textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/submbeth.txt

This is the first chapter of a story, completely fictional, which contains 
explicit sexual acts of pain and submission.  If this sort of thing offends you, 
please delete the file immediately.  I have tried to capture the moments shared 
by this couple in a meaningful way.  This is their life-style, like it or not.  
Your comments, good or bad, about the content, style, etc would be appreciated.
I know there are lots of Davids and Beths out there, and while these two are
only figments of my imagination, Beth is my idea of the perfect woman, though
many, I am sure, will find the story to be absolutely sexist.  Please address
your comments to me on this board as MJ01, MJ02, etc.  If you have ideas for
Chapter 2, let me know.  Thanks, hope you enjoy.

											Master J.



















                    Beth's Introduction to Submissiveness

							  By Master J.

     We had spent the weekend in a sexual shoot-out with Bill and Joan,
and I discovered much about this woman I was only on the verge of
learning about.  During the first hour of our drive back to Jersey, Beth
was silent, almost morose.  I decided to let her stay in whatever mood
she was in and let her get out of it herself.  She apparently had a lot
to think about.  She wore the same blue denim skirt she had worn much of
the weekend, sans stockings, a dark blue sweater, and sneakers without
socks.  She shed the sneakers during the early part of the trip, threw
them in the back seat, curled her feet under her buttocks, and put on
the same, sullen look she had started out with.  I could sense that her
mind was working intensely.
     Finally, after almost an hour, she spoke.  "David, can I ask you a
question?"
     "Of course."
     "Why did I like what happened to me with you and Bill and Joan this
weekend?"
     "Did you really like it, or are you saying that because you feel
guilty about what
you did?"
     She turned pensive for a moment.  "No, I really did get into it,
David.  It's like nothing I would have ever imagined.  Especially of
myself.  It's like a light bulb went off in my head and, bang, I'm a
different person.  How do you explain wanting to be dominated like I was
back there.  I was really into it.  And when I came," she continued
with a deep red blush, "it was like an explosion.  I was turned on so
completely by the experience it's unbelievable."
     "I guess there has always been a part of me that wanted to dominate
someone, to control them completely.  So it was a turn-on for me, as
well," I said.
     Beth smiled.  "Great minds think alike," she laughed.
     "Do you think we both changed this weekend?"
     Her mind searched for an answer to my question.  "Yes, David, I do.
Can you live with the woman you created?"
     It was my turn to smile.  "I can't live without her."
     The rest of the trip was spent in small talk.  A few times, she let
her skirt ride pretty well up her fleshy thighs, but being shy about a
trucker looking into the car, she quickly rearranged it, offering me
only maddeningly quick but delightfully sexy "beaver shots" of her
panty-clad crotch, being sure to look at my eyes whenever she did to
insure that her little "accidents" did not go unnoticed.  We arrived at
my condo around 7:00 p.m. and carried the bags in.  When I carried the
last bag through the door, I tossed it to the floor.  I felt tired, but
not exhausted.  Beth was in the kitchen, fetching lemonades for us.  I
moved to the living and sat down on my reclining chair.  She came into
the room carrying the drinks, smiling sweetly, and handed me one.  She
turned her back and prepared to sit on the sofa.
     "Where do you think you're going?" I asked.
     "Just to sit down," she said, a quizzical look on her face.
     "Put the drink down and turn around," I said in a firm tone of
voice.
     She looked at me again, with that knowing look and sexy smile on
her face.  She placed the drink on the coffee table and turned to face
me.  Her mouth was opened slightly.  Her hair was slightly disheveled
from the windy ride in my car.  The dark blue sweater was much too loose
to do anything for her breasts.  Her legs were pale, almost white, but
pleasantly slender and graceful.  She carried herself well for "older"
woman of 28.
     I looked straight into her eyes and said, "Take off your sweater,"
in a soft but commanding voice.
     She looked back at me for a quick moment, somewhat startled,
searching my eyes for the sincerity of my command.  When she realized I
was perfectly serious, her
visage changed completely.  She seemed to turn from a friendly, happy-
go-lucky young
woman into one who wants nothing more than to be dominated completely by
her master.
     "You mean, here, in front of you, just like that?"  Her questioning
voice belied her deepest desires to do as I had commanded, to do anything that I
commanded.
     "Just like that...." I replied softly, gesturing with an upturned
palm in the direction
of the bulky sweater.
     She shrugged her shoulders, as if my request was no big deal,
grasped the
bottom of the sweater, and drew it up, over her head, catching it
slightly in her hair before tossing it nonchalantly on a vacant chair.
