Later that day, after Mrs. C. had cleaned up and gotten dressed again, Greg informed her that they were going out to lunch, to celebrate their new relationship. Greg could see she was nervous about this idea, since she feared discovery, but didn't want to argue with him, knowing that it would only result in further punishment for her. Her ass and breasts were still sore from their previous punishment, and she wasn't too keen on repeating it anytime soon.
Seeing her trepidation, Greg attempted to put her mind at ease. "Don't worry, Mrs. C. I thought a little trip to Blackfoot might be in order today." Blackfoot was a city roughly 30 minutes from where they lived, and was both large enough and far enough away that it was unlikely anyone thry knew would see them together. Greg could see her visibly relax at hearing that.
After arriving in Blackwood, Greg gave her directions to a restaurant he remembered eating in, several years ago, when he had come here shopping with his parents. It was almost 1:30pm, and most of the lunch rush had already departed, leaving the restaurant half-empty. As they settled into a booth and ordered their drinks, Greg looked around at his surroundings. They were in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, and most of the tables around them were empty. The lighting was also dim enough that it afforded them some measure of privacy. After placing their orders for food, Greg leaned over the table and whispered, "You know, Mrs. C., when you stop wearing those frumpy clothes and get all dressed up, you really are quite a beautiful woman."
Blushing at the compliment, she dropped her gaze and whispered back, "Thank you Sir."
Greg took the opportunity, as they waited for their meals to arrive, to look around again at their surroundings, and that was when he noticed a man who looked to be in his late thirties, sitting alone at a table, several tables away from their booth. He would occasionally glance over, and Greg knew he was enjoying the sight of Mrs. Clark, sitting there in her too-tight blouse and tight short black skirt.
As Greg watched him continue to surreptitiously check out Mrs. C., an idea began to form in the back of his mind. Once their meals had been delivered, Greg leaned over the table and said, "You know what, Mrs. C.? I think I'd like it if you undid a button on your blouse. I'd like to see a little more of your breasts."
Mumbling a quiet "Yes Sir," she reached up with shaking hands and quickly undid the top of her blouse. Since there were only a few buttons on her blouse, this opened up the top of her cleavage to anyone who cared to look. When Greg didn't say anything further as they ate their meals, Mrs. C began to visibly relax, as she thought that, perhaps, that was all he wanted from her.
As they finished their meals, Greg leaned across the table and said conspiratorially, "You know, Mrs., C.? I think that man over there is in to you. He's been watching you the entire time we've been here. He seems to be all alone, so why don't we invite him over to join us?"
Greg could tell his question caught her by surprise. She began to mumble a response, "But Sir....what...." But before she could say anything else, Greg was already waving at him to come over and join them.
Looking a little surprised at his gesture, the man finally picked up his drink and ambled over to join them. As soon as he arrived, Greg said, "Scoot over, Mrs. C., and give this man some room to join us."
Blushing furiously, she shuffled over on her bench, giving the man some room to sit down beside her. After the introductions were made, they learned a little about their surprise guest. His name was Bob, and he was an accountant here in town, on business for several days, before heading back to his hometown, several states over. Looking at his left hand, Greg could see the tan line from a quickly removed ring, and realized that he may do just fine for the plan that he was starting to formulate, in his mind.
Conversationally, Greg informed Bob, "You know, Mrs. C., here, was just telling me, a few minutes ago, how attractive she finds you."
Eyebrows raised, clearly surprised at Greg's comment, he replied, "Well, isn't that a surprise. I was thinking the same thing about her."
"Well then, isn't that a coincidence, Mrs. C.?" Greg asked.
Nodding her head she mumbled a shy, "Yes". A smile began to form at the corner of Greg's lips as he caught her slight transgression in forgetting to address him as Sir.
"You know, Bob, I couldn't help but notice how you've been admiring Mrs. C.'s breasts."
Again, surprised at Greg's boldness, and, perhaps, beginning to have some suspicions about his relationship with the beautiful woman, sitting next to him, he simply nodded his head and said "Yes I have, Greg. They are quite lovely."
"You know, I couldn't agree more, Bob. And I'll let you in on a little secret, Mrs. C. is pretty proud of her titties and doesn't mind showing them off, do you, Mrs. C.?" Greg asks innocently.
Turning a darker shade of red, with her eyes downcast, she again muttered "Yes.......Sir." hesitantly adding the 'Sir' at the end. Greg could see that Bob caught that little exchange, and, perhaps, his suspicions were becoming a little more firm now. Bob wasn't a fool, though, and decided to play it cool and let Greg guide the conversation.
"Mrs. C., why don't you undo a button on your blouse, so Bob can get a better look at your tits?"
Keeping her eyes down, with shaking hands, Mrs. C. reached up and undid the next button on her blouse. Now there was only one more button holding her blouse together. It was now plainly obvious, to anyone who cared to look, that Mrs. C. was not wearing a bra, and was excited about what was taking place. Her nipples were as hard as rocks, threatening to poke holes in her too-tight blouse.
"Bob, would you like to touch them?" Greg asks.
"Uh yeah, you bet," he quickly replied.
"You don't mind, do you, Mrs. C.?" Greg asks innocently.
"No Sir," she quietly replied.
Taking that as his invitation, Bob turned his upper body towards her providing a small shield to any prying eyes, and hesitantly reached into her opened blouse, to cup her right breast. When no one said to stop, he became bolder, and began to openly fondle one and then the other breast, paying particular attention to her erect nipples. After a little while of this, Greg could tell Mrs. C. was getting turned on, since she had closed her eyes and was now taking small shallow breaths.
"I'm going to let you in on another little secret, Bob. Mrs. C., here, is getting turned on by your touching her like that, in a public place. I bet if you stuck a finger in her pussy right now, you'd find it soaking wet."
"Yeah?"
Mrs. C's skirt was short enough, that when she sat down, it rode up pretty high on her thighs, and was now just barely covering her bare pussy. "Mrs. C., why don't you open your legs a little bit, and let Bob, here, have a feel? I don't think he believes me."
This time there was no hesitation. She was, by now, too far gone to be concerned about anyone noticing. Taking his left hand out of her blouse, he left her right nipple exposed, and reached under her skirt to find her newly shaved cunt. With an almost audible sigh, Mrs. C's head rolled back, as she enjoyed the sensation of a perfect stranger burying his finger in her pussy, while sitting in a public restaurant. Seeing her implicit consent for his actions, Bob continued to work his fingers into her pussy, marveling at her wetness and willingness to do whatever this young man, sitting across from him, said.
Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Bob continued his ministrations on her pussy, enjoying the little mewls of pleasures coming from Mrs. C. The more she squirmed, the more her right breast worked its way completely clear of her blouse.
