The Punishment Room

Emily strained against the restraints that held her spread-eagle against the wall. Her ass throbbed with the pain of the previous stroke.

She heard the whoosh of the flogger before she felt it strike her bare skin. Moaning, she strained again. But the chains that bound her wrists and ankles didn’t give.

Another stroke of the flogger, another flash of pain–Emily had lost track of how many lashes she had took.

The concrete wall was unforgiving against her tits, which stood taut. Her cock was fully erect, betraying her sense of arousal. Precum dripped down her legs. But she knew there would be no relief. Not yet.

“Why are you here?,” her Master asked, delivering another stroke of the flogger before Emily could answer.

“Because I didn’t satisfy your friend, Sir,” Emily moaned. “Because I wasn’t a good service slut.”

The next stroke was the hardest one. This was just the warmup, Emily knew; the real punishment was still coming.

“What do you need?,” her Master asked.

“Punishment, Sir.”

And Emily means it.

***

Emily was bent over the sawhorse, her wrists and ankles bound to the floor and her neck firmly encased in a leather collar. She felt his hands first. Strong, rough, and clearly experienced, they gripped her ass firmly and pulled its cheats apart. She was ready.

His cock was larger than her Master’s, and she knew that was the point. If she was going to be the service slut her Master wanted, she needed to be looser.

He went balls deep straight away, but–“thank God,” Emily thought–the thrusting started slowly. Releasing her ass, he reached forward and grasped her ample breasts.

Emily gasped as his fingers pinched her tits together. She could feel the tip of his cock massaging her prostate with Each thrust of his hips. The mixture of pleasure and pain had her eyes rolling back into her head within moments. And she could feel her own cock twitching with excitement as precum spasmedout of it.

He pulled out before she was anywhere near climax, wiped the lube off his cock, and walked to the front of the sawhorse. Gripping her flowing brown hair, he jerked Emily’s head back.

“Open wide,” he smiled. And Emily of course compiled.

She was gagging before she had a chance to take in the sight of his fully erect cock in front of her. It was nauseating and exhilarating in equal Measures as he fucked her throat with all the vigor of someone who knows the woman he was using existing for his pleasure. Emily didn’t have a choice but to swallow when his cock pulsed with ejaculate. He was halfway down her throat already and firmly in control.

Emily couldn’t breathe. He held her face tight against his crotch, burying her nose in his hair. And without thinking, Emily tightened her mouth around his cock, brushing it with her teeth.

It was a mistake. And she knew it instantly.

He pulled out and slapped her face with pumping force. Emily cried out, but she knew it would only aggravate him further.

“What the fuck is wrong with your slave?,” he called out to Emily’s Master.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d trained her to take a throat fucking.”

Emily’s Master got up from the chair he had been sitting in, and walked over to where she stood, bent and bound. “What’s he talking about,” he asked her with false compassion.

“I closed my teeth around his cock, Sir,” came Emily’s reply.

“I understand,” said Emily’s Master, running his hand gently across her cheek. “It’ll be OK.” He turned to his friend. “I’ll have to punish her, of course. But I trust that with enough pain this unfortunate incident won’t be repeated.”

The other man dressed and left. And with that, Emily was alone with her Master.

She was bound for the Punishment Room, that much she knew for certain.

***

Spread-eagle, Emily was vulnerable. And this was how her Master wanted it.

It wouldn’t be enough for him to flog–or even cane–her ass. She had failed to show proper care for a man’s cock, and that warranted especially harsh treatment.

Emily’s master gripped her balls, rolling each one between his fingers. The estrogen gel she applied each morning had shrunk them, but they still had all their feeling. So when her Master started to squeeze, Emily first grimaced, then moaned, then yelped as the pain grow in intensity.

Begging would do her no good, but she tried it anyways. People are so predictable once the pain starts, she reflected in passing.

“Please, Sir, it hurts,” she gasped.

“It’s supposed to,” he replied. “So is this…”

He released her balls for a moment before smacking them with his open hand. Emily yelped again. But her cock remained as hard as ever.

She heard her Master step backwards and told at the moment of relief she knew couldn’t last. This time there was no whoosh, no warning, nothing to alert her in advance to her Master’s leather boot crashing against her tenderest part.

Emily’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes well with tears, and she tried to scream. But before any sounds could leave her lips, another kick landed between her legs.

Emily compromised as the pain washed over her.

“Please, Sir!,” She finally gasped. “Please forgive me!”

“Just as soon as you’ve done your penance, slut,” her Master replied cooly. “Sluts like you only understand pain. So pain is what you’ll receive.”

And he was right.

Another kick, and this time Emily wasn’t just writing with pain. She couldn’t escape the ballbusting, but if she was being honest, she didn’t want to.

She felt a jolt in her sex, only this time it wasn’t from a kick. Her cock throbbed between her legs. Emily know what was coming.

Her Master ground his boot into her balls, and as the pain ratcheted up so, too, did her excitement. Emily’s eyes rolled back into her head, she pressed herself and her cock against the concretewall, and she started to spasm.

She could feel her Master smiling behind her as the pain flowed into pleasure and back into pain. She always came hardest in the Punishment Room.