Making a Masochist-Part II

To read Making a Masochist-Part I, click here.

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“What the fuck, Lisa!” I say much louder than I intend, but geez, why is she standing there, watching Ian fuck me?

Ian pulls my hair hard, yanking my head back and my eyes to his. “Language, dirty girl,” he growls.

“Sorry Sir, I forgot you were there.” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. This will not bode well. “I didn’t forget, Sir,” I quickly correct. “I just became distracted, I wasn’t expecting an audience.”

Lisa shuffles her feet as she watches our interaction. Most likely, like me, unsure how to progress from here. She’s removed her hand from her pants though, so that’s a start. But her eyes are still as wide as saucers.

Ian’s hand lands firmly on my ass, the sound lingering in the air for as long as the sting warms my behind. “Audience or no, your attention should always be on me. We’ll discuss punishment later. I see you know Lisa.”

Everything in my body stops, the breath I was slowly inhaling, the blood that was pumping through my veins, the last contractions of my orgasm. The only thing that keeps moving is my discomfort, sliding easily to anxiety. What is going on? I start to see spots before I remember I need air.

“Excuse me, Sir?” I stammer.

“Lisa, I see you know her. Would you come here please, Lisa?”

She walks towards us, Ian still buried inside me. I’m on my hands and knees, my breasts hanging, my hair in Ian’s grasp. I want to cover myself, to hide the parts that Lisa has already seen. Silly, I know. She just saw me get fucked, senseless, in a library, after using a brush handle as a dildo. But it didn’t seem like such a bad idea while it was happening. And my traitor of a vagina doesn’t think it’s a bad idea now either.

Holding me in place, Ian watches as Lisa approaches. Once she’s standing next to us, he pulls out of me and gets to his feet. The shuffling of clothing tells me he’s tucking himself away. I attempt to stand, but Ian’s foot gently rests on my back, keeping me in place. Accepting my fate, I take another deep inhalation and slowly exhale, getting ready for the long haul. I am no stranger to staying in position.

‘Thanks for joining us,” Ian begins. “I didn’t realise you two knew each other. Do you still want to continue with your training?”

I strain my ears, trying not to miss anything. An arduous task, with my eyes facing the floor. I can only see Lisa’s feet, and by the way she is shuffling on them, she’s just as uncomfortable as I am.

“Yes,” she says timidly. “I still want to learn.”

“Good. Are you still willing to learn with my submissive?” Ian asks.

I tense at his term. Learn what? Is Lisa a submissive, too? Does she want Ian to be her Dom?

“Yes, Master Ian. If she’s willing, I think it will be fine. And fun. Savannah is, well, Savannah.”

Master Ian? What-the-actual-fuck is going on?

“Good,” Ian replies. “Let me get Savannah in order and we’ll meet you upstairs in five minutes,” he continues, removing his foot from my back.

Without another word, Lisa turns and walks in the direction she came from. I stay in position, waiting for Ian’s signal that I can stand. After a minute and then two, I shift my position and clear my throat. I haven’t heard him move, but I’m not sure he’s still behind me.

“Always so impatient, slut. But you did well. Stand and face me.”

I stand and turn, letting my skirt fall around my hips, Ian’s release trickling down my thighs. I’m still half-naked, but under his gaze I feel blanketed, like I’m draped in fine silk. I see lust in his eyes, but also something darker, more carnal.

“I answered a local ad. Someone wanting training on how to be a Dominant, a Domme to be more precise. They had no experience and didn’t know how to go about meeting a submissive. I answered and here we are. Today was her first session. She was in the car with me when I called and came down when you left the loo. Do you want to continue, or do we end this now and I’ll train Lisa alone?”

I just stare at him, gulping like a fish out of water. “Sir?”

“I’m giving you the chance to say no, without your safeword, Savannah. What will it be? Will you help me train Lisa, and in the meantime, continue your training, or do I do it separately? It will not affect our arrangement either way.”

“I, uh, I’m not sure what to say. I wasn’t expecting any of today’s events, it’s been a little much.”

“Your list says you consent to public spaces, third parties, and exhibitionism. Should we reassess?”

