One Way to Punish Your Wench

Sir planned a lovely evening was for His wench. She had spent a patient morning at His side, feeding Him His breakfast, morsel by morsel; sitting at His feet quietly so He could reach into her blouse and toy with her breasts casually while He read the paper; rubbing His back as He stretched, catlike, shirt off, on the soft rug and purred softly as she kneaded any tension from His body; riding in the car with Him topless and collared as He ran His errands.

But all good things come to an end, and wench's end was exactly the problem. When He told her to go to her room and await His pleasure so He could get some work done, He expected to return and find her where He left her: sitting cross-legged, naked, on her small bed, hands folded. He had even been so generous as to leave her the book she had been reading (once he'd examined it and found it a harmless but suggestive cheesy contemporary goth tale of a vampiric Prince and the woman He enthralled and enjoyed always) to show His generosity and consideration.

The sight of an obedient sub quietly reading in that beautiful upright sitting posture He demanded of wench and loved to see was not what greeted His eyes. From shock instantly to outrage, Sir's eyes narrowed and blackened, the pupils growing in a combination of anger and lust, fire smoldering deep in His gaze. She was not on the bed but in front of the computer screen. wench gasped and slipped a large dildo from her slick, sticky pussy and came to her knees before Him.

"Speak," Sir barked, as He grabbed it from her trembling hand. "Explain this outrageous act of disobedience and disrespect. I cannot believe my eyes."

"I'm so sorry, Sir" wench said, feebly. She knew explanation would not help but that He might demand it anyway to humiliate her. She felt humiliated already. She had betrayed the trust Sir had given her, and sincere contriteness and submission to His will were her only options. She sat still at His feet, head bowed.

"First, whore, pick up that dildo and hand it to me."

She obeyed, eyes properly downcast, flinching slightly before she could control herself, waiting for swift and sudden punishment.

He took the green silicone toy, not looking at her. He knew He had never seen it before. He pushed it back toward her face.

"Look at it!" He said, "Aren't you ashamed to see your juices all over this thing?"

She nodded.

"Whore-I don't believe you. That is My pussy. Those are My juices to arouse and use as I see fit. I decide what you play with, when, and how-or if!" He took a deep breath, deep disappointment winning out over anger for a moment. "I should not have to be explaining any of this to you." He turned her face up with a firm hand. "Lick it clean for me, slut."

Face reddening, she parted her full lips and stuck out her soft pink tongue. He pushed the dildo into her mouth and she licked and sucked at it. He controlled it, slipping it in and out of her mouth. "Do you like that, whore? If you're going to perform for your cybercocks online, you can show me how you do it."

Her eyes teared up as she continued to suck the silicone. Though she usually liked the way she tasted, she did not like it like this. He liked her submission, but this was not nearly enough. He shoved the toy cock hard into her mouth and gagged her. She choked. He removed it.

"Good girl, at least we know you can be counted on to be a proper little slut." He held up the dildo and inspected it more closely. It's flared base told Him it could be used in a harness; did she plan to ask Him if she could fuck some woman with it? He brought His mind back easily to the present. "Now tell me: where did this come from?"

"In the mail yesterday, Sir," she said, quietly. "You told me to pick out a new toy-one big enough to stretch me wide and let me work on tightening my muscles, remember?"

"Don't presume to ask me a question about anything right now, cunt." She let her head fall further forward. She wanted to hide, wanted to disappear. His voice dropped an octave and was a mere whisper of tightly coiled menace. "Sir is so very disappointed." He was silent for a moment. Considering what to do next. He could act, immediately, shackle her and give her sound spanking she deserved and He just itched to deliver. He could lube and shove that huge dildo up her ass right now.

She interrupted His thoughts. "May I speak, Sir?" she asked in a small, contrite voice.

"Beware what you say, slut..." He said, gripping the dildo hard in His fist.

She waited, silently, sitting on her heels, eyes closed.

"You may speak."

She knew what not to say. She would not beg forgiveness until He asked her for it: begging was a pleasure they both enjoyed when the mood was right-her need and devotion plain, submission to Him oozing through every pore. She would not explain further: there simply was no explanation. Her servitude in the morning had aroused her; she sought to relieve the tension without Sir's permission. She had not shown Him the toy when it arrived in the mail. She had been talking to another online. She had lied and betrayed her training and His trust in this matter. This was a serious breach. They both knew it. She welled with self-loathing. So, there was nothing to say. She sat, silently, wishing she had not asked for permission to speak.

