Showing posts with label punishment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label punishment. Show all posts
Friday, April 3, 2015
Friday, February 13, 2015
Part Two of "The Seduction Begins"
This summary is not available. Please
click here to view the post.
Friday, January 16, 2015
Friday, September 19, 2014
Friday, September 12, 2014
Friday, July 25, 2014
Being Trained to Submit
Excerpt from Depravity's Child
Click the book title above for more information
Adult Erotica. The beautiful, alluring but very sheltered Antonia suddenly finds herself married off to Rupert Reyes, a handsome stranger with a penchant for dominating women. Antonia's domineering father, Benito, expects the marriage will make his willful daughter a submissive just like her mother, Honoria, who is dutifully at his beck and call. But Benito knows nothing about Rupert's villainous heart.
He tugged the tie at his throat, while she, dressed like a used whore, clothes askew, legs still widely splayed, hands bound above her watched his every move. Such a meticulous man, she would think later as she replayed the scene in her mind.
He undid the buttons of his starched shirt while staring at her face, then carefully threaded his gold cufflinks through their holes and slipped them into his pants pocket. He wore the style of armless undershirt that field laborers wear until they are threadbare and stained with dirt. Even though his was new and bright from bleach, the image of grimy, heated, sweat-soaked sex appeared in her head along with the memory he resurrected in her mind of her father’s workers toiling in the sun, their hairy, sinewy arms one moment swinging a scythe, the next ready for the lush curves of a woman’s body and the wet warmth between sex-hungry thighs.
These images shocked her. How could she think of anything so vile?
Rupert removed the undergarment over his head and Antonia gasped; her eyes terrorized by their mutual lust. Then as his trousers hit the floor, change, cufflinks clanking on the bare wood, his eyes still fixed on her, a cry caught in her throat.
She struggled with the rope that bound her wrists. Would she have moved away in fright, or covered her mouth in horror had she the use of her hands? Her gaze now rested on his crotch, where behind the blue silk jockey shorts that smoothly covered his groin, she could see the outline of an erection that challenged her imagination. Once she’d seen Hector, her father’s overseer naked in the shower—an accident. She’d stood in the doorway of the servant’s bath, expecting to see her mother’s maid Esperanza there, scrubbing tiles, and remained frozen, eyes glued to the wet, browned body of the middle-aged foreman as he showered. His face may have been eroded by the sun and his advancing years, but his body was as virile as a twenty-year-old’s. His was the only male organ she’d ever seen in the flesh, and his was limply at rest, shriveled and non-threatening.
Afraid to look more at her husband’s proud equipment, Antonia finally shut her eyes. She was ready, yes. Prepared. Rupert had prepared her. And was this not the moment of female triumph she had been dreaming of her life long?
She sensed him moving closer, his body hovering over hers, the tip of his penis touching the readied opening. How rigid! How steady! He hardly grazed the sensitive flesh and she could discern its character.
“Antonia,” she heard his voice, but couldn’t respond. “Look at me,” he ordered.
She opened her eyes. She could not fail to look at him with his body so close, suspended over hers, his torso supported by his powerful arms, his legs once again straddling her hips. She stared into his impervious black eyes feeling more like a child now than a bride. So small, so very small. Her body seemed to shrink under his forceful aura of domination, as though she’d been kidnapped as a prize of war.
She felt the hurt rip her long before his groin pressed into her body and Rupert’s savage member tore away her innocence. There was no mercy now, no consideration for her inexperience; the groom battered his bride with brutish force, laying waste the fantasy, and escorting her with sneering satisfaction into the reality of her new life.
She was in tears, rivers of them streaming down her temples. “Please, my love!” she gasped when she could take no more.
“Cherish your duty as you promised me,” he threw her own words back at her.
Yes, remember the covenant, the vow! Antonia desperately engaged in this solemn wifely duty for as long as the moment lasted, until her husband finally exploded his seed into her and buried it deep. He cried loudly as he came and then collapsed to the bed beside her, sated.
The pair lay in silence. Antonia was too in shock to speak, but as she recovered, the hurt that centered in her belly swelled in the most unusual, most delicious way. The pain turned into a frantic ache. She arched her back and thrust her pubic mound into the air, wantingly.
“Oh, has my bride changed her mind about what she can take?” Rupert was cognizant enough to ask. “Is she willing to be used again?”
