Her Punishment 13

His sub betrayed him, breaking his trust and sharing a secret she wasn't supposed to share. Now, he's going to punish her.

--

He looked down at the trembling sub beneath him. She looked beautiful on her knees, her eyes cast to the floor, her hands resting on her knees. He knew it hurt, kneeling naked on the hard floor like that. That'd be the least of the hurts he'd inflict on her tonight.

"Look at me."

She obeyed his directive, and he savored the feeling of being above her, the nerves running through her big eyes.

"You know you deserve to be punished. I don't plan on going easy on you."

"Yes sir."

"I am going to push you to the edge of your limits," he said. "I'm going to hurt you. A lot. I won't give you anything more than you can take, but you are going to take it. Understood?"

"Y-yes," she said. He gave her a stern look. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Follow me."

He led her to the spanking bench, then made her wait while he went to the cabinet for a brutal pair of nipple clamps. He had her put her arms behind her back while he slapped and pinched her nipples until they were hard and wanting, then snapped the unforgiving clamps on them with little ceremony. She was used to this treatment and took it without complaint, letting out nothing more than a few whimpers as he bent her over the bench, the clamps and the heavy chain between them weighing down her sensitive nipples. He cuffed her arms and legs, then attached the clamps' chain to a connection point on the bench, which would pull at her every time she flinched. He planned on making her flinch quite a bit.

He left again, gathering lube and a massive plug. He made sure she caught a good look at the plug before he moved behind her. It was the largest he'd ever used on her, with a flange as thick as his cock. She got a few shades paler as he walked towards her, but didn't say anything. He had her well trained-- she knew if she complained or begged she'd have to deal with a massive ball gag in her mouth too.

He went right in with two lubed fingers, quickly adding a third and then a fourth. He replaced his fingers with the plug, and he took his sweet time working it into her, fucking her at its widest width, enjoying the sounds of her small whimpers. "Your tight little asshole is going to be so sore from the plug," he said. "But that's not going to stop me from fucking it, is it?"

"No, sir," she sobbed.

"Why not?"

"Because--" she paused on a breath as he pushed the plug fully into her with a particularly brutal thrust. "Because dirty maso sluts like me need to be hurt."

"You do."

He let her stew as he surveyed possibly spanking implements. He had his collection displayed on the wall, set up so that his sub could watch and anticipate as he perused. He wound up selecting a strap, a cane, and a short single-tailed whip.

"Are you ready?"

--

She was not ready, but it wasn't a real question, so she gave him the required "yes, sir" regardless. She knew she deserved this. She had blatantly broke a rule, broken his trust, broken the bonds that they'd built. She needed this punishment as much as he did.

Still, it was hard to keep that in mind when he started in with the strap. She barely got any warm-up, just a brutal onslaught across her ass, thighs, and, at random intervals when he was feeling particularly cruel, her pussy. Those were the worst strikes, not just because of the pain, but because she felt her wetness transfer to whatever area he struck next. She'd known she was a masochist for a long, long time, but it never got any less embarrassing to receive direct evidence of how much this rough treatment turned her on.

He didn't give her a count, which usually meant the count was going to be really fucking high. She didn't know how many strikes she took, but it was enough that her entire backside was red hot. Her nipples throbbed from the pull of the clamps, and her asshole was still stretched to its limits around the ungodly size of the plug. And she still had the cane and the whip to go.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and a strangled "please" fell out of her lips. He punished her with a brutal strike right over the base of the plug, then put the strap down and moved around to her front. He dug a hand into her hair and yanked her up. Her mouth dropped open instinctually at the treatment, knowing what would come next-- the hard pulse of his cock driving down her throat, taking her without any regard for anything other than his own pleasure.

She wanted it, welcomed it, needed it. She was his hole, and even when she gagged around him, she let him plunder her throat. He kept thrusting as he reached down and flicked the clamps off her nipples, holding his cock deep in her mouth as she screamed at the pain of the blood flowing back to the sensitive tips.

"That's right, slut," he growled, as he kept pounding into her mouth. "I'm going to come deep in your throat so I can last longer when I fuck that sore asshole later. You've still got a lot of pain to get through first, though, don't you?"

She whimpered around him, unable to say anything with his cock in her mouth. It was fitting that she couldn't answer the question-- in this room, she didn't get to decide how much pain she received. She just took it.

