Leah's Punishment

by Aran Ashe

  'I . . . I don't understand, mistress.'

  'Lauren . . . You must call me by my name.'

  Looking down, Ean suddenly seemed to realise that Lauren wore nothing apart from her bed-jacket. He had never seen her so exposed. Lauren took his hand and pressed it softly to her naked belly. His erection pulsed in sustained arousal against the half-fitted sheath. He stared down in mystification at the sheath then back at her. 'If it were all a dream then how did this –'

  'Was that in your dream, my darling?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then don't touch it. Leave it be.' Lauren pursed her lips, shook her head and took him gently by the shoulders. 'Dreams are sometimes augurs, Ean. Can you recall your dream? Then you must tell me – all that befell there, however painful or strange it might seem.' At that, his gaze faltered and Lauren's excitement mounted. She reached across and stroked his nipples very gently and nervously with just the tips of her fingers. She was in no hurry; she just kept cajoling him in this way, very softly until at last his belly tightened and the muscles rippled, like a shiver, and his sheathed erection bobbed and stood out from his body. Lauren vowed to keep him in sexual torment. She leant forward, brushed her cheek against his then softly sucked his ear lobe. She urged him again: 'Lie down, Ean. Tell me.' Ean sighed and succumbed.

  'I saw Leah,' he whispered. Then his voice became stronger. 'So vividly . . . As if it were actually happening . . .'

  'You were with her?'

  'Not with her, but I saw and heard everything.' Lauren waited. Then Ean closed his eyes and whispered: 'She was being punished, Lauren, for what she had done with me.' Again Lauren said nothing but she slid her fingers gently into place against his belly, under the arch of his erect penis, reassuring him through gentle abdominal pressure with her palm whilst at the same time monitoring his erection, which, should it ever wane, would warn her by touching the back of her hand. As Ean's mind focused on the memory, his eyes remained closed but the words flooded from his lips and Lauren was pleased to note that his erection stayed strong.

  'How could any master be so unforgiving? Even before he had made any move to discipline her, even before the gag was put between her lips, she was weeping abjectly. He took her below deck to a dingy cabin at the stern of his barge. I saw him fling her naked on the bed and make her open her legs. That boatman was watching them from the cabin doorway.'

  'Asgal – the one who brought her to the lodge?'

  'None other.'

  'Her master allowed it?'

  'Her master instructed him to remain there. He wanted a witness; I think he wanted to make her punishment that much worse.'

  Lauren snuggled close, her pulse quickening at the mention of punishment. It seemed strange that Ean had so soon forgotten his role in Leah's whipping at the lodge; was it protectiveness or covetousness that fired his present rancour? Whichever, his passion was genuine and strong. Lauren laid her head against his chest and pictured Leah, afraid and wide-eyed, open in heart, open now in body, seeking some sign that the coldness in her master's soul might melt. 'Go on,' Lauren whispered, taking Ean's nipple into her mouth.

  'He tethered her by her toes: he put separate cinctures round the big toe of each foot and drew the tethers over a beam above the bed. Then he drew the tethers wider until her body was wrenched open to its tender heart.'

  With a shudder of pleasure Lauren pictured this submissive girl, her buttocks lifted from the bed, her toe joints stretched, her sex gaping – and with the hired hand's smirk to add piquancy to this beautiful exhibition. Lauren teased herself between the legs, pressing her labia open, wanting to feel the very pleasure that the slave-girl had suffered. She sucked Ean's nipple very fully until a deep ripple moved through his belly. Then she grasped the most swollen girth of his sheathed penis and squeezed, slowly increasing the pressure until she felt it kick in spasm and she held it at that point, gently tight. She knew that his pre-come would be slowly leaking its potent distillate into the head of the sheath.

  She made him describe that scene again in intimate detail, all the while touching herself and holding his penis collared in that deeply sexual squeeze. His luscious pre-come flowed steadily into the sheath. Then gently Lauren prised the sheath from his throbbing penis and carefully tipped its potent contents into her mouth.