As Greg sensed her orgasm building, he told Bob, "I think she's going to cum for you, Bob. Go a little faster, and then, when she's about to cum, I want you pinch her clit real hard. She loves it like that."
"You sure?" he asked questioningly.
"Absolutely sure, Bob," Greg nodded emphatically.
"Ok." And with that he renewed his efforts on her pussy, delighting in the sounds of pleasure Mrs. C.was making. When it appeared she was about to cum, Bob grabbed hold of her clit between his thumb and index finger, and squeezed as hard as he could.
Mrs. C's eyes suddenly opened wide and her body shot forward, forcing her other breast to fall free from her blouse, as her body began to shake and convulse with the force of her orgasm. Bob couldn't believe how powerful an orgasm this strange woman was having, while sitting in this restaurant.
When she finally came back to earth, her face reddening with shame, she sheepishly tucked her boobs back into her blouse, and attempted to smooth out her skirt.
Looking around to make sure no one noticed their little display; Greg exclaimed "that was really well done Mrs. C. It sure looked like you enjoyed that. But now, I think you've caused Bob a little discomfort," he said, nodding his head towards the very obvious erection in Bob's pants.
Sheepishly she replied, "I'm sorry, Bob."
"That's quite alright, Anne," Bob tried to reassure her as he shifted uncomfortably in the booth.
"You know it's not fair to you, Bob," Greg pushed. "I think it only fair that Mrs. C return the favor. I'll have you know that she has a very capable mouth, and she would love to help you out."
Not believing his luck, Bob simply mumbled, "umm....sure."
Bob offered to pay for their lunch, and Greg told him to meet them in the back parking lot, as it would be deserted at this time of day and was well sheltered from view of the road. He quickly agreed. Greg had Mrs. C. pull her car around back, and park parallel to the restaurant, towards the rear of the treed lot. In this way, the car would offer some measure of privacy, for what he had in mind.
When Bob came around back, he was a little surprised to see them there. He had secretly been thinking that he probably wouldn't see them again.
When he was standing beside them, Greg ordered Mrs. C to, "Get on your knees, Mrs. C., and open up that blouse of yours. I think Bob really enjoyed the sight of your pert little titties."
Blushing a deep shade of red, she knelt before a stranger, and, for the second time that day, unbuttoned her blouse completely, so that both breasts were visible. Clasping her hands behind her back, she took up the cocksucking position she had been taught earlier that day. Without needing any further prompting from Greg, Bob undid his pants and dropped them along with his underwear at his feet.
Shuffling forward, Mrs. C. opened her mouth and took the strangers cock into it. Remembering what was expected of her, and not wanting to disappoint Greg, perhaps out of fear of what he would do to her, or maybe out of wanting to make him proud of her, she began to attack his cock with gusto. Once it was completely covered in her saliva, she began to try and work the head of his cock into her throat. When Bob realized what she was trying to do, he let out a little gasp of surprise.
Taking that as encouragement, Mrs. C pushed harder against his cock burying more and more into her throat. Despite continuing to gag, she began to work the length of it in and out of her throat. It appeared to be easier this time around. 'Perhaps there was hope for her yet, in that department,' Greg thought.
Seeing that Bob was close, Greg encouraged him further. "Bob, take hold of her hair at the back of her head, and use it to pound your cock in her mouth. She loves it rough, in fact, the rougher the better. See if you can bury your cock all the way in with each thrust." Greg's words were having their effect on Bob, and doing as he was instructed, he began hammering away at her face. It didn't take long for him to reach orgasm, and, at Greg's prompting, pump his entire load down her throat.
When he had pumped his last, Bob stepped back and hastily pulled up his pants. Muttering a thank you, he patted Mrs. C. on the head and quickly headed back to his car on the other side of the restaurant.
Looking down at Mrs. C., Greg could see that she had not moved from her position and was again a mess, since her face and exposed chest was covered in her saliva. Reaching for a towel, in the back seat, Greg ordered her to clean up and get into the car. That little display had given Greg another idea, and he knew just the place to try it out.
**************************
As they made their way over to the other side of town, to a store Greg remembered seeing on his earlier visit, he began to formulate a tentative plan of action. Remembering a situation, written about in one of the stories Mrs. C. had been reading that first night, Greg decided to see how far he could push a similar situation.
As they pulled up in front of the address Greg had given Mrs. C, her face fell as she saw the name on the store. She was also thinking about the situation found in "The Humiliation of my Wife" and wondering what he had in mind.
"Come on Mrs. C. We have some supplies to pick up." Stepping out of the car, Greg continued. "If I plan on giving you some proper training, I'm going to need the right gear to do it." Striding purposefully across the street, Greg could hear the clack-clack of Mrs. C's heels on the pavement, as she attempted to keep up with him. Standing on the sidewalk, Greg stopped and took a moment to look around, at their surroundings. They were in a seedier part of the commercial district of Blackwood and were standing in front of a store called the 'Adult Emporium'. There was little traffic on the road and few pedestrians walking the sidewalks. Greg doubted there would be many people coming in to the store, at this time of the day.
As they walked into the store, Greg noted how dim the lighting was, and saw that there was cardboard in all of the windows, making it impossible for someone to look into the store, and see what was happening. At the front of the store were racks of lingerie and other costume type clothing. Along the walls were display cases and racks holding various toys and sex paraphernalia. This was Greg's first time in an adult sex store, and he hadn't been sure what to expect. As he continued to look around, Greg also noted that the store was void of customers. Greg immediately felt disappointment, though, when he looked to the front corner of the store where the cash register was located, and found a woman sitting behind the till reading a novel.
All of his 'plans' sort of went out the window, when he saw that. Greg doubted things would go quite like they did in the story he had read. Greg did notice though that the woman behind the till was actually very pretty. 'Too pretty, really, to be working in a store like this,' he thought. She was about an inch shorter than Mrs. C. and had long blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She only had on a little makeup; just enough to accentuate her best features. She was slender with an athletic build. Her breasts were small, yet firm and she had a nice, shapely ass in her black stretch pants. She looked to be about 20 years old.
Sneaking a peek at Mrs. C., Greg could see a small smile on her lips as she also figured out that she was probably safe here as well. With an audible sigh, Greg decided to quickly get the supplies and be on their way. Clearing his throat, Greg began to ask the clerk, "Where do I find the collars?"
