Spanking

I Met Her at a Christmas Party

I met her at a Christmas party.
My husband and I were attending his companies Christmas party. Arriving at the home of the CEO, you couldn’t help but notice the magnitude of the house. The landscaping was majestic in size…it was incredibly beautiful. Off from the driveway, you couldn’t help but notice the tennis courts, a putting green, hot tubs…swimming pools with fountains and waterfalls. When we first stepped into the home…the first thing that I thought of was, this is the reason you play the lottery. I had to admit, the home was very spacious and elegant.
My husband was a new employee and so, up to this point, we hadn’t done much socializing. Those that were in attendance; I didn’t know a soul. And so, my husband and I began to mingle. Whenever my husband would recognize someone, the introductions were made…in time, I was feeling very comfortable, and the food was simply fantastic!
The title of this story is: I met her at a Christmas party. My husband wasn’t present when the introduction was made. He had excused himself; he had to pee. And so, I recall standing with a glass of wine in my hand…aside from smiling at those that passed me, I was taking in the beauty of the room that I was standing in.
She approached me from behind. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Instinctively, I turned in her direction and I was greeted by a woman that I had never seen before. She was strikingly beautiful…she was wearing exquisitely tailored clothes; I guessed that she was a wife of an executive. I was in the midst of greeting her, introducing myself to her…when suddenly; she put her finger to my lips. I instantly became quiet.
I was immediately stricken by her commanding presence. My mind was searching for a name…had my husband introduced me to her? My mind though, was a blank. “Your husband wanted me to let you know…that for the rest of the weekend; I own you.”
Her voice had been crystal clear…not harsh or cold. She portrayed such confidence. “Where…where is my husband?” I asked.
In one quick moment, my mind began to travel in circles, confusion had settled in…my husband was loaning me out? I started to look in every direction, I felt his presence…it’s as if I could sense that he was watching me.
A few moments after our initial introduction, I came to the understanding that this woman was in upper management…if she had mentioned her name; I quickly forgot it. I remember her saying that she was married…I stood facing her, star-struck, my heart was beating a mile a minute…and I quickly came to the understanding that this woman was quite brilliant…very beautiful…brilliant, married and gorgeous.
“Steven has been planning this moment for you.” My eyes were blinking as she spoke…she knew my husband’s name. “You’re going to serve me in an unconditional way. If you choose to mis-behave, you will be severely punished.” Her long fingernails were painted red…she caressed the side of my face; her fingernails touched my lower lip. “Does Steven own you?”
I could only nod my head up and down. “You will speak to me in a polite and respectful way.” A moment went by and then she said, “I do not like having to repeat a question. Does Steven own you?”
Shaking the cobwebs from my brain, I heard myself say, “Yes Maam…he does.”
“Stay in my shadow for the remainder of the evening.” And with those words spoken, she moved towards the guests that were idly talking together.
I can recall those first few steps…it’s as if a ball and chain had been attached to my ankles. Again, my mind was traveling in circles. I was aware that I was following her…questioning the reasons as to why I was allowing myself to follow her. With every step taken, I was stealing glances, trying to locate my husband…to get some sort of clarification from him. What was her name? What did she mean by ownership? She had mentioned the department that she worked in, and yet; I forgot that bit of information. She spoke to the guests with such ease…as for myself, I remained behind her…it’s as if I became irrelevant; she didn’t introduce me to anyone. Too, no one asked who I was.
As the evening progressed, I remained close to her side…the brilliant factor of her personality was becoming visible. She spoke with such clarity…I sensed that she was very intelligent. At one point during the evening, she pulled me aside to a table filled with people. She knew them all…my heart was filled with such joy; she introduced me to everyone at the table.
Two men who were seated got up and asked if we would like to sit. “Thank you so much for allowing us to join you, we’ve been standing most of the evening,” this mysterious woman said graciously.
“Not at all,” an older grey-haired man responded.
And so, we began to engage ourselves in polite talk. I was trying to do so many things at once. Stealing glances around the room; I was still trying to locate my husband. It was difficult to carry on a conversation without knowing where he was. And of course, this mysterious woman that was seated next to me…the message that she had conveyed to me; I was confused, frustrated and yet, aroused. At one point…I was in mid-sentence talking to someone…this woman reached beneath the table; she gently had placed her hand on my thigh. If it wasn’t for the tablecloth…everyone seated around the table would have notice her bold move. My heart skipped a beat.
Her hand had felt like a jolt of electricity; I involuntarily drew in a brief gasp. Looking in her direction, her demeanor remained calm; she was very much in control. She continued to carry on a conversation with someone across the table. I quickly regained my composure and continued the conversation that I was having. Her hand…her fingernails…at her own leisure, she began to caress my thigh, to include my inner thigh. She was sending shivers up and down my spine.
