The Punishment of a Good Girl

Babes

“You know why you’re here.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, sir.” No trace of cheek, no trace of back-chat, just simple, honest submission. Good girl.

“And why are you here?”

“Because I disrespected you, sir. I did not act appropriately when I should have.” She paused, and mumbled.

“I didn’t catch that.”

She smirked. Smirked. “And because you feel you should punish me for it.”

I sighed, a little theatrically. “Punishment isn’t meant to be *fun*. Just for that, your punishment will be much worse.” I wasn’t sure whether to act out impotent rage or be flirty. This was going to be ‘punishment’ for misbehaviour, for certain, but I wouldn’t want to leave her bottom so sore I couldn’t have her afterwards, now, would I?

The look on her face, she wasn’t entirely sure whether I was being serious and was actually angry, or whether it was just part of the game. Success!

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.” I heard a rather audible swallow.

She shrugged herself out of what she was wearing, down to just cute matching underwear, black satin, tied at the back for the bra and at the sides for the panties. She knew I was a fan, and knew not to strip to naked without instruction.

“I can’t have you misbehaving now, so you’re not going to get the choice to be good. Come here.”

She walked towards me, head bowed slightly, pouting. She definitely thought she was in for a hellish session. Which was the mood I was going for, even if I wasn’t going to be nearly that cruel.

“Wrists.” She held her wrists out, wordlessly, as I snapped steel manacles around her wrists – not to each other, though. Just her misbehaviour didn’t earn her the comfortable leather cuffs, but the stricter metal ones – she had misbehaved! – but I was certain she wouldn’t care soon enough.

The shiny metal shackles were attached to chains, attached to hooks on each wall, and tightened up just enough that she was able to stand without being pulled tight, but without any ability to move.

I stood behind her, a foot or so behind, just standing. Looming. Measured breathing.

To her credit, she stood stock still in just her underwear, chained to the sides of the room. And I saw her shoulders relax just a little as the situation sank in, and the spell that is her journey into subspace began to take hold.

And so the game began. Theatre, drama, domination, submission. Her, me. Here, now.

“You are still wearing too many clothes, but of course, you were behaving. Let me fix that for you.”

The cords and their loose knots slid off each other with minimal friction, as the black satin fell away from her skin. She gasped, not in surprise but in reaction to my breath on her skin as my hands worked.

“Oh dear,” I began, the merest hints of play in the tone of my voice. “This will not do. You’re not here to enjoy yourself, I do not want to hear any noises of pleasure.”

There was a moment of hesitation as she pondered her position. “Sir, may I please be gagged?”

This was an interesting twist. She knew I liked her being gagged, but it wasn’t quite so much one of her kinks, at least not directly. This merited a little investigation.

“Hmmm, I think that would be acceptable. Is it because you don’t think you can behave and need it to be silenced? Or because you want to use it to focus on your situation?” I was wondering if, in the depths of her imagined levels of predicament, she was imagining I would be so cruel that she would need it to bite down on to manage the pain. (I had no such inclinations, even if her previous dominants had.)

“That way,” she said, without a pause, “I can’t ask for mercy and must take whatever punishment I’m given, like a good girl.”

“As you wish. You can be a good girl.” I smiled as I inserted a large red ball into her mouth, letting her hold it while I fussed with her long flowing blonde hair, tying it into a crude ponytail so I could buckle the gag firmly and quite tightly.

“Better?”

“Hmm-mmm.” If I didn’t do know better, I could have sworn she was smiling with the positivity I heard back.

“You remember the safe word, I trust?”

“Hmm-mmm.”

“Show me.”

She followed up with firm, clear shakes of the head, left-right-left-right, as Escort bayan we’d agreed. I certainly didn’t anticipate pushing her so hard she’d need it, but I did want to stoke the tension just a little of what she thought she was in for. Nothing quite like feeding the nagging voice in her mind. And, of course, because being safe is a good thing.

“There is one last thing to do. I have here a body oil for you. I’m going to rub it into your skin to make things feel better. It will warm you up a little, and you’ll feel things just a hint more sensitively.”

Would it really make it more sensitive? I’ve never entirely believed some of the claims, but the hint of lavender would definitely relax a little muscle tension, the scent of vanilla is one of her favourite aromas, and the hints of patchouli and sandalwood seem to go down as the general go-to aromas for sensual massage oils.

I started at the back of the neck, working a small amount into the shoulders, and gradually down the back, before reaching around and taking every advantage of ‘working the oil into her breasts’ to generally just have a feel, making sure to rub my palms over her nipples, and letting my breath settle over her neck as I made it very clear I was enjoying myself.

I rubbed more of the oil in, down her back, around her butt, outside of her thighs. Everywhere I might conceivably give the impression of demonstrating my domination and inflicting my punishment.