After a brutal few minutes, he came into the back of her throat with a low groan. He released his death grip on her hair, giving her one sooting touch on her cheek before walking away. She clung to the touch-- she knew she'd need the memory of the comfort to get through what was coming next.

He gave her a few minutes of rest before he moved back behind her. "Ten," he said. "As a lesson in keeping your mouth shut, you'll stay quiet for all of them. Make a sound and I redo that stroke. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

She knew it would be the cane, and she knew he'd try his damndest to make her cry out. He counted out loud as he went, but she didn't need it-- she knew exactly how many more she had to take. His first two strokes were brutal lines of fire on her already aching ass, but she managed to stay quiet. The third, which landed right at the line where her butt met her thighs, brought out an involuntary scream.

"That's two," he said, before quickly landing another lash. She wasn't expecting it, but she managed to tamp down her scream just in time. She made it to five before he got another scream out of her, with a hard diagonal strike that crossed a few of the others he'd already given her. "Back to five," he said, before landing a diagonal strike in the opposite direction. She screamed out a sob.

"It's like you want this to last all night," he said. "Do you want your caning to last all night, slut?"

"No, sir," she sobbed.

"Then stay quiet."

His harsh command got her through the third try at five, then six, seven, eight, and nine. She wanted to make him happy. Had to make him happy, even when that came at the expense of all the skin on her ass. It was wired into her, the need to please him, the need to earn another one of those quick, gentle touches after he brought her so much pain.

"Last strike," he said. "This is going to be the worst one. You are going to stay silent."

"Yes, sir," she said, hoping it would be true. He made her wait for it, tapping her with the cane softly three times before finally drawing his arm back for the full strike. When it came, it hurt too much to scream, all the air gone from her lungs, the pain turning her vision blank.

Eventually, she came back to her body to the feeling of his hand, rubbing softly along her punished skin. She sighed into the feeling as he moved his hand down into her wet folds, running along the seam of her sex to her clit.

"I think you liked your caning," he said, rubbing his fingers in small circles. She shook her head, but he just let out a low, harsh laugh. "Your body is telling a different story." It was. She was already on the verge of an orgasm, and he knew it. He teased her right to the edge, then pulled away, landing his wet fingers against her ass in a hard smack. "You're nowhere near done yet."

She remembered then that he had taken three punishment tools over with him-- the strap and the cane had already been used, but there was still the whip, which left brutal stings all over her body. She didn't know if she could take that on top of her already abused ass, but she knew she wouldn't have a say in the matter.

He didn't pick up the whip just yet, though. Instead, he went for the massive plug, slowly pulling it out, taking his time to fuck her with its widest bit again. She felt like she was being split in two, the stretch left over from the flange doing nothing to alleviate the pressure. He played with her for a few agonizing moments, then pulled the plug out. He set it aside and picked up the whip, running it along the back of her ass.

"Feel free to scream as much as you want this time. I'm not going to give you a number. We'll need to give you some more pain to make that asshole tighten back up for my cock, won't we?"

"Yes, sir."

He landed the first lash of the whip, a quick fire strike on her upper thigh. "It should hurt when I shove my cock inside you." He punctuated each of his words with more strikes, going hard and fast, peppering her ass and thighs, the pain pushing her right to limit. "You need to be hurt by my cock, don't you? You need to be punished inside and out."

She was sobbing too hard to say anything, but they both knew the answer. Yes, she needed to be hurt. She needed him to take her past the edge of what she thought she could take, needed him to reduce her into nothing more than a receptacle for sex and pain. Here, this far gone, she could admit that's what she needed, could push past the societal boundaries that told her she shouldn't want this. She wanted it. Wanted it so badly that she couldn't exist without it.

And he gave it to her. Gave her everything she needed, beat her with that whip until she was crying, then screaming, then begging for him to put the whip down and fuck her. By the time he threw the whip aside, he was breathing heavily, the sound harsh enough to echo over her own.

He didn't make her wait, grabbing her hips in a punishing grip and lining his cock up against her pussy. The glorious feeling of the thrust inside her was unexpected, but not long lasting-- he had promised her an ass fucking, and that's what she was getting. He used the copious wetness from the thrust into her pussy and the leftover lube from the plug to guide his way into her ass, forcing his cock past the tight ring of muscles.

