Secrets Ch 49

49

"Spanked?" I asked, still climbing the stairs. "No, I haven't."

"Well then, this is going to be extra fun," Craig replied.

His bedroom was large and, like the rest of the house, well decorated in luxurious looking and feeling materials, seemed impeccably styled. It felt very masculine but with that touch of something extra that made it clear that he was confidently and enthusiastically out. There was a low padded bench at the foot of his large bed, and he instructed me to kneel upon it, on all fours.

I obeyed, finding myself feeling on display, in my panties and stockings and garters. I felt the warm presence of the collar around my neck. I could still taste him in my mouth. While I waited there, he strolled into his walk-in closet. I could hear him rummaging about inside it for a few minutes as I started to fear just what I was in for.

When he returned, he was wearing nothing but a pair of tight-fitting black boxer-briefs but, even more distractingly, he was holding both a wooden and leather paddle in his hands.

"Don't worry," he said, no doubt noticing how my eyes had widened. "I'll take it easy on you, at least at first."

"Thank you," I answered, my mouth feeling very dry.

"Now tell me, since you're all dressed up in slutty lingerie in my bedroom," he teased. "Are you a good girl or a naughty girl?"

I didn't know quite what he wanted to hear, so I decided to answer in the way that I felt at that moment.

"A naughty girl?"

"I should say so, since you're in a man's bedroom, dressed like that, showing off your ass for him." He stepped closer and closer as he spoke. "Naughty girls deserve to get a spanking, don't they?"

"I suppose they do," I answered, my breathing tightening.

"If naughty girls deserve a spanking, and you're a naughty girl, do you deserve a spanking?"

I was starting to get the feeling of what he wanted so, even though my heart was pounding, I played my part.

"Yes, Sir. I deserve a spanking, because I'm a naughty girl."

"I know you do," he said, his voice lowering and slowing.

He started by just sliding the leather paddle against my ass. It felt firm, but coated in rich softness. He rubbed it against me, making me feel its smoothness, as well as making me so aware of the sensation of my panties across my ass, and the tightness of the garter belts against my thighs. My eyes fluttered shut.

Without any warning, he drew the paddle back and gave me my first smack. I gasped out loud. It didn't hurt too intensely, as I could tell he'd not swung it too hard or fast, but the sensation radiated and grew. He also didn't stop after that one smack. He kept going, with a steady pace but moving so that the spot the paddle landed moved around, slowly covering what felt like every inch of both my ass cheeks.

It took me a moment to recognize that he paused, when he did, as for a while I was just tensed and ready for the paddle to land again. I started breathing again, realizing that I'd been holding my breath.

"Your ass is starting to get to a nice pink," he said, "but that makes me want to see it more clearly. It's time to take off the panties."

"Yes Sir," I answered with a gasp.

"Don't move," he said. "I'll help you."

I was thankful that I'd put the panties on over the garters. It allowed him to just slide them down my thighs and, with him guiding me to lift my knees, down my legs and off.

"Oh yes, much better," he said. "You're getting a nice rosy colour for sure, and it goes very well with your pretty back tattoo. But oh my my, what is this?"

I moaned out loud as he tapped at the base of my plug with something hard that I couldn't see -- perhaps the handle of the paddle.

"It is a butt plug, Sir," I answered, not sure if he really wanted me to answer.

"And why do you have a plug in your ass, my naughty girl?"

"Mistress commanded me to wear one, Sir."

"All day?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you like being plugged for your Mistress?"

"I... I do, Sir."

"Why is that?"

"It... it makes me feel controlled by her, and the sensation teases me all day, making me constantly aware of it inside me, so that I never forget that she's in charge."

"Even while locked in her collar, locked in that cage, inked and pierced for her, you still like more reminders that you're owned?"

"Yes... yes Sir."

"You really are a naughty, dirty girl."

"Yes Sir. Yes, I'm a naughty and dirty girl, Sir."

"And what do naughty girls deserve?"

"Spankings, Sir."

"That's right," he said, and he started again.