“Oh, I am so sorry to have disappointed you. I didn’t mean to be such a baby…”
“Shush!” he said, with a finger over her lips. “Sex is something to get used to. Virgins are all alike. You are no different.”
“Oh? So, you’ve had…more than…me?” she asked, her voice sounding very young.
He laughed heartily. “I should hope so. I’m a thirty-seven-year-old man, and did not bring my virginity to this marriage bed.”
“No. I don’t suppose you would have.” His hand had begun to fondle her privates in a tender gesture that expanded the feelings of lust that now brewed there.
“I do think your…your…your penis inside me,” she could barely say the word, “aroused me, even when it hurt so badly,” she said with some awe.
“Did it now?”
"Oh, I’d give so much to be able to touch you, Rupert.”
“You will, in time. But I’m not finished using you, my bride.” The darkness in his expression returned, as if he’d tapped into some subterranean vault where he stored another kind of passion—a ruthless, frenzied devotion to a malevolent force.
He moved on her again, ripping away the clothes that still clung to her body. When he couldn’t successfully tear them off with his hands, he reached for scissors in the bedside table and began to cut them off.
“What are you doing?” she asked, with some distress.
“What does it look like?” he beamed evilly. “I’m disrobing my wife.”
“But these were new. Papa bought them special for today.”
“You’re not your Papa’s girl anymore. You’re mine.” He said this with such conviction that she’d have no doubt.
Her eyes widened, a dark fire brewed within them, and as she spoke, her voice lowered, answering his resolve with her own. “Oh, I believe I am yours.”
Roused by her feverish response, Rupert moved on aggressively. His kisses covered her mouth, her face, her neck down to the swell of her bounteous breasts. “Ah, beautiful, so beautiful.” He kissed them vigorously and sucked the milk white flesh at their sides until she felt the pain of it make her crotch spasm, low rolling waves of physical ecstasy flooded her system. Another explosion was near.
Rupert returned to her face. “And these lips. They have work to do, darling. Things to learn. Ways to please me.” He kissed her mouth and pulled at her lips with his teeth, not to break skin, but like an animal devouring flesh. Their mouths met, open tongues gliding over sensual surfaces. He lay so close to her that Antonia could feel his once placid penis throbbing at her hip. The heat of it attacked her belly.
He grabbed a breast while journeying down her neck with his mouth. “Ooo, yes, my luscious one…so many things I have in mind for you.”
Then he suddenly pulled up, moving over her, this time straddling her head where the powerful scent of his penis and testes flooded her senses.
“Oh, my,” she gasped, as Rupert’s half-awakened organ touched her lips.
“Yes, that’s it, darling, open your mouth for me.”
Her body shuddered with fear and her wet lips trembled. Still, they parted slightly as her husband ordered, as he pushed the head of his penis against them. She watched the thick organ expand before her eyes and grew alarmed seeing the size of him. She realized now why her untried interior had been so pained, stretching to fit this enormous monster. Was he typical of most men, or especially blessed?
“That’s it, darling, lick it.”
He held his amazing tool steady in his hand, while her brain worked crazily to understand what purpose her husband had in mind.
“Use your tongue. Your lips. Kiss it.” He encouraged her with a smooth, velvety voice, as her tongue made contact with the silky surface. She tasted the salty sweat and the remnants of her own body juices. “That’s it, sweetheart.” He smiled lustfully, holding her enrapt. She could do nothing but what obviously pleased him. She lapped his penis tentatively, strangely roused by the odd and unexpected activity, and yet thinking how terribly disgusting this would be on any other night but this one. Was this what it meant to be a wife? “Good, girl. But just a little deeper.” Rupert pressed downward. “Open wide and relax your mouth.”
The head of his member was small enough to fit inside her mouth, but as the stalk widened to its hefty girth, the act required more than she could manage—or so she thought. She gagged and coughed him out.
“No, no,” he shook his head and guided her face back beneath the demanding organ.
“You can do this, sweetheart. It just takes your submission. Think of yourself as a vessel, no more. My plaything, my pleasure palace, the body that your husband feasts on to satisfy his need. Think of that and nothing more.” Mesmerized by every word, Antonia opened her mouth while staring at his lips. “Ooo, yes, that’s right. Take it in, darling.” He moved the head inside her mouth again. “That’s it, yes, perfect, yes, your mouth is all mine. You feel it in your pretty pussy, no?” He slid a little deeper.
Antonia felt her lower body quake, just as his crude words caressed her. “Yes. Oh, so beautiful, so very beautiful. You want me in you, huh?” He smiled and forced himself further into her throat, her lips stretched to their limits.
