Please Me: Parisian Punishment (5 page)

“I mean it. I am here with you, not anyone else. That makes two.” Two what? But she nodded and tried her best not to look around. Or not too much at least. There was no way she couldn’t goggle at some of what she saw.

“If the lounge has you looking like that, then the basement would have you in a dead faint.” Basement? And that left her to wonder, what would she see in there?

Sub Standard

Pierre knew the moment he mentioned the word basement that he had tapped his wife’s curiosity. But he didn’t plan to indulge her tonight. On another day? Yes, he certainly planned on letting her take a look at what the dungeon offered the jaded. But if she got a look at anything below stairs tonight, she would definitely run back to the US tonight. And she would probably leave her clothes behind. But he would take her upstairs and let her watch the demonstration about to take place.
 

He led her to the stairs and he brought her into the first room on the left. He reserved this particular room because the windows were two way glass, they could see what happened, but the occupants couldn’t see out. At first he wanted the white room which was the third door on the left, and would give him a view from the other side of the training that would take place. But the view on this side was even better. The participants actually faced his side of the room and Shari would be afforded a better view.

Pierre turned on the speakers using the remote beside the door. He could hear the bondage artist give directions as he tied off rope in different patterns for various body parts.

“So what do you think Shari?”

“I don’t know what to say Pierre. Is that what you want to do to me?”

“Sometimes, not every day.” She appeared shaken, and he knew she was trying to accept the idea of being clothed in a rope cast from head to foot just like the model only a handful of feet away.

“Why this Pierre?”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Pierre stood behind Shari and caressed her. Everywhere the bondage master laid hands and rope on his willing canvas, so did Pierre treat the same area of her skin with a light touch then a firm clasp.

“You cannot get the complete idea now, but it is supposed to mock swaddling.”
“Swa-what? Like babies?”

“Exactly. The idea of swaddling is to mimic the protective feel of being in the womb. I promise you would love it.”

“How do you do it? Is it always with ropes or…?”

“Not with ropes always, but when suspension games are desired during a swaddling session, this is the best way to do it. The constriction of one limb at a time until the body is completely encased usually sends a submissive in to subspace.”

“What’s sub…space?”

“Now that is your last question, Shari. As is, it is time to give you the two punishments you earned. Now, subspace is something that I cannot describe to you. You can only feel it to understand where you have been.” He took one trembling hand in his and rubbed the fat tissue at the base of her thumb.

Pierre bade Shari to strip and she was much quicker this time than this morning, which he appreciated. When she was completely nude he had her fold the dress before she laid the tiny folded square on the nearby chair. When he was done with directives, Shari was naked, save a tiny panty and the strappy shoes he personally tied on her feet. He grabbed a fistful of her untamable mane and kissed her like the starving man he was.

He opened the drawer and found the fresh toys he’d requested waiting for him. Pierre pulled out the thick bondage ribbon first. Then he dug out the rubber anal plug and lubricant. The last thing he wanted hung on the wall beside the bed and he plucked a wood handled flogger from the wall.

“What are you going to do with all of that?” Shari asked, her tone pitched high enough to call dogs.

“Didn’t I say that you had already had your last question? That makes three, kitten.” She shivered and backed away from him. It was no matter as she was going to do as he wished tonight and the rest of their lives.
 

Shari clumsily bumped into the chair behind her and almost tumbled backwards over the seat.

He tsked her. “I thought last night showed you that running was not an option.”

As he lowered her over the chair Shari squirmed and tried vainly to evade him. But he had all of the control in the situation and she would just have to learn that. If she didn’t, there would be more punishment than pleasure in her future. He lay atop her, used his body to stop her incessant squirms and his knees pinned hers to the floor until she stilled. From there, Pierre tied her to the chair with the bondage ribbon, first her hands were bound to the legs on the left side then her knees were lashed to the chair legs on the right.

When he began to prepare her for the first part of her punishment, she quivered and gasped. Pierre gripped the tiny underwear at her hips and ripped the fabric to naught and stuffed the wet mass in his pocket. His hands shucked her hair over her face as his lips made way from her nape along her spine until he reached the seam bisecting her ass into halves. His tongue delved forward and tasted the dark seam and salt of her flesh. He allowed the tip of his probing oral muscle to dip slightly within her flesh and enjoyed the vicarious experience of her swift acquiescence into risqué seduction. She jerked as her limbs jealously trembled for attention and the chesty vibrations she emitted were similar to the purring cat he always likened her to.

He continued to test her responses to the stimuli, and he wouldn’t let up even when he knew she was too burdened with her fleshly seduction to take more. If she wanted to know what the space of giving herself totally to another felt like he would show her right now. Even though he knew she wasn’t capable of handling more he gave it to her anyway. Pierre pushed her so far over the edge she never got the chance to know what it felt like to hang at the precipice. She just plummeted over and went screaming the whole way. He let her have this orgasm as the pleasure would allow her to ease into the anal possession with the plug he had at the ready.

