Liar Liar

Karen was starting to worry. The “motivational coach” was coming for her first weight control session and Karen had not been totally truthful. When she contacted him, she told him she was 5’ 4” and weighted 135 pounds. Summer was rapidly approaching and she wanted to drop 10 pounds before the swim suit season.

Karen was really 10 or 12 pounds heavier and she knew from their telephone conversation that he would be very strict, that he would discipline her for any misrepresentation.

“Are you sure that’s what you weigh,” he challenged her.

“Yes,” she insisted. And In a moment of temporary insanity Karen even suggested that he paddle her, with her old college sorority paddler if she couldn’t stick to his diet plan, or if what she told him wasn’t true,.

“That won’t be necessary, to use your college paddle. I bring my own equipment.”

He went on to warn her. “This isn’t a joke, Karen, because I will paddle you if you’ve been untruthful, or if I decide that’s the motivation you require.”

He continued. “When I was a kid, we used to say ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire,’ if we caught another kid telling a lie. But in your case, Karen, your ass will be on fire if you’ve not been totally honest with me.”

Karen’s stomach was in knots thinking about this. By the time the doorbell rang she was almost in a panic. At the instant the bell sounded she wished she could go and hide. Why did I ever get started with this, she asked herself. But from many years of dieting failure, Karen knew she didn’t have the self-discipline required to lose weight. So she went to the door and opened it.

The motivational coach was in his early 40s, 5’9”, trim, athletic. He had short blond hair and very blue eyes; he carried a small briefcase.

“Hi, I’m Denis. You must be Karen. And you know why I’m here.”

“Yes.”

“And you understand my methods?

“Yes …” with some hesitation in her voice.

“Then are you ready for your first weight-in?”

“Yes, I guess so …”

“Good, then we can get started. First of all get the scale, and then take off your clothes. You can wear your bra and panties for now.”

Karen didn’t think he would be so direct. Or that she would have to taken off her clothing. She froze in apprehension.

“What’s the matter? Can’t you follow a simple instruction? Do I have to spank you already?”

“I thought …”

“If you could think, you wouldn’t need me to train you. Now get the scale.”

Without waiting for an answer, he opened his case and took out the strap. It was made of black leather, about 2 inches wide and maybe two and a half feet long. It appeared to be very flexible and it was warn with age. He doubled it over and wrapped it once around his fist. Then he hit her once on the ass, hard.

“Ahhh!”

“Now get going! Unless you want me to give you another!”

Karen was dumbfounded. She knew corporal punishment was part of his motivational method, “negative reinforcement” he called it, but she didn’t think it would be quite like this. She ran from the room but came back quickly. Karen didn’t want to risk being hit again. She faced him as she bent over to put the scale on the floor. She didn’t want to give him a target. Then she stood up, and looked at him dumbly. Karen was in a daze.

“Now strip, before I give you another.”

“Please?”

This time he hit her on the front of her legs, just above the knees. Karen didn’t need another reminder. Quickly she took off her blouse, and then her slacks. Karen stood there in her bra and panties, trying to look calm, but her heart was beating a mile a minute.

He looked at her closely, up and down.

“Nice tits but you have too much belly. We’ll need to get you to do sit-ups and crunches on a regular basis – to tighten you up - to work off some of the excess flab.”

Karen blushed.

“Now get on the scale. It should read 135 I believe.”

Before she got on the scale, Karen knew the answer. It was a digital scale and it would read exactly147 pounds.

“Is the scale broken?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I don’t understand.”

“’No, sir’ is the correct response,” as he gave her the strap across her ass another time. Without her slacks, it hurt even more.

“We’ll try one more time. Is the scale broken?”

“No … sir.”

“It reads 147 pounds?”

“Yes, sir.”

“An eating binge in the last 2 days?”

“No ….. sir,” with lots of hesitation in her voice.

“So you weren’t being totally truthful?

“No, sir.”

“And you know I’m going to punish you for that …”

“I expect so, sir.”

“For being 12 pounds over, I’m going to give you a dozen with the strap on your fat ass.”

That comment hurt.

“And then you’ll take another dozen on the backs of your legs for lying. I told you this isn’t a joke, Karen. But apparently you think it is. To let you know I’m very serious, I have a special way to motivate you to do better next time.”

Karen was afraid to ask what it might be.

“Take off your panties,” he ordered. Then he made her lean over the back of a chair, her legs wide apart, to take the first dozen, hard, on her ass. Since her junior year in college Karen had trimmed her pubic hair, and in that revealing position her pussy and asshole were clearly visible.

For the second dozen, Karen was made to kneel on the seat of the chair with her legs together. There wasn’t anything to see, but it hurt a lot more when he spanked her on the backs of her legs.

After the beating he made Karen lean over the back of the chair again. It was the same humiliating position as before, standing up on her toes, with her legs open apart. At first she thought he was going to fuck her in the ass.

“Don’t move,” he warned.”

She could hear him walking to his briefcase, and then he came back.

“Karen, it’s clear you need to be motivated. You really do need a discipline program to develop your self control.”

He walked in front of her as she leaned over the chair.