Was it a subliminal message? It’s as if I knew, or became aware of; she was expecting me to re-position my chair, so her travels would be more convenient. As soon as I had re-positioned myself, her hand began to slowly travel up my thigh…descending towards my quickly dampening pussy. She was teasing me…I was desperately trying to focus on the conversation at hand, and still; I aware of her destination. At long last, the tip of her fingernails were touching, caressing the outer fabric of my panties. I became aware that my legs had parted…and I began to wonder, while I continued on with my conversation…when did I part my legs for her?
My pussy was wet…it became increasingly difficult to have a conversation with anyone. I was aware too, that my breathing had become erratic…I was losing my composure, and I felt as if I had to escape.
“Pardon me. I need to visit the ladies room.” I abruptly stood up from the table. I did so, with her hand up my skirt.
I wasn’t quite out of earshot, when I heard this woman say, “I have to use the ladies room too. Will you excuse me?”
I glanced back, some of the men at the table rose as we left. As she stepped away from the table her eyes locked onto my eyes. She was incredibly beautiful. As she approached me, her voice was stern, “Follow me.” She then walked past me…and like a lost puppy; I followed her.
And so, again I remained in her shadow. She acknowledged a few people as she led me from one room to the next…and I had to assume that she was leading me to the ladies room. We reached a staircase and together, we began the climb to the 2nd floor. Once in the hallway, away from everyone’s view…she grabbed my arm and pulled me close to her. A second later, she kissed me with utterly endearing and overwhelming passion. Her tongue felt soft and warm in my mouth…I had never kissed a woman in this way before. When her arms went around my waist…I felt my tongue entering her mouth; our tongues danced together. She pushed me up against the wall in the hallway…it’s as if she wanted to show me, to remind me…that she was in control.
It’s as if I had lost total control over myself…the logical part of my brain had ceased to operate; I had given myself to her. She then took my hand and she led me further down the hallway…we stepped into a beautiful master bedroom; she quickly led me into the master bathroom. Once the door was closed…she took me into her arms; our tongues began to dance together. Kissing her in such a passionate way…I wasn’t even sure what my sexuality was…I was just being sexual with her. Her hands were running over my body…and my hands began to roam across her body. She massaged my breasts and I felt my nipples harden. Her hands had ventured further south…she reached under my skirt and again, I felt those familiar fingernails against the fabric of my panties.
In one smooth motion, my skirt had been raised over my waist; she cupped my pussy with her hand. There was no denying the fact; my pussy was drenched. I wanted her to touch me…and when she whispered in my ear to lower my panties; I simply obeyed her. With her tongue in my mouth…though I struggled, I was able to lower my panties to my knees. A second later, she thrust a few fingers deep in my pussy; I fell against her.
My back was against the door, she used her body against mine for leverage. She began to steadily fuck my pussy with her fingers…her fingernails were both abrasive and sharp. I was stretching my panties…trying to spread my legs wider for her. As she looked into my eyes, I noticed her passion…and I sensed her power and influence. Removing her fingers from my pussy, she began to tease my clit…at that specific moment; I didn’t care where my husband was. She brought her hand to my lips…instinctively, I opened my mouth and when she placed her fingers against my tongue; I tasted my pussy juice. I lovingly cleaned her fingers…and when she withdrew her fingers from my mouth; she was smiling. No words had to be shared…no instructions had to be given.
Her hand returned to my pussy…her fingers easily found the entrance to my pussy. Once again, she found her rhythm…and again, I fell against her. The speed of this unexpected train of events…and now, I was hoping, wishing to feel the flood gates of my orgasm. I could hear my own moans, my gasps. I was trying so hard, to repress the moans and gasps that were inadvertently escaping from my lips…and then, as if she was aware of my moans; she closed her mouth over mine. My moans were now muted…and her fingers continued to work their magic; she orchestrated a rhythmic dance below my waist. I became aware that I was riding her hand…eager to have her fingers deeper inside me. My body was experiencing pleasure that had never been felt before.
In one quick motion…this woman dropped to her knees. In that quick moment, her lips began to suck my pussy; her tongue was flicking my clit. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t breathe…I was so focused on the blissful sensations being provided to me, from this perfect stranger. This woman was clearly talented in the art of licking a woman’s pussy. My head was against the door, I had managed to free a leg from my panties…it became too much, slowly I began to feel myself reaching my orgasm. As her tongue lapped up the juices from my pussy, as she slowly and lovingly sucked my clit…as her fingers continued to penetrate me…finally, the world burst with light. My juices flowed from my pussy and she remained on her knees…she was aware that I had reached my orgasm…she sucked my clit, perhaps wanting me to know how much she was relishing my taste. My body had settled down, my breathing was returning to its normal self.