Her white cotton bra was too plain for my tastes, though the tenseness
of her nipples was already apparent through the thin gauze.  Later, we
would go shopping and I would buy her the sexiest underthings I could
find.  Once done, she looked at me, not straight on, but sort of out of
the corner of her eye with her head slightly cocked.
     "I'll hold your bra for you," I said matter-of-factly.
     She blinked her eyes once, then, still eyeing me from the side,
reached behind her back and unclasped her bra.  She made no attempt to
cover herself up as her girlish breasts sprung free from their
confinement and the bra straps glided silently down her arms.  She took
two steps forward and, bending slightly at the waist, handed me the
cotton garment, her face blushing just slightly.  I took the bra from
her with my left hand while I grasped her wrist with my right hand,
preventing her from straightening up.
     "There is nothing that you won't do for me--nothing at all," I
said, gripping her wrist tightly, looking straight into her soft, brown,
delightfully expressive eyes.
     Her eyes searched mine for a brief moment.  "I know," she
whispered, ending her words with her mouth open in an inviting 'O'.
     She was mine so completely it almost unnerved me.  "Go to the
corner of the room and raise your skirt up to your waist," I commanded,
letting go of her wrist.  She strolled, half-naked, to the corner I had
pointed to and did as I had told her, gathering the blue denim in her
hands and exposing the silky-white panties I had asked her to wear that
morning.  I let her stay like that, facing the corner, for a good five
minutes while I studied the smooth curves of her ass, the tightly
clinging undies, and long, sleek, creamy-smooth whiteness of her subtly
parted legs.  Without my telling her, she seemed to understand that she
must remain thus, without speaking, without a word of protest, until I
deemed it differently.  To imbed this unspoken requirement in her mind,
I moved about the room as if she weren't there, leaving her standing
there like a little school girl being punished.
     Finally, I moved behind her, close enough to kiss her soft, brown
hair, but didn't touch her.  "Have you been a bad little girl?" I
whispered into her ear.
     "Yes," she whimpered.
     "What have you done, Beth?"
     "I let Bill take me," she replied with an obvious shiver from head
to toe.
     "You let him put his cock in something that was rightfully mine,
didn't you?"
     "Yes," she said, half-sobbing.
     "Would you have let him shove his cock in your ass if he had asked
you to?"
     "Please... don't make me answer."
     "Would you have sucked his cock?" I persisted.
     "Please, David.... I...."
     Wanting to hurt her just enough to make my point, I reached around
and grasped her left breast with one hand, flattening it against her
chest as she gasped out loud.  I then located the turgid nipple with my
thumb and index finger, squeezed the protuberance until Beth cried in
pain, then pulled it outward from her breast, stretching it to its limit
as she cocked her head back into the cradle of my neck and moaned in
agony and pleasure.
     "Bad girls must be punished!" I exclaimed, still holding the nipple
tightly, while I palmed her panty-clad ass with my free hand as she
continued to hold her skirt up all the way to her waist.
     I ran my hand all over the back of her silky-white undies,
squeezing the firm fleshiness beneath.  Her buns were warm and tight and
felt glorious to the touch.  She gasped when I shoved my hand inside the
garment and grabbed a solid hunk of her behind.  She pressed her ass
back toward me, saying, without words, how much she desired to be
punished for her transgressions of the weekend.
     I released her nipple from its confinement, letting it snap back
into place, withdrew my hand from inside her panties, then knelt behind
her, my face only inches from her delectable buns.  I planted a kiss on
each sweet cheek, over the soft panty-tops, then eased my fingers into
the elastic top of the undies and slowly drew them down, exposing the
perfectly divided split pumpkin, creamy smooth in texture and alabaster-
white in appearance, full and rounded, seeming to be begging for release
by whip or strap.  Her flimsy panties remained encircled around her
thighs as I returned to her luscious cheeks, this time with two hands,
and kneaded the soon to be defiled flesh with my fingertips.
     Beth's moans conceded her state of arousal.  She was putty in my
hands now, and I shaped the halves of the twin spheres to my liking,
pushing the flesh outward, upward, side to side, prying the cheeks apart
from time to time to expose the pink rosebud, so tiny and hidden that I
remained awed by my earlier penetration of it.  I took my time and
examined every inch of the fleshy globes, studied the anal button until
its vision became locked in my mind.  The buttocks were still flecked
slightly with the results of Bill's earlier whipping.
     As I stared at her behind, I said "Your ass was made to be whipped!
It's perfect, you know.  I think I am going to finish what Bill started.
