Nandita To Nandini
- 4 years ago
- 285
- 0
Kinky And Caned Part 1 free porn video
It was over a month since my last visit to her dungeon. The delicious pain my Mistress had inflicted upon my naked body on that occasion was now a distant memory. I knew I needed to see her again, to hear her stern voice and feel the lash of her riding crop across my bare buttocks. I picked up my phone and, with nervous, excited fingers, began typing;
"Hello Mistress. I've been naughty again and need to be punished. Can I come and see you?"
I put down his phone and waited. It took ten excruciatingly long minutes before my Mistress finally answered. I picked up his phone again and stared intently at the screen. Her reply left me crestfallen:
"I'm fully booked for the next three weeks so you will just have to wait your turn."
Three weeks was too long to wait. I needed to see her sooner than that. An idea came to me, a dangerously subversive idea that could get me into a lot of trouble. Almost with thinking, I typed out my provocative response:
"I had a fantasy about you last night. I dreamed that you were meek and submissive and that I was your Master. I made you beg for mercy."
This time the reply was almost instantaneous:
"YOU DID WHAT! HOW DARE YOU!!!"
My nervous fingers tapped out a grovelling apology:
"I'm sorry Mistress, I couldn't help myself. I know it was wrong and that I need to be punished for my bad thoughts."
It wasn't a good idea to provoke my Mistress but she had left me with no alternative. The terse instructions she fired back a few minutes later left me breathless with excitement:
"You require immediate corrective therapy to remedy your delusional fantasies. Meet me at 10pm in Club Spank. Look for the address on the Internet. Dress smartly in dark clothes. Tell the doormen you are one of my submissives otherwise they won't let you in. I am extremely angry with you for having such bad thoughts so you can expect me to be very severe. Think on that and don't be late."
My plan had worked! I had got what he wanted, to jump the queue and see my Mistress tonight. My excitement was tempered with nervous trepidation. There would be a heavy price to pay for my rash behaviour. I tapped out an acknowledgement and pressed the send button. It was done now, there was no turning back:
"Thank you for seeing me in at such short notice Mistress. I hope I didn't spoil your plans for the evening. I promise to arrive on time. Your obedient and willing slave - Jake."
There was no reply. Switching to my Internet browser, I searched for Club Spank. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for. The night club's webpage described how it was a member's only venue used as a meeting place by the local fetish community. I studied the lurid photographs taken at previous events and began to wonder what I had let myself in for.
The dull thudding of dance music grew increasingly louder as I descended the narrow staircase leading to the basement. A thunderous cacophony of noise assaulted my ears when I entered the subterranean lair. It took a few moments to orientate my senses and accustom myself to the pulsating lights and elemental fury of the music. The dancers gyrating wildly to the thumping hypnotic rhythm were dressed in an extraordinary collection of fetishware. Closer inspection revealed that the debauched revellers comprised two distinct groups. The first consisted of men and women wearing intimidating leather garments, ornamented with chains, studs and elaborate costume jewellery. This was in contrast to the second group, whose adherents wore leather collars, chastity belts, bondage harnesses and various other restraining devices. The demeaning apparel was clearly indicative of their status as sexual submissives. I imagined they had been coerced into this display of ritual public humiliation by their leather clad Masters and Mistresses. The heaving, semi-naked throng of people was an astonishing sight. But then this was a private fetish club and its members were not constrained by orthodox social conventions. I still felt chastened by the experience of trying to gain entry to Club Spank. It had been humiliating, explaining to a group of smirking doormen that I was one of Mistress Whiplash’s submissives. After eventually admitting me, one of them smugly warned, ‘you’re going to be sorry!’
I moved slowly through the crowd of semi-naked dancers to the back of the darkened room, making my way towards a woman slithering acrobatically around a stainless-steel pole on an elevated podium. The pole dancer was naked except for an eye mask and a large pink feather boa, which she used to conceal her nudity as she glided sinuously around the shiny steel pole. My heart skipped a beat when, tearing my gaze away from the pole dancer, I caught sight of Mistress Whiplash standing by the bar. She was talking to another woman, whose arm was d****d casually over my Mistresses’ shoulder. Her intimate gesture implied she wasn’t a submissive - none of us would dare take such a liberty. Mistress Whiplash was wearing her favourite thigh length leather boots, long black gloves and a one piece, shiny PVC outfit that left her breasts completely exposed. The figure hugging costume was attached to a collar by three straps, linked together by small metal chains that d****d across her pert, beautifully rounded tits. Her nipples stood proud, begging to be sucked. It would however take a brave man or woman to attempt that unless given explicit permission to do so. A steel plate, engraved with the word "MISTRESS", was attached to a collar she wore around her neck. I turned my attention to the woman talking to Mistress Whiplash. She was dressed in a tight-fitting leather dress, black stockings and a pair of incredibly high stiletto heeled shoes. Both women wore ornate eye masks, which completed their alluring yet slightly menacing appearance. Mistress Whiplash stared at me impassively when she became aware of my presence. Her expression was stern and unyielding. It filled me with foreboding as I began to speculate what the consequences of my inappropriate fantasy might be.