She then stood up and kissed me. I could taste my pussy in her mouth. Somehow, that made the taste of her lips even more intoxicating. I once again lost myself in her mouth, as she pressed herself against me. As we kissed, I realized that she had lifted her dress above her waist…in a deliberate way, she removed her panties. When our lips parted, she brought her panties up to my face…I could sense that the crotch of her panties were wet; her scent was intoxicating. When she told me to sniff her panties…I didn’t argue, I brought my face closer to the fabric and inhaled.
“Lie down.” This woman wasn’t asking me. More to the point, she was ordering me to comply with her wishes.
“What?” I asked her. Not immediately complying with her wishes, her demands…she abruptly slapped the right side of my face. My reaction you ask? I stood with my back against the door in utter complete shock. My mouth fell open…my hand quickly covered that area of my face; the sting was paralyzing.
“I can be very gentle. I can also be very harsh.” Her voice was low and yet, not threatening. She had grabbed a fistful of my hair…and she was pulling it just enough, to get my attention. Her instructions had been crystal clear; I surely didn’t want her to slap my face again.
She released my hair; she stood a few steps away from me. “For the next two days, I own your ass. You will learn to be obedient. You will learn not question my authority. You will serve me in whatever capacity that I choose.”
And so, with my back pressed against the door…I felt my body slowly sliding downwards, towards the chilly tiled floor of the bathroom. Part of my brain was wondering if anyone on the other side of the bathroom door had heard my moans. The slap to my face…in my opinion had been loud and explosive. When my ass reached the floor…she moved and I positioned myself so that I was lying flat on my back. The severity of her voice intrigued me…my pussy remained wet, I was nervous and yet, I wasn’t afraid.
“Get on your hands and knees”, she demanded. From lying on my back…I quickly obeyed her. I wasn’t going to question her authority.
“Lift your skirt up over your waist. I want to see your lovely ass.”
Upon hearing her voice, I reacted. I lifted my skirt over my waist…my panties were still dangling around one of my legs. My ass and pussy were on display; I was exposed. I turned my head around when I heard her rummaging through the drawers of the bathroom. What she pulled out from one of the drawers…well, my eyes grew wide; my heart sank. She found a rectangular wooden paddle-type hair brush.
“You have questioned my authority.” Her voice was crystal clear…she was in total control of herself; her emotions. She was lightly tapping the wooden part of the hairbrush against the palm of her hand. “You will learn to listen…you will respond to my voice, to my instructions.” As she spoke, she moved herself to a position of comfort, of leisure; she stood by my side. She was staring at me, looking at me straight in my eyes. When her arm rose high in the air…I turned my face away from her.
I was becoming very concerned. She was going to strike my bare bottom with the hairbrush. No one but my husband had ever spanked me before. I was in the presence of this woman…whom I didn’t know, in a stranger’s master bathroom…and before the hairbrush had ever met my bottom; I felt my eyes begin to water. I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself…I didn’t want anyone downstairs to know that I was being spanked…I didn’t want anyone to hear me cry.
THWACK!
The strength of this woman…the force behind the impact; I fell forward. I wanted to scream…instead, I bit my lip. A shock wave of pain traveled through my entire body. The sound of the hairbrush making contact with my bottom had been loud. Seconds passed and then I felt her presence…her hand by my mouth. She held her panties in her hand…when they were close to my mouth, instinctively and without having to be told; I opened my mouth. My eyes continued to water…and when she stood back up; my teeth clenched onto her panties. I knew that my spanking was going to continue…and I couldn’t help but notice and enjoy the scent of her damp crotch.
The seconds went by, I felt myself shiver in anticipation. The bathroom became very quiet. I was trying to hear if anyone was on the other side of the bathroom door. I again looked over my shoulder…she was looking down at me. She stood tall, confident and appeared to be in total control. My heart skipped a beat, her arm was raised…I looked forward and closed my eyes.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
I bit into this woman’s panties…my arms folded under me; my face was against the tiled bathroom floor. I was exposed and vulnerable…with each swat, I fought not to scream out. If this woman’s intent was to swat the center of my ass, catching both of my ass cheeks…well then, her aim was perfect. I did my best to regain my composure…I became aware of my erratic breathing; I wanted to cry. I wanted my husband to come to my rescue.
She began to lightly tap my ass cheeks with the hairbrush. I then felt the abrasiveness of the bristles…I clenched my ass cheeks; surely I didn’t want to be spanked on that end of the hairbrush. As if she sensed this, I heard her chuckle.