“Look up, Karen, look at me.” He showed her something small, wrapped in gold foil, about the size of a large bullet.

“It’s a suppository – a very effective suppository. It contains just a little bit of powdered ginger – enough to get your attention. It’s very effective for certain kinds of training.”

Karen watched as he unwrapped the suppository. She had heard of them, had seen them in bottles in the drug store, but had never really seen one close up.

Then he was in back of her again, spreading the cheeks of her ass with one hand. Slowly he teased the pucker of her asshole with his middle finger. Over the phone Karen had confessed that she had always been a little bit anal. She didn’t tell him she was the kind of girl who likes a guy to put his finger up her ass when she was 69ing. That was too personal. But the disciplinarian’s finger felt nice, much nicer than the strap. Karen started to wiggle her ass against his hand, so he slapped her hard.

“This isn’t for your pleasure,” and he slapped her a second time

Then he put the suppository into her. It went in easily, and then he pushed it up her ass as far as he could.

“Stay very still,” he warned, “or I’ll use the strap again.” Karen was too afraid to move, and he kept his finger up her ass for at least a minute to give the suppository time to melt.

“I think this needs to be a real learning experience. Get over there, in the corner, hands on your head, nose up against the wall. Let’s see if you can do 20 minutes. And if I ever catch you lying to me again, I’ll take you to a shopping mall, put another one of these up your ass, and walk you around for half an hour.”

But for now, it was just the corner that she dreaded. Years ago Karen hated doing corner time as punishment. Being ordered to stand in the corner with her nose up against the wall brought back a flood of painful childhood memories. Now that she was a grown woman it was even more painful. G-d, it was so humiliating, being treated like a naughty child.

“Not that, please. I don’t like the corner.

He gave her 3 or 4 with the strap to get her moving. Reluctantly, Karen clinched the cheeks of her pudgy ass and waddled over to the corner. Without having to be told, she put her hands on top her head.

Why 20 minutes, Karen asked herself, as she stood in the corner. Within a minute or two Karen could feel the burning sensation caused by the ginger. Soon after her stomach started churning, and after 15 painful minutes it was clear she needed to evacuate.

“Please, sir.”

“What is it?”

“I need to go.”

“Go where?”

“You know, sir, to go, to the bathroom.”

“In 5 minutes.”

“My stomach hurts, sir. I can’t hold it that long.” Karen clinched the cheeks of her ass as tight as she could.

“I know this is painful for you, Karen, but you’ll just have to learn self-control.”

Karen clinched the cheeks of her ass even tighter as her stomach continued to churn. Finally it was over and he let go. He watch in amusement as she shuffled very slowly, not wanting to have an accident, as she made her way to the bathroom.

“Keep the door open and take a shower when you’re finished. And don’t play with yourself in the shower. Remember, I want you squeaky clean when I fuck you.”

Karen did as she was told. It was embarrassing enough having to relieve herself knowing that he could hear her, but at least he didn’t watch.

Karen was careful to was her pussy and the crack of her ass, and she came out of the bathroom, naked and still slightly damp. He immediately pushed her over the back of the chair a third time, and for no reason at all, he used the strap again, 6 more on her legs and another 6 on her ass.

Karen was whimpering by the time he finished.

“Now for your reward – something to remember of your first session.”

Karen though he’d fuck her from the back, doggy style. Instead, he spread the cheeks of her ass with one hand, and started to lube her asshole with the other. It was always so cold, right from the tube. First he teased her, circled the pucker of her asshole, then one finger in. He played with her for a while, one finger in and out, then the second finger.

“Need to get you open, nice and wide.” That was a considerate thought.

Karen heard the zipper and looked back to check out his cock. He was slightly on the short side, just a little more then 6 inches she guessed, but thick. She wasn’t an anal virgin, not our Karen, so she knew he would have to work to get into her. So Karen relaxed and exhaled and pushed against him when he was ready, and it didn’t hurt quite as much as she though it would.

When he was all the way in, Karen could feel his pubic hair against her ass.

“Karen, you’ll have to learn to follow my instructions,” he warned. He proceeded to hand spank her already very red ass for at least five minutes, to make sure she understood what he was telling her. He stayed stiff all the time - kept her asshole tightly plugged. Then he got down to some serious butt fucking. Slow, deep strokes, deep into her bowels. Then almost all the way out. Then slowly back in, filling her, stuffing her . All the while he squeezed the nipple of one tit, as hard as he could with one hand, while played with her clit with the other.

G-d, she liked it like that, his deep strokes, filling her rectum. She was almost there, just about ready to cum, when he picked up the pace. He held her in place, one hand on her hip, the other hand in her thick dark hair, as he stabbed her in the ass with his thick cock, stabbed her with short, hard strokes. All of a sudden he moaned, a long “ahhhh,” as he came in slow spurts. At that moment she felt his hot cum filling her rectum. Karen whimpered as she let herself go, as she felt the explosion of her orgasm.

He kept his cock in her, pumping her, fucking her, as she trembled, as she moaned, as she came and came and came. Finally, he slipped his limp cock from her ass.

“Thank you, sir,” was all she said when it was over.