Would you like that, Beth?"
     "YES!" she blurted, pushing the buns back toward me in an open
invitation to have at them.  "Oh, David, I need to be whipped!!!  I need
it so bad!  I've been such a bad girl."
     "Don't move--I'll be right back."
     In the dim light of the early evening I went into the woods behind
my condo and found what I believed to be the perfect pacifier--a long,
thin freshly cut birch rod, about three feet long and a quarter-inch
thick.  I wanted something that would sting like the devil and remain
etched in her memory from this time forward.  I didn't intend to cut or
mark her in any way, but I knew I could wield the birch in such a manner
as to make her remember this evening forever.  "Thin is cruel," I had
once read in a book about flagellation, "but only if it is done with
malice."
     Returning to the condo, I found Beth exactly where I had left her,
standing in the corner, skirt raised to her waist, panties lowered to
her thighs, completely naked from the waist up.  She was smart enough
not to turn her head and look at me.  Later, when our relationship
deepened, I would learn to soak the birch rods in oil before using them
on her, intensifying their sting tenfold.  Tonight, I would lead her
slowly down paths she had never dreamed of.
     "I want all of your clothes off.  When I whip you from now on you
will always be naked.  Do you understand?"
     "Yes, master."
     It sounded odd to hear her call me "Master," but that's exactly
what I was--her MASTER.  She was my little slave!  I have never asked
her where she picked up the term.  I surmise in a book somewhere and it
stuck with her.  It didn't matter, I watched her stand in the corner,
shed her skirt, lower her panties the rest of the way down her legs,
and dutifully clasp her hands behind her back.  Having finished, she put
her cute pug nose back into the corner and waited for my next move.
     "Open your legs more!" I ordered.  "It's more becoming of your
nudity."
     The parted legs revealed the brown curls of her bush near the top
of her legs, just below the crack of her ass.  She looked so vulnerable,
so sexy!  I made her stay like that for the better part of half an hour
while I did nothing but stare at her fragility from the serenity of my
easy chair.  She seemed almost too fragile to apply the cruel birch rod
to.
     Finally, it was she who broke the icy silence.  "David, are you
going to whip me?" she asked, her tone revealing a little impatience
with me.
     "In time," I said softly, moving closer to her and running the
lower half of the birch rod between the supple cheeks of her ass,
splitting the halves of the pumpkin with it.
     "Oh!" she cried softly, startled by the thinness of the wood.
     "Shhh, it's a birch rod," I whispered in her ear.  "Are you sure
you want to be whipped?"
     "It will hurt?" she asked.
     "More than what Bill did," I replied in all honesty.
     "You will stop if I ask?"
     "You know I will.  But I don't think you'll ask."  I continued
running the birch rod up and down, inside the dividing crevice of her
ass cheeks.
     She pressed her behind into the rod, invitingly.  "I think you're
right, David.  I really want to be whipped.  I can't explain it.
There's something inside me..."
     "We shall see," I interrupted.  "Open your mouth."
     "Why?"
     I touched the top of her shoulder with my fingertips and whispered
into her ear.  "I am going to have to gag you for this.  I don't want
the neighbors calling the cops."
     "How do I tell you to stop if it hurts too much?"
     "Just shake your head back and forth.  I'll stop.  Do you trust
me?"
     She turned her head back in my direction, looked at me for a
moment, and then, instead of answering, she merely closed her eyes and
opened her mouth to accept the gag.  I had nothing to use save the
panties she had just shed, but they served the purpose well.  I stuffed
them well into her mouth, crotch first, so she might taste her own
juices on the silky material.  I then brought her to the edge of the
sofa, her hands still clasped behind her back, and had her place her
tummy over it.  The position offered her ass to me in all its glory.
     Beth was a true submissive, every man's dream.  She had complete
trust in me and I knew I could never leave her permanently marked or
scarred.  I was capable of playing mind-games with her, but her body,
outwardly, would remain inviolate.  It was too beautiful to mark--her
firm, full buttocks were twin spheres of gorgeous, alabaster flesh,
perfectly rounded in just the right places, a pleasure to touch or view.
Her breasts were not large by any means, but they were capped by coral-
colored, thick, pointed nipples that extended outward in their hardened
state and were, I would find out soon enough, wonderfully sensitive to
pain stimuli, so much so, in fact, that she would often place nipple-
clips on them before one of our "sessions" in order to enhance their
sensitivity.