‘So, you decided to turn up?’ she asked coolly, studying me with a look of disdain.
‘Yes, Mistress,’ I replied apprehensively.
‘Are you ready to be punished for what you did?’ Mistress Whiplash enquired, not bothering with the usual social formalities such as greetings or introducing me to her companion.
‘Yes, Mistress,’ I answered meekly.
‘Make yourself useful then. Go to the bar and buy me a gin and tonic. Make it a double. Get a mojito for my friend.’
As I walked away she added, ‘and don’t buy a drink for yourself, you don’t deserve one.’
After returning with the drinks I sensed people looking at me enviously, probably wondering what I was doing with two such dangerously intoxicating women. I was too filled with nervous anticipation to feel flattered by their attention. Mistress Whiplash and her friend were discussing various bondage techniques and other matters related to their chosen vocation. I wasn’t invited to join in and knew it would be better if I simply kept quiet. Eventually I became the subject of the conversation.
‘What did he do wrong?’ Mistress Whiplash’s companion asked curiously.
‘He had a fantasy about me.’
‘What was so bad about that!’ her friend laughed. ‘I fantasise about you all the time and I’m sure lots of other people do to.’
‘He dreamt I was a submissive and he was my Master.’
‘Ah! Now I can see why you are so angry with him.’
‘You have no idea how angry I am.’
He’s in a lot of trouble, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘What are you going to do him?’
‘I’ve booked one of the playrooms. I’m going to take him there and give him a good seeing to. He won’t have any more fantasies about me after I’ve finished with him.’
‘Can I come and watch?’
‘You can help if you want.’
‘Oh, yes please!’ Mistress Whiplash’s companion squealed delightedly.
The conversation drifted onto other subjects. I maintained my silence, pondering the wisdom of telling my Mistress about my dream. Too late now, the die was cast and I must accept whatever punishment she chose to inflict upon me for having such disrespectful thoughts. As the appointed hour neared, Mistress Whiplash took a small ticket stub that had been tucked inside her figure hugging outfit and passed it to me.
‘Go to the cloakroom, get my bag and bring it back here,’ she commanded.
I took the ticket from Mistress Whiplash, walked upstairs to the cloakroom and collected her bag. It felt ominously heavy when I hefted it in my hand. Suddenly filled with trepidation about my forthcoming ordeal, I walked downstairs again and threaded my way through the raucous crowd to find my Mistress and her companion.
‘Follow us,’ she instructed when I returned clutching her bag. The two women led me towards a small, non-descript door at the far end of the cavernous basement. The loud music immediately faded to a dull booming as we passed through the door and entered a dimly lit corridor. The relative silence was broken only by the occasional sound of leather on flesh followed by muffled grunts of pain. A door stood slightly ajar at the end of the corridor. Mistress Whiplash pushed the door open and switched on the lights, revealing a small room filled with various restraining devices and a rack containing a selection of riding crops and whips. A large diagonal cross was mounted to the wall in the corner. The dim red lighting and various items of bondage equipment gave the room a vaguely sinister appearance.
‘Put the bag down and strip naked,’ my Mistress commanded.
The two women watched as I removed my clothes and placed them on an empty chair. I waited nervously for my punishment to commence after I had finished undressing.
‘Put the cuffs on his ankles and wrists,’ my Mistress instructed her companion.
The other woman opened Mistress Whiplash’s bag and took out four short, broad leather straps with steel buckles attached to them. She walked over to me, grasped hold of my left wrist and fastened one of the straps around it, buckling it up tightly. Whilst her assistant attached the straps to my wrists and ankles, Mistress Whiplash removed an enormous strap-on dildo from her bag, stepped inside the harness and pulled it up over her legs until it was fixed in position. She adjusted the straps for comfort and for the first time that evening gave me a small smile.