"Well, whore? You wanted to say something?"

She shook her head softly, long brown-black silken hair spilling softly around her face, covering the black lashed hazel eyes He knew and enjoyed so well. A tear fell from beneath her hair to the carpet. He wondered, regret or apprehension at what she would face for this act? For a flickering moment, the tramp had caused Him not to know her anymore. He thought about her eyes for a moment:

wide and trusting, looking up at Him with adoration as she sucked His cock, serving Him just as He told her to, His fingers possessively woven through her hair to direct her.

gaping and full of innocence and a hint of trepidation she attempted admirably (but incompletely) to mask her fear as He tied her spread eagle to posts in the yard and walked away to leave her; then He returned, an hour later, and fucked her hard, with a mastery that kept her softly whimpering until He came, pulled out, and left her bereft.

rich with emotion when He lay her softly on her belly after a long anal training session that left her weak, shaky, and in pain; then hiked her hips and brought His mouth to lap at her pussy until she climaxed, so sweetly, into His tongue and smugly smiling lips.

Damn! He was a generous Dom indeed in bestowing pleasure. But He was equally generous in bestowing needed punishment. And, oh yes, punishment would take place. He tossed the dildo onto the bed. "You have asked to speak. Do so, little whore, and quickly."

Feebly, she whimpered, "I'm sorry."

"I know you are...wench." Sighing, He came to the bed and stroked her tousled hair. She let him, then, when He remained gentle, she rubbed her face into His palm. Perhaps she thought He would forgive easily this time. He laughed in His mind, a broad smile on His lips as she continued to rub her dampened cheek into His hand. She was so vulnerable now, and He was going to use it to teach her a lesson she would not forget.

He pulled away. "I have work to do, wench. Sit here, on the floor and think about what you have done and how it hurts me. Feel the pain and displeasure you have caused me: you, who are supposed to have My pleasure as your first goal, your purpose and ambition." He looked down at her slumped, naked form. "Do not move until I return."

"I obey, Sir. I will atone."

Oh yes, you will, He thought, closing the door softly behind him.

****

She stared at the closed door, heart pounding. She panicked, feared He would stop their relationship, dismiss her, abandon her. It had warmed her when He called her "wench" before He left, let her show her submission by pressing her face to His palm. But her transgression was great. She was deeply ashamed of her disloyalty, her weakness, her selfishness. Sir had taken her care into His hands and how had she repaid him? She thought she might sob, but she would not allow herself that release. A small penance, a silent offering to Him.

She heard soft sounds coming from His office. He was on the phone. Probably trying to block her betrayal from His mind. She hoped He could do so. She was unworthy of His attention or even this thoughts right now. She settled into what she thought of as "sub mind," quiet and still, patient and waiting.

****

An hour or more later-she could not tell, for she did not allow herself to look up at the clock or at anything else, just the door He had closed between them-the doorbell rang. She turned her head to look out the shuttered window; the sun was setting. She heard several men's voices, none familiar (but then, she did not know His friends). They sounded casual, cheerful, even laughing. She thought they would probably go out for the evening without her. The evening: her evening. Tonight He was going to take her to a club where He would show her off to other Doms. He would collar and leash and manacle her. She had been in training for weeks to learn proper behavior and attitude for the club. All that gone.

The men grew quieter in the living room. She heard footsteps approaching the door. Sir entered. As He gazed down at her, sitting obediently, the expression on His face was unreadable. Calmly He said, "Come with me, wench."Rising quickly, she stood and followed Him into the living room. Two men sat on the sofa, one in an armchair, dressed casually, in jeans and t-shirts, their eyes on her naked body. She blushed deeply, brought her eyes to Sir's in question. He spoke, His voice casual, serene. "These are my friends. And I've told them exactly what you did today, you treacherous little whore." His voice betrayed little of His feelings, but His words stung and His eyes burned through her.

