In our world, there are many things that are never questioned, because the answers are already there, deep in our minds and in the depths of our hearts. When you know those answers, there is nothing that a committed person won’t do to make sure that their lover is happy. Such is the case in my current relationship. Oh, you don’t wanna hear about all the mushy stuff? You want me to get right to the good parts? Well, if you insist!

When you walk into our house, you see the same things that are in every other house in America. It’s a cute, little abode with quaint furnishings. The same everyday paintings hang on the wall, along with a hall full of family and school portraits. We have a loveseat and a couch like everyone else, and an old TV. Yet, there is a secret that many don’t know about. A secret that many could only dream of, one that releases all bounds of insecurity and allows only instinctual behaviors—one based on lust.
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I am still best friends with one of my sorority sisters from college. Janet married Randy, a wonderful guy who played on our university’s football team. Randy is still a handsome six-foot-two, 180-pound, muscular guy. He has maintained his athletic build after ten years. I married Alex, who is handsome, but not tall as Randy. Alex has a slender body, which some would say is more girly than masculine. Well, that has turned out to be an asset. Why? Because after three years of marriage, I discovered that Alex likes to become Alexis. I caught him wearing my clothes. Alex had thought that when I discovered his passion for feminine fashion, it would be the end of our marriage. But I love the guy. When Alex is Alexis, I love her also. Over the years Alex has exercised and kept up his appearance. Alex makes up into a very sexy woman. At five foot eight, Alexis fills out a size ten dress very nicely. She does her makeup exquisitely. Her hair has grown out and is maintained at a length that is easily styled into a short, sassy feminine look. I have absolutely no hesitation going out with Alexis as girlfriends.
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Last Friday, I’d had that sort of rough day when nothing went the way I planned. I’m a potter, and my hands and the clay did not come together once. When I found that I’d had to scrap everything I’d started, I fell into a bad mood. The only thing that alleviated my stress was the thought of asking Tim for a spanking.

When I’m feeling naughty, I know exactly what to do to get Timothy’s attention. I don’t have to be bratty or pout or give him looks. I simply show up for dinner in my special bad-girl costume. That’s all it takes. Of course, the costume is pretty spectacular. I went on a hunt at our local thrift store one afternoon and came away with a plaid schoolgirl skirt and a white button-up blouse. To add to this look, I always wear white thigh-high stockings and the highest patent leather pumps I can walk in.
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Sometimes I try to get a rise out of Ryan. I don’t know why I do this. He’s the type of dominant lover who will give me what I crave without me ever having to press his buttons. But there are some days when I simply can’t help myself. I behave in a way that’s destined to get me bound facedown to our bed with my ass in the air. Is that topping from below, or do I simply have an inexplicable craving to stir up trouble?

That’s what Ryan asked me last night, after I had played the brat all day long. He’d done his best to be patient. He’d ignored my snotty tone of voice, joked about my belligerent attitude. But when push finally came to shove, he shook his head, gripped me by the wrist, and hauled me up the stairs to our bedroom.

At that point, I had second thoughts. Did I really need to have my bare bottom spanked? Was it absolutely necessary for me to be cuffed so I couldn’t get away? Would worlds collide if a blindfold wasn’t slipped over my eyes? Maybe I could apologize. Perhaps I could make things better by tilting my head in that flirty way and promising him oral pleasures.

Too late.

“What is it with you, Charlene?” he asked as he casually stripped me out of all of my clothes. “Do I not give you everything you need? ”

“No,” I said quickly, “you do, Ryan. You give me all that and more.”

“You’ve got the ‘and more’ part right,” he said, “at least, for tonight.”

I was as meek as a good sub possibly could be, and I didn’t ask what he meant. He was busy, anyway: busy sliding a blindfold over my eyes, busy adjusting my body facedown on the bed, slipping a pillow under my hips, cuffing my wrists and attaching the long chain linking them to the hook over our headboard.

“What got into you today?” he asked. I could feel him staring at me, could imagine the expression on his face. I was entirely nude, and Ryan had his clothes on. He was moving around the room, rummaging through drawers. I could hear his shoes on the hardwood floor. I turned my head to face the sound of his voice, and suddenly his palm caressed my cheek. He was closer than I’d thought. I trembled.

“I asked you a question,” he said, his voice low but suddenly dangerous.

“I don’t know,” I stammered, honestly. “I really don’t.” I wasn’t lying. Like I said, some days I seem to need to kick up a fuss. Maybe I’m trying to see if Ryan will sense what I crave and give it to me without me having to put the desires into words.

“Maybe you don’t,” he said softly, “but I do.” His hand slapped my ass once, and I shivered. He spanked my other cheek, then the first again, creating a heated rhythm using my bare bottom as his drum kit. I bit my lip, wondering if this was all he was going to do tonight. “You like to see how far you can go,” Ryan finally said when my behind was warm all over. “You like to push and push and see if you’ll get a prize. Well, this is the prize you’re getting tonight. I’ve got you bound down, sightless, and I’m not going to tell you what my plans are.”

I opened my mouth to beg him to take pity on me. I like to know what’s going to happen, in order to prepare myself. Before I could speak, Ryan slid his thumb between my parted lips and said, “Suck.”

I obeyed. Yes, I’d been bratty all day, but I was done. I was going to be his good girl now, because I wanted a reward. I sucked his thumb the way I like to suck his cock, and he groaned and said, “That’s right. Show me what an obedient little slut you can be.”

He pulled his hand away after a moment, and I thought maybe he was going to whip out his dick for me. I heard the sound of the buckle of his belt, and then I heard the whisper of the leather being pulled free. I tightened my muscles all over. Sucking him would have been a treat for me. And he was all about doling out the punishment.

The belt snapped in the air, and then landed across both of my cheeks. I groaned and arched my back. Yes, the stripe of pain stung, but that sort of pain takes me to a different level. If my hands hadn’t been cuffed, I would have tried to touch my clit. The brief spanking had already made my pussy wet. Now I was practically gushing. I love when Ryan lets me play with myself while he punishes me, lets me accept the rain of blows while my hand is on my clit. I last so much longer that way, and I always get off.

