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From: jumper30@aol.com (Jumper30)
Subject: NEW & RP: NEW PLATEAUS: Part 3 by Jumper (M/F caning/sex)
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(Warning: this story contains graphic scenes of sexual discipline; not
intended for readers under 21 years of age.)
(Note from Jumper: My apologies if this post is a duplicate for some of
you, but part 3 is not showing up on reader: just parts 1, 2, and 4. So I
thought I'd repost part 3 "just in case.")
NEW PLATEAUS: part three
by Jumper
Almost a week went by before Darla visited me again. She hadn't
called first, but fortunately, I was alone so she didn't get her feelings
hurt. I was surprised that I was so glad to see her. Was the girl
growing on me?
"I missed you, Charles," said Darla. Then we kissed long and hard,
until finally I broke away and settled on the sofa to see what she would
do. I was both pleased and disappointed when her soft, sexy body snuggled
on the cushion next to me. Disappointed, because she had chosen to disobey
my rules; I guess she hadn't taken me seriously. Pleased, because she had
given me an excuse to punish her.
As she lifted her beautiful face to renew our kiss, I said, "Aren't
you forgetting
something, Darla?"
She looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
I nodded at the walnut coat tree. "I told you that whenever you
visit me, you must check your clothes at the door."
She looked concerned as if suddenly remembering last week's spanking.
"You mean you were serious?" she asked with a trembing voice.
"As taxes."
Blushing, Darla swallowed then stood and unbuttoned her blouse as
she walked toward the door. Before she got too far, I said, "It's too
late now, Darla. You had your chance, but you blew it."
She nodded, as if she had expected me to say that. For the first
time I considered the possibility that she had deliberately disobeyed just
to test me. If so, she would soon regret her brashness. "You've earned
yourself ten strokes with the cane," I said.
Darla gasped, and her face turned deep red. "You can't be serious."
"After last week," I said, "how can you doubt it?"
"But I still can't sit down without squirming," she whined.
"Well, if you don't think you can handle it yet," I said, "go
home, and I won't cane you until next time." I knew I was taking a risk,
but there could be no compromise at this point. Last week we had reached a
new plateau; I would rather give Darla up, than slide back into that
vanilla relationship.
Even so, I was so relieved when she gave a barely perceptable nod,
that I kissed her deeply, searching the warmth and sweetness of her mouth
with my tongue. With a moan, she responded and rubbed her mound against my
erection. Several long minutes went by before I got my mind back on business.
"We're going to play a little game," I said.
Suddenly, Darla looked nervous again. "What sort of game?"
"You've already earned ten strokes from the cane." Again, she
nodded, agreeing not only to my right to discipline her, but agreeing to my
right to set the limits as well. "And you must be naked not just for
punishment, but for the entire time you are in my apartment." Again, Darla
nodded, as I recapped the obvious. "I am going to give you exactly thirty
seconds to strip off all your clothes. If at the end of that time, you
are still not completely naked, I will give you an additional stroke of the
cane for every second you still wear any item of clothing." Before she
could protest, I stared at my watch and said, "Go!"
Frantically, Darla's long, polished nails fumbled with buttons, and
her blouse fell open by rapid stages as I watched the sweep second hand of
my watch. As her blouse hit the floor, I said, "Ten seconds."
Her bra was next, as she unsnapped the front clasp and her luscious
breasts popped free - the nipples quickly hardening in the cool air. Her
skirt slid down her sleek hips as I said, "Twenty seconds."
Quickly, Darla slid her pantyhose and underwear down to her knees,
exposing the dark fur of her pubic area. Then she plopped onto her butt,
her breasts bobbing with the soft impact. As she shoved her undergarments
down over her shoes, they got caught on her heels. Wimpering, Darla gave a
strong yank, ripping her hose in the heat of the moment.
"Thirty seconds," I said.
"Oh, God," she moaned. By the time her shoes were off and her toes
were worming into my plush carpet, another six seconds had passed.
"Thirty six seconds total," I said. "Not bad, not bad at all." Giving me
a weak smile, Darla lifted her hands as if to cover her naked body, but at
my warning look her arms dropped to her sides.
"But you were six seconds over the time limit. How many extra
strokes did I promise?"
She whispered something, but I could not make it out.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
Darla took a deep breath, then said, "Six, Master."
I smiled. "That's exactly right. And if we add that to the
original ten strokes?"
She mumbled.
"I didn't hear you."
"Sixteen, Master," but then her composure broke and she looked as
if she wanted to cry. "But God, Charles, I don't think I can take ..."
At my harsh look, Darla suddenly fell silent, and bowed her head.
"As you wish, Master." I had never ordered her to call me Master, but I
kind of liked the sound of it. It made me think she would submit to
anything I wanted; and as I've mentioned before, I wanted a lot.
I positioned Darla so that her shins pressed against the front edge
of my leather sofa cushions, then I had her bend over and grip the top of
the back rest. "Arch your back," I said. Darla flexed her back, which
made her tight cheeks stretch in an inviting target. I could see faint
purple traces from last week's punishment, but for the most part her bottom
had healed quite nicely.
"Spread your legs," I said. Darla inched her feet apart which
widened the gap
between her thighs and I could see her hair-covered labia. "Farther," I
said. A few more inches and her butt cheeks parted so that her pink,
wrinkled anus winked at me, one of my favorite sites. "Just a little
more." Now her legs strained at full extension, her nether lips parted
with a glisten of moisture, and her dark fur became damp with her own
juices. Darla was getting turned-on like last time. I loved it.
