed.”
His face lit up and I smiled, my panties getting damper as I saw how eager he was to please. I invited him in, and when he got inside my place, I ordered him to remove his clothes and sit on my bed. I kept him waiting for fifteen minutes while I performed my beauty rituals—brushing my teeth and removing my eye makeup—before slipping into a sheer black silk robe. Then I grabbed a tube of red lipstick and a small brush and entered my bedroom. My order had been a test that he’d passed with flying colors. He was naked, and his dick was standing straight up at attention, as if it were waiting for me.
“Good boy,” I said. “I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you.” As I spoke, I ran my fingers lightly over his dick, over the smooth, round head I knew would be perfect for fucking next time. “I’m going to give you what you want—a spanking. But first I think you’d look pretty with some red lipstick, don’t you?” This was also a test; I don’t believe in all-out feminization because I love men, but I think everyone looks better with a bit of lip gloss or lipstick. And any man who’s bold enough to submit to this treatment is the kind of submissive I enjoy.
He puckered his full lips, and I carefully painted on the color with the brush, the same way I do my own makeup. My lipstick shade that night was slightly paler than his, and I wondered what would happen if we kissed. When I was done, I held a mirror up in front of his face and he smiled for me. “Beautiful,” I pronounced him.
I placed a black towel on the bed so he wouldn’t get lipstick on my comforter, then sat down and splayed him across my lap. I love over-the-knee the best. “Now, a few ground rules. You are not to talk unless I tell you to. Do not clench your ass cheeks together. And you absolutely cannot come until I give the okay. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. It was almost like we’d done this before, and I knew that he had submitted to the strong hands of many a domme. I prefer my subs with a bit of experience, otherwise they’re too loud and whiny and not as fun to play with. When they’ve been through it before, they compose themselves better and can handle more intensity.
I began with a series of light slaps, admiring the rapidly changing hue of his buttocks. They’d started off quite pale and then transformed into a sweet pink color. “Look at that—
your bottom’s such a girlie pink color. Let’s see if we can make it match your red lipstick,” I told him, slapping him harder and occasionally going lower, to the backs of his thighs, but being careful to avoid his balls. I dug my nails into his back as he wiggled ever so slightly. I could tell he was deliberately controlling himself for me.
“What else do you like to be spanked with, Matthew?” I asked him. I am nothing if not a courteous domme.
“Paddles, ma’am. Rulers. Anything you like.” He sounded excited about the possibility of getting spanked harder. I made him get up and go into the drawer where I keep my sex toys and select two of them. This was so he could see my stash and know what was in store for him next time, as well as to let me know what he craved. While I have my sadistic streak, I also like to give men what they want—within reason.
He returned with a wooden paddle and a small cane. He was a seasoned spankee, it seemed. “So you went straight for the hard stuff,” I said. “I like you. Now get back where you belong.” Within seconds, Matt was again across my lap. I raised the smooth, custom-made wooden paddle with my initials carved into its handle and brought it down onto his ass. Because it’s wood, it has no give, so unlike a leather paddle, all the force of the blow was delivered directly to his skin. I kept spanking him, and as his ass turned a gorgeous shade of red, he was finding it more and more difficult to follow my orders. Little murmurs kept escaping his lips, and he was soon squirming all around.
“You’re not going to come, are you?” I said, raising my voice on the last two words as I brought the paddle down once more.
“No, ma’am,” he said.
“Very good,” I praised him as I soothed his ass with my hand. Then I took the cane, knowing I could only go a few strokes with it. Even though it’s short, it still packs some bite—I’ve been on the receiving end of all my toys at least once, so I know what I’m asking my bottoms to submit to. “Are you ready for this?” I asked, tapping it lightly against his ass.
Letters to Penthouse XXXXV Page 4