I began to squirm on the tiled floor; her fingernails were tracing the length of my ass crack. I could have stood up. I could have stood up and screamed…ran to safety. Instead, I remained in position and allowed her to touch me. Her fingernail eventually made its way into my ass crack…and in such a gentle approach; her finger came into contact with my anus. My pussy was wet, my whole body was shivering.
And then she asked me a specific question. “What’s the purpose of your asshole?”
I was trying to maintain my composure. I was aware of my heavy breathing. With the question she asked, I knew that she had spoken to my husband. My answer came with ease. “It’s to provide you with pleasure Maam.”
Again, I heard her chuckle. “When we arrive at my home…I’m going to redden your ass and thighs. I’ve been told that your state of mind is more effective, more pleasurable when you’ve been brought to tears.” I was looking over my shoulder while she spoke…while she continued to play with my anus; she smiled in my direction.
She continued to speak with such clarity. “Your mouth, cunt and asshole…I’ve been told that your holes do in fact, serve a purpose. We’ll test that theory.”
A few seconds went by; her finger remained in the crack of my ass; she continued to show me her smile. A few times she had pushed her hand further south, she came into contact with my wet pussy…I hear my moans, her fingers then returned to my anus. She was gentle massaging my darkened hole…teasing the entrance with the tip of her finger. She knew…as did I…that at any moment of her own choosing, she could have pushed her finger into my asshole. My body was responding to her touch…I began to rock my body, wishing that she would finger fuck me; I so badly wanted to feel my orgasm come to life.
“Get on your back.” Her voice was sharp. My selfish thoughts had been interrupted. A moment later, I was lying flat on my back. When she stood over my body, when she began to raise her dress above her waist…I knew what her intentions were. Her pussy and ass were simply beautiful to look at…from my angle, I could tell that she had lined up my face to her holes. She crouched herself in a downward motion so that my mouth was able to lock onto her sex.
I was so eager to taste and lick her pussy. Her salty sweet juices were truly enjoyed…it awakened my mouth. I heard her gasp when I found her button and began to run my tongue quickly back and forth. I had never been exposed to my bi-sexuality…but what was happening seemed to be so natural. I felt her bearing down on me…she was pressing herself into my mouth and she began to move her ass over my face. I simply lost myself in her pussy…it didn’t matter to me that my tongue was making contact with her anus; I wanted to please her. She bore down on me further…seemingly, she was grinding her pussy against my face…I felt her juices on my forehead, my chin…it became apparently clear to me from hearing her moans, her cries of ecstasy; she was close to her orgasm. When she suddenly cried out and her body buckled…I felt her orgasm covering my face.
Abruptly, she stood up…she faced the mirror and in a short period of time, she had totally regained her composure. She had reached for her panties…another quick moment, they were in place, covering and protecting her pussy. “Get yourself together. I will expect you downstairs in a few minutes. You are not allowed to wear your panties.” With those few words, she left me lying on the bathroom floor.
When I got up, I looked over my shoulder…my ass cheeks were normal, hardly any redness was seen. And yet, I remembered what she had said to me. She was going to spank my ass and thighs…she wanted to see my cry. I shivered…something told me that she was very capable in providing discipline to a submissive. My eyes had watered…not out of pain, it was more directed from an emotional release. I desperately was trying to get myself together; to make myself look presentable. My hair…my make-up, it was the best I was able to do…before I stepped out of the bathroom; I stuffed my panties in the bottom of the wastebasket.
I was relieved when I stepped into the hallway…no one was there. When I began to walk down the stairs to the first floor…I felt as if everyone who made eye contact with me, was aware that I had just been mauled by this secretive woman. I immediately began to scan the rooms for my husband. I also kept a watchful eye out for the woman. A server passed me and I quickly reached for a glass of wine. The alcohol was needed…my breath must have smelled like pussy juices…when anyone looked in my direction; I was self-conscious of my appearance. In truth, I had done a miraculously job with my hair and make-up.
Entering one room to the next, at long last, I saw the woman. I seemingly gave up…wondering where my husband was. When I returned to her shadow, she was engaged in a conversation with an older gentleman. She quickly faced me…she looked me up and down; she smiled. She didn’t have to ask me…she knew that I wasn’t wearing my panties. She then continued with her conversation. I was back to feeling irrelevant…no one seemed to care who I was.
At some point during the evening, she whispered in my ear that we would be leaving. She had said a number of goodbye’s to the people who were in attendance…wishing them a happy holiday. With the goodbyes and holiday greetings said…we were alone in her car; she was driving away from this magnificent home. Where were we going? Only she knew the answer to that question. I wanted to say something…anything, but I remained silent. I wanted her to say something…anything, but she remained silent. I felt as if I was being punished with silence.

