The Capture of Sweet Pussy

The Capture of Pam Sweet Pussy Ch. 02: Early Lessons

Sid opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

“It must be Wednesday,” he thought.

He couldn’t tell from the munching on his cock . The feel of a cotton cheerleader sweater on his knees told him the day of the week. Wednesdays are Pam Sweet Pussy’s cheerleader mornings. Pam was not only his fuck-toy but she was a pretty good calendar/alarm clock too.

He reached under the sheets; grabbed her ears and wiggled them back and forth. This was her signal to start sucking him in earnest. He was awake now and wanted to get hard so she could climb up and ride him; he only had an hour or so before work. The result was like flicking a switch on. Pam Sweet Pussy immediately took his cock into her mouth and bobbed her head up and down comically fast. Sweet Pussy’s low tolerance for pain made her a sometimes overly enthusiastic fuck-toy. Sid would have laughed if it didn’t feel so good. After a few minutes he commanded,

“Let’s hear that cheer now Yaley.”

“Yes Master," Sweet Pussy replied as she scampered up his body; spread her legs and inserted his cock into her pussy.

She was soaking!

“Yeah…she just hates this right?” Sid mussed.

He looked up at his creation. Sweet Pussy wore her Yale Cheerleader Sweater about two sizes too small for her and a pair of dark horn rimmed glasses. Framed by her straight long hair she looked like one of her nightmares, a bimbo college cheerleader. Her alma mater would be so proud.

“Let’s go Sweet Pussy, I want to see that big Y on your sweater dance.”

With a look of anguish Sweet Pussy began to slowly rock up and down on his cock; then she began her cheer:

“2-4-6-8 Fuck me master, fuck me master.”

”2-4-6-8 Fuck me master, fuck me master.”

“2-4-6-8 Fuck me master, fuck me master.”

Slowly at first she ground and gyrated her pussy into Sid’s crotch then increasingly faster.

“2-4-6-8 Fuck me master, fuck me master.”

Sid pulled the sweater over her head and grabbed hold of her tits to spur her on. At that point she really didn’t need any help. Almost lost in the pulsing of her cunt, Sweet Pussy had turned into a portrait of concentration. Long ago she admitted to herself that these sessions with Sid were not just the most humiliating experiences she had ever had but that they were also the very best fucks of her life. She shifted into her high gear now, sweating, groaning, grinding and sobbing as she cheered.

“2-4-6-8 Fuck me master, fuck me master!!!!”

“2-4-6-8 Fuck me master, fuck me master!!!!”

Without warning her jaw dropped and her frame went ridged .

“EEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhh,” blew out of her mouth.

Grabbing her hair and snapping her neck back Sid pulled her head down to lock his eyes with her.

“Whose fuck toy are you bitch?"

“Whose fuck toy are you?” he shouted.

Bucking and rocking he shot himself hard and deep into her orgasm pulses. A hoarse exhausted Pam Sweet Pussy would have collapses onto his chest if he had not held her up by her hair. Breathless she gasped,

”I am Pam Sweet Pussy, Sid’s fuck toy.”

”I …am….. Pam …..Sweet….. Pussy, Sid’s….. fuck toy."

Her hair released, Pam Sweet Pussy fell into Sid’s chest. She held him as tightly as she could while the shivers of her racking orgasm subsided. She was content. She was disgusted with herself. She was becoming well owned.

One Month earlier:

As far as Sid was concerned Pam Sweet Pussy’s first session was going well. A blackmailed Ivy League business bitch; it had been almost too easy to let her compromise herself at the office into a totally untenable situation. Her arrival at his house this evening as ordered was testament to her willingness to do almost anything to prevent him from releasing her dirty little tapes to management.

Pam stood now with her hands tethered to a whipping post. She thought it was ridiculous. She was willing to fuck Sid a few times to get him off her back; and thought this tie-up crap was just part of his little game.

“What’s with this cuff shit," she thought.

"Oh well, it’s not like I haven’t been tied up before.”

She was attached to one of Sid’s most favored devices. The post while fixed to the floor could be adjusted in height from 6” to 4 feet and had a swiveling metal top. When a captive was chained at the 4 foot position, as Pam Sweet Pussy was, she could stand showing her ass at a great advantage.

