Always as Permission

As always it is better to have read the first two chapters before reading this one. May I also reiterate that all the characters in this series are 18 or over.

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It was late afternoon before reality began to creep back in. With Mrs C, my elderly cook, away until tomorrow and Rosea 'busy' elsewhere, Marta and I had the house to ourselves. I had allowed Marta to display her dominant side with her daughter but now I was determined to make sure she still knew her place. During a quick lunch I made her kneel on the cold stone floor of the kitchen. She seemed at first puzzled and perplexed but soon realised her true position in the house hierarchy. When I stood up from the table and ordered her to follow me, she made no move to stand up but did so on hands and knees.

I walked slowly into the hall and up the stairs while she struggled to keep up behind me. She appeared both resigned to her fate and pleased to be back where she belonged. I wondered if this morning's brief journey into my world had been too much for her. At the time watching the look of nervous delight on her face as she applied the paddle on Rosea's backside, I knew I may have uncovered a darker side to her. It was up to her to come to terms with it and it was my responsibility not to let it get out of hand.

At the top of the stairs I opened the door to my bedroom and stood aside to let Marta crawl past me into the room. I left her there while I walked further along the landing and pressed my ear to the door of the guest room. I could hear only silence. Presumably Rosea was still as I had left her, tied securely to the bed. I decided not to open the door to check on her and crept away back to my room.

Marta was knelt dutifully next to the bed patiently waiting for my return. Even approaching forty she was still a lovely woman. Her boobs, that still hung outside her low top, were still pert and seemingly untroubled by gravity. I sat next to her on the bed and reached out to stroke her jet-black hair. She looked up at me and smiled hoping that all was well between us once more. Her smile turned to anxiety when I gave her a stern look in return. I decided to soften things to begin with.

"You did well this morning, Marta," I said softly, and a half smile returned, "however ... I still hold you partly responsible for Rosea's disobedience."

"But Sir..." she tried to say, a nervous look etched across her face.

"Shhh! I am speaking."

She instantly bowed her head and fixed her gaze on the floor.

"I gave strict instructions that neither of you were to touch yourselves before today. I know that I can trust you when you say you did not, but it turned out that Rosea was less trustworthy. She has been punished for this, a task in which you acted very well. However, it was up to you as her mother to make sure she too obeyed me. if you couldn't trust her you should have made sure she was in no position to go against my will."

"But how, Sir?"

Her tremulous voice came from behind the curtain of hair that had fallen forward to hide her face.

"You could have insisted she sleep with you and you could have watched her all night, or you could have secured her, as she is now," I answered her impatiently.

I reached to the side table and picked up the much-used leather paddle. I struck it against the palm of my hand and the familiar 'CRACK' echoed around the room. Marta's head immediately came up at the sound and she looked at my hands as I stroked and flexed the pliable leather. Whereas for Rosea the feel of it had been a shock, for Marta it was an old foe she had encountered many times before.

"I'm sorry, Sir and, of course, you're right," was all she said.

In truth I think she was relieved that the paddle was going to be her punishment and nothing more drastic. Her face brightened slightly. She had felt it before and knew its effect. Not only the sting on her bottom but elsewhere. The first time she had been mystified by the tingling in her pussy but soon learned to accept it gratefully. She knew that often it led on to even greater things.

"Stand up and get undressed," I ordered her.

She stood up and slowly, like peeling a delicate fruit revealed herself, carefully folding each item and laying it on the chair by the door. She knew how to please me with her slow striptease and from my place on the side of the bed I made the most of it as she turned this way and that, as she bent over and then stretched to the ceiling. As each new part of her was revealed I examined her closely. Her tits, even when released from the support of her top showed no signs of sagging, mostly helped by their small size. This lack of volume was more than made up for by her very pert nipples that were already standing proud. Her bottom was delightfully unblemished and evenly tanned thanks to her Mediterranean heritage. I knew from past experience that the marks of the paddle showed well. Her pussy was shorn of hair as had Rosea's been earlier.

When she was finished, she stood before me, hands behind her head as I had taught her, and silently waited, hoping for my approval. I let the silence linger as I looked her up and down watching to see if she would flinch under my intense gaze. When she didn't, I smiled at her and her face betrayed her relief.

"You are still a gorgeous woman, Marta," I praised her, "but it is time to take your place over my knee."

She knew what she had to do, that it was inevitable and that, in both our minds, it was my right. Without hesitating she came to me and bent herself over my knee, her hands touching the floor on one side and her feet floating above it on the other. I laid one hand on the small of her back and the other on her backside. She was soft and warm to the touch and trembled slightly at my touch. We had been in this same situation many times before and we both knew that the outcome would be our mutual pleasure, but we had to go through the ritual beforehand. I picked up the paddle and used it to caress her cheeks.

