Erotic Author Melanie punished
- 3 years ago
- 48
- 0
Asking To Be Punished free porn video
I’ve been naughty. We both know it, but you are waiting for me to confess. You are waiting for me to come to you, to admit I need your discipline and guidance in order to behave. To willingly accept my punishment. To ask for it. To give up the choice to even keep my failings a secret.
And I do. I come in quietly and slip to my knees beside you, staring at the floor, barely able to whisper:
“Sir?”
“Yes.”
“I need to tell you,” I start, then I shake my head, already failing at this too.
“May I confess something to you?”
I feel you shift towards me, your gaze and judgement bearing over me, but you don’t make it easier, you remain silent, waiting for me.
“Sir, I’ve touched myself.”
“Where?”
My cheeks burn as I admit I had my hands between my thighs, my fingers on my clit. You encourage more, caressing my face as you hear how I defiled myself, how I pushed my fingers, one at a time, inside my cunt, how I fucked myself, how my thumb pinched my clit and I grinder down on my hand as hard as I could. You coax each detail from me gently, pulling out more and more embarrassing details. Finally:
“Did you cum?”
I nod and stare at the floor, “Yes Sir.”
“Hmm, I wonder, did you have permission to do this?”
You already know the answer and I am too ashamed to respond.
Instead of waiting you slap my face.
“Answer. Did you have permission to touch?”
“No Sir.”
You slap me again.
“Did you have permission to rub that clit?”
“No Sir.”
The slaps and questions come rapidly now, Permission to insert a finger? No Sir.
To insert two?
No Sir.
To insert three?
No Sir.
To pinch that clit?
No Sir.
To fuck that pussy?
No Sir.
To abuse your cunt?
No Sir.
To defile that body?
No Sir.
My face is read and my eyes are tearing, you grab my hair and yank my face up to look at you.
“Did you ask permission to use MY cunt? Were you allowed to cum without me?”
I realize my largest mistake. I’ve only admitted to touching myself, not to disrespecting what has become your property. I’m burning with dismay and humiliation at your disappointment and anger.
Your hand twists my hair tighter: “Answer.”
“No Sir.”
“What do you think should happen now? What have you done?”
I know what will happen, but now is when I have to ask for it, to really submit to it, I squirm on my knees with the struggle.
“I’ve earned your punishment Sir.”
“And how should I remind a dirty, disobedient, disrespectful, dripping, messy, used slut that that pussy is mine?”
Your shoe slides between my thighs and pushed them open wider, you start to step the toe of it against my groin, pushing hard and slow.
“Punish it, please.”
“You want me to punish this cunt?”
“Yes Sir.”
Your foot presses harder.
“If I make it red and sore and bruised will you remember who owns it?”
“Yes Sir.”
You smile and step hard now, I gasp.
“Tell me how to hurt you.”
“Whip me with your belt, please.”
You gently lift my face to yours, caressing sweetly as your foot steps even harder.
“Where?”
“On your pussy. On your clit. Between these thighs.”
“Will you submit to it? Will you take it? Do you want it?”
I nod.
“Show me you’re ready to accept it.”
And finally we’re there. You knew I needed to be punished and I knew you would punish me. But now I’ve become complicit. I asked for it. Prescribed it. And now I move to the center of the room on my hands and knees. I lie on my back and spread my legs wide, my hands hooking under my thighs, fully open, exposed, and vulnerable.
You walk towards me, slowly slipping your belt from its loops, wrapping it around your hand.
“No restraints. No moving. No breaking.” You say. “Take every stroke and keep your legs spread wide for it. You did this. You asked for it. You deserve this. If you shy away we will begin again, over and over, and I decide when it’s enough.”
I whimper and grip my thighs a little tighter.
“Yes Sir.”
Then you raise the belt.
And I do. I come in quietly and slip to my knees beside you, staring at the floor, barely able to whisper:
“Sir?”
“Yes.”
“I need to tell you,” I start, then I shake my head, already failing at this too.
“May I confess something to you?”
I feel you shift towards me, your gaze and judgement bearing over me, but you don’t make it easier, you remain silent, waiting for me.
“Sir, I’ve touched myself.”
“Where?”
My cheeks burn as I admit I had my hands between my thighs, my fingers on my clit. You encourage more, caressing my face as you hear how I defiled myself, how I pushed my fingers, one at a time, inside my cunt, how I fucked myself, how my thumb pinched my clit and I grinder down on my hand as hard as I could. You coax each detail from me gently, pulling out more and more embarrassing details. Finally:
“Did you cum?”
I nod and stare at the floor, “Yes Sir.”
“Hmm, I wonder, did you have permission to do this?”
You already know the answer and I am too ashamed to respond.
Instead of waiting you slap my face.
“Answer. Did you have permission to touch?”
“No Sir.”
You slap me again.
“Did you have permission to rub that clit?”
“No Sir.”
The slaps and questions come rapidly now, Permission to insert a finger? No Sir.
To insert two?
No Sir.
To insert three?
No Sir.
To pinch that clit?
No Sir.
To fuck that pussy?
No Sir.
To abuse your cunt?
No Sir.
To defile that body?
No Sir.
My face is read and my eyes are tearing, you grab my hair and yank my face up to look at you.
“Did you ask permission to use MY cunt? Were you allowed to cum without me?”
I realize my largest mistake. I’ve only admitted to touching myself, not to disrespecting what has become your property. I’m burning with dismay and humiliation at your disappointment and anger.
Your hand twists my hair tighter: “Answer.”
“No Sir.”
“What do you think should happen now? What have you done?”
I know what will happen, but now is when I have to ask for it, to really submit to it, I squirm on my knees with the struggle.
“I’ve earned your punishment Sir.”
“And how should I remind a dirty, disobedient, disrespectful, dripping, messy, used slut that that pussy is mine?”
Your shoe slides between my thighs and pushed them open wider, you start to step the toe of it against my groin, pushing hard and slow.
“Punish it, please.”
“You want me to punish this cunt?”
“Yes Sir.”
Your foot presses harder.
“If I make it red and sore and bruised will you remember who owns it?”
“Yes Sir.”
You smile and step hard now, I gasp.
“Tell me how to hurt you.”
“Whip me with your belt, please.”
You gently lift my face to yours, caressing sweetly as your foot steps even harder.
“Where?”
“On your pussy. On your clit. Between these thighs.”
“Will you submit to it? Will you take it? Do you want it?”
I nod.
“Show me you’re ready to accept it.”
And finally we’re there. You knew I needed to be punished and I knew you would punish me. But now I’ve become complicit. I asked for it. Prescribed it. And now I move to the center of the room on my hands and knees. I lie on my back and spread my legs wide, my hands hooking under my thighs, fully open, exposed, and vulnerable.
You walk towards me, slowly slipping your belt from its loops, wrapping it around your hand.
“No restraints. No moving. No breaking.” You say. “Take every stroke and keep your legs spread wide for it. You did this. You asked for it. You deserve this. If you shy away we will begin again, over and over, and I decide when it’s enough.”
I whimper and grip my thighs a little tighter.
“Yes Sir.”
Then you raise the belt.
Maris
- 22.04.2020
- 17
- 0
