Tales 12

Tales 11

Tales Vol.9

Deep Waters

Tales NHSP 8

Challenge of Love

Tales Vol. 1

Coming of Age

In The Dark II

Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM

The Society of the Golden Rose

The Silver Locke

Michael Alexander Stories

Choose Your Own Destiny - The Club


13d – Taking Stock

“I think I’d like you in the stocks for right now.”  You tell Breanne, seeing the glint in her eyes.  With a small nod she moves toward the heavy wooden apparatus and stands before it.  Your fingers glide over the smooth wood.  It was obviously crafted by a master, the holes for neck and wrists narrow but lined with padded leather.  Even the edges of the frame have been sanded and oiled smooth, making the device enjoyable just to touch.  Even better, you notice that the height is adjustable with just a few quick turns of a clamp screw.  The whole thing is mounted to a wooden platform where two iron rings are bolted out to the sides, the better to secure spread legs and ankles.  It’s a masterwork.

Bre turns and looks at you, hands still behind her head causing her clothespin clamped breasts to jut out deliciously.  The top of her dress is still bunched up around her waist, the hem falling down just past her bottom.  Stepping over to her, your hands touch the sides of her breasts and gently move down, caressing her skin.  She sucks in a breath as your fingers clutch the dress and begin working it down over her hips.  To your delight it moves easily and falls to the floor, sliding down her legs to pool at her feet.  The g-string she is wearing is all the protection that remains and you turn her around and go to your knees, tugging the small covering away from her pussy.

As a good slave, she allows it to happen, opening her thighs as you expose her sex.  It is shaven clean, pink folds of moist skin surround a dark hole and you spy her clitoris peeking out from under its hood.  With a quick peck you tease it slightly, eliciting a moan from the auburn-haired beauty and then you rise, pulling her forward toward the stocks.

It is the work of seconds to open the device and Breanne dutifully bends over, placing her neck and wrists in the appropriate holes.  It is an act of submission, of acceptance, of knowing that you are about to torment her, tease her, use her body, and there is nothing she can do to stop it.  At the Club there are no safe words, no escapes, no denials.  Only the attendant can stop your actions.

For a moment you admire the clothespins dangling from her nipples and decide not to remove them just yet.  The amazing assortment of clamps on the table to your right will get their opportunity to bite unto her delicate nubs soon enough!  As you run one hand up and down Breanne’s bottom and thigh, you reach over to the table and extract a pencil thin rod, almost a foot long, made of some reed.  Knowing Bre’s vision is limited by the constraints of the stocks, you begin lightly tapping it against the folds of her sex.  Her hips roll as her buttocks tighten and you set the edge of the reed against her petals and wriggle it back and forth, parting them gently, stroking along the delicate edges of each pink lip.

She gasps and rises up on her toes but it does nothing to pull her away from the narrow reed creasing her sex.  It moves against her, tiny sensations that distract her, but are focused, the concentration on only one tiny part of her body bringing every facet of her attention on what you are doing.  Knowing that, you lift the reed from her slit and flick the slim little shaft against each lip of her pussy, stingingly fast.  The quick series of little vicious swats raises several angry red lines across her tender skin.  She cries out, shuddering as you hit her, the reed bringing little lines of cold fire along her sex.  Her hips roll as she shudders beneath the burning onslaught of taps, and her body begins to move involuntarily, trying to change the impact points of your strokes.  Without any warning or pity you kick her legs apart.  Her breasts heave from her breathing as you give her the relief her body is begging for.  Kneeling down at her ankle you quickly clip the metal D link of her leather leg cuff to the iron ring embedded in the wooden platform of the stocks.  Her other leg follows suit and she whimpers, realizing that she is now totally immobilized, unable move in any appreciable way.

You rub the textured shaft of the reed against her welts as they rise, stroking them steadily as her sex burns with desire, flame, heat, and pain.  You flick the reed again, crossing both petals, the end slapping crisply against the swelling rose colored lips.  Bre lets out a tiny scream, shuddering, her body tightening like a live wire, her pussy throbbing from the intensity of the hurt.  Tears bloom in her eyes but she finds herself creaming, wetness trickling from her sex.  She gasps and you grin, stroking the tip of the reed around her clit slowly, lifting the nub and pressing back and forth with the rod.  Her thighs tremble as you can see her arousal as her clit swells, escaping the small hood at the top of her slit.

A quick flick of the wrist drags the reed away from her clit and brings it striking against the inside of the thigh.  A red line immediately appears and you create several others, bouncing the thin stick between her legs as if you were whisking eggs.  In seconds her skin, from crotch to knee is criss-crossed with little thin red welts and Breanne is shaking in the stocks, her knees bending.

“Good girl, that’s it.  Show me what you can really do when you’re punished.”  You say.  Your fingers grasp hold of one of her petals, pulling the swollen thick lip away as you bring the small reed forward.  The end disappears into her pussy and you roll the reed around the sensitive opening.