"Take it," he said. "Take it even though it fucking hurts. This is what you deserve. This is what you need."

She cried, whimpered, her brain telling her to pull away from the pain of his invasion even as her body pushed himself back on him as much as she could with her limited range of motion. He let out a low, cruel laugh, digging his hands into her hair, yanking her head up at the same time as he thrust the rest of the way in.

"Look at yourself," he said, angling her towards the mirror hanging down the wall. "Look at how much of a wanton little slut you are."

She looked like a wanton little slut, her hair a mess, her pupils blown out, her master standing behind her, subjugating her with his cock. He kept her watching as he started brutal thrusts into her ass, varying his rhythm so she couldn't get used to it, couldn't do anything other than take what he gave.

Too soon, he pulled out. She looked at him, confused, until he walked to the cabinet, coming back with a clit clamp and-- oh god-- the ginger lube. Before he moved behind her, he bent down, pulling her mouth into an unexpected kiss, nipping at her lower lip. She leaned into it, desperate for more, but too soon, it was done and he was doing what he'd come to do, reattaching the clamps to her nipples and giving the chain still connected to the bench a harsh tug.

Then, he moved behind her, landing a harsh slap on her pussy before finding her clit, pinching and pulling at it until it was erect enough for him to attach the biting clamp. It hurt so fucking bad, but she was also instantly on the verge of an orgasm that she wasn't sure he would allow.

He, of course, sensed what he was thinking. She looked in the mirror as his face split into a feral smile. He held up the ginger lube so she could see.

"Since I'm a nice master, I thought I'd give you a choice."

He was not a nice master. This was not going to be a good choice.

--

He looked down at his bound, marked slave. She took so much for him. He'd been brutal with her, and she'd taken every stroke. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't done hurting her just yet.

"Your choice is this. Either I fuck your ass with regular lube-- plenty of it, I'll be nice-- and you don't get to come. Or I fuck you with this ginger lube-- plenty of this too, of course-- and I'll let you come. That is, if you can manage."

Oh, his sweet little slave. He knew it wasn't even a real choice. She needed to come after all he'd done to her, needed it more than she needed air. She'd let him do whatever she had to let him do if it would get her there.

"The ginger lube, sir," she breathed.

He gave her a harsh spank. "Use your manners."

"Please fuck my ass with the ginger lube, sir."

"With pleasure."

He grabbed a pair of latex gloves, then slipped a condom to protect himself from the lube's sting before uncapping the bottle. As promised, he used plenty to lubricate her already sore hole, thrusting it in with rough fingers as she whimpered beneath him. For good measure, he coated some more on the condom, then lined himself up at her entrance again.

"You can come anytime you want," he said. "But only while my cock is in your ass."

He entered her in one thrust, not letting her adjust before he took up a punishing rhythm. Just like always, she took everything he gave her, her sobs and screams quickly turning into gasps as she did that miraculous thing where she turned the pain he gave her into pleasure. He rewarded her with even more pain, pulling at her hair so she'd be forced to yank on her nipples, smacking her ass and thighs, flicking at the clamp on her clit.

"You like this, you filthy fucking whore," he said, his voice low and interrupted by his own harsh breaths as he kept pounding into her. "You like being hurt. You like being fucked. You like being mine."

"Yes," she said. "I like being yours, sir. I like--" He yanked on her hair. "I like when you hurt me." A hard slap on her pussy. "I like when you use me." His hand wrapping around her throat, pulling her as far up as the chains on her nipples would allow, forcing her to watch in the mirror as he rammed into her. "I like when you make me take it."

"Everything I fucking give you," he said, picking up his pace, burying himself in her so deep and hard he didn't know where he ended and she began. "You take everything I fucking give you, and you thank me for it."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, thank you, thank you--" she kept going, thanks pouring out of her lips as he slapped her clamped tits, her clit, her pussy, as he reamed out her ass with his cock, as he squeezed her neck tight. And then, finally, she came, the sounds she made ball-bustingly gorgeous. He followed her over the edge, groaning as he collapsed over her.

A few minutes later, when they had both caught there breath and he'd helped her off the bench, he pulled her close to him, kissing her deeply.

"You're forgiven, you little slut."

She smiled up at him with tear-stained cheeks. "Thank you, sir."