Letters to Penthouse XXXXV

by Penthouse International

  I had to remind myself over and over again not to act until I was given permission. And Richard was in no rush to grant it. With a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he stood almost perfectly still, only moving his hips slightly to bump my lips with his dick and tease me further. It was nearly impossible to not react, but I tried my hardest to control my desires as long as I could.

  Finally, he rested his dick against my lips and commanded me to open my mouth. His cockhead slid easily between my lips, and I sucked him in deeper. Richard jerked backward, pulling his cock out of my mouth, and scolded me. “I never told you to suck,” he said. “You’re to do only what I tell you, nothing more. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, chastened.

  I waited, my lips wrapped around his dick once more, until he pushed forward again. This time, though, I made sure not to suck or swirl my tongue without being told. I didn’t want to upset my master again. He stroked in and out of my mouth a few times before he let me act. When he did, I followed his orders to a T. When he said to suck, I sucked, and when he said to lick, I licked. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he directed me to do it, but soon enough he was getting excited, and he finally let me do whatever I wanted—at least as far as sucking his dick was concerned.

  I sucked and slurped with all I had, not wanting to disappoint him. I usually jerk my husband’s cock when I give him head, but without the use of my hands, I had to make do with only my lips and tongue. I made sure to slide my mouth back and forth, stroking him with my lips. My tongue swirled around the head when I slid back, then traced lines up and down the shaft as I took him deeper. I knew Richard was enjoying my attention, but I was having a good time, too. I love sucking my husband’s dick, and doing it while in the midst of our dom/sub game was even better. I loved the challenge!

  Richard was on the verge of a climax when he pulled out of my mouth while I was midsuck. His dick popped out from between my lips, surprising me, and I gaped up at my master, waiting for his next command.

  “You didn’t make me come,” he scolded a moment later. “Did you not think I would want to come?”

  “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir,” I apologized. We both knew he would have come if he’d given me another moment, but it was all part of the game, so I played along.

  “I wanted to come,” he said again. “But because you didn’t let me, you must be punished.”

  My pussy tingled when he said that, and I knew I was about to get spanked. Whenever he thinks I’ve misbehaved (or whenever he wants to pretend I’ve misbehaved), I always get a spanking. And Richard knows exactly how to deliver the perfect punishment.

  He zipped his dick back into his pants, letting me know that I wasn’t getting any action until after my punishment, then he moved behind me. He grabbed my arms and helped me onto my feet before guiding me over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled me over his lap. He hadn’t put me over his knee in a long time, and I got more aroused as I felt his hard-on pressing against my stomach while I lay across his sturdy thighs. I wiggled a bit to get into the correct position, and then I waited for Richard to deliver the first thrilling smack.

  His initial slap was gentle, but it ignited a fire in me as I remembered the last spanking I’d received. I couldn’t wait to feel my ass get warm as my husband’s palm hit my butt over and over again.

  The second smack was a little harder, and I bit my lip to stop the moan that wanted to break free. Letting my husband hear how much I enjoy my punishment is a surefire way to end my spanking early, and I didn’t want that. So I sucked down my sounds of pleasure and waited in silence for the next strike.

  Each smack got progressively harder, and my ass jiggled each time he made contact. It felt good, though, and as my flesh got warmer and warmer, it got harder for me to keep my excitement to myself. When I felt my juices start to drip out of my pussy, I knew they were going to soak into Richard’s pants. And unlike a moan, I couldn’t try to hold in my pussy juice. I knew the second my wetness had seeped into my husband’s slacks, because his cock twitched against me through his pants. Feeling my excitement had obviously turned him on, and I hoped that meant he would give me what I wanted—what we both wanted—instead of punishing me more and making me wait.

  It seemed Richard needed a minute to decide on his course of action, and he continued to spank me as he thought about what to do. His smacks weren’t as hard as they had been, but it was enough to keep my arousal up, and with each slap, drops of juice dribbled out of my pussy and onto my husband’s pants.

