Date: Sat, 28 Aug 2010 15:34:30 EDT
From: Mikeallanb@aol.com
Subject: Amy?s B&D Adventures

Amy's B&D Adventures (Mf Ff d/s)   Author Unknown
=========================================
Let me tell you a little bit about me.  When my great adventure began, I
was  young (age 25) and not very experienced.  Oh, I had sex any number of
times, in a number of different ways, but I  never felt the wild excitement in
actually doing those things that I imagined in  advance. I had a million
different, very kinky fantasies, things that I really  wanted to do but was
afraid to try, even if I had the opportunity to try) which  I really didn't
have.  Mostly, my  fantasies involved me as a sort of slave girl, captured by
some strong  individual.  Some days I imagined my  master to be a male and
sometimes a female, with special events for each one.  What I thought I really
wanted was a strong master or mistress, one who also had  wild sexual
fantasies, and who would take charge of me and would then act out  those
fantasies, obviously with me playing out the part of slave girl, used by  master (or
maybe better yet, mistress) in strange and delicious ways, hopefully  with
an audience watching)) and most delicious of all, whether I liked it or
not.  I wanted strange and sexy  things to happen and not have any say as to
the agenda, to be used, perhaps even  to be a little bit abused.
My figure is good, that is, I think it is good, and maybe  you will agree)
that is, you will if you like full bodied girls with large,  shapely
titties.  I am tall, about  5'7", with a nice, full shapely bust, good legs, and a
delicious round  bottom.  I love being nude, and  enjoy other people seeing
me nude.  I have even posed nude for a guy, just for fun, very naughty,
very sexy  pictures, like me masturbating for him, with a large rubber dildo)
or, for  example his favorite shot) me urinating for him, the stream shooting
out like a  waterfall.  I did find that very  exciting (though I would just
die if those pictures ever got out) and no, I  won't show YOU the pictures,
either.  I also did pose nude once for a very, very sexy amateur lady
photographer, but that is completely a different story that I do not intend to
tell you today.  All I will say  about that is that she was dressed when she
took the first pictures of me, she  was nude when she took the last
pictures of me, and the very best pictures would  have been taken a while later,
but by then, frankly, she was too busy to think  about taking pictures. She
had her mind on something else (and her tongue into  something else, too).
I love reading about kinky sex.  Sometimes I go to the porno shops, to
look at the fascinating things they write about, and to look at the exciting
array of rubber dildos and accessories that they sell.  I even bought a
couple of those things)  strictly as a scientific experiment, you understand. I
know a nice shop in  Miami that sells  remarkable stuff and I have purchased
four different dildos and a couple of  rubber butt pluggers.  I adore
playing with these toys, and had a secret fantasy about somebody else putting
them into me (instead of me doing it myself).  If it was a super)sexy guy who
did it,  and if he started me out with a nice, bare bottomed spanking, that
would be just  great.  And if it was a marvelous,  beautiful, dominant super
sexy lady who did it to me, that would be the  greatest!!!
In one of the shops I found a magazine, a Swingers  Journal that seemed
interesting.  It  had just fascinating pictures, especially in the B&D area
that was my  particular excitement at the time.  The ads seemed like fun.  One
of these showed a guy whose area of interest was in spankings, enemas, and
Greek) things about which I had many secret thoughts but not much real
experience.  I decided that I would  answer this particular ad) not intending
ever to meet this guy, but rather, just  to hear what he had to say.
A week or so later I got a letter from him, with a nude  picture.  His name
was Tom.  He was a divorcee.  He was about 35, well built, well hung,  too.
 And he was holding a leather  paddle in his hand and hanging from the
ceiling next to him was a large enema  bag, a long rubber hose attached to it,
and connected to the end of that, a  black rubber)looking device that got
inserted into the recipient of this enema,  and really did the work.  It looked
 like a huge, erect, black penis.   Believe me, it was an impressive
picture.
His letter told about how he liked to be masterful, how  he thought that
there was no sight so beautiful as a naked, shapely, female  bottom, and
nothing he liked to do so much as to pet it, to kiss it))))and to  spank it until
it was rosy pink.  Then, when she was fully ready and receptive, to give
her a long, slow,  deep enema, filling her fuller than she had ever been
filled before, using, of  course, a Bardex so that she could not expel it until
permitted. And then to  lubricate her pretty asshole, greasing it generously
until it was slippery, and  then to fuck it deeply and firmly.  His letter
excited me tremendously.  He became an instantaneous member in my library of
fantasies.