He’s right, my list does say I consent to those things, at his discretion, and if I’m honest, it was really hot. Why am I so apprehensive about this? My usual self would lead a parade to make this happen.

“Of course, Sir. I’d love to help.” I finally say with more enthusiasm than I feel.

“Good.” He says with a rare smile. “Let’s go meet Lisa then. You should get dressed first though.” He continues with a smirk. I feel the blush start in my cheeks and spread down to my chest, my lower half feeling the heat of humiliation there too.

We find Lisa sitting on a bench by the library entrance, her long legs tucked elegantly beneath her. While I’ve seen her once a day for over a year now, it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time. She’s always been fairly shy and reserved, speaking only when spoken to and staying quiet when all else fails. She’s fair-skinned and slight, her long blond hair framing a face resembling more of that of a pixie than the big bad Dom she hopes to be. But there’s a fire in her eyes I don’t remember seeing before. A fresh source of determination. Good for her.

She stands as we approach, her hands linking to keep them from fidgeting. I smile even as I have my eyes diverted, remembering the nerves at the beginning, that first time that I learned the terms of my arrangement. When I first realized that my fantasies were nothing like reality.

“Thank you for waiting,” Ian says as he pushes open the door. We walk to his car, and he holds the backdoor open for me, showing I am to get in. Lisa takes the front and I can’t help but frown as she does. Why does this feel weird?

Ian gets in the driver’s seat, and glances at me, reminding me to wipe the look from my face, and starts the car. We sit there until after taking a deep breath he says, “Savannah will help us with your training.” Lisa nods but doesn’t respond. I hold my breath, not wanting to miss a word of what he says.

“She’s also in need of punishment, for her language and forgetting to keep her attention on her Dom, and because I can, for skipping class. The language part will be easy and will tie in with missing class. The not being focused part, not so much.” He looks directly at me with a, I’m not impressed look, then continues. “So, if you’d like to learn about punishments today, we’d be happy to have you along. If not, I can drop you at home, on our way. Isn’t that right, dirty slut?”

I feel the red creeping into my face again. It’s different being called a slut in front of someone I know. Not wrong, but different. I squirm in my seat to relieve the pressure created by the threat of punishment and say, “Yes, Sir,” even though I want to argue that missing class isn’t technically my fault.

He looks at Lisa and awaits her decision. She looks at him, then me, then him again, then finally nods and buckles up. I take it she’s coming with us.

Arriving at Ian’s home, we pile out, me at the back of the line, where Ian likes me to be. One step behind, to the right. I wait for him to unlock the door, after which he steps aside and motions for Lisa to enter. “Living room is on the left, kitchen on the right. Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be right back. Savannah has a task to complete.” Ian states before turning away.

I stiffen at his words and the implied threat that accompanies them. He moves toward the back of the house, stopping in the shade of a pussy willow tree, the fuzzy pods displaying the cat shapes that give them their name. Handing me as a pair of snips, Ian says, “Cut five branches, not thicker than your thumb, no smaller than your pinky. Leave the pods on two, strip the others of their bark and meet me in the house.” He turns and walks to the front, leaving me standing there, confused, once again.

I complete the task, rubbing the little balls of fluff between my fingers, marveling at how soft they are before letting them drop to the ground. Once finished, I head inside, where I find Lisa and Ian talking in the living room. Lisa appears to have gotten over her discomfort, laughing gently at something Ian has said. On the coffee table is a piece of ginger root and a paring knife. Beside that, a wand and a couple of towels, a length of rope, and some clamps. Shit!

“Place the switches on the table beside the other implements and fetch a chair from the dining room please, Savannah. When you return, strip and kneel at the room entrance and present yourself for punishment.”

After retrieving the chair, I kneel in the entranceway, lowering my head and letting my eyes close briefly to take in the moment. This seems very surreal, like I’m not really here and watching through someone else’s eyes. Everything seems fuzzy and a little dreamlike. But the feel of the carpet under my knees tells me this is really happening. I wait for a couple of minutes trying to listen to Ian and Lisa, but besides the rumble of lowered voices, I can’t make out their words.

