Leah's Punishment

by Aran Ashe

  The two masters lifted her astride the lower rope, tying her wrists over the rope above her head, and tightening the lower rope so she was balanced with her feet just off the decking. While the rope pressed into the saddle of flesh between her anus and her sex, the guest paid homage to her puffy nipples by sucking them into elongated teats. Soon the numbness came between her legs, then a feeling as of soft needles being pushed into her sex and bottom. After a few minutes, Merek asked: 'Can you feel this?' He was touching her.

  'Yes, master,' she murmured.

  'Are you sure?'

  She nodded uncertainly. For his fingers, which seemed to be touching her at the front, felt like thickly gloved thumbs probing clumsily into the burgeoning numbness.

  'Let me touch her bottom,' the guest said. Merek relinquished his place and Leah saw that his fingers were saturated with her wetness; so numb was she that she hadn't felt it coming out. She shuddered as he ran those same fingers up her belly to her breasts, already sensitised through the sucking. 'She can feel that,' the guest observed. Then she felt the guest's fingers pushing down against the resilience of the rope that she hung astride, then smoothly, numbly, up into her bottom, which did not tighten. The pushing fingers forced her belly forwards, forcing the tight rope against her knob, forcing soft long needles of numbness through it and up into her womb. Her bottom started to tighten against waves of fine hot needles.

  'She's coming,' the guest shouted.

  'Help me lift her off the rope.'

  Still impaled on the fingers and tethered by her wrists, Leah, stretched and moaning, was lifted to the deck. She could not stand but only slumped forwards against her master. Electric needles of pleasure moved in continuous waves up the insides of her legs from her knees to her crotch. The guest's fingers adhered to the tightly spasming muscle as they slid out of her bottom. Merek unfastened her wrists then carried her quickly below deck and laid her on her back on the bed but did not close the door. Despite her whimpers of protest, the guest massaged the needle-prickled flesh of her inner thighs until it felt as if the needles had shortened and blunted and the waves came fainter and these sensations retreated from the surface but seemed to have lodged within her womb, as if warm spicewater was being gently flushed inside there.

  The men asked her more than once whether the pleasure had been triggered. Leah murmured that she did not know for sure. Then the guest spread her legs out properly. 'How does it feel there?' he said gently. Leah shook her head, unwilling to admit that the feeling of anticipation was coming back. When his tongue approached her knob enquiringly – even before it touched – she moaned again. When the touch came, her shudder told that all the feeling was back; in fact it was stronger. He tried to pace the touches – making little licks, not true sucking kisses – and every time her knob pulsed or retracted or her belly cramped, he would pause while Merek simply kissed her on the lips or breasts or under her arms until the licking could resume. Then, at a nod from Merek, the guest disrobed completely. Leah looked sidelong from the bed at his very swollen penis and cast quick glances at the open doorway, for fear of Asgal's presence.

  'Ah – the glass needs turning again,' observed the guest, misinterpreting Leah's glances.

  Her first definite climax was achieved soon afterwards, during the stretching of penetration by the guest's penis, sheathed in soft, oiled deerskin. The second came when the strap of punishment was laid precisely on the bridge of flesh between her sex and anus, where she had been put astride the rope; Merek used it until the imprint of the rope had disappeared beneath the swelling. The guest was all the while touching her at the front as she lay belly-down upon his palm; it was the touching during punishment that made this second pleasure come. At the moment of coming Leah glimpsed Asgal on the stairs beyond the open doorway but this did not stop her pleasure – to her shame it only made it stronger.

