Blair punishes you

Blair’s return downstairs is an entrance. She’s wearing a figure-hugging, black, leather body suit, that cuts low to reveal her cleavage and high to show all her thigh. She’s tied her blond hair back into a ponytail. The black, leather boots she’s wearing rise to her knees and have the most ridiculous set of high heels you’ve ever seen. She walks in them with confidence. She was taller than you before she put on the high heels, now she towers over you. All this is complemented with a dash of makeup that adds menace.

“You finished that drink yet?” You haven’t. She almost thrusts the cup into your face, and you find yourself slurping the last dregs of the ginger overload.

“Good boy,” she tells you as you finish. Then she holds out one hand. It contains the collar. “Put this on.” Her tone brooks no dithering. You put it on. “Good boy.” Then she leans down and kisses you, a passionate, frantic kiss, which is almost an **** on your tongue. When she pulls back, your lips feel bruised.

“Strip.” Again, no room for argument. You’re soon standing naked in your kitchen, the tall, blond, busty goddess in leather appraising you. Thankfully, your manhood has risen to the occasion. She runs a leather gloved hand over it in appreciation. The same leather gloved hand that slaps your bare ass when she tells you, “Get upstairs, now.”

She’s reorganised your bed, adding four chains, two connected to the headboard, two to the bed’s back feet. Each chain ends in a Velcro cuff. “Lie down, on your front.” First, she cuffs your ankles. She adjusts the chains and your legs splay across the mattress. Then she clambers over you to confine your wrists. Your arms are soon as splayed as your legs. You’re an X of flesh and bone posed on the mattress. There’s enough flexibility in the chains that you can crouch on your knees and elbows, but you’re still slightly splayed. Adjust and your hands nearly touch. You try and Blair catches them and confines them with the manacles from the Snetterton Collection.

“You still have to be punished for last night,” Blair tells you. She’s leaning down, whispering into your ear. It’s erotic. Further emphasised by her running a leather gloved hand over your bare behind, cupping your ass cheek, one finger reaching down to prod your testicles. Your cock stirs at the tender caress. It jerks to semi-stiffness when she slaps the meaty cheek. “You’re going to take this punishment, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

Another slap. Then she steps away.

To return with one of the paddles. She runs that over the same ass cheek. The flat surface rubbing against the tingling flesh, not yet sore. Then she lightly taps it. Tap. Tap. Tap. Each tap gaining in momentum, gaining in ferocity. Each tap adding to the anticipation. When will she hit you with real ****? When will it start to sting? An anticipation that sends blood to your balls and to your penis.

When it comes, it comes to the other cheek. The previous slap was still mild, only discomforting because it came to a cheek already softened by earlier blows. The initial truly painful slap comes to the one that escaped previous attention. The surprise adds to the pain, adds to the humiliation, adds to the eroticism.

You grunt. “Silence,” Blair whispers in your ear. “Or I’ll have to gag you.”

You understand. For the next blow you don’t make a sound. Nor the next. Nor the next. No longer taps, slaps. Not hard slaps. Not slaps that really hurt. Just slaps that sting. Slaps that soften the flesh. Slaps that redden the cheeks. You can feel the blood rushing there. It also rushes to your cock.

Blair sets up an unrhythmical tune, dancing erratically between cheeks, so you don’t know which one will take the punishment next, adding pauses when you don’t expect them, running a drumroll when you least wish it. Except your body responds with each blow, not with pain but with desire. Your dick is now hard. It’s jutting along your stomach. Your head is swimming. Is that due to pleasure, or is that due to all your blood rushing to your groin?

Blair pauses to run her gloved hand over your jutting shaft.

“Impressive. You know why you’re being punished?”

“Because I wasn’t available.”

“Correct. You weren’t available. For the rest of term, I don’t have much spare time, so when I need you, and I will need you, you must be available. When I call, you come. Understand?” You grunt your understanding. “Good boy. Now all this punishment has got me worked up as much as you.”