"We both gave Rosea six strokes for her disobedience this morning. I think you should have at least six as well. Don't you agree?"

"Whatever you think best, Sir," came her muffled reply, and I felt her beginning to tense up in anticipation.

Without allowing her any time I lifted my arm and brought the paddle down firmly. The much-loved double sound of the slap of the leather on her bare skin quickly followed by the sharp crack of leather on leather filled the room. I lifted my arm to give a clear view of the target area and watched as a red mark slowly appeared. I also waited for a response from below.

"Ooof! One, thank you Sir," came Marta's muffled voice, on cue and as expected.

I struck twice more before pausing, being greeted each time by the right response.

"Two, thank you Sir," followed by, "three, thank you Sir."

I could now see three distinctive marks on her bottom, each developing slowly. I knew that by the sixth there would be marks that would last a good few days. I let the paddle slip from my fingers and dangle from the leather wrist loop, as I stroked her arse. I could already feel the faint welts forming made by the edges of the narrow leather strips. I could also feel the heat beginning to rise. I let my fingers slide slowly down the cleft between her cheeks, lingering temptingly when I came to her anus. But that was for later. I explored further and was delighted, but not surprised, to find that she was already wet. My finger slipped easily along the lips of her cunt and she spread her legs as well as she could, eager to invite me in.

"Don't be so eager, little Marta," I chided her, "we still have work to do."

I took hold once more of the dangling paddle and gripped it firmly before striking out.

"Four, thank you Sir."

And again, I brought the paddle down.

This time there was an intake of breath before the familiar, "five, thank you Sir."

For the last one I gave it my all, not that I had been soft or gentle with the previous five. There is an area, just where the back of the thigh meets the arse cheeks that I have learned is possibly the most sensitive. Leaning slightly to one side to give a better view, I went for that special place. I think the shift took Marta by surprise as she yelped loudly. I wondered if it was loud enough to be heard in the guest room and hoped that it was. Helpless as she was it must have set Rosea's mind racing.

"Six, thank you Sir," she managed to say, a distinct quaver to her voice.

I put the paddle aside and gently stroked the marked skin of her bottom. I gave her time to recover. Her breathing was deep and laboured and her hands on the thick carpet were clenched into tiny fists. Under my hands her cheeks were almost hot to the touch and I softly traced each welt back and across both cheeks. As her breathing slowed, I let my fingers retrace their path between her legs. Her juices had now started to leak out and run down the inside of her thighs. I reached further and began to play with her clit, something which I knew she loved, and which had become part of moments like this. When I felt the time was right, I spoke to her in my most tender voice.

"Thank you, Marta, you may kneel back down on the floor when you're ready."

She remained where she was, draped over my knees, allowing her breathing to calm down to normal, and I was happy to allow her to do so. Meanwhile I continued to toy with her clit. I think she was beginning to enjoy my ministrations, but she knew she had to move. Slowly and stiffly she slid off my knees and almost collapsed into a heap at my feet. With difficulty she pushed herself upright and resumed her kneeling position. I know she was tempted but, aware that I would not have approved, she kept her hands away from her backside and placed them instead behind her head.

I took a little time to look down on her kneeling at my feet, while she carefully peered into the middle-distance, her eyes fixed straight ahead. Between her parted thighs I could just detect the glistening of her cunt. But arousal was not hers alone. My dick was rock hard and straining against the prison of my shorts. Time for my reward.

I stripped off my t-shirt and stood up, standing directly in front of her and inches away. The bulge in my shorts was on a level with her face and couldn't be ignored.

"Pull down my shorts," I commanded her.

She reached out and started to tug them down. I was so hard she had difficulty freeing me, but I suddenly sprang out of the confines, bouncing up and striking her on the nose. She blinked but carried on pulling my shorts down to my ankles. Finally, she looked up and could concentrate on what waited for her. She dutifully opened her mouth and then paused, knowing she had to await my command. I swayed my hips from side to side teasing her. Then I stopped, lined myself up, and slowly pushed into her mouth. I love the warm, wet feel of a mouth, willing or otherwise. In Marta's case she was as eager as I was and took me easily, her tongue playing with the tip in the way she had come to know that I liked. Then I pushed further, making life more difficult for her. I was over halfway in and could feel the tightness of the back of her mouth when she started to resist. She knew she shouldn't and did her best to allow me, but her survival instinct fought back, and she started to struggle.

I placed a hand firmly on the back of her head and pushed in further. Every fraction of an inch forced me to hold her head more tightly. I let her fight me for a few moments and then released her.