  Afterwards, she could not stand and could not close her thighs but did not need to. Instead the guest lay with her, kissing her swollen bridge of flesh. 'She reacts well to punishment, Merek,' he said. Then he said that he wanted to explore this reaction further. 'Let me whip her buttocks.' He used his personal crop; its fine elastic stem was wound with a strip of thin leather. He made her lie face down with her sex on a pillow. 'Open your thighs about the pillow. Now grip it – yes, as if you are making love.' He whipped her bottom in that position. Then he rested while she whimpered softly. 'Now, spread your cheeks with your hands. Wider – let us see this precious place.' He whipped there too, until her anus burned. 'A little wine, Merek. I fear I may have gone too far. Thank you – just the jug.' He sat beside her trembling body on the bed and dripped the cooling salve against the burning mouth of her bottom, smoothing each drip with the tips of his fingers. She felt his other hand sliding beneath. 'It's still up – and bigger, I'd say, and harder too, like an unripe seed-pod.' Leah felt his tongue licking her naked shoulder and his cool wine-wet finger-strokes on the hot mouth of her bottom and his gently rolling grip upon her slippery clitoris and suddenly she grunted and thrust, belly-thrust his hand into the pillow, tried to thrust it through the bed and then the climax came that felt so wet and burning and so cruelly intense.

  'Perhaps we should let her sleep now, Merek?'

  'Not yet.' She knew from his tone that her master was irked by her coming. Three times it had happened – each time with the guest and each time with less resistance. Leah's hand reached for Merek but he kept back and it was left to the guest to stroke her body very gently till her tears were quelled. He turned her on her back with the pillow still beneath her. 'Let me look at you. There . . . You are beautiful in form and deed. Were I a younger man . . .' He sighed. 'But it is fortunate your master is not jealous.' He glanced enquiringly at Merek.

  'She shall continue to please you – it is her privilege, while I will it.'

  'She pleases by her very existence – I am the privileged one here, Merek, by the generosity of your acquaintance and by the bond of trade that ties us. But I never, even in my keenest imaginings, dreamt of treasures such as these.' He ran the tips of his fingers down Leah's body and made her shiver.

  But Leah would pay for her lapses of self-control.

  Her master did not wait for his guest to leave. Under the pretext of a passing-over he lifted her from the bed and whipped her with the guest's own crop while she stood bent over the cabin table with her open sex astride the corner. She was forced on to tiptoes, her back hollowed and her buttocks projecting. Merek whipped fiercely, in jealousy, through her gasping tears of supplication and almost too far.

  His guest finally intervened. 'May I touch her, my lord?'

  'But of course . . .' Merek, his nostrils still flared from the cruel exertion, suddenly seemed to apprehend the depths of his excesses and stood aside in an attempt to regain composure. Leah's tear-stricken face was pitiful and pleading. The guest, now seated on the other side of Leah, tactfully encouraged her to stand straight and turned her to face him before putting his arms around her waist as she stood there sobbing. He simply held her till the sobs subsided. Then he kissed her burning belly very lightly, inducing another shiver. Then he turned her round and kissed the livid, still-swelling weals that her master had just put across her bottom. He kissed very slowly and lightly, causing shivers to mingle with the burning stinging. He called for more wine and Leah thought he meant to apply it to her weals or even to the mouth of her bottom again; instead, he offered the cup to her. 'Take it, my dear. There . . .' As she took it in both hands he turned her fully facing him again and as she drank he eased apart her thighs and spoke across her to the sullen Merek: 'I sense – indeed I see – that there is good arousal yet within her, my lord, though I fear the hour is late.'

  'The glass is not beyond another turning, my lord.' But Leah sensed resentment in Merek's tone.

  'Did you hear that, Leah? There – give me the cup before you spill it.' He took it from her then clasped her round the waist with one arm and slowly tongue-kissed her umbilicus while he
touched her between the legs. She made droplets of liquid on his milking fingers, which he gently reapplied to the aroused fleshy parts that had escaped the whipping. Then he squeezed firmly the two places where her jewelled chains passed through her inner lips, increasing their swelling steadily and deliberately to the point of pain.

  Merek's attention gradually returned. He came closer to Leah, without warmth but with interest in what his guest was doing. Then he said: 'You were telling me, my friend, of the little instrument that one can use to develop the clitoris to a surer protrusion.'

  'She does not need it,' the guest answered without taking his eyes off Leah.

  'Nevertheless, I would like to see it shown.'