Not tonight. My wrists were contained by his regulation steel cuffs, and my ass was raised by that pillow under my hips. Ryan let the belt kiss me softly several times before landing another series of stinging blows. I moaned and bucked on the bed. I wanted him to fuck me. I was wet enough. He seemed to sense this, because he slid two fingers between my pussy lips, and then he laughed and said, “You’re so easy to read. You pout and whine all day, as if you’re the Queen of Sheba. But what you really are is a naughty girl who needs to be punished.” He brought his fingers to my lips and spread my juices on them, as if applying gloss. I licked my lips clean and then waited for what was going to happen next. Ryan was in a mood. But I was the one who’d put him there.

I wondered if he’d pick up the belt again, or return to using his palm, or . . . suddenly, I felt something new, something cool. He was pressing something against my naked skin, as if playing a deviant little guessing game. I knew right away what tool it was. One of Ryan’s favorites: a crop.

Had I been that bad? Had I? I tried to recall the day’s events. I’d mouthed off from the moment he opened his eyes, and didn’t stop until after we’d had dessert. Yeah, I guess I had this coming to me. Ryan didn’t say a word. He lifted the crop and struck. I didn’t cry out, but I mashed my face into the mattress and moaned. He landed a second blow. I felt the juices from my pussy coating my inner thighs. The third time the crop landed, I actually thought I might come without any additional stimulation. I wondered if my man could tell, because Ryan dropped the tool and climbed onto the bed. He still had his jeans on, but I could feel that they were open now. He parted my thighs and thrust his cock in hard from the start.

“That was your foreplay,” he hissed as he fucked me. I rattled the handcuff chain, feeling the heat in my poor punished ass seem to spread to the very tips of my fingers, the soles of my feet. Ryan fucked me with abandon, holding my waist and grinding his body against mine. He gave me the perfect friction, his balls against the split of my body, and I started to come, even without permission. I couldn’t stop myself. But Ryan didn’t seem to mind. “You come for me, baby,” he whispered as he reached his own climax. “You come for me, so I can shoot inside you, and then resume your punishment.”

Those words extended my climax. What was he going to do next? I couldn’t wait to find out. Ryan shuddered as he filled me, then pulled out and removed my blindfold.

I saw that he’d lined up all his favorite toys next to me on the bed: a paddle, a row of anal beads, nipple clamps.

“It’s going to be a long, hard night for you,” Ryan said softly.

I had to turn my head away so he couldn’t see the smile on my face. Sometimes being a bad girl gets you not only what you deserve, but also what you want.

Ms. Charlene D., Wichita, Kansas

Last weekend when I showed up for our date, Mistress Christina told me that I needed to be punished. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, but it didn’t matter. From the way my mistress was looking at me, with her eyes sparkling and her lips twitched up in a sexy smirk, I knew she had something wickedly good in mind.

She had recently put eyehooks in the bedroom ceiling, and after having me undress, she bound my wrists with her favorite coconut rope. After that, she stretched my arms over my head and attached the rope to a carabiner that hung from the ceiling. This position forced me to stand up straight without pulling me too much, and for a second I was distracted by the thought that it was probably really good for my back. Then I felt Mistress Christina wrapping more rope around my arms, binding them together. All thoughts of chiropractic health went out the window I was too distracted by the delicious feel of the rope against my skin.

I was hoping she would mummify my entire body with her rope, but she stopped when she reached my elbows. After tying a final knot, she put the rope away and took a leather paddle from the box of toys she keeps at the foot of her bed.

The only thing I enjoy more than being tied up by Mistress Christina is being spanked by her. I love the impact of her hand or paddle against my ass and when my butt starts to feel warm from her ministrations. It’s one of my biggest turn ons, so I was thrilled that she was breaking out the leather paddle. If she hadn’t specifically said I was being punished, I would think she was rewarding me.

She walked around in front of me and showed me the well worn implement. She ran the paddle up and down my body, taunting me rather than striking me with it. She likes to tease me like that. After she was sure I understood what was about to happen, she moved behind me again and got to work.

My mistress started by smacking my ass with her bare hand, alternating between my right and left cheeks. She then added her other hand and was able to provide a much more forceful spanking. She paused once to make me spread my legs a bit and jut my ass out more, but as soon as I was in the position she wanted, she went right back to work, her palms rhythmically smacking my ass until I felt my flesh start to heat up.

My dick was rock hard by the time Mistress Christina stopped slapping my butt. She stood up and circled my body, taking in the sight of my full erection. “Are you about to come?” she asked, not sounding pleased. I shook my head. “You’d better not come until I tell you,” she demanded.

“Yes, Mistress,” I replied, knowing she wasn’t joking.

“Good boy,” she said as she took my dick in her hand and applied a viselike grip to the base. She was serious about making sure I didn’t climax before I was supposed to.

When she moved behind me again, she rubbed my ass softly a few times, preparing me for the next round. I felt ready to take whatever my mistress was willing to give me.

Next she picked up the paddle, and I felt the breeze against my skin as she took a few warm up swings. She doesn’t need to she can eye the exact spot she wants to strike and she never misses but she likes to tease me as much as possible, and my heart always races as I wonder when she’ll actually connect with my ass. On her third swing, the paddle landed right in the middle of my butt, and I moaned as the leather met my skin. I felt an exciting sting, and I shook my butt as I waited for the next strike.

Mistress Christina spanked my ass more than a dozen times, and each time the paddle struck, I moaned quietly and squirmed, trying to get her to hit me harder. I knew doing that would be a sign to my mistress that I was enjoying my punishment, which wouldn’t please her at all, but I also knew it wouldn’t keep her from doing what I wanted, which was for her to spank me with more force.

She swatted my ass with the leather paddle until my flesh felt hot, and then she stopped and let me cool down for a while before starting all over again. By the time she was done, I was having a hard time controlling myself, and I was worried that I was going to spurt before my mistress gave me permission.

After a sufficient spanking, Mistress Christina unhooked me from the ceiling and guided me over to the bed. She was still wearing the jeans and shirt she’d had on when I arrived for our date, but as soon as I was lying on the bed, my hands hooked to the headboard, she stripped off her pants. With her thong still on, she climbed on the bed and straddled my face. She demanded that I lick her pussy without my hands available to pull her panties aside.

I dove right in, pulling at her thong with my teeth and sliding my tongue behind the black lace to get to her pussy. It wasn’t easy, but once I got her panty crotch out of the way, I had no trouble getting to her wet cunt. I alternated between laving her clit with my tongue and lapping up the juices clinging to her lips.