You feel her shift on the bed. She moves to sit in front of you, sliding her legs beneath your arms. There’s a flap in her outfit over the groin area. She unbuckles it to reveal her pussy beneath, shaved, and smooth, and ridged, and pink with desire, and wet with lust. The aroma of her desire engulfs you. Her hands take hold of your head, and she pushes it into her groin. You don’t need much encouragement.

You know what she wants. You run your tongue through her folds. You lap at her love hole. You swirl your tongue around her clitoris. You catch mounds of soft, sensitive flesh between your lips and suck. You tenderly bite just hard enough to leave an indentation. And every act you do is accompanied by a moan of her satisfaction.

“God, your tongue is nearly as good as your cock.”

Everything you do is instinctive. Everything you do drives her wild. She grasps your head and pushes you deeper into her pussy. Your tongue dives into its depths and she screams. All you know is her flesh, wet with saliva, wet with desire. All you can smell is her. All you can taste is her.

Her first orgasm jets a trickle into your face. You lap it up. Her second orgasm sets her hips convulsing, so that her knees knock against your neck and her feet kick into your chest. Her third orgasm has her spraying uncontrollably until her juices run off your cheek and your chin. By now your jaw is aching, your tongue is numb, your mind is swimming. The world is her pussy, and you’re lost inside it.

If you carry on any further, you’ll get lockjaw. After her third orgasm you can’t carry on. She can’t carry on. For minutes you are still entwined, both gasping breaths, both exhausted. She eventually pulls herself away from you. She eventually uncuffs your wrists and ankles. She rolls you over, so you’re on your back. A gloved hand runs up your shaft, tickling it. She leans in and kisses the head. It’s too much. You grunt as you cum, splattering thick white seed over your stomach and chest.

“Still no stamina.” She sounds disappointed. She kisses the head of your cock clean. Then uses one ungloved hand she scoops up your cum with a finger and transfers it to her lips. With the main puddles dealt with, she laps at the smeared remnants until your chest is sticky with her saliva.

“I think further punishment is needed.” The cuffs are back. The leather manacles from the Snetterton Collection are removed. You’re back being an X on the mattress, but now you’re splayed on your back.

You start to say you’re sorry, but she ignores you and stumbles to the en-suite bathroom. When she re-emerges she’s zipped up her bodysuit to re-confine her breasts and reattached the flap to cover her pussy. Her eyes show she’s back in control.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t control myself,” you begin.

Her mouth cracks a smile. “You couldn’t control yourself. You will learn to control yourself, understand? You will be punished for your action.”

“Punished?”

“Of course. You will lie there tonight and contemplate how you’ve disappointed me.” She doesn’t look disappointed. She looks like she can barely stand. She’s moving to her other clothes, pulling them on.

“You’re not staying the night?”

“I can’t, however much I want to, my baby’s waiting for me.”

“Baby?”

She sees the panic and laughs. “You think I have a child? I mean Giggsy, the love of my life. One day, when you’ve proven your worth, I’ll let you meet him. You should know, you may be a remarkable man, but you’ll never supplant a woman’s love for her dog.”

She wanders to your trousers, fishes around in the pockets and pulls out your keys. She pockets them.

“What are you doing? Release me.”

“No. This is your punishment. You’re staying like that tonight. I’ll be back in the morning to release you.”

What. No. No. You can’t stay like this. Tied to the bed. No. You pull against chains, but they’re wrapped too tight. The Velcro straps are fresh and tight. Maybe you’d be able to pull yourself free. Maybe not.

“You can’t do this, Blair. No. Let me go.”

Blair walks to your side, leans over and kisses you, smothering your words. She turns to leave. No, she can’t do that. She can’t leave you this way. You rattle the chains in your frustration.

At the door she pauses and looks back. There’s no sign of her fucked woman now, just the PE teacher always in control.

“You must learn to control yourself. If you’re like that when I get back, I’ll reward you.”

“Reward me, how?”

“If you like what we did just now, you’ll love your reward.”

And then she walks out of the room. You can hear her descend the stairs, open the front door, shut it, lock it. And you’re alone, helpless, naked, shackled to the bed.