Having Him humiliate her so, in front of strangers, shocked her. Tears welled and stung. She fought them back. What had He told them? What did they think of her? She looked at the men from beneath lowered lashes. They sprawled on the furniture, listening and watching, feeling obviously comfortable with the situation. She could see the bulge of a growing erection in one's pants.

"Slut!" Sir barked, grabbing her chin hard and turning her eyes back to his. "Do you seek to please me or to please them?" He scowled. "I have always known you were a tramp, giving your pleasures to anyone who asked. But I thought I had begun to teach you some obedience, some control."

"But Sir-I-" she pleaded.

He pulled her hair back, hard, silencing her. "You were going to say something, whore?" She winced at His roughness, then shook her head minutely, as much as she could. "Good. Keep your mouth closed and listen." He released her. "Get on your knees, whore. Show my friends that slutty little pussy and ass you're so inappropriately proud of sharing with anyone who asks."

One of the men laughed. A dirty laugh at her expense. She cringed, then allowed herself to relax. Swiftly and obediently, she got on all fours, spreading her legs and arching her back just a bit to give the men the view her Dom demanded. The air was cool on her backside. She felt a bead of moisture slip from her pussy. Sir stepped before her, still fully clothed, and dipped a finger into her. He brought it to his lips and sucked it off. She wanted to turn and watch, see if He enjoyed the taste of her despite his anger. Then the finger returned, this time slipped into her ass. She gasped; He wanted her trained to take His cock, and she did, but her ass remained tight and He knew she was unprepared for the penetration. He smiled, pumped His finger a few times, then pulled it out roughly. "Clean it for me," He said, bringing His finger to her lips. She sucked it obediently until He removed it. "Though you deserve any punishment I can think to give you, whore, I will keep you safe and remain with you at all times. I am going to put you through something today that you will never forget." His hand stroked her silky hair, over and over, lulling her. She heard one of the men's clothes rustle.

She summoned her courage. She would be up to this. She would endure this public shaming to show her regret, to prove her worthiness to Sir, to begin to earn back the trust she had so selfishly taken for granted. Perhaps she would suck His cock while His friends watched. Perhaps He would insert the pony tail and whip her with a belt for them to see. She held very upright and still.

Sir moved away from her for a moment. She did not move. When He returned, He dropped several bondage items on the floor. The sight of her soft leather collar alone made her wetter. He affixed collar and leash. Clamped the spreader between her legs. Then He added a soft blindfold. Standing again, He pulled up hard on the leash to hold her head up, chest lifted. "Now, whore, you serve my friends. Do you understand?"

Panic welled up in her, pooled in her stomach. "Y...y...your friends, Sir?" This wasn't what she expected. Even serving one of these strangers wasn't something she felt prepared for. Still holding the leash taut with one hand, He brought the other hand down swiftly and as hard as she had ever felt it on her bare backside with a loud crack. Through gritted teeth He spit, "I said, 'Do you understand?, wench."

"I understand, Sir," she murmured, unable to see him, barely able and entirely unwilling to move. Her ass burned. She wondered if the men were gaping at a red handprint on her pale cheeks. Despite her fear, the thought aroused her. At that moment, He carefully and gently placed a blindfold on her.

He pulled up sharp on the leash again, to keep her body tall, and began to stroke her head again, then He stopped, letting His hand rest in her silky hair. "Gentlemen," He said calmly to His friends, "she's yours. Use her well. Help me to help her learn." She tried to control her breathing as she heard them approach, then the sound of two flies unzipping.

She concentrated on Sir's hand in her hair. Just that. But He removed it and pulled up sharply on the leash, not wanting to ease her fear and discomfort too much. Her face was up and she felt a semi-erect cock pressed to her lips. "Suck him, wench. Be a good little slut and show Him what you like to do best, even when I tell you not to. I'm going to watch." She opened her mouth and took in the cock as she felt a second man begin to fuck her with his fingers. She was so wet they slid in easily, but he wasn't gentle. He rammed her over and over again, two fingers, then three, stretching her. She had no idea how big his cock was. She kept sucking, but found it hard to attend to both men-demanding and uncaring strangers-and what would the third one do, wherever he was? Sir pulled up on her leash. He did not speak or otherwise touch her, just a reminder that He was there. Reassurance or warning?, she wondered. She sucked the cock in her mouth with better attention as the fingers slipped out of her to be replaced by a cock, shoved hard into her.