My mistress mewled softly, letting me know that I was doing a good job, but it was her climax, her juices running into my mouth, that was the real signal. Mistress Christina doesn’t climax easily, but she came fast that night, no doubt having gotten aroused from punishing me.

Afterward, she finally allowed me to come, and she even stroked my dick until I exploded since I couldn’t do it myself. My ass was still tingling from the spanking she’d delivered, and it made my orgasm that much more intense. I couldn’t believe my mistress was allowing me so much pleasure when she was supposed to be disciplining me, but I wasn’t about to question her methods. She was the boss, after all.

Eventually, Mistress Christina untied me and we went out on our date, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the spanking she’d given me earlier in the evening. I don’t like to make my mistress unhappy, but I do love when she punishes me!

Mr. Zachary B., Seattle, Washington

While my boyfriend commutes to work every day, I toil at home. I run my own business from my home office, which is on the second floor of our rented house. My office window happens to overlook our neighbor’s patio. I usually hear nothing from next door during the day. However, several weeks ago I heard the clicking of high heels on the concrete driveway. My first thought was that my neighbor, Todd, had a female friend over at his house, and being a little nosy, I thought I’d take a peek.

I went over to the window and looked outside. I saw a cute blonde dressed in an adorable French maid outfit. I was careful to keep my presence a secret because I didn’t want to interrupt the romantic play that I figured Todd and this woman were having. But then something happened that threw me for a loop: The woman’s cell phone rang, but when she answered the call, I heard Todd’s voice! My God, I thought, Todd is a cross dresser!

I stood by the window, listening and watching, and I finally went downstairs and opened the sliding door, which led out to the backyard. I quietly kicked off my shoes and snuck closer to the fence. I peered through, and, yep, there was Todd in full makeup, a blonde wig, and that sweet French maid uniform. I climbed up onto a lounge chair near the fence, looked over and startled the hell out of him. He realized right away that I’d discovered his secret, so he didn’t run. He knew it was too late for that. He stuttered and stammered, telling me that he liked to dress up while he cleaned his house, adding that he thought I’d gone for the day because he saw my car pull out of the driveway that morning. What he didn’t realize is that my boyfriend’s car was in the shop, so he’d borrowed mine.

Todd stood there staring at me, his beautiful face blushing. I took it upon myself to make the next move, and came around the fence to pay him a more personal visit. Once I was there, I made him strut around the yard. Those four inch heels made a sexy click clacking sound, and when he twirled, his white petticoats flared out. I loved the way he looked. To be honest, it kind of turned me on.

Todd looked worried and begged me not to tell a soul. With a twinkle in my eye, I told him I wouldn’t but that it would cost him.

Since Todd worked the twilight shift, from four o’clock to midnight, I knew he had the daytime free. I suggested that he could be my maid, because I hated keeping house while trying to operate my business. That suggestion must have hit a submissive nerve in him because he jumped at the chance. I took him by the hand and pulled him over to my house. I instructed him to get busy washing the dishes. Since it was Friday, I told him I would make up a list of his weekly chores, and that on Monday I expected my maid to appear promptly at nine in the morning.

On Monday morning, Todd was on my doorstep in his freshly laundered and ironed French maid uniform, including stiff, white petticoats and a white lace cap perched atop his blonde wig. I showed Todd his work schedule. Every morning, he was to wash the dishes from the night before, wash the breakfast dishes, prepare my lunch, and clean up afterward. On Monday, he had to change the linens on the bed. Tuesday he had to do the laundry and ironing, as well as vacuum. Wednesday and Thursday were for odd jobs, like dusting and cleaning out the refrigerator. Each afternoon before my boyfriend came home, Todd had to water the plants in the garden. If there were no other chores to do, I’d put him to work performing secretarial duties in my office.

I soon found that with Todd’s help, I was able to generate more revenue. I decided to reward Todd with gifts of new dresses smart looking professional outfits that added to the atmosphere of a real office. After doing his housework in the morning, Todd would change from his uniform and become my pretty secretary. He looks beautiful in a dress, hosiery and heels. We started taking breaks away from the house, having lunch at local restaurants and shopping together at the mall. Todd and I became close friends.

Usually by nine o’clock I am dressed and waiting for Todd’s knock on the door. One recent Monday, my boyfriend and I were running late, so I hadn’t had time to change out of my negligee by the time Todd arrived. I let him in, apologizing for not being dressed properly and said that I hoped he wasn’t embarrassed to see me wearing my tiny baby doll. I could tell from the lustful look in his eyes, however, that he didn’t mind at all. I don’t know why, but at that moment I blurted out that my boyfriend always fucks me before he leaves for work in the morning and leaves my pussy oozing come. I told him I usually take a shower before his arrival, but I hadn’t yet had the chance.

I started to leave the room, but impulsively I turned back toward him. I suggested that maybe his first chore of the morning should be to clean out my pussy with his tongue. I grabbed him by his choker, led him to an armchair, pushed him down to his knees, and sat myself in front of him. I draped my legs over the arms of the chair and told him to get going. He immediately slurped up the come that had dribbled down my thigh and then got to work cleaning my pussy.

Todd’s tongue was a gift. My boyfriend would never go down on me after sex, but my little maid ate my creamy pussy without hesitation. Whenever he stopped to take a breath, I nudged his head back down and told him I would tell him when I was satisfied. He continued lapping at my cunt for more than forty five minutes, which made me wetter and wetter. After I had multiple orgasms and was sated, I pushed him away and told him to prepare my breakfast while I showered and dressed.

Cleaning my pussy has become Todd’s first chore of the morning. Within seconds of his arrival, he heads straight for the chair and kneels before it, waiting for me to sit down. On one of those occasions just last week, I looked at him with a smirk on my face and told him I had a surprise. That morning my boyfriend had loaded up my ass with come, so I knelt on the chair and presented my dripping hole to Todd. I enjoyed having his tongue licking me back there, and I rubbed my clit until I came while his tongue probed my backdoor. Having Todd clean my ass made him truly submissive to me. I adore him, and he will always be my special maid.

Ms. Isabella K., Trenton, New Jersey

Glancing at my watch, I noted that it was time for the club to open. However, I was unconcerned about arriving on time. I was more interested in making an entrance, and my cock stiffened at the thought of what kinky fun awaited me that night.

