Chapter Five (see previous chapter)

He was on time to her office, and possibly even more nervous than the day before, worried that everyone she worked with was aware of her control. There were only a few people about, everyone having scrammed as fast as possible on a Friday after work. He carried with him a small gift bag, the top stuffed with tissue paper. Arriving at her door he found a note indicating he should knock and go into her office suite.

She was standing and looking out the large window, sixteen floors up, at the city and lovely surroundings. She wore a dark knit dress that accentuated the clean curves of her body and framed that high, tight ass. Her long dark hair was loose and cascading down her back, shimmering as she turned to face him. She looked exquisite, her killer smile and inviting eyes lighting up with pleasure at his presence, making him feel like this was the only place in the world he wanted to be at this particular moment. She beckoned him over to kiss and caress his cheek then hand him a flute of champagne from the window ledge. His look inquired for him.

“Cheers James, help me celebrate a big settlement for the firm today.”

“Congratulations, Miss Brianna.”

She had that confident, pleased look of things going her way, and thanked him for remembering to address her correctly. She went on to explain that they would be going out in public and that they would be James and Brianna while at the bar. “I don’t share my personal life with anyone outside the group, except Mrs. Burns, of course,” bringing yesterday’s embarrassment flooding back to poor James. “I don’t generally play in public, James, but there are a couple of things I’ll expect of you. One, you’ll behave like a gentleman at all times, and two, never contradict me after I’ve made a decision.”

She looked to the hand James was using to hold the small gift bag, startling him into action. “I brought your underwear back, cleaned like you asked.” Earlier James had thought long and hard about how to present the panties back to Bri. He had the feeling that smuggled back, crumpled up in his pocket would not go over real well.

Bri gave him delightedly surprised look and hugged him close, saying, “You clever,clever, boy. I’ll have to remember that about you, James.”

With that they left the office for the couple block walk to the pub. She took hold of his hand in the elevator and held it until they were seated at a corner of the bar, leaving no doubt to anyone observing that they were a couple. She flagged down the bartender and ordered a couple of beers, causing James to laugh.

“Something funny, James?”

“When I was old enough, my Uncle told me to always look for a pretty girl who wasn’t afraid to belly up to the bar and order a beer, she’d be the most interesting to talk with, and least stuck on herself. I just don’t know if he meant this interesting.”

They smiled together as she said, “Let’s toast to your uncle, who sounds like a very wise man.” They then proceeded to have a great first date, where he learned she was from Ohio, played point guard on the basketball team and was offered a scholarship to Northwestern. She worked hard but was always a backup. She worked harder in school finishing summa cum laude, and stayed to attend Northwestern Law. She loved Chicago, and was offered jobs at some prestigious firms, but followed her live-in boyfriend out to the West Coast. She thought they’d marry, but he dumped her when her success overshadowed his, leaving her for a massage therapist in San Bernadino. She laughed about it now, but was really down when it happened, threw herself into work and made a name for herself in the firm. She’d met Sue several years ago at a conference, they’d hit it off and she’d had a whole new world open itself up to her, her take charge nature being something to be celebrated , not hidden. Her father had died 8 years previously from cancer, her mom lived in Florida, was very healthy and active. Her grandmother was 86y.old [ born in the Phillipines] in a nursing home near mom. No brothers or sisters, but 2 great friends who still lived in Ohio, and knew of her lifestyle only peripherally.

During their conversation she’d managed to order an appetizer platter, more beers, accept congratulations on the settlement figure from some lawyers she worked with, and watch with amusement as a bunch of guys wanted to talk with her date about his playing days. The bartender got back to them and asked about another round, “I’ll have one more, but he’s done,” looking at James “these Michigan guys could never hold their liquor that well,” a dig at his college affiliation. “Water or Coke, James,” she asked with a little head tilt. “Water,” he nodded, smiling at the bartender.

She leaned in to whisper, “We’ll be leaving soon and I want you sober to drive me back to your place. You’ve been a good boy and have earned some playtime tonight, James,” lightly running her hand along his inner thigh to cup his package causing him to flinch. She laughed and said, “Mine.”

–

They arrived at his car, and as he went to open her door she laid her hand on his.

“James, before we leave, repeat your phrases for me.”

He looked down to her eyes, color rising to his cheeks as he breathed slowly before beginning.

“Yes Miss Brianna.” “ No Miss Brianna.” “Please Miss Brianna.” “Thank you Miss Brianna.”

“Very well done, James. When we get to your place those are the only words I want to hear from you. You may open the door for me now.”

She slid easily into the car, the faint scent of her perfume lingering as he shut the door. She smiled mischievously and turned in the seat facing him as he pulled out and headed toward his townhouse. Her index finger kept up a distracting figure of eight pattern on his right thigh, and whenever he chanced a glance her way, he was reminded to keep his eyes on the road.

