Submissive Beth

Next to sex, Beth's favorite pleasure in life was shopping. She would disappear for hours at a time, only to come home laden with packages from nearly every woman's store at the mall. Like clock-work, Saturday mornings at 10:00 a.m. would find her headed off for a morning (and often dragging on to early afternoon) of power shopping. Today was seemingly no different, and as I sat in my favorite arm chair reading the sports page, I decided that this particular morning things needed to be a little different.

She strolled down the stairs wearing one of my favorite outfits—a pastel-yellow sun dress, "V" cut in the chest, with white embroidered lace along the length of the "V". She looked stunning as always in it.

Bright-eyed, she asked, "Do you need anything at the store, David?"

"You're going shopping?" I asked dumbly.

She laughed. "Of course. It's Saturday, silly."

I looked her over from head to toe. "You are not dressed properly for shopping," I said.

"Excuse me?" she asked with an inquisitive look on her face.

"It looks like you are wearing a slip under that skirt," I said.

"Yes, of course. I always wear a half-slip with this dress."

"Take the slip off," I said in a firm voice.

"The dress is made of a very light material," she said in an almost begging voice. "You can almost see right through it without the slip. "

"I guess that's the idea," I said.

"You want me to go shopping like that?"

"Would you rather come over my lap for a good, hard spanking? You certainly deserve one. I believe I asked you nicely. My next order will not be so nice."

Her lower lip half pouting, Beth reached under the hem of the skirt with both of her hands, grasped the half-slip, and pulled it down. It fell silently to the floor in a circle. She stepped away and picked up the white silk garment.

"Happy?" she asked in a tone that was starting to make my blood boil. I ignored her attitude for the moment.

Yes, she was right. It was not difficult to discern the outline of her white panties beneath the thin fabric, and were she to walk in the sunlight, anyone would have a beautiful view of her legs through the thin material.

"Almost," I replied, "but you are still under-dressed. You need to take the panties off too."

She looked at me with an exasperated look that suggested I was bordering on being crazy. For a fleeting moment she thought about objecting to my order, but my threat to spank her (and I would have given her a really severe one) was enough to dissuade any thought of protest.

"Let me see them first," I said.

Beth shrugged her shoulders and blithely lifted the front of her skirt all the way up to waist. Like her slip, the panties were silky-white, French cut, with a half inch band of lace along the lower edge, beginning at the reinforced crotch. Her pubic mound jutted out nicely at the base of the abdomen.

I made her hold her skirt up like that for several moments, until I knew she was really getting annoyed with me. Here I was rudely invading her special shopping time. "Okay, remove them."

Red-faced, more from anger than embarrassment, she put her thumbs into the elastic edge of the panties and quickly drew them down and off, tossing them with a dramatic flare onto the nearby sofa. She started to turn, as if to go.

"Did I say it was time to leave?"

"No, sir," she replied with more than a slight amount of obvious disdain in her voice.

"Turn around. Nice and slowly."

She was right. The lack of slip and panties left little if anything to the imagination. In front, with just a little straining of the eye, one could make out the faint outline of a triangle of dark curls. She looked so cute and sexy I thought about fucking her on the spot.

"Raise your dress again," I sternly ordered.

She reached down for the hem once more. "Slowly… very slowly," I said with a wry smile.

I watched the skirt move up her nicely tanned legs ever so slowly. She turned her head to the side, refusing to look at me. Her insolence was beginning to get quite annoying. "Look at me!" I almost shouted.

She took a noticeable breath, then looked straight at me, following my eyes as they gazed at the rising skirt. Her legs were never more beautiful, the thick forest of dark-brown curls never so alluring. I made her stand like that, skirt raised to her waist, airing her sweet cunny, for the better part of five minutes.

She finally broke the pregnant silence. "May I go now?" Then thoughtfully added, upon reflection, "Sir."

I smiled. "Yes, you may go, as soon as you complete what you need to be wearing."

She looked at me, dumbfounded.

"Now, my dear, you are obviously under-dressed for shopping today. I need to help you with one more thing. Come here."

Beth dropped her skirt and, still with that hesitant look on face, approached me nervously. Little did she know she had every right to be nervous. "Turn around and face the wall," I commanded.