The clerk seemed startled, and looked up at them in surprise. Greg realized then that she likely had been so engrossed in her book, that she never even heard them enter the store. She began to point to her left, towards a display case, when she did what can only be described as a double take. Her head snapped back to them mid sentence, and her mouth hung open, as she gaped at them in surprise. Greg guessed that she doesn't often see gorgeous women in here with much younger men in tow. She jumped out of her seat and practically ran over to them, quickly offering her help in finding anything they should need. She barely gave Greg a glance, as she stared fixedly at Mrs. C.
With a smile beginning to form on his lips, Greg again asked, "Where do I find the collars?"
With only a glance out of the corner of her eyes, she replied, "Oh, they're over here," pointing to her left as she began to walk in that direction. When she arrived at a rack with a variety of collar types hanging from it, she asked "What type of collar were you looking for?" Her question was directed at Greg, but she never took her eyes off of Mrs. C.
"I have to admit.....Sara...." as Greg noted the name on her name tag, "that I have never been in an adult sex shop before. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what I need. The collar would be for Mrs. C. here." Her cheeks blushed a deep red on hearing that. "What would you recommend for her? She likes to be treated like a dog and led around by her collar," Greg added matter-of-factly. He figured if he couldn't have the fun he had planned here, then at least he could embarrass and humiliate Mrs. C. a little.
With a short intake of breath, and a little color now appearing on Sara's cheeks, she smiled broadly at Mrs. C., and said, "Oh, I have the perfect collar for her, then." Turning around, she rummaged through the rack of collars behind her, until she found the one she was looking for. Holding up a collar she asked, "How's this?"
The collar was black leather, with soft felt lining the inside, and it had silver studs around the outside of it. It also had several silver metal loops spaced around it. It was fastened together by a small silver fastener similar to a belt buckle. Pretending to think about it for a few seconds, Greg said, "I think that might do. Can you put in on her for me to make sure it fits?" he asked innocently.
Coloring a deeper red, Sara quickly replied "sure," and stepped forward until her body was almost touching Mrs. C's. She reached up and gently placed the collar around Mrs. C's neck, fastening it at the back. Her eyes remained fixed on Mrs. C's face the whole time, and she had a big smile on her lips. Mrs. C. was just as red as Sara was, but kept her eyes downcast the entire time. Greg noticed that Sara's hands seem to linger at her neck, and it seemed to take longer than it should to put a collar on. A thought began to form at the back of his head as he studied Sara's interaction with Mrs. C.
Finally Sara stepped back and asked, "Well, what do you think?"
Greg smiled at her and said, "It looks perfect. Do you mind if she keeps it on for a while? I can tell she really likes the feel of it."
"Sure," was the quick reply. "Is there anything else you need?" she asked expectantly.
"Well, as a matter of fact, there is," Greg answered grinning. Leaning forward he pretended to whisper to Sara, "She's also looking for nipple clamps."
Sara's grin broadened at hearing that, and she quickly led them to a display case several feet away. "We have several different types of nipple clamps. What type were you looking for?" For the first time since we walked into the store, Sara was finally looking at Greg. She felt a nervous anticipation, as she began to sense what their relationship might be, and it wasn't repulsing her.
"I'm looking for clamps which won't fall off easily. I want the kind that can be tightened as much as you want since Mrs. C. here likes having her nipples pinched hard. Also, I want them joined together by a chain, so that I can lead her around by her nipples like a dog. Do you have anything like that?" Greg asked questioningly.
Greg could see Sara was a bit shocked by his frankness, but he also thought she was getting a little excited by it, as well. She rummaged through the display case for several seconds, until she finally produced a small silver pair of clamps, joined together by a medium length chain. Holding them up, she nervously asked, "Will these do?"
"I don't know," Greg said shaking his head. "I need to make sure they'll stay on. I've never used nipple clamps before, so I'm not sure how to use them. Would you mind putting them on Mrs. C. here, so I can see how to do it and to make sure that they'll stay on?" he asked as innocently as possible.
Looking around nervously she stuttered, "Well....umm....I don't know......I don't want to get in trouble. You sure you want me to?"
"Absolutely" Greg quickly replied. "But perhaps it would be best to lock the door, so we are not interrupted."
"Oh, that's a good idea" she replied as she practically ran over to the front door and threw the bolt. As the bolt slid home, with an audible click, Mrs. C. practically jumped off the ground. With that sound, she realized that Greg had something planned for her and that being interrupted before he had a chance to put his plan into action was no longer a possibility.
Sara practically came bouncing back to stand in front of Mrs. C., waiting for their next move. "You know, Mrs. C., it'll be a lot easier for us if you remove that blouse. That way we can see how they'll look, once they're on. Don't you think?" Greg asked her pointedly.
With a note of terror in her voice, she replied "Yes Sir," and, with shaking hands, began to undo the buttons on her blouse. When, at last, the final button was undone, she paused, before slowly parting the cloth and shrugging the blouse from her shoulder. Taking the blouse from her and hanging it on a rack beside him, Greg took the opportunity to sneak a glance at Sara. He needn't have tried to be sneaky, since she had eyes only for Mrs. C's breasts. Her mouth hung open, as she gaped at the exposed flesh.
When it appeared Sara wasn't going to move, Greg cleared his throat and said, "Go ahead and put them on for me, please."
His words seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and, with shaking hands, she reached up for Mrs. C.'s left nipple. Grasping the already hardened nipple with one hand, she pulled out slightly as she applied the clamp with the other hand. Again, Sara's hands seem to linger on her breasts for several seconds, before relinquishing their hold on the nipple. Reaching up, with her left hand now, she did the same to Mrs. C's right nipple. Once both clamps were affixed, Sara stepped back to admire her handiwork. Her face was now flushed with excitement, and her breathing had quickened.
"Now, you said these clamps can be tightened. Can you show me how?" It was quite obvious how it was done, but Greg wanted to see how far he could push Sara.
"Sure," she quickly replied as she stepped forward again.
"I want you to tighten them both at the same time," Greg explained. "I'll tell you when to stop. You see, Mrs. C. here is often a very bad girl, and she requires frequent punishment. One thing she always begs me to do is to punish her nipples, so this was why I thought the clamps might be a good idea," Greg improvised. By this time, Sara had reached up and was starting to slowly turn the screws on the clamps. Greg watched in fascination, as the clamps slowly closed on the nipples, causing the tips to become engorged with blood. The tighter they got, the more agonized the look on Mrs. C's face became. By this time, Sara was transfixed on Mrs. C's face, watching the discomfort, and eventually pain, she was causing her. But to my amazement, she never stopped turning the screws.