  After a half-dozen spanks, it seemed Richard had made up his mind, and he stood up, nearly dropping me to the floor. He acted quickly to catch me, however, immediately helping me to my feet and then getting me onto the bed. He left my handcuffs in place and positioned me facedown on my knees. I propped myself up on my shoulder and looked back at him as he shed his clothes with record speed.

  As he stripped out of his pants, his rock-hard cock sprung up and bobbed several times before he grabbed it and aimed it at my pussy. He started to push into me, then stopped and looked at me. “You’re not to climax until I tell you it’s okay,” he said. “After your behavior, you’re lucky I’m going to let you come at all.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, knowing I’d have to try hard to make sure I didn’t come before I was supposed to.

  Richard started to thrust into my pussy, his hips slapping against mine as he did. When he fucks me, he usually starts off slow and builds up to a quicker pace, but he was so turned on by our game that he didn’t bother taking his time. He started off with deep, rapid strokes, and as he got closer to his orgasm, I felt his dick begin to throb. The closer he got, though, the more aroused I became, and when he felt my pussy get wetter and start to clench around his cock, he pulled back and forced me to calm down. He reminded me that he was going to come first, and if I wanted him to let me come, too, I’d better pull myself together.

  When my breathing returned to normal, he pushed into me again. I tried to control my urge to climax, and I let Richard pound into me at full force as he tried to get off. He was so excited that it only took him another minute of thrusting before he came. He didn’t stop moving until he was spent, and then he finally allowed me to come, reaching under my body and fingering my clit until I exploded.

  Only after I came did he uncuff me, and I rolled onto my side. Richard joined me a minute later, curling up next to me for a nap. Our game was over—at least for a little while.

  —Ms. Lauren T., Denver, Colorado

  Submissive George Will Pay Dearly for His Mistake

  Every Tuesday my favorite submissive, George, comes to my dungeon for his session. He always comes bearing tribute presents, and he always has a new excuse for why he needs to be punished. However, two weeks ago, he’d missed his regular session and hadn’t bothered to call in advance to cancel. It was unlike him to be so disrespectful, so I was concerned and thought something had happened to him. However, when he called two days later to make his appointment for the following week and failed to mention his error, I knew that it had been a careless mistake—and that I had to make him pay.

  George was on his best behavior from the moment I answered the door right up until we were inside the dungeon. He clearly knew that he was in trouble for flaking the week before, and he seemed to think that ignoring the problem would make it go away. I was going to make sure he knew that wasn’t the case.

  As he knelt on the floor, I paced back and forth in front of him, letting the clicking of my heels against the stone floor send him into a panic. The longer I made him wait, the more worried he got, and he started whimpering, begging me to begin his punishment. “Please, Mistress,” he whined. “Please punish me for what I did wrong!”

  “And what did you do wrong?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I waited for him to admit to his error.

  “I failed to cancel my appointment with you, Mistress,” he said, his eyes downcast. “I’m so sorry. I know I s
hould have called, Mistress, but I forgot, and then I was too ashamed.” He looked up at me and paused before promising, “It will never happen again.”

  I studied him for a minute, making sure he was serious, and when I was certain that his apology was sincere, I accepted it. I was ready to deliver George’s punishment.

  I ordered him to strip, and though my voice was sharp, I saw a small smile cross his face. George was eager to see what I had up my sleeve. Once he had his clothes off, I guided him to the corner of the room, where an old pommel horse sat. I use it in place of a spanking bench. When a submissive lies across it, his feet dangle above the floor, and the added awkwardness of the position makes for more intense floggings. As soon as George was hanging over the padded beam, I went to select the perfect flogger. There were dozens of whips and paddles and cat-o’-nines to choose from, but my eyes went directly to the one I thought would do the job best. It was a double-weight vinyl number with long, thin tails, and when I smacked it against my palm, I felt its sweet stinging pleasure. It was exactly what George needed.