Arriving in his parking spot a 20 minute eternity later, she made sure he offered an arm to escort her to the door. He laughed to himself for actually fumbling to get the right key, and wondered if the nervous energy made him seem charming or just lame.

Strangely, she flipped the light switch before he could reach, then, gently propelled him to the center of the living room, almost like she knew the floor plan. She spun him to face her, stepped back, and slipped off her heels.

“Mmm, feels good to get out of those shoes. James, I want you to stand right where you are. Spread your legs a little more and clasp your hands together at your lower back. Be a dear and keep your hands up high enough above your ass for me to get a good look.”

“There you go. James, do you think you can remember this exact position?”

“Yes Miss Brianna” struggled out of his chest.

“Excellent,” in her indulgent teacher voice, “Now, when I get back from exploring your kitchen, same spot, same position, buck naked.”

His eyes widened and regarded her warily, surprised she would make him do this on their first real date.

“Quickly, James, clothes folded neatly on the floor next to you before I get back” as she turned giving him another look at the way the dark knit dress clung to her backside. She had him pegged for an ass man at this point, and thank God, because she’d always felt it to be her best feature. He tried to calm himself and move expediently at the same time, happy he’d cleaned out the fridge and put away the dishes earlier. From the kitchen he heard her call out “James, when you’re done, keep your eyes down and focused on my shoes”, “OK?”

“Yes Miss Brianna”.

“Oh, would you like a little water, too.”

“Please Miss Brianna”, trying to sound casual.

She returned to lean against the archway that separated the living room from the small dining area. Very pleased with the view, she stopped to take inventory of the young man before her. Well muscled upper body tapering to a narrow waist and hips, check. Sandy blonde hair, grey/ green eyes, handsome features, check. Great abs, check. He was sporting a semi, and his dick dangled down, heavy looking over top of his balls. Shit. Check and double check. She was well aware of the puffy, damp feeling between her own legs and thought to her herself, “Careful Bri, it would be too easy to start spending a lot of time complicating your life with this cutie.” And “Damn, damn, damn Sue all to hell for setting me up like this.”

She waited for the prolonged scrutiny to make him uncomfortable and provoke some type of movement.

He looked up, and she was ready with another of those irritating little victory smiles he’d been seeing all week.

“Eyes down!” she admonished, paused, then caught him off guard with a soft, “You’re very beautiful to look at James.”

His mouth creased into a tight little grimace, upset he’d given her another win. He stood emotionally confused, trying to get back to center. HE was the one with smooth confidence and compliments that girls seemed to love. HE gave out purposeful kisses and caresses designed to move things along to the bedroom. HE wasn’t the eye candy, he enjoyed the candy.

Breathe.

Just breathe and concentrate on the shoes. Simple black stilettos. Standing guard in the middle of his living room.

“James,” starting toward him, “how should you respond to a compliment.”

Almost back to center now, “Thank you, Miss Brianna.”

“Correct. You should make it a point to always acknowledge a woman’s compliment, it’s just good manners. I will always expect good manners James.”

She seemed to swim up from underneath him, so close, her 5’9” forcing her to look up into his eyes. He felt the fingers of one hand slide up the back of his neck, clutching his hair while the other cupped his cheek, both pulling him down to her waiting lips. Stopping just mockingly short.

“Would you like to kiss me James?”

“Yes, Miss Brianna.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, Miss Brianna.”

She tasted faintly of alcohol and peppermint lifesaver, and as he relaxed into the kiss, she struck out possessively with her tongue, slowly but methodically forcing his backward, laying claim to this part of him.

Her intention had been a brief tease, but her enjoyment overwhelmed intentions, and she waited him out. Waited for his mouth to go meltingly soft, yielding itself to her. His cock was rampant now as she broke the kiss and glided to his side, one hand trailing down his stomach to firmly encircle the base of his erection, the other slipping to his ass cheek, nails digging almost painfully.

She felt the shiver run all the way to the head of his cock as she breathed into his ear, “Ahhh, it seems someone’s quite the little whore for my attention. Did I give you permission to get hard?”

“N n no Miss Brianna,” croaked out of him.

“No indeed,” as she started a rhythmic tugging at his root, “Fortunately for you I happen to adore erections, this one in particular shows great promise. If you continue to be a good boy I may even let you take care of it later.”

She stopped her ministrations and stepped directly behind him, standing quietly while his ragged breaths and tense muscles relaxed to something approaching normal. She waited just that moment longer, till the only sound was their combined breathing…..

He heard the zipper at the back of her dress start its’ descent, and the silence of the room, combined with the maelstrom in his mind, made it sound like the loudest can-opener ever created. He didn’t know if he actually heard it hit the ground, or just imagined the noise. He definitely didn’t imagine her hands resting on his hips, or tits pressed into his back. Her warm breath tickled the skin of his neck. His hands gripped piteously to his wrists, helping him not squirm, or worse, break position. His cock just bobbed obscenely in front of him.

