The Price of Sin

by Monica Belle

  ‘Thank you for my punishment, Lady Aylsham.’

  ‘You really are learning.’

  The cane bit into my flesh for the third time, and for the third time I screamed and jumped, stamping up and down in my panties and jeans for a moment before getting back in the position she wanted me, but keeping my hold on my ankles. Vanessa told me I was a good girl and I immediately felt grateful, pathetically grateful. With the fourth stroke I managed to stay down as before, and the fifth, for all that my bottom was now burning hot all over and the tears streaming from my eyes, tears of misery – and of ecstasy too. I was hers completely, spanked and caned into a state of grovelling submission, and grateful for my punishment.

  As the caning continued I found myself wishing the Anstruthers were there to watch me beaten, so that I could apologise to them properly, maybe suck his cock and lick her out. I’d lost count of the cuts too, relying on Vanessa to do justice to my bottom with the full 18 strokes of the cane she’d awarded me, and which I now wanted and felt I deserved. She continued, cool and poised in her beautiful clothes as she beat me, stroke after stroke, with me stripped half bare and blubbering in my pain. At one point she pushed up my top and bra to leave my breasts naked, but when she paused again to take them in her hands I assumed she was only doing it to add to my humiliation before she carried on. When she spoke it was more to herself than to me, musing on the size and weight of my breasts as she fondled me.

  ‘I wonder how it feels to be built like you, with a pair of great, fat, ungainly udders. Still, the boys like them, don’t they?’

  She gave me a slap, then took hold of one nipple and pulled hard, twisting at the same time. I cried out and she laughed, her hand tightening in my hair to pull me upright. Again she slapped my breasts, and again, full across both to make my flesh sting and leave my nipples achingly stiff.

  ‘What a little slut you are, Chloe. Now, down on the rug, on your back.’

  I knew what she was going to do to me and went down without hesitation, my hand already on my breasts as I gave in to the need to play with myself, only to receive a kick to one shoulder.

  ‘You can cut that out, for a start. This is a punishment, Chloe, not a bit of fun. I’m going to sit on your face, and you are going to lick my bottom. Keep your hands by your side while you’re doing it and don’t stop until I tell you to. Got it?’

  ‘Yes, Lady Aylsham.’

  ‘Good.’

  She’d straddled my head as she spoke, planting one immaculate high heel to either side. I could see up her skirt, to the tops of her stockings, the turn of her bottom cheeks and her pussy, quite bare. She had no knickers on, which meant she’d planned out every detail in advance, knowing I’d accept both the punishment and having her sit on my face. It was no surprise, and she’d been right, because I found myself pushing my tongue out even as she began to tug her skirt up to get her bottom bare.

  As she sank down into a squat her cheeks spread, showing off the tight dimple of her anus, which I was going to lick, my tongue stuck up another woman’s bottom hole to pleasure her, a woman who’d just spanked and beaten me. It was an awful thing to do to somebody, to beat them then make them lick her bottom, but she knew me all too well, her voice full of cruel delight as she spoke again.

  ‘Just look on it as the price of being a dirty little bitch. Now get your tongue up me.’

  She’d settled herself onto my face, her perfect little bottom cheeks spread well apart, her anus pressed to my mouth. I began to lick immediately, unable to stop myself and wishing only she’d let me play with my pussy and breasts so that I could share in her ecstasy. She made very sure I didn’t, spreading out my arms and kneeling on them so that I was trapped. It hurt, and she had a lot of her weight settled on my face, but there was nothing I could do, my tongue now pushed well up her bottom hole as she began to masturbate.

  ‘There we are, Chloe, how does that feel, with your fat bottom thrashed and your tongue up your mistress’s arsehole? God, but it’s where you belong, with your dirty angel’s face as a seat for my bottom. That’s it, lick, lick me, you little slut ... you filthy little slut!’

