Little Fuckpet Punished

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She learns not to touch herself without Master's permission.
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(**An apology to my patient Professor**)

I was a bad girl.

My master told me not to come, but I just couldn't help myself. Sometimes I get so horny thinking about him, my pussy just begs me to touch it. You can't blame a girl when she has such a sexy master, can you?

Apparently, Master can. Which is why I'm here in the room, alone and frustrated. When he came home and saw the long, pink vibrator I had been using, he wasn't mad, just disappointed. Such a simple directive, he had said, but maybe not for a slut like me.

I hate disappointing him, so when he told me to go and crawl into the bedroom, I did without hesitation. When I got there, I knelt and waited for him, thighs spread wide, hands behind my back, and tits thrust out. My gaze rested on the floor and it seemed like hours until he walked back into the room. With him, he brought the wooden chair from the kitchen. He patted the seat of the chair, and I crawled over to it and sat down, still not able to bring my gaze to his.

"Put your hands on the arms and spread your legs," he ordered, and I did as directed. He quickly and efficiently tied my forearms and my shins to the chair. There were no lingering caresses or loving touches as there often are. His hands were cool and impersonal as he bound my limbs. After checking to make sure the rope wasn't too tight, he proceeded to rope a braid into my hair and tied the rope to a lower rung on the back of the chair, pulling my head back at an angle, leaving me staring at the ceiling. A ring gag was inserted next, with the gag attachment that reached far enough into my mouth that I had to concentrate to breathe properly, but not so much that I was fighting my gag reflex.

Master left the room and came back with the traitorous vibrator in his hand. He slid it under my pussy so it was nestled in my slit and then wrapped more rope around my hips and thighs, ensuring I wouldn't be able to lift myself off the vibrator. Smiling slightly, he turned it on to a medium setting, patted my thigh, and left the room.

I've been here now for what seems like hours, though I'm sure it's only been a half hour or so. He knows my body better than I do and he knew exactly which setting to leave it at so that I wouldn't be able to ignore it, but nor would I be able to get off. Staring up at the ceiling, I can't focus on anything but the insistent buzzing between my thighs. I've tried everything: lifting my pussy off of the vibrator, sinking all of my weight on to it, squirming and rocking my hips to get more friction, but nothing. He has tied me so expertly, any motion I can manage only frustrates me more. Even if I could move, the discomfort in my neck with my head bent back is enough to stop me from quite reaching that point of no return. So I sit here, waiting, my chest heaving, my pussy leaking. Waiting for him to come back and release me.

I'm there for another fifteen minutes before I hear footsteps come into the room. Immediately, I start to whine, pleading with him and hoping he'll understand how sorry I am. A quick slap to my breast silences me.

"You know better than to speak before being spoken to, whore. Especially begging when you know you've earned this punishment." He caresses my breast and circles back to the nipple, clamping it between his fingers, crushing the tender bud, and slowly starts to pull my breast away from my body. The pain is almost unbearable and everything in me wants to cry and shout, but I don't. He's right, I do know better. He's trained me better than this. Leaning over my face, he looks at me with discerning eyes. He watches me as he twists my nipple, torqueing my entire breast with his punishing grip. I stay silent, trying to plead with my eyes, to push every emotion towards him, focusing on how much I am sorry to have displeased him. He must see something, because he nods shortly and releases my breast. All of the blood rushes back into the tender teat and somehow the pain is worse than before, but it's almost as if more blood rushes to my pussy as well, because it starts throbbing with renewed vigor, the pain having re-sensitized it after an hour on the same vibration setting.

Hand kneading my breast, Master continues to look at me, drinking in my pain as my breast throbs in time to my cunt. I can't help the groan that escapes me this time. He smiles for the first time since he walked into the house this evening, and steps back out of view. Behind me, he pulls the cock portion of the ring out of my mouth. He leans over and lays his lips on my exposed neck, nipping and sucking as he drags his fingernails across my rib cage and down my belly, stopping at my belly button. He shoves his finger into the shallow hole hard, swirling it in a way that somehow connects it to my clit. I try to squirm, either away or towards him, I'm not sure, but I'm too tightly bound to get much of anywhere. He slaps my stomach and I still once more.