Her left handed lifted and stroked his shoulder, massaging for her pleasure, not his.

“James, I am very impressed with your housekeeping skills. Your home is very neat and orderly.”

“Thank you, Miss Brianna.”

“I’m going to go upstairs and snoop around. Yes, James you heard right. Snoop. I’ll be checking for pictures or panties left over from the sluts you’ve been with, porn mags, you know, things you’d be too embarrassed to show me normally.” Nails gripping into shoulder flesh menacingly, “Will I be disappointed James, will I find the phone numbers of a harem of girls who can’t wait to hook up with you again?”

“No Miss Brianna.” He wasn’t a pig, though no doubt, had a knack for finding willing partners, never letting any of them get to close, or God forbid, leave little reminders of themselves.

“We’ll see James, we’ll see,” she chuckled softly. Her patient tone returned, “After I’m completely upstairs, pick up my dress and drape it neatly over the couch. Then back in position. Remember James, I want those pretty eyes of yours glued to those shoes, OK?”

“Yes Miss Brianna.”

“James, didn’t I just compliment your eyes.”

“Yes, tha..” Catching himself, “Thank you, Miss Brianna.”

Bri smiled openly now, almost feeling sorry for teasing him. Almost. She was getting way too hot and horny to end this little training session prematurely.

As she headed up the steps, he caught site of the purple thong snugly hugging the enticing gap between her legs, smiling that the woman could really make a thong dance.

Bri took her time wandering through the upstairs, she had no real intention of looking for anything in particular, but she just couldn’t resist the opportunity to keep him off balance. The bedroom and master bath were neat as a pin, the king bed made precisely. She wondered if he had a maid service. There was a guest bedroom and an office set up in the third bedroom. Two computer monitors, a large desk and some pictures on the wall of family, his sister and husband were a handsome couple, and the niece jut adorable. One photo of him from high school, in a football uniform, celebrating with some friends after a game. “Oh James,” she thought to herself, “you must have broken a thousand hearts in school.” She returned to the walk-in closet in his bedroom, selected a belt and picked up a soft pillow from his bed, and then started for the stairs….

James waited patiently, growing a bit nervous that she’d been up there awhile. When he heard her descending the stairs his eyes locked up with the shoes and his back straightened just a little more. His cock proud and upright.

Bri draped the belt over the couch, and moved in behind him. Lightly running her nails down his back she asked sweetly, “James, what color are the panties you’ll be washing tonight?”

“Purp..,” shit he thought, how could I have fallen for that.

“So you were looking at me when I told you to look at the shoes,” indignantly continuing, “Are you just dense?”

“No I didn’t, I mean just out of the corner of my eye..”

“James!” he was shouted to silence, and in an icy tone “Think very carefully before you say one more word, because whether I stay or leave depends on it. James, did you look at me?”

He bit back a retort and answered, “Yes, Miss Brianna.”

“Dis-O-bedient, James. Disobedience always requires correction.”

She stepped in close to administer a hard slap to his ass that made the muscular cheeks quiver. She reached quickly around to his chest and pinched hard on the nipple, not letting go and causing him to turn and also break position. “Don’t you dare move,” letting go to grab his hair from behind and placing him back where she wanted. “Hands up higher on your back, bend your knees to make your ass a better target.” She circled to the front of him, noticing his dick starting to droop, lifting his chin, “James, James, James,” she stage whispered, “I’m going to beat your ass now with that belt,” she turned his head to the couch, “your own belt.” She continued in a more conversational tone, “I have a certain number of strokes in mind James, if your man enough to get there, I might just make it feel all better afterwards.”

He waited, half squatting in position, looking at her magnificent body. Her breasts on the smaller side, upturned, capped by nipples the color and shape of pencil erasers, taunting him with there bullet erectness. Her waist was narrow and her midsection defined by workouts, the landing strip just as perfect as he remembered yesterday.

She moved out of eyesight to grab the belt, he felt leather caress his back, he heard, “Ask for your punishment, James, remember your phrases and ask nicely.”

“Please, Miss Brianna.”

The crack across his ass resounded immediately, the pain searing, almost causing him to jump.

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK CRACK, pause, her had squeezing in the pain. He barely maintained position, but steadied himself, unwilling to move. She had challenged him, and he was tired of her winning. WHAP, the top of his thigh, then the other.

A steady rhythm ensued, marking his ass from top to bottom. He was biting down hard, eyes closed, hands doing everything they could to keep position. He’d lost track of how many blows, 15 maybe 16, when they suddenly stopped. He opened his eyes to see she had materialized in front of him, closely examining his face. She used the doubled over belt to tease the nipple she’d twisted earlier.

