Letters to Penthouse XXXII
Page 7
Clearly, the answer was yes, because moments later, she came, covering my cock with her juices. Her quivering pussy was too much to resist, and I spurted into her as well. I pulled out, untied her, and held her close to me, my fingers lingering over the pale marks the rope had left on her sensitive skin. I’m so glad I found a woman like Sonya to explore this side of my passion with, and I can’t wait to try out more ways to please my bondage beauty.
—Mr. Art W., Chattanooga, Tennessee
My Husband Is Completely Under My Control
My husband, James, is completely under my control and has been that way for the last twenty years. I often read about dominant women who top their men by feminizing them: giving them feminine names, shaving them, and dressing them in panties. That’s not for me—I married a man, and I want him to look like a man. Knowing that this strong, powerful person willingly submits to me—not because I’m physically bigger than him, but because my feminine presence demands it—thrills me like nothing else. On our wedding day he formally gave me control of his body—it was written in our vows. He craves that loss of control in all aspects of his life. I’ve been happy to make him my servant and erotic plaything, and together we have a perfect life.
I refer to him as “my boy” when talking to friends and acquaintances. They think it is a term of endearment—and it is, but we know its deeper meaning. He beams with pride when I refer to him as such, usually when he’s kneeling next to me with his head resting on my lap or giving me a foot massage.
I don’t make James remain naked at home, but this doesn’t mean he’s not under my constant control. Although clothed, he is still completely accessible to me at all times. What I’ve done is cut slits in the seat of his underwear and swimsuits. So at any time I can sneak a finger inside or even add a butt plug. I think this makes him feel even more subservient. But most of all, the holes serve as a reminder to him that he is always at my disposal.
I often make James masturbate in front of me, during which I dictate how he should hold himself and how fast or slow he should move his hand. To tease him further, I only allow him to come this way once every other week. I’ll typically have him jerk off until he’s almost at the brink of orgasm, then stop and lick my pussy until I come.
On the days that he does not masturbate, I provide the stimulation. Because James’s balls and ass are my property, I am free to play with them whenever I like. I can spend hours stroking his cock and smooth shaven balls without allowing him to come. Sometimes, if he has been on his best behavior, I give him a little treat. At these times, I will position James on all fours, fuck his ass with a dildo, and jerk him off with my hand. While I’m milking him, I’ll muse aloud that my dildo could be the cock of one of the men in the neighborhood. The mere suggestion gets him off in no time. But, of course, he has to clean up any mess he makes.
The end result of all these rules and regulations is that James is always on edge. I need only touch his cock, and it instantly stiffens and begins to ooze precome. He tells me that when he’s at work, he can sometimes still taste the hint of my pussy on his tongue. That’s because another of our rules is that every single day he has to eat me to orgasm. Sometimes he does it twice a day because he loves to worship my cunt whenever he can. Occasionally, I may put him under the table in the morning to feast on me while I eat my cereal, squirming in delight as he dutifully laps at my sex. Other times, I may order him between my legs while I chat on the phone or watch TV.
I’ve trained James well, so when he goes down on me he does it exactly the way I like it. When we first entered into our relationship, his tongue would just flail around, randomly hitting my pussy in spots that sometimes felt good, but more often fell short of the mark. I had to hold his head steady and direct his tongue to the exact location I wanted. James caught on pretty quickly. Now when he does zoom in on my clit, I go wild and start producing juices like you wouldn’t believe, and this excites him even more.
The first time he dined on my cunt, he started stroking his cock. I knew that pussy worship turned him on, but he had to be stopped. I wanted his undivided attention!
I rose quickly, knocking him aside in the process. He looked up at me guiltily, with his hand still wrapped around his dick. “What do you think you’re doing?” I yelled, swatting at his wayward hand. “Do you want to lose your jerking-off privileges for a whole month?”
“I’m so sorry, Mistress. I promise not to do it again,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides.
