by Sarah Steel
Ann stood up and turned, modestly covering her blonde pubic bush with cupped hands.
'Up onto the couch. Face down.'
Easing herself up onto the black leather couch, Ann flattened her nakedness down, thrilling to the sensation of crushing her breasts and pubic mound into the dark hide.
'I wear special gloves for the administration of the massage,' Petra explained, peeling off the transparent plastic gloves, binning them fastidiously and donning a pair of studded leather gauntlets. Ann, peeping curiously, saw that the tiny silver studs ran along the length of the fingers and across the inner palms. She clamped her thighs together expectantly, juicing quite freely now where her slit kissed the leather.
'Head down and remain perfectly still,' Petra instructed. 'It is the isodynamic principle that I employ,' she explained, sweeping her right hand fleetingly down Ann's dimpled spine, bringing it to rest upon the soft, upturned buttocks. 'The studs encounter and eliminate subcutaneous fat globules, if applied very firmly.' The gauntlet slid over the swell of the furthest cheek down onto Ann's outer thigh. Petra squeezed slightly, then gently punished the captive flesh.
Slowly, methodically, inch by naked inch, the stern, unsmiling strawberry-blonde applied the increasingly fierce massage, concentrating chiefly upon the bare buttocks before her. Ann mewed slightly, mouthing her delight into the leather at her lips.
The studded gauntlet paused, then the fingers suddenly gripped, taloning the fleshy buttock in its grasp. The second buttock was seized, and it too surrendered to the painful treatment. The rhythmical squeezing of the helpless cheeks caused the cleft to gape. Ann writhed, burning with shame at the thought of her anal rosebud being exposed to the ruthless gaze of the grey-eyed blonde.
Deeper down inside her spinning brain, another flame flickered, warming her gently with the dark thrill of knowing that Petra was utterly in control of her nakedness. Utterly in control, and inspecting her bare bottom intimately. The flame inside Ann's brain began to blaze.
'Your diet needs special attention and willpower, Ann,' Petra laid in a slightly less severe tone, using her client's name for the first time in their encounter.
Ann slumped into the leather, crushing her heavy breasts down into its polished sheen. The sound of her name from Petra's lips as the strawberry-blonde punished - yes, punished - her bare bottom caused a silver bubble to emerge from Ann's labia.
'I shall be very disappointed if you do not make a supreme effort. Very disappointed. You won't disappoint me, will you?' Both studded gauntlets squeezed viciously hard.
'No,' Ann squealed, threshing in a spasm of agony. 'No.'
'I am so very pleased to hear that,' Petra whispered. A studded fingertip swiftly raked the velvet ribbon of Ann's hot cleft. 'Should you fail to observe the strict regime, I shall be forced to take certain measures.' The studded fingertip tap-tapped at Ann's tight little sphincter, 'Yes,' Petra murmured, 'I shall take certain measures.'
After Ann had hurriedly dressed, snapping on her bra and panties with trembling hands, and had departed, the strawberry-blonde slowly drew her gauntlets off with her teeth. Bending to inspect the spot where Ann's wet pussy had pressed against the leather couch, the German smiled, her grey eyes widening as they gazed down at the tell-tale stain.
Ann knew that her next appointment at the de Stael clinic was not scheduled til next week. Three days - and three turbulent, dream-filled nights - after her first visit, she phoned.
The receptionist remained maddeningly polite but firm - as if reading from a script - as she countered Ann's insistence. No, it was not possible. Petra was quite strict on that point. No, Ann would have to wait until next week. 'I'm sorry,' the receptionist continued unapologetically. 'Petra makes the rules and is very firm.
Ann tossed her mobile down onto her work desk angrily. She ached to hear the German's crisp voice, burned to feel the dominant touch of the strawberry-blonde upon her naked flesh. Work broke into her moody trance. Before her, three screens were flickering red. The franc was easing rapidly. Ann sold all her short-term holding and left her desk. Hazel, wrestling with her francs, looked up inquiringly.
'Got to pee,' Ann lied, explaining her trip to the loo.
Inside the cubicle, the words of the receptionist at the de Stael clinic echoed in Ann's head. Petra was quite strict. Ann yanked up her skirt and thumbed down her black tights. Petra made the rules and was very firm. Scrabbling to peel down her panties, she thrust her soft buttocks up against the cold white tiles and splayed her thighs.