Beth turned, not knowing what to expect.

"Bend over!" She complied instantly.

Leaning forward, I reached down to the hem of her skirt and quickly lifted it over her waist, exposing her delectable ass. I gave her two hard, stinging slaps, one to each side of the split pumpkin, and she yelped at each one.

"That's for your insolence. There will be a lot more later. Spread your cheeks!"

Obediently, she reached behind her and pried the pumpkin open. Her anus, still feeling the remnants of last night's reaming, looked cute and sexy. Reaching to the side of the arm chair, I picked up a jar of Vaseline I had hidden out of sight, dipped my middle finger into it, then quickly brought the finger, now coated with goo, to the exposed asshole. I circled the pucker once or twice with the tip of my finger, feeling it loosen slightly, then pressed all the way inside her. She grunted loudly as it entered her.

I lubricated her well, dipping my finger back into the jar for more goo, then eased two fingers into her on the next sojourn. I wiggled the fingers against the soft walls of her rectum until I felt she was loose enough for the next step of adding to her wearing apparel.

I reached to the side of the chair again and picked up a flesh-colored butt plug, tapered from its thin tip to its expansive knob, then tapered once more to accommodate her gripping anus. The flanged end of the plug was wide enough to prevent entry of the entire device into the rectal orifice. I coated the plug with a copious amount of Vaseline, then placed the tip against Beth's pucker.

"What is that?" she exclaimed.

"Just a little butt plug. Stay still."

The thinner front end of the plug went in easily. As the device got more wide, however, the entry slowed to a trickle. As I got nearer to its widest girth, Beth groaned in pain. I backed it out, let the sphincter relax, then moved it back in. It took almost ten minutes, with Beth gasping for air, but I finally pushed the plug all the way in, her anus hugging it tightly, its bulbous base rudely filling her much too abuse rectum.

"Damn, that hurts!" she cried.

"Stay still, you will get used to it. At least you better get used to it. This is how you are going shopping."

"You're not serious!" she exclaimed.

"Very serious," I replied. "Stand up."

Beth stood, somewhat uneasily due to the protuberance sticking out of her ass. Her skirt fell into place. She turned and faced me, her face as red as I had ever seen it.

"I hope you are kidding," she said with an frustrated look on her sweet face. I watched a tear form at the edge of her left eye.

"I am not kidding, Beth. Every move you make, every little step you take, will remind you of who your master is. To say that I have been displeased with your behavior today is an understatement. I expect obedience without question, immediately upon my command. I will let you go shopping, instead of whipping your little ass raw right this very minute, only because I love you. But when you return, you can expect to be punished for your indiscretions, young lady. You will not take that butt plug out for any reason. When you return home, you will immediately strip all of your clothes off and go down to the Punish Room. Do you have any questions?"

She paused, her mind spinning with a hundred different potential responses to my orders, but finally blurted "No, sir." Her reluctance to oppose my requirements saved her from a lot more pain.

I had to laugh to myself as I watched her move gingerly out the door, pocketbook in hand. I knew the butt plug would be a grim reminder of her servitude the entire time it was inside her. I pictured her struggles just sitting on her ass as she drove the car, ensuring the plug would be deeply ensconced. But the plug would turn out to be the easiest "punishment" for her all day. Her insolence had left me with no other choice.

I was in the kitchen upon her return, perhaps two hours later. It was a shorter shopping trip than usual, and I think the butt plug may have been a deciding factor in coming home more quickly than usual. She dropped several packages on the sofa, then quickly took off her shoes, sun dress, and bra, the only items she was still wearing. Her face was red as a beet as she plodded on cat-like feet, totally naked, to await her fate in the Punish Room.

I finished my last cup of coffee of the day before meandering down the stairs to my waiting slave. Like a good girl, she was standing in the middle of the floor, facing away from me, her hands nervously fidgeting at her sides. The flanged end of the butt plug was easily visible at the base of her ass. I could only imagine how uncomfortable it must have been for her these past few hours.

I moved in front of her. She lowered her head, knowing not to look at me. "You displeased me immensely today," I said.

"I am sorry, Sir," she said in a tiny whisper.