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“RUNAWAY” Chapter 6 “Discipline”

Follow along as Holly, traveling by the name of Sammi Shepherd, hitchhikes across the country alone facing the dangers any attractive young lady might face and having daydreams and nightmares about the sexually depraved things Roger, her mom’s boyfriend, does to her, while she tries to establish a new identity and life for herself. You can find the other chapters as well as my other stories here: https://www.sexstories.com/profile269763/brokenwing

Lesbian Cuckold

I’ve been having this fantasy for the past few weeks. I figured I’d write it up and see if anyone else found it as hot as I do. This is a bit stylistically different than most things I write, with less exposition and less dialogue. How do you like the difference?

When In Rome – 03

Author’s NotesBack to Callia&Cassius – although no one gets pregnant in this chapter, there IS mention of it. So, fair warning if that’s not your thing.
_____________________________
CHAPTER THREE:
Scene 01: Callia – Sex? No.
Scene 02: Cassius – Sex? Yes.
Scene 03: Callia – Sex? Yes.
_____________________________CALLIA
It was her third, and probably final, bath of the day.
Callia could finally relax. Her day was supposed to be over, and it had been a good day. Every inch of her body had been used, and physically, she was exhausted. But her mind would not stop.
She’d slept in a bed. That had never happened before, at least not in the part of her life that she could remember. She’d woken up with Cassius wrapped tightly around her body. He was kissing her neck while he slept. He confused her beyond her wildest imaginings. Sometimes he did things that were so strange to her, so foreign that she couldn’t wrap her head around it.
First, his kisses. No man had ever kissed her before, but that didn’t confuse her that much. Men liked to have their mouths on her body, and they liked for her to have her mouth on their bodies. So it made logical sense that he could be aroused by their mouths touching. After all, Cassius was aroused by strange things. She accepted that as part of who he was.
Second, the fact that he would be angry about other men touching her. That’s what whores were for after all, but it made sense to some part of her that if men had to get his permission that meant he owned her. Men liked to own beautiful things. Everyone told her she was beautiful. Thus, it made sense that he wanted to own her.
Third on the list of “Confusing Things About Cassius” that she was composing in her head was that he’d wanted her to sleep in his bed. This is where things started to hurt her head. She understood that he’d wanted to use her body when he arrived home, but he could have chained her to his bedpost. He could have told her to sleep on the floor like she was supposed to. It had occurred to her that maybe he had wanted someone to catch her disobeying her father’s rules so that she would be punished, but Cassius wouldn’t have been home to watch her be punished, so what would he gain from that?
Fourth. He hadn’t used her when he came home. He hadn’t even woken her. He must have picked her up and put her in his bed, because she was positive she’d fallen asleep on the floor. She woke up in his bad with his arms around her, and he wasn’t inside her. He hadn’t been inside her – she would have felt it. She would have still felt it in the morning. This is what was really prying at her mind. It seemed strange to her. She couldn’t imagine that being huddled over someone else’s body could have been a comfortable way for him to sleep, or why he would want to share that exquisitely soft bed with anyone. He could have stretched out with all of the warm blankets all to himself, but instead he was rolled half on top of her.
That’s when she realized that she must have done something wrong. She must have moved in her sleep, gotten in his way. Maybe he had placed her somewhere else and she’d moved, and then she interrupted his sleep.. Except he hadn’t been angry in the morning. At least, not at her. He’d been preoccupied, but he’d kept her in bed and fed her from his own plate before sending her to Father.
She sank down under the water as she realized she was wasting her time. Trying to understand her oldest brother was an exercise in futility. The other four were easy to understand. So was father. She knew exactly what it was they wanted from her, and she’d been trained on how to give it to them. She also knew that her life meant nothing to them. Atticus liked to tease her about it while he fucked her, remind her that any day could be the day that one of them killed her. That no one would miss her. When she was younger, that used to make her cry. He’d enjoyed that. But now she was old enough to accept it as a fact of life.
/Do you think I’d let that happen?/
Would Cassius miss her when she was gone? Whenever she remembered his words from that day, her belly did something funny. It felt like, birds and butterflies dancing inside her. It made her smile. She didn’t have a name for that feeling.
Fear was when you thought someone might kill you, or hurt you worse than you could handle. Happiness was the feeling of having a cock inside you. Sadness was when the other slaves in the cells cried themselves to sleep. Pain was when you were being beaten. Sympathy was when you saw someone else hurt or cry.
Those were the only emotions she knew.
She didn’t have a name for what thinking of Cassius made her feel. And there was no one she could ask.
She stood to ask someone to dry her body, but before she could ring the bell, the door swung open. Galla, the old woman in charge of cleaning and prepping the whores for clients looked grim faced.