“You’ve still got 5 coming, James, or you can wimp out and we’ll call it a night.” She smiled, watching his manly pride rear up. He was still swallowing back pain, but defiantly looked her in the eye.

“If you want them James, you’ll have to ask me for each one, and they won’t be the love taps I’ve been dishing out so far.”

His face blanched slightly, but he stiffened and clearly said, “Please, Miss Brianna.”

She resumed position and fire seemed to explode across his ass. She then went trough the next three, his breathing now labored. “Last one James, I’d like you to take it for me, but you’ve done so well I’ll let you come even if you say no.” She almost melted with joy when she heard him strangle out, “P-Please, Miss Brianna.”

She tapped his ass lovingly with the belt, dropping it to step around and reach behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. He told himself that he would take whatever she could dish out, but the sudden tenderness was infinitely worse than the beating. He could feel the corner of his eyes filling with tears and he wanted desperately to turn away from her, too embarrassed to show her how she’d gotten to him. She held him tighter, seeing the welling in his eyes, and said, “Kiss me hard, James.” And he did, hard and long, his hands reaching to take hold of her ass and mold her to him, practically lifting her off the ground. His cock, which had gone completely flaccid during the punishment, reared up along her thigh eventually pressing to her belly between them.

Bri luxuriated in his passion, inwardly very happy that he obviously wasn’t a pain slut. She liked dispensing pain for discipline, not pleasure. And right now she wanted to continue training him through pleasure.

She broke the kiss and had him lay face down, with the pillow cushioning his cock and balls. She laid down atop him with her legs spread, her thighs staddling his lower back. She felt his whole body shiver as she began instructing into his ear, “Mmm, such a good boy for me, taking it all. I want you to hump that pillow, James, hump it slow with me lying right on top of you. That’s a good boy keep that same slow pace for me.”

She slid fractionally lower to his ass and he could feel the slickness of her grinding over his right ass cheek. “Ohh My GOD, the heat from your ass feels so incredible on my pussy. Oh don’t you dare stop moving JAMES, Oh , AH, AHHH , Oh God, OH OHHHH,” as she ground down hard and shocked him with the speed and ferocity of her orgasm, spasming all over his exposed ass, mewling incoherent little sounds, and slowly subsiding to a satiated stop. She hugged him from behind and kissed his back while she regained herself, finally sliding back to tease his ear.

“Oh James, that was marvelous, you did such a good job with your hips, fucking your pillow just right for me. And your cock, well it gets so hard when I’m next to you. I think you really like being my boytoy.” Her words, and the way she just used him almost had him dying in shame, but he needed to come so bad at this point that he kept up the rhythm, the pillow having creased into a pleasurable furrow for his cock and balls. “Look up at my shoes James,” he craned his neck slightly, “shoes are so important to a woman. She can use them to feel so attractive, or powerful. You’re going to make me feel very attractive and powerful when you come all over that pillow James. Come on James, show me how badly you want to be my good boy, cum for me.” as she tongued his ear and nipped at his neck.

James felt as if his whole being was centered in his swollen cock and balls. His breath snorted out of his nostrils and he made a growling noise deep in his throat. The first shot felt like it had the force of a fire hose, almost painful. He bucked through several powerful strokes and he swore he came longer than he ever had in his life. When he came back into his head, she was lying beside him gently rubbing his ass, which was still a dull mass of pain.

“Roll over James,” and as he rolled off the pillow she climbed back on him to lay her head on his chest. His hands stroked her hair and down her back as she listened to his heart hammer in his chest, eventually slowing to a normal beat….

She would have been content to stay there with him like that all night, but knew she had to give him some time to process the events of this night. For that matter, she needed her own time to think. She slid up to kiss him tenderly, “You were a lot of fun tonight, James. You are allowed to speak freely now, just remember to be respectful. Are you OK?”, said looking down with concern into his eyes.

“Yeah, my ass aches pretty good though, Miss Brianna,. You’re stronger than you look,” giving her a meaningful smirk.

“Mmmm….well that’s what happens to bad boys who can’t follow instructions, and it didn’t seem to prevent you from shooting all over that pillow.”

James colored and started to look away when she caught his chin and kissed him again and then pulled back a few inches, “A little embarrassed?”

“Probably just a little more than a little” he winced slightly, “it sucks that just about any orgasm a guy has is a good one.”

Brianna gave a full throaty laugh, “Oh stick with me James, I’ll have you cum in ways and positions you can’t even imagine.” Then more seriously, “No really, you were fantastic tonight James, you allowed me to control the action and I was obviously very turned on, you did that for me and I’m so proud to be with you right now. That’s the way it is for me, I love the control James, it’s what revs my engine, and it has to be part of whoever wants to be with me. You seemed to enjoy letting go and letting me lead tonight.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the warmth and concern she was conveying, “Yes, it was different from anything I’ve done before, but you’re right, I liked it very much, and I liked being with you,” feeling very vulnerable as he spoke.

