I was being punished for talking politics at a Christmas
party and for expounding my right wing views.
Right then I was wishing that I
had talked about the weather or shopping or something. My penis had been caned
by the rod end of the riding crop and I was staring down at six short red lines across the tight skin on my prick. My wife smirked as I
shifted my weight from one leg to the other trying to maintain my balance with
my hips as high as I could get them and my
perineum pressed to the chairback.
Lift your prick out the way. I want to reach your balls.
I said that I could not hold my balance if I took my hands
off the chair back as I was already on my tip toes. My wife laughed and came to
stand close by my side. I felt her thigh brush mine and my penis stiffened a bit
more as her left hand reached under my cock to squeeze my balls hard. She
lifted them free as I pushed upwards to release them.
Step back from the chair and then spread your legs wide
and bend over, like a naughty schoolboy.
I stepped away from the chair. I thought I knew what was about to
happen as I parted my thighs and rested my palms on my knees, staring down at my sore prick.
Slowly with exquisite patience my wife traced the tab of the
crop up and around my inner thighs,my bumhole and the backs of my
thighs. I wiggled my whole body in keen
excitement trying to encourage her to keep on doing what she was doing. I could
have stayed like that all night as the crop tickled and caressed me.
After a minute or two of pleasuring me she ran the tab
between my legs and under my balls and with a quick flick of the wrist she slapped
the tab hard into the testicles. I caught my breath and absorbed the pain.
She slapped again harder this time and then in rapid strokes be must have
spanked my balls ten times. The pain was intense she hadn’t done this so hard
ever. On previous occasions she had spanked once and paused and then spanked
again and paused. Now it seemed for the first time she really wanted to punish me.
I focused my mind on the erotic side of what was happening, trying to capture
subspace in my head whilst concentrating on my submission.
She slapped my testicles another ten times and I dragged
an image into my head of my wife wearing leather trousers or maybe a latex
bodysuit and me as a much younger man being thrashed by this dominatrix. It
worked for a while and I managed to absorb the pain.
Then she really smacked me
with a sharp upwards stroke. I cried out "no ma’am ", "stop ma’am".
This wasn’t our safe
word but it was a plea from my heart. She ignored me. I was breaking out in a sweat holding my
position, head down watching the tab smack against the tender skin. Enough, enough, I
kept thinking as she continued the punishment. I figured she was trying to
break me and she was close to doing so. I yelped and moaned and finally, surprisingly, she stopped. No more slaps
against my painful swollen balls.
I am sorry
Mistress. Truly sorry. I won’t let you down again Mistress.
She whipped the crop hard with three strokes across my shoulders. She
had never flogged me there before.
Stay like you are. I am going to get a drink. I don’t think
I have ever got so much satisfaction out of whipping you and I want to enjoy this
some more.
I brought my legs together to make it easier to lock my knees
and stay bent over. I waited and waited.