     I drew the birch rod over Beth's proffered buns and ran it back and
forth, like a violin bow, for several moments, toying with her nerve
endings and building her anticipation of what was about to happen.  Her
forehead was buried in the sofa cushion, with the silky-white panties
sticking out of the corners of her mouth.  I lifted the rod several
inches away from the globes and held it there, watching Beth clench her
ass cheeks in anticipation of my first lash.  Instead, I laid the rod
back across her behind and, as I pressed it slightly into the pale skin,
began moving it slowly in a path from the top of her ass to the middle
of her thighs, teasing the nerve endings while delegating without words
the boundaries the rod might enjoy.
     "Open your legs more!" I ordered, then watched her labia part
stickily between them.  Her delicately hued, pink-colored vaginal
entrance was filled with transparent juices, with a few of the hairs
that had been surrounding the opening sporting tiny gobs of off-white
"cum-drops".  Her toes barely touched the carpet.  Her legs were sleek
and well-proportioned.  Her back was already warm with a thin veneer of
glistening perspiration.  Her breathing was slightly tremulous, a sign
of her anticipation.
     I merely flicked my wrist for the first stroke which landed right
in the middle of her buttocks with a louder-than-it-hurt crack of the
thin wood against the supple flesh, rippling the skin only slightly and
bringing but a quietly muffled "MMMFFFFF" from behind Beth's
panty-gag.  A thin, slightly pink line appeared almost immediately where
the bow had stuck the violin.  Her toes were curled now as they pressed
harder into the carpet.
	Buoyed by Beth's stoic acceptance of her first taste of the rod, I
reached back and flicked the pain-giver three times in rapid succession, 
each of them with the same intensity, but all of them just a bit harder 
than the first.  I was careful to apply each stroke one below the other.  
Having offered the last little cut, I stopped to take in Beth's
reaction.  This time she made absolutely no sound, to my surprise, but
with each lovely ripple of her ass cheeks she drove her curled toes into
the carpet in quick, staccato movements, her little way of trying to
fend off the increasing pain in her snow-capped buttocks.
     I ran my fingertips over the light-colored stripes that I had just
placed on her voluptuous backside.  Her skin was warm to the touch; she
shivered slightly at the tinge of gentleness.  "Oh how your ass was made
to be whipped!" I exclaimed as I traced one thin line from side to side
with my index finger.
     Her breathing was becoming a bit more labored now, with pronounced
exhalations through her chest and nostrils.  I pried the lower half of
the cheeks apart, exposing the anal ring, and touched the crinkled
opening lightly with the tip of the birch rod.  "MMM.....MMM!" whimpered
Beth behind the gag, afraid that I might penetrate the tiny orifice with
the thin wood.  Instead, I let the cheeks bounce back to normalcy, as I
withdrew the rod from the doorway, making a mental note that I would
once again test the unbelievable resiliency of the opening with my cock
later in the evening.
     With my left palm resting right at the crest of her buttocks, just
over the top of the crack of her ass, I drove the birch rod across the
tender flesh with a loud crack, followed immediately by an agonizing,
softly muffled shriek from deep within Beth's throat.  At the
same time, she raised both feet off the floor and flailed them in the
air for several seconds.  It was obvious that this stroke had been a
real "stinger."
     When she shook her head from side to side, in consonance with her
toes, I thought she was telling me to stop.  "Too hard?" I asked as I
reached back and pulled the panties out of her mouth so I could hear her
reply.
     "NO!" she blurted as she panted loudly.  "Oh, it hurts, it hurts,
it hurts!" she cried, still flailing her legs.  "But please don't stop.
I can feel it building deep inside me, David." She breathed heavily.
     I sought to return the panties to her mouth.  "No, please," she
begged, "I want you to hear me after you whip me.  Can you do it a bit
harder?"
     "Suit yourself.  Just remember the neighbors."  I reached further
back this time, goaded by her desire to feel even more pain, and drove
the birch rod smartly into the area where her lower ass cheeks met the
top of her thighs, an area I knew to be more sensitive to pain stimuli.
I was right.  She let out a long, agonizing howl, fortunately into
the sofa cushion, and flailed her legs again, her heels actually kicking
her own buttocks
in the process.
     Beth's scream lasted a good ten seconds, punctuated by gasps for
breath, followed (incredibly!) by, "Oh, YES!  That's good.  It hurts so good!
Give me more, Master!"
