Good Girl

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The muscles in my calves quivered, stretched to their limits. Cramps began to set in my ankles and toes. Beads of sweat freckled my forehead, pasting my fringe to my damp skin.

I was not sure how long I had been standing on my tiptoes now but it felt like eternity.

“Open your eyes!” he commanded and I obeyed. He sat in his dress shirt and charcoal trousers in the leather chair in the corner of the room, collar button undone, ankle resting on his knee, a glass of scotch in his hand.

“You hurting?” he asked.

I nodded my head furiously, “Yes! Please Sir, may I take a break?” feeling that I might simply have to give in and break his orders in spite of what his answer may be.

He tilted his head, his eyes scanning my face and body, observing the physical and mental effort it was taking for me to remain in position, “Ok.” He raised himself up from his chair and approached me, his hands on my waist to help me place my feet flat on the ground, avoiding the upturned Thumb Tacks he had placed on the ground beneath my raised heels.

“Into position,” he said as he opened the top drawer of the dresser. I flexed my ankles and tried to ease the ache in my calves, then lowered myself to my knees, my forehead on the carpeted floor, arms outstretched in front of my bowed head, buttocks in the air. The stretch felt good after standing on my toes for so long.

I heard him rummage in the drawer and wondered what he had in store for me next.

The unexpected tickle of the soft leather of the flogger over the skin on my back caused a shiver down my spine and goose bumps all over my body.

Naked expect for my collar, I remained motionless as he circled me, tracing the straps over my skin, teasing me.

“Why are you being punished?” he asked.

“I was disobedient Sir. I was bad.”

“Sit up! On your knees.”

I lifted myself up and sat back on my heels, hands resting palm up on my thighs.

“Open your legs.”

I followed his instruction and felt the sweet sudden sting of the flogger between my parted thighs. I squeal.

“The more noise you make the harder I will go, understand?”

I nodded and bit my lip.

“Hands behind your head!” I linked my fingers together at the back of my head, pushing my breasts out, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

The next strike was across my belly, hard and sharp, leaving red lines on my pale skin. I clenched my eyes and jaw shut tight, determined not to make another sound.

“Stand girl.”

As I steadied myself his fingers found and squeezed my nipple, twisting it until it burned, bringing tears to me eyes. The leather slapped against my already tender nipple. I winced; involuntarily, l flinched away from him.

From his pocket he produced the steel clamps and fixed them onto my nipples before lifting the linking chain to my mouth and making me take it between my teeth, raising my breasts up off my chest.

I stood before him, trembling as he laid down the flogger and reached for his metal ruler. The impact was light at first on the underside of my breast and I relaxed and exhaled. Seeing this, he, without warning, slapped the delicate area hard with the ruler; so hard I couldn’t stop myself from crying out. His hand rubbed the reddened patch of skin, soothing it, before bringing the metal down sharply on my other breast, repeating this, switching from one side to the other until my skin burned.

I pinched my lips together and breathed through my nostrils, struggling to maintain my composure.

“Such a stubborn little girl aren’t you?” he grinned at me, making me giggle despite the pain.

Taking the chain from my mouth, he pulled firmly, stretching my nipples more than I thought possible, lead me over to the bed and pushed me face down over the edge.

Tying my wrists together over my head with a stocking I had discarded earlier as I had stripped for him, he forced my legs apart, leant down, his breath warm was against my ear, as he growled, “Stay!”

Heat flared between my legs and I became even wetter than I already was; I love his breath in my ear. The clamps on my nipples bit into me more as my weight pressed them down onto the mattress.

“I don’t think you’ve truly learned you lesson just yet…”

I heard him unbuckle his belt and tensed for impact, smiling against the bed covers.

He teased me with the tip of the belt, flicking it gently over my exposed wet clit, making me tremble in anticipation, before bringing it down on my buttocks with force, back and forth in altering directions.

The sting was glorious. Liberating. Releasing.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to surrender entirely to the pain, feeling myself begin to drift away into heavenly bliss. Trusting him completely to give me what I needed. My hot tears soaked into the duvet as he reigned down my correction without mercy.

I felt him enter me with a swift, fast thrust; his hot, hard erection filling me, splitting me open. I bit down hard onto the bed-spread to stop myself crying out as he pounded into me, the head of his cock persistently rubbed against my g spot, making my stomach flip somersaults and my thighs quake and tremble.

“Come for me! Come now!” his throaty voice betraying his own impending orgasm.

I gave myself over to the surging rush of my climax, feeling it swell and travel through my entire body, my muscles squeezing him tighter, milking him as he exploded inside me.

His weight pressing down on my back as he laid over me, his lips on the back of my neck, whispering, “Good girl, baby.”

I basked in a warm mixture of love, joy, release and belonging.

His.

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14 thoughts on “Good Girl

  1. This is the stuff I love…when it’s hard, brutal, almost mean…and you take it, and you give him what he wants, and at the end, you’re a good girl, and his baby, and it’s all tender. That’s why I do what I do…

    Liked by 1 person

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