Breanne moans, her hips once more thrusting involuntarily as you torment her.  Heat radiates from her thighs and pussy, pulling hard against the leather cuffs binding her ankles.  The stock rocks slightly as her arms press against the wooden frame.  She groans, slumping in her bonds as you work the rod in deeper, twisting it slightly.  She gasps, once more rising on tiptoes as you swirl the reed within her, then extract it.  A second dipping causes her to tighten up and you grin as you tug the rod free and flick the wet shaft across the seam of her petals, slapping it against the tender inner pink flesh of her pussy.  Before she can really cry out you slip the end back into her, just an inch, stirring her to greater heights.

Breanne rocks in exasperation, her body on fire from the burning strokes and the teasing touch.  There is a flicker of pain from her pussy, her thighs, but it merges with the little movements inside, building her into a roaring need of lust.  She bites her lip to keep from screaming, aching for you to ram the reed deeper, to whip her with it, to fuck her hard, anything.  She lets out a longing wail as you slide it out, only to slip it back in another teasing inch.  Her body convulses once and she groans giving you the signal to remove it once again.  Her cry of longing now is so much stronger than before her bottom wiggles and shakes. 

You tilt the reed again and bring it in an underhand swing, targeting the little bud of her clit.  The strokes are deliberate, careful, and each one lifts the swollen nub, sending bursts of pain filled energy into her body.  Her eyes open in astonishment as the first strike on her clit arouses her to new heights.  She screams out loud, thrusting her hips obscenely back and forth as her sex bristles with ache and need.

Chuckling, you press the edge against her slit and lean close to her.  “Butt plug before, or after your spanking, Breanne?”  You ask, tapping the reed lightly against the seam of her flower.

It takes a moment for her to answer.  She tugs against the restraints but finally blinks, her focus turning away from her burning lusting body to your question.

“Before, Sir.  That way it rams into me during the spanking.”  She says softly, evidently a glutton for punishment.  You grin, dropping the cane into the “used toy bucket” on the table, ignoring the wet and glistening length.

“Good girl” you say.  “I was hoping you’d want it before the spanking.  I love watching the way you tighten around it with each stroke.”  You look at the table, examining the available plugs.  Each of the intrusive sex toys are individual wrapped in clear plastic, each pre-loaded with batteries if necessary.  For guests of the Club, the cost for the toy is added into the price and the girl it is used on gets to keep the toy if she wants.  You have no doubt that Breanne’s personal collection is wide and vast, so you select a bottom plug with a wide base, thick width, and a tapered point.  With no hesitation, and to Breanne’s surprise, you ram it deeply into her sex first, pumping it in and out several times to lubricate the thick plug.  From Bre’s squeals, you know that the thickness is perfect, but its length makes for poor pussy plunging. 

“Do you want to see it first?” You ask as you rub the plug up and down her sex..  Breanne shakes her head and you can see the muscles of her butt tightening and then relaxing in expectation.  “Mmmm…look how wet your pussy is!”  You exclaim, pressing the plug against her clit.  She moans, obviously in need and is getting frustrated.

“Please sir!  Just ram it in me!”  She demands, her body trembling.  With a chuckle you move the tip to the small button of her ass, moving your wrist and twisting the plug.  Its tapered point penetrates, spreading her cheeks as you work it in.  Breanne lets out a groan as she feels it screwing into her.

“You are such a good little slut, do you know that Breanne?”  You ask as you push another inch deeper into her ass, working it against the tightness.  She cries out as her bottom burns as you force the shaft deeper into her chute.  You feel her open around the girth of the plug, pushing it in slowly as it stretches her bottom.  When you feel it pass the widest point, snuggly penetrating, you shove it deeply, ramming it the rest of the way as her hips shudder under your hand.  You twist the plug as her ass clenches around the wide base helplessly.

“You can scream if you want.” You tell her.  “They’ve all gotten used to the sounds down here.” 

She grits her teeth, letting out a keening wail as you twist the plug around until the wide base is pressed tightly against her cheeks.  A heavy leather covered paddle sits on the table and you pick it up, running it experimentally over her exposed buttocks.  She knows what is coming and can’t help trembling, tugging against her bonds.  Her body dances in front of you like a drop of water sizzling on a hot plate and you reach under her body, grabbing hold of the clothespin on her left breast.  Before she even registers the touch you tug it off her breast, bringing a sharp cry from her lips.

Your fingers trap her crushed nipple and tug at it as you lift the paddle high in the air.  You squeeze tightly, sending shooting pains up through her tit just as the leather paddle lands squarely across her ass.  Her scream is music to your ears and you know from the shuddering bounce of her body that the spank didn’t end at her bottom, but ricocheted down the anal plug into her very depths.

The second stroke lands almost immediately after the first, the third following quickly, with each flat smack sending a white shock of searing heat through her body, the thick dildo lurching deeper into her ass.  Her hips shudder as she clenches around the thick rubber shaft.  Her eyes roll into the back of her head as her bottom explodes in sexual agony, the plug ramming upward into her body, hitting her inside.  Her ass is already red, still criss-crossed with thin welts.  She thrashes wildly as you raise your arm again, aiming just a fraction lower.  The stroke catches the plug perfectly, but curves lower, somehow striking the spread and swollen petals of her flower.

