Horny Desperate Housewives Do you crave the touch of an experienced woman? A naughty playmate that'll make all your wildest phone sex fantasies come true? Do yo think you can you handle the hot, horny, and desperate, housewives? These are no ordinary women! 1-888-47-Horny |
**FOLLOW THE RULES**She sighed, annoyed, hearing the echo of her dogs barking incessantly from the floor above. Her heels clicked across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the front of the townhouse before the visitor had the opportunity to ring the bell again. Upon opening the door she saw him. Standing with his weak shoulders hunched slightly forward, he raised a trembling hand to sweep the straight grey hair back from his sweaty forehead and over the top of his balding scalp before offering it to her. "Ms. Heather?" He said in an anxious and questioning tone. She gave him a quick once over, ignoring the damp hand he extended. Hazel eyes that were far less than spectacular were revealed under hair that was two months overdue for a haircut by her standards. Those eyes squinted nearly shut above the bulbous nose and nervous thin lipped smile that spanned his round ruddy face. A button down plaid shirt was tucked tightly into the chino's that were a size too small and cutting into the rolls of fat that made up his mid-section. He was in his fifties, but appeared to be in his mid-sixties. That was Edward, obliviously unaware of his repulsive appearance and behavior. "You were told to wait patiently at the door for me. Specifically instructed not to ring the doorbell. Did I say that, Edward, or am I imagining it?" Ms. Heather stood there, full of confidence, control, and attitude. Her left hand on her hip and the right on the door she had just opened. Her blue eyes fixed on his as he shifted uncomfortably under her stare. He felt panic surge through his body as he tried to breathe deeply and steady his thoughts before saying the wrong thing. The wrong thing? He nearly laughed, sensing his initial mistake had already landed him in more trouble than he had bargained for. "I'm s-sorry Ma'am" He managed to stutter as his gaze dropped to his feet. He began fidgeting. Shifting his weight from foot to foot like a chastised child. His stubby fingers clasped together tightly, attempting to keep one another from moving. His whiney voice, inability to remain still, keep eye contact and otherwise act like the grown man he was, irritated her further. Lack of self control always disgusted her, though he couldn't know that. He knew nothing more than she had the ability to give him what he desired. And at this moment, he wasn=t so sure that he desired it anymore. He found her website online about a month ago. She was different than the others involved in BDSM. Her approach was direct and lacked the blatant sexuality. Now, Edward enjoyed the raw sexuality approach too. The leather and latex made his cock hard at just the thought, but a Dominatrix of that nature was a dime a dozen in the Northeast. Yes, Ms. Heather was different. From the freshly pressed white blouse, knee length black skirt that gently clung to her shapely hips and ass, right down those stockinged legs to her black pumps. She was too clothed to tell exactly what was under all the fabric, but showed enough for him to know that he would like it if ever given the opportunity to take a look. "Come in, Edward." She said as she stepped aside and allowed him to pass her. Her expression still showing the obvious distaste in his poor choice upon arrival. He entered, as instructed, barely glancing up from his feet to thank her before stepping foot into her home. All of his other professional sessions had been in a dungeon setting. He'd never been invited into a Domme's home. Disciplinarian, he corrected himself mentally. Ms. Heather had been very clear that she was absolutely not to be confused with a Dominatrix. She actually said that, "absolutely NOT". With the tone in which it was stated, he felt guilty just thinking it. Still, the fact remained, he was in her home. It smelled of vanilla and of something else, though he could't quite put his finger on it. The vanilla was definitely laced with something. He didn=t dare ask or say anything. He was tempted to lift his gaze from the floor and look around, but didn't want to appear to be too curious. What was the protocol in a situation like this, he wondered? Before he had too much time to contemplate it, he heard her coming up behind him. He held his breath. Eyes wide, he listened intently. Was he to turn around and look at her? He didn't. He just stood there, in what he assumed was her living room. Was the session going to begin now? Had it already begun? He heard a door open to his left and realized that she wasn=t behind him at all, though he=s certain she was at least for a moment. Wasn't she? "Go downstairs, Edward. Wait for me." She said as she flicked the light switch on the wall just inside the opened door and turned back to look at him. "Yes, Ma'am." He said as he lifted his head and returned the gaze. Her expression hadn't softened as he had hoped and quickly his eyes shifted to the open door to escape her stare. He walked past her, through the open doorway and began down the stairs to the left. He groaned quietly as he looked at the bottom of the stairs and realized he still couldn=t see the room in which the session would be held. Not that turning that corner was too much trouble, only that he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that he knew utterly nothing. She had warned him that she wasn't into role play scenarios and that what he would receive here would be real. He wasn't uncomfortable with it before, but he was uncomfortable with it now. