by Adira August
He drizzled the warming oil over the backs of her thighs and the globes of her ass. He ran his hands over her, spreading the oil, stroking her thighs, kneading her buttocks, his thumbs slickening the deep furrow between her cheeks. She blushed and turned her face away from him.
He could see her vulva still swollen, still wet, still deep rose with arousal. As he worked, she moaned with pleasure and, he was sure, with frustration, her hips rotating slightly, lifting when he slid past her cunt, wanting him inside. The oil grew warm and so did her skin, the blood brought to the surface made her glow in the firelight.
When she was aroused but relaxed, used to feeling his palm and fingers on her bottom, he reached into the green bag and placed some items on the blanket in front of her eyes.
"No!" She struggled for a moment at the sight of the lube packets and an item she recognized from the website.
A rose-colored butt-plug.
The five inch long device looked enormous to her. The tip of the silicone plug was blunt and very narrow. But instead of a smooth cone, the body gradually broadened into an uneven trilobed shape. Like three fingers melted together, widening to over an inch in diameter before sloping sharply to a half inch neck attached to a narrow, shallow curve of semi-soft plastic that fit between the cheeks and served as a handle.
“No!” She gasped again.
"Oh, yes," he replied firmly.
She tried to roll, but his upper body pressed into her back. He grabbed a handful of hair so tightly it hurt and held her motionless against the floor with his lips at her ear.
“I’m going to hold you still, open you up, and take my time doing it. You’ll feel every millimeter,” he told her, his voice low and rumbling up from deep in his chest. Her vagina clenched so hard, her hips flexed into the floor.
“You like that idea,” he said, one hand massaging her ass. He leaned back against the sofa front, lifting her onto his lap. He laid her pelvis directly on one bent leg, bracing his foot against the opposite sofa front. Her face lay sideways on the blanket, her tented body shoved her ass up, her cunt and pussy exposed between thighs held open by the spreader bar.
He smoothed and massaged her in this position, pushing against her to make sure she was firmly in position.
He placed his forearm along the slope of her lower back, his hand pressing down on her sacrum to keep her still.
“Oh, God, oh, God, no, no, please, no.” She begged, scrabbling her feet against the floor the few inches they could move. She pushed her face into the blanket in her shame.
With his other hand, he used three fingers to make a leisurely exploration up and down the dark valley between her buttocks, stroking her plump cheeks from the inside, spreading them, lightly massaging her anus.
Her hips began to gyrate subtly, as if being moved by some invisible hand. Her clit swelled and her fingers clutched at air. The plug waited, inches from her eyes. She felt her face flaming.
He ignored her pleas and obeyed her body, instead. He opened lube packets and spread the slippery substance along her furrow liberally, one finger entering her slightly, slowly, again and again, pushing the lubricant into her.
Her sphincter pulsed and heated at his touch. He traced the line between her cheeks down to her tumescent weeping slit, up and down the insides of her pussy lips. He stopped short of her clit.
“You are so hot for this,” he told her, moving back up to her tight ring. He used the pads of two fingers to massage her, and felt the muscle pulse as he did.
“Every time you shift your ass rises, squirms, looking for more.” He slipped one fingertip inside, rotated it around and around, pressing against the inside, massaging the muscle to make it relax. “I’m going to make sure you get it.”
He picked up the plug and ripped the wrapper off with his teeth, keeping his fingertip inside her. He slid the plug into her furrow, rubbing it all around, coating it with lube, letting her feel how slim the end was. His finger inside served as a barrier, so she knew he wouldn’t suddenly plunge anything into her. He wanted her to feel safe.
Anal play was in issue he had to deal with carefully. Avia was highly resistent, her humiliation response so extreme it should have defeated her arousal and made what he was doing now, unthinkable. An abuse of trust.
He could only take the chance, because he'd made her pick a safeword. It allowed her to feel less threatened by the process. Gave her the courage to allow herself to experience this thing she wanted very much, even as the act mortified her. Even now, the back of her neck and shoulders showed bright red with a deep flush of humiliation he knew extended over her chest and face.