  When that heady liquid slid across her tongue, Lauren knew the rumours were true: the potency of the drug was doubled by passage through the male gland. The effect was immediate: she felt giddy; a shiver moved through her body; her vision seemed to shrink and she swooned across Ean's prostrate body. His naked penis swelled and pulsed above her lips. Again she clasped the glans, tightening her grip until the next clear droplet hung from the open tip. Then she urged him to tell what happened next. And now, as Ean spoke in broken phrases and Lauren closed her eyes and licked his droplets, it was as if the punishment in the cabin was unfolding under her own becharmed gaze.

  She saw Leah's master, Merek, his expression freezing cold, standing between Leah's upraised thighs, putting delicious terror there, squeezing her puffy inner lips flat, smoothing them open and plastering them back with the sticky oil that she had exuded. Then he took hold of the twist of Maria's knickers that still protruded from her bottom and very slowly, against the tightness, began to withdraw it.

  It made Lauren shiver and squirm. Her hand that had been collaring Ean's penis reached down beneath his ball sac and pressed two fingertips up against his anus. His penis bucked. Her lips sealed softly about its head and gently sucked the delicious intoxicating droplets that the gland was yielding while her fingertips kept taunting that defiant muscle in his cleft. She made him moan from the continual milking as, in her state of heightened vision, she seemed to see it all – the whipping of those tender inner lips, so deliciously plastered open; the narrow, searing lines criss-crossing each inner surface; and Leah's oil exuding like nectar through the very pores, her spray springing with each snap of the crop. Soon those inner lips would be swelling swiftly, grotesquely beautiful, like the petals of a lovely flower infested by galls.

  Lauren, now beside herself with arousal, opened her eyes. Ean was breathing deeply, trying to delay his climax but almost on the verge of coming. Gently she withdrew her fingers from the cleft under his sac. Then she sat up. Still facing him, she manoeuvred herself across his chest and into the riding position astride his face. She took hold of his penis with one hand reaching behind her. Then she took her open sex and fed it through his lips – for it was important that it went all the way inside – and kept feeding it in, forcing his mouth yet wider to take it, while she clutched his penis ever tighter, choking it. She made him drink all the wetness that was coming out of her.

  Suddenly his sucking became hard, urgent, almost as hard as she was squeezing him. Immediately she stopped squeezing and pressed her thumb where his penis rooted in his belly. He bucked and tried to thrust his tongue, like a cock, up inside her sex – far up – and she felt his bobbing penis seeking succour, thrusting at the air. She pressed harder and harder with her thumb until his hips rose from the bed and she felt the straining penis curving over and its mouth stabbing wetly up against her lower spine. And that contact, the wet stabbing in the small of her back, so rhythmically repeated and in so sensitive a place, stirred Lauren's arousal cruelly far. She had not wanted to allow her guard to drop, but now she could not stop herself. She grasped Ean's head and, in shudders of inescapable pleasure, deep inside his sucking mouth, impaled upon his swollen tongue, fucking it, she felt her captive cunt helplessly yielding its climax. Then she collapsed forwards over his face and lay panting, her burning cheek against the coolness of the pillow. Ean did not attempt to move; he was still acquiescent and that gave Lauren heart. She reached back, far back, in order to renew the contact with his penis and found it still erect and very hot indeed: the shaft was slippery with exuded juices and a new warm heavy droplet hung at the tip.

  Lauren climbed off Ean's face and crouched beside him. Her tongue-tip gently sucke
d that droplet from his taunted glans. Then she immediately kissed him, poking that tongue-tip, soaked in his pre-come, far into his mouth until she again felt his erection buck. Withdrawing her tongue, she murmured: 'My darling . . . Ean . . . .' She leant over his penis and pressed her moist lips against the sensitive upturned underside, softly sucking the pleasure centre near the crown, until she heard his first gasp. Then she immediately drew back, holding the penis very still, her finger and thumb collared round its base. She raised her head and whispered: 'You have not finished your story.'

  As Lauren continued to stimulate his leaking penis, Ean spoke with his eyes tightly shut. 'After the whipping, the master threw his boatman from the cabin and then came back to Leah.'

  'And what did he do to her?'

  'He unfastened her gag and he . . .' Ean's voice hesitated as the emotion welled inside him.