Her mind knew that she was on the verge of gagging again, but as she listened to his encouraging words, she fed off the sound of them, and relented with every atom in her being concentrating on letting go and becoming the object of pleasure he wanted her to be.
“Yes, yessss…” Being as deep in her as he dared for now, Rupert began to rock slowly in and out of her wide-open mouth. With each stroke he pressed a little further, gradually finding room for six, then seven, then nearly eight inches of his organ inside her mouth. “Perfect, yes…”
Antonia soon felt her roused husband drift into himself, into his body and the pleasure of hers. He seemed to lazily slip from this world into another, and picked up speed, moving in a regular rhythm just as he had when he claimed her womanhood. She felt her own self drop away and become no more than the conduit for his physical revelry. Instinctively, her tongue began to work its way around the shaft, her jaw, her mouth began to suck with vigor. Every time he asked for more, and prodded to the back of her throat, she gave him the space he demanded.
“Yessss, ooo yes, yes,” he hissed. His eyes were closed; his head thrown back. She could feel the wild redolence of his energy pour out on her in a swooshing wave. Anticipating his climax, her belly responded with her body bucking back and forth as if there were something taking her womb even though that was impossible.
Then, with a sudden shudder that began in him and moved into her, Rupert ejaculated a load of semen that began at the back of Antonia’s throat and continued in hot liquid spurts as he slowly withdrew. The taste of him was sweet and thick, a creamy, curious substance she’d never tasted and didn’t know whether to love or hate. Again, the image flashed into her mind of sweaty laborers taking succulent senoritas, raising skirts and pummeling private places with hard shocking thrusts to explosive, grimacing, growling ends. She altered the image this time, thinking of women on their knees, between their lover’s hard thighs, pretty mouths stuffed with the sweaty meat of animal passion.
She was one of those women now. Like any other slut on her wedding night.
“Ah, Antonia, once I get you trained, these lips will be quite a mouthpiece for pleasure,” Rupert said with certainty, as he sank back into the mattress, again exhausted and satisfied.
Antonia wondered what he could possibly mean, but was so tired, so very tired… she drifted to sleep before she could ask. Her hands remained tethered above her, but that hardly mattered now. She was being trained to submit.
(c) Copyright 2013 by Lizbeth Dusseau, all rights reserved. Not be used without permission.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Friday, March 7, 2014
Paddle, Cane and a Scalded Ass
With spring this year comes a new Lizbeth Dusseau title:
Spontaneous Combustion
Look for it mid-April
For now, a hot, sexy and sensuous punishment scene between a Master and his new sub.
The novel, Against Her Will: The Abduction of Kat Bloom, has always been one of my favorite books... Meredith and Alain one of my favorite D/s couples. Because certain words are now banned on some of the large retail ebook sites, you may need to search for this novel with it's "vanilla" name: The Seduction of Kat Bloom
Excerpt: Paddle, Cane and a Scalded Ass
From Against Her Will: The Abduction of Kat Bloom
by Lizbeth Dusseau (c) Copyright 2006, all rights reserved.
What led to the first skirmish between these two unlikely lovers was probably apropos; their relationship began at the office, and it was one of Meredith Shaw’s nervous faux pas that ignited the smoldering fires in them both. Alain was working late on a new case that had landed on his desk that day, when the new file clerk from records appeared at his door and abruptly stopped on seeing him pouring over the evidence file on his desk. The lovely brunette Meredith Shaw honestly didn’t know he’d be there. In fact, she had intended to slip the missing files on his desk as if they’d been delivered by a thief giving back what he’d just snatched. Now with him still hard at work, she couldn’t be that shrewd.
She held her breath waiting for Alain to raise his head, then noted the look of surprise when he finally did.
“Miss Shaw?”
“Sir?”
“Is there a reason why you’re standing at my door?”
“Yes, sir. I-I heard you were looking for these …um… files.” She walked forward and placed them on his desk, although before she could draw back her hand he had one wrist clutched inside his steely palm. They hadn’t seen each other since the signing of the contract was completed in the presence of Mistress Ana and Janis Duncan at the X-Club two nights prior. It had been his plan to initiate their relationship at her apartment that night. But now she was so far inside his space it was impossible to stop what thundered through his anxious body.
He swiveled in his desk chair, while guiding the lovely young woman so she was directly between his open thighs, his hand still tightly grasping her wrist.