‘I thought I would try out my new cock on you John, what do you think?’
‘It looks very big,’ I gulped, gazing as the large flesh coloured rubber phallus hanging heavily between her legs.
‘I chose it especially for you, I know you like being fucked but I didn’t want you to enjoy the experience too much this time. You must endure a little bit of pain to enhance your pleasure.’
It was true that I enjoyed being fucked by my Mistress but her new strap-on cock was far larger than any I had experienced before. I nervously imagined what it would feel like to have it thrust deep inside me.
Mistress Whiplash inspected the selection of riding crops and whips hanging from the rack on the wall. She selected a riding crop and a short leather flogger. ‘Come over here,’ she instructed.
Conscious of my naked vulnerability, I stood before my Mistress. In a surprisingly intimate gesture, she rested her arms over my shoulders and d****d the leather flogger across my back. Staring intently into my eyes, she began lecturing me about my unforgivable breach of etiquette.
‘I don’t mind if you have fantasies about me, in fact I would be very disappointed if you didn’t, but maybe you shouldn’t tell me about them in future. Did you really think I wanted to hear you dreamt I was your submissive?
‘No Mistress,’ I answered meekly.
‘I am your Mistress and you are my submissive and that is the total extent of our relationship. I can do with you as I please and make you submit to any punishment I think you deserve. Do you understand?
‘Yes Mistress.’
‘If you satisfy me and comply with my demands you may occasionally be rewarded. Tonight however, because of your appalling misjudgement in telling me your ludicrous fantasy, I am going to be very severe with you. Are you ready to be punished Jake?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’
‘Get on your knees then.’
I dropped to my knees and waited expectantly.
‘Suck my cock,’ my Mistress demanded in a deep husky voice.
Without hesitation, I took hold of her huge rubber phallus in my left hand, raised it to my mouth and began to suck and lick its bulbous tip.
‘Take it deeper,’ my Mistress commanded.
I opened my mouth as wide as it would go and slowly slid my lips down the length of her enormous phallus. I fought the gag reflex and swallowed my Mistresses’ rubber cock, knowing I risked even greater punishment if I refused her bizarre demands.
‘I forgot to bring lubricant with me so I suggest you make my cock nice and wet if you don’t want it to hurt too much,’ Mistress Whiplash added in an amused voice as I sucked her synthetic phallus. My mind boggled at this snippet of information, I couldn’t imagine how I could take such a large object without lubrication.
To be continued...
"Hello Mistress. I've been naughty again and need to be punished. Can I come and see you?"
I put down his phone and waited. It took ten excruciatingly long minutes before my Mistress finally answered. I picked up his phone again and stared intently at the screen. Her reply left me crestfallen:
"I'm fully booked for the next three weeks so you will just have to wait your turn."
Three weeks was too long to wait. I needed to see her sooner than that. An idea came to me, a dangerously subversive idea that could get me into a lot of trouble. Almost with thinking, I typed out my provocative response:
"I had a fantasy about you last night. I dreamed that you were meek and submissive and that I was your Master. I made you beg for mercy."
This time the reply was almost instantaneous:
"YOU DID WHAT! HOW DARE YOU!!!"
My nervous fingers tapped out a grovelling apology:
"I'm sorry Mistress, I couldn't help myself. I know it was wrong and that I need to be punished for my bad thoughts."
It wasn't a good idea to provoke my Mistress but she had left me with no alternative. The terse instructions she fired back a few minutes later left me breathless with excitement:
"You require immediate corrective therapy to remedy your delusional fantasies. Meet me at 10pm in Club Spank. Look for the address on the Internet. Dress smartly in dark clothes. Tell the doormen you are one of my submissives otherwise they won't let you in. I am extremely angry with you for having such bad thoughts so you can expect me to be very severe. Think on that and don't be late."
My plan had worked! I had got what he wanted, to jump the queue and see my Mistress tonight. My excitement was tempered with nervous trepidation. There would be a heavy price to pay for my rash behaviour. I tapped out an acknowledgement and pressed the send button. It was done now, there was no turning back:
"Thank you for seeing me in at such short notice Mistress. I hope I didn't spoil your plans for the evening. I promise to arrive on time. Your obedient and willing slave - Jake."
There was no reply. Switching to my Internet browser, I searched for Club Spank. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for. The night club's webpage described how it was a member's only venue used as a meeting place by the local fetish community. I studied the lurid photographs taken at previous events and began to wonder what I had let myself in for.