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed with fear, yet nothing had really happened yet. He suddenly had a new appreciation for the hours of scripted, predictable play he had thought he had grown bored of. He longed for that boredom now. As he neared the bottom of the stairs he hesitated before turning the corner. After all, he could still back out, right? He breathed a sigh of relief after quickly surveying the room. Normal. A small round table with two chairs on either side sat to the right. A cream colored backless sofa, armoire, a desk with a lamp, and something that seemed to resemble a child=s picnic table and benches, all placed carefully throughout the room. Nothing unusual down here. Nothing to be afraid of, that's for sure. He smiled as he noticed the high backed upholstered chair in the corner to the left and Edward suddenly felt like his old self once again. "Yes, Ms. Heather, I've been a naughty boy. Come spank my bottom until I'm sorry." Oh, he couldn't wait to be naked over her stocking clad thighs. After all, he had been masturbating to that vision ever since he first saw that picture of her on the site. Her legs crossed and hairbrush in hand with that stern look on her pretty face. She certainly could pull of that 'take no shit' disposition that he craved so deeply. His lewd thoughts were interrupted by the now familiar sound of her clicking heels coming through the ceiling above his head. He heard her shut the door and begin to descend down the staircase. Shoulders back, head up and chest out, gently swaying her hips from side to side. He couldn't yet see her, but he could imagine. And with each step that she took approaching him he felt his desire stir. He wiped the smile from his face before she had the opportunity to witness it. After all, he was more than willing to play along with her little dominance game. It was a game he had become very accustomed to playing. Turning the corner she saw him standing there and immediately noticed his demeanor had changed. He looked directly into her eyes now, no longer fraught with the emotions she saw in him only moments before. She wasn't at all concerned though. She had learned through experience that men respond in one of two ways when left to their own devices down in her basement. Some become more frightened with each passing second. They begin to doubt their decision and the slightest action on her part is grossly amplified by their emotions. Others, Edward included, regain composure. They regroup and resort to the same crude thoughts that led them to her doorstep to begin with. The ones venturing blissfully unaware into the riptide, ignoring all of the caution signs posted . They are use to the faux domination that is force fed to any gullible soul that goes wandering aimlessly through that wonder we call the World Wide Web. Wildly attractive, scanty clad women that do nothing more than play pat-a-cake with his ass while scolding the 'naughty boy'. Then they flip them over play with other thing. Ms. Heather was far from that widely known stereotype. She was real. Her focus was to whip ass and to whip ass well. She told every prospective client the same thing, but some were so deeply programed by the pornographic images they jerk off to daily that they didn't care enough to listen. It wasn' their fault really, but she couldn't resist taking enjoyment in their ignorance. She began closing in on him in the center of the room. The carpeted floors quieting her heels and the space was left silent, apparently awaiting her music. Ms. Heather smiled. Not the warm welcoming smile that you might expect from a lady, but the devious governing smile of a mildly sadistic woman with a plan. As that smile graced her face it seemed to draw out of him that previous feeling of uncertainty. He began to again doubt his sanity as well as his safety. He wondered if his desire to lose control was what he truly wanted in real life. "You think this is a game, Edward." She stated, standing less than a foot from him, appearing to read the thoughts that ran through his head. In her pumps she was still a good five inches shorter than he was, but the height he had on her didn't matter a bit now. He couldn't sense an ounce of weakness in her; not in the way she spoke and not in the way in which she carried herself. He wished at that moment he was so confident. "You do. I can smell the arrogance permeating