     The thin, red streak that covered each side of her lower buttocks
looked as
painful as it must have felt.  It welted almost immediately, testifying
to the intensity of
the stroke.  How could she want more?  Where was her limit?  Was there a
limit?  If there was, I needed to test it, and she was begging me to do
so.  So, without warning, I gave her four well-aimed lashes, all of them
bitingly harsh, in quick succession, without pausing, each being
delivered to a different area of her upturned ass.  To my amazement, she
made absolutely no sound until the last stroke was delivered, with an
extra fierceness.  To the contrary, with each lash she seemed to raise
her behind higher in an effort to accept the searing pain.  With the
final lash, she let out with a long "AHHHHHHHH!" that I knew at once was
a mixture of pain and pleasure.
     Her orgasm was unmistakable.  Her entire body spasmed, her wide-
spread legs quivered uncontrollably, and her hips undulated up and down
on top of the soft arm of the sofa as wave after wave of agony and joy
coursed through her ravaged body.
     It took her the best part of ten minutes to come down from her
pain-induced high.  She remained almost motionless throughout the
orgasm, save for an occasional "twitch" of her thighs or abdomen as the
after-shocks diminished in intensity.  The sofa would remain stained
forever with her copiously flowing cuntal juices, and there would be
times later when I would have her return to this position and make her
add more of her excretions to the stain.  Neither of us ever mentioned
the obvious damage to the sofa, but I didn't mind, and just the sight of
it would conjure up such sweet memories that I accepted it as a hazard
of our life style.
     I sat on the sofa, next to her, as she slowly returned to normalcy.
She looked up at me, smiled coyly, then slithered her nakedness into my
arms, nestling her head in the crook of my neck.  I kissed the hair atop
her head as she curled into a fetal-like position, my hand resting
lazily on her hip.  "Well, what do you think?" I whispered.
     "Wow!" she exclaimed.  "That was the most intense orgasm I've ever
had.  I thought it would never stop.  My buns are still tingling.  Do
you have any idea how much that damn birch rod hurts, Mr. Henderson?"
     "I can only imagine.  But why did you keep asking me to do it
harder if it hurt so much."
     She brought her hand to my cheek, lovingly caressing it with her
fingertips.  "Because it hurt so good," she replied.  "Such pleasure in
pain, it's unbelievable, David."
     I ran my hand from hip to her back, which still glistened from her
perspiration, and scratched it gently.  She purred like a kitten with
each soft touch.  "The strange thing is that I enjoyed doing it to you
as much as you liked having it done."
     "But you didn't come, and I did."
     "I'm saving it," I whispered with a broad smile she couldn't see,
but felt.  Boldly, she ran her hand between our clasped bodies and found
the semi-erect tool well ensconced in my pants.  She squeezed it
playfully.  "I want it so bad, David."  Her words were enough to make
the organ stir.  "Can I suck it--please?" she begged.
     Who was I to say "no" to having my cock sucked?  I didn't have to
reply.  She lifted herself off of me far enough to get at the belt of my
pants, then deftly undid it (with one hand, no less) and drew the zipper
down.  I lifted my hips from the sofa and allowed her to pull the pants
all the way off, then followed by my underpants.  My cock, now growing,
sprang free.  I watched the top of Beth's head slide down my body until
it came to rest upon my thighs, where she had a bird's eye view of my
almost tumescent member.
     "I like it when it gets hard in my mouth," she whispered softly as
she grasped the shaft and drew it to the "O" of her parted lips.  I
closed my eyes as she blithely took me in her mouth, coating me with
copious amounts of her saliva and licking the glans before beginning a
gentle sucking action that drew her cheeks inward.  Almost instantly I
became rock hard as she moved her head and back and forth, taking me
deeper inside her warmth until I felt the cockhead ram the back of her
throat.  She breathed through her nostrils, took a gulp, then took me in
all the way, deep-throating me as her lips chewed at the base of my
shaft, mingling with my pubic hair.
     "Mmm, I like that," I said huskily.
     Beth garbled something unintelligible over my well-sheathed member,
then sucked me some more.  She brought her fingernails into play soon
thereafter, lightly scraping my testicles with one purpose in mind--to
give me the feeling that her only desire was to make me come inside her
mouth.  I knew she would never take her lips from my cock until I had
spilled my seed deep into her throat.  I began bucking my hips in tune
with her rising and falling head, which she shook from side to side
every once in a while just to alter the exquisite feelings she was
providing.  I held my hand on top of head, though it needed no guidance,
and opened my eyes to watch my sword move back and forth between her
rose-petal soft lips.
     I felt the first wave of my orgasm at the base of my cock, pushed
her head all the way down on me, then let my seed blast forth like
cannon fodder, emptying myself in her throat.  She swallowed every drop,
gulping down the cascading sperm like candy, never lifting her head
until she was sure I had no more to give her.  Then, and only then, did
she take her lips away, looking up at me with her puppy-dog eyes,
smiling sheepishly, like the fox who had just stole the hen house.