“That’s enough for now. Go sit in that chair,” I said, pointing to a wooden dining-room chair. He immediately scurried over and sat, and even though my pussy was aching with arousal, I went to fetch the rope from the closet. Its only purpose is to tie him up, and I only do that when he’s been particularly disobedient.
Silently, I went about securing his ankles to the legs of the chair and his wrists behind his back. He looked so sexy sitting there with his dick standing at attention that I got even more horny. When I lightly dragged one finger from the base of his cock up to the crown, he moaned. I ran my fingertip across my outstretched tongue, moving as slowly as I could, then I flicked my fingernail against one of his erect nipples before taking it between the tips of my fingers.
His moans started getting louder and were distracting me from appreciating his body. I spied a bowl of apples sitting on the table and, suddenly inspired, grabbed one. I pushed it between his parted lips and he obediently bit down on it. “That should shut you up,” I barked. “And don’t you dare drop it.” Leaving his hard cock bobbing in the air, I dragged over an ottoman and perched myself on it in front of him, spreading my legs so he could look at, but not touch, my pussy.
His eyes bulged as I fingered myself, letting my feet rest against the tops of his thighs. I put on a show for him, digging my toes into his legs as I fucked my pussy. Part of me wanted to climb on top of him and ride his cock to orgasm, but I knew that wouldn’t impart a proper obedience lesson, and his training comes first above all else. Besides, teasing him is almost as much fun as fucking him, and there’d be plenty of time for that later.
As I slammed my fingers in and out of my hole, I said, “Are you still going to insist on stroking your cock even when you know that I own it, and I am the only one who can allow it to be touched?”
James’s first response was a garbled moan; I’d almost forgotten about the apple. I leaned forward and took it out, noting the bite marks with satisfaction. I could tell he was aching to come. “I’ve learned my lesson, I promise, Mistress. I will never again think about my own needs until I have made you come as many times as you desire. If you, in your infinite wisdom, choose to make me wait, then I will do so,” he said.
“That’s more like it,” I replied. With a few more thrusts of my fingers inside my slick hole, I came with a loud roar. His eyes were filled with longing. I knew that missing my first orgasm of the night was a big disappointment to him.
I rose from the ottoman, feeling my juices dripping out of my pussy, and untied him. “I’m going to give you one more chance, and if you do it right, you just may be allowed to climax tonight.”
All I can tell you is that his confinement had served James well. He pounced on my cunt, eating me like he’d been starved for days. His tongue pushed inside my pussy, then came out to play with my clit. I knew there was no way he was touching himself because one hand was playing with my nipple and the other was finger-fucking me. He had two fingers shoved in my hole as his tongue worked over my clit. He brought me to one powerful orgasm and kept going until I had another.
Only then did I allow him to jerk off, and, not surprisingly, he came with only a few strokes of his hand. I’m glad he learned his lesson, but I also look forward to his future training. Teaching him how to behave is just so much fun!
—Ms. Colleen F., Grand Rapids, Michigan
She Loves to Play Naughty Student to Her Boyfriend’s Bossy Teacher
One of my favorite things about the fall is getting to brea
k out my schoolgirl uniform from the far reaches of my closet. Nothing gets my boyfriend, Tony, harder than seeing me prance around in the plaid skirt, white button-down shirt, knee socks, and perfect little sneakers, with a lollipop in my mouth and a look of wide-eyed innocence on my face. He loves it because he knows that in real life I’m far from innocent. I love to get into trouble and then have him “punish” me for it, and playing student and teacher is one of our favorite forms of role-play.
Last week, while cleaning our closets, I decided to surprise him when he got home from work. Instead of cooking dinner, I donned the requisite outfit, then set about spreading the rest of the closet’s contents all over our bedroom floor. When he walked through the front door and called out, “Hi, honey,” I didn’t answer; I pretended that I hadn’t heard him. “Hello?” he called wonderingly as he made his way up the stairs. To make sure I got a good spanking, I’d left off my panties and began rolling around on the floor amid all the clothes, which is how Tony found me. “Now, Steph, what on earth do you think you’re doing?”