The question was what to use first. Start with something more intense and get the “punishment” out of the way to then turn it into playful foreplay before an intense fucking? Start gentle and gradually work up until she’s had enough before making her cum, enthusiastically?

Choices, choices. And I know if I offered either, she’d probably ask for all the ‘punishment’ – and *then* a hard fucking, because despite being a cheeky, beautiful woman that I’d do anything for, she also likes having her senses aroused before her cunt filled with long hard cock. A lot. And that’s fine, I like doing both.

“Hmm. I want you to focus on the sensations, to feel every moment of your punishment, and think about it just a little bit more.” I put a blindfold over her eyes, buckling it tightly behind her. “Still OK?”

“Mmm-mmm.” More positive than before, if possible. I might even call it needy.

Starting gentle it is then: crop, flogger, gentle cane, cock, in that order. Maybe with clamps along the way.

I swished the crop around a couple of times, letting its swing through the air be the statement instead of words.

I gently laid the crop on her collarbone, on the right side, let the leather tip slide down her back to her butt, before tapping her butt once, twice, thr- smack.

There was a groan into the gag. Part surprise, part pain, part need.

I repeated this down the left side, collarbone, back, butt, tapping once, twice, thr- smack. The groan into the gag was deeper, throatier. Needier. More lustful.

Just what I wanted. I experimented with this, starting at the collarbone, sliding down her back, deciding where I wanted to wield the crop, tapping then smacking with it. Not hard, enough to stimulate, more noise than anything else. I experimented with her butt, the fleshier parts of her thighs, plus gentler smacks down her sides away from any organs, then gentle taps to the underside of her boobs, before a tap, a second tap, a third tap to her clit.

I put the crop aside, put my hands back on her neckline, as if rubbing more of the oil in, gently digging my fingertips in, as if rubbing in the sensations I’d already caused, but also making sure there wasn’t too much muscle tension – and that her skin wasn’t so hot from stimulation.

I then reached for the flogger, with its weighted handle, purple and black leather falls, they’re fairly wide; it looks more vicious than it actually is.

I started again, resting the falls on her shoulder, letting it slide gently down her back, letting the material leave a feeling in its wake, pre-empting whatever she thought I was going to do.

I stepped back, swung hard once, deliberately missing (but making sure to be as noisy as possible), swung hard a second time, then the third time was a sideways motion Bayan escort that caught her butt, before I used the motion it had to swing back the other way, catching her butt from the other side.

She began to get the picture though, and pushed her butt out, wiggling it ever so slightly, and of course I wasn’t going to not take advantage. The flogger made such a wonderful sound as it landed on her butt.

A few times I did that, back and forth over her butt, alternating with a much harder swing that I gave the impression of aiming for her back but deliberately missing.

Hmm. I wondered if I was smelling what I thought I was smelling, and a casual and flippant inspection of “my cunt” if you will made it very clear how aroused she was.

An idea crossed my mind.

“You are enjoying yourself *far* too much for a ‘punishment’. I’ll have to do something about that.” It was a mark of the dynamic that she grinned as best she could around the gag. That’s my girl.

So out came the clamps, with a lovely tone in the back of the throat, as they went on. Just for effect I don’t clamp *directly* on the nipples, but just behind them. That way the pain takes longer to build – and I’ve always found it to be much more effective as a result.

“There, I knew you’d like that. But I suspect you might not like what’s coming next.”

I went and found one of the wands we owned, flipped the switch for buzzing effect to ‘prime the mental pump’ as it were.

I switched it off, then rubbed the head-end of the wand inside her pussy lips for a bit of lubrication, before settling it between her pussy lips, pushed slightly upwards so it rested in such a way the vibrations would tremor through to her clit.

And switched it on.

“Now, I know you like this on your clit, and vibrating it through your cunt isn’t your favourite way to cum at all. But I did say this was a punishment.”

There was a low moan from deep in her throat. It wasn’t clear whether this was need, disdain, even some kind of angst, because this could be very much the instigator of a ruined orgasm.

I saw the tension in her thighs, buttocks, as the devious machine continued to vibrate unhindered, unabated, unceasing, sending its waves through her pelvic region.

I was even watching her trying to pivot her hips ever so slightly so that the vibration would go through her clit more than her pussy but I just smiled and said, “No, this is a punishment.”

After a few minutes of this, the tension rising, her clearly trying to hold back the inevitable, her trying to turn the inevitable into something else, there was a single, long, sustained noise from behind the gag.

Ungagged it might have just been a feral “fuuuuuuuuuuck” sound but whatever nuances it might have had, the gag buried, and as I saw her leg muscles relax, spent, I flipped off the switch, and took the wand away.

I stood up behind her, hands on her sides, just holding calmly, patiently, supporting her as she got her breath back.

