The stocks.

You tell her you'll go to the board hanging from the ceiling. It seems like the cushioned pedestal would be more comfortable than the hard, flat table. The Crimson Queen nods with a calm, knowing smile as she leads you over, having you stand at the pedestal.

She produces a little key from her bodice, using it to unlock the chains on your wrists before gently shoving you forward. You're leaned over the cushioned pedestal until your abdomen rests upon it fully. She then comes around to open the stocks hanging before you, bringing them closer to fit your arms and head through their respective holes. With a snap and a clank, the stocks are locked tight around you, and you find yourself unable to lift the heavy shackles, leaving you bent forward over the thankfully soft pedestal.

"Is it comfortable enough?" you hear the Crimson Queen ask from behind you.

You figure it would be best to agree, and although it's not the most relaxing position, it isn't all that uncomfortable. "Yes," you answer. Just then you feel a wicked slap strike your rear, resounding through the stone room.

"'Yes' what?" she asks.

You swallow a cry of protest, deciding to behave like you were asked. "Yes Mistress."

"That's better," she coos, giving the silk skirts of your costume a gentle caress. You then feel that touch slide lower, soon lifting the soft pink skirts all the way up your legs, revealing your pink cotton panties. "Oh," she sounds. "It seems you enjoyed that, didn't you?"

You feel her hand gently stroke the damp cloth upon your sex, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. Suddenly another slap hits your exposed ass, its touch leaving your smooth bottom stinging. You can't help but let out a squeak in reaction to the painful strike.

"Didn't you?" she asks insistently.

"Yes Mistress!" you cry, unsure but for the evidence of your pleasure belying the thoughts of protest. The Crimson Queen gently runs a hand over your rear, giving your crotch extra attention.

She spanks you again, even harder. Your body flinches away from the contact, but there's nowhere to go. The punishment continues, eliciting occasional gasps and moans from you as she aims ever closer to your more sensitive areas. As one hard strike hits the moist crotch of your panties, your legs nearly give out from under you, the pedestal the only thing holding you up as the painful sensations threaten to bring you to an almost unwilling orgasm.

The **** suddenly stops, leaving your quivering pussy flushed with need, and sensitive to the denial of release. "Please Mistress... more..." you find yourself moaning, wanting the touch back. Your reply is a smack across the ass, though only barely and frustratingly coming in contact with your aching cunt.

"Do not speak unless spoken to, darling. That's the rule," the Crimson Queen chides. You squirm in the cushion as she rubs your thighs without touching your needy sex. You hear the sound of cloth moving behind you, and your limited view of the floor back there lets you see velvety red fabric fall into a pile by your feet.

You begin to hear her breaths become heavier, and a warm red glow emanates from her position. Suddenly you feel a hot, rigid thickness come between your legs, sliding up against your soaked panties as a throbbing tip meets your stomach between you and the cushion. Hands take hold of your hips, and a warm body presses against your rear.

You moan and grind against the thick member, lowering your drenched cunt onto it as much as you can. It isn't enough, and the Crimson Queen teases you further by sliding the textured phallus back and forth slowly beneath you. Then it leaves. Her hands slide down, taking your panties with them and rubbing your dripping pussy ever so slightly in the process. You moan, agonizing over the denial, before you feel the big, textured cock return to thrust into...