I winked at him as I lay down on my back, and then spread my legs wide, enough for him to see my freshly shaved pussy. Even from across the room, I could see his cock swelling underneath his jeans. He moved closer to me, already unfastening his belt. “Young lady, you’re supposed to be doing your homework!” he barked, slipping right into the stern teacher role that never fails to send shivers up my spine and tingles to my cunt. He flipped up my skirt so it flopped above my waist. “And no panties—you know we’ve discussed this. There’ll be no more excuses, this time, you’re really going to get it!” he said sternly.
He pulled me up and sat me down on the bed. I was hoping he would take me across his lap and make my ass nice and red with some solid spanking, but he had another plan in mind. “Since you didn’t do as you were told, you’re going to have to go stand in the corner. But first, take off your clothes,” he ordered, and trembling with excitement at the severity of his tone, I did as he commanded. I gave him a puppy-dog look as I unhooked the button of my skirt and let it fall to the floor, then I undid my blouse and dropped it as well.
I was standing before him wearing only a simple white bra, my knee socks and shoes, with my hair done up in two symmetrical pigtails. I licked my lips as I reached my arms behind me to unhook the bra, peeling it off me as sensually as I could to give him a taste of what he was missing the longer he held off from touching me. Even though I knew it had to be an effort, he maintained a straight face as I flung my bra at him. I faced the corner and obediently placed my crossed wrists behind my back.
I was tempted to turn around, but knew that Tony wouldn’t approve, so I faced the wall and tried to ignore the way my pussy ached just from having him watching me stand there naked. I could feel small droplets of my juice dribbling down my thigh, and I was sure that he could smell my arousal. I chanced a very quick peek behind me and saw that he had taken off his clothes, too, and was jerking off. I waited, patient and still, before he finally walked up behind me. “Your grades have been slipping lately because you’ve spent so much time misbehaving. I can’t seem to leave you alone for any length of time without you disobeying the rules, and you know what happens to girls who break the rules.” His voice was thrillingly menacing, and I wasn’t surprised when he suddenly grabbed my hips and slammed his cock into me in one fast thrust without any warning. “That’s right, I’m going to fuck you for as long and hard as I want, then let you go,” he said as he tugged my hair, making my head tilt back. He then let go of my pigtails and pinched my nipples roughly, making the already-hardened buds tighten even more and sending shock waves straight to my cunt.
I love to be fucked roughly, and as Tony kept toying with one nipple, he pulled me back by the hip so that his cock could completely invade my cunt. I shuddered against him as my orgasm rolled through my body, dragging itself out for as long as possible. His cock continued to plumb my pussy’s depths, pushing into me until he finally came, spurting his hot juice inside me as I leaned against the wall for support.
“Don’t think I’m done with you, missy,” he warned, as I collapsed onto the floor in happy, sated exhaustion. He was looking down at me with a severe expression on his face that excited me. And when he sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap, I knew that I was finally going to get my much-needed spanking. I didn’t want to look too eager, so, as befit a naughty schoolgirl, I hung back in the corner. He slapped his thigh harder. “You know what that signal means, young lady,” he chided me. I walked slowly toward him, as if I had not been dreaming of his hand falling across my ass ever since I started rummaging in the closet. I lowered myself across his lap, and he really let me have it!
He started off with a bit of a warm-up, his hand slapping the fleshiest part of my ass with just a hint of harshness. Then he upped the ante, and his strokes got faster and harder so that I barely knew where one ended and the next began. My ass cheeks burned with the heat of his smacks, and my pussy even more so, because each time his hand connected with my flesh, my pussy gave a corresponding pulsation. “You are such a terrible student, Stephanie, sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever pass my class. It’s almost as if you like being spanked like this.” His voice trailed off, as he pulled my ass flesh tight with one hand and smacked it hard with the other, making the reverberations flow right back to my cunt, all the more focused.