Once Mrs. C. began to mewl in pain, Greg told Sara she could stop tightening the clamps. He almost chuckled out loud when he saw the look of disappointment pass over Sara's face. At this point, it was quite obvious to him that Sara was in to women, and that she was enjoying dominating Mrs. C. "Alright, I want you to lead Mrs. C. around the store, like the little whore that she is." Greg's words again startled Sara, but without any further encouragement from him, she grabbed the dangling chain and began walking about the store, giving them a tug, every now and then, to keep Mrs. C. on her toes. "Go ahead and call her 'whore', Sara. She likes being called that."
This had Sara practically skipping through the aisles, as she now began to coax Mrs. C. around the store like she was a dog. "Come on whore, follow me. Stay close, whore."
Finally she reluctantly led Mrs. C. back to where Greg had been standing and stood there holding the chain, waiting for his next cue.
"Is there anything else you'd like for your whore?" she asked expectantly.
It was quite obvious Sara was in to this whole scene, and would be a willing participant to whatever Greg had planned. "Now that you mention it Sara, there is," he calmly replied. "I find myself needing to spank my whore often, and I really don't have the proper tools for the job. Do you have anything here for that?"
"Definitely," she replied in a breathless voice. Still holding the chain, she led them over to a display case against the far wall. In it were numerous implements, ranging from whips to paddles.
"Wow! That is quite the selection. Again, I have to beg ignorance here Sara. I've never used any of this stuff. Would you mind indulging me a bit more?" Greg asked as innocently as possible.
With no hesitation, she quickly replied in the affirmative.
Pretending ignorance, Greg pointed to a small wooden paddle, resembling a ping pong paddle, and said, "How about that one?"
Finally dropping the chain, she reached into the case, pulled out the paddle, and held it out for Greg.
Shaking his head, he said, "Oh no, not me. I'm not sure how to use it. Would you mind showing me how it's used?"
At this, Sara practically licked her lips in anticipation. "Sure," was her only response.
"Whore, take your skirt off. Sara has very generously agreed to teach us how to use these things," Greg ordered.
"Yes sir," she replied shakily and, with one fluid movement, stepped out of her skirt and was once again holding it out to him.
Taking the skirt and hanging it with her blouse, Greg instructed, "Bend over and grab your ankles whore. Spread your feet apart. Wider." When she was suitably presented with her legs spread wide, opening up her newly shaven pussy and ass to both Greg and Sara, he added, "Now, do not release those ankles under any circumstances. Is that clear whore?"
Mrs. C. nodded her head, as she hung upside down and mumbled a meek, "yes Sir."
"I'm sure you realize what the consequences will be should you move," Greg added for good measure. Turning to Sara, he instructed, "Go ahead and show me how to use that. I want you to hit her ass as hard as you can. I'll tell you when to stop. Would that be alright?" Greg asked.
Nodding her head yes, she stepped up to Mrs. C.'s ass, and taking aim, brought the paddle down hard on her left cheek.
CRACK
The sound reverberated around the store. Greg needn't have worried about Sara holding back either, since it was quite evident she put everything into it. The force of the blow was almost enough to topple Mrs. C. Mrs. C. realized that, in order to not lose her balance, she would actually have to push back against the blow. This went against every fiber of her being, which just wanted to get away from the blow, not move towards it.
CRACK
CRACK
Sara continued her assault on Mrs. C's ass, alternating the blows to each cheek. In no time at all, both cheeks were completely red.
"Ok, that's enough," Greg finally said, after Sara had landed approximately 5 blows to each cheek. "What about that one, now?" Greg asked pointing to a leather cat-o-nine-tails.
Sara, now out of breath, simply put the paddle down, and quickly picked up the next device. No encouragement was needed from Greg, as she began laying in to Mrs. C.'s already reddened ass.
After another 10 blows from the cat-o-nine-tails, which left multiple red streaks across her ass, Greg again stopped Sara and pointed to the next implement. This one was a thin white cane.
Sara swished the cane through the air several times, before taking careful aim. As the cane made contact across both cheeks simultaneously, it sounded vaguely like the sound a bow makes when an arrow was fired.
THWACK
A god-awful shriek erupted from Mrs. C., as an angry red welt appeared where the cane had made contact. Tears were flowing freely now as Mrs. C. practically danced on the spot in pain. To her credit, she didn't let go of her ankles, but Greg could see she wouldn't be able to take much more from the cane.
"Just one more with the cane will do, Sara," he instructed.
Without even thinking about it, Sara replied, "yes Sir," and then brought the cane down across Mrs. C's ass once more.
Another THWACK followed by a blood-curdling scream.
"Ok, just one more device I want you to demonstrate for me Sara." Greg pointed to a medium sized leather crop, which appeared to have a good amount of flex in its shaft.
Sara was completely flushed with excitement, and was breathing heavily, as she returned the cane and grabbed the crop. Once again, she swished it through the air several times to get a feel for it before landing a beautiful hit to Mrs. C's left ass cheek. She quickly followed that with another hit to the other ass cheek. As she continued her assault on the ass, Mrs. C. was by now a blubbering mess as she cried and mewled in pain. There also was a very strong smell of sex in the air, and Greg noted, with a grin, that Mrs. C's inner thighs were soaked with her juices.
Here she was, bent over naked in front of a strange girl, not much older than her own daughter, with clamps killing her nipples, and her ass a blistered mass of welts, and yet, she was getting turned on by the abuse and humiliation.
"Sara?" Greg asked, causing her to pause in her strokes, "Hold up for a second please."
"Whore, I want you to reach back with both hands and pull your ass cheeks apart for Sara." When she had done as requested, further humiliating herself in front of this stranger, Greg continued. "Sara, I want you to hit her asshole with that crop, as hard as you can. Are you Ok with that?" he asked.
"Oh, yes Sir," she quickly replied, licking her lips in anticipation. Taking aim, she brought the crop down hard right on the exposed bud.
SMACK
"Ahhh" Mrs. C. bellowed, knees beginning to buckle from the torment. Again, to her credit, she kept her hands in place holding her cheeks apart. Greg could tell she was close, and just needed a little nudge to push her over the edge.
"Ok Sara, just one more stroke. This time, I want you to do an under-hand swing and hit her right on her clit and pussy lips."
"Yes Sir," she replied. No coercion was needed here.
When Mrs. C. had settled down and stopped moving, Sara took careful aim, and after several practice swings, brought the crop up hard right on Mrs. C's wet pussy lips.
SMACK
Mrs. C's head snapped up, as her knees quickly buckled under her. All thoughts to keeping her hands on her asscheeks were long forgotten, as she crumpled to the ground, a low keening sound coming from her, with her hands buried deep in her tortured pussy. She began to convulse and shake on the floor, as a powerful orgasm ripped through her body.