  'So be it.' The guest sighed. He moved his chair nearer the table then moved Leah back until her buttocks touched the edge, instructing her: 'Thighs open . . . Lift up a little, on to your toes. Now, Merek, I shall need your assistance.'

  Leah shuddered when, under the guest's direction, her master's fingers, up-curved, thrust inside her, pressing up behind her knob until it stood out. 'Now, Merek, draw back her foreskin – all the way, if you will.' The stretching nearly hurt Leah. She pleaded with her eyes for Merek to kiss her then – just one sweet kiss while she was so stretched and pushed out, all for him. But it was the guest's lips that pressed their moist envelopment briefly round her knob and the pleasure almost came.

  Then the guest took from a little case a tiny instrument like a toothpick but with a smooth pad at the tip. This tip he first dipped in a tiny bottle of oil then brought up to her quivering knob. She gasped as it was rubbed slowly, gently all around the root of her extended knob and into the juncture with the drawn back foreskin. The sliding pressure of the tip was gradually increased until all the oil had exuded from the pad, whereupon the tip was soaked again and reapplied. Such precisely focused pressure fed a peculiar arousal that was specific to this form of stimulation – she wanted to escape it yet when it drew away she wanted it even more. The pointy tip, pressing and circling the root of her knob, imparted such exquisite feelings. The oil had a warmth like unguent; the scent was like cloves.

  'It grows – though little by little and slowly. Can you see it?' She could now feel her erection standing stiffly like a rod.

  'There is no hurry,' Merek whispered, while Leah's chains were quaking. All the while, Merek had two fingers hooked within Leah's sex, applying the steady outward pressure behind her knob, thrusting it forward for the treatment that his guest was meting. Through his clothing she sensed Merek's erection brushing her thigh and this caused a pulse of pleasure far deeper within her than the root of her knob. She tried to push out her erection still further, to please her master. He commented on its jumpy movements when the oil-soaked tip of delicious torture touched it again. He baited her gently, through his guest, telling him that his slave's pleasure often came too swiftly and needed further control. The expelled oil from the repeated treatments ran down her shaking labia to the lower lobes. One large drop splashed between her toes and made her tense and moan. Had they touched her at that moment then, for sure, she would have come to climax. Merek recognised the signs. 'Stop, my friend, for a little while,' he said then whispered something further to the guest, who took Leah into his arms directly and kissed her.

  Her lips were desirous; her kissing was deep; she did this for herself and for Merek's pleasure too because she knew her master now wanted it. Within his tense expression, she saw desire steadily surmounting rejection. She could feel the guest's erection and as she fingered it she could feel warm dampness coming anew from its tip, for he was leaking just as she was.

  Later, as Leah lay face down across the guest's lap, with the swollen glans of his leather-sheathed penis just within her sex, keeping its entrance stretched, he started masturbating her bottom very skilfully with his fingers. The tightness he induced in her sex made his penis squeeze from its sheath, come out of her body completely, slip and jump in sexual nervousness, skin to skin, and pump semen against her naked, engorged knob. She climaxed very strongly, very pleasurably. The guest turned her over to look and found her erection standing like a little trembling penis drowning in his cream. Her wanton fingers sought his sticky glans and, squeezing, found it still rich with issue.

  Merek left the two of them together: he liked her to be had by other men but Leah knew he could not always bear to witness it. Leah was still playing with the guest's penis; she could not stop now, the desire lay so ingrained within her. The heat from its bulb made the stickiness turn to silken smoothness as its yield of semen quickly dried. Left alone with this man, she felt empowered. She did not put the smooth bulb in her mouth but peeled the film of dried semen from it in small morsels and consumed the flakes while her lover watched. The flakes melted back to pungent stickiness on her tongue. The protracted peeling and progressive eating of his semen made his penis swell anew, as Leah knew it would. She proceeded systematically until all the dried issue was removed and consumed. Then she crouched and kissed the junction of his sac and rigid penis. The skin there was smooth and hot against her lips. His fingertips rubbed her swollen clitoris through the dense film of spilled semen, which would not dry there for she herself was still leaking. She put her fingers under his sac and the flesh there felt firm and shiny hard as if he were swelling inside, as if the yield that she had drawn out of him and massaged dry and eaten was not the limit and even more was building up inside him.