But he also knew she was incredibly responsive to anal stimulation. In her Datamine, the orgasm she’d achieved, extraordinary even to him, was a result of the combination of anal and clitoral stimulation.
Tonight he’d give her the things she craved and introduce her to the plug. Forcing her to admit she loved the source of her shame would establish his dominance beyond doubt. But he was negotiating a precarious line, and knew he had to gauge precisely when she’d reached her limit. In this case, if she safeworded, he’d be too late. He might never get her to trust him, again.
But if he did this right for her, it would make her submission a thing to be desired, instead of feared. It would make him the master she longed to surrender to.
He pumped the tip of his finger gently in and out. She pulsed around him, tightening and loosening just slightly. A high thin sound came from her throat.
Then, on the out stroke, he removed a his finger and inserted the narrow end of the plug in its place. He slid it in a half inch, and paused. Rotating it back and forth, he pressed firmly, steadily, as he did.
"Feel it, Avia. So smooth, so good." It slipped in another half inch and she tried to pull away. But she had nowhere to go and he stayed with her easily.
"Hold still," he ordered her, sharply. He leaned over her again, his chest to her back, leaning on his forearm, the hand with the plug resting on her ass, turning the inserted end, rocking a little to make sure she felt it. "Do as you're told. Relax. Push out. Now."
The plug slipped into her a little more. He felt her muscles bunch as she tried to move, but the pressure of his body kept her still.
"There's nothing you can do to stop it. No way to avoid the feel of it, stretching, stroking you. But I will spank you if you disobey me. Then, I'll push it all the way inside you, anyway."
She moaned and her lower legs kicked a little. "And when it's inside, holding you open for me, I'll make you come."
He sat up and opened her cheeks with the fingers of one hand, spreading more lube around the plug, he turned slowly and pressed. He pulled it out and pushed it back, lubing it and her.
It sank into her to the point where the lobes began. She pulled at the restraints, groaned deeply. She pushed at the rug with her toes, trying to move up and away from the plug he rotated slowly.
"Stop fighting. Feel it. The shape, it's so hard, turning, pressing, massaging and - "
She cried out as the plug slipped in a little more and wrenched her hips hard to one side and the other. He snatched up the Hornet -
whoomCRACK!
"Ahh!" Avia shouted as a line of fiery heat streaked across her bare bottom.
"Hold still!" He snapped.
whoomCRACK! … whoomCRACK! … whoomCRACK!
She wailed into the blanket each time the stinger found her quivering cheeks, tears running down her face on the third stroke. He stopped after the fourth and she felt him lean over set to the implement down.
Gasping, she tried not to sob. It made her asshole clench around the plug, and draw it in. It felt so good. It shouldn't … it shouldn't ...
He kept his hand on the bamboo handle. "Do what you're told and do not make me pick up this up again," he said sternly. "Stop. Fighting. Me."
He sat up and traced the lines of heat on her buttocks with one finger.
"These hurt, don't they? … Don't they?"
"Yes, Sir, they hurt," she answered, stifling a sob as he moved from one line to the next, stroking the fire slowly, so slowly.
Oh, fuck! Oh, my God! She fought to stay still, the sensation was … was … her vagina spasmed ... is it pain or … She became inarticulate even in her thoughts, hoping he wouldn't stop. She realized he was talking to her.
"If I have to spank you again, I'll paddle you right on top of these stripes. Four strokes made eight strips of heat. Do you want eight hard strokes with a leather paddle on top of them?" He asked as he traced the lines again, all the while turning and pushing on the plug.
I can't … I can't … oh godgodgod … it's ... the paddle ... on top … She knew if he kept this up she would come - no … no …
"Answer me!" He ordered and the note of danger in his voice pulled her back to reality.
"No," she said, finally. "Please. Please don't paddle me."
"Then submit," he said.
