Unique Punishment Flogging

You’d have to be careful, I think, not to try this game with a woman whose suprise reflex involves biting:

Donny returned to the bed and stood by its side in front of my mouth. “Open your mouth,” he said, and I did.

He pushed the head of his cock not unforcefully into my mouth. Wrapping one of his hands in my hair, he cranked my head back and up so that our eyes met even as his cock continued to slowly fuck my mouth. With my head pulled so far back I found it more difficult to deep-throat him. I gagged slightly and when he pulled out of my mouth long pearly strands of my spit connected us like wet spider webs.

“You didn’t follow my directions,” Donny said. “I told you that except for asking permission to come, you couldn’t speak. You told me to fuck you harder. Now,” he said and shifted his body to fuck my throat more fully, “you will suck my cock until I come and as you do, I’m going to flog you. With each stroke, it will get harder and hurt you more, so you’d do best to make me come quickly.”

He released my head down and shifted his weight. I could hear it before I felt it: the soft thudding rain of the flogger’s leather tips on my ass. I continued to suck his cock, his hips moving with their own rhythm, guiding his cock into my mouth at his pace. I could do little but try to make it interesting—swirl my tongue surprisingly around his cock’s tip when he pulled out, bite gently behind its head for a brief moment when it entered, swallow around its heavy presence in the back of my throat when it had fully penetrated my mouth and throat.

Every passing moment the flogger rained down harder. Soon it had progressed from the gentle heavy drops of the beginning of an August afternoon thundercloud to the sweet stinging pitter-patter of an April shower and then to the driving discomfort of a cold February storm.

As Donny’s strokes became harder, fiercer and more punishing, his excitement grew. His cock was now piston-fucking my mouth, this hard and inexhaustible machine fucking my mouth with internal combustion power. His concentration on his cock, Donny’s aim with the flogger became less and less precise. He hit my ass and my thighs, but also the tender flesh of my inner thighs, my belly and my pussy.

Switch-flashy bits of pain flickered when errant strands of the flogger caught my clit, my labia, my anus. The pain lit on and off the bright white of warning lights. Pop! pop! the snaps of pain on my girl bits snapped like the obsolescent flashbulbs of 1940’s paparazzo’s cameras…

From Pretty Dumb Things.

  1. chelsea girl commented on May 2nd, 2006:

    Yes, I guess it’s a very good thing I’m not a biter–except for pillows, that is.

    Thanks for the linkage, dear Spanking Boss.

    kissykiss,
    chelsea girl

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