Later that day, after Mrs. C. had cleaned up and gotten dressed again, Greg informed her that they were going out to lunch, to celebrate their new relationship. Greg could see she was nervous about this idea, since she feared discovery, but didn't want to argue with him, knowing that it would only result in further punishment for her. Her ass and breasts were still sore from their previous punishment, and she wasn't too keen on repeating it anytime soon.
Seeing her trepidation, Greg attempted to put her mind at ease. "Don't worry, Mrs. C. I thought a little trip to Blackfoot might be in order today." Blackfoot was a city roughly 30 minutes from where they lived, and was both large enough and far enough away that it was unlikely anyone thry knew would see them together. Greg could see her visibly relax at hearing that.
After arriving in Blackwood, Greg gave her directions to a restaurant he remembered eating in, several years ago, when he had come here shopping with his parents. It was almost 1:30pm, and most of the lunch rush had already departed, leaving the restaurant half-empty. As they settled into a booth and ordered their drinks, Greg looked around at his surroundings. They were in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, and most of the tables around them were empty. The lighting was also dim enough that it afforded them some measure of privacy. After placing their orders for food, Greg leaned over the table and whispered, "You know, Mrs. C., when you stop wearing those frumpy clothes and get all dressed up, you really are quite a beautiful woman."
Blushing at the compliment, she dropped her gaze and whispered back, "Thank you Sir."
Greg took the opportunity, as they waited for their meals to arrive, to look around again at their surroundings, and that was when he noticed a man who looked to be in his late thirties, sitting alone at a table, several tables away from their booth. He would occasionally glance over, and Greg knew he was enjoying the sight of Mrs. Clark, sitting there in her too-tight blouse and tight short black skirt.
As Greg watched him continue to surreptitiously check out Mrs. C., an idea began to form in the back of his mind. Once their meals had been delivered, Greg leaned over the table and said, "You know what, Mrs. C.? I think I'd like it if you undid a button on your blouse. I'd like to see a little more of your breasts."
Mumbling a quiet "Yes Sir," she reached up with shaking hands and quickly undid the top of her blouse. Since there were only a few buttons on her blouse, this opened up the top of her cleavage to anyone who cared to look. When Greg didn't say anything further as they ate their meals, Mrs. C began to visibly relax, as she thought that, perhaps, that was all he wanted from her.
As they finished their meals, Greg leaned across the table and said conspiratorially, "You know, Mrs., C.? I think that man over there is in to you. He's been watching you the entire time we've been here. He seems to be all alone, so why don't we invite him over to join us?"
Greg could tell his question caught her by surprise. She began to mumble a response, "But Sir....what...." But before she could say anything else, Greg was already waving at him to come over and join them.
Looking a little surprised at his gesture, the man finally picked up his drink and ambled over to join them. As soon as he arrived, Greg said, "Scoot over, Mrs. C., and give this man some room to join us."
Blushing furiously, she shuffled over on her bench, giving the man some room to sit down beside her. After the introductions were made, they learned a little about their surprise guest. His name was Bob, and he was an accountant here in town, on business for several days, before heading back to his hometown, several states over. Looking at his left hand, Greg could see the tan line from a quickly removed ring, and realized that he may do just fine for the plan that he was starting to formulate, in his mind.
Conversationally, Greg informed Bob, "You know, Mrs. C., here, was just telling me, a few minutes ago, how attractive she finds you."
Eyebrows raised, clearly surprised at Greg's comment, he replied, "Well, isn't that a surprise. I was thinking the same thing about her."
"Well then, isn't that a coincidence, Mrs. C.?" Greg asked.
Nodding her head she mumbled a shy, "Yes". A smile began to form at the corner of Greg's lips as he caught her slight transgression in forgetting to address him as Sir.
"You know, Bob, I couldn't help but notice how you've been admiring Mrs. C.'s breasts."
Again, surprised at Greg's boldness, and, perhaps, beginning to have some suspicions about his relationship with the beautiful woman, sitting next to him, he simply nodded his head and said "Yes I have, Greg. They are quite lovely."
"You know, I couldn't agree more, Bob. And I'll let you in on a little secret, Mrs. C. is pretty proud of her titties and doesn't mind showing them off, do you, Mrs. C.?" Greg asks innocently.
Turning a darker shade of red, with her eyes downcast, she again muttered "Yes.......Sir." hesitantly adding the 'Sir' at the end. Greg could see that Bob caught that little exchange, and, perhaps, his suspicions were becoming a little more firm now. Bob wasn't a fool, though, and decided to play it cool and let Greg guide the conversation.
"Mrs. C., why don't you undo a button on your blouse, so Bob can get a better look at your tits?"
Keeping her eyes down, with shaking hands, Mrs. C. reached up and undid the next button on her blouse. Now there was only one more button holding her blouse together. It was now plainly obvious, to anyone who cared to look, that Mrs. C. was not wearing a bra, and was excited about what was taking place. Her nipples were as hard as rocks, threatening to poke holes in her too-tight blouse.
"Bob, would you like to touch them?" Greg asks.
"Uh yeah, you bet," he quickly replied.
"You don't mind, do you, Mrs. C.?" Greg asks innocently.
"No Sir," she quietly replied.
Taking that as his invitation, Bob turned his upper body towards her providing a small shield to any prying eyes, and hesitantly reached into her opened blouse, to cup her right breast. When no one said to stop, he became bolder, and began to openly fondle one and then the other breast, paying particular attention to her erect nipples. After a little while of this, Greg could tell Mrs. C. was getting turned on, since she had closed her eyes and was now taking small shallow breaths.
"I'm going to let you in on another little secret, Bob. Mrs. C., here, is getting turned on by your touching her like that, in a public place. I bet if you stuck a finger in her pussy right now, you'd find it soaking wet."
"Yeah?"
Mrs. C's skirt was short enough, that when she sat down, it rode up pretty high on her thighs, and was now just barely covering her bare pussy. "Mrs. C., why don't you open your legs a little bit, and let Bob, here, have a feel? I don't think he believes me."
This time there was no hesitation. She was, by now, too far gone to be concerned about anyone noticing. Taking his left hand out of her blouse, he left her right nipple exposed, and reached under her skirt to find her newly shaved cunt. With an almost audible sigh, Mrs. C's head rolled back, as she enjoyed the sensation of a perfect stranger burying his finger in her pussy, while sitting in a public restaurant. Seeing her implicit consent for his actions, Bob continued to work his fingers into her pussy, marveling at her wetness and willingness to do whatever this young man, sitting across from him, said.
Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Bob continued his ministrations on her pussy, enjoying the little mewls of pleasures coming from Mrs. C. The more she squirmed, the more her right breast worked its way completely clear of her blouse.