She kissed him again, and laid her head back on his chest and hugged him close. “James, I don’t know any better than you where this goes, and really it’s all up to you. So you know, sometimes this lifestyle is only about playtime, and sometimes it’s a deeper part of a relationship. If you like I’d be happy to start your training, but again, with me James it’s not all just play time, sometimes it might be sitting quietly at my feet or getting me a drink of water while we’re watching a movie, or making us a peanut butter an jelly sandwich because that’s what I wanted. You might like to be with a different type of Domme, one who just wanted to play?”

“What kind of peanut butter?”

“Excuse me?” she looked up and queried.

“What kind of peanut butter,” he reintegrated, “Smooth or chunky?”

“Smooth Why?”

“Oh, thank God, for a minute I was worried this didn’t have a chance,” he teased. “OWW,” yelped out, “What was that for?” as his nipple was pinched and released.

“That James, was because I can,” before gently licking the area and making him shiver, then looking up at him with that Cheshire cat grin, “and obedient boys should always remember who there teasing.” She worked herself forward on him purposefully giving her thighs a squeeze around him, kissed his cheek and announced, “And now we have to get up, dressed and you have to give me a ride back to my car.”

~~~~~~~

Stone’s Throw: “Boytoy” is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)

Ariella slowly drifted back to consciousness, delicious thoughts of the dungeon she had just ‘visited’ and her spanking experiences turning over in her mind. Shallara never hurt her; Ariella preferred to think of it as heavy stimulation. She always came out of a spanking feeling aroused and alive and with a closer bond than ever to Shallara.

Sometimes the spanking were pure pleasure; she loved those most intimate ones, draped across Shallara’s knee on the warm leather couch in front of the fire. Shallara would caress her bottom between strokes, playing her fingernails around the patterns that the hand smacks left. The arousal would grow slowly and surely, and as the spanking progressed, she would often feel Shallara’s massaging hands probing between her moist thighs. And it always ended in long cuddles, creamy liqueurs and a feeling of love and well being.

On other occasions, Shallara would play the domme; sometimes a teacher, sometimes an assertive matron…or whatever the mood drove her to try. The role play excited them both, and the sexual excitement came as much from the play as the punishments that Shallara laid on. She found it humiliating and arousing to be bent over, sometimes over a chair, sometimes with hands on her knees, and made to offer her bottom in such an unconditional way. She could sense her private parts on display, open and vulnerable, and aware that she was unable to hide the swelling and dampness that always occurred. There was that ever present element of arousal, the stickiness between her thighs, the dewiness on her lips, and that feeling that her breasts were on fire and wanting to burst out from their skin.

Although playful and exuberant, Shallara hated to hurt her. There were times when Shallara thought she had over-played a stroke, and Ariella loved the compassion and attention that would follow: gentle massaging of a soothing cream into the offending welt, kisses and apologies. She often joked afterward that Shallara was really too soft, kind and compassionate to really be her domme.

So it was with surprise, that as Ariella tuned in more closely to the voices in the entrance hall, she heard Shallara saying: “I thought you weren’t meant to come back, Tim ? What are you doing here? “.

“May I come in please? I have to speak to you. ”

Shallara felt less than pleased. She had just been leading Ariella down into a wonderful trance, and this interruption was really unwelcome. Seeing who was now standing there, Shallara felt acid.

Tim stepped through the door and had a flashback to his thoughts when he had last entered the apartment. When he had last stepped through this door, he had challenged himself to get Shallara in bed within two weeks. He had left impotent and with an invisible restraint around his crotch. That target now seemed very remote, and in fact was at the back of his mind. It was his sexual freedom he wanted. Tim remembered the padded trestle he had seen in the sitting area on his last visit, and his mind had been churning over the possibilities. Maybe, just maybe, she would accept his offer?

He half expected that she would respond mockingly; more likely that she would reject his suggestion out of hand. In fact he was a bit stunned at what did come back to him: “Tim, are you sure you are prepared to be spanked? Do you know how much that hurts? Actually….I don’t think you are man enough to take it from me!”.

There was a low murmur from someone with a male voice. Ariella could only pick up the trailing words: “……but if I do, then it is all over? I get my libido back? I don’t need to get yours or Mrs Stern’s permission anymore?”.

“Agreed, Tim. But the right hand ring stays on. You are never going to abuse women again…”

The voices trailed off as she heard Shallara take the man into a spare room that led off the entrance lobby. Ariella got up and walked over to the liquor cabinet to pour herself a Baileys. It was creamy and sweet, just right for her mood. The fire flickered in the hearth reminding her of the dungeon dream she had just had. She sat and waited for Shallara to rejoin her, her lips caressing the glass’s rim, savoring the drops of nectar that seemed to trickle down the edges. Her tongue darting in occasionally to lick at the creamy contents. As she waited Enya played on, and her existence had merely seemed to drift from a sleeping dream to a waking dream.

