Episode Three: Punishment

Part 3 of an Interview with Pittsburgh’s S&M Culture

The following interview was conducted by columnist Hayley Woodlam, and adapted in Dom De Plume as ‘The Interview,” and “SESSION 1: An Adaptation of Real-Life Doming in Pittsburgh’s S&M Underground.”

FALL 2016 — (Hill) Pittsburgh PA

Buttercup was dancing her way to the broom closet this time. Her disobedience had been her ticket; The Dom was impressed with her having stalled to avoid her chores and has already scheduled a punishment session for her!

Buttercup’s suspicions were grounded however, Idie had been misleading her.

Sure, the basic tenants were true on The Hill: (1) You Will Suffer. (2) His Pleasure is Your Pleasure. (3) Discomfort Will Remind You; But Idie had twisted their meaning, took advantage of Buttercup’s naïve position and added some horror to her point of view. She dodged the point while dogging the method.

So what was the point? Buttercup reasoned that it had evolved into self-exploration. Would this “sub-dom thing” really work for her? It wasn’t just about sex, apparently, and that was kind of how she felt she could connect to it.

Buttercup considered her motive back when it all started for her. When she submitted her application three months previous. She was sitting in her apartment that night, in the dark with just the glow of the laptop exposing her clandestine activites.

Tracing her fingers along the ornate doorway of the broom closet, Buttercup lingered on the memory. She laughed at the thought of herself hiding in the dark, touring the email she received from The Club as an interested selectee. She toured pictures and videos of the different rooms and wings on The Hill. Read bios and stories that made her blush with curiosity. She looked at who was a Dom in The Club, and what her particular Dom’s lifestyle offer was.

She saw several women, several subs, and some businessy-looking interns in her Dom’s wing of The Hill. She saw books, she saw classroom settings, sexy lingerie on beautiful women and she saw that she wanted to be one of them. She wanted to be with them and in those videos looking like a tight-knit clan, talking about what it all means.

The sexually liberated lifestyle on The Hill hooked her. Open communication, other people to talk to without feeling judged, other people to help her explore predilections, and with no need to sacrifice her real life to live this new one. She saw it in the ads online. She read about it in the forums and it was all true, all happening right here in Pittsburgh.

It wasn’t being a sub that compelled her and it wasn’t a drive to experience some kinky sex either. She was interested in that; why not, it sounded fun. And being a sub would be her way in, but in the long run she just wanted to be with her own kind, not knowing exactly what that statement even means.

But now that she was, in, she wondered if how she got here was the right way. Buttercup wondered if it was possible that other subs came here with the same mindset, just to belong, and not just to become a sub.

Further to the truth, it was after interviewing with The Dom that she really felt the velvet cuffs click. It could have been that he was the face of something she wanted, but she was immediately attracted to him. His appearance, the subtle ways he moved his body when he spoke, his style, the tattoos and piercings. Most of all, the powerful way he looked at her with those darkly inviting eyes.

When The Dom had heard about Idie’s attempt to frighten Buttercup he felt that her actions were devious, intentional, and impressive. He asked Buttercup if she felt he was right in his verdict and she smartly denied having any feelings about it at all. But in truth she thoroughly enjoyed standing to observe Idie’s humiliating and painful spanking. She happily thought to herself that she was enjoying it even more than Idie.

How life worked on The Hill was becoming clearer to Buttercup.

Buttercup had been tasked to finish her chores, waiting on her own punishment while The Dom continued with Idie’s, loudly, in the room next door.

Buttercup over-reached for a dustpan and dropped the broom. It hit the hardwood floor with a loud bang right as Idie’s scream of relief began to fill the room like some ghostly orgasm.

Suddenly, three women pattered into the study as Idie’s moan slowed and rolled to a soft whimper. One was a little brown-eyed woman with a cart of books. She hustled over to a large bookshelf after a warm greeting to the other two women that followed her in.

They were dressed in leather from thigh to neck, with matching black heels, and black raven hair, both looking very posh domme. One had a red riding whip in her hand and she glared at Buttercup with a fun, campy expression.

DOMME: Buttercup. Welcome to the family sweetheart! Now, time to get ready for some punishment.

BUTTERCUP: I haven’t even started cleaning yet. It’s only been twenty minutes, a half hour maybe?

The Domme offered a vibrant, genuinely fabricated grin.

DOMME: Oh don’t worry about it, you’ll be punished for that too!


SESSION 3: Buttercup’s Punishment

HAYLEY WOODLAM: Okay Buttercup. Let’s hear about this punishment. This was the first time you and The Dom were intimate together, correct?

BUTTERCUP: Yes. It was the first time.

BC: The [female] Domme, the one with the riding whip, her name was Molly. I found that out later. So, Molly took me into this bedroom, it was pretty much grey from ceiling to floor; the walls, the carpet, the pillowcases. it wasn’t simply dark and all that with the typical BDSM stereotypes, it felt normal and comfortable. Anyway, she took me into this room, and she didn’t put me on the bed, she took me to the other side of it where she had this plastic laid out on the floor, like a shower curtain or something, and she just pushed me to my knees…

The cheap plastic under Buttercup’s knees felt warm, but it still reminded her of a murder scene. This stranger, a beautiful woman but a stranger still, grasped Buttercup’s only attire by the bottom of its black lace and ripped it from her body.

MOLLY: Stay.

She walked into another room, to Buttercup’s back. In short order Molly returned, clomping those heels all the way to the bedroom carpet. Buttercup heard the door close. She felt a hand carefully but forcefully touch her back and push.

MOLLY: Down darling.