Petra. Strict. Very firm. Ann's fingertips flew down to her pussy and teased the sticky lips apart. The heat of her cleft clouded the cold white tiles as she ground her buttocks slowly against their hard sheen. Wet fingertips now teasingly punished her urgent slit. Petra. Strict and firm. Ann's thumbtips strummed her clitoris savagely.
Petra. The studded gauntlets, dominantly squeezing her bare buttocks. Closing her eyes tightly, Ann conjured up images of her visit to the clinic - and the sensations of being ordered to strip naked and then examined by the strawberry-blonde. Arching violently as her climax gathered inside her, Ann remembered being face down on the leather couch, tonguing the dark hide as the cruel gauntlets punished her bare buttocks.
Another memory flooded in, taking Ann completely by surprise.
The dorm prefect at her boarding school. Yes. Ann examined the fantasy greedily, thrilling to this buried treasure unearthed from her mind after seven - no, eight years. The dorm prefect. They had both shared a jealous 'pash' for Emily, the economics mistress. Yes. And the dorm prefect had taken her revenge.
Ann succumbed to her climax as it imploded down at the base of her tightened belly. She saw it all clearly. That Thursday afternoon in the deserted dorm. The dorm prefect had entered to discover Ann applying pink lipstick - strictly forbidden at the school. Pouncing, the prefect had exercised her legitimate right to punish, seizing the opportunity to unleash her jealous fury across Ann's navy-knickered buttocks with a slipper. Halfway through the harsh slippering, the dorm prefect had - against the rules - dragged down Ann's navy knickers and reddened the defenceless cheeks of her squealing victim mercilessly.
Ann started to come again, the wet heat pulsing and scalding the three fingers wedged up inside her tightly muscled warmth. Behind closed eyes, with her bottom hammering into the white tiles, she relished and rejoiced in the exquisite memory of dominance and discipline, crying out aloud at the sudden memory of having her bare bottom spanked severely with the leather-soled slipper.
Ann, her brain melting as her third - then fourth - orgasm ravished her, tried to recall what the dorm prefect had looked like. She willed the half-forgotten images to return, then saw them as clearly as a sharp black and white snapshot.
She saw the dorm, with its long line of lonely beds. Rain was splattering against the high windows. The green blanket on the bed. Her snow-white teddy bear. The blue uniform of the dorm prefect, the red-and-yellow tie, pleated skirt, white socks and polished black shoes. Her ponytail swishing as she bent down to scoop up the cruel slipper. Ann now across the prefect's thighs, thighs firm and bronzed on the hockey field. Warm thighs. A strong feral whiff of female arousal. Her skirt being flipped up to expose her tight knickers. The crack of the slipper. The sweet pain. Her blue knickers being savagely peeled down. Her hot bottom exposed, wriggling under the swish, swipe of the burning slipper strokes. Ann remembered being punished on the bare bottom by the jealous dorm prefect. Remembered squealing aloud, begging for the beating to cease. Remembered twisting round to see her chastiser through tear-filled eyes.
Ann froze - her fingers still thrust up her contracting pussy - as one image superimposed itself upon another. She staggered lightly and moaned, her hot juice dripping down onto her panties stretched between her quivering knees. In the dorm, on the bed, spanking the bare bottom - images which had detonated five furious orgasms - was Petra, the stern strawberry blonde.
Pulling up her panties and tights, after drying herself wi
th toilet paper, Ann unlocked the cubicle door and headed for the sink to rinse her sticky fingers.
Hazel, applying a dab of 'emergency slap', eyed Ann intently.
'Nice pee?' she murmured laconically.
Eleven minutes before the appointed hour, Ann sat by the onyx desk. The receptionist, head bowed, tapped her keyboard sporadically, occasionally looking up to gaze into the ghostly blue screen. Ann silently recounted her forbidden calories, cursing every one. She squirmed in her chrome chair, squirmed with both delicious expectation and dread. She had broken the strict diet regime several times. Cake had been taken to bed along with her print-outs of the latest Tiger economies analysis. Low-fat sandwiches had been avoided at lunchtimes in preference for baps bulging with mayo. Lean fish or veal suppers had been skipped guiltily replaced by fattening risotto or juicy thick steaks.