“I thought that your working in Records would place less stress on you.”
She smiled weakly, chagrined. “I’m so nervous.”
“I can see.”
“I’m sorry to let you down. I really don’t know what happened to those files on the gallery theft, but it won’t happen again.” She looked down at the Captain – her master – gulping back her threatening tears, while feeling her entire body shiver as he conveyed the authority, the calm, the good judgment she so longed to experience from a man.
“No, it won’t happen again, or I’ll have no choice but to let you go.”
“Please, sir, I can’t lose this job!”
“Then you know what you have to do.” He waited for her response and when there was none, he added, “Maybe now’s the time to properly deal with your recent mistakes. Perhaps, getting punished will work where lectures failed?”
She blinked and bit her lower lip, every nerve in her was on fire, as Alain let go of her hand, rose from his chair and directed his quivering submissive to the far side of his desk. He closed and locked his office door, pulled the blinds and moved to a nearby cabinet from which he withdrew a three inch spanking paddle and a bamboo cane.
“The paddle’s to warm your ass. The cane’s to up the pain. Bend over, Miss Shaw.”
As if she’d been shocked, the electricity in the air attacked her body. She was so frightened that she could barely move, but she did manage to bend over the desk and rest her torso on her arms. From the corner of her eye, she watched her master lay the tools down beside her, then remove his coat and roll the sleeves of his starched white shirt to the elbow. Why this image had such a daunting effect on a submissive, she couldn’t explain, but they both understood the power of an act that was almost a cliché in the Dominant/submissive mindset.
“The paddle’s to warm your ass. The cane’s to up the pain.”
The words moved through her mind another trigger for her astonishing arousal. Never. Never had it been like this before. Her shudder deepened as she watched him pick up the leather paddle, and then again as he moved around behind her and carefully lifted her skirt. As he reached for the band of her nylon panties, she emitted a small groan. Every excruciating second ticked by in slow motion, drawn to a finely turned edge before the next began. So nervous, so aroused, she was about to spontaneously come. However, her feelings promptly changed. After he drew the nylon over her bottom and down to the top of her thighs, he positioned himself for the best angle, and SMACK!
She lunged forward, gasping from the sudden and brutal sting.
Again and again, the surface of her bare ass took the repeated blows from the not-so-mild leather. This was hardly warming up; she was hot from the start, punished, rebuked and reprimanded for a string of mistakes, missteps and thoughtless blunders she’d committed over the last year, as if the collective disapproval of Captain Danvers and his staff was finally being realized in this one punitive expression.
She hung on, cringing desperately, vowing that she wouldn’t cry out no matter what. A prudent decision on her part – in the past Alain was known to gag a distraught sub who showed no inclination to contain her emotions.
When he finally paused, it was long enough for Meredith to feel a sudden, surging heat spread throughout her lower regions. Then when he started in again, he aimed for her upper thighs and moved even lower, where the skin could barely take the punishing blows. He retreated briefly to her reddened ass end, then returned to her thighs, and went back and forth until a string of muffled moans escaped her lips and her tortured behind made some efforts to escape further beating.
She slumped miserably against the desk when he finally stopped.
“Pull yourself back upright, young lady!” he crisply ordered.
She struggled with the command, but was then rewarded for her efforts with the palm of his large hand covering one ass cheek. He gently squeezed. It was all she could do not to wriggle against the sweetness of that tender caress. He held her at the ass and the shoulder as if he were laying claim to her body and soul, a declaration more lucid than any contract she would ever sign.
“If ever there was a woman who needed a firm hand to guide them, it is you, Meredith.”
Oh, dear! She never remembered him calling her anything but Miss Shaw.
“And you have much to atone for.”
He backed away leaving the imprint of his virile energy crawling through her aroused body.
“And not a sound,” he warned tersely, as he plucked the cane from his desk.
She cringed but she didn’t utter a word, while pouring every ounce of determination into bearing the pain she knew would follow. Never had it been more clear to her that this strict discipline was exactly what her life had been missing, and that Alain Danvers was the perfect man to effectively deliver that discipline
Directly across her two smoldering ass cheeks, Alain laid the first angry cut of the bamboo cane. He felt every one ripple through his nerves as it laid a dark red welt through the deep pink blush of Meredith Shaw’s lovely ass. One…two…three…four…five…six…
His cock was ravenous and his full power engaged for the final six cuts that made successive lines down her lower ass cheeks to the tender flesh of her upper thighs. As each one struck, he felt every nerve in Meredith’s body seize up …seven… eight…nine… and heard her strain valiantly to muffle her response to the fierce pain; it wasn’t easy… ten… eleven… twelve.