She came off me spluttering and coughing, with tears in her eyes. Drool dripped from her chin and landed on her belly, running down between her thighs adding to her already wet cunt. But we both knew she could do better, so I pulled her head forward once more and plunged into her. No niceties this time, no slow build-up, I pulled her into me driving as deep as I could. At first, she was quiet and accepting but slowly the struggles began. I let her fight me for a while and then eased up. I let myself slide halfway out to a point where she was more comfortable. She began to go to work. In my life I have never met anyone quite as good at giving a blow-job as Marta. Which is why I get her to give me one so often, sometimes even preferring them to a good fuck. Earlier Rosea had been good but she still had a lot to learn from her mother.

I stood there, eyes closed, while she worked her magic. But today I wanted everything. I felt myself getting close and stopped her well before. I wanted to leave plenty to spare for her cunt and her arse. I pushed her off me and she fell back, a look of surprise on her face. I reached down and pulled her back up by the hair and pushed her face down onto the bed, leaving her legs dangling over the edge. Without ceremony I kicked her legs apart and pushed my dick, still dripping with her saliva, between her legs. She welcomed me eagerly, lifting her hips and spreading her legs as wide as she could. Her cunt was already soaked, and I went in easily.

By no stretch of the imagination is Marta the only woman I have fucked but she is easily one of the best. I have endured the 'lie back until its over' ones. I have put up with the screamers and loud moaners all of whom I found false. And then there is Marta whose enjoyment is only matched by my own and whose sole aim seems to me to make it amazing for both of us. Yes, she can be noisy, but it comes across as genuine. At times she can be silent but its because she's busy making sure I have the best time ever. Today was a mixture of both.

"Oh, fuck, yesssss!" was the first thing that came out of her as I thrust in.

She pushed back against me, trying to pull me even deeper. She made a little "Ow" sound each time I came into contact with her arse, but it seemed to drive her on. I helped by clutching handfuls of her tender cheeks and digging my nails in adding to the pain. It seemed to work as she renewed her efforts. Once more I could feel myself getting close. Her eagerness was driving me close to the brink. But I wanted still more. To her surprise I pulled out.

As she wondered what was going on, I pulled her cheeks apart and looked down at her puckered anus. I felt her relax as she realised my intentions. I had introduced her to the joys of anal sex. She had never done it before and, after some understandable nerves, she grew to love it. I rubbed it gently with my finger before pushing past the resisting sphincter. It went in easier each time and I soon pushed a second in next to the first. I had by now moved a little away from the brink but was still solidly at attention. I was already lubed up with a mixture of her spit and her cunt juice. I pulled out my fingers and pushed my dick in.

I so love the tightness at the start that slowly gives way and allows free entry. Progress was slow because I chose it to be that way. I wanted Marta to feel and enjoy every fraction of an inch. She kept up a commentary of moans and groans as I drove deeper. I stopped, paused and then pushed back in. I started to fuck her arse with purpose, and she pushed back against me, trying to make me fill her completely. Her eagerness was my undoing. The cliff edge that I had flirted with now crumbled under my feet and my climax overtook me. With a final plunge I emptied myself into her and collapsed onto her back, still impaled inside her.

All orgasms are good, some orgasms achieve greatness, and some orgasms have an excellence thrust upon them. This was one of the latter. Poor Marta sensed that this was one of those and quietly lay beneath me, bearing my weight as reality crept back in. As I slowly became aware, I moved slightly and my now soft and spent dick slipped out from the final grip of her anus, and I rolled to one side much to Marta's relief I'm sure. Somehow, we managed to crawl under the covers of the bed, and we fell asleep, our arms round each other.

Marta was already awake when I returned to the land of the living. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheeks. Perversely that was the moment when I remembered Rosea which felt a little disloyal. I delayed the moment by returning Marta's kiss. She then disentangled herself from me and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"I'll make some tea," she announced and, without waiting for my approval, stood up and walked naked out of the room.

I lay back, resting on the pillows, only mildly concerned over Marta's new persona. What was I to do with Rosea? I was still unsure about trusting her, so perhaps I should make her stay here, possibly keep her bound as she was overnight. My thoughts were interrupted by the return of Marta, laden with a tray full of tea things. Once she had poured for us both I broached the subject of Rosea.

"I have to decide what to do about your daughter," I said.

"Yes," she said, agreeing with me, "we have to do something."

We? This last remark took me by surprise. She should know better than to think she had any say in it. I decided then and there on a course of action.

"I ..." emphasising the word, "will keep her here overnight. You will go home as usual." I glanced at the clock and it was already past her usual finishing time. I also caught a glimpse of her shocked expression. "I have decided that's the best course of action. You can return tomorrow."

"But ..."

"No 'buts', I have made my decision. Now, get dressed and go home. Your daughter will be safe with me, don't worry."

To be continued ...