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The Punishment

BDSM
2000-01-01

The Punishment I have been watching you for days now. YouÒ€ℒre always walking the same road, always wearing one of those short dresses that make me think of what you might be hiding under them. And thatÒ€ℒs all it takes to make me hard again.

You walk away down the road and I quickly excuse myself from work to find release in the bathroom. And it drives me slowly insane to see you every day. You almost seem to be teasing me, wearing clothes that hide less and less with every day. It would be the ever hotter summer weather, though. You walk away again and I realize that youÒ€ℒre actually walking down the same road I walk in a few hours, after IÒ€ℒve finished with work for the day. Today would not be any different.

That is, if I wouldnÒ€ℒt make it different myself. And so I excuse myself from the work earlier, claiming something to be wrong with my stomach. IÒ€ℒll go home and start to put my plan into action. YouÒ€ℒve teased me too much and now itÒ€ℒs time for the punishment. I take off my usual clothes and replace them with the old ones I dug up in some old shop in the town. They donÒ€ℒt fit me as well as my other clothes, but I donÒ€ℒt want you or my colleagues to recognize me. And so I wait for you, standing on the opposite side of the road from my workplace.

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   Finally you come, wearing very little again. A short blue dress that doesnÒ€ℒt leave much to my imagination. Are you disappointed not to see me sitting behind my table by the window?

Or am I just imagining things again, the same way as IÒ€ℒve done it every other day IÒ€ℒve seen you here? You walk on, and I start to follow you. We walk like this for a while, and IÒ€ℒm right - you are walking the road that leads to my house. I start to walk a bit faster, but you donÒ€ℒt notice me until I reach you just in front of my home. And the chloroform doesnÒ€ℒt give you a chance to react.

When you wake up youÒ€ℒre still wearing your clothes, but your hands and feet are bound to the four-poster in my bedroom.

You try to move them, but they won't move enough for you to defend yourself. My hands move freely on your clothes, feeling every one of your curves under them, then moving under the dress to finally touch your skin. You gasp, then finally realize what is going on and open your mouth to scream. You will not do this, though, as the knife IÒ€ℒve picked up now makes you rethink your strategies. "DonÒ€ℒt try to move too much," I finally say. "We wouldn't want to cut you, would we?"

There is fear in your eyes as the sharp knife slowly moves along your body, then cuts through the straps on your shoulders. But you do not move. I lift your dress a little and make a cut in it over your breasts, then let it snap back down again.

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   Ò€œNo bra? IÒ€ℒm impressed. Ò€ You start to say something, but only gasp again as my mouth reaches your right nipple and my tongue starts its dance. Your left nipple soon finds itself in my fingers that slowly move over your breast, making the nipple as hard as my mouth is making the other one. And again you almost forget what is really happening to you.

Until you notice again that your hands and feet are tied. Ò€œWhat do you want from me?Ò€ This is what you ask as you finally gather enough courage to speak. IsnÒ€ℒt it obvious? Do you really not know? DonÒ€ℒt you see? Ò€œIsnÒ€ℒt it obvious?Ò€ I repeat my thoughts aloud. Ò€œI want you! You have been teasing me enough, and now itÒ€ℒs time for the punishment. Ò€ Another cut parts your dress almost completely, leaving only a small strip of cloth above your breasts to hold it together. My hands roam your body and you try not to get aroused by their movement.

You donÒ€ℒt want this to happen to you, but as I reach your panties, you shudder and they slowly start to get wet with your juices. You whimper under my touch as my hands are simultaneously moving on your mound and your breasts. Ò€œYouÒ€ℒre a bad girl,Ò€ I say. Ò€œIt seems you want more. Even though you think you donÒ€ℒt - your body says something else!Ò€ Ò€œNo!Ò€ you shake your head.

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   Ò€œPlease! Please let me go!Ò€ you beg. Ò€œI wonÒ€ℒt tell anyone! I swear! Just let me go! DonÒ€ℒt do this to me!Ò€ I cut the last piece of cloth that holds your dress together and it falls off your body. ItÒ€ℒs now just lying under you like a plain blue piece of cloth.

Only your panties are still covering the most private parts of your body, but we both know it won't stay this way for long.

My hands and mouth are now on your breasts again, but they slowly start to move lower, toward the last piece of your body still covered. I take the knife, again, and you want to scream as I cut the sides of the last piece of your clothing. WhatÒ€ℒs left of your panties goes flying somewhere behind me as my hands want to touch the forbidden zone. You gasp once again, and my mouth moves in to cover your cunt with kisses, to stroke it with my tongue. You moan out, unable to stop yourself, unwilling to enjoy this, but you cannot resist. You gasp, purr and moan under my mouth, my hands all over your body again. I stand up and quickly undress myself.

You silently shake your head, still asking me not to do this, but you know that it will happen anyway. And even deeper inside, you want this yourself too. I can see your body telling this to me. And so I move again to the bed, over you, and kiss you forcefully.

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   I grab your breasts, I move my hands over your body again, and as you moan once again, I push in. And I fuck you, thereÒ€ℒs no other word for it.

It isnÒ€ℒt making love, itÒ€ℒs just pure fucking. And it feels so incredible to be inside you. IÒ€ℒm moving in and out with increasing speed as IÒ€ℒm also moving closer and closer to release. I completely lose my mind in this amazing feeling and lean in to kiss you. IÒ€ℒm gone so far that I donÒ€ℒt even realize that you shouldnÒ€ℒt be kissing me back as you do just that. You shudder and moan into my mouth as you reach your orgasm and this also brings me to mine. I come inside you, never even thinking about the possible consequences.

Totally spent, I lay on top of you, until I gather enough strength (and mind) to pull out. With a tired hand I pick up the knife and release your legs, your arms. You turn to me and kiss me, and we curl together on the bed. Ò€œYou owe me new clothes," you laugh and I nod my head in agreement. The last thing you hear before we both drift away to sleep is a question: Ò€œSo, what do we play the next time?Ò€

.

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