“Good girl. You did so well. Now, would you like something to make it better?”

“Hmmmm-mmmm.” I’m sure if she could speak, it would have been much more formal, but no less enthusiastic. But that was half the fun of the gag.

I unhooked the manacles, let her arms relax, held her steady for a moment.

“I want you on the bed, on your back, and I’m going to fuck you. You may play with yourself while I am fucking you, not before, and if you do, you must make yourself cum before I do. You do not have to play with yourself, but if you don’t, I’m not going to.” Nothing like a good bit of predicament play to up the ante. (It’s also a false threat to withhold affection, I’d happily have pleasured her if she hadn’t herself, assumed she wanted to, but as bratty as she is, she’s also a greedy thing. I was pretty sure she’d want to.)

I carefully led her to the bed, knowing she was still blindfolded, and knowing that if she didn’t want this, that was the time she would indicate it.

But she just bounded onto the bed, flipped herself round to be in the right position, and wrapped her left hand around her knee to widen the position she had being open for me.

God, I’d do anything for this woman.

It didn’t take Escort long for me to shed all my clothes – who needs clothes anyway – and to hop onto the bed.

“Ready?”

“Mmmm!”

With that I plunged my very hard cock pretty much balls deep and we both grunted loudly.

I pulled out almost all the way, before using my upper body as a pivot, and thrusting in again, again balls deep. Cue another grunt from both of us, only this time, more needfully.

I slid myself back and forth a little more gently a few times, watching her face as I did so, admiring not only the look of toys but her expression. Soft, passionate, yet what could only be described as determined.

I felt a hand slide into the space above my cock… she was playing with herself. That was what the determined look was for… she’d resolved to play with herself, even if it might be a touch tender there from my ministrations, and she wanted to balance drawing it out and making it an epic moment of pleasure, and not taking so long that I came first. (I saw I was right about her.)

With that in mind, I slowed right down, making long slow sensual thrusts – partially because it’s still filling and sensitive for her without being enough friction for me for a bit, and partially so it gave her more time. The sense of predicament was strong even if I had absolutely no intention of carrying out anything I, well, hadn’t said I’d do…!

That was always the fun part of dom/sub for us, the mind games, seeing just how far we could go together, with the unspoken trust that I’d never push her somewhere she couldn’t handle.

She was getting closer now, her hips were coming up to meet my slow thrusts, almost as if trying to pull me in deeper somehow. And there was definitely a needful little noise in the back of her throat, a purr that gradually upped in volume and tension as her hand’s motions got more frantic next to me.

Then in an instant, that purr had become a roar – I think it might even have been a scream if not gagged – and various muscles were clenching and spasming, undulating back and forth with the tone in her throat doing something similar. That moment, unmistakable ecstasy as she kept stroking herself, kept riding the second, third, fourth edge of that wave. Smaller waves, smaller crests to ride, but nonetheless, multiple edges of the wave.

As the sound died in the back of her throat, the violence of her movements abated and she lay back, spent.

“Good girl.” I meant it.

But I wasn’t quite done yet. There was the small matter of me cumming and I wasn’t going to deny myself that. I also reckoned there was one last note to be found.

I pulled back out, slid all the way back in, got another feral grunt and a clenched muscle around my cock let me know that I was right about one last burst hiding away.

This time though I wasn’t holding back, no slow, languorous drawn-out thrusts. No gentle motions. This was my inner animal coming to the fore… I was in heat, and I wanted her and I took her. Long, hard cock, sliding in and out like a piston of an engine, rubbing every inch of me against every inch of her.

My cock was heated, drenched in her juices, slickly sliding back and forth. Unexpectedly, I felt her arms reach up, hands on my back, fingers splayed, nails dug into my shoulders. Accompanied by a needy, animal noise.

Reason and logic left me, all there was was flesh, the red mist, as my cock slid inside over and over, me still clenching to hold back the unstoppably building force so that when the moment came…

…it was explosive. She was moaning loudly, hands still dug into my back, as I shot my load deep inside her. The twitching and pulsing that was going on saw one last, final spasm of her cunt around me, one last final orgasmic aftershock on her part, her walls grasping, gripping my cock to wring every last drop out of me as I had an aftershock of my own.

“Good girrrrrrrrllllll.”

As I came to a rest, she beamed at me behind the gag and blindfold. I lifted the blindfold up to her forehead, plucked the gag out of her mouth, letting it rest under her chin. There was a moment of blinking, adapting to the light, and a beautific smile.

“I know.” She was a good girl and she knew it.

Then she giggled. “But I *did* put my hands on you while you were fucking me, so maybe I need to be punished again. Just… maybe leave it till tomorrow?”

I laughed. “Not even a please there?”

She giggled again. I’d do anything for that simple, honest expression of joy.

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