The dull thudding of dance music grew increasingly louder as I descended the narrow staircase leading to the basement. A thunderous cacophony of noise assaulted my ears when I entered the subterranean lair. It took a few moments to orientate my senses and accustom myself to the pulsating lights and elemental fury of the music. The dancers gyrating wildly to the thumping hypnotic rhythm were dressed in an extraordinary collection of fetishware. Closer inspection revealed that the debauched revellers comprised two distinct groups. The first consisted of men and women wearing intimidating leather garments, ornamented with chains, studs and elaborate costume jewellery. This was in contrast to the second group, whose adherents wore leather collars, chastity belts, bondage harnesses and various other restraining devices. The demeaning apparel was clearly indicative of their status as sexual submissives. I imagined they had been coerced into this display of ritual public humiliation by their leather clad Masters and Mistresses. The heaving, semi-naked throng of people was an astonishing sight. But then this was a private fetish club and its members were not constrained by orthodox social conventions. I still felt chastened by the experience of trying to gain entry to Club Spank. It had been humiliating, explaining to a group of smirking doormen that I was one of Mistress Whiplash’s submissives. After eventually admitting me, one of them smugly warned, ‘you’re going to be sorry!’
I moved slowly through the crowd of semi-naked dancers to the back of the darkened room, making my way towards a woman slithering acrobatically around a stainless-steel pole on an elevated podium. The pole dancer was naked except for an eye mask and a large pink feather boa, which she used to conceal her nudity as she glided sinuously around the shiny steel pole. My heart skipped a beat when, tearing my gaze away from the pole dancer, I caught sight of Mistress Whiplash standing by the bar. She was talking to another woman, whose arm was d****d casually over my Mistresses’ shoulder. Her intimate gesture implied she wasn’t a submissive - none of us would dare take such a liberty. Mistress Whiplash was wearing her favourite thigh length leather boots, long black gloves and a one piece, shiny PVC outfit that left her breasts completely exposed. The figure hugging costume was attached to a collar by three straps, linked together by small metal chains that d****d across her pert, beautifully rounded tits. Her nipples stood proud, begging to be sucked. It would however take a brave man or woman to attempt that unless given explicit permission to do so. A steel plate, engraved with the word "MISTRESS", was attached to a collar she wore around her neck. I turned my attention to the woman talking to Mistress Whiplash. She was dressed in a tight-fitting leather dress, black stockings and a pair of incredibly high stiletto heeled shoes. Both women wore ornate eye masks, which completed their alluring yet slightly menacing appearance. Mistress Whiplash stared at me impassively when she became aware of my presence. Her expression was stern and unyielding. It filled me with foreboding as I began to speculate what the consequences of my inappropriate fantasy might be.
‘So, you decided to turn up?’ she asked coolly, studying me with a look of disdain.
‘Yes, Mistress,’ I replied apprehensively.
‘Are you ready to be punished for what you did?’ Mistress Whiplash enquired, not bothering with the usual social formalities such as greetings or introducing me to her companion.
‘Yes, Mistress,’ I answered meekly.
‘Make yourself useful then. Go to the bar and buy me a gin and tonic. Make it a double. Get a mojito for my friend.’
As I walked away she added, ‘and don’t buy a drink for yourself, you don’t deserve one.’
After returning with the drinks I sensed people looking at me enviously, probably wondering what I was doing with two such dangerously intoxicating women. I was too filled with nervous anticipation to feel flattered by their attention. Mistress Whiplash and her friend were discussing various bondage techniques and other matters related to their chosen vocation. I wasn’t invited to join in and knew it would be better if I simply kept quiet. Eventually I became the subject of the conversation.
‘What did he do wrong?’ Mistress Whiplash’s companion asked curiously.
‘He had a fantasy about me.’
‘What was so bad about that!’ her friend laughed. ‘I fantasise about you all the time and I’m sure lots of other people do to.’
‘He dreamt I was a submissive and he was my Master.’
‘Ah! Now I can see why you are so angry with him.’
‘You have no idea how angry I am.’
He’s in a lot of trouble, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘What are you going to do him?’
‘I’ve booked one of the playrooms. I’m going to take him there and give him a good seeing to. He won’t have any more fantasies about me after I’ve finished with him.’
‘Can I come and watch?’
‘You can help if you want.’
‘Oh, yes please!’ Mistress Whiplash’s companion squealed delightedly.
