Auction Ch. 17

Jen nestled against Ethan’s chest as she sat in his lap, reveling in how good he smelled. It had been a trying day, and she was ready to go back to the hotel and grab a shower, a nap, and her lover.

He held tight, his broad arms encircling her. At the moment he was idly nibbling on her neck, which was making her giggle.

“Master,” she said in a small voice, surprised at what she was about to ask.

“Yes?”

“Master, I have one more question to ask of you.”

“Yes, my pet?” One hand grazed her buttock, sending a delightful shiver running through her. She wanted him so very badly, but somewhere over the last week she’d come to realize that she wanted the pleasurepain too.

Jen kept her eyes lowered as she climbed out of his lap and knelt before him. She put her hands behind her back and spread her legs wide; a traditional stance he often made her assume. “This slave would ask a favor of her Master, Sir.”

Ethan regarded her for a minute. She couldn’t tell whether he was actually surprised by this or simply playing out the time to torment her. Either way, the effect was there … she began to tremble, anxious that she’d overstepped some boundary.

Jen forced herself to be still. She could steal feel the presence of the newly inducted Cailey in the room. If that woman could be brave enough to willingly enter service for her lover, she could be brave enough to ask Ethan for what she needed.

After all, she’d been in Ethan’s service for months now, almost a year. The favor she sought was nothing new … it was just that she’d never really asked for it before.

At last he spoke, breaking the silence of the office. “Yes?”

Barely a whisper from him, and yet it made her wet just to hear his voice. Sometimes she marveled at the way he’d taken over her psyche. Somewhere over the past ten months she’d lost herself in him; the recent three-day training session had only served to cement that hold.

Jen licked her lips and steeled herself. With a deep breath, she asked her favor, all in a rush. “This slave asks her master to please spank her. She has not been spanked in some time and needs to be.”

“What was that, my little slut?”

“Spank me, Sir. Whip me. Flog me. Use me. Please, Sir, I need it. I need you to whip me.”

Ethan was silent again for a moment, and then leaned forward in the heavy leather chair. “No, I don’t think so. It’s been only a day since you came out of training. Your body doesn’t need it again so soon.”

Jen fell forward with a wail. He’d rejected her!

Truth be told, the nature of his denial startled her. On some level she’d expected him to simply acquiesce. To command her to stand and assume a position. That he might question her readiness, however, hadn’t even occurred to her as a possibility. To date he’d pushed her so far beyond her comfort zones, that she’d simply assumed she was ready for anything.

Ethan leaned forward and twined his fingers in her long, blonde curls, and then tightened his grip until she had tears in her eyes. He pulled back, dragging her up until his arm was level with the desk and she was forced back into a more traditional kneeling submissive pose.

She knew he favored using her hair to move her about, not least for the sheets of pain – simple pain – it produced. Gasping from the agony, she tried to control her breathing and assume the proper form. After a long minute of struggling she managed to spread her legs wide once more and lean back, her hands placed beside her.

He released his grip almost immediately and then leaned back in his chair. She kept her eyes on the floor, but could feel his terrible gaze on her.

Had it been such a sin for her to ask to be spanked? Apparently so, for she could feel his displeasure every bit as much as the points of her heels pressing into her toned buttocks.

“You do not tell me what you need, Slut. I am not interested in it.” His voice was ice, and it made her mouth dry with fear to hear him talk to her in this tone. “You belong to me. When I want to spank you, I will spank you. Whether you ‘need’ it or not.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, wringing her hands in despair behind her back. Why did she keep making these mistakes? She’d been with him long enough to know better. And yet she still didn’t entirely understand her place in this strange world she’d entered.

“So when I tell you you’re not ready, that you need to rest, then that is final. My word is law to you. You are mine until you use your safeword. After you use it, you’re free to seek out your needs. Until then, you are to conduct yourself in a manner befitting your station.”

“Yes, Sir.” She kept mersin escort her head bowed, he kept quiet, and a terrible tension began to seep into the room.

After a moment, he turned away; she could hear the leather chair creak as he moved.

How then to convince him? Despite herself, she really wanted to be spanked. Something about the trip from the Driskill to his office had left her aching to be treated like a slutslave. The passionate bouts of lovemaking from the night before had been beautiful, but Jen realized that she’d truly embraced her new status.

His word was law in his household. She could accept that. She’d lived with it all these months, after all.

She was Ethan’s concubine. His bound submissive. His whore. Truly, she had become his slutslave, fulfilling every aspect of that title.

Jen had long since realized that she wanted to be treated like that. The freedom of living as an extension of his will had proved immensely liberating for her; those years of self-doubt and insecurity seemed like a hazy bad dream these days. And the sex … even thinking about the way he played her body to orgasm after orgasm just made her wet.

But she wanted him to fulfill this growing hunger in her, no matter the cost. Her body positively ached for the whip, the crop, the flogger, the paddle … all the more so because he’d made it clear she couldn’t have any of them.

“Master,” she said again, surprising herself, “I simply must be spanked. I’ve been so bad to you, I need to be punished.”

She was awash in sexual heat, a raw hunger rising in her that drowned out any sense of reason or propriety.