He swung the paddle a little faster now, and it landed just that little bit harder. The break seemed to have given time for the first round to have settled in, so every smack seemed to send an increased level of radiating and throbbing pain through me. My ass was starting to feel like it was on fire. I could feel the head of the redness building up. It was making me tingle and moan. Confusingly, the heat of it, on my flesh and in the room, also seemed to be causing me increasing arousal. I could feel the ache in my cage and, without any panties on, the thin string of precum was oozing from the opening in the rounded nub.

Craig paused again. I thought at first that he was sliding the paddle against my reddened ass again, but I quickly realized he was instead caressing me with his bare hands.

"Your ass is so red and warm now. You're turning a very pretty bright pink. How does that feel?"

"It aches, Sir. It throbs. It burns."

"Oh, I'm sure it does. Can you feel this too?"

As he spoke, he leaned in close, pressing the sizeable bulge in his underwear against my hip.

"I can feel it, yes Sir."

"You truly are a naughty girl, kneeling there like that, your ass bared and pink, taking your spankings like a good girl, turning me on. You like that, don't you?"

"Yes," I panted. "I like to turn you on, Sir."

"You wanted to be up here since lunch, didn't you? You wanted to get into my bedroom. What a naughty girl."

"I did, Sir. I'm a naughty girl."

"I know you are. Only a truly slutty and dirty girl would come up here wearing just sexy lingerie and a plug in her ass. Showing off her tattoos and piercings, in the bedroom of a man she works with. I know what you want."

"I'm a naughty girl," I repeated, my face feeling nearly as red and warm as my throbbing ass.

"Tell me what you really want."

"I want you to fuck me, Sir," I moaned without hesitation.

His touch was electric, as my flesh was so primed and tenderized that even his fingers grazing over me sent intense pulses of sensation all through me. He reached between my ass cheeks and found purchase on the plug's wide base. He pried it out of me, slowly at first, but then more firmly, pulling as my ass stretched open. Before I heard the plug hit the floor, his cock was plunging into me, replacing it.

I moaned aloud, crying out with the intense and overwhelming sensation, feeling his thickness drive deep. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me back each time he pushed forwards. I felt myself squeezing him tight inside as he forced the full length of his thick cock into me. When his body slapped against my ass, the throbbing from my paddling sent fresh waves of erotic pain through me.

There were so many sensations hitting me. His cock inside me felt so good, even as it ached to feel him stretch me wide. My reddened ass throbbed, as did my trapped and leaking cock.

I screamed with fresh pain and surprise as he began spanking me bare-handed, as he railed me harder and faster. My arms felt weak and started to buckle, lowering me to my elbows on the padded bench. This only seemed to offer up my ass more, leading to his audible appreciation.

"That's right, you naughty girl! You fucking slut! Face down and ass up to be fucked!"

He grunted as he fucked me, pounding non-stop. I lost track of time and my thoughts were a blur. I was aware, somehow, of when his rhythm changed, transitioning to that urgency I recognized as him nearing his peak. I could feel the pressure building inside me as well. It was a feeling of both emotional and physical arousal, feeling him pounding on my prostate as well as completely filling me with the awareness that my body and his use of it was pleasing him.

When, at last, I felt him released inside me and I could feel the hot cum spurting from him, it was too much for me to hold back either and I felt my own orgasm release. Warm cum leaked weakly from me, oozing out of my chastity cage. There was some noticeable relief, but my balls still throbbed, held by the securing ring of the cage and bounced around by Craig's enthusiastic use of my body.

"Mmmmm fuck yes," Craig moaned as he finished.

He slowly slid back and out of me, leaving me with that stretched and gaping feeling -- at least until he thoughtfully reached down and roughly slammed the plug pack into my ass, sealing his load inside me.

"Oh fuck, look at that! You came!"

"Yes, Sir," I moaned softly, feeling overwhelming humiliation at that truth.

"Even caged, without me touching you, you came. You really are a naughty little slut."

"Yes I am, Sir," I said softly. "Thank you for fucking me."

"You're quite welcome," he said.

He collapsed onto his bed and could finally see his face again. His lips were curled in a wide, satisfied smile as he tucked himself back into his underwear.

"As funny and flattering it is that you've cum, I don't want you to leave a mess. Why don't you get down and lick it up, you naughty girl."

"Yes, Sir," I said.