  'What?' Lauren maintained the gentle rhythm of that finger-collar round the base of his soaking penis. When Ean did not go on she whispered: 'He kissed her, didn't he?' Again she felt his penis jerk, so she repeated: 'He kissed her – wouldn't you, Ean?' And she felt it jerk once more and she clasped its head with her other hand and kissed his lips and he moaned into her mouth. 'No, not yet, my darling . . .' With this other hand, she made a second finger-collar – very wet – and held the widest girth of his penis lightly encircled, as if by a little wet rubbery vagina that every so often would go into a soft moist spasm. She maintained this singular simulation while she taunted him gently by taking up the story.

  'I see her now: the little slave, fully naked in her proud master's arms, returning his kisses – wanting them, even with her legs wrenched open in the air, even with her wanton knob so buried in the swollen scarlet petals of her punished girlish folds . . . And – see – he tries to touch it and she gasps into his mouth. Even through the pain she experiences pleasure as he bursts aside her burning petals to taunt arousal into that sensitive little tip.'

  Lauren pressed her thumb-pad into the underside of Ean's penis an inch below the cap and slowly rotated it back and forth as she continued to ply him with her vision of the story.

  'The master tries to unsheath her lovely clitoris but it will not come out properly, though he kisses her gently and her legs are still open and her little cunt is burning, scarlet from the whipping. But all her pleasure is being channelled through that buried erection that he tries to extract. Our little slave groans and twists in her tethers; her master holds her clitoris nipped, pursuing each surge of her twisting, preventing slippage. And for that long beautiful time of writhing, the master watches her face. And he smiles with satisfaction when her pleasure does not come.'

  Lauren smiled now, for she had kept Ean's erection strong. She took her thumb away and replaced it with her pouted lips, whose sucking then quick withdrawal extracted another heavy droplet from the tip of his penis, to fall into the clear pool that was steadily accumulating on his belly.

  'Do you see the parallels, Ean? The master stimulates her clitoris till it subsides into acquiescence; her arousal is ever-present yet her pleasure does not come. How beautiful . . . All the turmoil in her lovely belly is expressed in oil – just as you are making now, Ean. Her burning petals glisten with it. If you close your eyes you will see her now. Tiny, delicious beads of musk mist the creases of her thighs. See – her master's tongue-tip licks them but does not venture up against her knob. He tortures her this way. And now he unties her toes, massages them, kisses the aching muscles of her inner thighs, then says he will possess her in a very special way.'

  'What way . . . ?' Ean murmured.

  'The way the monks used to use her . . . that is what he tells her. He brings a length of hessian sacking. He asks her to turn over.' Lauren sat up, whispering: 'Turn over, Ean, on to your front. Let me help. Lie on the pillow. Double it up. Do not trap this . . .' She carefully directed his erection down and then, against the tension, back between his open thighs, so that she retained access. It curved down like a buttress into the mattress. Its balls were clinging to the stem with the tightness of acute excitement. She spread his knees to expose the cleft of his buttocks to touching. Then she stroked her trembling fingertips gently down the crease from the base of his spine; when they reached the puckered mouth she let them rest there very lightly. And while she spoke, her fingertips made little nervous strokes and teasing gestures up against that fleshy rim.

  'Our slave-girl lies open-thighed – just as you now lie – but she is open-bellied and stiff-nippled, with her girl-parts now against the roughness of the sacking. She closes her eyes when her master spreads her cheeks.' Gently Lauren slipped her other hand under the head of Ean's penis and milked his oily overflow on to her fingers. 'Then the master sinks his glans.'

  Ean gasped out loud as Lauren's oiled fingers slowly opened his anus and slid inside him. Lauren experienced deep satisfaction from this sexual act, a penetration at once depraved and sweet, bunched female fingers stretching male inner skin. It kindled memories of that night with her first lover – her first move to possession, her first true pleasure. In her mind Lauren now saw that other scene, one of monastic quiet, the monks gathered round the lovely girl-slave on the path to training.

