The longing to be touched
To be punished
Called a Good Girl
The feeling of the cane cracking across my ass
The fresh whelps as they rise
Mmm all the magical things that make me scream
Make me cry
Make me call you Sir
My body rooted in place as my mind finds itself in sub space
Each crack of the cane
You tell me "Count them Little One"
All 22 of them
For each of the 22 minutes I was late arriving
Paying close attention to ensure I can take each and every hit and crack
Mmm Such a Good Girl
After each hit being sure to tell me not to cum
My punishment for being late
As you know the caning it's self is my reward
As we near the end Sir reaches down and runs a finger across my dripping wet slit
Reality sets in
I was a bad girl
I didn't hold my orgasm
To deeply rooted in sub space
This just will not do Sir says
We are better trained than this Little One
Sir takes out his favorite toy
Favorite stimulator and places it on my clit
You want to cum without permission
You take the rest with your least favorite toy
5 cracks to go
Willing myself not to cum again
So close to the edge
4
3
2
1
Sir drops the cane
Rubbing my hot bruised ass
YOU ARE READING
One Stormy Night
Short StoryAlone home scared she calls her Dominant to help ease her mind. What she gets is another story all together. One Stormy Night and a collection of short stories.
