Whip Me

by Cathryn Cooper

  Then he strikes my cheek with one of the gloves again. Pain that only heightens my enjoyment. The whole of my body is one aching mass. I don’t know how much more of it I can take, but I want it to continue, fast and frantic, for ever.

  And he doesn’t let up until every fibre in me is quaking.

  ‘Had enough now?’

  He gives a few final thrusts with his finger as I gasp and moan, my body helpless with ecstasy. I couldn’t hang on to the bike now if I tried.

  Then, abruptly, he pulls his finger out and rolls me onto my side. I collapse onto the ground, my body awash with the ebbing spasms of pleasure still rippling through me.

  ‘Is this game reciprocal?’ he asks after a moment or two.

  My eyes sweep over the criss-cross laces at his flies. There’s a definite bump in his leather trousers. A wicked grin creeps across my face as I start to imagine all the things still in store for me. I knew my prospects were exciting the moment I set eyes on that bike.

  In answer I ease my clingy, black, jersey top over my head and drop it on the floor beside me. A low whistle of appreciation tells me he likes what he sees.

  ‘You know, you look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, but really you’re as guilty as sin.’ The yellow flecks in his eyes flicker like sparks.

  He pinches open the hooks to my bra and pulls the lacy padding from me. The straps slip from my shoulders and stroke my skin the way I’m yearning for him to do. All over. Every inch of me.

  He pulls on the tasselled gloves and begins to trace little circles round my nipples with one of the fingers. The leather’s cool and coarse. Not a soft, silky caress. More the serrated tongue of a whip strap. And I love it.

  The palms of his gloved hands then close over my breasts, gently kneading, like they did to my bottom.

  How I wish he’d do that again.

  Soon I’m aching once more with pent-up desire. I begin to fiddle with his lace-up flies. I really dig this gear: all the tassels, its smell. Then, when I can’t take any more of the kneading (and waiting), I ease open the thongs, prising the criss-cross strips of leather wider apart until the snow white material of his underpants becomes visible.

  For a moment or two I wonder whether to wriggle the leather trousers down over his hips and slip him out of his snowy briefs, or whether this biker’s uniform doesn’t offer more enticing possibilities. Far beyond those permitted by normal clothing.

  I don’t deliberate for long. Tantalised by still unimagined prospects, I reach between the laces and feel my way inside the pouch of his Y-fronts where his cock snuggles. For a few moments I fondle its already rigid shaft, then carefully extricate it from the confines of the fabric. I pull the laces tight again, so the trousers once more sit close at his hips, his cocking protruding from the crotch.

  I take it in my hands. Then my lips close round the glistening skin and I let my tongue play with its sensitive end, wallowing in the smell of leather that surrounds him and seems to be his own.

  When I come up, there’s a devilish grin on his face.

  If he wants, this is only the beginning. And when we’ve finished, after all I’ve got in mind, I’ll deserve a good spanking.

  Layla Raises Cane

  by Virginia Beech

  I lie in the darkness of my bedroom, trying to sleep, but unable to relax enough to drift off. I think of the strange twists in my life before my career as a front page supermodel and dominatrix took off.

  Meeting up with Harry was one of the stranger episodes. It was to change my hitherto vanilla lifestyle and set me on the road as an enthusiastic dominatrix. At the time I was the Third Floor fashion model at an exclusive Knightsbridge department store near

  Sloane Street in London’s West End. It was a spring-board job modelling the store’s Womenswear. It kept me, paying my half of the rent for the basement pad I shared with Hyacinth around the corner in

  Lowndes Square until we got ourselves a top agent and hit it big on the catwalks. On that chilly day in February, Hyacinth was away on a photo shoot and I was on my way out of the store after a long day modelling outfits from the Spring collection. Passing through ‘Lingerie’, on my way to the elevator, I noticed this tall, distinguished-looking gentleman sporting a Gieves blazer and Household Cavalry tie. He was standing at the boutique panty bar, presumably buying something sexy for a lady friend. That’s a lucky girl who has him put them on her and then take them off again, I thought idly. I heard him ask the sales assistant whether she had something in oyster satin, trimmed with lace. Classy tastes too, I thought.