Darla flinched as I touched the cane against the middle of both
buttocks. "Hold still," I said. "I haven't even started yet."
Visibly steeling herself, Darla gripped the sofa cushion tighter. I
took a couple of practice swings, letting the thin cane whistle through the
air to build up the suspense. She started whimpering before I even hit
her; finally, I gave Darla the first stroke: SWISH, CRACK. The cane
creased her flesh, then bounced free, leaving a thin, white line. Darla
groaned but didn't break position. The white line altered to a glowing red
across both cheeks, right across the middle.
"Did that hurt?" I asked.
"Not too bad," she whispered.
I didn't know if she was just being brave or if I wasn't doing a
good job. Again, the cane cracked across her bottom, harder this time,
digging in deeper and leaving a livid stripe slightly below the first one.
Darla sucked in her breath, and she wiggled her hips, but still maintained
her bent position over the sofa. "How many is that?" I asked.
"Two," she mumbled.
"From now on, count them," I said. "If you miscount, you get
extra." I gave her three more cuts in rapid succession, and she danced
from foot to foot, shouting out the numbers. "Three, four, five!"
"Hold still," I said. Then I cracked her across her upper thighs.
That brought her up on her toes and she threw back her head. "Six!"
she screamed.
By this time I had a raging erection, so I ran my hand over the hot
welts on her cheeks. She flinched at my touch, but didn't pull away.
"Good, girl," I said. She whimpered, but held her position, as I stepped
back and gave her the hardest cut yet.
"Seven!" she gasped, and started crying. Then I gave her two more
quick cuts, the last one right across the sensitive crease where buttock
meets thigh. Finally, that was too much for her. She hopped away from the
sofa rubbing her flaming butt. "God, Charles, that hurts so much!" Tears
flowed down her red face.
"It's supposed to hurt," I said patiently. How many times did I
have to remind her? "That's what punishment is all about." She marched in
place with a pouting look on her flushed face, all the while rubbing her
wounds. "Bend over for the rest of your punishment."
With obvious effort she resumed her position, sticking her streaked
bottom in my face What a lovely sight. I couldn't resist running my hand
behind her thighs, which were soaking wet with her desire. I pinched one
of her welts and she squealed.
"How many to go?" I asked.
She hesitated, and I was sure I had her. But then Darla
disappointed me, by whining, "Seven to go, Master." Still no extras.
Bummer. Moisture seeped from her furry slit, and flowed down her inner
thighs.
She moaned as I slipped two fingers into her slippery vagina.
Slowly, I pumped in and out and she rocked her thighs. When my fingers
were good and gooey, I pressed one against the tight ring of her anus.
Darla flinched, but didn't pull away. This was an interesting response; in
the past she had always gotten huffy when I touched her there. Exerting
pressure, I allowed my finger to sink into her tight hole. She gasped as
she felt me entering her, but Darla held her position and held her tongue.
Deeper I penetrated, until my entire finger disappeared up her asshole.
Meanwhile, I was still pumping her vagina with my other finger, double
penetrating her two most intimate orifices.
Finally, the drooling monster that hid behind my zipper could take no
more. As I dropped my pants, the steel snake lunged for her dripping hole,
plunging all the way, until my hairy pubes banged against the welts
streaking her bottom. She moaned, but I couldn't tell if it was from
pain or pleasure, nor at that moment did I particularly care. While my
penis pumped her vagina, two slippery fingers rammed in and out of her ass.
On the verge of cumming, I withdrew from her slit and pressed the
mushroom head directly against her anus. At first she held her position,
but as the pressure became more insistent, she began bucking as if to
dislodge me. But I held firm, and felt her tight ring expand to accept me.
"No!" she shouted, and fell forward causing my cock to pop free of her
dark hole. "No!" she said again.
I was furious. Grabbing the cane, I said, "Resume position." She
hesitated. "Now!" Then she quickly leaned over the couch, sticking her
butt in the air. Without any preliminaries, I slammed the cane against
her bottom in rapid succession. She shouted out the numbers as each brand
of fire burned across her ass. When she reached sixteen, she probably
expected me to stop, but I continued to lash her ribboned cheeks with
fierce blows, heedless of her pleas and screams. "Please, Charles, it
hurts so much!"
But I wouldn't stop. "Keep counting," I demanded, as she neared
twenty strokes of the cane. "Twenty!" she shouted out, then she spun and
dropped to her knees before me. Her mouth engulfed my cock, swallowing it
all the way to the back of her throat and beyond. Head bobbing on my
shaft, Darla hungrily devoured me. She didn't have to work very hard.
Just a few deep strokes, and I was erupting down her throat. She choked,
then swallowed rapidly, drinking all I had to offer. Finally, I was spent,
and we collapsed on the carpet together.
When I caught my breath, Darla and I both noticed at the same time
that I was still hard. She pulled me inside, and I plunged into her sweet,
flowing depths. She moaned with pleasure, then rapidly succumbed to the
demands of her body, as I once again spurted into her tight orifice.
Laying spent in my arms, Darla whispered, "Oh Charles, that was
wonderful." And I had to agree, but at the same time I was still annoyed
that she had denied me access to the last frontier of her body. Another
time, I promised myself, knowing that I was too spent to pursue the matter
on this particular night.
Another time.
As she played with my dead dick, I said, "Now for a few more rules."
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