Pride and Punishment.

Chapter 34.

I drew the cane-tip slowly down from Francis's sweated cleavage, over her Rubenesque belly, lingering for a moment at her navel. I poked at it, and she quaked, and panted with sheer terror. I laughed, but only in my mind, my eyes remained cold, and fixed on her frightened retina; although, I felt, that my clitoris, had swelled, and the tip was peeking out of its prepuce. Its little shaft was so, stiff, and rock-hard, that it propelled the naughty little head out, past the sticky lips of my labial majora. Sticking out for fine weather into a brutal world; seeking a good rubbing, a good brutal rubbing. Ummmmmmm! I do so, so, love--brutal rubbings.

Chapter 35.

I left the navel alone, and continued down, up, and over the stubble of the Mount-of-Venus. She had shaved, but not lately.

Chapter 36.

Eventually, I came to the frenulium. The cross-roads of the labia majora, situated over the prepuce; the nun's head-gear of the reclusive clitoris.

Chapter 37.

I wiggled the tip of the cane, inside the vulva's lips. The creature's entire body convulsed, and the parting of the lips, overcame the stickiness, of her cunt's adhesion! The entire clout, unzipped, from the top to her ass-hole perineum.

Francis, quivered, as her vulva opened, and unfurled her pungent labia, like a cauliflower-head, popping out amid its sparse outer leaves.

She bit into the rubber ball, and groaned, her head rolling around her shoulders, like mercury beads on a polished mirror.

She farted, with fear, and a blast of urine shot out of her urethra. It went high into the air. I shook my head in disappointment, and breathed in the pong of clay from her ass-fart. She would have to pay for that--but that was to come--later!

I stroked her thighs, and belly, and buttocks with the cane, and she shivered, and tried to say something that I totally missed.

I bent over, and parted her dripping labial lips, and sniffed her scent in deeply, a tremendous wave of orgasm dropped me to my knees, and my head automatically rammed into her steaming cunt, my tongue, licked her clean in one huge lapping arc, that ranged from her ass-hole, to the hood of her clitoris, then I withdrew, and opened her up fully. I recoiled my head, and dove into her, like an Olympic spring-board diver, plunging into the wetness of a glassy pool, my long, wet, red tongue, darting directly up her love-tunnel, so deep that I reached her little cervix, at the base of he womb. I lingered there, licking contently at it.

I tasted semen!

I pulled out, and sniffed her bung-hole.

She tried to keep it shut, but I pushed my tongue all the way into it, wriggling it about around in her pooh-pooh chamber.

Again, I detected cumm in her ass-hole.

I pulled my tongue out, and her rose-bud slammed shut. I licked my lips, and shook my head once more.

Francis, had been very, very, naughty! And it pained me to my very core, as I contemplated the duty which I had the privilege and responsibility of carrying out today.

Chapter 38.

I stood up. Our eyes met once more, and she began to writhe around on her back. She was trying to say things, but I couldn't understand, because of the gag in her mouth. She was sweating profusely, and I turned around, facing my back to her. I dropped my head in reverence and asked God, Himself, for forgiveness, of what was about to transpire.

I, said a prayer for Francis, tightened, my grip on the cane, raised my head to the heavens, and slowly turned to face the convicted.

Chapter 39.

There was a brief moment of repose, where I think Francis felt that all of this was just an elaborate set-up designed to frighten her: We both relaxed in the moment, and smiled into each other.

Chapter 40.

The first stroke, was so powerful, that it took both my feet clear-off the ground!

Chapter 41.

Francis, seemed to be in total, denial, of what had just taken place, except for her eyes, that is; they sprang open so wide, and the look of utter disbelief in them, almost touched my very heart.

Moments later, as the bright red welts, rose up like a trough scarring her beautiful buttocks; the bottom of the trough, turning a dark, purple-blue as I watched in horror. The stark realization of her immediate punishment became a reality to her at that singular moment, and she struggled and shivered, and murmured, in such a pitiful manner.

I looked at her, and regretted that she had been so naughty! I laid another two strokes over her fleshy orbs: Her cunt opened up wide, and convulsed chaotically. Shot after shot, squirt after squirt, of lovely colored piss blasted into the air, acing high above us, and her ass-hole opened up in a fright, wide, and gaping. A huge log shot out of it in an instant, as if it was shoved out on an industrial conveyer-belt. It landed heavily, with a dull thud at my feet.