Molly lifted one of Buttercup’s lithe bare legs. The other quickly followed as a pair of panties slid up her thighs. And just as she realized that there was something in them she knew exactly what it was.

Molly flipped the switch right and threw the remote control on the bed.

Buttercup was dripping in an instant. The endless buzzing sound in the air resonated with the vibration between her legs. She remained in a trembling stance on her hands and knees. Her mind was already twisting and squirming. She thought to herself. “I really can’t stop this if I come?’ Can I handle this?”

It was fear. Her first bite of fear on The Hill.

MOLLY: Try not to move and try not to make too much sound. You can fail of course, but just try hard. Do not remove my panties. And I do want them back. Wait here for The Dom.

The door shut. Molly was gone and Buttercup was left in what was now a very bare and quiet room, with the exception of the buzzing and the sound of her panting. It was dark. The bedroom was big and had high ceilings. The only break in the dark came from six little teacup candles and a swatch of moonlight pouring through a few panes of a large, mostly blacked-out, window above her head.

Buttercup tried to focus on the simple things. She didn’t know how to do this, how to not reach for it, how to stop herself from taking control of it. She tried not to think about it: maybe she could do it just by force of will, or by distracting herself. She told herself to think about the simple things. The moonlight, the texture of the plastic between her fingers, the buzzing of the

‘Oh No!’

Buttercup came. For the second time and this time it was big. In a way with all the mental fighting, it hit her by surprise and was washing over her now. In a low whispered moan she broke her silence.

BC: Ohhh… my God.

She felt that familiar warmth drip down from the panties she wore, but this time it seemed to flow more than drip. She wondered how much longer The Dom would be. She was still coming, she hit kind of a ‘hum’ as she calls it. But she knows it won’t last, and then the need to grab this fucking thing again is going to hit her hard.

And it did.

She resisted. Buttercup convinced herself that moving her knees just the right way and swaying her thighs outward gave her a moment of relief from the vibrator, as it was still going full joy on her soaked clit.

Come on. Where is he…

The vibrating. No, the moonlight. The plastic. The color grey. Can I do this? I can’t do this!

And the door opened. Buttercup gripped the plastic. She had just given up. She held a scream and the impulse to follow through with her failure. Just for a second. Just one second. He’s here. I can do this.

The Dom walked over slowly and stood in front of Buttercup. She looked up, pathetically with a distressed look on her face that she hoped he couldn’t see very well. He was naked, perfect in the low-light as the shadows honed the angles of his toned body in front of her.

He knelt down and kissed Buttercup passionately. She reciprocated and included a deep and pained moan. She felt she was failing. Done. Was she coming again? It was more of a drumming thud in the back of her head now. Where was the joy in this?

Suddenly, relief!

The Dom slid the panties down her wet thighs. He was behind her and that evil buzzing was still going at it against the floor in the panties wrapped between her ankles.

Buttercup took a great breath of victory. And it was followed by a great plunge between her thighs and inside her. His cock went right over her frayed nerves in a merciless penetration. She found his hands pulling back hard on her hips until she was buzzing again between her legs, without assistance this time.

The sensations, yes, they were in a way just too much. She had to find some inventive, even sub-conscious ways of processing it, but here she was in full swing with her Dom for the first time. She was suddenly very present again, and overjoyed.

DOM: Buttercup. Grind on me. Fuck me. And when I say ‘Switch’ I want you to turn yourself around and start sucking me as vigorously as you can.

Buttercup looked back at him. She began grinding.

DOM: Grind and screw, darling. I won’t say it again.

Buttercup, sweating, exhausted, and beyond any point of sexual gratification she thought capable of enduring, began to grind hard.

She swayed her hips up and down on her Dom and would end with a slam. She went into another grind and worked this pattern four or five times, forcing moans and throbs from her Dom’s body with each compression.

DOM: Switch.

Buttercup pulled up fast and felt him slide out. Staying on her hands and knees, she creased the plastic under her lithe frame as she swung herself around. With one hand she grabbed him and went right into a deep throat, held, and then began stroking and sucking vigorously, as instructed.

DOM: Buttercup. Very good. Keep going. More.

Buttercup gagged a little. She felt a second wind of energy kicking in. Or maybe it was a third?

DOM: Switch.

Buttercup de-throated her Dom’s cock and swung herself around. Grabbed him from between her legs and slid down on him, hard. She went right back into her pattern. But this time she felt on fire. Dripping, hot, pulsing and swelled. Suddenly she was coming, and moaning, and bucking her hips on him.

DOM: SWITCH!

Against all impulse Buttercup pulled her hips up again. This time she slipped a knee trying to turn too fast. He caught her by the shoulder and she was already swallowing him before she recovered.

She pursed her lips at the tip and stroked him hard. Then she followed her hand down until it started to enter her throat, going back up again fast. She did it again. Then again, slower. It was only a matter of seconds this time.

DOM: SWITCH!!

Buttercup swung herself again. Grabbed her Dom again, and once again drove herself blissfully all the way down his shaft. She decided to do it just like that this time. All the way up, all the way down. And squeeze. Fast and precise. Buttercup looked back at him over her bucking hips, biting her lip to hold back a scream. He was close. She could tell.

DOM: Swi…tch!!

Buttercup felt him come a little inside her as she pulled her hips up once again. Her Dom was holding himself when she turned to gab him. When he let go she felt the rest hit her lips and then flow into her mouth. She began swallowing and started to moan as she did. She wanted to let him know that she loved it. She loved having made it through this. She loved tasting him. She was trembling, feeling him pulse through her whole body. It was all much more than she could have imagined, and she couldn’t wait to talk about it with her new friends on The Hill.

Like what you read? Give Cassidy Lewis Benson a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.