  While she was busy dealing with his request, I saw him snaffle a pair of lace-trimmed silk knickers from a pile on the counter and hurriedly stuff them into his blazer pocket. I stopped and pretended to look at some retro-seamed stockings at the next counter. He bought and paid for the knickers the assistant showed him with plastic and, thinking that nobody had noticed his ‘Buy One – Get One Free’ gambit, he made his way to the lift.

  I followed him, intending to point him out to the store detective at the entrance. But then I had a much better idea. I shadowed him out of the store into Knightsbridge and as soon as he was out on the street, I was right behind his sorry ass… his ass was mine! He was a good-looking, sexy bastard, with fair hair, beautiful blue/grey eyes, and was doubtless a ‘high goal’ demon on the polo field at Windsor. I stepped up to his side, flashed the store ID tag on the inside of my jacket, and said, ‘Sir, you will have to come me. I saw you steal the knickers you have in your blazer pocket!’

  He was thoroughly demoralised at that and looked at me so pathetically that I was almost sorry for being the unfeeling bitch I am! He said quietly and calmly, ‘Isn’t there something we can work out about this? I am a Guards officer and if this gets out I’ll be cashiered.’

  ‘You should have thought of that when you decided to rip off our store! We know your name from your credit card so just come quietly with me, please!’

  I took him by the arm and before he had time to think I had whisked him round the corner into Lowndes Square and down the steps to my basement flat. He looked so bleak and pathetic, and I was giggling inside. He was obviously a closet transvestite who just loved the sensual feel of fine fabrics next to his skin – and, hell, I understood that!

  I guided him into my pad, closed the door, locked it and turned to him with a grin of satisfaction. He was appraising me, with his blue eyes twinkling now. Then I was all over him.

  He was laughing with relief and looking at me with admiration and growing lust!

  ‘That was a cruel way to make my acquaintance!’

  ‘I haven’t made your acquaintance yet, but, in just a few moments, I’m going to!’ I said, as I gave his lip a playful nip. He laughed out loud then and kissed my mouth like he knew what the fuck he was doing! I liked it! I knew I would, though.

  I led the way to my bedroom, peeling off my coat as I went. He followed me in and I turned to face him. I was up real close and personal, breathing in the heady fragrance of his cologne as I loosened his Guards tie and eased him out of his jacket.

  ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack on the street in front of the store! What made you think of pretending to be a store detective like that, you little bitch!’

  ‘I had a ‘Go to Hell’ attitude overtake me when I saw you stealing these knickers,’ I replied, jerking them out of his blazer pocket and dangling them enticingly beneath his nose.

  ‘I was going to scare the pants off you for the fun of it, then I saw how edibly handsome you are and decided to play you and reel you in for my pleasure instead. Now, strip and do exactly as I tell you! Let’s see what you look like in this pretty pair of knickers that you stole.’

  I enjoyed the view as he stripped off his clothes. He was in marvellous shape and I could see by his ramrod military erection, which rose stiffly to attention under my appreciative gaze, that I was going to have a wonderful night instead of eating alone. I looked at this Adonis, whose name I didn’t know and thoug
ht that he was more shocked now than when I tricked him into coming here with me. He put on the sheer black silky panties with lace trim that barely covered his throbbing manhood and turned toward me. I reached for the silky bulge of his rock hard cock and stroked it through the straining fabric. I could feel his cock quiver as I ran my lacquered nail up and down its heated shaft. He bent to kiss my mouth, giving me his tongue to suck. And I sucked it! God, did I suck it!

  I kicked off my Jimmy Choo heels, unzipped my vintage fashion skirt and let it slither to the floor. ‘Undress me!’ I commanded huskily. ‘Undress me slowly!’

  He started on the buttons of my blouse, kissing me between each opened button, breathing in the bloom of my body fragrance as he progressed, until he could ease it off my shoulders. Letting it drop to the floor, he ran his hands lingeringly down over the contours of my satin slip, caressing the curves of my breasts, hips and buttocks through the sensual material before easing it off my shoulders to pull it down, his hands brushing my nipples through my lace bra as they passed. He knelt and dragged the slip over my hips and tummy and then his hands were lingering on my inner thighs and he was lowering my knickers an inch at a time until he had fully exposed my pussy to his hungry gaze.