With slow regular swings you bring the paddle crashing down upon her ass, watching it clench desperately around the thick plug as her hips roll.  Each stroke pushes her back, bending her so her sex is even more exposed and the flat leather coated tool begins to slap wetly against her sex, the raised welted lines burning agonizingly against the slick leather.  She cries out again and you release her left nipple and move your hand to the other breast, pulling the wooden clothespin off the delicate nub.  Breanne yelps as the clamp falls on the floor and you grab hold of her teat, pinching and pulling as the paddle continues a steady beat against her rear.

Her hips thrust backward, almost meeting your strokes as her body tingles and the lines between pain and pleasure blur into meaningless haze.  You release her breast and grab hold of the plug, twisting the base back and forth like a washing machine, working it in and out.  You tug it partially free of her ass and then lift the paddle again, smashing it back deeply into her body with a painful smack that makes her cry out, arching her back and standing on tip toe.

You set the paddle back down and extract the small thin reed from the bucket on the table, gazing down at the swollen petals of her sex.  With one hand you tug and twist at the dildo in her ass while you begin slapping the narrow little stick across the folds of her sex, red lines searing into her skin.  You aim right for her clit, sending the tip of the reed sharply against the swollen nub and she screams, her body shaking.

“Please!  Please!  I need to come!”  She cried out, her thighs rippling as you smack her clitoris.  You chuckle and give her a sharp stroke of the reed, causing her to rise up in agony.

“Orgasm now and you will be in so much trouble.” You say softly.  “Hold it in, little slut.”

She lets out a wailing moan as you stroke her clit with the pencil thin rod, lifting the hood, exposing it to the cool air.  It is too much and she shakes with pressure, the pain and pleasure overloading her senses, her will power.  With a groan of desperation she pushes back against the stick and explodes, wet squirts of juice bursting from her seams and wetting her thighs.  You drop the reed and push two fingers into her pussy, curling it forward to trap her hips in a desperate arch.  You bend down, picking up the clothespin as she thrusts backward against your hand, and you find her delicate clit, closing the wooden clamp upon the exposed nub.  She screams again and grinds even harder, juices pouring down your wrist.

Finally she begins to relax, the shattering waves of orgasm receding like the tide, causing her to slump in her bonds.  You run one hand up and down her back, touching her skin, caressing her as she finishes the last few backward thrusts against your hand.  You extract your wet and sticky fingers, only to find the attendant standing next to you, holding out a towel.  You take it gratefully and wipe the moisture from your hand and wrist, snapping it playfully against her bottom.

You pick up the thin reed one more time and move to her breasts, lifting it up and tapping it softly against her nipples, watching her jump slightly at the touch.

“You were naughty.”  You mutter in her ear, emphasizing each word with a tiny flick of the rod against her breasts.  She lets out a tiny whimper.

“I’m sorry sir.  It was just too much for me to deal with.”  She says, her voice sounding tired.

You shake your head and bring the little reed upward quickly with fast stinging strokes, leaving tiny red lines criss-crossing her breasts.  She squirms, trembling as her thick melons are punished, heat flaring across the breadth of her chest.  You reach under to cup her tit, feeling the warmth of your strokes and you squeeze her gently.

“You’ve been sauced pretty well, haven’t you?”  You ask gently, thumbing her nipple and eliciting another moan.

“Yes, sir.”  She says, her body betraying the pain and heat she feels from her breasts.  “I’m sorry I came.”

A soft laugh escapes your throat and you pat her bottom gently, causing her to wince.

“I’m going to screw you silly in a moment, so it won’t really matter.  The question is do I bend you backward over a barrel, or do I lay you across the padded vault?” 

“I don’t deserve to get pleasured, sir.  You should punish me.”  Her voice is soft, almost pleading.

“What do you think I just did to you?”  You ask, clearly amazed at her resilience.  “I have punished you.”

She shakes her head, the long auburn tresses flowing down from her head.  “I shouldn’t have come.  I’m sorry sir.  You should punish me for it.”

“And what should I do to you?  What would be sufficient punishment?”  The question springs to your lips.

She tilts her head, trying to look up at you.  “Anything you want sir.  Whip me, beat me, tie me up, and cover me in hot wax…anything.”  She replies.

You hesitate.  Your own cock is pulsing in need and you want to screw her.  Does she truly deserve more punishment?

As much as you think Breanne is right about punishing “unauthorized orgasms”, your own cock needs some attention.  Take her to the barrel and throw her backwards over it.  Then you can plunge yourself into her hot depths and release some of YOUR pent up tensions. (16a)

You decide that the Vault is a decent middle of the road option.  You can lay her over it, face down, and give her another spanking which she so richly deserves.  Then she already is in the position for a decent fucking. (16b)

Hell yes she deserves more punishment!  She can’t be allowed to orgasm without permission!  Release her from the stocks and take her over to the rack, oil her down, and cook her till she’s red with candle wax! (16c)