  She broke off with a gasp and the motion of her fingers on her sex had suddenly grown firmer and faster, poking at my chin as I struggled to get my tongue as deep up her bottom hole as it would go. I felt her cheeks tighten in my face and I knew she was coming, and that when she’d taken her pleasure of me I would be allowed mine. Even as she cried out in ecstasy my thighs had come up and open, and as she relaxed slowly onto my body, I was struggling to get my arms out from under her legs so that I could show her what she’d done to me by deliberately bringing myself off in front of her with my tongue still up her bottom. One arm came free, then the other and I was doing it, only to be brought up short as she snatched them away.

  ‘Oh no you don’t, you dirty little bitch. Keep your hands to yourself!’

  As she spoke she’d lifted her bottom a little and, after gasping in a badly needed mouthful of air, I began to beg, sure she was only teasing me.

  ‘Please, Vanessa, please! I need to come. You know I need to come! Please let me.’

  I was trying to get my hands to my pussy as I spoke, but she wouldn’t let me. As she climbed off she let go, but only to slap me hard across my face.

  ‘Stop it, I said! That was a punishment, Chloe.’

  ‘But Vanessa, please!’

  ‘No. I enjoy your frustration, and you need to remember that you are here to serve me. Now fuck off.’

  The moment was gone, her nastiness no longer a turn-on. I stood up, feeling utterly wretched as I adjusted my clothes but still hoping she’d take pity on me. One word and I’d have been spread out on the floor, masturbating openly in front of her with all the burning shame in my head focused towards what would have been a beautiful orgasm. She ignored me completely, not even bothering to say goodbye as she made for the kitchen.

  I made my way back down the stairs, feeling sorry for myself and badly in need of comfort. Julian was in Norwich, which was no doubt why Vanessa had chosen that moment to punish me, so I was going to have to wait, and I was feeling so small that as I reached the office even Sally’s friendly but casual smile nearly brought the tears back to my eyes. I needed to talk, badly, just ordinary human conversation, while I also wanted to know more about the couple who’d complained about me and given Vanessa the excuse she wanted to beat me. I turned to Graham.

  ‘There were a couple in one of yesterday’s groups, a Mr and Mrs Anstruther. Can you bring their details up for me?’

  He looked to Sally, who typed in a search query, waited a moment, typed in another, then turned from her screen.

  ‘No Mr and Mrs Anstruther, or anything like that.’

  ‘Are you sure? They’d have been here in the morning I think.’

  ‘Certain. You can check for yourself. There’s nobody of that name down for yesterday, or any other time.’

  Vanessa had made it all up, simply for the pleasure of making me believe my caning was a real punishment. I’d fallen for it, which left me feeling smaller still as I walked back towards the Hall. It was just too much, the final straw, and despite a few minutes of desperately trying to stop myself I was soon spread out on my bed with my boobs out and my knickers and jeans around my ankles, just as I had been for Vanessa, drowning in my own shame as I rubbed myself to orgasm over what she’d done to me.

  Chapter Three

  I WASN’T AT ALL happy about the way Vanessa had behaved. Admittedly I’d enjoyed it, once I was over the pain, but I’d have been perfectly happy to let her punish me for fun, as she’d done before. Obviously she needed to feel that I was genuinely under her control, but as an excuse that only went so far, and I felt that at the very least she might have given me a hug before sending me away. Really she should have let me come and then given me a proper cuddle, as she knew perfectly well, which left me feeling that she took pleasure in really hurting me.

  Fortunately I had the consolation of being
up to no good behind her back and, from then on, what little guilt I’d felt about it vanished altogether. She could use me as a toy for her sadistic fantasies, that was fine, but only if she played fair. As she hadn’t, she had no claim on my loyalty, and I threw myself into the arrangements with new zeal. I also told Julian what had happened, half hoping he’d go down to the gatehouse, haul the little bitch across his knee, pull down her expensive panties and spank her until she howled, preferably in front of a large tour party. Instead he cautioned me to be calm, and patient.

  ‘I’ll sort it out for you, Chloe, I promise, but not now. We need Vanessa on side at the moment, so that there’s no difficulty with the ritual.’

  I could see his point, but couldn’t help but feel indignant.

  ‘Couldn’t you at least explain things to her? I do like what she does to me, and I do like to feel mistreated, for sex, but I still need her respect, if that makes any sense.’