Once she was done convulsing, she laid limply atop the chair’s tufting. Pierre used the small bottle of lube to grease his fingers. He gave her one digit in a steady firm press inside of the expanding canal of rectum. Shari still quivered amid orgasmic spasms when he added the second digit and no sooner than he spread the fingers apart she was carried over the peak again. He used the strength of the waves to eject his fingers then he pressed the base of the jelly plug inside of her. The probe was built to give her large and larger bulbs until the largest one was seated inside of her. She took the first three without issue, as if she barely noticed the intruder amongst the sea of sensations she swam in. When he reached the fourth one she keened, and he would have been unsure if the sound was one of pleasure or pain, but she cried his name in way that let him know she could handle more. He hadn’t planned on stretching her too much farther tonight, but the way she accepted the anal violation made him cocky and far too excited to stop now.

The fifth bead was an eye opener as she cursed him. “God, Pierre just fuck me!”

When he reached the sixth and final one she sweated from every pore, and he couldn’t resist a long lick over her dew coated spine. Pierre could only feel gratitude that he wasn’t fucking her yet. If he had the bad sense to give her the cocking she cried out for he would have lost all control. As is he only worked on half cylinders not all. If he was inside of her, he would fuck her brains out before she could say his name.

Alien Anal Probe

Shari was adrift in a sea of decadent pleasure and fire at the hands of a man who looked just like her husband. But the male before her was a different animal all together. Her body no longer belonged to herself, she was wholly owned by Pierre, for his pleasure. She could feel the sticky remains from sweat on her skin and the copious amount of cum that still dripped to her knees. Her husband had her in a state of rapture that she never imagined the sexual act could encompass. She was a slave to her senses and her spouse.

The plug was danger to her sanity. The fat bulb at the base left her in a bad way and every time her womb clenched she was driven closer towards the ultimate pleasure.

“Now that you have been pleased, my wife, it is time to punish you.”

What did she do? Shari could barely remember her own name let alone what transgressions she had wrought to bring her to this moment.

“There will be ten lashes for each infraction. Do you remember how many times I counted aloud to you, kitten?”

“Ahhh…” She droned off as she vainly tried to remember how many times he counted aloud to her tonight.

“No, sir or yes, sir. Those are the only responses I will accept when we are together this way. If you wish to speak then just say sir and I will either give or deny permission.”

“No, Sir.”

“Très Bon. I counted to trois, Shari. Do the math.”

“Thirty, sir?”

“Oui.” She couldn’t see the torture device he was about to use on her, but she knew it was near.
 

She felt the displacement of air and a slight ripple as the item moved around her. Shari felt the object when he let the fronds dangle against her plugged wide open ass. The fronds were soft, and she guessed they may have been leather. But she was too gone to be certain of the make of the thing he used to tease her. The strips dragged over her skin until she felt them against her shoulder and she looked back at him, at them. At that moment she saw the flogger and the sight made her quiver nervously.

Can I take this?

“Before I use this on you, I will let you feel it. This is a flogger, if you were unsure of what it is called.”

The fronds slid farther down her arm and teased the tips of her fingers. She unclenched her hand from the chair leg and gripped the proffered strands as if they were a lifeline. The leather was firm yet soft as suede to her finger pads. When from out of nowhere he snatched the fringe from her and she no longer anything to keep her cognizant.

There was no warning before the first stroke plucked across her skin. When the teasing tool was used as an implement of torture she learned just how close pleasure was to pain. Each motion made a sound, and she could hear each whistle of air along with the bare crack of leather on her flesh. The audible signs of her torture turned into music and crafted an aria of desire she gyrated to. The line was thin and blurred until she was unsure whether the strokes hurt or whether she was just too sensitive to each strike. All she knew was that she wanted more and he gave it. Her body danced beneath the faint lashes he gave her. The strokes took a cadence all their own and sent her into a place only her mind could go and her body was left behind. The lashes bit her soul harmonically, provided her organs a rhythm to orgasm to and she was almost there. The idea of the end already saddened her. She didn’t want him to stop now. As a matter of fact, she didn’t want him to ever stop.

When he gave the last few stripes they landed across her ass squarely and beat at the base of the plug. The added pressure sent her soaring from the ground to the stratosphere and into unknown orbit. She left her body below somewhere and she didn’t care about whether she made it back or not. Everything around her evolved into vast blind oblivion and nothing was enough to pull her into the world again.

Coming to the Beat of a Different Drum

Pierre watched his wife dance to the tune of his lashes and nearly came in his pants. The whole concept of tonight’s punishment was to envelop her until she emerged whole and new. The perfect slave for him. She was that and more. He had never seen a woman fall into the newness of sub space with such ease, as if she entrusted her very life, being, breath to him. As if she allowed him to own her instead of him wresting ownership. God he loved her, and she had taken to her punishment so well, she deserved everything she wanted.

He untied her from the cruel position across the chair and her mind was still somewhere else. She was covered in her own secretions, the damp film of sweat as base note that mixed headily with her natural scent and the mouthwatering aroma of pussy. He laid her the bed face down and massaged her. His hands roamed the flesh he knew better than his own and easily located every tight muscle and sore spot. The massage brought her back to him slowly and he heard her groan as he kneaded her hands.

“Did you enjoy?”

“Oui, Sir.” She spoke in a small voice, as if she was far away instead of by his side.
“Non, Shari. This is afterplay and I want to hear everything. How did you feel?” He heard her give a slight huff and he chuckled before she gave him what he sought.