The receptionist motioned Ann to go in. In the cubicle, Ann stripped before being instructed to do so. Under Petra's grey eyes, the naked City girl stepped up onto the scales.
'Weight gain,' the German pronounced tersely. 'Put on that robe and sit down over there.'
Somewhat conscious of an anti-climax, of her sense of disappointment, Ann obeyed. She had, she quietly acknowledged, hoped to be thrilled by a sterner response. She had been wicked - yes, very wicked - eating all those forbidden foods. And wickedness must be punished.
Petra produced a mini-cassette and clicked it on.
'Speak into it here.' She pointed to the small mike. 'I want you to confess. To confess openly to all the forbidden things you have eaten in the past week.'
Ann took a deep breath. Naming each day of the previous week, she whispered her sins softly into the whirring machine. When she had finished, Petra picked up the cassette and clicked the rewind, her thumb poised upon the play button.
'Disrobe, Ann,' the strawberry blonde instructed.
The white towelling slithered to the floor. Ann, utterly naked, stepped aside.
'I am very disappointed. And I did warn you that I would be forced to take—'
'Certain measures,' Ann whispered huskily. 'Yes. I was warned.'
'Mount,' Petra ordered, dominantly slapping the leather couch. Ann obeyed instantly, her tongue thickening in her dry mouth. This is it, she thought excitedly. The moment has come. Petra is going to punish me.
Petra stood alongside the couch, a whippy length of red rubber enema tubing gripped tightly in her right hand. Ann eyed it with dismay, shuddering as she imagined the probing rubber up between her buttocks, pumping warm water into her distended colon.
'When you eat inappropriately, Ann, the resultant fat tends to accumulate here—' she whipped the tubing down across Ann's upper thighs, 'and here—' the rubber lashed against the curve of the nude's hip, 'and here.' Petra whipped the red enema tube harshly down across the bare, upturned bottom.
Ann grunted softly and nestled her pubis into the leather. Dipping her tummy a fraction, she unconsciously eased her hips from the hide, offering her buttocks up to the lash. Petra trailed the tip of the tube across the striped cheeks, teasing their smooth curves.
'I am going to discipline you, Ann. I believe it is the only way to teach you to exercise the self-control weight-loss requires. With such self-discipline, in time, you will be able to avoid indulging in those pleasures which only lead to pain.'
Ann squeezed her buttocks expectantly, desiring yet dreading the impending lash. Instead of the snap-crack of the whippy rubber, she was startled to hear the sound of her own voice. Petra had switched the cassette on.
'Each time I hear you confess to eating a forbidden item, I am going to whip your naughty, fat bottom. Understand?'
'Yes,' Ann hissed, her tone more eager than penitent.
'The punishment will tone and tighten your buttocks and burn away several hundred calories.'
'I understand.'
Ann's voice from the tape announced the consumption a chocolate fudge cake.
'Forbidden,' Petra snarled. Swish, swipe. The red rubber whipped down, kissing the creamy cheeks and leaving a redder line of pain across their quivering globes. Ann squealed, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the sides of the black leather couch.
'Fried bacon and sausages,' her voice announced as her taped confession continued.
'Forbidden,' replied Petra briskly, whipping the rubber tubing down once more to lash the bare buttocks savagely.
For six and a half long, agonising minutes, Ann's detailed account of her wilful disobedience to the strict diet filled the air. No less than nine times did Petra have to bring the rubber down to swipe-stripe the nude's ravished cheeks.
The following week, a fault in the steam room left all the cubicles moist and sweltering. Petra had stripped down to a black mesh body stocking, stretched tightly over her firm breasts and supple thighs. Ann glimpsed the pert little nipples straining at the black fabric. Her own buds rose up in response. The heat became oppressive. By the time Ann had been stripped naked, weighed and then intimately inspected, Petra had discarded the mesh bodystocking, and turned to her client wearing only a stern smile
'Good. Only a slight weight gain. I think we had better deal with that at once. Come here, over my knee.'