I picked it up, and inspected it closely. I sniffed at it, and tasted a morsel from the pointed end. It was coated with thick, creamy white cumm, and I knew it had come out of some bastard's cock, that had ripped its way up, into her dirt-hole, shooting multiple hot loads, safely, over her shit.

The little bitch was guilty after all! And that infuriated Megan.

She tossed the log aside. It hit the opposite wall, and stuck there, fast, sliding slowly to the ground under force its own weight, like a giant brown slug, leaving a tell-tail, meandering, track behind its route.

Chapter 42.

Megan blanked-out, as she beat and beat and beat Francis's buttocks without mercy!

Finally, exhausted, still wielding the shattered remnant of a broken cane, dangling in the iron-grip of her righteous hand, Megan came back into the world of consequences, and was horrified at what she saw.

Chapter 43.

Francis, had bitten clean through the rubber ball gag, and had passed-out sometime during the punishment.

Megan removed the severed gag-ball, and cried, for the purged soul of her victim.

Megan kissed Francis, and licked the foam from her beautiful lips. She caressed, her unconscious, beautiful face, and bathed her shut eyes with the flat of her tongue. She drank beads of sweat from the troubled brow, an wept bitterly for her baby.

Megan worried: Her little baby was out cold.

There was only one thing for it! Megan rummaged through her tote-bag, that she always carries with her when she is called upon to do such--exorcisms.

She grabbed her double-horned strap-on, and threw it onto herself, pulling the leather belts extra tight around her ample buttocks, and turgid thighs.

She took the bottle of lube, and squirted half of it into Francis's ass-hole.

Megan put fingers into Francis's cunt, and decided that it was wet enough.

Megan, located both ends of her double-dong, directly over the center-holes of the orifices.

She slowly revolved her hips, and the two horns, simultaneously entered the caves--all the way up to the fucking hilt; wetting the leather straps that held the contraption to her athletic form, itself.

Megan started in, with long slow thrusts. Gathering momentum with each and every stroke.

The blood from the beaten buttocks rolled freely down her rigid thighs, disappearing into the gauntlet of her boots.

"Come on baby...Ohh! Please come back to me," pleaded Megan of the limp body of her punishment.

Chapter 44.

Megan changed gears, and got into a cruising speed, that was nothing less than--blistering!

"Come on baby, come back to Mamma!" screamed Megan.

Megan was fucking both of Francis's holes with, a vengeance. She was bent over the job-holes, both her hands gripping tight on Francis's breasts, her long sharp talons digging deep into the outer rims of the girl's breasts. At least half a dozen trails of thick red blood, started to run from the where her nails had dug through the skin into the flesh of the tits. Megan had to bring her baby back into the world of the living, even if that meant tearing the tits clean of her baby's chest, and eating them, hot, fresh and steaming, in a sacrificial gesture to a jealous God!

Megan was using her baby's tits to help pull and thrust her into Francis' holes, deeper and deeper, faster and faster--harder and harder!

Francis's breasts were turning blue, but Megan didn't care! She was prepared to rip them off, and have them for lunch, if that was what it was going to take to save her little baby!

The pace was so accelerated, and the heat of the friction, from the dongs battering into Francis' holes, built up so much, that the entire surrounding atmosphere, was filled with the pungent smell of steaming cunt-juice, and evaporated ass-hole mud, tainted with spent semen.

"Come on you little cunt! Come back to Mommy! Mommy loves her little fucking baby! Come on you fucking little whore. Come to MOMMY!"

Suddenly, the was a flutter of eyelids.

And Francis gasped a deep breath .

"Come to Mommy baby! Oh, fucking Yes, baby! Come to your loving Mother! Yes, that's a good little girl...Yes...!" I pleaded.

"Oh, Mommy...I'm so, so, sorry. Mommy I love you so, so, much. I was a very naughty little girl, licking cunts and blowing cocks, and drinking cummm, and sucking dirty-little rose-bud holes, but I loved it so, so, much! I just couldn't stop, myself Mommy! Oh, fuck my holes Mommy, I think...I think...I'm going to come Mommy! Oh, I'm coming Mommy...Yes, yes, Yes...! Fuck my holes Mommy you fucking whore, fuck me! Fuck me like the fucking whore I really am Mommy, you fucking whore Bitch, Oh Mommy I'm fucking cumming, you fucking cunt Mommy, I fucking love you, you fucking cunt Mommy!" screamed Francis.