Not that everyone would see me, since most of the submissives would know better than to look. The ones who did, well, I couldn’t be bothered with them. I was in the market for a new slave because Jenny, who had served me until recently, had been transferred out of town for her job. I was hoping to find a girl who was already well trained, because I didn’t have time to waste. Fortunately, a mistress I knew named Ms. Margaret said she had just the girl for me. She was bringing her to the party that night, and I was excited to meet her, although I never would have admitted it.

My cell phone rang, alerting me that the town car I’d hired was waiting outside. Quickly, I threw on leather pants, motorcycle boots and a tight black t shirt. An hour had now passed since the first revelers would have arrived, so I knew I’d timed my entrance perfectly.

A half hour later, my driver dropped me off at the club’s front door and pulled around the corner to wait. I went inside, taking note of the “closed for private party” sign and the purple curtain blocking the view of inside from passersby. As I parted the heavy velvet barrier and entered the club, I was inundated by the throbbing bass of techno music and the heat coming off a roomful of dancing, writhing bodies. Even with all that activity, people still stopped what they were doing to turn their attention to me.

I nodded at some dommes I knew, and they each acknowledged my greeting and quickly returned to their business. One was spanking a young man who was wearing nothing but black gym shorts that were pulled down below his asscheeks and a leather collar with a leash hanging from it, and I could see by the bulge in the front of his tiny garment how pleased he was by his current state. Another mistress, Sheri, was lounging in a chair and sipping a martini a sight that wouldn’t be worth mentioning except for the fact that her footstool was a nearly naked submissive. He was so excited to be in that position that his entire body was quivering, so Sheri reached down to give him a swat as a reminder to keep still so her drink didn’t spill.

My attention was soon drawn to the corner of the room, where there stood a St. Andrew’s cross. It was fashioned from four pieces of wood: two were crossed in the classic X shape, and two more braced them at the top and bottom. A number of metal hooks were screwed into the planks so that naughty slaves could be bound to it in a variety of positions. Currently, a young blonde woman was fettered in a spread eagle pose, her arms high in the air and her legs spread wide, with straps at her wrists and ankles. She wasn’t facing the cross with her back and buttocks exposed for whipping instead, her back was to it so that she faced the room.

She was definitely a sight to behold, wearing nothing but lacy undergarments, thigh high stockings and a bra with cups that were pulled beneath her breasts. Next to her stood a man I didn’t know, and he grinned proudly as he ran the tip of a riding crop across her heaving chest. Her body quaked each time the stiff leather keeper trailed over her rigid nipples, and her panties were visibly damp, belying her arousal. Intrigued, I moved closer, and when her master noticed me, he invited me to join in their scene.

I couldn’t resist, especially since it looked like Ms. Margaret and her charge hadn’t arrived yet. He offered me his crop, but I declined it so that he could continue doing his thing while I did mine. I glanced toward her pussy and he nodded, giving me the go ahead to do with her as I wished. Meanwhile, the young slave’s body had gone tense in expectation of this new wrinkle. And although no one had spoken, I could tell from her expression that she was okay with whatever we were about to do. I also assumed that she had a safeword, which she would use if things got too intense. However, I wasn’t planning on testing her I was just looking for some light play to occupy myself until Margaret arrived. I started by moving closer and running my fingertips along the front of the girl’s juice soaked panties. She quivered, so I did it again, and this time I heard her breath catch. I looked up and saw that her master had resumed running the crop across her tits, and the double onslaught on her pussy and her nipples quickly had her trembling.

I glanced at her face, and it was clear that she was struggling to hold back a moan. Wanting to see how she comported herself if pushed to the point of no return, I slid my fingers under her thong and began stroking her moist flesh directly. She tensed and then writhed against me, so I parted her labia and began flicking at her engorged clit. Then, when I pressed down on her throbbing button, I heard the unmistakable sound of a gasp that had escaped too quickly.

Just as quickly, I pulled my fingers away to leave her teetering on the brink of orgasm. For the next minute or so, I teased her by lightly stroking her puffy outer lips. When she’d relaxed, I once again zeroed in on her clit. This time, she jerked against her tethers, which shook the wooden structure to which she was bound, and her master swatted one breast with the crop, reminding her to maintain her composure.

Seeing the red mark the leather left on her flesh sent a rush of excitement to my groin. My cock stiffened, and images of pulling it out and fucking the nubile woman flooded my mind. However, I knew that would be out of bounds. I considered suggesting that we find someplace private to continue our scene, but it looked like he had no intention of taking her down off the cross any time soon, leaving me to wonder what she’d done to get herself in that position.

With an erection throbbing in my pants, I resumed my taunting game of stroking her slippery flesh and rigid button only to pull away whenever I thought she was nearing climax. Her honey poured into my hand, so periodically I would stiffen a finger, slide it into her and fuck her with it for a few seconds. I felt her muscles clenching around me as she struggled to ignore the demands of her own pussy, and yet she managed to hang in there, awaiting her master’s permission. But he was still attending to her nipples, seemingly unconcerned with her needs, and she soon looked so desperate that I almost felt sorry for her.

I was wondering how long the girl could hold out when the man put down his crop and said, “I’ll take it from here.” In deference to his ownership, I pulled my fingers from her cunt, took a few steps back and watched as he crouched beside her. He pulled aside the crotch of her panties as he reached around her, took hold of an asscheek and pressed his face against her pussy. Then, from the sucking sounds that followed, I knew he was giving her a good tongue lashing.

She responded immediately, and I couldn’t avert my eyes as her body was wracked by tremors of ecstasy. Now the cross really shook, and I worried it might topple, but it and she remained standing as her master pleasured her.

Although she was cuffed, she wasn’t completely immobile her breasts heaved, and her head whipped back and forth, and the only thing keeping her upright were her bindings. When she finally came, her body stiffened for a moment before going limp. I was extremely impressed. Somehow, without the aid of a ball gag, she’d managed to maintain her silence. I have to admit I felt a moment of jealousy at this other master’s possession of such a well trained slave even as he unfastened the straps at her wrists and ankles and then helped her down from the cross, she kept her eyes trained on the floor. Finally, he acknowledged me with one last nod before leading her toward the back of the club, where I guessed they were going to find a private room where she could more thoroughly return his orgasmic favors.