I lowered myself off of the bench and knelt on the floor beside it, feeling his eyes on me as I extended my tongue and began to lick up the milky puddles of my mess. The taste of my own cum mixed with the taste, or perhaps my memory of the taste of him, bringing back that sense memory as well. He'd fucked my mouth and my ass. With the high of arousal having evaporated, the reality of it all was sinking in anew. I'd never be able to face him again without feeling this memory. I'd sucked his cock. I'd practically begged him to fuck me. He'd seen me in lingerie, and he knew all about the collar and the tattoos and all the rest of it.

Once I finished with my tongue-cleaning of the bench, I looked up at him meekly.

"This is too good an evening to ruin by even getting out of bed. I trust you can let yourself out?"

"Oh yes, sure. Of course," I answered, stammering.

I felt suddenly very cheap, being dismissed so quickly after sex.

"Good girl," he smiled. "I'm going to enjoy seeing you around the office even more now."

"You too, Sir," I answered without thinking. "Good night."

I picked up my panties from the floor -- an act that made me feel even more like a whore -- and went downstairs to find the rest of my clothes. My work clothes felt so strange and heavy and rough as I put them on over my lingerie once more. I could feel my ass still burning, which made me wonder how long that particular ache would linger. At least tomorrow would be Friday -- a work-from-home day. I wouldn't have to face Craig in the office quite so quickly.

I noticed, arriving home, that Jane's car was not in the driveway. The lights were on inside, however, and when I went inside, there she was relaxing in the living room, playing music and reading a book.

"Look at you," she smiled. "I can tell just by looking at you that you got laid. Take off those silly boy clothes and tell me all about it."

Right there in front of her, I stripped down to my panties and stockings, setting everything aside in a hastily folded pile.

"Ohh, what happened to your ass? It's all red!"

"He wanted to spank me, Mistress," I explained.

"Oh wow, what a fun surprise! Did he use his bare hands?"

"He used a leather paddle at first, Mistress, but he did use his hands later."

"Oh, I want to hear all about it!"

She had me stand there in front of her and recount the whole evening, sharing how he spoke to me and treated me and used me for his pleasure. When I told her about the paddling, she had me turn around so that she could inspect the marks, and even reach out and touch my skin, which still felt warm.

She loved how simply he had sent me home after he was finished.

"I just want to be clear about something. If he put the plug back in right after, and you came right home, does that mean you're still full of his cum?"

"I am, Mistress," I blushed.

"Oh that's so dirty! I love it. He's a keeper, to send you home to me still full of his load," she smiled. "Needless to say, the plug stays in until tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Oh, and after my date tonight, I'd had a couple drinks so I got a ride home. My car is actually quite close to your office, so I thought that I'd just take your car tomorrow and you make your way in another way and take my car home at the end of the day."

I squirmed at how casually she mentioned a date.

"I'm actually scheduled to work from home tomorrow, Mistress. It's a Friday."

"Schedules can change. You don't expect me to leave my car there all weekend, do you? Or expect me to have to make all that effort myself?"

"Of course not, Mistress."

"Good. We understand each other then. I'm sure they'd love to see more of you around the office. We know that Craig would, now that you and he have such a special relationship," she teased. "But, since you questioned me, I think you should take the bus to work tomorrow rather than a cab. I think you should make tomorrow's plug a big one too, so you really feel every bump."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, chastised.

"Can you please get me a glass of wine?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, and hurried off to the kitchen to fetch it.

When I returned with it, she had me kneel at her feet, teasing me again, telling me that I couldn't be trusted on the furniture with an ass full of cum.

"Did you have fun tonight?" she asked. "I don't just mean the obvious parts of the night, but just being with him?"

"I did, Mistress. For a lot of the time it felt relatively close to the friendship that we had started on, but expanded, as he knew more about my secret life. He also told me that he'd thought of me as handsome."

"That's sweet. I'm sure now after him seeing you in panties, that might not be the same word he'd use. You're probably trying for 'pretty' these days. Or is 'fuckable' more along the lines of what you'd like?"

"I'm not sure I can pull off being pretty, Mistress. I feel more teased or humiliated by these outfits, rather than sexy or pretty."