Ann, thrilling to the stern command, bowed her head and eased herself across the thighs of the seated strawberry-blonde. As her naked breasts brushed against Petra's thighs, her nipples grazed their mulberry peaks into the German's oiled flesh. Ann shivered pleasurably. A firm, controlling hand alighted at her nape; a firmer hand began to massage her proffered buttocks. Ann snuggled down, eager for her bottom to be deliciously blistered.
'I am going to spank you, Ann. Spank you very hard. I will not cease until you have achieved orgasm,' the weight-specialist pronounced in a clinical tone. 'Orgasm is an excellent method of reducing surplus weight. All this wicked eating of yours is, I believe, symptomatic of a deeper craving. It is that craving I must seek to satisfy. But more of that, later,' she whispered, palming the smooth buttocks urgently. 'We can discuss the matter in detail after your punishment.'
Digging her toes into the tiled floor, Ann squirmed until her rounded cheeks were poised perfectly for their pain. Submitting her buttocks up to her chastiser, she squeezed her thighs together until her cleft became a thin flesh-crease.
'Relax your buttocks. I want them soft for the spanking,' Petra commanded, then warned her naked victim to remain absolutely silent throughout the pain of punishment and the subsequent pleasure of her orgasm.
The spanking commenced: eight staccato slaps of firm palm down across soft flesh. Despite Petra's stern injunction, the brisk onslaught tore a soft scream from Ann's lips. The pace of the punishment slackened, the spanking being delivered more slowly but more stingingly. Ann writhed and squirmed, now anxious to escape the measured spanks raining crimson pain upon her helpless bottom, but Petra's grip tightened at the nape of the nude's neck and her spanking hand cracked down with increased ferocity.
Jerking her hips across her punisher's lap, Ann surrendered to the mounting sensation unfolding in both her belly and in her brain, the bittersweet delight of submitting utterly to the dominant strawberry-blonde. Crying out gently, Ann acknowledged the butterfly of pleasure-in-pain as it opened up its wings in her belly and fluttered down the walls of her spasming muscles below.
Spank. The ringing, stinging blow cracked down, rocketing her into a sudden release of liquid ecstasy. Juicing freely - Petra's thighs became slippery - Ann moaned and came.
'Excellent,' the German hissed, sensing the wet heat on her flesh. She paused, her spanking hand hovering above the cheeks rippling in orgasm.
Spank. Spank. Spank. Just as the first climax ebbed, Petra cracked her hand down harshly, relaunching her victim into a fresh paroxysm.
'Now it is time to speak more intimately of those cravings, Ann. Cravings we must attempt to satisfy once and for all.'
Ann froze as she felt Petra's fingertip worrying her sticky anal whorl. Sinking down across the smooth, wet thigh
s, she unclenched her cheeks. The fingertip probed dominantly, slipping into Ann's heat. The finger between her cheeks launched Ann into another orgasm. Her third climax. Its removal, two minutes later, triggered off her fourth.
As Ann screamed softly, Petra bent her head down to kiss the punished cheeks.
Showered and towelled, her sore bottom was treated to the soothing balm of talc. Petra applied it to Ann's reddened cheeks with the palm of her spanking hand. Ann trembled with delight, relishing the notion that the hand which had brought a blaze of pain to her bare buttocks was now spreading the silky talc across the chastised flesh.
'Will-power is so important Ann,' Petra whispered, her lips a mere inch from the bare bottom. 'I will have to train you to resist. The training will be painful, but the results will be most satisfactory. I want you face-down upon the couch, please.'
Shivering with pleasurable anticipation, Ann mounted the stretch of polished hide, conscious of Petra's grey eyes at her cleft as it briefly parted wide. Face down, as instructed, she whimpered as she felt her wrists being drawn together above her buttocks. Petra bound them tightly together with a short length of waxed cord. Another length of cord bit into the soft flesh of her ankles as they, too, were tightly bound.
'Be silent,' Petra commanded, fingering the bondage to test it.
'Remember, the pain quickly ignites into a burning pleasure.'
Ann moaned into the leather.
'Do you like chocolate?'
The sudden question caught Ann completely by surprise. She answered with simple honesty, nodding vigorously.
'I thought as much. Here you are,' Petra said silkily, placing a delicious Nantes truffle - an epicurean favourite from the Kremlin to Kuwait - down upon the dark leather, eight inches from Ann's parted lips.