“Sweetheart.” She paused, and Callia was puzzled at the sympathy apparent in her eyes. “I’m sorry. Cassius has asked for you again. Come.”
The birds and butterflies in her stomach dive bombed, and she turned away from Galla to hide her smile.
Whatever this feeling was, she enjoyed it.
*CASSIUS
“Don’t bother chaining her,” Cassius instructed as he slipped back into his bath. “I don’t want to have to get up again.”
The tub had already had to be rinsed free of blood once. It wasn’t his blood. It had just been that kind of night.
Callia was clean and naked. When her hair was dry it was closer to blonde, but now it was dripping wet and looked far redder in the firelight. It felt down nearly to her tiny little waist, just where he liked to hold when he was fucking her from behind. He could see that she was cold, her slight little body trembled as she knelt by his bed. Her pink nipples were hard and pebbled. She kept her eyes on the floor like a good little girl.
His cock was throbbing, painfully hard under the hot water as he studied her, took inventory of the damage he’d done to her perfect skin. His little sister was far too beautiful to be at the mercy of his cruel hands. He was supposed to look after her. Protect her. He was her fucking brother. Instead he violated her, abused her, fucked her in a way that he knew was a aberration. But when she smiled at him, looked up at him with those big fucking blue-green eyes so full of trust when he spilled inside her.. Being with her felt like the only clean, pure thing he’d ever done.
She was fourteen years younger than he was; though she was old enough (by law) to marry, most good families would keep a girl her age home for a few more years before sending her off to her husband. At least until they were certain she could safely bear a child. The thought crossed his mind, unbidden, and he could feel the jolt of heat in his cock – just from the mere thought of her little tits swelling, her belly growing round with his son. It was something he’d never dreamed of. Something he never knew he wanted.
Something he knew he couldn’t have.
“Come, Callia. Sit by me.”
She kept her eyes lowered as she did, perched on the side of the tub, close enough for him to touch her. He stroked her thigh lazily and she stared into the water. He wondered what she thought when she was quiet, how her mind worked when she waited for him to speak.
“Are you hurt?” She whispered. Her voice was so low he almost didn’t hear her. She shivered as his fingers trailed the inside of his thigh, and he closed his eyes at the her soft little gasp as his fingers brushed her pretty little cunt.
“No, Callie.” He kissed to outside of her thigh. “It wasn’t my blood.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Good.”
“Would it bother you if I was hurt?” He rested his face against her hip, chin on her thigh as he traced light circles on her slit with his finger tips. He could smell her skin, her soap, the lotions his slaves had rubbed on her body. He could smell her sweet little cunt.. His face was so close. Close enough to reach out his tongue and taste her, if that was something he desired. It was something he’d never done. Something he thought submissive. Distasteful. But more than once he’d found himself alone in his bed, fist around the length of his cock imagining what his sister’s cunt would taste like as she came.
“It would bother me very much.” Her voice was thick, and when he looked up at her, her eyes were wet and she was biting her lip. Confusion was apparent on her face, though he had no idea what part of that exchange had confused her. But then, Callia was almost as strange as he was.
She was quiet tonight. Well, she was always quiet. Tonight she was quieter than usual. She stared at him as she bathed him and washed his hair. Her hands slid gracefully over his entire body.. Everywhere except his cock. When she reached for it, he slapped her hand away.
“Not yet.”
When he was done and dried, he pointed to his bed. “Bend over the foot board, Callia.”
She ducked her head and obeyed, positioning her body so that her legs were spread just enough that he could see her tiny, pink cunt. She stood on his tiptoes, her ass presented perfectly. She looked.. Perfect. But not for what he had in mind.
“Feet flat on the floor. Grip the rail so you don’t fall.”
When he had her like her wanted her, tense, unsure, afraid.. He stroked her ass. Softly. He wanted her off guard. When she finally relaxed against his hand and moaned softly at the gentle touch, it was time.
He didn’t hesitate. He heard the sharp crack of flesh against flesh before he felt the hot, stinging pain in his hand. She cried out, in pain as much as surprise, as she sagged against the bed. She whimpered, and his cock jerked when the whimper was followed by a sniffle. He didn’t give her time to catch her breath. The next slap was harder; it just barely overlapped the last. His stomach tightened as he studied her ass, so perfectly round and tight. Her smooth, soft skin was still marred from the bruises he’d left with his cane, and now the left side of her ass was beautifully, painfully red from his hands.
He hit her again. And again. And again. Each time watching the red area get larger. He lost himself in his aching palm, it would probably be bruised tomorrow. He was hitting her too hard, and he knew it but.. Her cries stoked him higher, and when he crouched beside her to see the tears on her cheeks and the pain in her eyes, the part of the world he tried to anchor himself in started to slip away. He was losing his head.