She took a deep breath and tried to breathe normally and relax her sphincter. He'd started kneading her striped cheeks, squeezing her flesh around the plug that now felt huge and was only halfway in.
She was slick from warming oil and lube. The plug turned, massaging flesh between her cheeks as well as her anus, that felt so full already.
She felt every uneven lobe, sliding back and forth, in a rhythm he maintained even while the device sank ever so slightly further into her with each rotation, and she was stretched a little wider with each turn.
It was so … erotic. Her entire vulva ached and throbbed along with the searing hot ring of muscle. She thought she'd faint from the pleasure of it. She thought she'd die from the humiliation.
Helpless. Exposed. Invaded. Controlled. Feeling, feeling this, feeling this shameful thing he was doing …
"No! No, God, stop, stop!" The tone of her words changed, no longer a plea, but an order. She raised her head and tried to turn to see him, to deliver her safeword ...
Now.
Ben held the plug still and slipped his arm underneath her, her cheek against his forearm, hand holding her shoulder, keeping her firmly against his chest.
"You're okay, baby, I have you," he whispered, pressing his lips over her hair and ear, cheek and neck. "You make me crazy with wanting you, Avia. You're so beautiful. Sensual. Responsive. My Avienne. You are the most courageous and insanely sexy woman I've ever known."
He felt her relax just a little as her focus shifted from her body to his words. "You're doing so well." He was careful not to move the plug, but also not to let it slip out of her.
"I'm here to give you everything, anything you want." He ran his lips from her shoulder up to her ear, and whispered, "I know how much you love the feel of this." He took her earlobe between his lips and scraped it gently between his teeth. "And this." He rocked the plug very gently.
She moaned and her hips lifted a bare half-inch. Yes.
"You're allowed to want what you want, Avia. To like what you like. I want you to think about it, fantasize about it. You please me so much when you ask for it, talk about it. When I know you feel it. "
The plug was far enough in that she could feel his fingers against the slickened insides of her cheeks, stroking her there as the lobes massaged the inside of her sphincter.
"You're so good, so beautiful like this," he told her. Carefully, he rocked the plug a little more, turning it very slowly.
"It's my job to give you what you really want, again and again." He bent his fingers slightly to press his knuckles more firmly against her buttocks.
"Feel, Avia. That's your job."
She began to pant, her body relaxing, her hips writhing subtly with the motion.
"My good girl. My perfect girl. Just like that," he praised her.
He let go of her and pulled a cushion from the couch for her to lay her shoulders and head on. All the while moving the plug slowly, steadily into her to it's widest point. He held it there, so she'd experience being opened so far.
She panted and the motion of her hips became more pronounced.
"Oh, God. Please," she said into the cushion.
"Please, what? Tell me," he ordered her. "Tell me what you want."
Her deep humiliation flush raced up her neck. She buried her face in the cushion.
He let go of her shoulder put his hand on the paddle. "Do as you're told," he said sternly.
She whimpered, her eyes on his hand holding the paddle. "It's ... I want … more ..."
Again, he spoke to her in an intimate whisper. "If you want me to do something, you have to say the whole thing. Tell me, exactly, what do you want?"
She shook her head. Her ass lifted and her feet kicked in frustration. He moved his mouth away so she wouldn't feel him smile. He knew his girl. What she was asking for. And would give her all of it.
He sat up and very slowly allowed her clenching anus to pull the plug inside her. She gasped. "Holy - oh - …"
He pulled up on the handle, rocking it, massaging her from the inside. Her lower legs trembled and kicked. "Ohgodohgodohgod …"
"Tell me what you want," he ordered her, making his voice hard and cold. She shook her head again, refusing. He used his other hand to reach for the paddle.
"Eight," he said sharply. "Then we'll see. You're obviously in need of a thoroughly spanked ass."
He snugged the plug handle down between her cheeks. It kept the device from slipping all the way inside and spread her buttocks apart slightly.
"Oh no, no, please, please don't spank me!" She struggled futilely.