  'The monks taught Leah anal pleasure, Ean. Even as her hymen remained unbroken, they taught her bottom all the skills of squeezing; they taught the pleasure how to come that way. And in that cabin on the boat, her master seeks only to advance her from where her tutors left off. Now I shall do the same with you. There is a place inside you, up behind the base of your cock – a swelling and ah, yes . . . it is deliciously enlarged.' Ean moaned as Lauren stroked the special gland. 'Now squeeze my fingers with your bottom, squeeze like Leah's bottom does in cleaving to her master's penis so tightly she can feel every detail of its shape' – Lauren's other hand now demonstrated on Ean's penis – 'this thick vein all the way up its undersurface, and this rim around its cap. She feels the thrum of fluid rising up his tube, tickling that pulse just inside her bottom where the muscle grips it. Then the spray of long-held semen bursts inside her; even the tightness of her muscle spasm cannot choke its flow.' Lauren broke off. 'Turn over, Ean. No – I want to keep my fingers in you, for Leah has not come.' He had to lift his leg over her arm and he gasped as he felt her fingers twisting inside him. As his penis bobbed up, Lauren captured the cap in her mouth and just held it, her lips a tight ring around it, simulating the grip of the slave-girl's spasm round her master's penis. Finally her lips released their grip and she sat up and watched the trembling penis dribble seepage from its tip. She kept her fingers inside as she continued.

  'The slave-girl dare not move; her arousal is so intense that she is weeping. Her master, seeking a second pleasure, heedlessly thrusts anew, through the pools of jism still inside her. And suddenly her own climax is triggered. Do you know what it feels like to a girl, Ean? It's like a red-hot needle pushing up the shaft of her clitoris, up the deep part, and all the way inside her – a burning, sizzling pleasure that impales her like a squirming thing.'

  She felt a shudder through the root of Ean's penis, then hot semen began to spill into her cupped hand, which carried it to his mouth and forced him to drink it. 'There . . . Good boy . . . You are learning,' she whispered, licking her palm then kissing him deeply, licking salty glutinous circles round his tongue. Deep inside him, the fingers of her other hand proved how generously swollen the gland remained. The more she tongued inside his mouth, the more that gland inside him tightened and hardened until the inner skin felt as if it were stretched around a buried ebony ball. And while she tongued and toyed with him she murmured: 'Do you see now, Ean, why Leah has chosen slavery? Unbridled possession is surely sexuality at its rawest and most beautifully extreme. See how she lies there, her arms outstretched in sweet submission, breast naked, breathing deeply, awaiting her master's next command. And she is still aroused – for that inner passion never goes away. When he moves to lift her, she murmurs softly, for the sacking draped between her thighs remains, a
dhering. When he frees her from its cruel embrace, the pattern of its warp and weft remains imprinted into those inner lips and into the delicate smoothness of her beautifully swollen knob.'

  Lauren slid her fingers out of Ean's body. She stared at his pulsing erection. 'I am pleased that you have held yourself strong all this while.' Then she lay down beside him and directed him to lie upon her and to go inside her with his penis. She took him very far, for she was very ready; she took him to the balls. But she would not let him move. Instead she wrapped her legs around his, drawing them open and she held him tightly, one arm around his shoulders, the other reaching down his back, her fingers slipping inside him, seeking again that place, the swollen buried ball, and simply pressing and tapping it, pressing then flicking, protractedly, at a pace of her choosing, smothering his anguished gasps with her lips, then grasping his head and whispering, 'Wait . . .' until – again at her choosing – the paroxysms of deliverance took him and the powerful, deeply satisfying squirts of thick semen came against her womb.

  Afterwards, when it had liquefied inside her, she knelt astride his mouth and made him drink it and found she did not have to force him. And as she suckled him this way, she reached back and felt his erection stiffening for more. It was with his penis rising through her fingers and with her flesh inside his mouth – all the way in again – and with his lips drawing sexual sustenance from her body that Lauren's climax came again, like a freezing electric needle this time, sparking pleasure-jolts inside her. It came twice more that night and she kept him in bed till noon next day. Her new groom was handsome, strong and acutely responsive to the effects of the potion. He was ideally suited to her current needs. She laid plans to enjoy his submissive flesh whenever the opportunity afforded.

  But by nightfall he had gone from the house.