Chapter 45.

Francis came, in both her holes.

And Megan was off-the-hook.

Francis assumed all of the blame, and Megan collapsed exhausted, yet relieved, to her knees.

Francis finished her orgasm alone on her back, squirting fountains of golden rain over her panting Mommy's head, with log after log shooting out from the gaping hole of her ring; landing in neat steaming piles amid Megan's exhausted lap.

Megan barely gathered enough strength to untie Francis, and they hugged, and kissed, and promised to be good to each other in the future.

Megan left Francis laying there on the punishment table, staring blankly at the ceiling, She was scared and shaken, but nevertheless---content.

Megan staggered out of the games room dragging her ass-behind her, into the hallway bathroom.

She had to freshen-up. It was getting late, and the kids would be home from school shortly--and hubby was due in from work in half an hour. Megan had to wash her cunt and ass-hole really well: Tonight is Tuesday, and Tuesdays are always ass-night with hubby. The telly sucks on Tuesday nights, so Megan usually turns in early, wearing her skimpiest, and cheapest, black lace panties and a matching wire cupped bra to keep her tits in one place during the pounding. Half an hour before she turns-in for the night, she visit's the bathroom, and secretly packs her ring with a turkey-baster full of ass-lube.

Megan usually makes some paltry excuse, and retires to the bedroom. Hubby isn't far behind, and she pretends that he woke her up when he comes in. After he finishes in the bathroom, he turns off the light and slips under the sheets like a rattle snake slipping into the hen house, seeking the terrified hen's eggs; seeking her terrified eggs.

Megan can feel his-intent-humming in the deafening silence of their room. Just before he reaches over to take her in his rough powerful hands, she jumps out of bed and bounds into the bathroom conveniently leaving the door open, in a feigned sleepy forgetful haze of a somnambulist's night pee-run, forcing out a little tinkle of golden rain, tearing off [too much] toilet tissue to sop-up the sweet rain held in her mature vulva-bush.

She used to shave for years, but who cares in the end, so she let her bush flourish, and it was a full panty-full: She adored looking at her bush in the closet-mirror, it was enormous, and wild! She would spend a fair part of her Tuesday, sitting naked on the edge of her bed, looking at herself in the mirror and rubbing her stiff clitoris.

She would be very careful to only take herself up to the front-door of coming. No, she refused to come; she would always save her orgasm for the night. But her cunt would drip with her sweet treacle, and she would use her fingers, a hairdryer and the palm of her hand, to spread her love-tunnel juice over the long clout-hairs... Drying the syrup, as she administered it, layer upon sweet layer, and drying it thick, and sweet, and lovely...ensuring that her hubby would be held there feeding from her for hours that night, in the darkness of their television-deprived night.

In the morning her vent and ring would be sucked cleaner than a chicken's wishbone after Sunday dinner...and she would sleep until noon, or more even, the next day. Why, she just loved it!

Her ass-hole's rosebud got very hairy too, and it was a bit of a pain to keep clean, but hubby never complained, and after a good night's groping her ass-hole was as clean as a whistle in the morning too.

Megan would leave her ring moderately, to heavily soiled purposely, just as a barometer of how much hubby loved her. He was an animal between her legs when he loved her, and a usless article there when he didn't!

After she tinkled, she would pretend to bend over, close; leaning into the mirror squeezing a blackhead out of her nose. She would have her legs open, and she arched her back as far as she could. She would have her black-lace skimpy panties hiked up eccentrically with one cheek of her ass hanging out more than the other, and the dark, mysterious, valley of her buttocks; seen to be in the very process of gobbling-up her pheromone-scented gusset; interjecting into the very thoughts of an interested on-looker, that they too, could be--gobbled-up, down there, between her Aphrodite legs; between her steamy-pearly clouds of Heaven; amid her stinking gates of Hell.

She thrust her rump out, and up; The cheeks of her ass pulled open, by sheer thigh-muscle control, whilst her sphincter kept slammed shut tight, holding in the turkey baster load of ass-lube, that she knew she would need, up-stream.

Megan would catch out of the corner of her eye in the mirror, a pair of jockey shorts being tossed out from under the sheets. Then she knew the situation had become ripe. She would turn off the bathroom light and jump under the sheets. Bend over and give her hubby a little peck on the cheek, and say,

"Nite-nite honey... I made you sandwiches for work tomorrow. They are on the top shelf of the fridge. Don't forget to take them. We have to budget this month."