I wrote back to him, he replied again, and this time  included a telephone
number.  I  stared at that for a long time.  I  knew that calling the number
was taking a very serious step) that there was at  least a chance that I
would follow up and visit him at, as he described it, his  Domination
Laboratory.  I did call  the number.  When he replied, his  voice was much as I
expected it to be, and the conversation also was about what  I had expected.  We
agreed to meet)  not at his place, but on neutral ground, at a certain
coffee shop, nothing else  promised but the meeting.  I was  willing to go that
far in advance, but no further at all.  Oh, I knew I would go ahead and meet
him  at the coffee shop, but I did have serious doubts about whether I
would go from  there to his place.
The day of the meeting came, and as promised, I  went.  In fact, I got
there early so  that I could scout out the scene, and if he showed, and if I did
not like his  looks up close, I could sneak out.  Well, he did show up on
time, and I did like his looks.  We had an fascinating conversation about
everything else in the world except sex.  We found a million things to talk
about, found lots of areas of common  interest, a few fun things to fight
about, too.  After a long time (maybe as much as a  couple of hours), it was
time to leave.  I declined to go to his place yet, but since I did not have a
car with me  (I had hopped on the bus to get there) he drove me home.  As
luck would have it, a vacant parking  place was right there almost at my front
door.  He walked me to the door, and right into  my apartment. What happened
next was an awful long way from what our letters  talked about.  We were
soon petting  and in short order he had me out of my sweater and bra, and soon
out of  everything else.  He got me very  excited, undressed himself and
showed off a nice looking, very erect penis.  We did have very nice, normal
sex.  It was fun, pleasant, and certainly not  earth shaking.  I am not even
sure  now that he made me cumm that night. I don't think so, but then, I
rarely do in  regular intercourse.
He called me again the following week.  Soon, we were dating, more or less
regularly, having good sex once or twice a week, but no domination, no
spankings.  One evening we did go to  his place.  This time, he showed me  his
laboratory) a room in the basement, with wood paneled walls, a large, sturdy
 oak library table with a gym mat as a top, and a rubber sheet over it.
That was the laboratory.  We wondered what it would be like if I  was up on
it, bottom)up.  I  complied.  Attached to each leg of  the table was a leather
strap.  He  put a leather dog collar around each of my wrists, and then
fastened the wrist  to one of the leather straps stretching my arms out wide,
and helpless.  Very quickly, my ankles were similarly  fastened.  I was now
spreadeagled,  completely under his control.
Did he now take charge completely?  Absolutely not.  He talked to me, and
came back to our  early correspondence, and what I had told him I wanted him
to do.  And all this time, his hands were  wandering over my bare ass.
Suddenly, SPLATT!!! He whacked me with his big, bare hand across my  ass.  It
stung a little bit, but  certainly did not really HURT.  Again.......and
again....a few more times.  Then he went to the closet.  He took out a leather
strop.  Long and wicked looking.  He talked to me some more.  And then he
raised the strop and swished  it, fairly hard, across my ass.  It  did hurt) but
it felt good at the same time.  He gave me a fairly thorough spanking  that
day, followed by the love enema he had talked about.. a long, slow enema
that took 20 or 30 minutes to go in.  Along the way a couple of times I told
him that I could not take any  more.  Each time, he would stop the  water
flow for a while until I got used to the feeling...and then start it  again.
Eventually, he gave me as  much as he wanted me to have, but then he made me
keep it in for a while  longer.
After he finally did let me expel it into the toilet, I  got to rest a
while, but then he did greek me.  He first expanded my anus with a greased
finger, and then two and three at the same time, stretching me.  He had a
conical, rubber dildo)a butt  plugger.  Slowly, almost tenderly,  he inserted it
in me until the thickest part was past the sphincter.  In it went the rest of
the way, the  thick rim preventing it from going in too far.  He asked me
how it felt.  Actually, it felt almost marvelous.  I was almost disappointed
when he pulled  it out) and I was shocked when from his drawer he pulled out
a still)larger  version of the same thing.  This  looked too big to ever
get into such a tight place.  However, with patience, and perseverance  and
plenty of pressure, he did get it innnnnnnnnnn) slowly, stretching me  larger,
until the largest diameter passed the sphincter and it was lodged fully  up
inside me.  He gave me a little  more of the leather strop, so I could have
the two sensations together.  After a while, the rubber plug came  out.  He
got up astride, put the  blunt, rigid end of his cock against my now
stretched rosette.  After what had happened so far, that did  not really hurt at
all) it was sort of tight, but not painful.  And to me, the sensation of
being fucked  in the ass by a masterful man was just marvelous, though I must
say that never  did I have the feeling that I was out of control.  I always
felt that any time I really  wanted him to stop and go no further, that he
would have without question.  Never did I feel totally dominated,  subjugated,
like the subdued slave)girl I really wanted to  be.