     She licked her lips, as if searching for more jism.  "Feel better?"
she smiled.
     "You're insatiable," I said.  "Is there anything you won't do for
this tired old man?"
     Beth laughed.  "Yes.  I won't let you get away.  I could never get
tired of sucking your cock, or letting you fuck me, or having you whip
me.  Whatever you want, David, it's yours for the taking.  You don't
even have to ask."
     She moved up my body and curled up again, her ribs resting on my
genital area.  I cupped her breast, gently, and we slept like that till
morning.  When I awoke the first light of day had already broken through
the venetian blinds, filtering its shadows on the carpet in front of me.
Beth was nowhere to be seen.  I listened, then heard the sound of
running water in the kitchen.  I stood up, suddenly aware that I was
naked save for my shirt, and strolled toward the area of the noise.
     Beth was standing in front of the sink, already having donned one
of my tee-shirts which failed to completely cover her naked posterior.
The thin crack of her ass looked inviting and sexy below the bottom of
the shirt.  She turned, sensing my presence.  The scene was almost
comic--she immediately caught sight of my flaccid cock and I stared
straight at the light-brown hairs which adorned her lower abdomen.
She shrieked, as if scared, and reflexively pulled the bottom of the
tee-shirt over the pussy hairs, an act which only served to stretch the
top of the shirt over her breasts, highlighting her seemingly always
erect nipples.
     Her face was flushed.  "Oh, you scared me!" she said breathlessly,
still staring unabashedly at my hanging cock and balls.  In the same
reflexive gesture, I covered myself up with my hand, though for the life
of me, I don't know why.  What did I have to hide from her, she had only
a few hours ago sucked the damn thing dry?
     "What are you doing, babes?"
     "I was just making some coffee," she said, obviously recovering
from her sudden scare.  "Do you always walk around the house half-
naked?"
     I smiled.  "Only when someone else is similarly situated."
     She looked down at the tee-shirt and realized the absurdity of her
remark.  "Oh, David, get your ass over here."
     I walked to her and she casually threw her arms around me.  We
embraced, our bodies slowly moving closer and closer together.  Her
nipples felt like hard pebbles against my chest.  My cock, still
unstirring, pressed against her upper thigh; her pubic hairs, soft and
warm, nestled against my thigh.  My arms went under the back of the tee-
shirt.  We kissed, briefly at first, before she politely broke the kiss,
and said, with a perfectly serious look on her face, "Mmm, I didn't
recognize you at first without a hard-on."
     I laughed.  "It's at parade rest."
     "Ready to be called to attention at a moment's notice, I presume,"
she smiled, pressing her thigh suggestively into the softness of my
manhood.
     "We haven't even had a cup of coffee and you're trying to get me
going again," I protested, but only half-heartedly.
     She giggled.  "So you need a cup of coffee to get you going, huh?"
     "I just have to look at your sexy little body and I'm half-way
there," I whispered, bring my face toward hers with lips at the ready.
She accepted the offer, kissing me with more passion this time, grinding
her lips slowly against mine and insinuating her tongue into the
juncture to punctuate her ardor.  My cock stirred immediately against
her leg and she smiled through the kiss as soon as she felt its growing
hardness.  I jammed my tongue into her mouth and her fingernails raked
across my back, digging deeply into the skin.
     This time I broke the kiss.  "Horny little thing, aren't you?" I
smiled.  Her face spoke of her lust.  She swallowed some of the juices I
had deposited in her mouth.  I reached for the bottom of the tee-shirt
and whisked it over it head in one smooth motion.  In that one, quick
instant she was naked as a jaybird, slightly red-faced, mouth agape,
staring into my eyes with a fiery passion.  She reached down between us
and grasped my now fully erect manhood.
     "I dreamed of this big monster last night," she husked, slowly
moving her hand up and down the shaft, milking it.
     "A nightmare, huh?"
     She took a deep breath.  "Oh, David, even in my dreams you fucked
the hell out of me!  I can't get away from you."  Quickly, she undid my
shirt buttons, her hands shaking slightly, before pulling it off.  The
both of us stood naked, in the middle of my kitchen, looking at each
other's bodies for what seemed like a long time before we embraced
again.  I was not embarrassed at all by my telltale erection.
     "Now I'm ready for my coffee," I said, holding onto Beth tightly
without kissing her.
     "Excuse me?"
     "I always have a cup of coffee in the morning before engaging in
sexual pursuits," I said with a broad smile.
