America Mastered
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Being Mastered 2 free porn video
I felt like I had been standing in the corner for an hour. Maybe I had. The situation I found myself in, so exposed and humiliated, had led me to lose all track of time. I felt a rush of redness to my face as I thought back on the spanking and paddling I had already received that night. My ass still felt like it was on fire, but I could also feel the sticky wetness between my thighs – my body’s way of betraying me, showing him just how much I had also been turned on by his attentions.
I strained to hear any noise from behind me. Was he still there, watching, waiting for me to move, to take my hands down and provide some relief to my throbbing butt, only to use that as an excuse to begin my punishment once more. And yet, did it really matter? After all, he’d already warned me to use my time in the corner to think about what might be coming next.
Finally a creak behind me confirmed that he was still there, taking his time to enjoy the sight of my already glowing ass while I stewed on what he still had in store for me.
“You can take your hands of your head, but don’t touch your bottom”, his deep voice rumbled. “Remove your shirt, and your bra, and then turn around.”
I almost groaned with relief as I lowered my arms. My fingers trembled, not just from tiredness, as I slowly undid each button and slipped my shirt off my shoulders. I let it drop behind me to the floor. Then I reached back and undid the clasp on my sheer black lace bra, slid it forward, releasing my full breasts, and let that drop too. My panties remained wedged high into my ass crack, where he had left them after my paddling. I turned around to face my tormentor. In a strange way, I looked forward to showing off the rest of my body to him, hopefully gaining his approval.
He took the time to enjoy the sight of my body, breasts on display and my pussy barely hidden by the scrap of black lace of my panties, before he spoke again.
“I think you’re ready for the final phase of your discipline this evening”, he said sternly. “Have you spent your corner time wisely? What have you bee thinking about?”
“Yes, sir” I whispered. “I’ve been thinking about what a naughty girl I’ve been, and how much I needed to be taught this lesson.”
“Anything else?”
“Ummmm… that I’m fortunate to have such a generous master to punish me for such unacceptable behaviour. And to take his valuable time to make sure I learn how to behave better in the future.” My voice was stronger this time, the words coming more confidently.
“And?” One eyebrow arched, he continued to regard me from his position across the room.
Crikey, I thought, how much more does he want?
My cheeks started to blaze again when I realised he was waiting for me to ask him to complete my punishment. He meant my humiliation to be complete by making me beg for the kind of correction only he could give me.
I couldn’t look at him. My eyes dropped to the floor in submission, and my voice dropped back to a husky whisper again as I forced myself to say the words I dreaded, but knew I must. “Please, sir… please will you complete the necessary punishment as you see fit, sir?”
“Good. You are learning. I will be pleased to provide you with the punishment you so richly deserve.”
He stood up and strode towards me. Before I could lift my eyes from the floor, he reached out and took one of my exposed nipples between his strong fingers. The pressure was at once arousing, but verging on painful as he squeezed and then tugged me forwards. It was uncomfortable to walk upright, my nipple throbbing and my ass cheeks chaffing against the panties he’d so cruelly jerked up there earlier. He used continued pressure on my nipple to lead me over towards the desk, where I could see a tall stool off to one side.
The stool was tall, like a bar stool, with a red leather cushioned top. The legs were heavy wood, slightly splayed. Once I stood in front of it, he gave my nipple one final sharp tweak, bringing tears to my eyes and a gasp from my throat. I felt his rough hands grab each slim lacy side of my panties and jerk them down out of my ass crack.
“You won’t be needing these any more” he growled, as he slid them roughly over my already tender ass and let them drop to around my ankles. While they’d hardly covered anything, I still blushed as I accepted I was now fully naked. I was totally on display, totally at his whim.
“Bend over the stool.”
As I leaned forward, I realised there were cuffs attached to each leg of the stool. Not hand cuffs, like you might see a police officer with, but leather cuffs, each on a short chain that was then bolted to each of the stool’s legs, low down at floor level.
He moved in front of me, crouching and taking hold of my left hand. Passively, I watched him strap my left wrist into the first cuff. He made it snug, and the short chain only gave me a couple of inches movement. My right wrist followed. The stool was of a height so that I could still keep my feet on the floor, and my breasts hung over the front edge of the cushion. My long black hair cascaded down over my head and towards the floor, forming a curtain around my face. My ass felt high in the air, and I knew he would see my glistening pussy as he stepped back behind me again.
I heard rather than saw him step across to the desk. He picked something up. He used the tip of it to part my hair to one side, so that he could see my face, and I could see what he was holding.
It was a black riding crop – about 30 inches long, with a bound leather grip, a slender flexible shaft and finishing in a folded leather swat. Something I’d only seen in pictures before. Well, now I was seeing the real thing. And up close.
He moved behind me. I felt the cold leather of the swat slide from my right calf up the inside of my leg, moving inexorably up to between my thighs. Changing his angle, he tapped the swat back and forth a couple of times between my upper thighs.
“Spread them”, he barked.
I had to step out of my panties, which were still in a lacy puddle around my ankles. I shuffled my legs apart, knowing that I was exposing more and more of my private parts to him with every slight movement. My breasts jiggled slightly from side to side with the motion, and the contact of them against the leather of the stool’s cushion top was distracting, and actually quite pleasant.
My attention was jerked quickly back to what he was doing between my legs, as he changed the angle of the swat yet again, and was now tapping the flat of it firmly against the lips of my pussy, and the tight button of my clitoris. I felt a rush of warmth to my groin, and my pussy slips began to swell further and get even more slick. My inner thighs started to tremble, with the growing rush of my arousal. For a moment, I dared hope that the final part of the evening’s activities might involve my sexual release, instead of the whipping I had expected. Would he want to fuck me, now that he had me at his mercy? Certainly his breathing seemed to be getting heavier and heavier – maybe he was getting just as aroused by the situation.
But then the swat disappeared, and he crouched down behind me. I could see from my upside down position that he feasted his eyes on my exposed pussy and ass, even as he reached forward to grab one of my ankles. I felt my legs pulled further apart, as he attached the cuffs first to one ankle, then the other, holding me truly spreadeagled over the stool. I was totally vulnerable. He could do anything to me. And all I would be able to would be scream.
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