As I watched them walk away, I contemplated seeing if they were up for a threesome my dick was still hard, and I would have loved for the girl to suck it dry. Instead, I chose to see what else was going on at the party. I scanned the room, and the first thing that caught my attention was a nearby shibari demonstration. That seemed worth further investigation, so I watched as a Rubenesque woman had her ample breasts bound with lengths of rope. The cords, which were wound around her in an intricate pattern, were then used to bind her arms to her sides. Finally, more rope was crisscrossed between her legs to press against her pussy, which caused her to tip back her head and release a moan.

A photographer was taking pictures, which I hoped would end up on the club’s web site. In the meantime, I continued to drink in the scene as it unfolded. Once the woman was completely bound, various partygoers, some of whom were satisfied with merely admiring the elaborate knotwork, approached her. Others, however, accepted her master’s invitation and took advantage of her bondage to stroke her exposed flesh.

My appreciation of this submissive beauty was interrupted by the sound of a woman clearing her throat. I turned, and Ms. Margaret purred, “Quite a sight, isn’t she?” I agreed as I checked out the ravishing dominatrice, who was quite a sight herself. She was wearing a latex catsuit, and the shiny black and crimson material clung to her statuesque frame. Black boots were laced up over her calves, and I was certain she’d be shooing away more than a few foot and shoe fetishists who’d be begging her for a lick.

Margaret wasn’t alone. She held the ends of two leashes in her left hand, and each led to a collar that was secured around the neck of a slave, one female and the other male. I guessed that one of them was to be mine, most likely the girl, but since they were both really attractive, I considered asking for the boy for a change of pace. Then I saw how his mistress looked at him, like one would look at a favorite pet, and I reconsidered.

I set my sights on the girl, who also cut a boyish figure with her small, firm breasts, slender hips and short black hair slicked back from her forehead. Her PVC bra and miniskirt displayed a lithe, athletic frame, and I could already imagine the feel of her muscles rippling under my fingers. Her face was sweet, and though I couldn’t have told you the color of her eyes, I could see that they were framed by long, dark lashes which fluttered when her mistress addressed her.

“David will be your master for tonight,” Margaret said as she handed me the slave’s leash. “And maybe, if you please him, you will be his permanently.” The girl, whose name was Beth, said nothing as I took hold of her lead, and though I knew that this explanation was part of the scene that we were playing, I was pleased by her easy compliance.

I’d suddenly had enough of the party and was more interested in taking Beth home to try her out. So I took my leave of Ms. Margaret, who wished me luck before sending her boy toy to the bar to fetch her a drink. Then I led my new charge through the throngs of bodies, which were now more naked and sweaty than they had been when I’d arrived. I have to admit that it was difficult to walk away from that scene, but I had more important matters to handle, such as a raging hard on that was going to require serious attention before long.

I called for my town car, and it pulled up in front of the club in minutes. I held the door open for Beth, and she climbed in we both knew that was the last thing I would be doing for her that night. From then on, she would be seeing to my needs, not the other way around. As we drove to my place, I asked her a few questions about herself, her preferred type of play and her hard limits, which she answered in as few words as possible, letting me know that she enjoyed service work both mundane chores and being of sexual service to her master. That last comment made my dick twitch, and when I told her how beautiful I found her, she blushed prettily and chanced a look at me with lust filled eyes. So far, it looked like she would work out, but I knew that the real test wouldn’t come until I got her into my bed.

We arrived at my place and entered the foyer, where I detached the leash from her collar and set it aside. I didn’t think we would need it any more that night, but it could double as a whip, so I wanted to keep it handy. I hoped that I wouldn’t need to use it, though the thought of striping Beth’s pale skin red was awfully tempting.

My fingers twitched as I walked away from the strop and instead gave her a quick tour of the house, which ended in the master bedroom. From there we went into the bathroom, where I told Beth to draw me a bath. She did so without question, following my instructions to the letter. When it was ready and I began to strip, she murmured, “May I, master?” and took over when I told her she could. She started by pulling my t shirt off over my head, and then she reached for my belt buckle, but hesitated. When she looked up at me through those long, dark lashes, I nodded my assent, and she continued. It excited me to see her fingers trembling as she pulled the leather through the silver loop.

Next she popped open my fly before tugging the waistband of my pants down over my hips. My hard cock sprang up, and Beth looked at me again, waiting to be told what to do. I had more than a few ideas, but first I wanted to clean up I smelled like smoke from the club, and the odor of the slave on the St. Andrew’s cross still lingered on my fingers.

I got in the tub and handed Beth a washcloth, which she used to rinse me off after lathering my body with soap. Leaning back in the warm water, I luxuriated in her touch, which gradually grew more confident. But then she got too bold and wrapped her cloth covered hand around my dick. I grabbed her wrist, stopping her as I voiced my displeasure.

“Not until I say so!” I barked, and her eyes dropped, as did her hand when I let go of it. I considered punishing her, but my cock, which was now so hard that it ached, had other opinions about what I should do with her. It was time to get out of the bath. I stood up, and she handed me a towel without being asked, earning back a few points in her favor.

We went to the bedroom, where I sat on the edge of my king size mattress and commanded Beth to kneel before me. She did, but not close enough, so I spread my legs and told her to crawl forward. When she was between my thighs, I looked down and watched the rise and fall of her breasts for a moment, and it seemed like the rate of her breathing was increasing at the thought of sexually serving me. Eventually, I reached for her head, and she opened her mouth as I urged her toward me.

“Suck me,” I demanded, and I drew in a deep breath as her lips touched my crown. Then she wrapped them around it, and the feeling of her moist tongue on my flesh was so heavenly that I couldn’t repress a low moan. Encouraged, she inched down my shaft, shifting her body when necessary to accommodate me deep in her throat. Finally, she raised her head to drag her lips back up my length, and my cock twitched from the intense massage that it was receiving.

Suddenly I knew that a blowjob wasn’t going to be enough. I had to have her and right away. I yanked myself from her mouth, and she looked up at me with big eyes, fearful that she’d displeased me. However, it was just the opposite, so I joined her on the floor and repositioned her on all fours.

She obeyed without question, never uttering a word as I moved behind her and yanked up her miniscule skirt. As I’d predicted, she wasn’t wearing any panties, which gave me easy access to her cunt, so I lined up my knob with her moist pink center and began pressing it inside. Beth’s entryway opened easily to my invasion, and the way her skin stretched around my prick elicited another moan from deep in my throat. She responded by starting to turn around to take a look, but then stopped herself just in time and instead raised her ass higher in invitation.