Megan would turn around onto her side, and lay in the fetal position, her gigantic buttock orbs bent tight only inches from her hubby.

She could feel her hubby quietly vibrating rigid in the bed; his breathing deepening. He was silently masturbating next to her, trying hard not to disturb her.

Megan would slowly snake her hand down, between her legs. Pull her gusset over to one side of her dripping vulva. She would take her middle finger and secretly slip it between her slippery lips, blindly finding her rock-hard clitoris poking fully out of its prepuce. Megan would rub its swollen little head, mutely gasping; her breathing synchronizing with her masturbating hubby's.

Megan would take her index, and ring finger, and dig then deep into her labial wings, then open her fingers wide. At the same time she would sharply constrict her tummy muscles, expelling a puff of pussy air deep from her vaginal canal, into the trapped atmosphere under the sheets. She would close her vulva, and gradually move her fingers up to her lips, and paint them with her cunt juice, and then slowly mover her fingers to deposit her scent behind her ears and trail off down her neck, finishing-up by licking her fingers clean...her breath now stinking of her pussy-hole.

She would move, as if innocently shuffling in her sleep, causing her trapped pussy fragrance to waft up out from under the sheets.

Megan caught the first sniff of her cunt, and knew her hubby must have too.

She heard him groaning, and he shifted onto his side and spooned her.

She felt his enormous member stretching down between her legs a good 12 inches. Hubby was very large down there! That's why she married him in the first place.

As he kissed her neck, he tasted and smelled her cunt cream that she had quietly spread there, and he stiffened, and moaned.

Megan pushed his hand away, and said softly,

"Not tonight honey...I love you though..."

She then pushed her huge buttocks hard into his groin.

An instant later, Megan's hubby exploded!

He rose up onto his knees! The bed clothes were thrown off of the both of them. He let out a guttural roar that frightened her to the core. His arms were raised up to the ceiling, and his head thrown back. In the moonlight his huge cock, stuck out bending upwards rigid and swollen.

He came down onto her with his hands, roughly grabbing her leg and raising it up and over, so that he rolled her over onto her back, with him kneeling between her open legs.

He grabbed her panties and tore them to shreds, as if they were made from black rice-paper, tossing the remnants away into the darkness of the room! He took hold of her bra and ripped it completely in half, front and back. The two disbanded cups going in opposite directions off over her arms, leaving her breasts flying around wildly on her upper torso. She shrieked, in real terror, and shot a powerful jet of piss out of her pee-pee-hole that hit him directly in the belly button. It was her only defense against him.

He growled, and laid his hand on her blond hair, grabbing a handful it with so much force, that he yanked both her head and upper body clean off the bed.

He was driven mad with desire, and lust. His senses were absolutely perfectly spiked, and he rammed his erect cock, in one decisive action, solidly into her head...! Using her skull as nothing more than a container to shove the bulging head of his cock into. Dragging at her hair with one hand, the other hand squeezing tightly around her thin, long, slender neck; shaking her on the shaft of his rigid rod.

He threw her back off of the end of his cock with so much vehemence that she bounced several times on the surface of the bed.

He pounced on her ravaging her neck, and lips and tongue, kneading her tits pinching her rock-hard nipples. She was gasping, he was just getting started---and she knew it. The anticipation of what was about to come and made her piss everywhere over him and herself and over the bed...everywhere! He grunted, and raised her clean off the bed, holding her upside down with one hand, grasped around one of her ankle.

He beat her buttocks with the other hand, so hard and long that the tears flowed out of her eyes over her forehead and dripped through her hair tickling her scalp.

He had ceased to be her husband! He was a beast now, a brute: a wild feral animal.

She was sobbing.

He threw her back onto the bed without as much as a second thought.

He flung himself between her legs, and with two thrusts was balls-deep up her.

She writhed on her back in utter ecstasy and carnal bliss, as he thundered into her; totally oblivious of who or what he was thundering into!

The time had come. He had to unload. And it was Tuesday, and Tuesday always meant ass-day. She knew it, and she accepted it.

He withdrew out of her steaming vulva. Flipped her over onto her knees, and pushed her head hard down into the mattress.

He whipped her buttocks front and back handed again, way passed after she begged him to stop. She sobbed bitterly!

He stopped, for his own reasons, not hers, then lined-up his throbbing shaft's knob at the center of her kaleidoscopic rosebud dirt-hole.