The one with the cock in her mouth began to rock into her, grabbing her hair and fucking her face, taking His pleasure easily and confidently. From behind, she was pounded by a cock that hurt her with every stroke-not so much long as thick. And he was not giving it to her easily. He rode her hard. Fingernails bit into her hips. Balls slapped her lips, her clit. "Fuck yeah," she heard him grunt. "Nice and tight."

Sir did not respond. It was frightening to be used so by men who were not Sir. But her pussy swelled and swam with her juices still. The man in front of her ground his cock into her mouth faster, yanking harder on her hair. "Can she suck harder?" he asked Sir.

"Suck harder, slut," Sir said, plainly.

Time slowed while her body was battered at both ends. After a short while, she wanted to drop, limp, to the floor. The men's cocks were hard, unrelenting, neither climaxed quickly. Every so often, Sir tugged on her leash to keep her firmly in position, disciplined, for their assault. Her knees hurt. Then, the third man finally rose from the sofa. She had forgotten him. A chain jingled softly. She felt the man slip beneath her body and begin to affix clamps to her nipples with cold fingers. When she whimpered, cock still in her throat, at the sharp pain, the man tightened them further. Searing shards of fire shot through her body as he pulled down on the short chain, yanking her nipples as her full round breasts hung, exposed, before the stranger.

The other two men built a rhythm between them. Each sought his own pleasure, cramming her mouth and pussy, rocking her body at whim, using her to reach climax. The third moved from beneath her, then she felt his cold hand on her ass a moment later. "What can I put in here?" he mused aloud. Sir remained silent. "Yeah, fuck her ass," the one fucking her said.

Continuing to suck and be fucked, she felt the one with the cold hands spread her cheeks. He spit. Then he shoved a finger hard into her. She gasped with the pain, trying not to bite down on the cock in her mouth, wishing she could force the finger and the cock out of her body but, at the same time, wanting them deeper, harder. The guy fucking her finally came with a groan. He drove into her even faster, rougher, harder, as his climax hit. She felt bruised as he slipped from her, as the finger now probed her tight asshole deeper, and a thick, hard cock still swelled in her throat.

She heard the one who'd cum lie back on the sofa. And another sound: someone tearing open a condom? Was it Sir's? The thought moved like lightning through her, making her suck harder and swirl her tongue lovingly around the cock in her mouth. Was this giving Sir pleasure? She'd truly enjoy it without hesitation if it was for His pleasure. But no, the sound was coming from behind her now, not at her side where the leash was still held tightly.

Soon she felt the finger slip from her ass and a slick, hard cock press there. "Take this, sweetheart," He said, slowly driving it into her. The condom was obviously well lubed, but the pain was still both sharp and dull, deep and intense. Sir usually used small plugs or other toys, not something as big as this man's cock, because He knew it still hurt when He fucked her ass. "I want you begging for it, my sweet wench, not suffering," He's said once. With a groan, the man behind her hilted his cock deep within her. Her body rocked with it.

She couldn't feel the nipple clamps at all anymore. Her hands and feet were feeling numb, too. The cock in her mouth swelled and she knew he'd cum soon. Sir must have seen her begin to shake, as He bent down and whispered in her ear, "You're doing so well, wench, just a little longer and you'll be my good girl again."

Strengthened and warmed by the praise, she found the strength to endure more. To endure the quick hard thrusts in her mouth until the cock in her mouth exploded and shot hot cum down her throat. And the fast, hard fuck given her ass by a man who was, thankfully, easily driven over the edge by her tight hole.

Both men moved quietly away from her body. She heard Sir say, "Thanks, guys. Hang around if you like or head out. My wench and I have to have a little conversation." As He spoke, He undid the bar between her numbed ankles, removed the nipple clamps with care, detached the leash, then slipped the blindfold from her eyes. The light in the room hurt her eyes as He tugged on her leash and, in perhaps the greatest humiliation of all, walked her from the room on all fours, like a dog.

She followed Him into her room. He beckoned for her to sit on the edge of the bed. Stood before her. "You did very well in there, wench. Very well."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Did you enjoy it, wench?"