through your ill fitting clothes. I can see it in the way that you look at me. As if you believe I'm actually here to fulfill your sick fantasies." She walked around him, surveying his body language. Realizing that she was well on her way to having him once again. She allowed herself to smile briefly while his back was to her. This is far too easy sometimes, she thought. "Stand up straight, Edward." She said as she made her way back in front of him, placing the index finger of her right hand under his chin, lifting it. Her fingertip was cool and she let it linger for a moment before removing it. Again standing before him she said, "I don"t care what you do once you walk out that door, but while you are here you are to present yourself to me in the best manner possible, Understood?" She continued without offering him the opportunity to answer. "I don't want you hanging your head, slouching and coming across like a piece of garbage. Garbage gets put outside, Edward." "Respect, Edward." "Respect for me and my home, Edward." "I do not waste my time on those that do not deserve my attention. Your job, among other things, is to ensure that I never feel as if I'm wasting my time, Understood?" This time she waited. Suddenly he realized she wanted a response. "Yes, Ma'am." That was the only answer that he was sure was acceptable at this moment. He wanted desperately to explain himself, find a way to enter into her good graces, maybe even get into that skirt, but he got the sense from her that it wasn't going to happen so easily if at all. "Not that I truly wish to see your over indulged body revealed anymore than it is at this moment, but I'm afraid that you are going to have to get undressed, Edward." A look of disgust on her face made him hesitate. This wasn't at all what he had signed up for. This wasn't fun. He was being insulted. He wasn't about to... She interrupted his thoughts "Edward, I'm beginning to feel as if my time is being wasted again. Why is that? Did I not just go over this? Are you having a difficult time absorbing the information? Should I talk slower for you? You came here to have me whip your ass, Edward, and that is exactly what I intend to do. If you want to pout because your feelings are hurt then do it while you are naked and bent over" With that, she paused, challenging him silently. "Are we going to continue or are you going to tuck your tail between your legs and go home?" She raised her brows, waiting. He was embarrassed and ashamed. The last thing he wanted at that moment was to be naked in front of her. Yes, he came here under the guise of weight loss, but didn't she know that all he really wanted was for her to dominate him? 'Real' wasn't suppose to mean REAL. The options ran through his head. There were really only two, leave or stay. He wasn't leaving. "We'll continue, Ma'am", Edward stated with all the confidence he could muster. "Good, get undressed. You can put your clothes over on that bench. Neatly. Remember, the details are important here, Edward." Upon completing that statement she stood there, hands on her hips, waiting. He felt uneasy having her watch him undress, but he did his best to ignore the feeling. He was genuinely disappointed in himself for causing problems already and didn't want to create any more waves. His hands shook as he unfastened the button on his trousers, fumbling around for the zipper. Pulling his pants down his thighs, he stops, sighs and shakes his head. Shoes. He had forgotten to take them off. This woman, this Ms. Heather, made it difficult for him to think clearly. She watched, shaking her head and giving a quiet laugh of disbelief as he clumsily attempted to take his shoe off while his pants were unfastened and he was still standing. "Sit down. You aren't going to fall and knock yourself out and get away from me so easily." He smiled, relieved that she had at least shown a slight sense of humor. Sitting on the sofa he managed to remove his shoes and socks. He wore sneakers today and as he looked down at them he realized that it probably wasn't the best choice to go with his attire, but they were comfortable. Edward was all about comfort. That's how he got to where he was in regards to weight and life. Comfort food, comfortable recliner at home, comfortable office job, comfortable relationship with his equally comfortable wife. The list goes on and on. Ms. Heather's words may have hurt, but he knew she was right. He also knew it was what he needed, even if he didn't want it. Maybe she'll be the kick needed to get back in shape. After all, he was on the track team in college. College, feels like a lifetime ago, but he was there once. "Come on, Edward. Stop stalling and finish getting undressed." And with that, playtime was over. Quickly he stood and finished undressing. Unbuttoning his shirt and removing his under shirt. He pulled the tight white briefs down his unproportionately skinny legs and folded every article neatly before placing them in a pile on the bench to his right. He stood in front of her. Nervous and awaiting instructions. She