Spanked Bottom in Boscombe 2
I had met him only minutes ago on Boscombe Promenade, but now I was naked and alone in his home, and I had already completely submitted to his will. I don’t know if he had seen that I was ripe and ready for the picking, but obviously it was true that I wanted this.
We were in his study, and Sir had stripped me and spanked me. He had seen that I had not squealed and struggled at every blow, but that I had enjoyed Sir spanking me, dominating me. He already knew that I was completely his. We stood in his study, me naked in the pose of a slave on display to her master, while he tweaked my nipples and told me what was to happen next.
“We will now go down to the basement, where I have a surprise for you. Understood?”
“Oh yes, Sir.” I was a bit dizzy from all the nipple tweaking, but then he stopped and led the way down the stairs.
“Of course when the house was built the basement was for the kitchen and the staff, but the kitchen was brought up to the main floor in the sixties. Some years ago I turned the basement into, ah, an interesting place to entertain guests.” We arrived in the basement, and it looked like a nice large high-ceilinged room, decorated in an old-world style with lots of sofas and chairs around the perimeter, a bar, and a fireplace. A large bay-window was at one end looking out to the street, and there was a separate entrance under the stairs to the front door of the main part of the house. He walked swiftly to the window and closed heavy shutters over them. No chinks of light came through, and the sounds from beyond were completely shut out. Then he turned some lights on, very dark mood-lighting, with a number of small spot-lights on the centre of the room where there was a strange bench.
He went to a shallow cupboard on the wall, and when he opened it I could see that there was a bewildering array of whips, floggers, canes, paddles, and various harnesses hanging inside. My heart raced when I saw them all and I wondered what I had gotten myself involved with, but when he turned to face me again I just looked into Sir’s eyes and knew that whatever he wanted to do, I would submit to.
“Kneel,” he commanded, and I obeyed. “Knees further apart, back straight, head up, hands on your thighs, eyes cast down unless I tell you to look at me. Good girl. In future when I command you to kneel you will take up this position, understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now look at me,” I looked up into his eyes and my heart raced to think how obedient I felt towards him. He held up a black leather slave-collar with steel D-rings on it. “Do you know what this is?”
“A collar for a slave, Sir.”
“For a submissive, yes. You now need to make a decision, to accept this collar or not. If you do not, you put on your bikini and go on your way. If you do, you become mine, my property. As my property I will protect you and look after you, but I will also do as I wish with you and use you as pleases me, understood?
“Yes, Sir.”
“Even when you are not here, you are mine, and will obey my instructions at all times, understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you accept my collar?”
“Yes, Sir.” I said without hesitation.
“Good girl. Now raise your hair to reveal your neck. That’s right. In the future when I collar you, this is the position you take. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said. He stepped forward and buckled the collar around my neck. Immediately I felt a sinking sensation combined with a tremendous elation. Sir now owned me. He then took a leash from the cupboard and clipped it to the collar. Putting a finger under my chin he lifted it, so that I was looking into his eyes.
“You are my property now. Understood?” His gaze was masterful, his tone authoritative. I melted before the power in his eyes, a power fed by my complete submission to him.
“Yes, Sir,” I said meekly.
“Do you know about safe words?” I said that I did, but did not have one. “How about Albus? My dog. If you can’t remember his name, just shout “dog”. I will not cease for anything else. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he said. “When you are leashed I may give you one of two commands, one is ‘heel’ and the other is ‘walk’. For the first you crawl on all fours at my side, for the second you stand and walk behind me. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Now heel!” I moved forward to crawl on my hands and knees at his side like a pet bitch while he walked a circuit of the room. “Good girl.” Those words always made me so happy, I think I may have started to wag my tail. Then he paused and said “walk.” I rose to walk behind him, and again we did a circuit of the room. We stopped at the strange bench at the centre of the room.
“Lay along the bench,” he ordered. Now I knew what the strange bench was for. It was made of dark sturdy wood in the for on two A-frames connected by the leather-upholstered bench itself and other beams further down. From various corners heavy chains and leather cuffs hung from it. The bench was at my waist level if I was on tiptoe. The red leather felt quite cool to my skin as I lay along it.
Gently but firmly he pulled my leg to strap it to a leg of the bench, then the other. My heart was pounding as he worked at fixing me to the bench so that my body would become rigidly restrained. A strap then went around my waist, cinched tight to push my back down, and raise my bottom. He strapped my arms down each side of the bench, leaving me completely exposed and easily accessible to Sir from every angle. I writhed against my bonds, but they were very secure and I felt completely restrained and controlled. A feeling I enjoyed immensely.