  Leah coaxed him in this rigid state; she kissed his stem, kissed under his sac and gently, nervously pumped just the glans of his penis, as if she were unsure quite how to do it. She put her fingertips round the rim of the glans and gently tugged, repeatedly, as if it were bedded through a tight fleshy ring from which it could not be retracted. The erection hardened as she knew it would. Then she remembered the collar. Leaving hold of the penis she leant across to the bedside drawer and found the little strip of leather, with its sliding bead and adjustable loop at one end. From a distance, she had once seen Merek using this, fastening it round his flesh when he lay with another girl. But Leah was uncertain exactly how this collar should be applied – whether round both sex and sac or simply round the base of the stem. She chose the latter. Even as she began to tighten the collar, his sex began to swell very hard; the bead pressed into the base of the fleshy tube on the underside of the stem. Her lover's breathing suddenly changed and Leah knew this instrument must be working its spell.

  She now kissed below the sac, and the flesh felt even harder and hotter than before. She considered trying to put her fingers into him – up his bottom, as some men liked – to try to squeeze this hardness from inside. Then she realised his penis was still swelling – and now jerking as if it wanted to come – but she was not touching it and the guest was no longer touching her. His fingers had bunched as if in spasm. Leah kissed them then laid her cheek against the burning stem of his penis. She could feel the swollen tension, like a cord inside it being drawn ever tighter and being plucked deeply and strongly and repeatedly. When she drew her cheek away, the penis followed; deep ripples shook her lover's belly; his stem, swollen very fat above the constriction of its collar, jerked as if an invisible stick were smacking it. Leah took part of it in her mouth – just the head – and held it warmly and tight, waiting for the invisible smacking to deliver up its yield.

  A deep wrenching groan shook the guest's whole body; his belly thrust his penis deeper into her mouth; Leah sucked and the head was racked with jerky spasms. But no discernible fluid came out, no taste of semen, and her mouth finally released it. Her lover lay helplessly, his penis pulsing but nothing emerging, and Leah watched, transfixed by delicious arousal tinged with awe. Then she remembered the collar. Swiftly she released its potent grip. There was a groove round the base of the penis and a deep impression where the captive bead had pressed into the tube. The penis was still hard, jerking at intervals, but still with nothing coming out. The guest lay exhausted, his eyes closed tight. Leah kissed his breasts then laid her cheek u
pon his belly and shyly fingered the groove that she had made in the base of his penis. She put the tip of her finger into the round indentation in the tube beneath and gently tried to rub the mark away. He gasped softly and the awed excitement that Leah had at first felt was now swamped by her arousal. She again took the head of his penis into her mouth; there was but a faint salty taste of semen, yet his pleasure had been wrenching. Leah sat up and clasped his swollen sac, squeezing it gently, half hoping it would force the issue. 'What was it?' she whispered, turning to look at him. His eyes were still closed. She kissed him on the lips and squeezed his sac again. 'What was it?'

  He shook his head.

  'Was it good, the collar?'

  'Oh, yes,' he sighed.

  'And is all the fluid still inside – for me?'

  His strength of swelling told her it was. Yet his body bore the languor of exhaustion. 'Make spoons,' Leah whispered. She snuggled on her side, her back against him. She took his hand and put it around her belly.

  'Shall my lord be travelling with us?' she asked: that would be nice, and she could work upon his pleasure.

  'I must leave before dawn. I have a journey – business to engage, that will take some days at best.'

  'Has my lord a special slave, at home?' she ventured boldly.

  'Not a slave . . .'

  'Then a lady?'

  'Yes, my wife.' He sighed.

  'And you love her? Is she beautiful?'

  'Too many questions, my child . . . Yes I love her very deeply. She is not quite so young as you but she is very beautiful – high-born and graceful. And men admire her. Yet she accepted me – a common merchant.'