When my balls were pressed against her ass, I grabbed her hips and pulled my prick back out until only the head was lodged in her cunt. Then I thrust right back into her with as much force as I could muster, which made a smacking sound when our bodies crashed together. I did it again and heard Beth moan excitedly, so I landed a sharp slap on one creamy white buttock to remind her that a slave doesn’t come without permission. She tightened her fists and bore down against the carpet as I recommenced fucking her tight little pussy like my life depended on it.

From the juices coating my plunging dick, I could tell she enjoyed this as much as I did. She stayed still, accepting my thrusts as I drove us closer to the brink, without giving her permission for release. I did this to test her endurance and obedience as much as to increase my own pleasure, and she managed to hang in there, even when my shaft started pulsing. My balls opened a split second later, and I tipped back my head and roared as my cock spurted into her.

Beth was quaking, so I knew she was having a hard time holding on. I told her to look at me, and I saw that her cheeks were flushed. Her hair now hung down over her face with a few strands pasted by sweat to her temples. Since my cock was still hard, I decided I might as well prolong my orgasm by letting her sex milk me dry.

Reaching between her quivering thighs, I slid a finger between her labia and whispered, “Come for me.” I pressed down on her clitoris with the tips of two fingers, and her legs snapped shut around my hand. Although she didn’t make a sound, I knew that she was coming because fresh juices seeped from her pussy as her inner muscles spasmed sharply. Eventually, her entire body started shaking, so I snaked my other arm around her to hold her close as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

When we were once again breathing normally, I relaxed my hold and slid my softening dick from Beth’s cunt. “Mmm,” she moaned in a dreamy, happy voice. I reached over and pinched one of her nipples, which turned her slow moan into a gasp of arousal, which was followed by a lazy smile. She didn’t need to say anything more for me to know that she’d enjoyed herself. I leaned down and kissed her deeply, my tongue plunging into her mouth, but I backed away when she tried to kiss me in return. When she didn’t reach for me, realizing that I was still in control, I was more than satisfied that she was the type of girl I’d been longing for.

I got up and put on pajama bottoms but required that she sleep naked, so she would be readily available if I woke up and wanted her again. Then I climbed into bed with my new charge curled up beside me, and I drifted off to sleep, satisfied that I had found the perfect slave.

I’m not a forgetful person when I’m on the job I can’t afford to be, since I run a high end shop that caters to wealthy clients looking for the perfect gift. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be out of business if I mixed up orders or sent the wrong items. But while work’s been fine, I’ve been letting things slip in my personal life. My first guess as to why that was the case was that I’m so preoccupied with the details of my job that minor chores, like picking up the dry cleaning, didn’t seem as important to me. But I eventually realized that my “accidental” actions might be connected to my subliminal hunger for kink. After I thought about it, I decided that my screwups must’ve come about because of my subconscious desire to be punished.

My husband and I try to divvy up household duties as best we can, and I know Wes’s job as a lawyer keeps him busy, too, so he relies on me to do my share. He’d been patient with my recent spate of forgetfulness, but I could tell that I was pushing my luck.

The situation came to a head the other day when I forgot to book our vacation cruise in time to take advantage of a special discount. Despite having a reminder pop up on my phone and another land in my inbox, the day went by without me booking the trip. I kept meaning to do it, but more important stuff kept coming up. Later that night, when Wes asked me if I’d taken care of the arrangements, the look on my face told him everything.

On the outside, Wes and I don’t look like kinky people but we are. I love getting spanked and serving my husband, and he loves being the boss, telling me what to do, and most of all, taking me over his knee. For us, it’s not only incredibly hot, but a way to de stress and let off steam. Our workday cares fade into the background as his hand or his belt connects with my ass. I can’t explain why, but I find our scenes to be a dirty form of relaxation and recreation, and while it’s not a necessity, adding a bit of role playing or an element of “punishment” adds to the occasion for me.

We’d both been so busy lately that it had been weeks since we’d enjoyed a kinky scene. I guess that I’d been itching to be punished, so without realizing it, I created an opportunity for myself. I knew how important this trip was to Wes and how much he wanted to save the extra cash. Not booking this trip was the perfect way to push his buttons.

In response to his annoyance and disbelief, all I said was, “I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for what I did. I was very bad.” My words, along with my subdued tone, let him know that I was entering submissive mode. Seeing my downcast eyes and hearing my voice was like flicking a switch for him. He fell into character right away.

“You’re right you’ve been very bad, Trudy. A grown woman like yourself needs to be held accountable. You’ve been irresponsible and deserve to be punished.” I nodded. “I want you to call tomorrow and make the arrangements for our cruise, so I’m going to help you remember. Get undressed and bend over the bed. I’m going to give you twenty with my belt. After each lash, I want you to say, ‘I won’t forget the reservations.’ You’re going to be reminded every time you sit tomorrow.”

I stripped as ordered, but before he began to whip me, he made me kiss the tip of his belt. That act always makes my pussy drip with wetness the smell of the leather, the acknowledgement that it will soon slice through the air and strike my bare ass. Wes likes the sound the belt makes, and he cracked it the air before hitting my right asscheek. I muffled my groan as I remembered his instructions. “I won’t forget the reservations,” I said as quickly as I could. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than the next lash landed upon my left asscheek, and I repeated the words again.

I focused on breathing deeply, because even though I enjoy being punished by his hand, belt or any other implement it does hurt, and breathing helps me process the sensations. Even though the belt’s impact was harsh, my cunt responded to each lash, growing wetter with every stroke. We settled into a steady rhythm, but the second Wes felt I was comfortable, he struck the tops of my thighs, making me squeal. He knows I’m extra sensitive there. It’s a fine line to walk, but he does it expertly, bringing me just the right amount of pleasure/pain. “Very good, Trudy,” he said after lash eight, as he ran his fingers along my hot skin, tracing the marks he was leaving on my flesh. I didn’t have to see them to know they were there.

Then it was time for my final twelve lashes, and he made them count. At one point I clenched my butt cheeks tightly, steeling myself for the blow. “Come on now, Trudy, you know I’m not going to hit you if you do that.” That was his ingenious way of getting me to relax I wanted the spanking more than I didn’t want it. I always do. So I took another deep breath and prepared myself for the pleasure as well as the pain. When it came, it was intense, but wonderful, too, and my pussy was getting slicker and slicker. When the final blow landed, the warmth from my ass had extended throughout my lower half, making me tingle all over.