  I carried the flogger over to my slave and swung it back and forth in front of his face, letting him see what I planned to use to beat his ass. He moaned quietly, but I still heard him, and I smirked, knowing he was about to get a punishment he wouldn’t soon forget.

  I rounded the pommel horse and stood behind George. I grabbed the tails in my left hand and raised them to my shoulder while my right arm crossed my body, getting in position. I aimed at the center of his ass, and then I released the tails and snapped my right wrist, swinging the flogger. The vinyl tails smacked loudly against his flesh, and his legs kicked as he moaned with pleasure.

  “Did you like that?” I asked.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he replied, his voice low and smooth. He seemed to get worried that he’d given the wrong answer, though, and quickly continued. “I mean no, Mistress,” he went on with a stutter. “I… I don’t know, Mistress.”

  I laughed, knowing the question had confused him. Even though he was in trouble, the flogging wasn’t really a punishment. George would enjoy it. It was my disappointment in his previous behavior that would make him feel sorry for flaking on our scheduled session. His attempt at feigning displeasure was sweet, though, and I was reminded of why George has always been my favorite slave. However, it didn’t stop me from swinging my flogger a few dozen more times.

  Each time I snapped my wrist, the whip’s vinyl tails cracked against George’s flesh, covering his ass with dozens of pink stripes. After every few lashes, I reminded him how inconsiderate he’d been, and he apologized over and over again. My constant reprimands did nothing to silence his moans of pleasure, though. He tried to keep them quiet, but they got louder and louder as the flogging continued. I was sure his hard cock was poking into the firm padding of the bench he was lying on, and when his hips wiggled, grinding his crotch against it, I knew I was right.

  I let him hump the horse for a minute, his legs flailing as he tried to move, but his toes barely brushed the floor, so he couldn’t get any leverage. Then I reminded him that it didn’t matter how turned on he was; he wasn’t allowed to come without permission—and that wouldn’t happen until I’d climaxed. “Yes, Mistress,” he said with a groan, his desire to come evident in his voice. But I wasn’t about to break the rule for him. He couldn’t have an orgasm until I had one.

  I swung the flogger a few more times, the tails smacking hard against George’s ass. The sound of the strikes and the weight of the flogger in my hand were turning me on, and I felt my pussy start to drip. I had to speed things up.

  At my word, George slid off the beam and knelt in front of me as he waited for my next command. I ordered him to pull down my latex pants and eat my pussy to climax. It took him quite a while to peel down the tight black leggings, but as soon as he had me naked from the waist down, he went right to work. In addition to being a considerate slave, George has a talent for cunnilingus, and he never fails to bring me to climax when I demand that he do so. As he licked my cunt, it was obvious he was still feeling sorry for his behavior the week before, because he ate me with more enthusiasm than ever before.

  If I hadn’t already forgiven him, the way his lips and tongue were working on my pussy would have won me over. It took only a couple of minutes of his excellent cunt-eating to get me off, and like a good slave, George kept his mouth sealed to my pussy, drinking up all my juices and licking me clean. Then, and only then, did I allow him to come. He wrapped his fist around his dick and jerked it maybe a dozen times before he moaned with pleasure and shot his load.

  Our session over, I allowed George to redress—I did the same—and then dismissed him. He didn’t leave right away, though. Instead he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small wrapped package. A gift. I knew whatever was inside would be extravagant and beautiful. Like I said, there are many reasons George is my favorite submissive, even if he does occasionally misbehave.

  —Ms. Leanne V., Florissant, Missouri

  Wicked Master Knows How to Push Naughty Becky’s Buttons

  I’ve been dating a dominant man for the past six months. From the day we met, he seemed to know what to do to make my pussy drip. Well, I guess he had a hint about where my desire lay, because we had met at a workshop for erotic spanking, after all. But he knows that there’s more to a good punishment scenario than simply swinging a paddle. The best tops are the kinds who get inside a submissive’s head and figure out what really gets a slave seriously hot and bothered. And Alan is definitely that kind of top.

  I’m not his only slave girl, and that’s fine with me, because I’m not looking for anything serious at this point in my life. I’m content to share him with other women.

