For My Disobedience

"Today is Sunday," she said, when I had finished. "You will masturbate, under my direction, every Sunday."

"Y-Yes, Ma'am," I answered, feeling the excitement beginning to mount in me. A masturbation session was not a fuck, but it was better than nothing. I watched her go to a small chest and unlock it, returning to me with a small key. The key to my penis restrainer. As she bent to free me, I felt the light touch of her soft warm body against mine. Ooooh ... in that moment, I would have given anything to possess her.

The heavy penis restrainer fell to the floor. I was free! Instantly, my penis held so long in check, soared erect.

"A nice crisp erection," she said, "such a naughty boy!" She reached down and fondled my boy balls with her fingertips. Then, to my amazement, she traced her finger underneath my throbbing member and then proceeded to tickle my dick.

A few moments later she produced a little brass bell, the kind that you'd use for the holidays.

"Stand up straight, and turn around," she commanded. "Spread your legs apart, and touch your toes ... wider!" After I did as instructed, she proceeded to tie the bell to my ball sack with a length of string, so that the bell hung down a few inches below my balls. With the effect of her expert fingers handling me, my throbbing erection continued to throb. She smiled at this, knowingly.

I could only groan. It was an ecstasy, yet an agony. An agony of frustration. Deliberately, I was aware, she was taunting me. I moaned, feeling my boyish stiffy jerking in her grip.

Then, as suddenly as she had started, she stopped. My rod quivered with lust. Her eyes were bright with cruelty. "Do not imagine this is going to be all pleasure, my dear boy," she said.

"Now I'm really going to ring your bell," she smiled. She picked up a vicious looking leather spanking strap and, raising it up over her head, brought it whistling down hard on the bench, so that I could hear its fearsome 'thwack!', saying, "I'm really going to enjoy this."

"When you begin masturbating," she said, "you will rub your boy-meat against the whipping bench only as I direct. It will be a go ... stop ... go ... stop affair. And, I warn you here and now, if you ejaculate before I give the order, you shall receive eighteen strokes from a nice whippy willow switch on your bare butt as punishment for your disobedience and lack of control. And you know what? It's going to hurt. A lot. It will be the same every Sunday." It was rapidly becoming most clear to me, that this was going to be no pleasurable masturbation 'session'. Even while obtaining relief, I was going to be made to suffer. And, if I did not behave exactly as she instructed, I would have to suffer all the more.

"Well, now," she said, "I think we're ready". She stood in skin-tight blue jeans before me, legs apart, slender yet capable hands clutching her strap. She could not have looked more lovely. Nor more dominating. I was utterly in her power. "Get up on the bench. And don't forget my warning."

"N-No ... no ... M-Ma'am ... " The command to mount the punishment bench was given. The particular bench in question was obviously custom made to her exacting specifications. It consisted of a highly varnished hardwood trestle across which a black leather bolster was attached. The bolster was adjusted in such a way so that it slid up under my hips where it clicked into place. My bare buttocks were now favorably presented and properly positioned for receiving chastisement. My arms were then secured with Velcro straps at the wrist and elbow so that I was leaning on them with my body at a forty five degree angle. Next my knees and ankles were secured in two other Velcro straps. This had the effect of placing my legs in a slightly squatting position that parted my butt cheeks and exposed everything in between.

"There now, that's much better. You will now begin to move your hips gently over the bench, and begin masturbating now."

My hips moved exceedingly gently over the black leather upholstery. My desire was to pump my hips vigorously and relieve my pounding lust. I averted my eyes from her breasts, her impossibly tiny waist, her plump, sexy pussy lips forming a perfect little camel toe which clearly showed through the thin cotton denim of her jeans.

"Look at me," she snapped. I looked at her again. Oh God, how long was she going to keep me in sexual suspense? Obviously, I would not be able to control myself indefinitely. She must know that. My hips continued to move slowly.

"Faster ..." she said.

"P-Please ... Ma'am ... I ... I ..."

She answered with a vicious stroke of the strap on my unprotected buttocks. "OWWW!" There was no help for it. I had to move faster even if the inevitable happened. My lust intensified as I began pumping my hips faster.

I was letting go ...

I couldn't hold on ...

Oh it felt good!

"Stop!"

I stopped at once, my boy meat jerking uncontrollably. I was right on the brink. Quivering, aching in my burning balls. Very slowly my lust lessened and the incipient eruption subsided. She was regarding me with something bordering on contempt. "Almost let yourself go, didn't you, boy?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I admitted.