  ‘It makes perfect sense, to me, probably not to Vanessa. She prefers to get her own way without any fuss, and she is a genuine sadist. My advice is to take what you can from her, just as she takes what she can from you. Believe me, Iintend to.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘You’ll see. For now, just trust me.’

  He took my head in his hands and kissed me on the forehead as he spoke, a gesture I couldn’t help but enjoy, for all that I’d have found it condescending from any lesser man. I was also curious about his plans for Vanessa, but knew better than to push him, so snuggled up to his chest instead. He gave me a squeeze then carried on.

  ‘Never mind Vanessa anyway, because there’s something I need you to do.’

  ‘Anything.’

  He laughed.

  ‘You might want to wait until I’ve told you what it is before making rash promises, but it is important. A lot of our clients are worried about their pictures ending up on the net, and while I’ve told them they’ll be able to wear cowls, that only goes so far. We need to make sure the Inquisitor isn’t about.’

  ‘I thought we’d scared him off?’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not, but I want to be sure, and that’s where you come in.’

  I could see where the conversation was going and my stomach had begun to tighten, but I let him talk.

  ‘The Inquisitor, Martin what’s-his-name, comes across as a religious fanatic, and that may be true, but I think his real problem is jealousy. It’s always the way with religious types who are not getting their rocks off. They can’t bear to see other people having fun and use their beliefs as an excuse to try and put a stop to it, or at least to make sure they get a good look at what’s going on. He knows we’re having a lot of fun and he’s not involved, so he wants to stop us, but if he ...’

  I knew what he wanted, which would be the ultimate sacrifice I could make to prove my love to him, and broke into the flow of his words.

  ‘It’s all right, Julian. I understand. You want me to let him fuck me.’

  He looked around in surprise.

  ‘Fuck you? No, nothing like that. I just need you to let him think he’s got a date with you on the night we arrange the ritual.’

  ‘Oh.’

  I’d gone crimson with embarrassment, both for what I’d said and for being such a slut, but the moment he’d told me I wasn’t going to have to surrender my body at his request I’d felt not relief, but disappointment. Julian merely laughed, which made my blushes hotter still, but he didn’t seem to notice as he carried on talking.

  ‘We know who he is and we know where he lives, so it should be simple. You turn up, in some suitably gothic outfit which leaves plenty of cleavage on show, tell him we want him to leave us alone, flirt a little and promise to take him to bed in return for peace and quiet. He’s bound to accept, and when we decide on a date you tell him that will be the night. You’ll have told him to meet you somewhere else entirely, Cromer for instance, and he’ll have a frustrating evening while we complete the ritual in peace.’

  ‘What if he wants it then and there?’

  ‘Put him off. Surely you can think up a suitable excuse?’

  ‘I suppose so. Sorry, I thought ... I ...’

  ‘Hush. You’re such a trollop, Chloe, but I love you for it.’

  He kissed me again, this time on my nose, and I managed a smile as his hands began to explore my breasts.

  The Inquisitor, Martin Wright, had a Great Yarmouth address. Discovering his name had already robbed him of some of the mystery we’d built up around him, and I had come to imagine him as a middle-aged man probably still living with his mother on one of the new estates at the fringes of the town. I knew from Darius that Wright was still in his 20s, but that had only gone so far to dispel the image and I was surprised to find myself outside a detached cottage set in a badly neglected garden a couple of miles to the north of the town, where low hills pushed up from the flat country.

  Julian was parked a little way down the lane, just out of sight, easing my fear for visiting a lone man in such a secluded spot, but it still took a lot of effort to maintain my poise as I walked to the door. There was an ancient bell pull, which created a muffled clanging within the house, dying slowly until the door came open with a jerk to reveal a solidly built man with a mop of sandy hair wearing nothing but a pair of tatty tracksuit bottoms. He recognised me immediately, his eyes flickering from my face to my chest and back.

  ‘Chloe Anthony! Where’s D’Alveda?’

  As he spoke he had thrust his head out from the door, looking from side to side as if expecting to find Julian half hidden behind an overgrown rose bush. I tried to reassure him.