Done at last, he laid the cane back on his desk next to the paddle, then moved in close behind her, reaching in-between her thighs with one hand and embracing her with his other arm.
“Feet apart,” he ordered, to give himself greater access to the wet treasure of her sex. Wet, indeed! A deluge of fragrant juices escaped her vagina and covered his hand. Her body seized up as he toyed with the molten valley, as she moaned, reaching her orgasm almost from the very first touch. Two at first, then three fingers slipped into the clenching cavern while he listened for her responding gasp. Then he used his fingers like a cock, bringing her to one, then another, then another climax. Three times she shuddered against him, almost crying, and certainly too overcome to know exactly what was happening. As her plight deepened in intensity, he pulled in directly behind her ass, and setting his organ free, plunged into the steamy cunt, letting her spasming muscles work him to the finish.
His erection surged on, pounding her forcefully, then at the moment he came, he clutched her punished cheeks in his hands and let go with groans that came from deep in his gut.
The two remained fused together for sometime after the last of their spasms died away. His hard-on receded and they caught their breath. Then awakening from his sexual stupor, he kissed the back of her neck and her mass of unruly hair and behind her ear, where his tongue lovingly probed.
He hadn’t felt like this in years. So alive. So powerful. So in charge. This woman now owned, surrendered, his to mold as he desired.
When they finally broke apart, she, without being told, dropped to her knees between his legs and cleaned his organ with her mouth, laving it lovingly until he carefully pushed her back.
“It’s good there are some things you don’t have to be told,” he said kindly.
“I pleased you?” she gazed up in awe.
“Enough for one night, yes.”
By the time Meredith was on her feet, his cock was back inside his pants and he sat behind his desk looking as calm as he had when she first entered the office.
What intimacy the two shared became cloaked behind the veil of their chosen roles. He could only give her small pieces of himself, when in fact, he was having the overpowering urge to dive in totally. But, being a master of his emotions, he contained them well for the moment. Urges to entangle himself in her life needed to be purged of the aggressive force behind them. He could give nothing away too soon. Dominant men did not do that; they didn’t wear their feelings on their sleeves and they couldn’t display any weakness until their control had been firmly established. He knew all this as he tucked his feelings back inside his clothes as neatly as he’d earlier tucked away his cock.
“Thank you, sir,” the quivering young woman managed.
Alain couldn’t be sure, but she seemed more nervous than she was before. Normally punishment whacked the tension from a frightened submissive. But it was safe to assume that she was still in awe of what they were about: his obligation to punish her faults, her commitment to surrender, and his right to use her body for his personal pleasure. It was certainly a terrifying if not, arousing situation she’d openly agreed to.
“My duty and my pleasure,” he replied to her ‘thank you’, resuming his typically curt manner. “While this was not exactly what I had in mind for your initiation, I think it serves us both well. And it should remind you, that your job is all part of the package with me. I expect you’ll reform your ways in Records and do your work efficiently. I don’t think you’re a dumb woman.”
“I’m not, sir,” she rushed in, as was typical.
Meanwhile, he leaned back in his desk chair. “You went to college, hum?”
“Yes, sir, four years.”
“What did you study?”
“Art, poetry and literature.”
He looked a little stunned. “So why, in heavens name, are you working here?”
“I needed the job, sir. I have to eat.”
She was perfectly serious. He smiled, amused.
“Have you ever thought that you might be wasting your talents working in a police station?”
“Of course, except that I don’t know my talents. I love the arts, but I’m not very good at them.”
“I see. Is that your assessment or your instructors’?”
“I’m not really sure, sir.”
“Well, it’s time you were sure about something, Miss Shaw. Paint me a picture, write me a poem, a story something…anything.”
She gazed back puzzled. “You mean that?”
“Yes. I mean that. There’s got to be more to Meredith Shaw than a beautiful body, a sweet smile, and incoherent conversation.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t see about it, just do it.”
“Yes, sir.” She nervously fumbled with her skirt, having just realized that it was all cockeyed. “Now may I go, sir?”
All of a sudden she was anxious to leave. He was amused again. She wasn’t unlike most submissives when they’d had enough. And indeed, they’d both had enough for one night. “Yes, you may go.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)