"No, you are only a little sorry at this moment. By the time I am done with you, you will be very sorry."

She whimpered. Her lips trembled slightly. She was a scared rabbit, and rightfully so. She knew I was upset with her. Not playfully upset. Her chest heaved with each breath. She looked lovely, indeed. Some women do not carry their nakedness well; Beth was exquisite in hers. She had a pretty face, with brown, puppy dog bedroom eyes and a pug nose. Her lips were the way I liked a woman's lips to be—full and pouty. Blow-job lips. Her breasts were no more than a "B" cup, but they stood out proudly, with no sag whatsoever, capped by half-dollar sized areola and pink nipples that yearned to be sucked or clamped, depending on one's mood at the time. She stood erect, shoulders back, almost proudly, but not defiantly so. Her dark-brown, shoulder-length hair shimmered in the light of the room. Her ass was nicely rounded, dimpled where it meets the thigh. The hairs of her pussy stood out prominently at the base of her abdomen, matching the color of her hair above. Her legs were long and lithe, her ankles tapered perfectly.

"I am going to remove the butt plug," I said. She answered with a nod of head, then bent at the waist without being asked to give me better access to the device. As I moved behind her, she opened her legs accommodatingly. "This will hurt a bit, but not as much as going in."

I grasped the end of the plug and pulled outward. Beth gasped in pain. I pulled harder and it came out more easily than I thought it would. She gasped out loud when the intruder finally popped out. I put the plug on the work bench, then took a riding crop from the wall of whips. The crop, lean and mean, was the only appropriate tool for my recalcitrant little slut. Since this would be her first introduction to the crop, I would not wield it full force. I only intended to teach her a lesson.

I moved in front of her once more. She was now standing once again, hands again at her sides. "I told you in the beginning, Beth, that I would never punish you when I am mad at you. Please understand that I am not mad. Displeased, yes, but not mad. This will be a lesson in deportment. Your behavior this morning was abominable. When I give you an order, it is to be obeyed without delay or, if it is something against your will, you may use the safe-word. There is no in-between. Do you understand?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes, Master."

"This riding crop carries a real sting. It hurts twice as bad when the cheeks of the ass are nice and taut. Like when you are bent over. You may do so now. Grab your ankles! Present yourself!"

Beth was so much more docile now than she had been earlier. Facing the crop has a strange tendency to make anyone immediately obedient. I moved behind her. The view of her nicely presented buttocks was enough to get the blood flowing to my cock. Her ass, so very spankable, was in perfect position to feel the effect of the crop. The end of the crop, like all good riding crops, had a triangular piece of double leather. The idea behind the this wider piece of leather is to strike both the flanged leather end and about three or four inches of the end of the crop at the same time. The unfortunate result to the recipient is a double-edged sting that is sharp and biting. I had used crops without the flange, but these seemed to be more cruel than I really intended. The goal was to turn Beth's pain into pleasure, eventually, and the crop in hand was more than capable of doing so.

"I am going to give you six strokes, Beth, each one a little bit harder than the previous one. You will count each stroke, thank me for it, then ask me for a harder one. If your hands move even an inch away from your ankles, or if you lose count, we start all over."

"Please…" she whispered, but before the next words could come out of her mouth, I reached back and let the crop snap across her proffered buttocks with a loud THWAAAAAAAACK.

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she cried out. "ONE! Oh, thank you, Master. Please give me a harder one."

"Kinda stings, huh?" My question was rhetorical. The second stroke landed just above the previous one, causing has ass to ripple nicely.

"AHHHHHHH! Shit! TWO! Thank you, Master. Please give me a harder one."

I looked down and surveyed the damage—two beautiful stripes across her cute, white buns. She was doing well, however, taking it bravely. The third stroke was upward, hitting just above the juncture where ass meets thigh. Not a particularly sensitive area, but one that she didn't expect at all.

"EEEEEEEE! THREE!" This time there was a longer pause as she gained her composure. "Thank you, master. Please give me a harder one."

I ran the tip of the riding crop over Beth's already beleaguered ass, across each of the bright red stripes. I drew the crop back, at the ready, and watched her try to brace herself. Instead, I gently ran the pliable leather at the end of crop all over her exposed buttocks. Just when she thought she could relax, I reached back and drove it sharply across the center of the target area.

