Asrai Devin

Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.” ― Sylvia Plath

Caught Part 2: The Punishment

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Part One



Brad nods solemnly. “First, you need to study for an hour, little miss. I won’t allow distraction from your studies.”

I nod and get off the bed. He wraps me in a robe he bought for me when I sleep over.

I lumber out to the kitchen and sit at the table again. I open my books and my laptop, and focus on studying, trying not to wonder what he’s doing. The shower goes on and off that takes about ten minutes of the hour. I don’t know how he showers so fast.

In case he returns, I make myself focus on my work. I fill in the blanks of my lecture notes from the reading. I get through my Friday class notes and reading. Last, I have to find a topic for my essay, so I am forced to re-read the notes I just made.

“Your hour is up,” Brad says.

“I’m almost done.” I don’t look up. I don’t even focus on him in my peripheral view.

He’s watching me as I make notes for potential topics, but I pretend my work is more important. Maybe it is. Brad has quickly moved up the list of my priorities. So fast, so much, it’s scary. But the exhilarating kind of fear. I want more.

When I finish the notes, I put my books in my bag and close my laptop. I fold my hands in my lap and stare at the table. “Finished,” I say, pretending I’m a good submissive. I’m not. I’m a brat. He reminds me daily. I can’t help it. I’ll do anything to see him smile.

My pussy is humming with anticipation. The spanking is coming. I turn and smile at him. “Yes, sir.”

He stands behind me. “Stand up, hands behind your back.”

I raise to my feet and clasp my hands behind my back. I feel something soft wrap around my right wrist then it tightens, the sound of velcro scraps my ear drums. The second wrist is wrapped the same way.

His lips wrap around my ear lobe, teasing me until I sag against him. “I know you want a spanking.”

I nod, eager for the pain. “Yes, Sir.”

“That’s why you aren’t getting one.”

“Sir?”

“That would be a reward.” He grabs the back of my neck and moves me into the living room. He sets me on the sofa and opens my robe. One hand grabs my chin and the other plays with my nipples, soft touches then a rough pinch and twist. Then soft again. Rough and soft until I’m panting. Then he bends down and kisses me harshly.

He pulls out a pair of nipple clamps from his pocket and attaches them to my body. I close my eyes sinking into the delicious pain.

He turns his chair to face me. I have so many memories of kneeling beside that chair. Sucking him off, being teased, confessing my deepest desires.

He strips his clothes off and and sits down.

“I want to hear a story.”

“A story?”

“More specifically, a fantasy.”

Oh.

Brad looks down my body. “Spread your legs for me, little miss. If you can’t keep them apart, I’ll get the spreader bar.”

I open my legs, exposing my pussy to him. I lean back against the sofa as much as I can with my hands behind my back.

“Okay. A fantasy.”

“I want your fantasy. The one you were using to masturbate when I caught you.”

“I told you, a threesome.”

He shakes his head. “I want it in detail. What type of girl. What you were doing, what was I doing? What was she doing?”

I swallow a moan and drop my head to my chest. He’s going to have me detail my fantasy, while I can’t touch myself and my nipples are being stimulated. He’s good at erotic torture, punishment.

“I guess she’d be a brunette. I think you like brunettes.”

“Based on what?”

“Your wife was. I am.”

His mouth curves up. “I guess I am partial to brown hair. Blonde is fine if you are into it.”

“Maybe a redhead. Fiery and passionate.”

“Sounds good so far.”

“She’d have freckles in her intimate parts, because she sunbathes nude sometimes. For short periods because delicate redhead skin.”

“Why did you choose a girl for this fantasy?” He tilts his head to the left, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I wanted something softer.”

“Have you ever been with another woman?”

“I’ve kissed a few. But never touched one.” I squirm. My arms are sore from holding the same position for so long. I roll my shoulders up and back to stretch them.

“Are you bisexual?”

“Perhaps. Curious, I guess is the best description.”

“Bi-curious. Go on.” He watches me while I consider my next words.

“It’s something I fantasize about occasionally. Another woman. The kisses are softer, even rough kisses. We’d all be on your bed, you’d sit beside us while we kiss and undress. She sucks my nipples. I suck hers.”

Brad wraps his hand around his growing erection and strokes. I want to touch, to feel. My pussy throbs with wanting to feel him. I squirm, hyper aware of the restraints. I press my knees out, hoping for a reward if I keep myself open as demanded.

Right now, I’d take the kiss over anything.

“Go on little miss. Keep telling me about fucking another woman.”

