Loved & Owned

Just as I was about to get up and do something productive while they talked, Miss ordered me to lie face-down on the sofa.

She disappeared from the room for a moment and returned with the baton.

An actual police baton. A proper club, and one I’d always considered far too brutal for my liking.

Its advantage became obvious pretty quickly, though, when Miss started expertly spanking my ass with it while casually telling her cousin about our honeymoon: it was remarkably quiet, but the impact was absolutely vicious.

I had to stay completely silent while Miss thoroughly worked over my ass, making sure my thighs weren’t spared either. Eventually, the blows slowed down.

Thank God. I wouldn’t have been able to keep my mouth shut much longer.

But then, without warning, she pressed the thick, rough handle of the baton against my back entrance and mercilessly rammed it into my ass.

She fucked me with it relentlessly. Sometimes fast and brutal, sometimes slow and almost tender, and sometimes all the way in and all the way out.

I screamed into the sofa cushions.

Then Miss repeated the whole ordeal: another series of hard blows against what I was absolutely certain was, by now, my thoroughly bruised ass, followed by another round of anal punishment.

And through all of this, she continued her phone conversation as professionally as ever, occasionally dropping in perfectly timed phrases like, “Well, sometimes it just has to hurt”.

Everything fit.

Oh God, how I love this woman.

Anyway, I can assure you that my ass is very thoroughly marked and my poor butthole has certainly been put through its paces over the past week.

My pussy, on the other hand, continues to be completely ignored.

Still, to make the time apart a little sweeter (or perhaps to make sure I wouldn’t forget her for even a second) Miss rummaged through her punishment box and found the perfect excuse to leave me with a few lingering reminders of her.

Twenty-seven strokes for the twenty-seven minutes I had gone over my allotted edging time.

She chose the steel cane with its sharp spikes. A dreaded instrument, because it doesn’t merely leave bruises. It leaves countless tiny wounds as well, the kind that make sitting properly nearly impossible for half a week.

A real punishment.

Again and again, Miss brought it down while I counted every single stroke through gritted teeth, my voice increasingly strained.

When she was finished, Miss inspected her handiwork with satisfaction before promptly sending me between her thighs but not without promising me a night with a plug afterward.

At least my performance would determine which plug would be keeping me company for the next eight hours.

Fortunately, Miss was pleased.

I buried my soaking-wet face in the bedsheets as she eased the large glass plug inside me. A familiar intruder.

Her soft fingers traced over the marks she had left on me before wandering along my pussy. I pushed my hips toward her with a moan. It had been soooo long since she had touched me there (unless you counted the cold end of her belt or the crop striking against me).

“Please, Miss,” I moaned into the pillows.

“Please what?!” she snapped.

“You want to be fucked? … Nothing would make me happier.”

With that, she grabbed the base of the plug and yanked it almost completely out before driving it back into me.

She gave me a merciless plug-fucking that left me whimpering afterward. I should have known exactly where this was going, and I hated myself a little for falling for it anyway.

Once Miss had made absolutely certain that the inside of my ass hurt just as much as the outside, she pulled me tightly against her, locked me in place with her strong legs, and wrapped her hand around my throat.

My favorite position to fall asleep in.

Our new set of rules has existed for exactly three days. And somehow, within those three very short days, I’ve managed to break almost every single one of them and build myself a rather impressive punishment list.

I genuinely tried to behave. I really did. But around our friends, I always feel so safe and comfortable that sometimes my mouth moves considerably faster than my brain.

Thankfully, Miss spared me the humiliation of punishing me right there in front of the girls. Instead, she saved everything up for Sunday evening.

She started by chaining me to our bed. After giving me a careful once-over to make absolutely sure I was truly helpless and at her mercy, she disappeared from the room.

When she returned, she was carrying a ball gag and one of our biggest dildos.

She fastened the gag around my head, briefly checked in about my safeword, and then began my punishment.

Her first choice was the tawse.

She went to work on my ass, which was still marked by a few lingering welts from my previous punishment. But after a while, apparently that wasn’t satisfying enough for her.

I wasn’t screaming loudly enough.

So she exchanged the tawse for a large, heavy rubber paddle.

Those strokes steal the breath from your lungs for a second.

Again and again, the cold, heavy material slammed into me until I was crying into my gag. Eventually, my backside started to feel numb, and I simply surrendered to each new blow. She made sure the backs of my thighs received their share as well.

Only when my poor ass looked as though it might actually glow in the dark (and I must have taken well over a hundred strokes) did she switch implements again.

This time, she used the riding crop, painting thin welts across my already swollen skin.

The sharper pain immediately had me twisting against my restraints again.

“Mmm. I know exactly what you want when you wiggle your ass like that,” Miss murmured into my ear.

I frantically tried to protest through the gag.

