It was another day in the life of Marcel Pons. He was barking orders to…
MIXED EMOTIONS
MIXED EMOTIONS
I await you in my room. The curtains are drawn, music playing and candles lit. It has been a long while since you and I have gone through this session and I feel nervous desire as I prepare. I hear you downstairs, talking quietly to the girl.
I have decided to wear my white corset pulled tight, my white velvet collar, my white stockings and suspenders and my red high heels. I have pulled my hair back away from my face into a ponytail. Sitting at the dressing table I apply my makeup and put on my earrings and stare for a while at my reflection. Excitement, fear, anticipation. Will it be different tonight? Do I want it to be different?
Walking to the bed, I lay out the whip. I pull the high back chair to the middle of the room and place my wrist cuffs and blindfold on the seat. When I am ready I walk downstairs and stand in the kitchen doorway, eyes lowered to the floor.
I sense you walking towards me. You hug me tightly then lead me by my hand to the living room. You then ask me to go and put my hands on the mantle and spread my legs wide for you. I do as I am told and lower my head and look at the floor, feeling the presence of the girl. Sensing you behind me, I feel your hand gently touching my hair, tracing down my back to the outline of my bottom. It is time you tell me, and I prepare for the session to begin.
Standing to my side, I hear the swish of the cane before I feel the sharp sting on my bottom. Gasping out loud I thank you for the stroke and you allow the burning sensation to settle before raising the cane again, bringing it down a little below the first stroke. 6 strokes later and you gently rub my bottom, your hand soft and caressing over the cotton in contrast. Closing my eyes to the pain I fight the tears and remain in position. Telling me I did well, you pull me back and turn me around. I keep my eyes lowered as you order me to my room to await you. I know what to do. Quietly I turn and head up the stairs.
When you walk into the candlelit room with the girl you look to the corner and see me standing there – hands behind my head facing the wall. The tension in the room is heavy and there is no sound except for the breathing of you and the girl.
You walk over to me and gently stroke my hair and kiss my neck. I shiver at the feel of the warmth of your mouth, nipples hardening and aching, bottom warm and stinging from the caning – you slowly blindfold me, then tilt my chin upwards. Now I must listen – and imagine.
Sitting on the bed you pull the girl over your lap and I can hear the rustle of her clothes as you wrap your arm around her, pulling her skirt up over her bottom. Without a word your hand falls on her bottom, over and over again, drawing a cry from her lips as you continue to spank her. As I imagine her tears falling, you stop and there is silence once again except for her soft cries. I can almost feel your hand as it rubs across her bottom, I hear you tell her that you love her and the thrashing is for her own good and for all our pleasure. She answers softly that she knows and accepts as your hand begins to rain down again on her bottom and thighs. Kicking and crying from the punishing blows, you wrap your leg over hers and she is now unable to do anything except lay there and accept this from you. Soon the cries turn to sobs as she lays across your lap and takes each stroke you give her. Finally you stop and and she cries quietly, her bottom burning and throbbing in pain. I sense you raise her to her feet and kiss her, before sitting her on the edge of the bed.
You leave the room and we are alone. You know I do not like this, but you do it knowing that I will be all right and that I will be rewarded in a short while. I fight the fear of being left alone with her. She may speak. I must not know who she is. Who is she? I don’t like the feeling of being abandoned, of the total silence.
Coming back in the room you tell me how proud of me you are and that I did such a good job while you were gone. I feel better knowing I have pleased you by being quiet, and my fear subsides. You come to me and turn me to face you and kiss me, I can feel the cuffs in your hands. “Almost done” you whisper and I nod, forbidden from answering.
You lead me to the chair in the middle of the room and bend me over the back, securing my wrists. I am completely at your mercy – trusting you.
I feel your hands as they caress my bottom and my thighs, down my leg, whimpering with anticipation as your fingers lightly caress my skin, pulling the panties slowly down my legs. I can sense the girls eyes on me, staring. It arouses me – I feel ashamed. I hear you pick up the whip and you tell me to be a good girl and count for you.
I cry out and count each stroke and thank you until I have counted out 10 strokes. I am again crying in pain.
Once again you leave the room. I fight the fear of being alone again with the girl, and I call out for you. I don’t like this Sir and you know that I learn slowly. I cry for you to come back and you do. You gently rub my back without a word. Just enough for me to know that I am not totally alone. Then you tell me to be brave, but I have misbehaved by speaking and I should know what punishment lies ahead. I know. And you leave again.
I fight the urge to struggle, I want to see the girl. It’s unfair that she can see me, but it excites and frightens me that she can see my humiliation and pain and fear. I finally give in and stay still hoping that this time my punishment will change. But then you are there again, telling me I’m being brave but I must accept my punishment. It is part of the rules. And then you move away again from me. Without warning the whip is brought down and the room is filled with the sound of my screams. The whip continues to fall and I struggle each time to count the stroke and to thank you for them. Finally after the 12th stroke the room falls silent except for my crying and pleading for it all to end. You tell me we are almost finished.
You come around and unfasten my wrists and lead me to the corner of the room. You position me facing the corner, hands on head. I know what comes next…..
You move to the girl sat on the edge of the bed. I can sense you smiling down at her. I hear her gently moan as you undress. You groan with pleasure at the feeling of her while your eyes are fixed on my back, my stinging red buttocks. I want to feel her skin and yours. May be one day …
I fight back tears of frustration and desire as I hear you together. I can taste you. I wanted that but I feel strangely satisfied – breathing heavily, perspiration running between my breasts. She has made you happy. Finally there is silence.
****
The girl has gone.
I listen to you breathe and feel your warmth as you gently stroke my back and hair. When my breathing has calmed, you begin to kiss my lips gently, down my neck…across my breasts and nipples…down my stomach… now it is my turn for pleasure.
This story was written by SkyPixie for publication at the The Private UK Spanking Club www.puksc.co.uk