     "Your serious?" she asked, feeling my stiff manhood pressing
against the sweet softness of her abdomen, her pubic hairs now mingling
with my testicles.
     "Would you mind?  It will really wake me up."
     She pouted.  "You do mean it, you monster.  You're ready and I'm
ready," she said, punctuating her remark by pressing her abdomen firmly
against my hardness, "and you want a damn cup of coffee!"
     She really did seem upset, but she had to learn that it was I who
was in complete control of the situation--at all times.  Yes, she had
her needs, and I would fulfill them better than they had even been
fulfilled, but it would be on my terms, in my way.  I broke the embrace,
strolled to the table, and sat down, my skyward-pointing cockhead
brushing against the table cloth.  Beth looked at, almost dumbfounded, a
rather exasperated look on her flushed face.
     "With cream and sugar," I said with wry half-smile.
     She looked so damn sexy in her nakedness, her skin white and
smooth, her girlish but firm breasts capped by her ever-hard thick, oh-
so-suckable nipples; her curly-haired bush, neatly cropped, elegantly
adorning her lower abdomen; her sleek, supple legs slightly parted; her
hands at her sides, twidgeting nervously.  She stared at me for a
moment, her child-like, dark-brown, puppy-dog eyes, her most expressive
feature, showing a mixture of anger, which she was trying hard to keep
repressed, and innate submissiveness, which was written all over her
face.
     Without a word, she turned and continued filling the coffee pot, a
job she had only begun before I interrupted her.  There was a thin
veneer of perspiration just above her delectable buttocks, on her lower
back.  For the next ten minutes, I watched her move about the kitchen,
naked and lovely, acting just a little huffy, not trying to hide the
fact that she felt miffed about being rebuffed.  When she placed the cup
of coffee on the table in front of me, she refused to look at me.  This
wasn't the sort of submissiveness I expected of her.
     "Beth, go to the living room and bring me back the leather belt
from my pants."
     From the tone of my voice and the nature of my instructions, my
intentions were obvious. She cast an at once understanding glance in my
direction, then turned on her heels and disappeared out the door, her
ass cheeks bobbing slightly as she walked.  When she returned, nervously
holding the belt, folded, in her hands, her visage was entirely
different.  Gone from her eyes and face was that look of defiance.  It
was replaced by that now familiar aspect of total submission.  Her face
was completely flushed as she demurely handed me the device she already
knew to have a special, intended purpose.  I nonchalantly took my fourth
sip of my morning coffee, so thoughtfully prepared by this stark-naked,
beautiful woman who, in one wild weekend, had discovered her being while
showing me mine.
     I placed the belt on the table, where she could see it, and took
another sip of coffee.  I placed the cup in the saucer, then looked at
Beth.  "In this house, I am in charge."  My voice was firm.  She sensed
the seriousness of the situation.  No, this wasn't a game, this was our
reality.
     Nervously, she bit her lower lip.  "Yes," she said softly, lowering
her head and closing her eyes.
     "Sexual pleasures, when I permit you to have them, will be at my
whim, on my terms, when you are deserving, and only then.  Do you
understand?"
     She gulped, then nodded softly in affirmation.  Her hands were back
at her side, twidgeting once more.
     "Turn around," I ordered.
     Casting a furtive but telling glance in my direction, she quickly
spun on her heels turned her back to me.  I wanted to bend over and kiss
her gorgeous ass cheeks, so round and smooth and perfect, but she had to
be punished.  The defiance that she had exhibited had to be taken from
her from this point forward.
     "Bend over and grasp your ankles with hands," I commanded, then
watched her perform the act which forced her to spread her feet well
apart in order to maintain balance.  Not only was her behind presented
perfectly by her awkward position, the entire length of her hairy
crotch, the labia parted like rose petals to show her pink gash, was on
display in all its glory.  To cap it off, her tiny, pinkish-brown,
crinkled anus was well exposed between her opened ass cheeks.  The sight
kept my erection at its fullest.
     I made her stay like that, the blood rushing to her lowered head,
while I blithely finished my cup of coffee, then turned in my seat until
I was directly behind her, my cockhead pointing upward about three feet
behind her widely spread legs.  I could have taken her then and there,
anally or vaginally, and my statement would have been made, but I knew
the lesson would only be learned, the correction properly made, by the
application of corporal punishment, which she truly desired at this
moment even more than penetration of one of her body openings.