His cock throbbed and his sac tightened. He remembered the night before, when he'd warned her ...
“I’ll still discipline you,” he said.
“Across your lap?” She whispered. “Or will you bend me over your desk while I struggle and squirm and beg you not to?”
Across my lap, this time, my sweet, rebellious wretch. He pressed her sacrum down and stroked the cheeks of her ass with the smooth cool face of the paddle as she continued to squirm and beg.
The paddle felt good in his hand, the handle thick and sturdy, the weight substantial but not viciously heavy. It was the exact size of the Victorian hairbrush he'd designed it after. It gave him perfect control.
He shifted around on the floor until both her legs were under the opposite couch up to mid-calf. This would prevent her kicking her lower legs to distract herself from the pain. He would soon provide her a much better means of distraction. But first, she'd feel every stinging stroke.
He ran the paddle over her upper thighs and the edge along the outsides of her labia being careful not to use pressure. From the looks of her soaking, engorged tissues, he could easily make her come.
He wrapped his left arm around her waist, lifting her, snugging her tightly to his side.
"What, what are you doing?" She gasped, hanging down, her head not quite touching the cushion.
He ignored her and settled into position. The back of his forearm, just above the wrist, rested on his own knee, his hand covered her mons, his long elegant fingers stretched along the outside of her hot, wet, pussy.
He set the paddle on the sofa and stroked her with his palm, her bared bottom isolated and controlled, the three inch pink strip of the plug handle just visible between her pale globes.
They wouldn't be pale for long.
The hard column of his erection twitched strongly at the thought. As much as Ben hated delivering coldly calculated disciplinary strokes to a Companion, he loved spanking a woman who wanted it, who craved the feeling of being punished, controlled and humiliated that was jet fuel to her arousal.
He loved that they trusted him with this thing that was so often their most hidden and shameful desire.
He left them just enough physical freedom to struggle, so they could experience their restraint and helplessness. He didn't gag them, so they could plead and cry and he could listen for the changes that meant a pain tolerance limit or orgasm was close. He'd watch their cheeks compress and spring back, trembling u
nder the sheen of perspiration that appeared as warm pink deepened to glowing red, like embers in a fire.
He was excellent at it, at knowing when to push and when to pull back. He could prolong a spanking just below the point of intolerance, for many minutes, right at the very edge of orgasm. He listened carefully as they sobbed and screamed with the pleasure/pain of their exquisite arousal, the blistering fire of the strokes and their joy at finally, finally getting what they wanted.
And every part of the process was as exciting to him as it was to them. Now, he got to do this for his Avienne.
Happily he picked up the paddle and let her feel the smooth side against her cheeks long enough to anticipate how it would feel.
"Why am I punishing you, Avia?"
She squirmed, "Don't, please, I just, I'll tell you when you ask!"
"But you didn't. Bad girls refuse to obey."
The eight short stripes from the stinger were his first targets. He started at the top.
WHAP! ... WHAP!
"Ow! Ow, nooohhh," she jerked with each stroke.
He made his voice hard and cold. "The more you resist, the longer I'll spank you. Hold still."
WHAP! ... WHAP! ... WHAP! ... WHAP!
"Oh, no, no, ah God, it hurts! Sto-ah-ahp!" Her legs kicked up and down but only met the front of the heavy couch.
WHAP! ... WHAP!
Eight pink perfect rectangles bloomed, one on each of the short stripes on her quivering buttocks. He put the paddle down and rubbed them, circling his palm over the patches of heat and pain. She went limp. She didn't realize: this was only the first layer.
Her ass was full and there was room at the sides and bottom for several more paddle strokes. Not to mention where his hand and the plug had been, left unstriped by the Hornet. He picked up the paddle again.
"I told you to hold still. You disobeyed me. Again."
WHAP! WHAP!
She jerked up in surprise. "Ow! Ah, no!"
WHAP! WHAP!
"Ah - ah - ah!" He ignored her and targeted the bottoms of her cheeks.