"That would have been foolish. Because a good switching on a boy's bare butt really, really hurts. Keep that in mind. Now get moving."

I began to rub my dick against the whipping bench again. "M-Ma'am ..." I began. I was going to beg her to let me go very, very slowly.

"Shut up!" she snapped. "Pump those hips!"

I began again, striving to tear away my thoughts of the pleasure of it. Trying to drive her seductive body from my mind. Impossible! I went as slowly as I could, but even so, my excitement intensified moment by moment.

"Faster!" she ordered. I groaned ... but obeyed. I wouldn't be able to hold out this time, I was sure, no matter what her threats. Once more she brought me to the very brink before barking her order for me to stop. Even so, I thought I was going to shoot but somehow I didn't. Once again my erection was jerking out of control.

"Does this make you feel I'm very much in control?" she asked, as she very lightly touched and ran her fingernails over the surface of my balls.

"Y-Yes, Ma'am ..." I moaned. It did indeed. She was treating me like a plaything. It was wickedly cruel. Deliberately, she was trying to eradicate whatever vestiges of pleasure I was receiving.

Another two minute interval followed, during which she wandered about the room displaying her pert jean-clad posteriors to me as well as her other considerable attributes. Then she seated herself on the side of an armchair. "Move." She commanded.

So my ordeal began again. My boy balls and the head of my cock seemed to be churning even more intensely. By now the knob must certainly be a bright cherry red.

"Can you imagine how disgusting you look?" she asked, frowning.

"Uuugh ... yer ... essss ... Ma'am ..." I nodded. I was panting, head lowered.

"Look at me," she ordered. I did so. "Faster," she said. There was nothing for it but for me to pump faster. This time. This is it, I told myself. Nothing else can do. My lust was out of control.

"Stop!"

I cringed, head thrown back, groaning and gasping at the incredible effort of self-control I had to make. Indeed, I think I 'leaked' a little pre-cum and hoped she wouldn't notice. Against my hair in front the upholstery felt a little wet, underneath.

She gave me three or four minutes to endure the agony and to allow my raging erection to subside a little. Wordlessly, she teased her fingernails lightly on my ball sack, and then cupped her fingers around my genitals and massaged me lightly until my meat started getting hard again. Then came her insistent command.

"Get those hips pumping!" she said.

Once again my hips began to move slowly but rhythmically. Almost unbelievably, she brought me to the very brink twice more. I thought I would soon go crazy with the frustration of it and the incredible effort I had to make to hold on. The whole of my genitalia seemed ready to explode. She was quite merciless ... reveling in her control. Her power. Gaining the utmost pleasure from my mental and physical torments. I lowered my head and begged her to let me release.

She just smiled. "You will go on for as long as I want. Or else! Was all she said. "Now ... move!"

I was actually sweating when I put my hips to work again. Whatever she said, or did, I was going to shoot my load this time. A boy can only stand so much teasing and denial. Though I started slowly, I was soon moving faster ... without getting her order. I saw her grinning, knowing I was lost.

"Look at me," she snapped. Suddenly she stood with her beautiful bare butt only inches from my face. She had peeled down her skintight denims to reveal a sharply-contrasting set of bikini tan lines augmented by the heavenly spicy-sweet scent of jasmine. She had freshly perfumed butt cheeks. I realized that, by doing this, that jasmine perfume would sting the tight little dimple of her anus like crazy. That did it for me.

I pumped away uncontrollably and, within ten seconds, I was erupting. Crying out in relief, sweat dripping down my forehead, I didn't care anymore. Not about anything. I only wanted that relief.

"AAAAGHHH ... A-A-AGHHH ... AAAGHHHHH!" It went on and on. I found I was not only sweating, but panting too.

Then it was over. I was drained. My head sank to the bench. It was over. Over. The desolation of that went through me. I felt weak. The fire burning within was no longer. I actually shivered, knowing there was going to be a penalty to pay.

"That," she said, "was quite a disgusting spectacle. What is worse, you disobeyed me!"

I moaned, "pity ... pity me .. M-Ma'am ... I couldn't h-h-help it ..."

"Simple lack of control," she said. "You will have to do a lot better than that in the weeks ahead."

"M-Mercy ... Ma'am ... it ... it's not possible for a ... a ... AGUAGUAGA"

My begging was cut short by her fingers in my mouth. I felt something slippery and immediately recognized the salty-starchy flavor of fresh hot boy cum.