  ‘He’s not here, Mr Wright. We need to talk.’

  He ignored me, stepping out from the cottage to the front gate and glancing up and down the lane. I waited, rehearsing what Julian had told me to say in my head until he turned back once more to look me up and down with eyes full of suspicion.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I want to make you an offer, Mr Wright.’

  He hesitated just an instant before answering, again allowing his gaze to flick to my breasts. I expected him to say something dramatic, like “Get thee behind me, Satan!”, but he was more practical.

  ‘What could you possibly offer that I’d want?’

  We both knew the answer, he in his dirty little mind and me from the desperation in his voice. I smiled, doing my best to play my part for all that I could scarcely believe it was me speaking the words as I answered him.

  ‘I know very well what you want, Mr Wright ... Martin. You want what you’ve seen. What Julian has – me.’

  As I spoke I’d stepped forward, until we were just inches apart. He swallowed, shaking his head either in denial or disbelief, but his eyes were now fixed firmly on my cleavage and I pressed my advantage.

  ‘That’s what you want, isn’t it, Martin? Think of what you’ve seen, how naughty I’ve been. All of that could be yours, if you’ll just agree to do me a little favour in return.’

  Julian had read him right, no question. I’d never had a man want me so badly, or at least, not until he was just about to come, and from the look on Martin Wright’s face he might well have been. He was a lot more attractive than I’d expected as well, but that was less important than his desire for me and the power it gave me. As I pushed him inside his cottage I realised that my task was going to be easy.

  The interior was a mess, with paper and bits of gadgetry strewn everywhere, so that the only clear place to sit in his living room was the huge black leather chair in front of the computer. I took it, feeling the leather still warm as I settled down, and as I put my elbow on his desk I jogged the mouse. His screen came to life, showing the background, which was a large and colourful picture of me, bent over Julian’s knee as I was prepared for spanking in front of the snail man, with my panties just far enough down to show off my bottom hole and pussy. The sight nearly broke my poise, but I managed to turn my shock and embarrassment into a haughty look and did my best to
imitate Vanessa’s voice as I spoke to him.

  ‘You dirty little boy.’

  He was standing in the doorway, looking sorry for himself, and immediately began to stammer apologies, so I pressed my advantage.

  ‘I don’t mind. Those of us who worship the true Lord rejoice in our bodies, and in the gift of pain. And you, as you obviously like to see me spanked, perhaps you’re not so very white after all?’

  I was making it up as I went along, but it seemed to impress him as he was rooted to the spot, watching me with his eyes full of lust and fear. At last he managed to find his voice.

  ‘I ... I wouldn’t do that to you. I’d be nice to you. I’m a nice guy. I’d look after you. I’m quite well off.’

  It wasn’t the response I’d been expecting at all, and suggested he was more obsessed with me than I’d ever have guessed, but I did my best to get him back on track.

  ‘Julian is my lover, Martin, and there is no man who can be his equal, but you know he gives me to others, don’t you?’

  He nodded, no doubt thinking of Vanessa and her monstrous strap-on dildo. Now he knew I was available, or he thought he did, and he’d begun to sweat. I was thoroughly enjoying my power as I went on.

  ‘Yes, Martin, he gives me to others, and he is prepared to give me to you, so long as you promise to leave us alone at Candle Street Hall. That means no peeping, or if you must peep, then what you see stays firmly in that dirty little mind of yours, got it?’

  He nodded earnestly, and really that was all I needed to do, but I couldn’t bring myself to simply leave. It was all too much fun. I decided to take him to the brink before I told him he wasn’t going to get anything until later, only to remember how cross I’d been with Vanessa for giving me the same treatment. I was also very sure that if I made him come he would be far more obedient than if I left him frustrated, especially if he was sure there would be more to follow at a later date. The situation was also turning me on, both for his helpless desire and because I knew how Julian would react, maybe even turning the tables on me with a good, long spanking for being such a slut. I lifted my breasts in my hands, and on sudden impulse tugged down the front of my little black dress and the cups of my bra with it, to expose myself. His eyes went round and his mouth came slowly open as I spoke to him.