Ariella turned to the doorway as she heard Shallara enter. Shallara’s fingers came up to her lips, indicating her to remain silent. Then she was gone. A few moments later, Shallara came back through the door leading a man by the elbow. He was naked; Ariella wanted to giggle as she caught sight of his semi erect member which seemed to point the way ahead. A red silk cloth was wound around his eyes in a blindfold, and his breathing seemed heavy. Well built, not too much flab – Ariella’s mind did somersaults as she tried to figure out what was going on. Shallara’s fingers remained on her own lips, urging her to remain silent.

Reaching the center of the room, Shallara stopped, and whispered in the man’s ear. He stood erect, hands at his sides, his mouth deadpan. Shallara moved quickly over to the padded trestle in the corner, and brought it back to the center of the room, placing in front of the blindfolded man.

“Bend over this trestle Tim…..are you sure you really want to go through with this?”. The man reached forward, feeling for where the trestle was and then bent forward. “Grip the front legs, Tom…..spread your legs as wide as they go…make them touch the back legs…there you go!”

Ariella could sense the sexual tension. The semi-flaccid member had sprung upright, and seemed to be stabbing at the underside of the padded trestle. Shallara glided back to the wall unit in the corner of the room. In the one hand she had a whippy little cane they had purchased once at an adult shop. It stung like crazy and left angry red wheals; in the other, her favorite little strap. About two inches wide, eighteen inches long, it ended in two tails. In skilled hands, it was versatile – it could sting, it could bruise, it could burnish, it could bite! She seemed to be breathing deeply; a look had entered her eyes that Ariella had never seen. She paced around the bent and blindfolded man, rubbing his back lightly, caressing his buttocks.

Time stood still. The bent over man shifted uncomfortably. Shallara looked around, and cast one of her impish smiles Ariella’s way. Suddenly she was gone. When she came back into the room, she was carrying the wooden spoon and a baking tray. The silence prevailed, and she barely acknowledged Ariella’s presence. Shallara bent down gracefully, her knees together, and placed the baking tray directly beneath the man’s hanging head.

She stood in front of him, and gently took hold of handful of his hair, pulling his head up. “Open your mouth, Tim…”. A measured pause as she played out the drama. Even sitting 5 feet away, her feet curled up under her, Ariella could start to smell the musty scents wafting off these these two players. “It’s a bite stick, Tim…..now close your teeth around it. …..You have to grip it tightly Tim. If you drop it ……you will walk out of this room, and never see me again. And don’t…do not, under any circumstance, leave go of the trestle legs in front of you! Do you understand Tim ? This is going to hurt you. Hurt you more than you have ever experienced! You are going to wish that you had never asked me to do this to you! But you have, and you know what?” “Shallara’s voice seemed to get huskier with each sentence. It was as if she was battling to control herself. “ I am going to enjoy it. It excites me Tim. I know how you feel about women, and on behalf of each of those ladies out there who you have ever put down, I am gong to whip your scraggly butt with a cane. I am gong to watch you jiggle it Tim. And I am going to get off on it!”

Ariella watched her closely. Her excitement was evident; it was lust, and for the first time, she saw the latent sadistic streak in her Domme. Until now it had always been about control, and power with some sensuality and rough play thrown in. But this time it was something different. This man had brought the animal out in her, and she was hot. Ariella found her own feelings starting to build. She desperately wanted to play with herself, but she knew she had to keep absolutely still, to keep undetected.

Ariella stepped back and watched. The head seemed to droop, but the stick stayed grasped in his mouth. “You did say no more than six, didn’t you Tim ?”. The nod was almost imperceptible. “So if we aim for around 5..or maybe just a touch more, that works for you?”. Shallara picked up the cane from the coffee table. She held it lightly in her fingers, almost like a violinist gripping her bow. Her red painted nails seemed to be set off against the ash white cane. And with a slight flick of her wrist, she sent it searing across the man’s bottom. The man yelped and jerked his bottom in. But the bite-stick stayed gripped between his teeth.

Shallara paced around him, He could not see her, but her presence was obvious. She was breathing deeply, and flicking the cane rhythmically. The next three strokes were delivered in quick succession. It was as if a thick red crayon had been used to draw a line of pain, joining his two bottom cheeks. His hands stoically grasped the front legs, but he seemed to be doing a dance with his pelvis. He looked silly as he waved his bottom around, trying desperately to find some relief. His penis flopped around under the trestle, any vestiges of an erection long gone.