“My bad, bad girl,” he sighed, and then leaned down to kiss each asscheek.

Wes got on the bed and unzipped his jeans to free his cock, before motioning me to climb aboard. I sat down on his erection, my dripping pussy enveloping him in one smooth motion. He grabbed my sore ass and gripped it extra hard as he controlled the movement of my cunt up and down his shaft. “Your pussy is making my cock shiny with your juices,” he said. “Now touch yourself, Trudy, touch that sweet clit for me.”

I looked where he was looking at his cock sliding in and out of me and stroked my clit. It wasn’t long before the overwhelming sensation of my orgasm washed over me, and I trembled as I came, my cunt tightening around his shaft. He tapped my ass lightly, and I tumbled forward, hugging and kissing him as he rammed his dick upward and came with a loud groan. I felt the hot splash of his cream inside me and smiled as I buried my face in his neck.

“You look so beautiful,” he said as he pulled me off him and turned me over onto my side so he could admire my ass. For the first time in weeks, I felt completely satisfied.

When he went to take a shower, I picked up the phone and called the travel agency. It was a few hours past the official cutoff for the discount, but I was hoping maybe they’d cut me a break. As it turned out, they had a cancellation and were more than willing to book us on the exact cruise we’d wanted with the lower price. I was thrilled. Not only had we gotten the deal, I’d received a sexy punishment as a bonus!

I told Wes the happy news when he emerged from the bathroom, wearing just a towel. “That’s wonderful, Trudy. I hope you don’t think that your spanking was in vain, though.”

“Not at all. In fact, I might need another one tomorrow. I’ll have to see what I can do to warrant it.”

He grinned at me, then dropped the towel and slid into bed, once again hard and ready.

Ms. Trudy L., Baltimore, Maryland

Every Tuesday at 7 p.m., I meet my mistress for a session. I go to her dungeon straight from work, which helps ensure that I’m always dressed appropriately. It also allows me to get to the dungeon at least a few minutes early every week, since I only work till five. The drive to Miss Elaine’s “office” takes only half an hour, leaving me plenty of time to have a quick bite to eat and still be early for my appointment. Usually, anyway.

Last week, I had a meeting with some new clients that ran extremely late, and by the time I left the office, it was already quarter to seven. I didn’t stop on the way to Miss Elaine’s, and I raced all the way there, but I was still ten minutes late. I knew my mistress wouldn’t be happy, and I prepared myself for a scolding as I rang the bell and waited.

It took my mistress longer than usual to come to the door, and I assumed it was part of my punishment, having to wait for her like she’d waited for me. I kept my hands clasped behind my back and my head bowed the entire time I waited, and after a minute or two, she finally came to get me. She didn’t greet me when she opened the door, only gestured me inside and then stomped across the floor to the room we’d be using for our session as I followed quickly behind her.

Miss Elaine took me into the bedroom, the most normal room in her dungeon setup, and had me sit on the bed. She told me that since I was late, I’d have to deal with the vanilla setting in addition to a whipping, which is my usual punishment if I’ve misbehaved. I love the hardcore dungeon room, and I always get off best when we work in there, so having Miss Elaine put that room off limits for our scene was more of a punishment than a spanking or having to eat her out without being able to come myself. Actually, being forced to stay in that vanilla bedroom was the only part of my “punishment” that I considered a bad thing.

While my mistress watched, I stripped out of my business attire until I was down to my underwear, and then she demanded that I take those off, too. Once I was naked, Miss Elaine had me get on my hands and knees on the floor, and then she picked up a flogger that had been on the bed. I watched over my shoulder as she took her stance behind me and raised her flogger to her shoulder.

I turned my head forward again before she swung, and I felt the impact as the leather struck my ass. It seemed so strange to have Miss Elaine flogging me in the bedroom instead of the actual dungeon, but it didn’t feel any different. It still felt incredible!

Sometimes I’ll misbehave on purpose so my mistress will flog or spank me, because I like it so much. So while showing up late hadn’t been part of my plan, I was still reaping the benefits of my bad behavior.

My mistress continued whipping me, and each time her flogger hit me, I felt my dick jerk in excitement. I felt awful for making her wait for me because I was running late, but my remorse didn’t compare to how good the flogging made me feel. Miss Elaine didn’t stop until my cock was rock hard, and then she had me move onto the bed. She ordered me onto my back, and while I lay there, she started yelling at me. The verbal lashing is as much a turn on for me as a physical beating, and the more my mistress told me how I was “a lousy, no good, inconsiderate jerk,” the hotter I got.

As she lectured me on my bad behavior, she slowly unhooked her corset and then peeled off her leather skirt. She still had her tall heels on as she climbed onto the bed with me, and she moved up my body until she was straddling my chest. She stopped there for a moment, and she looked me straight in the eye as she told me that I was going to eat her cunt until she climaxed, but if I so much as dribbled a little pre come, she’d be done with me.

Once Miss Elaine was settled over my mouth, I started licking her gently. I’ve been with my mistress for three years, so I know what she likes, and the best way to make her come is to start slow and build to something more frantic. I flattened my tongue and dragged it across her pussy lips and up over her clit, then drew it back into my mouth and repeated the move over and over. When I felt her little clit harden under my tongue and tasted the first drops of dew, I started to work a little faster.

Next I pointed my tongue and began to thrust it between her lips and inside her cunt, slowly fucking her with it. I alternated that with tracing circles around her clit, and within a minute or two, I felt her starting to really drip into my mouth.

I’d barely tasted her juices when I felt Miss Elaine’s hand on my cock. While I continued eating her pussy, she started running her fingers up and down my shaft. She was actively trying to get me to come so that she could punish me again, but I was determined not to blow it.

I kept thrusting my tongue in and out of my mistress’s cunt, going faster and faster as I tried to get her off, and her fingers started moving faster on my cock at the same time. The more furiously I fucked her, the more she tickled and teased my dick, until I thought I was going to climax before she did. I didn’t want to upset my mistress by coming, so I picked up the pace on her cunt and even added a hand, using a finger to rub her clit frantically while I continued to fuck her with my tongue.

Soon Miss Elaine was gyrating on my face as she got closer to her orgasm, and eventually she was so excited that she dropped my dick and focused on her pleasure. I continued munching on her pussy until she came, flooding my mouth with her juices and moaning above me.