My mouth is suddenly dry. I lick my lips hoping to find my voice again. “I put my hand between her legs and rub her clit.”

“How wet is she?” He looks relaxed. He is relaxed. He’s not bound and forced to confess.

“Really wet. Soaking my fingers. It drips down.” I close my eyes so I can see the fantasy instead of him.

“I want to taste her.”

“That wasn’t part of my fantasy.”

“We’re changing it.”

“You lick my fingers off, suck them. And I touch her again, more, harder. She’s moaning. Her fingers are between my legs as well, rubbing my clit.”

“How wet are you?”

“Soaked. Like as wet as you got the first night I was here.” I am. I’m soaking his sofa. My pussy needs to be touched. I open my eyes, so I can see what he’s doing.

“You’re that wet every night, little miss. You’re a slut.”

I bow my head a little. “I am.”

His lips twist into a grin. “I like you being a slut. It’s fucking hot.” He strokes his cock pulling it out to show me how much it turned him on. I like turning him on, it makes me feel powerful, exhilarated.

He strokes slowly again. “Keep going little miss.”

“You reach down and pinch my nipples and make me squirm. That’s when you caught me. And I came right after that.”

“What if I hadn’t caught you? What if the fantasy went on? What would you do next?”

I feel bold now. He’s got a firm grip on his cock as he strokes. I want to get him off. To see him come. It would be better if he got me off as well, but that seems unlikely under the term of punishment.

“She’d kiss her way down my body, put her head between my legs and lick my clit. Suck on it. While you pinch my nipples. I reach over and stroke your cock while she licks me toward orgasm.”

“I want you to suck my cock.”

“Okay, I lean over and take your hard cock into my hot wet mouth and suck my cheeks in just right, the way that makes you roll your head back and moan. I take you deep into my mouth, my hand wrapped around your cock, while I use my mouth to fuck you.”

“Good girl. How turned on are you right now?”

“Very. Extremely. I’m dying to press my legs together. I keep pulling at my restraints wanting to relieve myself.”

He moves to me, still stroking his cock. With his other hand he probes between my legs, rubbing across the trimmed hair on my mound, parting the lips and gathering wetness. Two fingers thrust into me. My head drops back with a moan and his hand is gone. He’s back in the chair.

My pussy aches with longing for his touch. I whimper as my head snaps back up.

“Keep going little miss. Does our mystery woman make you come?”

“No. She stops, you tell her to stop. You tell me to get between her legs and make her come. And I get down there and taste my first pussy. And I suck her clit.”

“No, wait. Tell me how it tastes.”

“Tangy, sort of sweet. I love it. I shove my face in, sucking, licking, wanting more. And she comes because I’m so intense.” Goddess, I need to touch myself. I need to come. I rock my hips, maybe I can come through thought alone.

“Open your eyes, Kylie.” His words cut through my desperation. Pulling me out of the fantasy of coming before he does. I look at him, licking my lips. My eyes drift down to where he’s really jerking it. My hips move in time to his strokes. Small movements from me, like I’m urging him on, or fucking him.

“And then you are behind me, she sits up so I don’t drown in her pussy. And you fuck me from behind, holding my hips tight, you’ll leave bruises on my hips and my cunt, because it’s so hard and fast and I don’t have time to come because you come. And I’m left wanting again.”

I watch in fascination as Brad strokes himself so fast I think he might start a friction fire. Watching him is incredible. My pussy demands satisfaction, but I resist. I squeeze my inner muscles because it’s all I can do.

And his cock jerks in his hand and spurts cream. And I lean back on the sofa because I want to lean forward and taste it. Touch it. I want to touch him. I need that more than I need to come. To feel his skin, smell his sweat, taste his kiss. I didn’t know how much those mean to me.

“Good girl. Come here.”

I move to sit on his knee and he pulls me close. He presses his fingers to my knees, pushing my legs apart. “Ah there’s my sweet little miss. Do you feel you were punished enough?”

I nod and whimper. “Yes, Sir.”

He kisses my neck. “Do you want to come?”

“Please, Sir. I want to come.”

“Oh little miss slut. You will come.”

He picks me up and carries me to his bedroom. When he drops me on the bed he has a smile on his face. “Get ready to beg.”

I can beg to come if he wanted me to. Zero problem. I open my mouth but he shakes his head. “Not yet.”

My brow furrows. He pushes my legs open again and dives in. His tongue parts my pussy lips and he licks up the desire. His tongue inside me almost tickles, but it only lasts a moment before he starts on my clit.