The next time or two that we were together, things were  much the same.
After we had done  the same things a few times, we began to talk about
fantasies, and he made me  tell him mine. It relates to Mrs. Olsen, who was my
landlady, and who really  disliked me.  If I ever was going to  try the
slave)girl experience, totally controlled by another, she would be  absolutely my
first choice.
Now the wierd thing about her was that she once had been  a strong
disciplinarian, a teacher in one of those strange schools where the  students are
punished.  I overheard  her telling a lady friend once that she did have an
experience.  She had a student who badly needed the  discipline, and nothing
that Mrs.  Olsen ever did seemed to make that one shape up. Repeated
applications of the  leather did not make any difference.  The cure for her,
according to Mrs. Olsen, was that she was given a  thorough stropping, forced to
take a number of tablespoons of castor oil, thank  Mrs. Olsen for each one,
stropped some more, and then given a large mouthful of  Mrs. Olsen's shit to
eat, a tablespoonful at a time.  I overheard this and never forgot  it.
And, I am sure, I masturbated  about it a thousand times.  That was  my
fantasy.  I wanted to be taken  over by somebody who disliked me, stripped, spanked
thoroughly, made to eat her  pussy, and then more humiliating things.
Now understand about Mrs. Olsen.  She is tall and strong, a very handsome
woman, with a very potent personality.  She is about 45.  There is no  Mr.
Olsen around.  I do not know if  she is a widow or a divorcee) she is not the
kind of person that you ask  questions of.  We genuinely do not  like each
other.  I think she is  overbearing.  She thinks that I am  wild, spoiled,
disrespectful.  While  she is my landlady, I cannot wait to get out of there,
and she cannot wait to  have me gone. But she still is very much in my
fantasies. This story,  embellished somewhat, is what I told to Tom. He is very
interested in this, and  says that he is going to look into making it all
happen. He had me write him a  letter, detailing all this, though how exactly
he plans to make use of it, I do  not know.
Today, Tom called at lunch time and asked me to come over  this evening,
and to be sure to be there before 8:00 PM.  He says that we might, just might,
have  company, though he won't say who and he won't say what.  I am
fantasizing about this, have been  all day now, not knowing what to expect. Today
is Thursday, I thought, and today  is the day that perhaps I am going to
meet my fate.  Thomas had heard my story and questioned  me on it in detail.
He knew what I  think I want.  He was delighted to  help me, to play in our
little drama.  He had my letter, written in my own hand, addressed to him,
which  detailed everything.  He had also  purchased a pint bottle of castor
oil at the drug store)the only item on the  list that he did not have in
advance.  And he had made the calls, I believe, talked to Mrs. Olsen, explained
our  relationship, and had her surprised (and he says, delighted and
enthusiastic)  agreement to participate.  He told  her that he had been regularly
spanking me, had nude photos of me that he knew  she would want to see, and
had ideas of advanced discipline for me that he  wanted to discuss with her.
She was  cautious, but interested) after all, this was really right up her
alley, and it  was being handed to her on a silver platter, so to  speak.
This time, for the first time, I did not drive to his  place.  I knew that
if the adventure  was going to go according to his plan that I would be
taken home, in bondage, by  Mrs. Olsen.  My car would only be in  the way.  I
went there by cab,  dressed as usual in jeans and a sweater.  The clothes made
no difference.  I would be nude as soon as I got there.  Thomas' house was
no different than at  any other time.  The furnishings are  sparse, but
adequate. The room down in the basement, which was the "playroom"  had wood
paneled walls, with various hooks and eyes, and the large, very sturdy  oak
library table with a padded top. On the floor stood a brown paper bag.  I was
instructed to strip down to my  panties, but to leave them on) a pair of
black nylon bikini panties that he had  bought for me that he liked. I was  to
put each article of clothing that I removed into that paper bag.  Soon enough
I was almost nude, trembling  slightly, though not from fright.  Thomas had
seen me nude now a number of times and had used me in the  various ways
that a punished girl is used.  Instead, I was trembling in anticipation.  This
might be the night that Mrs. Olsen  would join us, and if she did, there was
no telling how the agenda might go.  This time, for preparation, all that
happened was that Tom put wrist cuffs on me  and fastened my wrists behind my
back.  I was helpless.  And I was  wondering if she would appear) and if
she did appear if she would participate  and if she did participate, how
severe she would be with me.  I had fantasies about how she would be  dressed.