He jerked as her fingers traced the lines. The welts stood out from his skin, white in the center, a multi-colored red on either side. She massaged his bottom gently, and lent forward to whisper in his ear, “Hurts’ doesn’t it ? mmmm…..I like that. It excites me to see you like this, Tim. I am all hot…and it is you who has done it.” Her body heat had seemed to release the scent of her perfume. Chanel No 5 flooded his senses. The warmth from the fire; this closeness of this vibrant and spunky woman. The blood flooded back into his penis. “…and we are still within the limit Tim. I have only given you 4 strokes…should we carry on? Don’t forget the bite stick, Tim !…and don’t leave hold of the legs of the trestle. I will tell you when we you can leave go.”

Shallara took up her position again. Like that violin lead, her balance slightly back on her right leg, the cane at the ready….then that delicate flick of the write again. She played the proffered bottom like a musical instrument. The crack as the whippy rod met his tensed buttocks. She watched it vibrate against the trestle. The cheeks vibrating open and closed in desperate attempt to find some relief. But at last he settled. “Don’t drop it, big boy” she whispered huskily, “we’re still under six……”. The pause hung in the air….”if I give you another half, I am still within the limit, aren’t I ? Just nod, your had, don’t say anything. Or…you can walk away right now?”

They waited for his response. At last it came…..a slight nod. The wooden spoon trembled in his mouth. “The reward will be worth it, Timmy, don’t drop it…how bad can half a stroke really be? Think about what we discussed, Tim…picture it in your mind. And if you agree, push your bottom out. Offer yourself to me Tim.”

As if by magic, the cane seemed to have been replaced in Shallara’s hand by the strap. She sensuously dragged it through her left hand, fingering the supple leather, twisting the tongues backwards and forwards. Without warning, she raised it and brought it crashing down across the left check of the upturned bottom. The strap’s tongues snaked in-between the tender thigh flesh, kissing the highly sensitive skin. Exquisite agony as the one tongue licked at the top of his scrotum. The other caressed the perineum with a scorching flash.

Time stood still for Ariella. But it could only have been a fraction of a second later that Tim groaned uncontrollably, and ejaculated the bite-stick from his mouth, the spoon clattered down onto the baking tray at his feet. He writhed in a climax of pain, pounding his hips into the padded trestle. His penis jabbed backwards and forwards uncontrollably. His hands shot around to clasp and caress his backside. Slowly he stood up.

“You dropped it !”, Shallara accused him. “It was only half a stroke…I didn’t even touch your right cheek!”

Tim tore off the red silk blindfold and spun around. His eyes found Ariella’s and a flush of red streaked up into his cheeks. “What the …who is this? ..what is she doing here ? You …!”.

“You dropped it Tim…you lost the bet”, Shallara reiterated. “Better go and get dressed and be on your way like a good boy.” Ariella watched silently as Shallara escorted him out. As he exited the front door, she saw Shallara hand him something. “Perhaps I will see you again Timmy, once you have taken in the lessons on this CD. I would suggest listening twice a day, as soon as you wake up and before you go to bed. And Timmy, cold cream will do wonders for your welts!”.

He walked away furious and uptight. His backside hurt like crazy and the area between his legs where the strap had caught, stung remorselessly. But even worse, he felt humiliated and double-crossed. He was just about to drop the CD, but the writing caught his attention. If this was the way into her pants, maybe he had better listen. On it, there were two lines: “Hypnosis: The joys of submission” and “Red Silk by Lady Julia”. Maybe…..maybe….

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Shallara: Taken Over the Edge by a Short Stroke is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)

(continued from part two)

An introduction to penalties

Ariella loved playing backgammon with Shallara. She usually lost, but the thrill of the game and Shallara’s company excited her. She had grown to accept herself as the submissive in their relationship, and she would now have it no other way. Plumpish, without being too overweight, Ariella was a cheerful person, who seemed to bring out Shallara’s kinky and assertive personality.

It was Shallara who had introduced her to the game. She vividly remembered the day it had happened. Shallara had shown her how to lay out the board and how to move the stones. It had been fun and then there had been an exciting rush to see who get there stones off the board first. And in her first game, she pipped Shallara to the post. Well, it was all the luck of the dice, and she couldn’t see how it was possible to stack the odds in any player’s favor.

Shallara had gone out to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate before the second game. She returned, not only with two mugs, but with a large wooden spoon. “A bit big to stir the chocolate with that!”, had been Ariella’s comment. “It’s not for the chocolate, silly, it’s for the penalties!” came the retort. Ariella looked at her quizzically, but she soon got her answers. A few things very quickly became abundantly clear to Ariella: backgammon was not a game of chance; Shallara was an expert at manipulating the odds in her favor; and a penalty, received whenever anyone’s stones were knocked of the board and onto the bar, resulted in a painful smack with spoon on the bum.