The conversation drifted onto other subjects. I maintained my silence, pondering the wisdom of telling my Mistress about my dream. Too late now, the die was cast and I must accept whatever punishment she chose to inflict upon me for having such disrespectful thoughts. As the appointed hour neared, Mistress Whiplash took a small ticket stub that had been tucked inside her figure hugging outfit and passed it to me.
‘Go to the cloakroom, get my bag and bring it back here,’ she commanded.
I took the ticket from Mistress Whiplash, walked upstairs to the cloakroom and collected her bag. It felt ominously heavy when I hefted it in my hand. Suddenly filled with trepidation about my forthcoming ordeal, I walked downstairs again and threaded my way through the raucous crowd to find my Mistress and her companion.
‘Follow us,’ she instructed when I returned clutching her bag. The two women led me towards a small, non-descript door at the far end of the cavernous basement. The loud music immediately faded to a dull booming as we passed through the door and entered a dimly lit corridor. The relative silence was broken only by the occasional sound of leather on flesh followed by muffled grunts of pain. A door stood slightly ajar at the end of the corridor. Mistress Whiplash pushed the door open and switched on the lights, revealing a small room filled with various restraining devices and a rack containing a selection of riding crops and whips. A large diagonal cross was mounted to the wall in the corner. The dim red lighting and various items of bondage equipment gave the room a vaguely sinister appearance.
‘Put the bag down and strip naked,’ my Mistress commanded.
The two women watched as I removed my clothes and placed them on an empty chair. I waited nervously for my punishment to commence after I had finished undressing.
‘Put the cuffs on his ankles and wrists,’ my Mistress instructed her companion.
The other woman opened Mistress Whiplash’s bag and took out four short, broad leather straps with steel buckles attached to them. She walked over to me, grasped hold of my left wrist and fastened one of the straps around it, buckling it up tightly. Whilst her assistant attached the straps to my wrists and ankles, Mistress Whiplash removed an enormous strap-on dildo from her bag, stepped inside the harness and pulled it up over her legs until it was fixed in position. She adjusted the straps for comfort and for the first time that evening gave me a small smile.
‘I thought I would try out my new cock on you John, what do you think?’
‘It looks very big,’ I gulped, gazing as the large flesh coloured rubber phallus hanging heavily between her legs.
‘I chose it especially for you, I know you like being fucked but I didn’t want you to enjoy the experience too much this time. You must endure a little bit of pain to enhance your pleasure.’
It was true that I enjoyed being fucked by my Mistress but her new strap-on cock was far larger than any I had experienced before. I nervously imagined what it would feel like to have it thrust deep inside me.
Mistress Whiplash inspected the selection of riding crops and whips hanging from the rack on the wall. She selected a riding crop and a short leather flogger. ‘Come over here,’ she instructed.
Conscious of my naked vulnerability, I stood before my Mistress. In a surprisingly intimate gesture, she rested her arms over my shoulders and d****d the leather flogger across my back. Staring intently into my eyes, she began lecturing me about my unforgivable breach of etiquette.
‘I don’t mind if you have fantasies about me, in fact I would be very disappointed if you didn’t, but maybe you shouldn’t tell me about them in future. Did you really think I wanted to hear you dreamt I was your submissive?
‘No Mistress,’ I answered meekly.
‘I am your Mistress and you are my submissive and that is the total extent of our relationship. I can do with you as I please and make you submit to any punishment I think you deserve. Do you understand?
‘Yes Mistress.’
‘If you satisfy me and comply with my demands you may occasionally be rewarded. Tonight however, because of your appalling misjudgement in telling me your ludicrous fantasy, I am going to be very severe with you. Are you ready to be punished Jake?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’
‘Get on your knees then.’
I dropped to my knees and waited expectantly.
‘Suck my cock,’ my Mistress demanded in a deep husky voice.
Without hesitation, I took hold of her huge rubber phallus in my left hand, raised it to my mouth and began to suck and lick its bulbous tip.
‘Take it deeper,’ my Mistress commanded.
I opened my mouth as wide as it would go and slowly slid my lips down the length of her enormous phallus. I fought the gag reflex and swallowed my Mistresses’ rubber cock, knowing I risked even greater punishment if I refused her bizarre demands.
‘I forgot to bring lubricant with me so I suggest you make my cock nice and wet if you don’t want it to hurt too much,’ Mistress Whiplash added in an amused voice as I sucked her synthetic phallus. My mind boggled at this snippet of information, I couldn’t imagine how I could take such a large object without lubrication.
To be continued...
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