No matter what she had on  top, I knew that she would wear a black
merry)widow, a short corset like  garment, only hip length, and with that, black
opera)length hose and  garters.  And of course, black  panties that revealed more
than they hid, through which would clearly be visible  her fulsome behind.
I had seen her dressed this way, and it really depressed  me.  It also
really excited me.  I had visions of kissing that large,  shapely bottom, of
thrusting my tongue up inside) and I hated these  visions.  And secretly begged
that  she make it happen.
I stood, just marking time.  The phone range.  Tom went upstairs to talk,
and seemed  gone forever.  Then the doorbell  rang.  I could hear voices as
he  answered upstairs, but could not identify who was there.  I could only
hope.  Footsteps could be heard) two pair were  coming down the stairs) and
there she was!!  Mrs. Velma Olsen stood there, looking  just gorgeous, dressed
in a simple, severe black dress.  She looked around the room, looked
finally at me, standing wearing only my panties, my wrists fastened behind my
back.  "My dear", she said. "You  cannot imagine how glad I am to see you
here.  And looking so lovely,  too".
I stood still as her hands ran across my lower body,  fondling my bottom,
gently squeezing one cheek of my ass.  Her hands ran up my front, taking hold
 of each bare breast and fondling me.  She took my nipples, each between a
thumb and forefinger and gently  squeezed, bringing them to instant
erection)))and using my nipples to pull by,  dragged me in very close.  "Let me  see
your tongue", she commanded.  I  opened my mouth, showed her the tip of my
tongue.  Squeezing somewhat harder, she ordered  me "Further,darling.  Stick
it all  the way out so that i can see it."  I complied.  She opened her
mouth, and we deep)kissed.  And  gently, she bit down on my tongue.  Not very
hard, but hard enough.  This was not at all what I had expected.
"My dear", she said, "Tom has told me how naughty you  have been.  I am
not really  surprised, but it is nice to have confirmation that I have been
correct.  He has asked that I help in modifying  your behavior.  Won't that be
 fun?"  And in saying that she  squeezed hard on each erect nipple, making
me gasp.
She removed the black frock.  She did not have the merry)widow  on)rather,
she was wearing only a sexy looking deep)cut black bra, and black  panty
hose.  This emphasized her  curvaceous figure, and with her high heels, she had
a totally queenly  appearance.  Tom, watching closely)  his eyes popping
out at the sight) was obviously very erect.  It seemed certain that at least
for now,  he was going to be a voyeur in this drama) not a direct
participant.  It also seemed that he did not mind in  the least.
Velma sat, and pulled me over her lap, bottom)up.  Her hands fondled my
bikini)clad rump,  squeezing here and there, probing a bit.  A hand ran inside
the waist band and squeezed naked flesh) not hard, but  rather more a loving
squeeze.  She  quickly pulled my panties down, tugged them all the way off,
and asked me to  open my legs so that she could see all my parts. Her hands
probed here and  there.  First a finger touched all  around my vulva,
testing for creaminess.  I was sopping wet.  The  finger probed inward, deeply,
came out again and rubbed gently across my now  erect clit, almost making me
leap off her lap.  The finger found its way between the  upturned cheeks of
my bottom, found the rosebud pointing up at her, gently  forced its way
inside, full depth.  This also seemed to please her.
"Ooh yes, you are just lovely," she said, "just the way I  knew you would
be".
And she raised her right hand and spanked me fiercely  across one cheek of
my upturned bottom.  Very slowly, she lectured me on good behavior,
punctuating almost every  point with another hard swat on my bare ass, first on one
cheek and then the  other, alternating back and forth it seemed, to be sure
that each side got its  fair share.  Well, each side got  more than its fair
share.  Very soon  she brought me to tears.  This went  on for a while)
much longer than I had expected, and much more of a spanking  than Tom had ever
given me.  I was  crying now, not knowing what to say.
I begged her to stop, promising her as a little girl  might that I would be
good, that I would never again be disrespectful, that I  would obey her in
anything, just anything, that she might want me to do.  She pushed me off
onto the floor,  ordered me to kneel before her. Now understand how I felt.  I
had truly been punished and my bottom  felt like it was on fire.  I felt
humiliated to be treated this way, and to have Tom see me treated this way.