"Yes, my slut, you will take what I give you, no more, no less, won't you? Will you be a good little fuckpet?"

I nod as much as I can and his face comes into view again. This time he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth in to mine, still held open by the ring gag. My mouth is too dry after the gag to swallow, and I'm helpless to do anything but feel his saliva slowly slide down my throat. "That's what I thought," he says as he steps once again out of view, gently removing the ring gag and releasing my braid as he goes.

Whip in hand, he comes in front of me. "Are you ready to beg, slut? Remember, your orgasms are mine to give you, and you. will. not. get. more." Each of his finally words are punctuated by a blow from his crop to my tits.

Over and over he slaps my tits with the crop, and my breasts begin to heat up. I start to arch my back towards him, pushing my tits ups to receive the crop, relishing in the pain as it ignites my pussy. He notices the change from pain to pleasure in his beating and stops before I can hit subspace, that happy place where everything thing is hazy and wonderful. Quickly, he leaves the room, and I can hear him rummaging in the kitchen, the fridge door opening and closing. My stomach drops, because I know what he is getting, and, soon enough, he comes back in to the room with a glass full of ice.

I hate ice play, and Master knows this. I can only hope that he uses the ice on my breasts, and not in my pussy. I can't stand ice in my tight, little hole. My lips press into a thin line, holding back a stream of begging. I know better than to speak during a punishment until I absolutely cannot stand it anymore, and I am far from this point, despite my trepidation.

Reading my face, he says that I need a little reminder of who really owns this body. Setting the glass down, he picks up the crop again, turns the vibrator off completely, and begins to crop my tits again. Hard. No longer are the hits little sparks of pain flowing down to my clit. These hurt. Are meant to hurt. My tits are on fire and I begin to whimper and cry out with every stroke. Again and again he hits me, and I watch his face as he focuses on his work. His beautiful muscles ripple as he pulls his arm back with every measured stroke, and his eyes flicker from my tits to my face. Despite the pain, I am reassured by this, knowing he is watching to make sure he doesn't give me more than I can take.

Just as the pain begins to morph in to pleasure again, he stops, picking up the ice. I try to shrink back against the chair, but there is nowhere for me to hide. Master smirks as he sees my attempt to evade his control. Saying nothing, he takes a pieces of ice in each hand and pushed them firmly into each nipple, ignoring the rest of my burning tit meat. I scream and he looks directly into my eyes.

"Please, please, Master, please stop," I break, knowing this will only egg him on.

He smirks slightly, "Now, now, my little whore, you know better than that. Your body is mine and I will stop when I want to, not when you do." I bite my lip against the torrent of words begging him to take the ice off. More than I want the ice off, I want to please him: for Master to be proud of his little slut.

"Beg me to put the ice up your sweet cunt, pet."

I can't. He knows I can't. I whimper up at him and beg him once again with my eyes, telling him how sorry I am. "Very well, pet. Let me know when you are ready to come. Remember, you must ask permission, or you're not going to like the consequences. I am clear?"

"Yes, Sir." He nods and reaches down, turning the vibrator up to full power, on a pulsating mode. Three hard hums and a buzz. Over and over. My pussy, already so wet, begins to leak again, and I can feel the moisture building up. Frustrated, I try to move my hips, but they are still fastened to the chair. Master picks up the crop again, and tells me to sing out when I need to come, but not a moment before.

He returns to the medium hits with the crops. Synchronizing his hits with the vibrator, he strikes: one, two, three, pause. Tit, tit, thigh. Thigh, thigh, tit. Tit, thigh, thigh. Thigh, thigh, pussy. Pussy, pussy, pussy.

It's the crop on my cunt lips that does it. Already each hit was spiraling in my core, coiling me tighter and tighter. The hits to my pussy light that ball on fire and I can't think about anything beyond being allowed to cum: "Please, please, Master, let your little fuckwhore cum... please, Sir... I'll be so good from now on, just please let me come." The blows from the crop stop, and my master kneels in front of me. My dazed gaze meets his as he gently strokes my stomach, hand drifting towards my pussy, where I ache, ache, ache...