He struck her again. He couldn’t stop. Every single inch of her round little ass was swollen and red. So were her thighs, her hips. In places the red was tinged with purple. He struck her again. This time his hand hit his baby sister’s sweet little cunt and the last modicum of control he’d managed to hold on to fell away when his palm came away wet. He shoved two fingers deep inside her pussy, his eyes open but unseeing when he realized that she was soaked. So fucking wet, for him, after everything he’d done to her. He gripped her waist in his hands, pulled her ass against his hips. He didn’t fuck her. He just pressed himself against her, hearing her breathless cries as his body ground against the raw, swollen welts on her ass.
He could feel the heat pouring off her skin, and he was losing it. He couldn’t see her, didn’t know what he-
“Cal. I need.. Oh Gods, I need to hurt you Callie. You need to go.” His words were frantic against her throat. He knew this feeling, this sick, uncontrollable lust to hurt, to break, to destroy. “When I let go of you, little sister, you run.”
He let go.
And she was gone.
He heard the click of the door, but the way his head was pounding it sounded so quiet.
When he opened his eyes, he realized that it hadn’t been the door at all. It had been his trunk. Callia was on her hands and knees, crawling back toward him. Caught between her lips was his whip. She raised up on her knees in front of him, offering him his favorite toy.. The one he knew she hated the most. Something inside him broke when he looked into her eyes. Pain and fear.. But trust shined through both – along with another emotion he refused to even let himself name in his dreams.
And it was over. The hazy cloud of killing rage, of blood lust, didn’t leave. It never did. But she, Callia, had pushed it back down to manageable. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the whip and studied it as Cal released it from her teeth. He looked down at her, his Callia.. His girl.
He tossed it across the room behind him.
And then his arms were under hers and she was in the air, and in one more second she was spread out on his bed.
He took her feet in his hands, spreading her legs wider before he laid on top of her body. His mouth hit hers and he could taste the salt on her lips from her tears. He kissed her mouth, her sweet little button of a nose and then her neck. He bit at her collarbone until he felt her hips rock up to meet him.
Then he moved lower. He tasted every inch of his little sister’s body, her tight little nipples, the bottoms of her breasts. He trailed his tongue along the curve of her waist and dragged his teeth along her hipbones. His fingers slid between the lips of her little cunt and found her burning hot and soaking wet. He would taste her tonight. He would hold her little hips against him as he made her cum against his mouth.
He worked his fingers deeper into her hole, looking up past her breasts to see her watching him. She looked unnerved, completely unsure of how to respond and he fucking loved it. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he brought his fingers to his lips.
Her lips parted, and then her mouth dropped open as she watched him slowly lick her juices off his fingers. Her hips rocked off the bed, up towards him, but his eyes closed as his lips wrapped around the tip of his finger.
He jerked her legs open, as wide as he could get them, and stared down at her wet little pussy. He kissed the insides of her thighs, his cock pounding at the giggle she sounded when his cheek grazed her thigh.
“Tickles.” She whimpered and he smiled at her. His cheek was rough, he hadn’t shaved. He rubbed his face against her thigh just to feel her body tremble under his. He kissed her round, tiny little clit. It was wet against his lips and he licked them before he trailed his tongue up her slit. He could feel his own hands shaking against her thighs, and he pressed his thumb against her hole as his lips circled her little button. Her hips arched up to meet his face and he let them, savoring the taste of her teenage cunt against his mouth.
She writhed against him, but he held her in place. Pulled her legs over his shoulders and laced his fingers together over her belly, pinning her against the bad and against his mouth as his tongue worked inside her hot little cunt. She grinded against him, the same way she did when he was fucking her and when he heard that strangled cry – the one he’d come to crave, he knew.
He did not taste her gently. He sucked and he bit, slapped the hell out of her sensitive little clit while he fucked her with his tongue. He kissed her tiny little nub with more force than he had ever kissed her mouth while he forced his fingers in her wet, willing hole. And when he heard that cry.. he felt and he tasted his little sister cum, screaming, with his teeth on her clit and his tongue in her cunt. It was better than he’d ever imagined. His cock throbbed painfully, heavy and aching between her legs, and he didn’t -couldn’t- give her the second she needed to recover.
He was deep inside her in one hard, forceful stoke and he couldn’t stop. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her down to meet him as he drove inside her. He could barely see the blue of her eyes. She was begging like she knew how to speak only four words.
“Please fuck me, Cassius.” Over and over, louder. Crying for him, screaming for him as his body pounded hers. He ached for her. Her fingers nails dug into his back and he hoped that he would have marks on his body like she had on hers, reminders of this night. This night, he had almost lost control. He still felt like he was losing control.