Pam tried to save some of her dignity by not letting Sid know how uncertain she was about their meeting. She actually arrived in a business suit of all things. When he cuffed, collared and attached her to the whipping post she still had the look of a defiant, confident aristocrat willing to submit somewhat to the petty needs of a peasant. It wasn’t until Sid approached her with a knife that she showed even a glimmer of uneasiness . Reading her concern Sid said,

“Not to worry this knife is not for you it’s for your clothes.”

He then proceeded to shred every piece of her clothing off her body in under a minute. Pam’s eyes went wide with shock as she saw her $2000.00 designer suit being turned into rags.

“Son of a Bitch!” she spat at him.

The slap across her face arrived so quickly the sound of it registered with Pam before the pain; and the pain was substantial.

“OOOOOOwwwwww,” she cried, her eyes widening with rage.

“Kick off your shoes,” he commanded.

His look told her clearly that her best option was to comply. As Pam fumbled to kick off her shoes Sid expertly adjusted the whipping post and slid it down to its lowest level. Pam bent at the waist and was almost pulled over as the cuffs forced her wrists down to the floor. Sid locked the post with an authoritative snap of the hinge. She could move in circles and to some degree up and down. However, both hands were secured 6 inches from the floor. Her ass stuck out like a presentation. Sid was going to give Pam a beating she would remember the rest of her life. He wanted her to have the ability to jump, shout, kick and scream. He wanted her to physically exhaust herself running away from his strikes. She would eventually lie spread full out on the floor too exhausted to do anything but whimper as his blows continued to punish her flesh.

This was to be a defining life event for Pam Sweet Pussy. She did not have a clue that she would never be the same. Sid went to the far wall and returned wearing a full face mask and holding a well used riding crop in his hand.

“Pam Sweet Pussy this is your first lesson and the start of your slavery to me.”

Before Pam’s mind could react to what was about to happen Sid unleashed a torrent of rapid, forceful back and forth strokes across her ass. The effect was extraordinary; her eyes bulged in shock, she drew in her breath so quickly she almost chocked. She had never felt such pain before. She could not believe that this was happening to her.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwww," she cried.

“ God, stop it stop it!” now she was screaming.

Soon the sounds that came out of her were more animal than human. She moved around rapidly in her little circle as expected to escape the blows and Sid chased her faster and faster as she went first in this direction then in the other.

“Come on bitch, run," Sid barked as he pounded her.

“Run you little cunt.”

Pam eventually fell to her knees bucking with every blow. she turned to face Sid hoping to prevent the onslaught on her ass cheeks but Sid showed no hesitation in punishing her tits and her torso with the same ferocity he used on her ass cheeks. Jumping up again she ran and ran, screaming and begging until she was hoarse. When Sid stopped, Pam lie in a heap on the floor sniveling.

“What do you want,

“What do you want me to do…please don’t beat me anymore.”

“I’ll do anything you say.” Pam was pleading.

“I want to hear you scream and beg Pam,

Sid said in a frighteningly calm voice,

“I want to see your ass cherry red, I want to see you jump when I flinch,

I want you to understand that I own you.”

Sid paused for about 30 seconds, staring down at her and then he began to strike her again. This time she pulled herself into a fetal position and rocked back and forth in agony. Her screams grew so hoarse they began to sound like barking. After a time the blows began to slow. They were now not so much designed to inflict pain as terror. Sid toyed and played with her fear. Hitting in odd spots. First rhythmically then randomly. When she thought her ordeal was over, another strike would tell her it wasn’t. Pam would remember this as the worst part of the lesson. Never knowing if it was over while praying it was. Eventually, Sid knelt down next to the vibrating heap below him and said:

“That Pam Sweet Pussy is a taste, just a taste of what I am capable of doing to you.

“If you ever think to disobey me remember this beating if you ever think to escape me remember this beating.”

“Answer me now, who owns you Pam Sweet Pussy?”

“I am Pam Sweet Pussy and I am owned by my master Sid” she whispered.

Sid laughed at her eloquence. “Nothing like an ivy league education.”

He stepped back, removed his mask and walked over to a video camera in the corner. Pam, too exhausted to move saw his actions from the corner of her eye and groaned. He had recorded this humiliation. She was beginning to think he was right. There may be no escape. She also knew to her core that she would do anything, anything to avoid a beating like that again.

“Tomorrow morning you will give me the keys to your apartment and I’ll get you some clothes. You’ll be here a couple of days.”

Sid threw a blanket over Pam Sweet Pussy….kissed her gently on the forehead and whispered.

“I wouldn’t want my new little toy to catch cold.

“Sleep tight.”