Karen
Her pussy still quaked with the aftermath of her orgasm. She wanted to sing with joy at the rapture she felt at being taken in hand by a Dominant who actually knew what he was doing and how to treat her to get the desired result. The force and intensity of her climax had shocked her; she'd always thought of fellatio as something one did to get a man ready for sex, never as a means to its own end. Dane brought out the dirtiest, sluttiest, most cravenly submissive side of her, and her soul burst into an aria of bliss to know she didn't have to think about anything except following his orders.
Even though Dane had been diligent in his negotiations, spelling out with painstaking care what he expected and intended to do within the limits she had stipulated, she still couldn't believe she so meekly accepted the verbal slurs he tossed out so casually. She was a strong and independent woman, and in her regular life she would never tolerate being spoken to in such a way. But somehow, when they came from Dane's lips, words like "slut," "whore" and "cunt" lost all their sting, transforming from leaden punches to her own sense of value and worth into gold through some alchemy she didn't fully understand.
Thinking back over events since she'd arrived, she wanted to cringe at the very idea that she'd almost given her safeword over something so ludicrous. She could not imagine anyone else saying those things to her, but in the face of Dane's sheer presence, something inside her rolled onto its back with its paws in the air, showing its soft underbelly.
She wasn't just any slut or a common whore. She was Dane's slut, Dane's whore, Dane's pet to use as he liked, and the subtle but clear distinction between being "a slut" and "His slut" made all the difference to her.
She felt his hand press lightly against the top of her head and slide back, his fingers raking through her hair. A moan escaped her lips at the sensual feeling of being stroked and cosseted in such a proprietary way...
The fingers clenched at the back of her head, slowly but unmistakably gathering a handful of her hair. A slow but steady pressure followed, drawing her head upward until she had no choice but to rise or risk losing strands of her hair altogether. She labored to her feet, keeping her eyes carefully downward, noticing her own reflection in the highly polished toes of his boots.
He cupped her chin, forcing her to raise her eyes to his own. His bright blue eyes seemed to burn against her face like frost-covered metal.
"Three transgressions tonight so far, pet," he murmured, his voice low and menacing in a way that sent a frisson down her spine and electricity arcing into her clit. "Can you recall them?"
"The underwear, Sir. And cumming without permission. And—" She broke off, unable to think what the third might have been. "I don't know what the third was, Sir."
"Hmm," he muttered. "Let's see if I can jog your memory. Stay exactly as you are." She did so as he pulled out a phone and began to fiddle with it. After a long pause, during which the loudest sound in the universe was her own breathing, he turned the screen around so that she could see it.
I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight.
So am I, Karen. Do you remember what you are to wear?
Yes. No underwear, no makeup and the outfit you told me to.
Which was?
The answer was lost below the bottom of the screen, but it didn't matter what she'd said. What mattered was that her third transgression was clearly stated in her own words right there on the phone. She could hardly plead ignorance now.
"And no makeup, Sir," she said. It came out squeaky, high and frightened, not at all like the calm, confident way in which she preferred to own her mistakes.
"And no makeup," he echoed. Powering the phone off, he pocketed it again, then brought his eyes up to hers. "Present!"
She snapped into position, fighting the urge to shiver. In the face of his cool, matter-of-fact manner, she suddenly felt very vulnerable and naked in a way that she hadn't even when he'd used a knife to forcibly cut off her favorite pair of panties. Surely that was punishment enough, right?
"Now, my little pet whore slut, you are going to have to pay the price for your errors. Because you see, you've been very bad indeed. When I give you instructions, I mean for them to be obeyed to the limits of your ability. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir." She swallowed hard and drew in a deep breath. "Sir—"
"SILENCE!"
The command split the quiet of the room like a thunderclap. She jumped and flinched away from his sudden eruption, a bolt of real fear thrumming through her body. Recovering quickly, she returned to the required position, but now the tremors of fright wracked her as he began that slinking, predatory prowl around her body again. He didn't touch her, but she felt his gaze scorching her skin as his boots scuffed against the carpet.
"I did not ask you for excuses. They do not interest me and I do not care to hear them," Dane said. "You were given instructions. You chose not to obey them. I will not tolerate a disobedient submissive, no matter how talented she is at sucking my cock. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir." Oh, God. Had she blown this before she had a chance to get started? The thought terrified her more than anything she could conceive of that Dane might choose to do to her.
"Then, since you understand, you know you have to be punished. Three transgressions equals three different punishments. I had not intended to do this tonight, but bad little whores who don't do as they are told must suffer the consequences." A hint of resigned amusement and a strong thread of anticipation crept into his tone. "Fortunately for you, I have just the thing."
"I am Sir's to use as Sir pleases," Karen gasped.
Dane
If she had just kept her mouth shut and not said that one last thing, he might have just let her go with a spanking. While speaking her mind was far from a breach of protocol, and had in fact been a firm requirement of his, the little bitch developed an automatic mouth when she was afraid. This pleased him, because it meant he actually had something to work with in terms of bringing her to heel. Of course, she couldn't know that.
Mustn't tell the submissive that she's playing right into my hands...
He took her hair in his hand again, savoring the soft feel of the dark chestnut strands against his skin. While he would never describe himself as a hair fetishist, he was certainly capable of appreciating a well-maintained mane, and hers was perfect for all sorts of activities he had in mind to explore at a later date. For now, the fact that she arched her back sensually, raising that pert little ass of hers into the air when he seized her locks, was good enough for him.
He pulled back lightly and brought his lips to her ear, savoring the silky feel of her skin against his mouth as he murmured into her ear.
"Now, little one. What do you think a suitable discipline would be?"
She gasped, her breath silk whispering over velvet. "Whatever Sir thinks it should be."
He gave her a light slap on the cheek, just hard enough to make the skin of his palm sting a bit.
"That isn't the question I asked."
"A—a spanking, Sir. Sir's slut needs a good, hard spanking."
Perfect, he thought.
"Up," he said.
She rose to her feet, moving smoothly with the pull of his fist in her hair. He guided her over to the couch and sat down, tossing her with careless ease across his lap.
The light struck her pale-peach-and-cream buttocks, throwing the shadow of the cleft between them into stark relief. He drew in a sharp breath laden with desire.
"Spread your legs, slut."
She hurried to comply, spreading them wide enough that he could see her mound and the pouty, swollen lips of his cunt. With a low, appreciative murmur, he smoothed his fingers over the heated seam, enjoying the low moan she gave as his fingers danced over the sensitive flesh, gathering up the fragrant juice weeping out of her body. He rubbed his fingers against his palm, spreading her moisture over his hand until it was well-coated and shone with slick cunt cream.
"I think we'll start with twenty, slut. After each one, you will say the number and 'Thank you, Sir.' If you lose count, we will start over again." He smiled wolfishly, an expression that would have sent her running had she not had her face to the floor. "Do we understand?"