As Greg sensed her orgasm building, he told Bob, "I think she's going to cum for you, Bob. Go a little faster, and then, when she's about to cum, I want you pinch her clit real hard. She loves it like that."
"You sure?" he asked questioningly.
"Absolutely sure, Bob," Greg nodded emphatically.
"Ok." And with that he renewed his efforts on her pussy, delighting in the sounds of pleasure Mrs. C.was making. When it appeared she was about to cum, Bob grabbed hold of her clit between his thumb and index finger, and squeezed as hard as he could.
Mrs. C's eyes suddenly opened wide and her body shot forward, forcing her other breast to fall free from her blouse, as her body began to shake and convulse with the force of her orgasm. Bob couldn't believe how powerful an orgasm this strange woman was having, while sitting in this restaurant.
When she finally came back to earth, her face reddening with shame, she sheepishly tucked her boobs back into her blouse, and attempted to smooth out her skirt.
Looking around to make sure no one noticed their little display; Greg exclaimed "that was really well done Mrs. C. It sure looked like you enjoyed that. But now, I think you've caused Bob a little discomfort," he said, nodding his head towards the very obvious erection in Bob's pants.
Sheepishly she replied, "I'm sorry, Bob."
"That's quite alright, Anne," Bob tried to reassure her as he shifted uncomfortably in the booth.
"You know it's not fair to you, Bob," Greg pushed. "I think it only fair that Mrs. C return the favor. I'll have you know that she has a very capable mouth, and she would love to help you out."
Not believing his luck, Bob simply mumbled, "umm....sure."
Bob offered to pay for their lunch, and Greg told him to meet them in the back parking lot, as it would be deserted at this time of day and was well sheltered from view of the road. He quickly agreed. Greg had Mrs. C. pull her car around back, and park parallel to the restaurant, towards the rear of the treed lot. In this way, the car would offer some measure of privacy, for what he had in mind.
When Bob came around back, he was a little surprised to see them there. He had secretly been thinking that he probably wouldn't see them again.
When he was standing beside them, Greg ordered Mrs. C to, "Get on your knees, Mrs. C., and open up that blouse of yours. I think Bob really enjoyed the sight of your pert little titties."
Blushing a deep shade of red, she knelt before a stranger, and, for the second time that day, unbuttoned her blouse completely, so that both breasts were visible. Clasping her hands behind her back, she took up the cocksucking position she had been taught earlier that day. Without needing any further prompting from Greg, Bob undid his pants and dropped them along with his underwear at his feet.
Shuffling forward, Mrs. C. opened her mouth and took the strangers cock into it. Remembering what was expected of her, and not wanting to disappoint Greg, perhaps out of fear of what he would do to her, or maybe out of wanting to make him proud of her, she began to attack his cock with gusto. Once it was completely covered in her saliva, she began to try and work the head of his cock into her throat. When Bob realized what she was trying to do, he let out a little gasp of surprise.
Taking that as encouragement, Mrs. C pushed harder against his cock burying more and more into her throat. Despite continuing to gag, she began to work the length of it in and out of her throat. It appeared to be easier this time around. 'Perhaps there was hope for her yet, in that department,' Greg thought.
Seeing that Bob was close, Greg encouraged him further. "Bob, take hold of her hair at the back of her head, and use it to pound your cock in her mouth. She loves it rough, in fact, the rougher the better. See if you can bury your cock all the way in with each thrust." Greg's words were having their effect on Bob, and doing as he was instructed, he began hammering away at her face. It didn't take long for him to reach orgasm, and, at Greg's prompting, pump his entire load down her throat.
When he had pumped his last, Bob stepped back and hastily pulled up his pants. Muttering a thank you, he patted Mrs. C. on the head and quickly headed back to his car on the other side of the restaurant.
Looking down at Mrs. C., Greg could see that she had not moved from her position and was again a mess, since her face and exposed chest was covered in her saliva. Reaching for a towel, in the back seat, Greg ordered her to clean up and get into the car. That little display had given Greg another idea, and he knew just the place to try it out.
**************************
As they made their way over to the other side of town, to a store Greg remembered seeing on his earlier visit, he began to formulate a tentative plan of action. Remembering a situation, written about in one of the stories Mrs. C. had been reading that first night, Greg decided to see how far he could push a similar situation.
As they pulled up in front of the address Greg had given Mrs. C, her face fell as she saw the name on the store. She was also thinking about the situation found in "The Humiliation of my Wife" and wondering what he had in mind.
"Come on Mrs. C. We have some supplies to pick up." Stepping out of the car, Greg continued. "If I plan on giving you some proper training, I'm going to need the right gear to do it." Striding purposefully across the street, Greg could hear the clack-clack of Mrs. C's heels on the pavement, as she attempted to keep up with him. Standing on the sidewalk, Greg stopped and took a moment to look around, at their surroundings. They were in a seedier part of the commercial district of Blackwood and were standing in front of a store called the 'Adult Emporium'. There was little traffic on the road and few pedestrians walking the sidewalks. Greg doubted there would be many people coming in to the store, at this time of the day.
As they walked into the store, Greg noted how dim the lighting was, and saw that there was cardboard in all of the windows, making it impossible for someone to look into the store, and see what was happening. At the front of the store were racks of lingerie and other costume type clothing. Along the walls were display cases and racks holding various toys and sex paraphernalia. This was Greg's first time in an adult sex store, and he hadn't been sure what to expect. As he continued to look around, Greg also noted that the store was void of customers. Greg immediately felt disappointment, though, when he looked to the front corner of the store where the cash register was located, and found a woman sitting behind the till reading a novel.
All of his 'plans' sort of went out the window, when he saw that. Greg doubted things would go quite like they did in the story he had read. Greg did notice though that the woman behind the till was actually very pretty. 'Too pretty, really, to be working in a store like this,' he thought. She was about an inch shorter than Mrs. C. and had long blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She only had on a little makeup; just enough to accentuate her best features. She was slender with an athletic build. Her breasts were small, yet firm and she had a nice, shapely ass in her black stretch pants. She looked to be about 20 years old.
Sneaking a peek at Mrs. C., Greg could see a small smile on her lips as she also figured out that she was probably safe here as well. With an audible sigh, Greg decided to quickly get the supplies and be on their way. Clearing his throat, Greg began to ask the clerk, "Where do I find the collars?"
The clerk seemed startled, and looked up at them in surprise. Greg realized then that she likely had been so engrossed in her book, that she never even heard them enter the store. She began to point to her left, towards a display case, when she did what can only be described as a double take. Her head snapped back to them mid sentence, and her mouth hung open, as she gaped at them in surprise. Greg guessed that she doesn't often see gorgeous women in here with much younger men in tow. She jumped out of her seat and practically ran over to them, quickly offering her help in finding anything they should need. She barely gave Greg a glance, as she stared fixedly at Mrs. C.