His hand lashed out so hard she fell out of her pose and onto the room’s hardwood floor. Starburst appeared in her eyes and her head throbbed from the sudden collision with the polished wood.

Ethan sat back in his chair. “What did I just tell you? I decide what you need, Slut. I decide when you will be punished.”

Jen nodded, hot tears in her eyes. She’d been so foolish to think that she could direct him to satisfy her by provoking him. But she was so hot, so ready, that she couldn’t think clearly.

She needed to be spanked.

“Stand up.” At the sound of his voice, she practically sprang from the floor, eager to show him that she was his good girl. Ethan stood and strode over to her.

Twin jolts of pleasurepain rocketed through her body as he swiftly reached up and grasped both of her nipple rings. Jen thrashed in silent agony, the spikes of pain matched only by the sudden throbbing of her clitoris. Suddenly, the fugue was just behind her eyes, ready to consume her.

“You don’t listen.”

He twisted the rings, rolling his hands outward slowly but deliberately until she thought he would tear the rings from her body. She whimpered at this deliberate torture, but reveled in the way it summoned the fugue in her. Jen could feel her clitoris within her, burning brightly as her body struggled to process the sensations of his touch.

“I wonder if those three days weren’t enough for you.” He looked her over in a very clinical manner. As her mind began to collapse beneath the creeping fugue, Jen wondered what more his trainers might do to her. She couldn’t remember it all, but she did recall that much of it had been quite unpleasant.

“I wonder whether they taught you to control your hunger, or just to control your hunger for others.”

His grip on her nipples was so very tight; she almost couldn’t breathe from the desire building in her.

“I think that even if you used your safeword today, I’d simply ignore it. I think you’re that far gone.”

Frankly, when he talked like this she wanted to throw herself against him and beg him to fuck her.

Like a bitch in heat.

But she couldn’t. As if sensing her evaporating self control, he lifted his hands up, pulling her up onto her tip toes by her nipples. Jen let out a long ragged moan as he did this, and began to pant.

She’d come so far with him. Her old self was truly gone.

“Now, let’s see if we can’t make you understand my point.”

Ethan led her around to the front of the desk, walking slowly backwards as she tottered forward, dragged by the firm grip he had on her. The pain of it was so intense she thought she might pass out, but the raw hunger for him kept her upright and compliant.

“As you were before. Assume the position.” She could only comply, so driven as she was to have him fuck her. Quickly she spread her legs wide and bent at the waist, reaching for the far corners of the desk with her arms. The cool wood helped salve her mersin escort bayan tortured buds, even if it crushed her full breasts against her.

Within seconds, the sharp spikes turned into a deep ache.

She smiled at this, happy that he had blessed her with such lingering pleasurepain.

As she stood there in silence, thinking of an argument that would convince him to satisfy her craving, rather than simply punish her she could feel her pert buttocks tingling in anticipation.

Would he use an actual paddle? They had several at the house that he’d taught her to adore. Perhaps a flogger? He often did; she’d come to think of it as his favorite. Or perhaps his hand?

Surely in an office like this he had to have some instrument available to him.

Mmm, she thought to herself, his hand would be lovely. That blessed sharp kiss of his skin against hers as he spanked her would be the purest fulfillment of her need.

WHAP!!!

The force of his first slap nearly sent her over the desk.

She purred with satisfaction at the stinging heat radiating from what could only be a red handprint on her right buttock.

“Now, if you move, if you cum, I will release you from my service immediately. You are here to serve me. Not to question me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, struggling to stave off her orgasm, to hear him clearly and respond.

She heard him step back, and then move back to his chair. After a moment he sat down again. Her head was mere inches from him, but he ignored her completely. Instead, he picked up a sheaf of papers and began to read.

Was this all, she wondered? Was he really going to sit there and read?

But she was so ready for him … so willing … so wet.

But as the moments passed and he remained seated reading quietly, Jen began to grow feverish from her denied release. She’d worked herself into such frenzy thinking about him spanking her. To be forced to stay still now was a form of torture for her.

Her legs trembled as her pussy spasmed with need. Her shaved sex was wet and ready, thrust out for him, and yet he scorned it.

Jen could still feel the handprint of that one delicious slap on her right buttock, knew that its red was fading with time, and whimpered. There would be no more … her need would consume her.

And such a terrible punishment for her if she moved, if she so much as shifted her legs to ease the strain of her stance or accommodate her cravings.

She kept her head pressed to the desk, hiding in the wonderful mass of her curls.

Ethan reached over her for the phone. For one moment, as his arm brushed her shoulder, she thought he was going to release her from the pose; that he would tell her she’d suffered long enough.

That he would take her from behind.

That he would fuck her until people in the streets below could hear her screams.

But he did none of this. Instead, he lifted the receiver and pressed a button. “Miyu, please bring me a cup of coffee … yes, one sugar cube and a little cream. Thank you.”

He placed the receiver back in the set and resumed his reading.

Jen waited, savoring the cruel joy of her body slowly releasing its passion. It would be hours yet before she truly found her center.

Would he leave her like this until then?

She hoped so.