She nearly fell forward as the stroke landed, but she managed to keep her balance as she cried out loudly. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Oh, it hurts like hell! FOUR! Thank you, Master. Please give me a harder one."

Her words seemed to trail off at mid-sentence. "It might be nice if I were to hear a sincere apology for today's obstinance."

"Oh, Master, I am truly sorry for being bad," she said, half-sobbing her words.

"If you should ever be bad again?" I asked.

"Then I deserve to be punished," she admitted.

"You have two more strokes left."

"Yes, if that is your desire, Master…"

Prepared for the fifth stroke, the hardest yet, Beth took it better than any of the others. She yelped, grunted in pain once or twice, and took a deep breath. "FIVE! Thank you, Master. Please, may I have the last one. The hardest one."

I walked around my sweet Beth in a slow circle, holding the riding crop menacingly. She looked so beautiful, bent over completely, her breasts hanging down, her ass poked out provocatively. She had taken her first five strokes like a pro, and while I knew I would not deliver the last one harder than I thought she could withstand, it would be hard enough to get her attention for a long time to come.

I continued walking the circle several times, each time pausing behind her, letting her think it was time for the final delivery. Every time she thought she was about to receive the last stroke, she clenched her hands tightly around the front of her ankles in anticipation. I think I loved Beth just as much for her bravery as for her ability to withstand the first five blows of the wicked crop.

Beth's tension filled the air so much you could cut it with a knife. At my third pass, I paused behind her and slid the tip of the crop through her exposed pussy, pressing against the vulva . It came out of the "V" of her opened legs with a copious amount of her moisture. She may have been as scared little bunny rabbit, but this little session was certainly leaving the tell-tale signs of arousal.

I pretended to begin yet another circle around her, then suddenly paused, reached back, and let the crop whistle through the air. It cracked across her ass sharply, causing her to call out a long, painful "EEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAA." Somehow she was able to brace herself and keep from falling forward, which would have made me start from the beginning. "SIX! Oh… Oh…. Thank you Master. I deserved what you just did to me."

Her ass was a deep red, with six gorgeous streaks from top to bottom. I knew at that point that I would have to begin taking photographs to capture some of these moments, so we could look back at our beginning adventures into the world of BDSM and recall these wonderful memories.

"Stand up," I ordered.

Beth stood on wobbly knees, her breathing ragged, her brow more sweaty than I had ever seen it. Her head remained lowered in a true submissive's pose. "Have you learned your lesson, young lady?"

"Yes, Master."

"The next time you fail to act when I tell you to do something, it will be ten times worse than what you just experienced. There is no room for disobedience in this house. You may kneel down and worship me to express your willingness to serve."

She knelt, head still lowered, and moved her hands to undo my pants. "No!" I interrupted, "No hands for this occasion. You may use your teeth and lips only."

An exasperated look appeared on her pretty face, but she folded her hands behind her back and began to remove my pants with her lips. She struggled mightily, and, to my surprise, accomplished her task in a speedier fashion that I would have imagined. Once the pants encircled my feet, she never took her eyes off the bulge in my underwear. It took no encouragement at all on my part to have her remove the last barrier in the completion of her mission. As my cock sprung from its confines, standing at attention just inches from Beth's face, she leaned forward and began kissing lightly all over my turgid member. She licked the length of it with the flat of her tongue, swirled her tongue around the bulbous head, and slowly worked her mouth over it.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the one precious bit of expertise she had brought to our relationship. Beth knew how to suck cock. In fact, I had never known anyone who was better than her in that regard. She devoured me completely in one quick motion of her head, deep-throating me with such finesse that I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I grasped the side of her head and guided it up and down my shaft, more than once or twice tickling her throat with the cockhead. She moaned almost the entire time, leading one to believe from her sounds that she was the one receiving all the benefits of her wonderful abilities.

"Be prepared to swallow," I husked.

I felt the beginnings of an orgasm long before my spendings shot deeply into her throat. I held her head once more, tightly, assuring all of the sperm would be swallowed. I held her head until she gulped the last drop, then released her and withdrew my sword from its warm, moist sheath. I held two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at me.