     The pungent, thick womanly smell emanating from between her legs,
and the tell-tale moistness surrounding her vaginal entrance was ample
evidence that just the anticipation of punishment was enough to get her
going.  I slid the chair forward slightly, scraping it on the linoleum
floor, to gain a more advantageous position over my submissive lover,
and her body shuddered slightly with the knowledge that the time of
reckoning was near.
     I doubled the inch-wide belt in my hand, its metal clasp digging
into my palm, and said "Don't move.  Hold your ankles tight," before
raising the instrument of punishment and delivering it soundly, from
directly above her naked ass, with a loud resounding crack as the
leather bit into the creamy-white flesh.
     "AHHHHH!" she cried, feeling the first blush of searing pain upon
her right buttock.  Her body lurched forward ever so slightly, but she
maintained her balance.  I let her wait a moment for the next blow, her
buttocks twitching slightly in anticipation, not wanting her to know
when or where to expect it.  Finally, I let her have another one, this
one a bit more sharp than the first, on the same cheek, but a bit more
toward her right hip, with the cruel belt swung in such a fashion as to
come more from the side than the top.
     She gasped loudly in pain, the shock of receiving a lash where she
wasn't expecting it, inhaled deeply, then let out with an almost
blaring, pain-admitting "OHHH!"
     I waited again, letting the pain simmer slightly, before delivering
the third stroke, which, like the first, was brought directly down from
above her buttocks, this time on the left side, with about the same
intensity as the second one.  I had made Beth assume the ankle-grasping
position with a specific purpose in mind--to stretch her skin tightly
across her ass   and thereby increase the severity of the pain.  My
method worked to perfection; I watched the taut cheeks ripple only
slightly as her "AHHH'S" and "OHHH'S" became longer and louder, her
breathing more ragged, and lovely ass cheeks more and more
reddened from the onslaught.
     Over the next ten or fifteen minutes, I delivered at least ten or
twelve more hard lashes to her beleaguered behind, ignoring her pleas
for mercy, which she meant for effect only, and Beth accepted them all
with a growing understanding that I would tolerate no more of her
insolence, that any misbehavior on her part would meet with punishment
accordingly.  The juices streaking down the insides of her thighs,
something I had not seen her do heretofore, flowing copiously from her
vagina, were the best evidence that the extreme pain she was graciously
accepting was as much of a turn-on for her as it was for me.
     I placed the belt back on the table, then slid the chair forward
again, until my legs were between hers with my sword ready to be
sheathed directly beneath her gaping vagina.  I placed my hands on her
hips, now coated with sweat, and gently pushed them downward.  Without a
word, Beth raised herself up slightly, her body still bent forward
and her well-reddened ass, lightly streaked ass brushing against my
lower chest, and lowered herself onto my erection.  My cock slammed into
her hot, steaming cunt with one quick jolt, to the hilt, as her ass
crushed against my abdomen.
     The act was the quickest fuck I can ever remember.  I came almost
as soon as my cockhead bumped against her cervix, and I spurted forth so
much pent-up cum that I thought it would never stop gushing.  To my
surprise, Beth came too, her cries of pleasure almost as vocal as her
earlier shrieks of pain.
     It wasn't over quite yet, however.  After coming down from her
high, Beth raised herself off of my still erect manhood and turned to
face me.  Keeping her legs wide open, she moved forward until her crotch
was above my cock again, then lowered her pussy until we were sheathed
again.  Her pubic hairs mingled with mine; the cheeks of well-warmed ass
rested atop my thighs.  We embraced once more, her unbelievably hard
nipples digging into my chest.
     She cocked her head sexily, a contagious smile broadening across
her face.  "Wow," she whispered into my ear,  "I guess I'll be a good
girl from now on."
     Her pussy was as hot as I'd ever felt it, and as wet as a lake.  "I
guess you will," I said, returning her smile.
     She moved her head back so she could see me eyes.  "You didn't hold
back," she said, an obvious reference to the force of the whipping I had
just delivered.
     "No, I didn't.  Did you want me to?"
     She smiled again, the answer to my question readily apparent in her
eyes.  She was pensive for a moment, then said, "You could have whipped
the insides of my thighs... or even between my legs.  That would have
really taught me a lesson!"
     I looked at her in disbelief.  This was more than a suggestion that
her submission was showing no limits, it was an open invitation for more
extreme punishments.  "There will be other times," I said.
     "When you won't hold back."  Her eyes spoke of her seriousness, of
her complete submissiveness.
     "No, I promise--I won't hold back."
     "Good," she smiled, pressing her crotch harder against me, planting
my shaft even deeper inside her, brushing against her cervix once more.
"Now then, would you like another cup of coffee?"