"Oh, seeing you blush while wearing these things is a definite plus, don't get me wrong, but don't sell yourself short. Maybe we just need to help you tone up. Your legs already look great in those stockings, especially after shaving. I think that we can get you doing some squats to tighten that ass up and see what happens if you drop a few pounds."

"Oh, I guess so, Mistress," I said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with her talking so frankly about these kinds of changes.

"It would be fun, actually, to see how completely we could transform you. We'll have to find a time when we have a whole day to really prepare things. Just imagine... Maybe a good corset and some Spanx, a nice full bra, a wig and some makeup. Who knows... you might be prettier than you think."

"Do... do you want that, Mistress? Do you want me to be pretty?"

She paused and looked down at me, softly smiling.

"I'm not sure -- not quite yet. To be honest, knowing that you're never going to be allowed to fuck me again does make me change the way I think about you. It kind of frees me up to entertain more possibilities. We, or I at least, get to decide what our relationship is going to be, without any limits or preconceptions. I thought that it might feel silly, after a couple of days, having you dress this way at home, but the more I see you in your sexy, slutty little outfits, the more I want it. Just now, when I was thinking about your makeover, I realized that I'd much rather take you out as a dress-up sissy than I would be out with you as a man. Seeing you in those clothes feels like a lie now."

Realizing how she was getting attached to this particular kind was shocking and unsettling.

"I do need to still go to work though, Mistress. I couldn't dress like that all the time."

"Oh, I know. And I like that we've got a secret from those people that you work with -- not to mention our other friends and even family. I just wonder if I'll always like that secret more than I like seeing you how I want you to be. In the meantime, I'll just have you dressed and looking the way I want, when I want."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Does it bother you that I don't think I want to see you as a man like that anymore?"

"I guess I'm still trying to understand it, Mistress. I want to please you. I want to serve you. If that includes dressing or looking how you want -- if you see me in a maid's costume or some slutty lingerie and that pleases you, then that is all that I want."

"That's sweet, especially because I think you mean it. I wonder how far that goes though. I mean, there must be limits."

"Yes, Mistress. I'm not sure I can really think of them at the moment, but I know that's right. I don't think I could be okay with real cruelty, or something that came from hatred or a desire to hurt me deeply."

"You don't need to worry about that. I want you to know and feel that I love you, and I know you love me. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't feel bad about us just walking away from each other, but I want you. I love you and I want to have you and own you, even if I don't fully know what that's going to mean."

"I love you too, Mistress. I'm glad you own me."

"Good girl," she said.

Of course I noticed that this was perhaps the first time she'd addressed me in feminine terms, but I didn't have the nerve or the words to address it. I also didn't really understand why it felt so good to hear those words from her lips. It sent a pulse of warmth all through me and, hopefully unnoticed, I squeezed the plug inside me tightly.

Not too long later, as I lay in bed next to her, my mind taking me down winding paths, long after Jane had drifted off into peaceful sleep, I kept hearing those words in my mind, over and over. I was seemingly doing a better job of being a good partner now than I ever had before. She was happy and excited and feeling adventurous. I could tell she liked all the little things too: the clean house, dinners waiting for her, and getting to relax in the evening with someone to tend to her. She was also being sexually satisfied, perhaps for the first time -- certainly since she'd been with me.

When it came to sex, I seemed to be better at pleasing men than I had been at pleasing women. I'd never had a female lover -- my wife or any past girlfriend -- react to my skills with the kind of effusiveness that the men whose cocks I had sucked had used. Was I really a natural, as some of them had said? Was all of this guiding me to some destiny that I had missed out on? It made me think back to how easily my online submission had accepted serving male dominants. I'd developed this theory that dominance, for me, didn't seem to have a gender, but it really had felt more submissive and more powerful to serve a man than it had to serve a woman. There was something about having that service drag me across the threshold of my life-long sexual orientation to the other side.

These confusing thoughts carried me into vivid dreams. The way these sleeping fantasies aroused me had me squirming, thanks to the ache the cage's containment of my physical arousal. When I woke up and saw the dim light twilight illuminating the windows, I accepted that I was up for the day, but I lay still, not wanting to wake Jane. As I thought back on my dreams, trying to hang on to details before they evaporated, I realised that in each one of them I had been pretty and feminine, and I could still feel so clearly how the way that men looking at me and wanting me had made me felt.