  I was getting really hot from his delicate touch on my skin and the way that this scene was unfolding. I knew that my cunt was wet and I was anticipating the coming events with great relish as he nuzzled his face against the landing strip of my Brazilian. I felt his tongue flick all too briefly at my cunt lips before he rose, took me into his arms and kissed me a crushing kiss filled with terrible need.

  I knew it had been a while for this handsome stranger with a penchant for naughty knickers. He had his hands on my breasts now, almost frantic with desire for me and I wanted to keep him that way, self-serving bitch that I am!

  I caressed his hot meat some more beneath the straining tautness of those becomingly feminine knickers and felt the pre-cum drops through the thin fabric. I delved into the silk and slowly lifted his hard cock and balls out from their tight prison. He was quite ready to melt in my hand. I would have him melt in my mouth later! He was sooooooooooo near to exploding! He had that glazed look that foretold his approaching ecstasy.

  I looked into those half-closed eyes and said sternly, ‘Not yet, my sexy slave! You come when I tell you, and not a second before!’ I gave his rampant cock a disciplinary slap. ‘This is my game and you play by my rules. It’s ‘Ladies First’ in my household. Your mistress decides when and how she wants her cumcream delivered. Is that understood?’

  He looked at me hungrily but, with his balls firmly clasped in my hot little hand, he was in no position to argue. He nodded and breathed a rasping, ‘Yes!’

  With that I put his hand on my pussy. ‘Find your mistress’s priceless pearl!’

  His finger parted my pussy lips, found my clit and began to rub it, massaging it into excited hardness. My legs began to quiver and I was almost riding his finger now. He was making me feel really good. He frigged me harder as my clit stiffened and I moaned to his rhythmic movement. I wanted to call out his name, but I didn’t know what the fuck it was! Right then ‘Slave’ came to mind.

  ‘Deeper now, Slave!’ I panted. ‘Harder! Faster!’

  He began to finger fuck my hot hole, kissing my neck and then sucking and nibbling at my excitedly erect nipples. My legs were giving way and I backed onto the bed before I collapsed, pulling him down on top of me.

  ‘Keep frigging and suck my tits!’ I managed to gasp.

  ‘Yes! Yes! You’re on it!’ My pantie thief had me on fire now; ready to come as he kept up the pace, frigging my clit with his thumb and finger-fucking my cunt with his other fingers. I felt my climax rising deep within my belly. I arched my body, clawing his back with my nails as the ecstasy overtook me. I was coming in racking waves that pounded on the shores of my body.

  I took his tongue, sucking hard and moaning as each quivering wave pulsed through me. Then, as the dying waves of ecstasy ebbed from the beach of my body, came the moment of serene euphoria; the blissful calm after the storm. He held me close, whispering adoring filth in my ear. And I loved every fucking word!

  I moved him off me and I looked at his precious penis. It stood so patiently at attention, ready to perform its duty at my command. I wrapped my fingers possessively around its warm hardness.

  ‘You ready for Mistress’s hot juicy cunt?’ I said, leaning close to inspect its finer attributes and speaking directly to it. I shook it up and down as if it was saying ‘Yes, Mistress!’ What a magnificent beast I was about to tame! ‘A cock in the hand is worth two in the bush,’ as dear Mummy would always say after one too many gins!

  I looked it in the eye. ‘I have a really deep desire for you. And it looks like you’ve got a good head for business,’ I murmured, caressing the throbbing blood-engorged glans appreciatively, ‘I am offering you entry to “The Gates of Heaven”, but your owner must storm those gates and fuck me like he’s never fucked before! And he must tell me he worships me and talk dirty to me, because I just love that when I’ve got a big hard cock like you inside me.’

  Fancy panties looked at me. ‘Shut up, my proud filly and lie back! I shall ride you to the gallop!’ He opened my legs and put them back to gaze at my Venus mound’s expensive Brazilian topiary. Then he aimed his lance and thrust. I grunted as it glided slickly into the inviting wetness of my tight hole. Its hot girth filled me. He began fucking me slowly, thrusting harder, deeper with each stroke, screwing me to the bed. I was loving it so much, rising up to meet each powerful thrust, my legs wrapped around him, urging him ever deeper inside my belly.