"Lick up your disgusting mess," she chided, "there get a good taste, so that you will always associate your sexual misdeeds with your punishment." She turned and strolled from the room, whereupon I couldn't help noticing that her pretty buttocks were once again encased in their tight denim fabric.

I had been caught completely off guard and was tricked into eating my own sperm. I didn't enjoy the taste one bit, but I knew I'd be in real trouble if she came back in the room only to find I spit the stuff back out on to the bench. Was it, I asked myself, going to be like this week after week?

Five minutes later, she strode back into the room. She did not have the spanking strap in her hand, but a peeled willow switch. It was long and very whippy. I could see that because, whenever her wrist gave a little flick, the tip swayed easily up and down for a distance of some six inches. She was still attired in her skin tight jeans except that she had now put on a pair of black high heeled pumps. They seemed to make her look even more menacing. Still not satisfied with the humiliating spectacle I made, she teased and taunted me further.

"Hmmm," she mused, appraising my shrunken balls and fully deflated cock. "I think we'll just put the drop leaf down on the punishment bench today," as she released a barrel bolt which caused a hinged portion of the bench beneath my hips to drop down out of sight.

Pressed as I was against the cool slippery leather surface, I felt my swollen cock and balls released, even as I attempted to spread my legs, so that now my genitals were hanging down freely between my legs and pointing downward. Now not only my naked rear, but also everything in between, was in readiness.

"Kiss it." She extended the switch. Believe me, I kissed it!

"Repeat after me, boy: "For my disobedience ..." "For my disobedience ..."

"For my lack of control ..." "For my lack of control ..."

"I deserve to be punished ..." Oh the injustice of it! "I deserve to be punished," I croaked.

"And you shall be, my dear boy, she stated remorselessly. "Just as you shall be, week after week, if you disobey me and lose control. Understood?"

"Y-Y-Yes ... ss ... M-Ma'am ..." Another croak.

"I am giving you eighteen strokes," she said. My heart seemed to shrivel. "And you shall be required to take them with your bottom presented to me properly. And I warn you, if you try to get out of position, I may give you the switch between your legs, sort of by mistake. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-Y-Yes ... Ma'am ..." This time it was a whimper.

"QUITE clear?" She whisked the switch up without warning to sting my naked boy balls!

"YYYEEEOOOWWW! Yes ... oh yes ... Ma'am ..." My shouts reverberated around the room. She smiled one of her wicked little smiles. This was going to be no ordinary spanking. That switch stung like a muthuh. I swear I could smell hot pee in the air and realized she had her switches soaking in her own urine, to give them more sap and sting. I had the powerful urge to beg her once more for mercy ... but knew to do so would be utterly futile. "Prepare!" she barked, with a sharp edge to her voice. That she enjoyed punishing me I had no doubt whatsoever. She was a natural-born, beautiful ball-busting bitch ... which is something rather rare in a woman. Every submissive boy's dream, you might say. But my dream was fast becoming a nightmare. For her severity was beyond anything I had previously encountered. You would think that my bare butt would eventually toughen up but it never did. Taking a fierce grip on the front legs of the bench, I reluctantly thrust out my bent bare posteriors for my painful punishment. The tip of the switch grazed my balls and I almost cried out. Then the switch left me and I tensed. Total silence. Then, there came the familiar high-pitched whistling sound as the willow descended ... as it bit into my unprotected butt.

The pain was terrible. The switch was thinner than a cane but it stung as deeply ... like a hot curling iron was suddenly laid over my butt. Worst of all was where it whip-lashed round my thigh. There it bit like a dozen wasps.

My head jerked back and an anguished yelp burst from my throat. My butt jerked back and forth and the punishment was getting off to a terrific start.

"Count the strokes," she said.

"One ... Ma'am ..." I said hoarsely.

The next stroke was just as hard and, this time, both thighs got the brunt of the whip-lashing tip.

"Yyyyaaahhh! T-Two ... Ma'am ..." I cried out. My bottom was jerking back and forth again. I stuck it out, as if I were begging for it.

With her eyes on the target and her lips pressed firmly together, she seemed to make the switch whisper the word "whippp!" just before it bit into my poor bare butt.

"Th-Three ... eeee ... Ma'am ... I cried out again in a high-pitched voice. It was always a sign of weakness to break down too soon. I told myself I must not cry out. I must draw on all my strength and powers of endurance.

It came again. Agonizing. I whined despairingly through my clenched teeth. Dear God ... fifteen more to come.