I’m so hot already, it doesn’t take much before I’m over the edge. My arms ache as I fly apart under his tongue. He keeps licking until the trembling is over. He crawls up and kisses me. His fingers rip apart the velcro that’s restraining me. He rubs my arms.

“My hands are asleep,” I complain.

“Aww poor little miss. I have a way to help you.”

“Oh?” I think he’ll massage my sleepy limbs. Instead, he pulls the clamps from my nipples and pain shoots through my body.

He soothes the pain with his fingers, and then pain subsides, and his attention becomes teasing. His head drops to my chest, his teeth rasping over the nipple, his tongue soothing.

“Brad.” My voice is a plea, a prayer.

He lifts his head from the sweet torment. “Yes, little miss?”

I swallow my demands, my questions.

“I denied you pleasure earlier little miss. Now I want to give you pleasure.” His hand splits my thighs, his finger on my clit, swirling.

I lay back and close my eyes, somewhat grateful. He stops as my body is warming, and my eyes fly open. His body weight is moving away and I press my lips together to keep from frowning. My eyes track his movements. He opens his nightstand. He’s getting a toy to use on me. I hear the buzzing of the magic wand, my new favorite toy, before I see it.

He presses it between my legs. “Tell me when I find the good spot,” he whispers.

“There. Right fucking there.” My thighs close on the toy, holding it in place.

His mouth returns to my breasts, teasing me again. My second orgasm takes longer, even with the toy. The teasing didn’t last as long as the first time. But Brad is patient with me, adjusting the toy a few times so nothing turns numb.

The build up comes, my inner muscles getting tighter and tighter. Not just my pussy, my arms, my back, my chest. It all pulls in to the centre of my pleasure until I explode. My nerves popping with gratification.

My thighs drop open, letting the wand loose. Brad grabs it and pulls my pussy lips apart. He pushes the vibrating head against my sensitive clit and my body twists on instinct.

“Stay still.” His voice is low, but the command is clear.

He’s going to force me to come over and over. It’s more punishment. Maybe that shouldn’t thrill me. He promised me once to find out where my limits are and push me past them.

How many times can one Little Miss come? How long before pleasure becomes torture?

His eyes find mine and wait to see if I’ll rise to the challenge. I nod once, telling him I accept the challenge. I can safe word out, I have before. Today I want to know where the real line is.

His body disappears again, but I can feel his hand is still holding the wand against me. The vibrations shake my teeth. I take a slow breath, relaxing my jaw, my legs. I look up at him, knowing he’ll take care of me.

In his eyes, I surrender to his demands. He rubs the vibrator up and down my open slit. “You look so fucking sexy. I’m so hard again.”

My eyes can’t focus as the passion intensifies. My hands twitch at my sides and I want to roll away. Brad grabs my hand, holding me still with his presence. I shake my head instead. “I can’t, I can’t. Oh god, let me come.”

“Come for me again little miss. I want to watch you lose yourself.”

The orgasm erupts on his command. My mouth opens wide and I moan louder than I ever have. My pussy erupts as well, a flow of desire I’ve never felt. He moves the vibrator along my limbs.

It isn’t until his hands massage my thighs that I realize I’m the source of vibration. He puts pressure on my muscles and joints until I’ve calmed down.

My eyes flutter open. “Fuck.”

“Mmm,” is all he says, looking down on me. “You soaked my sheets.”

I look down. Indeed I have.

He flips me over and I’m so drained, my body can’t resist his manipulations. He slaps my ass. I barely have the energy to enjoy the pain. Is he going to spank me now? Fuck me? Make me come again?

to be continued …


We aren’t done torturing poor Kylie yet. I started writing and I can’t seem to stop.


This post is part of Masturbation Monday. Week #166


Part Three: The Reward

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6 Comments

  1. Wow i am not surprised she soaked the sheets! 😉

  2. Yowsah! That was a very hot story Asrai, so erotic. So hot I… well, it is Masturbation Monday after all!! I can’t wait for Part 2.

  3. Pingback: Masturbation Monday: Week 166 Roundup • Masturbation Monday

  4. So this entire part was HAWT, and it definitely turned me on. But here’s the line that struck me the most: “I’m a brat. He reminds me daily. I can’t help it. I’ll do anything to see him smile.” – I don’t use the word brat for myself (we say ‘sassy’) but you’ve summed it up perfectly. I never thought of it this way, but that’s exactly it. I know that behavior makes him smile so I keep doing it. Mind. Blown.

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