Eventually they both turn to me and I gulp at the synchronicity of it. Like their minds can work together. They both look at me expectantly, like I’m supposed to say something, but again, I’m confused.

Ian clears his throat and stands, walking toward me. “Do you know why you are being punished, slut?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“For using vile language and forgetting my place in front of my Dom,“ I say, knowing that’s what he wants to hear. “Sir,” I finish quickly, not wanting to add to it.

“Any other reason, Slut?” he asks like I’m daft.

“Because I missed class,” I start, “but that’s not technically my fault,” I continue, even though I know I should shut up.

“I don’t care, Savannah,” Ian states shortly. “You missed class and you know the consequences, fault is of no importance, you could have safeworded.”

“Is Lisa being punished for missing class?” I ask haughtily.

Lisa stiffens at my words, but a smile creeps across her face. She comes to stand beside Ian.

“And who would punish me for missing class, little girl? You?” she asks, kneeling and grabbing my chin. This is a different Lisa, not the quiet girl from study group. I swallow, seeing steal form in her eyes.

“No, Lisa, not me.“ I reply.

“That’s Lady Lisa, to you, slut” she hisses at me, all but throwing my face out of her hand.

My eyes go round, my mouth probably does too. I blink, look at Ian, who is smiling wickedly as well, and then back at Lisa. I sigh in resignation.

“Yes, Lady Lisa. No, I will not punish you, that is not my place.” I reply.

Her smile grows, stretching from ear to ear, but doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s full of promise and menace.

She steps back, and Ian takes over. “Stand and lay a towel on the seat of the chair, I don’t want your dirty cunt juices getting everywhere and then straddle it, standing with the back pressed against your stomach.”

After swallowing my humiliation, I get in place and feel him step behind me. His hands run down my arms, up my thighs, and stop on my lower back. Keeping one hand pressed there, he runs the other up my spine, stopping between my shoulder blades. Pressing gently but with enough force to let me know he wants me to move, he bends me over the back of the chair. “Arms straight, palms on the floor.”

I stretch out, feeling the wooden rail pressing into my hips. My pussy is on display, the central air whispering over my heated flesh. I feel arousal building in my core. Even though I know this isn’t about pleasure, the humiliation of it makes my blood sing.

Lisa walks over with a coil of rope and squats down, turning my head towards her. “I’m going to bind your arms and legs to the chair legs, let me know if it’s too tight.”

She makes quick work of the rope, telling me she’s at least used it before. Once I’m effectively held down, she steps out of view.

I feel the ropes come up and wrap around my waist; the strands tying my midsection to the chair as well, then something hard is wedged between the backing and my vulva. The hum starts before the vibrations of the wand press against my most sensitive part. The little motor reverberating through me.

“No coming,” Ian says, slapping my ass to amplify his point. I hiss, embracing the sting. The sounds of the wand’s vibrations echo through the air. I can feel moisture running down my legs, my traitorous pussy not caring that I’m about to be plugged, whipped, and used. If anything, she thinks that’s a great idea.

I moan as pleasure races through me, closing my eyes tight, trying to think of anything besides the humming between my legs. Suddenly, fingers are exploring my depths, the dampness gathered there not allowing me to know whose fingers they are. Lisa’s feet come into view, and I know they are Ian’s. I sigh, of relief or disappointment, I’m not sure, but thinking of fingers navigating my folds has me clenching, doing my best not to fall over the plateau of orgasm.

I feel Lisa lean against my back and then her hands grab my ass cheeks, pulling them apart. Ian’s fingers move from my wet hole to the puckered one above, moving my juices from one to the other. He pushes his finger into my ass, using my own arousal as lubricant. After a couple of thrusts, he pulls out completely. I moan again, trying not to enjoy the incredible sensations.

Again something pushes against my anus, something bigger than his finger. It slides in gently, but before it enters completely, stops, keeping me stretched open. I sense what starts as a slight tingle and I clench, trying to push the offending object out. Big mistake. The tightening of my muscles turns the tingle to a burn and then to an inferno.

The fire in my ass is all-consuming. This is what lava feels like. I’m sure of it. I let out a low scream, then start panting.