"Four ... M-Ma'am ... not so hard", I pleaded, knowing that she would use the whippy switch as hard as she wanted to use it.

"Five ..."

The sixth stroke whipped across the backs of one thigh causing me to jerk involuntarily against my bonds. The tip of the switch bent upon impact and stung the backs of my balls.

"AAAHHHGGGHHH!" I don't think I've ever felt such pain in my life. My hips were pumping like a bucking bronco. A small smile appeared across her face at the pain she had inflicted.

"You were warned not to get out of position, my dear," she remarked casually. She tickled my boy balls menacingly with the tip. I flinched. "Twelve still to come," she stated in a low tone. "Do you think you are going to show more obedience and control in the future?"

"Yer ... esss ... yes ... Ma'am ..." I moaned. The little brass bell, still tied to my ball sack, tinkled incessantly in the background.

After this brief pause, the punishment was resumed with undiminished vigor. My whining grew more intense; soon, as the strokes mounted I was yelping from the pain again. Amazingly, I stayed in position but, sometimes, only just. After every few strokes she reached underneath my hips to tease me with her long fingernails.

After nine, I desperately wanted to rub my burning butt cheeks to get some relief, but she decided some time ago there wasn't going to be any relief. There was another little pause. Halfway. It was incredible that we could be only halfway. I did not think I would be able to take much more. I was tempted into a plea.

"M-Ma'am ... oh ... M-Ma'am ..." I whined, "have mercy on me ... just a little mercy ... oooh ... Ma'am ... n-not ... quite s-so h-hard ... please ..."

"I heard her giggle. "What's the matter, boy? Sore butt? ... Sore balls?"

Sore! It had been prison camp torture from the very first stroke.

"Yes ... yes ... Ma'am ..." I answered. There was a choke in my voice. "It ... it stings too much ... it r-really h-h-hurts ..."

She walked up directly in front of me. Her sexy pussy lips, just inches from my face, were perfectly outlined in the tight denim. Did I detect the scent of moist pussy? She bent forward and her breath was in my ear. Her tone showed no pity. Just a complacent interest. "A punishment is intended to hurt," she said callously. Her hand reached down and cupped my chin. I was staring directly into her eyes as she spoke. "You are being punished for sexual misdeeds. There is no point in my using this willow switch unless I use it hard. I am going to give you the remaining strokes just as hard as I possibly can."

A great moan of despair was torn from me.

"You may resume the count. We shall continue the punishment. Stick your bottom out," she barked. Reluctantly I thrust out my brightly striped posteriors for more of the stinging punishment.

Whi-ppp.

"Ten, Ma'am ... Ma'am, pleeeeeease no more!"

Whi-ppp. "Eleven-owwwww! Aaaaahh! Stop! Stop for just a minute, please!"

Whi-ppp.

"Twelve, Ma'aaaaammmmm! Noooo! Oh, Ma'am, no more!"

My hips, thighs, and buttocks were bucking, hopping, twisting, dancing. Dancing to the beat. The beat of the switch. It was a dance of pain no choreographer could envision. Underneath it all I felt my prick was turning into a bar of iron, even as she continued my whipping without mercy, incredible as it may seem I was now strangely transforming each painful bite directly to pleasure intermingled with my bare bottomed chastisement..

Whi-ppp.

"Please, Ma'am, stop! Thirteen! Please ... please ... please!

Whi-ppp.

"Aaaaahhh! Stop! Stop! Fourteen! Please stop now, just for a minute! Oh, Ma'am, Ohhhh!

Whi-ppp.

"Owwww! Fifteen! No, Ma'am, no more, please!"

Silence. A brief moment of respite. Without warning, she reached down and caught the tip of my erection between her thumb and forefinger, chiding, "I must not be whipping hard enough ... if THIS is the result of my work." Roughly she pulled her hand away and my penis bobbed up and down obscenely.

"Okay, naughty boy, now that you're hard, let's see you keep it hard!" she laughed heartily out loud as she crouched down to bring the switch in between my legs with a quick upward flick, sending the tip whistling into both my balls and the tip of my cock.

"OOOWWWOOOWWW!" Time stood still. My heart was in my throat. Tears welled up in my eyes . The little brass bell tinkling between my legs sounded like it was a half a mile away.

"AHHH! AHHHHH! OHHHH-OHHHHH! "MMMMMMF!," I exclaimed as I involuntarily shot six strong jolts of cum on the bench. Dumbfounded, I couldn't believe I managed to survive that last stroke. A stroke that she was all too happy to provide.