I felt totally ashamed of myself for  getting myself into this situation.
And I felt totally under her control.  But most of all, I felt absolutely,
orgasmically excited.  She was  Queen, she was in charge, and what would
happen was completely up to her.  What she wanted from me, she would  get!!!
She took off her black bra, and showed me (and Tom) a  pair of delicious,
shapely, large breasts.  She offered me a thick, dark brown nipple to kiss.
I had no doubts whatever about what was  going to happen now, and I did just
as she indicated she wanted me to do) I  leaned forward, and took that
luscious morsel into my mouth and sucked it  lovingly.  Shortly, her hand found
my earlobe, and pulled me downward.  She shucked her black underpants,
spread her husky, shapely thighs, and  showed me a musky crotch, obviously
excited that she wanted me to kiss as a  gesture of submission. And all the time
that I had known her, hated her, always  I had known that this was what I
really wanted.  I had dreamed about it a thousand times,  the thought of me
being on my knees, kneeling before her widespread thighs,  peering into her
open, expectant crotch, looking at the pink lips and her erect  clit, standing
up and awaiting my kiss.  I knew the significance of this position.  I was
going to lean forward and kiss her  there, and suck her juices, and give her
pleasure.  And by so doing, she was going to take  possession of me to use
me any way that she chose to use me in the future.  I was going to be
converted to her slave  girl, and she would own me and operate me.  I buried my
face in it, her gorgeous, feminine cunt, tasting her juices,  enjoying the
strange flavors and enjoying the sexy, gorgeous feeling of  humiliation of
doing this with Tom watching.  He loved  it.
I was still on my knees between her thighs when she  reached to the table
for the bottle of castor oil, and a tablespoon.  A large spoonful was poured,
and offered  to me.  I pursed my lips, knowing  that no taste did I hate so
much as this.  I refused.  She smiled,  reached over and took a nipple, and
pinched HARD.  It hurt, really hurt.  I screamed, not understanding her
sudden  change in mood.  She said, "Now  there you are being willful,
disobedient.  That is exactly what I am going to correct."
She pinched again, and I immediately opened my mouth  wide, and got for my
troubles the tablespoonful of the castor oil.  I gagged on it, but managed
to swallow  it down.
"Would you like another?" she  asked.
When I gasped out NOOO, she pinched again, saying "Now  that is the WRONG
answer, darling.  Let me ask again.  Would you  like another?"
I knew what would happen if I said no again.  I did not know what to say.
She said it for me.  She said "May I have another) that would  be the way
that you would say it if you had good  manners".
And with that, she gave me another pinch, this time not  so hard but still
hard enough. And of course, I did ask for another, and was  duly rewarded
with a large spoonful, and then a moment later, another and  another.........
I was let alone for a while, while Velma and Tom  disappeared upstairs.
They were  gone for a long time.  When they  came back, I could see that Tom
had lost his erection.  Velma sat down again before me, her  thighs spread
again, and beckoned me to kiss her.  I did, of course, and found now that she
was ever so much more juicy than before, a totally different flavor, too.
Obviously, out of my sight, they had  fucked.  She had paid Tom, in a
sense, for turning me over to her for discipline, and she had thanked him in the
manner he liked best.  Velma reached  into her purse, and found a new toy)
a large nipple clip that she attached to  one of my nipples, and snapped a
leash onto it.  This was a new way to lead somebody  around.  She found my
coat, threw it  over my shoulders, took the leash in one hand, the paper bag
with my clothes in  the other, said goodbye to Tom, and led me out to her
car.  As she led me, her attitude seemed to be  that of a great lady who had
just procured a new toy, and now meant to take it  home and play with it in
depth.  I  was the toy.  And I knew this game  that we were going to play.
She was  going to make the rules and I was going to abide by them) without any
 limits.  She would be judge and jury  and enforcer.
In the car, she reached into the coat, took my other  breast in her hand
and very gently fondled it, rubbing the nipple.  She turned her face to me,
and offered  me a very wet kiss) and as well, a totally confusing mixture of
sensations and  feelings.  Her hand ran between my  thighs, into my pussy,
feeling its wetness.  She gently, very gently frigged my clit,  bringing me
almost, but not quite to orgasm.  And she nibbled on my ear lobe, and  thrust
a tongue into my ear, in the meanwhile whispering "Darling girl, I am  going
to be your teacher, and I am going to just loooovvvvee being your  teacher.