“You want to be fucked, don’t you? Oh, I’ll be very happy to grant that wish.”

I knew exactly what that meant.

Miss had been completely ignoring my pussy for weeks, so there was really only one other place she could possibly have in mind.

She spat onto my backentrance and expertly pushed the enormous dildo inside me. I screamed into my gag.

She barely gave me any time to adjust before she began driving it deeper, soon pushing it all the way into my ass.

And then, as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, she made me participate in my own punishment.

I had to fuck myself with the dildo, rocking my body backwards and forwards as far as the chains would allow.

Absolutely humiliating.

After what felt like an eternity, apparently even that became too boring for her. She grabbed the Magic Wand and began pleasuring herself while taking control of the dildo again, repeatedly pulling it almost completely out before thrusting it brutally back into my ass.

Over and over.

She continued until she finally came.

By then, I was sobbing uncontrollably.

Eventually, she stopped.

And then we cuddled.

Me still in chains.

When she finally released me, we went outside into the garden to continue the aftercare in the evening sunshine and fresh air. I was beginning to relax when Miss leaned close and whispered into my ear:

“There’s still one punishment left.”

With that, she walked into the conservatory and reached for the cane that hangs rather ominously right beside the door as a permanent warning.

Once again, I had to bend over in our garden.

And once again, the cane landed across my already thoroughly abused backside.

All I could do was desperately hope that none of our neighbours had noticed anything.

Bright red with embarrassment, I hurried back into the house and got the shower ready.

We kissed wildly beneath the water, and I was allowed to kneel behind her and pleasure her ass with my tongue.

In return, she showed my poor, thoroughly punished butthole absolutely no mercy with her fingers. Although, thankfully, she spared me the soap and even the enema that would have completed my humiliation perfectly.

And now?

Now we’re curled up together on the sofa.

My ass is absolutely ruined, my dignity disappeared somewhere around stroke number fifty…

…and apparently my final task for tonight is making Miss come with my mouth.

Again.

And again.

After Miss had already made me want to sink straight into the ground at our own bachelorette party, she somehow managed to top herself at our best friend’s bachelorette weekend we had organised...

At the moment, the punishment for deliberately provoking Miss is having said punishment carried out in public.

After a stressful morning of last-minute packing, we picked up the girls and our bride-to-be. But before I was allowed to get into the car, Miss told me to take off my pants and bend over against the trunk.

Right there. In our driveway.

The cane cut through the air with a sharp whoosh before landing across my bare ass.

Ten hard strokes. Ten that I had to count out loud.

Only then was I finally allowed to get into the car with strict instructions to turn on the heated seat for the drive.

But the pain wasn’t even my biggest problem...

For the bachelorette weekend, we had booked a rather special thermal spa, including an overnight stay and all kinds of wellness treatments. Since we absolutely love going to the sauna, I’ve become something of an expert at discreetly hiding the evidence of a session whenever we’re in the clothing-free area.

There was just one tiny flaw in that plan.

We had booked massages for everyone.

So it wasn’t long before I found myself lying completely naked on a massage table, while the not-exactly-gentle masseuse got an unobstructed view of my thoroughly striped backside.

She handled the infinitely embarrassing situation professionally, laughing it off as though it were nothing. But I certainly wasn’t able to relax and enjoy what should have been an amazing massage.

Thankfully, with my face buried in the headrest, she couldn’t see just how violently I was blushing.

After Miss had already made me want to sink straight into the ground at our own bachelorette party, she somehow managed to top herself at our best friend’s bachelorette weekend we had organised...

At the moment, the punishment for deliberately provoking Miss is having said punishment carried out in public.

After a stressful morning of last-minute packing, we picked up the girls and our bride-to-be. But before I was allowed to get into the car, Miss told me to take off my pants and bend over against the trunk.

Right there. In our driveway.

The cane cut through the air with a sharp whoosh before landing across my bare ass.

Ten hard strokes. Ten that I had to count out loud.

Only then was I finally allowed to get into the car with strict instructions to turn on the heated seat for the drive.

But the pain wasn’t even my biggest problem...

For the bachelorette weekend, we had booked a rather special thermal spa, including an overnight stay and all kinds of wellness treatments. Since we absolutely love going to the sauna, I’ve become something of an expert at discreetly hiding the evidence of a session whenever we’re in the clothing-free area.

There was just one tiny flaw in that plan.

We had booked massages for everyone.

So it wasn’t long before I found myself lying completely naked on a massage table, while the not-exactly-gentle masseuse got an unobstructed view of my thoroughly striped backside.

She handled the infinitely embarrassing situation professionally, laughing it off as though it were nothing. But I certainly wasn’t able to relax and enjoy what should have been an amazing massage.

Thankfully, with my face buried in the headrest, she couldn’t see just how violently I was blushing.

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