"Beg for the ice in your pussy, cunt." I shake my head, my begs turning in to whimpers. He moves his head down in from of my cunt and gently blows a stream of air right on my clit and I shriek. I break.

"Put the ice in my pussy. Please, Master, use your little whore's body. Please, please, please, do whatever you want. Just let your poor little fuckpet cum."

"Since you asked so nicely, my pet. Wait for my count." Still kneeling, Master retrieves the glass of ice.

"One," as he slips one cube of intensely cold ice.

"Two," another.

"Three," one more, and my hot aching cunt is clenching around the coldness. The contrast is too intense, and it feels like the ice is burning me from the inside out.

Rising, Master takes my face in his hands. My every fibre is focused on him, waiting for him to command my body. He reached down with one hand, and still holding my sweat-covered face in his other, forcing me to meet his gaze, he turns the vibrators to a constant, hard speed.

Bringing his face closer to mine, my entire field of vision filled with his face, he whispers, "Cum, my little slut. Cum for your master."

And I do.

Again and again, all the coils in my stomach break loose and the fire in my belly erupts, consuming me. All of my muscles tense, and I arch in the chair, all the while staring in to my master's eyes. Panting, I relax, only to be swept up in another uncontrollable orgasm. My periphery fades out until all I see are Master's eyes, his lust and love for me. "Keep coming, pet," he says more firmly.

I shake my head. I can't. No more. My body can't take it. But Master knows better, and once again my muscles tense and strain, by pussy clenching around the ice that has mostly melted. It contracts over and over around a phantom cock, and I imagine my master's thick cock pushing in to me, and I shatter again.

My master kneels down again and turns off the vibrator. Panting, I sob in relief, my tender clit too tender for more stimulation. With loving hands, he unwinds the rope around my hips and I am free to move my torso around again. I relax, waiting for him to release the rest of my body... but he never does. After a quiet moment, he says, "Beg me to cum again."

"No, Sir, please, I can't. My pussy can't take anymore."

He gently pulls my hips to the front of the chair, rolling my pussy up and open to him. Another quiet moment, and he gently drags his finger up and down my moist pussy. Gently, he circles my clit, soothing it. I relax further, thinking he will let me go. I should have known better.

Suddenly, he grasps my clit between two fingers and pinches hard. My entire body stiffens and I try to pull away, only for him to tighten his grip further.

"Excuse me, little fuckpet, but whose pussy is this?"

"Yours, Master." I gasp. I can't get the words out fast enough, "This pussy is yours, Master."

"That's what I thought." He releases my clit only to slap my pussy, three times in quick succession, and my entire lower half begins throbbing again. "Now, my sweet whore, beg me to let you cum again."

"Yes, Sir. Please. Please let your little slut cum again."

"Good girl."

And he lowers his face to my dripping cunt. Gently licking and suckling, first at the lips, working his way into my centre. He opens his mouth wide and somehow suctions my entire pussy, gently sucking at the engorged flesh. Slowly, he closes his mouth until his attentions are focused on my sore, oversensitive clit. He pushes a finger, two fingers, into my cunt, warming up what was left cold by the ice. He curves his fingers towards my front, and rhythmically pushes them in and out in time to his sucking my clit. Slowly and inevitably, I edge up towards one final orgasm. Faster and faster he pushes and sucks. Over and over, then his tongue starts to flick over my clit, and my entire body begins to shake. A third finger is shoved into my pussy and I can feel my master literally holding my pussy in his hands, owning it. And with that, I go over the edge, my body exploding into an uncontrollable orgasm.

My vision grows dim, and my body slumps in the chair. Lethargic, I watch as my beautiful master unwinds the ropes around my body. He touches my body in long relaxed strokes, murmuring to me what a good girl I am. I blink up at him as he strokes my hair and looks in to my eyes.

"Will you forget who owns your orgasms again, my pet?" He asks.

"No, Master."

"Good. Now be a good girl and thank your master."

So I slide off of the chair, on to my knees, and begin to thank my master properly, like a good little whore should.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

I strongly dislike this kind if D/s dynamic, but it is a well written piece. I appreciate the evidence of a positive relationship you showed throught.

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