surveyed his body again, naked this time. He had never felt so uncomfortable being naked in front of a clothed woman before. His weight issue had also never been the subject for a session. All of the other women had politely ignored the sixty pounds of extra padding he was carrying around. He focused on the wall behind her and tried to block out her focus on his body. She moved across the room and opened the door to the armoire against the wall. He couldn't help himself, so he looked. Once he saw, he wished he hadn't. The armoire was altered on the interior. Pegs, lined across the back panel and the inside of the doors in two separate rows, hung various implements that he didn't want to experience. Her eyes scanned them. She was smiling again now. That devious smile, her eyes narrowing a bit. Her fingers glided lightly over the first row of paddles, lovingly almost. They moved under her touch and one gently bumped into another, the sound slicing through the thick silence in the room. The basement was cooler than the rest of the house and even though it was nearly summer, the chill remained in the air down here. It wasn't at all uncomfortable when clothed, but it amused her to see the goose bumps rise on a subject's flesh, their nipples harden and of course, that poor little cock trying to run for cover. There wasn't much about the little details that didn't amuse her in one fashion or another. She enjoyed the fact that there were no implements to be seen upon first glance. She enjoyed the strategically placed mirrors allowing her to view the painfully laced expressions of anyone that was subject to her discipline in any position that she might have them in. She enjoyed the fact that the carpet allowed her to easily maneuver around the room without being heard. Yes, there were many slight details that pleased her. As she stood there she certainly gave the impression that she was thinking intently about what implement she would select first. Of course, she had already decided, but she learned suspense is a wonderful tool. She was ever aware of the frightened naked man behind her and knew that he was ever aware of her moves as well. Ms. Heather paused for a moment with her hand on a thin unassuming paddle. She had no intent of using this weak implement, but she liked the thought of having him think, even if just for a moment, that she might be that easy. After nearly taking the paddle from the peg she hesitates and then pushes it back, reaching for the hairbrush that happens to be a favorite of hers. Hairbrush in hand, she turns back to face him. Edward, by this point, had resumed his gaze to the wall and was awaiting further instruction with cautious anxiety. "You're here because you're lazy. You've allowed that laziness to consume your life. It takes effort to move off of that fat ass and actually get some exercise, Edward, but I'm going to help you with that. I'm going to whip that sorry ass until I am 100% certain that you aren't going to be able to sit on it to be lazy. It's unfortunate for you that I'm not very easy to convince." She said while slapping the back of the brush rather forcefully into the palm of her own left hand. "Turn and look at me, Edward." Reluctantly, he turned slightly to the left and his eyes connected once again with hers. Though rightfully afraid, he couldn't help but feel at least a little excited at the vision of her in front of him with that brush in her hand. "There are a few rules while you are here. To disregard even one of these rules is to disrespect me. Disrespect is a caning offense. Know that I would love nothing more than to cane the hell out of you, Edward, so feel free to give me a reason to do so." The statement scared him. He had specified to her from the start that he didn't want to experience anything as severe as being caned. He also knew that she said the session he wanted was contingent upon him doing what was required of him. He thought she was kidding at the time. He wasn't certain now whether it was meant to be taken seriously, but he knew that he didn't want to test it. "Rule #1, always address me properly. Ms. Heather and Ma'am are both acceptable. Remember I am not your Mistress and I am certainly not your mommy." Her teeth clenched as she hissed the last sentence. "Rule #2, You are here for discipline and have agreed to relinquish control during this session, therefore, you are not to hesitate when given an order. You have a safe word, use it if you feel you must, but realize that the session stops immediately if you do decide to use it. If you do hesitate or procrastinate when given instructions there will be consequences assigned that will exceed the type of session you have requested." "Rule #3, Do your absolute best to remain in position. If you move out of position involuntarily after a stroke is given you are to resume that position as quickly as possible. Do not otherwise break the position until I have given you permission to do so." "If you fail to follow these simple rules you will receive a count. The count is weighed entirely