Time and time again, Ariella found herself bent over and holding her knees, while Shallara popped her on her bum with the spoon. At first she hesitated; it was embarrassing to have to poke her bum out for the spanks. She felt embarrassed and self conscious, and as the number she received mounted, it became harder and harder to offer herself up. “It’s the rules, pet…you have no option”, she was chided. Lumping it, she would bend and take it. Her hands seemed to be on springs, flipping back to rub her bottom after each smack. Shallara watched with amusement as the red rings began to paint a lovely red pattern on the milky white skin, and each new addition brought a new tone of ‘ouch’ from Ariella. She did have the pleasure of returning the favor a few times, but by the end of the game, her bottom was a deep crimson, bright circles of glowing pain tattooed onto the chubby cheeks.

Let the game begin

But this time, Shallara had said there would be no physical pain inflicted by the victor. And the proposal for penalties seemed to have been watered down to the point of being ridiculous! Each penalty would oblige the holder of the bumped stone to drink half a glass of water and neither player was allowed to go to the bathroom to relieve herself until five minutes after all her penalties were paid. Shallara was likely to win; she usually did. And that submissive streak in her allowed her to agree to almost anything Shallara proposed.

And so it was that she found herself kneeling on the on the floor at Shallara’s apartment, while Shallara sat in comfort on the sofa. Under Shallara’s direction, she had pulled the coffee table out into the center of the room in front of the sofa, and they were using it as the games table for the backgammon board.

The dice rolled and with long slender fingers, Shallara moved her stones, knocking another two pieces off the board and onto the bar. She tapped the board impatiently with fire-engine red nails. In a takeoff of a authoritarian domme, she assertively instructed her : “Drink again, girl !”. Ariella reached down to her side and poured a glass of water, downing it in three long gulps. She could feel the pressure starting to build up in her bladder, but she knew the rules that she had agreed to. With a final roll, Shallara finished the game, leaving Ariella with six stones on the board.

Cheerfully, Shallara tapped the board as she tripped out of the room on her way to the bathroom. She had her own penalties to relieve herself of ! And it was then that the hidden severity of the penalties struck Ariella with full force. As she heard the toilet flush, her own bladder rapidly began to complain. The water seeped through her body, making her fuller and fuller. With intense discomfort she drank the last three glasses of water, and settled won to wait the mandated 5 minutes before she too could go and relieve herself. The pressure had moved beyond her bladder, right down to that point behind her sex from which it cried to be released. The minutes seemed to take for ever to pass, and with only two minutes behind her, the discomfort seemed unbearable.

Shallara returned and sat on the couch, sipping a glass of red wine, smiling at her discomfort. “Having fun yet, Pet ?’ she asked, as Ariella shifted around. “Please Shallara, you have to let me go !”. The plea sounded desperate, but fell on deaf ears, and the minutes ticked on. At last she felt that she had reached her limit. “Shallara, please you have to let me out……I can’t hold it anymore”

A look of mock concern crossed Shallara’s grinning face. “Two more minutes to go my love….I am sure you can do that just for me ?”

A trip down the stairs

Ariella sat on the couch resting her head on Shallara’s shoulder. The game and discomfort behind her, she felt warm, protected and relaxed. Shallara’s mesmerizing voice seemed to be taking her down a flight of steps to a far away world. The hypnotic melodies from Enya’s Orinoco Flow’s resonated in her mind, taking her deeper and deeper. Shallara’s gentle fingers massaged her wrist and seemed to lead her into the dungeon. It all seemed so right and not terrifying at all.

Torches flamed on the walls, infusing the room with their earthy, smoky scents. A fire blazed in the hearth, making her cheeks feel flushed and alive. The stone floor clean and cool under her feet, and her toes, with their nails gleaming red, tested their dark, clean hardness. Chunky wooden frames of different shapes and size, all fitted out with black iron rings were spread out around the dungeon, a padded spanking bench sitting at it’s center.

And in the distant background, in another world, Ariella heard a doorbell chime. She barely felt Shallara disengage herself and gently lay her back against the couch. Shallara was talking to someone in the distance, but it all seemed so unimportant as she looked around and visually explored this playground to which her Lady Shallara had brought her. With everything feeling so safe and secure, Ariella felt herself drifting off into the dreamy world of dungeons and spanking benches that she flowed from her subconscious mind, waiting to be rejoined by her Lady Shallara.

(to be continued)

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Do you have a case you would like Shallara to treat? If so, drop a short note to Shallara at ymail dot com and let her know what the issue you want dealt with, and what your recommended therapy might be. You might just find it written up on the Femdom Fantasies site !

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Shallara: A Watered Down Penalty is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)