Pleasure Pacage

I stick my key into the lock. The light flashes green, and I hear the familiar bzzzt of the electronic lock popping open. I step into your apartment.

"Hi! Sorry I'm late, I got caught up finishing something at work," I say.

You're sitting on a couch next to the window. Your jet-black hair is combed into perfect waves, and the muscles in your arms and chest strain your button down shirt. You look up from your computer.

"There's a package for you on the bed, " you say, your green brown eyes stare at my face, unblinking.

I slip off my shoes, running my finger down the tip of my instep. I feel your gaze on me.

I walk into the bedroom, and notice a package wrapped in red paper on the bed.

"Shit," I mutter. I bought the little vibrator I know is inside the package a while ago, I'd forgotten it was coming today. I meant to get home before you found it in the mailbox.

I feel your warm breath on my neck as you walk up behind me.

"Shall I take it you've been feeling bored?" you ask.

"No! Not when you're around at least."

You walk around me and look down at me. "So I take it you've been pleasuring yourself when I'm not here. Even though that's against the rules."

"Uh well, you know, if it's just a necessity its not really...pleasuring, right?"

Your gaze is intense. Despite your serious expression, I know you're smiling somewhere inside, you're always amused by my horny-ness.

"Kneel," you direct.

I lower myself to the floor shakily. Our play sessions are always planned. Usually finite spaces of time carefully separated from the rest of life, aside from the no masturbating rule that you use to maximize my sensitivity. Clearly, today is going to be different.

"Hands behind your back."

My oversized 32F tits strain against the fabric of my dress. My knees dig into the slight scratch of the carpet, and I look up at you with large dark eyes. My curly dark hair tumbles to each side of my breasts, and I pout slightly, cocking my head at you. Wanting to appear both coy and supple, awaiting your command, but not necessarily ready to give in.

"Well, aren't you confident. What, you think I'm just going to give you more pleasure, after you show that clearly you can't even follow one simple rule, designed for your own happiness?"

I remain silent. You squat down in front of me. You extend your hand, and brush the right side of my hair back.

You lean forward, and whisper in your ear, your breath softly tickling me, "listen carefully now, my horny little minx, there are four rules tonight:

1)you may call me sir, and only call me sir for the remainder of the night.

2)Whenever I command you to do something, reply with a "yes sir".

3)you may not cum until I give you permission to do so

4)you may not moan or make any noise of pleasure unless I command you to do so"

"Shall we get started?"

I nod.

"Yes sir, should be the response," you say, frowning at me.

"Yes sir," I reply.

"Good. Get down on all fours, now. Lets get that flat little ass on display," you say, your voice dropping even deeper.

"Yes sir," I reply. Placing my hands on the floor.

"Now, I'm not sure you even deserve a spanking, given how much pleasure you get out of having your ass slapped," you say, as you lean down to caress my buttocks, "Plus, I doubt you could keep from moaning."

You continue rubbing my ass, and I start to squirm back into your hand. A slight moan escapes my lips. *Shit.*

"What ever shall we do with you?" you ask, "you can't even keep from moaning when I barely touch you."

*Slap.* I jump forward. Where did the riding crop come from? I think to myself.

*Swoosh.* *Slap.* *Swoosh.* *Slap.* You continue to whip me with the riding crop, making me arch and dip my back in time with your strokes. As the stinging begins to grow, I try to wiggle away, but you hold my hips firm with your large hands.

"No moving."

"Yes sir."

After another minute of cropping, I find myself starting to get wet. I think you must know, because you stand up and walk over to the toy box.

"Thank me each time I slap you with this paddle," you say, turning to show me the heavy, black silicone paddle in your hand.

I look up at you, wide eyed, as you walk around me.

"Yes sir."

*Twack.* You hit me. Hard. My stomach rolls; how embarrassing to have to thank you for this.

"I'm waiting," you say, as you caress my ass with the paddle.

I open and close my mouth a few times. Finally the words escape, a mere note above a whisper, "thank you."

"I can't hear you, little one, what did you say."

"Thank you," I say, a bit louder.

"You're forgetting something, aren't you?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Better."

*Twack.*

"Thank you, sir."

*Twack.* "Thank y-." *Twack.*

"Faster," you snap. My cheeks flush; usually I'm the one telling you to hurry up.

"Yes sir, thank you, sir," I reply, beginning to grow red with embarrassment. You continue, alternating your blows with my thanks. My pussy is beginning to feel warm and wet. It's becoming hard not to let a moan escape whenever I open my mouth to thank you.

Mercifully, you stop.

"Alright," you say, "sit up and squeeze those tits like the dirty little girl you are."

"Yes sir."

"Now, tell me why your ass is spanked red, and why you're sitting in front of me like this."

"I don't know," I reply. I look up at you coyly, testing you, as I set my hands back on the floor.

"Hands squeezing your boobs, NOW. And, you better have a good response, unless you want my riding crop on your bare ass."

I *hate* that damn crop.

"Because I'm horny, " I say quietly.

"I couldn't quite hear you, but I think you said because you're a horny little cunt, isn't that right?"

"Yes sir."

"I'm glad we agree. Now then, off with that dress: unzip yourself."

"Yes sir."

I turn my back to you, reach around, and slide my zipper down.

[To be continued...]