Sir took some time to enjoy his new property, caressing, and stroking, and tweaking me as I wriggled in my bonds. Then he went to the toy cupboard and came back with a flogger made of soft leather, which he showed to me before walking to my bottom. I inhaled sharply when it touched my shoulder, but he then just trailed the soft tails across the skin of my back in a tantalising caress. For some time he repeated this while I writhed. It was as though he was making love to me with the soft touch of the leather. But then he started to flick the end at me, stinging my flushed skin. My back, my bottom, down my thighs, and also my pussy, which made me gasp. I moaned at the arousal, feeling my wet lips slide against each other as I writhed.
The flicking became harder, and more stinging, until THWACK! He brought the flogger down on my bottom. The blow resonated through me, but it was not harsh or especially painful. THWACK! It came, time and time again. The glow of the punishment spread all over my back and down to my thighs, slowly pushing me down deeper in my submission to Sir. My whole body was alive with the stimulation, and then he stopped.
He slowly walked back to the toy cabinet, and considered the available implements as I writhed in my bonds. To my horror he chose a very rigid cane with a straight handle. I looked at his face as he turned back to me, and he smiled. It was a smile that was telling me that he was going to enjoy caning me, yet somehow I knew he was also telling me that he was paying attention if I wanted to use my safe word.
“Since you are new to this, I will just give you eight. On future occasions I will expect you to count them out, but given your inexperience I will count them.”
He stood behind me, and my heart raced when the cane rested on the skin of my bottom. I wriggled under the feel of it, but not much, as my bonds kept me tightly in position. But then the cane was raised from my body and WHACK! I cried out with the searing pain and fought against my bonds.
“One!” he said. Again the cane rested on my burning skin, then rose and WHACK! I cried out again and vainly pulled at the straps.
“Two!” Once more the cane rested on my inflamed bottom as he waited for me to settle down. But eventually I was submissively motionless. WHACK! He seemed to be keeping them all in the same part of my bum, which made the blows hurt even more!
“Three!”
This continued as I cried and writhed each time, and then became still for the next blow. “Four”. During all of this I sank deeper and deeper into a state of total submission. “Five”. In this state I started to fly above the pain. “Six”. Somehow I was flying high, yet sinking deeper and deeper. “Seven.”
“Oh Sir!” I cried. “Please Sir!” He paused.
“Yes? Trying to remember the name of my dog?”
“No Sir. Please…please continue.”
Whack!
“Eight. What do you say now?”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl. Hmm, you really are very wet, aren’t you? Are you Sir’s little slut?”
“Oh yes, please, Sir.” I writhed at the thought of being Sir’s slut, of feeling him inside me. I inhaled sharply as his fingers caressed my labia, then easily slipped into my hot wet body. I groaned as he continued to finger me deeply, but then withdrew. Soon I could feel his cock push up against my lips, and then thrust into me, deeply and powerfully. Harder and harder he pounded into me, his pelvis slamming into my sore bottom. I felt so gratified that his fucking was so urgent, so hard. He must be lusting greatly for him to pound into me like a rutting beast. Finally he came, hard and deep, Sir’s cock pulsed cum into his slut. He then allowed me to lick him clean, and I sucked every drop from him.
My limbs felt stiff when I was released from the bench, and I stood awkwardly before Sir, rubbing my bottom and wrists.
“Come along, time for some after care.” He went to a small fridge behind the bar and came back with some frozen cold-packs and a bottle, then he took my hand and led me to a sofa. He sat down, and directed me to lay along his lap, my bottom raised over his knees. I was slightly worried that he was going to spank me again, but instead he started rubbing the cold pack into my bottom. It felt wonderful against my hot wheals, and I lay contentedly on Sir’s lap as he cared for me.
“You are my property now, and I look after my property. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl.” I wiggled a little when he said that. “Cold is good for a couple of days, then hot after that to accelerate the healing.” After a while he dried my bottom with a towel, and started rubbing cream into it. “I will give you this bottle, It helps heal the bruises.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Don’t mention it. You have a lovely bottom, very spankable, and the sooner you heal, the sooner I can do it again.”
Eventually he decided that my after-care was over. I dressed in my string bikini again, and wrapped a shirt I had in my beach bag around my waist to cover my bottom.
“I would like you to come back tomorrow,” he said. It wasn’t a command, I think it was more a wish, perhaps giving me the option to run away.
“Yes, Sir. Is the same time convenient?” He smiled, it was actually a kind smile.
“It would indeed. I will either be here, or walking Albus.” I smiled.
“Until tomorrow, then, Sir!” and I walked back to my grandmother’s.
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