“Don’t fight it Savannah, you’ll just make it worse. It’s a ginger plug. The more you tense, the more the burn will… well, burn. You have 30 minutes left.”

I scream louder, angry that he’s doing this, angry that he’s letting Lisa watch, but angry mostly because I love it. It hurts, but the pain is delicious. The wand keeps my climax at the forefront of my mind, holding back the climax, makes me tense up, tightening my ass around the ginger, increasing the burn. I feel everything and I want more.

My eyes close as I try to squirm, but the ropes are too tight. I try pushing away from the wand, but the ropes are too tight. I can’t even clench my fists as my palms are flat against the floor. So, I do the only thing I can think of, I recite the alphabet.

“a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h,I,j,k,l, uhhhhhhhgg” even that can’t keep the impending orgasm at bay. I feel my control slipping. If I just let go, I’ll come. My panting becomes deep ragged breaths. Ian comes into view and squats in front of me, lifting my head.

“You need to breathe, Savannah, or you’ll pass out. You have many minutes left. If you pass out, it’ll just be put off until another day. Breathe, with me.” He breathes in, then out repeatedly, and I mimic his motions. “Remember, you can ask if you need help,” he says once I’m under control.

I think about what he is saying and nod. He stands and walks away. I hear him and Lisa speaking in low tones again and get a slight reprieve from the burn, but before I can celebrate, the impending climax is at the top of my priorities again.

“Sir, I’m going to come. Please help me!” I scream out. Ian comes to my side and runs his hands over my backside. The change in temperature and sensations stalls my impending doom. I sigh and am just about to say thank you, when a different fire streaks across my ass. I hear the whistle of the switch long before it connects.

“Count, Slut!” Ian roars. My count of one comes at the same time as the second blow. The sting of the repeated strike takes the air from my lungs with the discomfort it creates. It feels like blisters have formed across my flesh, like it’s flayed open and bleeding. Ian’s hands brush over the stripe, soothing the burn and turning it to pleasure. 

“Two,” I say, following with a moan, letting him know his ministrations are not helping. His hand leaves my ass and a third blow strikes, blazing across my thighs. I hear Ian’s intake of breath, arousal laced in the sound.

“Your ass is so lovely, slut. Starting to bruise from your self-inflicted spanking and now marked with red strikes, my ownership labeled here,” he rubs the first stripe, “and here,” he rubs the second. His tongue whispers across the third before his teeth dig into my flesh. It starts as a gentle nip, then the pressure increases. He bites me harder and harder until I’m sure his teeth will be permanently embedded in my ass. He bites me until I let out a scream of pain, then he slowly releases the pressure.

“Did that take your mind off the ginger plug, dirty girl? You liked that, didn’t you?”

I don’t reply; I don’t think I can.

The sound of the branch swinging fills my ears before it connects, and I have time to brace myself before it strikes. It does nothing to dampen the pain, but gives me a moment to strengthen myself. I moan again, doing my best not to tighten my floor muscles. The strikes of the switches become a constant sensation and I feel myself start to float under the undulations, my mind losing the will to stay in the here and now. I start to drift, the pain and pleasure mixing to become comfortable numbness.

I hear moans and sounds of an impending orgasm before I register they are mine. My climax is knocking on the door, waiting for me to open it. All I have to do is let it through and I can float away. The lashes strike down without reserve, the wand tickling my sensitive bud, telling it to just let go. The ginger in my ass is less a burn and more of a pleasant bite. My eyes close and I follow the darkness. Not before letting the dam gates open.

My orgasm starts in my core, spreading out to my limbs. My head becomes heady with it. It rushes to the gate and spills over. A scream tears from my throat as a gush of fluid is released from between my legs, soaking my thighs, the towel, and the floor. The last contractions clear before I realise the wand has stopped and Ian has removed the plug. Through the ragged sound of my breathing, I hear Ian say, “You should not have come Savannah! You’re going to regret that.”

To be continued…

For more Mmm’s, lick the lips

To read Part 1 of this story, see Making a Masochist-Part I, for other erotic stories, see Fiction by MrsK, or check out my kinky pictures in Photography.