upon my feelings in regards to your violations. It can and will vary depending on what has transpired and how I perceive those actions. Realize that if you do break one of these rules that you are obligated to take the discipline I assign for that transgression. Meaning, you do not have the option to use a safe word at that time. If you earn it, you will receive it!" His head swam with rules as she spoke. He was naked and cold and scared. He couldn=t be certain that he was able to follow these rules or even remember them. She began again. "After hearing the rules, do you agree and wish to continue, Edward?" She paused. This was his last chance to stop this before it began, but she knew that he wouldn't. There was no way that he was going to get dressed and walk out now, regardless of how scared he was. "Yes, Ma'am", He responded. "Good, Edward, then let's get started." She walked by him, he was relieved to not be subject to her stare any longer. Her nearly constant eye contact made him uneasy. She sat on the high-backed chair that he was admiring earlier. The image excited him immediately. The combination of her dominance and her beauty grabbed his attention and caused him to stir. She looked to him and was about to say something when she stopped. Her eyes glanced down and then she placed the hairbrush on the floor to her side and rose to her feet approaching him. "I see that you are not ready to continue, Edward. That you are not focused. I'm growing impatient with you. Obviously you think that I'm here to entertain you, however, you couldn't be more wrong. You are here to entertain me and I don't see how this little thing peaking out from under your fat stomach is going to do that." She said as she forcefully grabbed his cock with her right hand as she stood before him with an obviously disgusted look on her face. "But I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Edward." She said as she released him. "Come on. Entertain me. This is what you wanted, wasn't it? You came here for a sexual experience. I know you did. So, let's have it. Show me what you've got. Stroke that little cock..." She paused mid-sentence, glanced down at his genitals, taunting him with her amused expression. "That insignificant thing doesn't deserve to be called a cock, Edward. Cock sounds bigger, stronger, prouder than what you have. No, what you have is a puny little penis. So, stroke that puny little penis for me." He looked at her in utter disbelief. Not knowing what to say and not sure he could get the words out if he did know what to say. "I'm waiting and I'm going to continue to wait. We are absolutely not progressing until we take care of this. You have two minutes and for every five seconds beyond that two minutes I will give you 3 strokes of my cane. Wasting my time is disrespectful, we've gone over that." She walked over and grabbed the timer from the table. He hadn't noticed it before. Setting it she said, "Begin now." He looked horrified and embarrassed, still not moving. "Come on, Edward. Stroke that fucking little penis for me. I'm going to watch every second. I'm curious to see if it can bring you any pleasure, it's certainly not big enough to give pleasure to anyone else." She grabbed his right hand and forced it onto his cock. She glared at him, teeth clenched. "Now, Edward. One minute and forty seconds left. I bet you don't even need that much time." With that, he began to masturbate for her, but he didn't dare watch her watching him and he didn't dare watch what he was forced to do either. So, he lowered his head and closed his eyes and tried desperately to find a thought that would assist him. "This is exactly what I was hoping for today. To have an old, overweight, sloppy, balding man masturbating for me. Come on, Edward, faster." She shoved a box of tissues into his left hand and for a second he opened his eyes to look at what she handed him and then at her. Quickly he closed them again as he kept a firm grip on both the tissues as well as the object of attention in the other hand. "One minute left. I thought you would have finished by now, Edward. I mean, this is exciting, right? This is erotic. This is what you were looking for, the chance to jerk off in front of me." Stroking madly, he tried to block out the insults being thrown at him and focus on completing the task. There was no way he was going to fail and be caned. "You had better not cum on my carpet either. Use those tissues I gave to you and hope like hell you don't miss. You might only need one, I can't imagine much coming out of that little thing." She remained there, arms crossed, leaning back against the wall with her right foot crossed over the left, watching. Again she started. "Get the tissue ready, but don't you dare stop stroking. You have 40 seconds left, Edward. I'd work harder if I were you, unless you want to be caned?" Edward awkwardly braced the tissue box between his knees, continuing to masturbate under her gaze as he pulled three free from the box. With the tissues and the remaining box both now in his left hand he looked up at her, questioning with his eyes what he is to do with the box. "Set it down on the floor. 