And then his teeth were against her ear, and he hated the words threatening to spill from his lips. “Callie, I-“Don’t. Shut your fucking mouth. He wanted.. Her.
He gritted his teeth as he pulled away, leaving her sprawled on the mattress, her red-blonde hair wild around her face, her eyes half closed but focused only on him.
“My… m-my mouth, Cassius. Cum in my mouth.”
He shook his head as he watched his cock pounding inside her raw, pink little pussy. “No.”
No, tonight he would spill inside his sister’s cunt. Never mind the fact that he knew nothing could come from it. The tea his father gave the whores every morning would prevent conception. But tonight he would cum inside her imagining a day when she was free and he was too. He hadn’t realized it yet, but sometime tonight between the men he’d killed and the sister he loved he’d made a decision. She would not die here. And neither would he. Someday.. They would leave this place. Together.
He wrapped his hand around her throat, but softly, and sank on top of her body with his cock still inside her.
His words were quiet and soft against her ear, his balls heavy against her ass. “Would you give me a son, Callia?”
She froze underneath him and stared up at him with wild eyes. “You know – Father gives us -”
His cock jerked inside her. He was so fucking close. “No. I know. Not tonight.”
He kissed the side of her cheek as he barely whispered words that would have them both killed. “If I could get us out of here.. Would you go with me? Would you leave this place with me, me mine? Love me, Callia, bear my children? Would you have me?”
He felt her answer in her body, saw it in her eyes before she even spoke. She pushed her hips against his and her lips brushed his so gently he might have missed it if he weren’t so focused. He saw something flash in her eyes, a determined awareness. Enlightenment.
There was fire in her gaze when she nodded. “Yes.”
A tension he hadn’t known was there lifted and he dug his fingers into her little hips and felt her body tremble with his next stroke. She would cum for him again, this time as he filled her body with his seed.
*CALLIA
It had never felt like this.
She felt like every single part of her body was on fire as he filled her. Every nerve felt raw, and there were tears building in her eyes as she got ready to cum again. The first time had been against his mouth, with his tongue inside her, something no one had done to her since she was a child. Cassius had done it better. And now his cock filled her, rough strokes that ripped her body apart, but made her feel so fucking alive.
His lips covered hers and caught her scream as her body exploded around him. So intense, so intense that she felt herself crying against his cheek. He licked away her tears as his cum spilled inside her cunt. She felt it, felt him jerk inside her. She knew the sound he made, and the way his body tensed and she found herself shivering around him, thinking about the day when he would be hers as much as she was his.
He collapsed on top of her, and she tried to move out from underneath him so he could lay comfortably. His arms snaked around her and pulled her back against his chest. One of his hands snaked down to her still shaking, overly sensitive cunt. He slapped her pussy hard as he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her face.
“I wish you could sleep here.”
She tensed. She should ask what she’d done wrong last time. So she’d never do it again.
“C-” She whimpered against his ongoing assault of her clit. “Cassius?”
“Hmm?” He sounded sleepy, she grinned. A silly grin that she couldn’t exactly explain. She turned to face him, and just stared, smiling as she traced her finger down the bridge of his nose. She shouldn’t have done it. He should have slapped her hand away. But he didn’t. He just watched her through tired eyes. He looked.. Relaxed. It made the butterflies in her belly do funny things.
“When I slept in here, I didn’t mean to crowd you. I didn’t even know I moved.”
He frowned. “You didn’t move, Callie. You slept like a little rock.”
“But..” She scrunched her nose. “You slept on top of me. I thought..”
“When I left, I intended to come home and fuck you until you couldn’t stand up. But it was a long night. When I got home.. I just wanted to touch you while I slept.” He sat up and pulled her close to him, his face so, so serious. “Listen to me Callie.”
She tensed, trepidation building as she watched him.
“Nothing we said tonight can leave this room. You act like everything is normal. You be a good girl, like always.” His fingers brushed over her breasts and he leaned down to suck her nipple into his mouth. When he pulled away he took her face in her hands. “When they want your cunt, you give it to them. You fuck them, you take whatever cock is stuck in your face. You’re the perfect little whore Cal. Do whatever they tell you to do. And I will find a way to get us out of here.”
She nodded, trembling as he pressed his lips to her belly.. She felt her cunt tighten when she replayed his words in her head. Someday, her flat little belly with would be full and swollen with his child. Her tits would be tight and round and he would still fuck her, still fill her cunt with his cock, and everyone who knew them.. Everyone who saw them would know that it was his baby she was carrying. Perhaps they wouldn’t know she was his sister… but that didn’t matter. Not her.
Someday.

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Spanking our Neighbor

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