  Melissa, my coslave, is an adorable, bubbly brunette with dimples in her cheeks. She lights up a room with her smile, but it’s the sight of her pink-cheeked bottom that sets my pulse racing. And lucky for me, Melissa is a very naughty girl who frequently needs to be punished.

  I love the sensation of being spanked, but even more so, I love the anticipation of waiting my turn to be disciplined by my master. And seeing another hapless girl getting her bare bottom punished gets my juices flowing like nothing else. It reminds me of what I’m in for, and the sound of the paddle meeting skin, combined with her little moans and squeals, totally turns me on.

  Alan discovered my interest during my first scene together with him and Melissa. He’d ordered both of us to dress in schoolgirl outfits and had us sit in straight-backed chairs while he lorded over us and lectured us about our poor behavior in the classroom.

  I squirmed in my seat, feeling my pussy moistening my cotton panties as the time for my paddling grew nearer and he continued to scold us. When he was done talking, Melissa was blushing fiercely and looking completely turned on.

  When Alan announced that Melissa would be spanked first, I let out a gasp. He looked at me with a sly smile, intuiting right away what my outburst meant.

  Alan pulled Melissa out of her chair and yanked her down over his lap. In a flash, he lifted up her skirt and pulled down her candy-striped panties so that her bare ass was pointed in my direction.

  I watched breathlessly as Alan lifted a round wooden paddle and then slapped it against Melissa’s cheeks. She moaned immediately, the sound of her voice still hanging in the air as he delivered the second swat. The unyielding, polished wood was quickly coloring Melissa’s cheeks, and my pussy began to ache with my rapidly growing desire.

  I was transfixed as I watched him work over her naughty bottom. In between moans and squeaks of surprise, she promised she’d be a good girl in the future. But her pleading words fell on deaf ears as Alan delivered a serious spanking, making her entire bottom a pretty shade of red.

  When he’d finally deemed her appropriately punished, he tucked the hem of her pleated skirt into her waistband and ordered her to stand in the corner. So with her panties banded around her knees, Melissa shuffled into position and stood there silently while he
announced it was my turn.

  Alan repositioned his chair and directed me over his lap. With this new setup, I was able to stare at Melissa’s well-spanked bottom while my master warmed my own. I nearly swooned from the pleasure of it all.

  When Alan finally pulled down my panties, he actually laughed out loud. I could tell even without looking that they were soaked. Watching Melissa get punished had gotten me more turned on than anything else I’d ever seen in my life.

  He announced that I was even more naughty than Melissa had been and warned me that I was in for an even more stern spanking than she had received. At that point, I was so hot that I didn’t care. In fact, I couldn’t wait for him to begin.

  Alan didn’t waste any time warming up my bottom. He started right in, the way he had with Melissa. I counted each swat aloud, as ordered, keeping my eyes on her the whole time. She was squirming in the corner, squeezing her thighs together, as she struggled to not reach between her legs and get herself off.

  Each swat of the paddle seemed to reignite the glow of the previous spank, and that heat quickly spread to my pussy. I was dripping wet, and I knew I was leaving a wet spot on Alan’s jeans—something I’d be punished for again later in the afternoon.

  I wanted to get off so badly, I couldn’t even pretend to be the repentant schoolgirl—like Melissa had done—and Alan knew it. Once he’d delivered the last swat, he pushed me off his lap and ordered Melissa and me to get each other off. We scrambled toward each other, kissing wildly when we met. Before long we were side by side on the floor in a sexy 69. Our plaid skirts were pushed up over our hips, and we tongued each other’s pussy while we squeezed each other’s ass cheeks, reliving our spanking as we ate each other to orgasm.

  Afterward, Alan ordered us to kneel before him and take turns sucking him off. We did so eagerly, wanting to deliver a small fraction of the pleasure he’d given to us.

  Lucky for me, Melissa likes being watched as much as I love watching her. So together, we’re a perfect match for our kinky master.