Tamra was excited. It was Friday evening; she sat in the passenger seat of the car, her eyes were taped shut, and most of her face was obscured by the largest sunglasses she had ever seen. It must be getting dark now, but she could not tell. She had walked in from work at about 4 p.m., and her boyfriend, Jo, was sitting waiting for her. He ordered her to sit down, and she had complied, not sure what was going on.
It still was not clear, but he had read out a list of things she had done wrong over the last few weeks, everything from forgetting to put the trash out, to burning the potatoes on Sunday; there were at least 40 things read out. She had been told it was unacceptable and that she needed to be punished. Excitement had blossomed between Tamra's legs at that statement, but then she was ordered to do something that did not sound like punishment at all. She had to go and change into a dress suitable for a grand hotel, and pack a bag for the weekend--clothes she would look smart in, but that would enable easy access and mobility.
She had put on a beautiful red dress that flowed around her body and normally only came out for entertaining, then packed another smart dress and two skirts, underwear, and 3 tops, all her classiest ones. She picked up a pair of dress shoes with a slight heel and put on a red pair that matched her dress, with a three-quarter heel. Last of all she grabbed wash and makeup bags. She arrived back downstairs with everything in her small Gucci suitcase.
Sitting by the door was a large case, much bigger than her boyfriend would require for the weekend. God only knew what he had in there. Jo walked in front of her holding a butt plug; it was not the largest they owned, but it was one of the bigger ones. He held it in front of her and pulled from a table beside him a pepper spray. He smiled and sprayed the plug heavily; the bounce-off stung her eyes.
"Turn around, bend over, and pull your dress up," came the instruction.
Tamra complied, and as she raised her dress a hard slap that made her cry out landed on her arse. "How dare you put knickers on! Remove them now," came the annoyed statement from Jo.
"Sorry, Sir," she replied, in something little better than a whimper.
Tamra pulled her panties down slowly. They stung the area that had been slapped, but they dropped to the floor, and she stepped out of them. Quickly she bent back over again and raised her dress, not wanting yet another slap. With force that made her gasp, a finger with lube on was pushed into her little brown star. In a slightly rough manner, it was spread around, then the finger removed. Moments later, the plug was pushed against her ring. Even though it wasn't really touching anything other than lube, she could feel the heat. The force with which it was then pushed up made her cry out a second time. There was no delicate work it in; it was forced hard.
"Wait, stop, no," she yelped. The burning was almost unbearable, but the stretching that was being forced was the issue.
Two hard slaps landed, one on each cheek. Tamra sobbed. "Do as you are told. Naughty little girls take their punishment without comment." The words almost spat into her ear. The next push forced it in, her sphincter closing around the spine, the burning in her arse the most unpleasant punishment she could recall. She sobbed, tears rolling down her face.
As she fought the pain, she whispered, "Thank you, Sir."
Jo tuned her around and sat her down on the chair by the door. He delicately dried the tears from her eyes, and from her face. Then he said in a kind voice, "Close your eyes, and keep them closed." Before she closed her eyes, she saw in his hand some sunglasses. They were huge, with big round eyes that would cover half her face.
Tamra closed her eyes and moments later she felt tape being pushed onto her eyelids and then onto the top of her cheeks, firmly holding her eyes closed. After a moment the sunglasses were placed on her face, creating a black view for her.
She had been guided to the car, and strapped in. She heard the bags being placed in the back, then they drove off. She had no idea where they were going, and the lack of sight was making her focus on the burning in her arse; the plug was painful and uncomfortable.
The car stopped, and Jo got out, from how long they had driven, and the sounds that burst into the car when the door opened, Tamra guessed they were in New York. She heard Jo saying something to somebody, but she could not make it out. Several moments past, the sounds of the city coming into the car. Suddenly her door was opened, and she felt a hand on her. Then Jo said, "Come on, dear," and helped her out of the car.
Jo guided her up some steps and through some big double doors. She was trying to work out where she was exactly, but everything went quiet as they got into the building. Walking with the burning butt plug was really uncomfortable, and she was just moving where Jo directed; she had no idea where she was. They came to a stop and a voice said, "Good Evening, Sir, how may I help you?"
From beside her Jo said, "I have a reservation for the weekend, name of Smith."
There was a pause then the voice said, "Arr, Mr. and Mrs. Jo Smith, you are booked in until Sunday with late check-out of 4pm."
"That's us," Jo said.
"Excellent, can I just take a credit card swipe please?" the voice said.
There was some movement and Tamra heard a pin being entered, just as a presence appeared beside her, she could tell somebody was there but nothing more, then a voice beside her said, "Which room?"
The first voice said, "1207." There was a pause then and before he continued, "Here is your key, Mr. Smith, the junior suite with a balcony overlooking the park. Please enjoy, and if you need anything, please give us a call."
"Thank you," said Jo, then she felt her arm taken again, and she was moving at the mercy of Jo.
Tamra felt them enter an elevator, and heard the bong of the bell as a floor was pressed. As the car swiftly moved up, Jo spoke, "My good man, when we get to the room, would you like a cash tip, or would you prefer to bend my wife over the bed and spank her bottom as hard as you can, then have her give you a blow job?"
There was some very uncomfortable huffing and then a reply, "That is not appropriate, sir. I could get fired."
"I am not going to tell anybody, and Tamra here will do exactly as she is told, won't you, Tamra?" Jo said.