20 seconds left, Edward." She walked over and pulled the cane out of the drawer of the armoire. Furiously his right hand pumped away. "15." She walked over until she was standing a foot from him, alternating her stare from his face to his frantically moving hand. His body began to stiffen and she knew the orgasm was impending. She looked at the timer....10...9...8. He would make it in time and she was mildly disappointed with losing the opportunity to cane him, however, the session was far from over and hope wasn't lost quite yet. His hips jerked clumsily as the semen spilled into the tissue held in his right hand that was cupped in front of and below the head of his now softening penis. Ms. Heather knelt down by the table and grabbed the waste basket. Holding it out, he quickly balled up the tissue and dropped it in, still adverting his eyes. "Now that we've taken care of that are you ready to continue?" He wanted to say no, but didn't. He couldn't think straight and the only thing he knew at this moment was that he didn't want to have his ass whipped now. The embarrassment and humiliation he felt and fear of what she might do next kept him from voicing his opinions, thinking that there wasn't much of a chance of him getting out of here now without enduring what she had set out to accomplish anyway. "Yes, Ma'am." He said in nearly a whisper. "Excuse me, Edward? I couldn't hear you. Trust me when I tell you that you always want to speak in a tone that is loud enough for me to hear otherwise I might assume you said something else...something disrespectful." She seemed to challenge him with everything that she said. Daring him to give her a reason to push him further than he wanted to go. With purpose the words came out of his mouth this time. "Yes, Ma'am. I said, yes, Ma=am." She made her way back over to the chair that she was sitting in prior to the terribly embarrassing scene that just took place. After lowering herself onto the upholstered seat, she took her hands and smoothed the skirt over her thighs before reaching down and picking up the hairbrush once again. She patted her lap with her right hand. "Come here, Edward. To my right. Now, I want you over my lap. I want your weight on me, not on your wrists and so help you if I so much as feel that little penis of yours twitch against my thigh after what just happened here. Realize that since you have earned the discipline you are about to receive that you are not entitled to a safe word. You will take everything I deem appropriate for your behavior and you will strive to do your absolute best to please me. I will tell you when I am ready to move on with the session that you had scheduled and at that point the safe word is again yours to use if needed." Without hesitation he moved to her right side and folded himself over her lap. He was frightened that the soft fabric of her skirt against his groin would excite him. He prayed that she would begin before he became erect again, though he didn't want her to begin at all. At that moment the swats began. A slow, but steady stream beginning from the lower right cheek to the left. The intense sting was instantaneous and he struggled to remain in place. One after another they came, seeming to strike a new and more sensitive area each time. One, two, three, four, five, six.... he couldn't concentrate to count. All of his energy was focused on taking the brutal swats. He hadn't anticipated the pain hurting to this degree so early on. He couldn't have imagined the effect of that hairbrush. His ass was on fire, burning more intensely with every well placed swat. Ms. Heather wasn't slowing down, in fact, he could have sworn she had increased at least the force of her delivery if not the speed. The swats were being to run together. He was having difficulty determining one from another with the pain from the previous swats never having the opportunity to fade. She paused for a moment, having delivered a serious of twenty swats, ten perfectly placed swats per cheek. She loved the impression from a good wooden brush. The purple-ish red ring around the outside, leaving a white patch in the middle that within a minute engulfs itself in vivid pink. Edward didn't have much of an ass to speak of. The typical man's ass, actually. Flat, nothing to it. No fullness or volume at all. It wasn't an ass that appealed to her sexually, but she certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity to completely redden it. Big ass, little ass, flat ass, fat ass, it was all the same to her. She enjoyed the art of whipping ass. The feel of the various implements in her hand, the sound they make upon impact with bare flesh and the unique marks and welts that are left behind. She loved waiting until the entirety of both cheeks were well marked and then focusing on that little crease that lies between the upper thigh and the buttock. By the time she reached that spot, the person receiving the discipline is already well