With a smile beginning to form on his lips, Greg again asked, "Where do I find the collars?"
With only a glance out of the corner of her eyes, she replied, "Oh, they're over here," pointing to her left as she began to walk in that direction. When she arrived at a rack with a variety of collar types hanging from it, she asked "What type of collar were you looking for?" Her question was directed at Greg, but she never took her eyes off of Mrs. C.
"I have to admit.....Sara...." as Greg noted the name on her name tag, "that I have never been in an adult sex shop before. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what I need. The collar would be for Mrs. C. here." Her cheeks blushed a deep red on hearing that. "What would you recommend for her? She likes to be treated like a dog and led around by her collar," Greg added matter-of-factly. He figured if he couldn't have the fun he had planned here, then at least he could embarrass and humiliate Mrs. C. a little.
With a short intake of breath, and a little color now appearing on Sara's cheeks, she smiled broadly at Mrs. C., and said, "Oh, I have the perfect collar for her, then." Turning around, she rummaged through the rack of collars behind her, until she found the one she was looking for. Holding up a collar she asked, "How's this?"
The collar was black leather, with soft felt lining the inside, and it had silver studs around the outside of it. It also had several silver metal loops spaced around it. It was fastened together by a small silver fastener similar to a belt buckle. Pretending to think about it for a few seconds, Greg said, "I think that might do. Can you put in on her for me to make sure it fits?" he asked innocently.
Coloring a deeper red, Sara quickly replied "sure," and stepped forward until her body was almost touching Mrs. C's. She reached up and gently placed the collar around Mrs. C's neck, fastening it at the back. Her eyes remained fixed on Mrs. C's face the whole time, and she had a big smile on her lips. Mrs. C. was just as red as Sara was, but kept her eyes downcast the entire time. Greg noticed that Sara's hands seem to linger at her neck, and it seemed to take longer than it should to put a collar on. A thought began to form at the back of his head as he studied Sara's interaction with Mrs. C.
Finally Sara stepped back and asked, "Well, what do you think?"
Greg smiled at her and said, "It looks perfect. Do you mind if she keeps it on for a while? I can tell she really likes the feel of it."
"Sure," was the quick reply. "Is there anything else you need?" she asked expectantly.
"Well, as a matter of fact, there is," Greg answered grinning. Leaning forward he pretended to whisper to Sara, "She's also looking for nipple clamps."
Sara's grin broadened at hearing that, and she quickly led them to a display case several feet away. "We have several different types of nipple clamps. What type were you looking for?" For the first time since we walked into the store, Sara was finally looking at Greg. She felt a nervous anticipation, as she began to sense what their relationship might be, and it wasn't repulsing her.
"I'm looking for clamps which won't fall off easily. I want the kind that can be tightened as much as you want since Mrs. C. here likes having her nipples pinched hard. Also, I want them joined together by a chain, so that I can lead her around by her nipples like a dog. Do you have anything like that?" Greg asked questioningly.
Greg could see Sara was a bit shocked by his frankness, but he also thought she was getting a little excited by it, as well. She rummaged through the display case for several seconds, until she finally produced a small silver pair of clamps, joined together by a medium length chain. Holding them up, she nervously asked, "Will these do?"
"I don't know," Greg said shaking his head. "I need to make sure they'll stay on. I've never used nipple clamps before, so I'm not sure how to use them. Would you mind putting them on Mrs. C. here, so I can see how to do it and to make sure that they'll stay on?" he asked as innocently as possible.
Looking around nervously she stuttered, "Well....umm....I don't know......I don't want to get in trouble. You sure you want me to?"
"Absolutely" Greg quickly replied. "But perhaps it would be best to lock the door, so we are not interrupted."
"Oh, that's a good idea" she replied as she practically ran over to the front door and threw the bolt. As the bolt slid home, with an audible click, Mrs. C. practically jumped off the ground. With that sound, she realized that Greg had something planned for her and that being interrupted before he had a chance to put his plan into action was no longer a possibility.
Sara practically came bouncing back to stand in front of Mrs. C., waiting for their next move. "You know, Mrs. C., it'll be a lot easier for us if you remove that blouse. That way we can see how they'll look, once they're on. Don't you think?" Greg asked her pointedly.
With a note of terror in her voice, she replied "Yes Sir," and, with shaking hands, began to undo the buttons on her blouse. When, at last, the final button was undone, she paused, before slowly parting the cloth and shrugging the blouse from her shoulder. Taking the blouse from her and hanging it on a rack beside him, Greg took the opportunity to sneak a glance at Sara. He needn't have tried to be sneaky, since she had eyes only for Mrs. C's breasts. Her mouth hung open, as she gaped at the exposed flesh.
When it appeared Sara wasn't going to move, Greg cleared his throat and said, "Go ahead and put them on for me, please."
His words seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and, with shaking hands, she reached up for Mrs. C.'s left nipple. Grasping the already hardened nipple with one hand, she pulled out slightly as she applied the clamp with the other hand. Again, Sara's hands seem to linger on her breasts for several seconds, before relinquishing their hold on the nipple. Reaching up, with her left hand now, she did the same to Mrs. C's right nipple. Once both clamps were affixed, Sara stepped back to admire her handiwork. Her face was now flushed with excitement, and her breathing had quickened.
"Now, you said these clamps can be tightened. Can you show me how?" It was quite obvious how it was done, but Greg wanted to see how far he could push Sara.
"Sure," she quickly replied as she stepped forward again.
"I want you to tighten them both at the same time," Greg explained. "I'll tell you when to stop. You see, Mrs. C. here is often a very bad girl, and she requires frequent punishment. One thing she always begs me to do is to punish her nipples, so this was why I thought the clamps might be a good idea," Greg improvised. By this time, Sara had reached up and was starting to slowly turn the screws on the clamps. Greg watched in fascination, as the clamps slowly closed on the nipples, causing the tips to become engorged with blood. The tighter they got, the more agonized the look on Mrs. C's face became. By this time, Sara was transfixed on Mrs. C's face, watching the discomfort, and eventually pain, she was causing her. But to my amazement, she never stopped turning the screws.