  I was in a wild, fucking frenzy and hardly conscious of anything but our heated bodies and the exquisite slippery friction between us as he spurred me onward to the gallop. He was straining, grunting and moaning in his headlong, sweat-bathed ecstasy.

  I pounded on his back with my fists, clawed him in my delirium. ‘God, yes! I love it, fuck me, baby! I want it! I want it all! Give it to me! Love me! Make me come, darling! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!’ I screamed in a rictus of orgasmic ecstasy.

  And he FUCKED ME! God, I had never been so fucked in my life! He was to die for and I knew right there and then, that this was the lover of my dreams! I knew I would never be fucked this royally again. We came at the same instant; me screaming and kissing his mouth and sucking his tongue and he hammering me as he spurted his hot love cream into my guts, his balls slapping my ass.

  Finally he was spent and collapsed on top of me. We lay there in mutual euphoric stupor, his head upon my shoulder, his breast heaving from his headlong charge into my breach.

  I opened my eyes and looked at the sweet face I reckoned I now owned. ‘Who the hell are you? Where have you been all my life?’

  He rolled off of me to lie beside me, slipped my head onto his strong arm and looked adoringly into my eyes.

  ‘Hello, Precious Pussy! I’m Harry, and I’m now your devoted slave!’

  I looked searchingly into the blue of his beautiful eyes and knew that this was the beginning of a very long affair; a journey to the furthest reaches of sensual discovery, as I moulded this superb rider to my exotic whims. But there was just one little problem that I needed to address first!

  ‘Harry, darling, you have been a bad bad boy, nicking naughty knickers! What if someone else had seen you? You would now be at Knightsbridge police station having your fingerprints taken and making a statement before they called your C.O. at Knightsbridge Barracks. Your Mistress is going to teach you a memorable lesson, so you are never tempted to pinch panties again. In future, when you lust for lingerie to clothe your handsome body, you will call me and I shall be right here to dress you in the silks and satins you so lust after. And after I’ve dressed you as my adoring slut and you have donned my frilly knickers, I shall take them down and whip that lovely ass of yours until you come! How does that sound? Do we have a deal, darling?’

  I felt a quiver of excitement course through
Harry’s body at the thought of my domination. I was quivering at the thought too!

  ‘Now, get off my bed. I haven’t finished with you yet!’

  I patted that muscled rump of his. ‘Put those black silk knickers back on, sweetcheeks, and then get into my satin slip and lace-top thigh-highs. I want to see what a rampant shemale looks like when dressed to please her mistress!’

  Shock, surprise and delight passed in rapid succession over Harry’s face as my commands registered with him. He began to dress silently, donning my fine lingerie with evident delight. He really looked quite fetching dressed like that. He turned to admire himself in my full-length mirror, running his hands down over his satin-clad body. I saw a nascent bulge manifest itself beneath the satin folds of my borrowed slip as his dormant cock returned to life in the excitement of the occasion. I doubt if this was the first time Harry had admired himself in such finery. Now, at last, he had an appreciative and supportive mistress to share his secret feminine fantasies.

  It was time for slave to submit to mistress and accept a first painful lesson in obedience. I donned my black kimono and led him by the hand to the kitchen and stood him in front of the heavy pine table.

  ‘Bend over the table and put your arms out in front of you! I am going to cane you. It will be your first lesson in obedience to my will and a reminder never to steal naughty knickers again.’

  I picked up a whippy length of rattan which I had bought at the Saturday Pimlico Farmers’ Market to support my potted tomato plant.

  A look of disbelief came over Harry’s face as my words sank home. But, dressed like that, he was in no position to quibble over mistress’s decision. I tapped the table with my improvised cane and motioned to him to position himself as ordered.

  I found the sight of his humiliating position bent over the table most pleasing. I felt a wetness between my legs at the exciting prospect of caning an inviting ass for the very first time. It would be a profane waste for this cane to prop up a humble tomato plant after its sacred use in the first bonding of a Domina and her slave.