She sat on my face for another minute before climbing off me and dressing herself. She shimmied into her skirt and then cinched her corset once more. Meanwhile, I lay on the bed, waiting to hear whether I’d pleased her. As soon as she was dressed, she turned her attention to me and told me I’d been a good boy. “Your behavior hasn’t made up for you being late,” she insisted, “though you are forgiven for your tardiness.” She then informed me that as soon as she left, I could jerk off to completion because she didn’t want me to come in her presence. Then she said good night and left.

The minute my mistress exited the room, I grabbed my dick and started pumping it in my fist. It didn’t take long, and after maybe a minute of jacking off, I came. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of my climax, then straightened up the bedroom for my mistress, dressed, placed my tribute on the nightstand and left.

The following week, I made sure to be on time for my appointment with Miss Elaine. But if I ever feel like I need a real punishment, I now know what to do to get her all riled up!

Mr. Sam C., Denver, Colorado

When Chris told me he wanted to hire a dominatrice, I wasn’t really surprised. He’d always seemed to like domineering women, and more than a few times when we were dating he’d playfully asked me to spank him because he’d “been a bad boy.” It wasn’t until we broke up that he started discussing his desire to be controlled, though.

I told him I’d help him find a domme, and we created online personal ads on a bunch of fetish web sites. I even accompanied him to a few fetish parties when the ads didn’t yield a suitable domme for him. No matter what we did, though, he couldn’t seem to find anyone who was offering the kind of domination he sought. I was starting to think we’d never find a perfect mistress for Chris and that’s when he propositioned me.

“Do you think you could do it?” he asked me one day at lunch. We’d been discussing what he should do next to try to find a dominatrice he could work with when, out of nowhere, he asked me to take on the role of his mistress.

The idea was intriguing, to say the least, but I wasn’t sure I could play the part very well. Besides that, Chris was my ex, and I didn’t know whether we should be getting involved in any kind of sex play. I didn’t want to say no right off the bat, though, so I told him I’d think about it and let him know in a few days.

All weekend, all I did was think about Chris’s proposition. The idea of dominating him aroused me, and after all the work we’d done to try to find a woman to top him, I thought I had a good idea of what he wanted. I’d been spanked by partners a few times, and had met a dominatrice who’d shown me a few tricks at one of the parties Chris and I had gone to, so I felt like I knew enough for us to try it out. And, to be honest, I was still incredibly attracted to him, so the thought of ending up in bed with him again was pretty appealing. When we met for lunch the following Monday, I told him I would do it.

That Saturday, Chris came over to my apartment. I met him at the door wearing a leather corset he’d bought me when we were dating, a pair of leather pants and sky high heels. I had a riding crop in my hand it seemed like the perfect accessory and I slapped it against my leather clad leg, doing my best to look fierce.

Chris bowed his head when he saw me and mumbled, “Good evening, Mistress,” before stepping into my apartment. I led him to the living room and had him get on his knees. I told him he’d been bad and that I thought he needed to be punished.

“Do you agree, slave?” I asked, my voice loud and harsh.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his head still bowed as he knelt on the floor in front of me.

I swatted his ass gently with the crop, his pants softening the already light impact, and he moaned quietly. I didn’t think he felt much from the light taps, but simply having me play the role of his dominatrice seemed to be enough.

I flicked my wrist harder, making the crop hit him with more force, and listened as he moaned a little louder. I continued this for a few minutes before having him stand up and walk over to the couch. I had him lean over the back of the sofa, and then I started smacking his ass with my bare hand. He still had his pants on, but I was able to hit him harder than I had with the crop, and he seemed to enjoy it. He started wiggling his ass at me, and his moans stretched out long and low.

As I spanked his ass, I scolded him, telling him how disappointed I was in him and how I expected better behavior from a grown man. I didn’t have any examples of Chris’s bad behavior, but simply pretending he’d misbehaved seemed to be enough for him. It was certainly putting me in the mood to spank him more!

When I ran out of things to say, I demanded that Chris stand up and push his pants down to the floor. “I’m going to spank that bare ass of yours and make you sorry you ever disappointed me!” I told him, and he groaned loudly before he straightened up to do as I’d ordered. As he slid his pants and boxers down, I noticed that his cock was standing up straight and hard, and there was a drop of pre come glistening at the tip. My act was really turning him on! I knew he’d wanted me to play a domme, and I knew he would get aroused, but I’d had no idea a few smacks on the ass and a little yelling would make him so hard. Wow!

As soon as his pants were around his ankles and he was bent over the couch again, I started spanking him. It felt a lot different to be hitting his bare flesh with my palm different in a good way. I was getting more and more aroused by our role playing game, and I couldn’t believe we’d never done anything like it when we were dating. It was hot!

The more I spanked Chris, the louder he moaned. Soon he was even humping against the sofa as I smacked his butt, trying to get himself off in any way he could. It was clear our game was driving him crazy and it was really getting to me, too. I hit his ass a dozen more times before I gave in to my desire, pulled him up by his shirt and kissed him. I didn’t care about our game anymore. I wanted to fuck him.

Chris immediately sensed what I wanted from him, and he stumbled out of his pants and pulled off his shirt before he hurriedly undressed me. He practically ripped the leather garments off my body in his rush to strip me, and then he lifted me up so I was sitting on the back of the couch. He stepped between my dangling legs and kissed me, then pushed a hand between my thighs and started fingering me. He knew exactly what to do to make me climax, and he worked a finger in and out of my wet folds while he rubbed his thumb over my clit, flicking it occasionally. It took less than a minute for his handiwork to have me screaming his name in ecstasy as my first orgasm washed over me.

As soon as I’d come, Chris pulled his hand away and then guided his cock in to take its place. He thrust all the way into me in one stroke, and he held tight to my hips as he started pumping in and out. He fucked me the way I like, not too hard and not too fast, and he changed his pace and the depth of his thrusts every minute, keeping me on edge. Chris had always been good in bed, and he was making it very clear that he hadn’t lost any of his skill in the time we’d been apart. In no more than five minutes, he had me reaching a second powerful climax. Chris came a minute or two after me, and I dug my fingers into his ass, making him explode even more violently.

Since then, Chris and I have gotten together for several sessions of mistress/slave role play, and each time is hotter than the last. I don’t know if we’ll start dating again or if we’ll stick to our kinky sex games, but I’m so glad I said yes when he asked me to be his domme. I’ve never been so sexually satisfied!

Ms. Lauren W., Miami, Florida