Once Mrs. C. began to mewl in pain, Greg told Sara she could stop tightening the clamps. He almost chuckled out loud when he saw the look of disappointment pass over Sara's face. At this point, it was quite obvious to him that Sara was in to women, and that she was enjoying dominating Mrs. C. "Alright, I want you to lead Mrs. C. around the store, like the little whore that she is." Greg's words again startled Sara, but without any further encouragement from him, she grabbed the dangling chain and began walking about the store, giving them a tug, every now and then, to keep Mrs. C. on her toes. "Go ahead and call her 'whore', Sara. She likes being called that."
This had Sara practically skipping through the aisles, as she now began to coax Mrs. C. around the store like she was a dog. "Come on whore, follow me. Stay close, whore."
Finally she reluctantly led Mrs. C. back to where Greg had been standing and stood there holding the chain, waiting for his next cue.
"Is there anything else you'd like for your whore?" she asked expectantly.
It was quite obvious Sara was in to this whole scene, and would be a willing participant to whatever Greg had planned. "Now that you mention it Sara, there is," he calmly replied. "I find myself needing to spank my whore often, and I really don't have the proper tools for the job. Do you have anything here for that?"
"Definitely," she replied in a breathless voice. Still holding the chain, she led them over to a display case against the far wall. In it were numerous implements, ranging from whips to paddles.
"Wow! That is quite the selection. Again, I have to beg ignorance here Sara. I've never used any of this stuff. Would you mind indulging me a bit more?" Greg asked as innocently as possible.
With no hesitation, she quickly replied in the affirmative.
Pretending ignorance, Greg pointed to a small wooden paddle, resembling a ping pong paddle, and said, "How about that one?"
Finally dropping the chain, she reached into the case, pulled out the paddle, and held it out for Greg.
Shaking his head, he said, "Oh no, not me. I'm not sure how to use it. Would you mind showing me how it's used?"
At this, Sara practically licked her lips in anticipation. "Sure," was her only response.
"Whore, take your skirt off. Sara has very generously agreed to teach us how to use these things," Greg ordered.
"Yes sir," she replied shakily and, with one fluid movement, stepped out of her skirt and was once again holding it out to him.
Taking the skirt and hanging it with her blouse, Greg instructed, "Bend over and grab your ankles whore. Spread your feet apart. Wider." When she was suitably presented with her legs spread wide, opening up her newly shaven pussy and ass to both Greg and Sara, he added, "Now, do not release those ankles under any circumstances. Is that clear whore?"
Mrs. C. nodded her head, as she hung upside down and mumbled a meek, "yes Sir."
"I'm sure you realize what the consequences will be should you move," Greg added for good measure. Turning to Sara, he instructed, "Go ahead and show me how to use that. I want you to hit her ass as hard as you can. I'll tell you when to stop. Would that be alright?" Greg asked.
Nodding her head yes, she stepped up to Mrs. C.'s ass, and taking aim, brought the paddle down hard on her left cheek.
CRACK
The sound reverberated around the store. Greg needn't have worried about Sara holding back either, since it was quite evident she put everything into it. The force of the blow was almost enough to topple Mrs. C. Mrs. C. realized that, in order to not lose her balance, she would actually have to push back against the blow. This went against every fiber of her being, which just wanted to get away from the blow, not move towards it.
CRACK
CRACK
Sara continued her assault on Mrs. C's ass, alternating the blows to each cheek. In no time at all, both cheeks were completely red.
"Ok, that's enough," Greg finally said, after Sara had landed approximately 5 blows to each cheek. "What about that one, now?" Greg asked pointing to a leather cat-o-nine-tails.
Sara, now out of breath, simply put the paddle down, and quickly picked up the next device. No encouragement was needed from Greg, as she began laying in to Mrs. C.'s already reddened ass.
After another 10 blows from the cat-o-nine-tails, which left multiple red streaks across her ass, Greg again stopped Sara and pointed to the next implement. This one was a thin white cane.
Sara swished the cane through the air several times, before taking careful aim. As the cane made contact across both cheeks simultaneously, it sounded vaguely like the sound a bow makes when an arrow was fired.
THWACK
A god-awful shriek erupted from Mrs. C., as an angry red welt appeared where the cane had made contact. Tears were flowing freely now as Mrs. C. practically danced on the spot in pain. To her credit, she didn't let go of her ankles, but Greg could see she wouldn't be able to take much more from the cane.
"Just one more with the cane will do, Sara," he instructed.
Without even thinking about it, Sara replied, "yes Sir," and then brought the cane down across Mrs. C's ass once more.
Another THWACK followed by a blood-curdling scream.
"Ok, just one more device I want you to demonstrate for me Sara." Greg pointed to a medium sized leather crop, which appeared to have a good amount of flex in its shaft.
Sara was completely flushed with excitement, and was breathing heavily, as she returned the cane and grabbed the crop. Once again, she swished it through the air several times to get a feel for it before landing a beautiful hit to Mrs. C's left ass cheek. She quickly followed that with another hit to the other ass cheek. As she continued her assault on the ass, Mrs. C. was by now a blubbering mess as she cried and mewled in pain. There also was a very strong smell of sex in the air, and Greg noted, with a grin, that Mrs. C's inner thighs were soaked with her juices.
Here she was, bent over naked in front of a strange girl, not much older than her own daughter, with clamps killing her nipples, and her ass a blistered mass of welts, and yet, she was getting turned on by the abuse and humiliation.
"Sara?" Greg asked, causing her to pause in her strokes, "Hold up for a second please."
"Whore, I want you to reach back with both hands and pull your ass cheeks apart for Sara." When she had done as requested, further humiliating herself in front of this stranger, Greg continued. "Sara, I want you to hit her asshole with that crop, as hard as you can. Are you Ok with that?" he asked.
"Oh, yes Sir," she quickly replied, licking her lips in anticipation. Taking aim, she brought the crop down hard right on the exposed bud.
SMACK
"Ahhh" Mrs. C. bellowed, knees beginning to buckle from the torment. Again, to her credit, she kept her hands in place holding her cheeks apart. Greg could tell she was close, and just needed a little nudge to push her over the edge.
"Ok Sara, just one more stroke. This time, I want you to do an under-hand swing and hit her right on her clit and pussy lips."
"Yes Sir," she replied. No coercion was needed here.
When Mrs. C. had settled down and stopped moving, Sara took careful aim, and after several practice swings, brought the crop up hard right on Mrs. C's wet pussy lips.
SMACK
Mrs. C's head snapped up, as her knees quickly buckled under her. All thoughts to keeping her hands on her asscheeks were long forgotten, as she crumpled to the ground, a low keening sound coming from her, with her hands buried deep in her tortured pussy. She began to convulse and shake on the floor, as a powerful orgasm ripped through her body.
But, the story line seems mixed up, from reading it before.
Love it. I have been trying to find this again on a previous site, to NO avail.