 You are just going to love  it.  Did you enjoy going down on  me?"
Considering the remarkable talent she had shown for  pinching my nipples
and making me do her thing, I knew I had better give the  right answer.  I
said that I loved  it.
"Good", she said, "since you like it so well, do it  again, right now."
So, for another ten or fifteen minutes we sat parked in  front of Tom's
house, my face buried in her humid cunt, my tongue sucking her  clit)) and all
the while, that castor oil was doing its insidious work, taking  me ever
closer to that particular point of no  return.
Away we drove, finally, towards home.  I was certain that I would never
make it  there, considering the wild sensations in my bowels.  Somehow, I did
manage to hold on long  enough, my stomach heaving and quenching as she led
me up the stairs, firmly  holding the leash.  I begged for  permission to go
to the bathroom, and to my surprise, it was granted without  question.
Velma was for the moment  in her sweet phase.  I came back  out, and was granted
permission to shower and to rest a bit.  Rest for what?  Well, as it turned
out, for quite a bit  more.
An hour later, after relaxing and watching the evening  news on TV, she
ordered me up.  My  hands were fastened behind my back again, and after some
really loving)type  gentle play with my nipples, we began to discuss
discipline.  She reviewed my conduct over the past  several years that we had known
each other.  She pointed to a number of specific  instances where, she
thought, I could have, should have behaved  differently.  Now, she told me, she
was going to teach me  number of  things, but better manners and better
behavior and total obedience to recognized  authority were certainly vital parts
of the lessons. Obviously, she was now the  recognized authority that she
referred to. To determine if I was sufficiently  obedient, she turned her back
to me, bent forward to give me a delightful view  of her bare ass, her legs
spread so that I could see her brown rosette, almost  winking at me.
I knew what she wanted me to do, to give it a long, wet,  sweet thrusting
kiss.  At that  point, I could not.  She said that  this was disobedience,
exactly what she had meant.  And announcing this, she bent me over  the end of
the couch, my bottom raised.  She left me there for a moment, went to fetch
something from the closet,  and showed it to me) a wicked looking leather
strap, about 18" long, 3" wide,  and the end cut into three separate tongues
of leather.  She told me that it was a trainer,  sometimes called a tawse,
but by any name a marvelous tool for one job) for  teaching.  She said that
nature had  provided every female a place to be taught) her naked behind.
There, lessons could be given, that  might be painful for the moment, but
they would be remembered and no permanent  harm would come.  And with that, she
 raised the tawse, and SSSSSPPPPLLLAAATTT!!) a fiery streak, right across
the  crowns of both cheeks.  I screamed  out.  She said nothing, and for a
long time, the only sound in the room was the voice from the TV.  Time
dragged, and my behind was on  fire.  I had never really felt  anything like it
before.  And then)  SSSSSPPPPPPPLLLAAATTTT!!  Again, she  burned my bottom, as
before.  And  now it hurt twice as much, if that is possible.  I was
sobbing, crying, begging her to  let me go.  All that got me was a  third and then
a fourth shot of the wicked tawse across my  rump.
She asked me questions about things I had done the  previous year, about
things I had said, about Tom.  She wanted to know if I had been letting  him
fuck me. I said no.  That  immediately earned me another vicious swat with
the tawse.  Again she asked, and this time I  confessed.  She wanted to know
if I  had him use me up the ass.  I denied  it) and got yet another stroke.
I  confessed that Tom had been using me anally.  She noted that down for
future  reference, as if that was another transgression that she intended to
cure.  I was crying hysterically now, willing  to tell her anything, willing
to confess to any sin, and getting in the process  a barn)burner of a
spanking.  Suddenly it stopped.  She  said to me, "What would you like to do,now?"
I knew there was only one answer to  that question, and I said it, "Please
let me show you, let me kiss your  beautiful ass."  She smiled  slightly,
bent forward again, and again, offered her brown rosette to my  tongue.  Now,
finally, I did what I  had always really wanted to do.  I  thrust my tongue
against it, probed inward slightly, tasted her strange flavor,  and gave her
thusly the kiss of total obedience.
She left the room.  After what seemed a long time, she returned, carrying a
paper plate.  I knew what would happen next, and sure  enough, she found a
spoon, and then asked me if I wanted my dessert now.  I gulped, cried again,
and said  nooooo.  And for that refusal, got  another two strokes of the
tawse.  She asked again, and knowing that this would go on until I said yes, I
 did so.  She made me request it,  made me ask her to please feed me my
dessert.