spent, exhausted and more than likely in tears. It can' get any worse, they think. It can always get worse. She prides herself on that. Prides herself on always being able to take them one step further than they can go or then they think she will go. She doesn' always have the freedom to do so. Thats the drawback to whipping ass professionally, but today with Edward, she will. She spoke to him. "You will learn that when you are here it's all business. You will not only act and carry yourself in a way that I find appropriate you will also learn to curb the indecent and disgusting thoughts that dance around in that head of yours. When I see outward manifestations of those thoughts, Edward, as I saw today, you will be held accountable for them. If your focus is 100% where it belongs then we will not have these problems. You will not dare to become erect in my presence again. And if you do, I will wait until it's taken care of and every time it happens the consequences will become more severe. Do not think for a moment that I will hesitate in spending the entire hour caning the hell of your sorry ass if that is what it will take. Understood?" "Yes, Ma'am. I understand, Ma'am." He said as he caught his breath and the burning began to fade to a moderate sting. And then all too soon she began again. The swats were slower this time. One might think that slower is better, but that's all a matter of perspective. This time slower was definitely not better. Not for him anyway. Slower was better for Ms. Heather though. Slower with more force, much more force. She covered his sorry ass over and over again with those powerful blows. She developed a pattern, lower right, lower left, outer right, outer left, etc. Edward was in too much pain to recognize any type of pattern. He just knew that the swats continued and he began hoping for an end. Never would he have thought that he would have so desperately wanted to call out his safe word so early on. He was certainly wishing he could use it right now. Ms. Heather knew quite well that he didn't have what it would take to endure this if she allowed him access to a safe word. Though the swats weren't terribly impressive by her standards, Edward was inexperienced with real discipline. She would bet that he was likely still confused by tangible pain and that his cries didn't require the effort of acting. She wanted to ensure that his attention would remain were it needed to be and off of that little distraction between his legs. She knew his desires were what led him here, however, she wanted to make sure she made it clear that she was all business. If she lowered the intensity at first sign of his discomfort then he might perceive that as a weakness. She was anything but weak. Edward began to squirm under the unwavering discipline she provided. He tensed the muscles of his buttocks and when the back of the hairbrush landed again it landed with a solid thud and the impact radiated up her right arm. Immediately she stopped. "Spread your legs further apart. I want you to point your toes in toward one another and let your heels relax and fallout to the side. Do you know what that does?" She asked. "No, Ma'am." He was hoping that it somehow made this experience more tolerable for him, but somehow he doubted that. "It lessens your ability to clench these cheeks, Edward." She said as she pinched his ass with her fingers. He quietly sighed and shook his head in disbelief, seeming desperate and overwhelmed. The swats continued, slower now with much less power. Less force was required at this point, his nerve endings were alive and on edge from the unforgiving disciplined received. The slightest slap at this point caused him to flinch and groan in pain. . "Oh, Edward, is this not what you expected? Do you not find it erotic? Come on, you're here naked, over my lap with your genitals pressing up against me. It's the stuff dreams are made of! Why isn't that turning you on?" She said, her voice laced with sarcasm as she lowered her arm with the rhythm of her words. Edward didn't respond. He couldn't. He began to give up, to give in. His body grew tired of the futile fight. His early grunts became whines; whines became moans and now the moans were becoming cries. She felt his shoulders slump forward and this time didn't find the posture distasteful. She knew she was breaking him. |
 TeleMate | Mistress Heather |  |
| Status | Available | |
| Phone | 1-866-450-8272 | |
| Sex | Female | |
| Age Range | 25-35 | |
| Ethnicity | Caucasian | |
| Bodytype | Slim | |
| Eye Color | Blue | |
| Hair Color | Black | |
| Cup Size | C | |
| Persona | Dominant | |
| Category | Fetish | |
| My Page | http://www.bdsmbeauties.com/mainheather.htm | |
| My Friends | See My Friends Listed on PSC | |
| Description | Do you love to worship women? You can worship any part of my luscious body...if I give you permission. I cater to naughty submissives just like you. I love to control whatever it is that makes you so deeply submissive. | |
© Copyright 2024 Phone SEX Central®. All rights reserved. Terms
04-23-2024