My head drooped toward the floor as he kept up this rhythm. I felt his hard cock pressing into my stomach and knew that as soon as he decided I’d learned my lesson, I’d get to feel him inside me once again. I wiggled against his erection, not because I wanted him to stop spanking me, but to show him that I knew and appreciated his stiffness, but he was on to me. “Don’t think you can get out of this by rubbing up against me. Those methods don’t work with me. I know all too well what a naughty girl you are,” he said, punctuating each word with a harsh smack that made my pussy quiver.
Finally, when I was approaching my limit, he stopped, rubbing his hands over my hot cheeks before dipping lower and stroking my sopping pussy. “You didn’t like that at all, did you?” he asked, his voice melting as his fingers sank into my wetness, sliding easily inside me as I tightened automatically around them. He pulled them out and I heard him noisily sucking my juices off his hand before he lifted me up and laid me on my back on the bed. Again, he shoved into me in one quick jolt, but this time without quite as much urgency. In fact, after that initial thrust, he pulled out almost all the way, leaving only the tip of his cock in my cunt while I arched my hips upward in a silent plea.
So this was how he was going to get back at me, by withholding the cock he knew I needed more than anything. Fine. Since he already thought I was a spoiled brat, I reached down and began playing with my clit, pinching the hard nub between my fingers just as he’d squeezed my nipples earlier, enjoying the ripples of arousal that zapped their way inside my cunt. I knew it couldn’t be easy for him to hold himself steady while my pussy clenched around his cockhead, and within mere seconds, he was again shoving into me. He slammed his cock deep inside my pussy, and I could feel the tip of his dick pound against my cervix in a way that had me coming again. He lowered his entire body onto mine, covering me before he nipped at my lower lip, sucking it between his teeth as he erupted inside me, bathing my already-wet pussy with his juice.
Afterward, he set me down at our desk and told me to write “I will be a good girl” one hundred times. I felt the continuing warmth on my ass as it pressed against the wooden seat. As I finished this latest homework assignment, I knew that soon I’d be misbehaving all over again. After all, how could I let my favorite outfit go to waste?
—Ms. Stephanie T., Columbus, Ohio
Paltry Gift Offering on Valentine’s Day Makes His Exacting Mistress Mad
For Valentine’s Day I got the perfect present—all because I failed to get my mistress the perfect present. Let me explain—my mistress, wife, and goddess, Dorothea, is a dream come true. Six feet tall, wit
h long black hair and bright green eyes, she is trim, tan, and powerful. She’s looked after me and directed my life since we first got together. She helped unlock my true submissive side, and the minute we met, I knew she was the one I wanted to worship for the rest of my life. At our wedding I knelt next to her as I said my vows— then later she chained me to our bed and teased me with her pussy for hours.
She knows how much I adore her, but I still show her my affection every chance I get. For Valentine’s Day I’ve always given her the fanciest of chocolates—Godiva. Each year as my income grew, I purchased a treat of greater magnitude. However, this year I dropped the ball and didn’t reach the famed chocolatier until after the shop had closed. I had to resort to my local drugstore for another brand. Even though I bought the largest box I could find, I knew that Mistress Dorothea would be disappointed in me—I just didn’t know how disappointed. I was soon to find out. I also bought her two dozen red roses to try to make up for my transgression, and I arrived home full of apologies.
She was wearing a long, elegant red silk dressing gown and her nails were adorned with red polish. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” I said, bowing as I walked in, then presenting the gifts to her. I’d wrapped my chocolate offering while in the car, and I nervously awaited her reaction as she tore into the paper.
“What’s this?” she asked, tapping the box with one of her extremely long fingernails. She thrust the box at me. “This is not Godiva!” she shouted, letting me know that she was displeased.
“I know, Dorothea, but they were closed by the time I got out of work.”