An hour passed, and still she burned with desire. He said nothing.

By the end of the second hour, however, she managed to calm herself, slowing her breathing somewhat.

Sensing this he spanked her three more times, and then ran his finger along the length of her sex, making her whimper as she held herself still. He lingered briefly on her asshole, pushing in on her tight bud slightly until she began to pant again.

Then he resumed his reading.

With just a touch he’d destroyed her all over again.

After a moment, the door to the office opened. She heard someone enter, and then Ethan placed his papers on the desk beside her head. “Move,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument. She shuffled back and knelt down.

Even with her eyes downcast in an appropriate pose, she could see that ‘Miyu’ was the young Asian woman who’d led her into the office just a short time ago. She could see the dark seam of her stockings and the shiny black mules the woman wore, and envied her for her lithe figure.

But only a little … she was fiercely proud of the sexual goddess she’d become under Master Ethan’s care.

Jen heard the woman set a tray on the desk, and then prepare her Master’s coffee. After a moment, she heard Ethan take and escort mersin sip, and then thank the secretary.

“You’re most welcome, Sir. May I be of any further service?” No willful submissive here, Jen though to herself as her body shivered with the aftershocks of her denied release. Miyu appeared to be a model slutslave; the archetypical Asian submissive.

That status, however, Jen could hate her for.

Ethan rose from his chair. “Yes, Miyu. I have one more task for you. Please assume the position … yes … there will do nicely.”

Jen’s mind screamed with indignation at what was about to occur. The one thing she desired the most, he would not give her. Instead, this … this … plaything would get his talents instead.

“Would you prefer the crop or the paddle, Miyu?”

“The paddle, Sir.” The woman’s voice was soft and honeyed. It was hard to hate anyone with a voice that wonderful, and yet, as she heard Ethan open a draw and take out a paddle, she did.

But she remained silent, kneeling in continued supplication as bitter jealousy coursed through her. Her body burned with desire, and she wondered if she would be able to endure the sound of another submissive being spanked without orgasming herself.

And he’d made it very clear that she mustn’t orgasm.

Suddenly, Ethan was behind her. His hands reached around and grasped her nipples again. As before, he pulled her to her feet with sheets of pleasurepain.

Though his touch was lighter this time, the effect was just as terrible. She grew wet and achy again, a moan torn from her as she struggled to her feet.

“You’re going to watch me paddle this slave, and by the time I am done you’re going to beg me to take her place. She won’t make a sound, but everyone in this office will hear you beg for me.” His voice was hot in her ear, and then he moved away from her.

He was right, she realized. The sight before her told her as much. Somehow he knew what she was thinking, what she would feel as he took

Jen panted with her renewed fugue as she looked on at the event that was about to occur: The trim, young Asian secretary standing at the desk, her body bent slightly so that her pert ass stood out for Master Ethan. The leather spanking skirt framed her ass perfectly; it presented a ripe target for Master Ethan. One that was as pleasing to the eye as it would be to his paddle. Miyu had removed the pale jade blouse, and her small breasts stood out proudly, with dark nipples hungry and ready for his touch. Her body was lean and trim, with long legs for her frame. And her hair poured down before her like liquid midnight, utterly black despite the bright lights.

The look on the woman’s face was relaxed, as if this was a normal part of her duties; and yet hungry. Clearly, Miyu was as eager to be spanked as she was. The woman’s lips were pursed in anticipation.

Ethan stepped between them, and began to remove his suit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and Jen knew he was only undressing himself only for her. That he was teaching her that denial was every bit as much a training tool for him as was the whips she so loved and feared. That his will would never be broken by her.

When he finally removed his boxers and she could see the full length of his cock standing fully erect, she knew then how cruel he could be.

He smiled at her as he picked up a heavy leather paddle. Her eyes locked onto it, and seeing this, he moved it back and forth for a moment, watching her gaze track it.

“Hands up, Slut. I have a gift for you.” She raised her hands from her sides and held them out in front of her. Jen knew what was coming, knew that it would make the coming ordeal even worse. She knew that he was taking this extra measure simply because she needed it.

Ethan placed the wonderful instrument on her upturned palms. He stepped to her and leaned in until she could smell his skin. Jen shivered as her sex gasped.

“If you drop this paddle,” he said, “I won’t punish you. I won’t do anything to you for a whole month. You’ll burn for a whole month.”

She nodded, a spike of horror at being thusly denied stabbing through the rising fugue. She resolved not to fail him for her own sake.

Ethan turned and walked back to the desk. He ran his hands over the rounded beauty of Miyu’s ass, but kept his gaze fixed on her. Jen saw the woman shiver, knowing that she was about to be driven to heights of pleasure unattainable by most.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

His open hand moved back around to caress the small breasts, playing with one nipple as the Asian beauty’s ass grew red. Jen saw the woman bite her lip; but not a sound came from her.

Ethan stepped behind the waiting submissive, and raised his hand slowly for her to see.

Jen moaned at what was coming.

“Now pay attention. I want you see all of this.”

When it was over, she collapsed into his arms.

But she hadn’t cum.

And she hadn’t dropped the paddle.