7 comments/ 69647 views/ 15 favorites Punishment: The Whore's P.O.V. Ch. 01 By: LadyM12 I could not believe you fucked her. I had been living with you for a month, and I never left the house unless you sent me on errands or took me somewhere. I was at your disposal, available to you whenever you wanted me, for anything. And you exercised your right as my Master frequently, often making me drop whatever I was do to please you or to be used by you. You were sometimes brutal, but you never endangered my safety or abused me more than I could stand. My mouth, my cunt, my ass were ready for you anytime you wished. Why on earth did you fuck her? True, you are the Master and I am the whore, and you have no rules beyond the limits we agreed upon when I came to you, so you could do whatever you wanted. But you had me. "Why would you fuck that slut from work, when I am always waiting, always willing to serve you?" I asked staring up from you at the kitchen floor with tears in my eyes. You had just walked in, and I was holding in my hand a copy of the email you had sent her yesterday. You knew I had gone snooping, rage boiling in your face, and I had hit floor to prevent you from knocking me down. "Why?" I repeated. Through your clenched jaw you finally spoke: "You nosey whore. You don't control me, I control you!" With that you grabbed me by the hair. I crawled quickly to keep from having my hair torn out. You shoved me into our bedroom. "You're going to stay here tonight while I go out. It's Friday, and I'm not going to miss an evening with my friends just because you need to be punished. Filthy slut. I'll deal with you when I get home." You shut the door and I heard you lock it from the outside. Being sent to our room was usually the first step in my punishment when I had committed a grievous error, and you knew how much I hated it. "Don't even think about touching your cunt, whore. I can always tell when my bitch has been in heat." And then I heard you leave the house. I trembled with rage and fear. I was going to be punished because you cheated on me? No. Not this time. My ego badly bruised and my heart shattered, I decided that if you could fuck around, then so could I. You had installed a lock on the bedroom door, but you had never secured the windows, knowing that I adored you, and thinking I would never try to escape. But you were wrong. I went to our closet to look at what few articles of clothing you had let me keep when I came to you. Not much, and all very suggestive. I rarely wore clothes in the house, only if we were having guests, and everyone knew I was yours. It didn't matter though. I was going to go out and get fucked. I knew you wouldn't be back until the early hours of the morning, so I could sneak out and come back and you would never know. And if I was going to be punished, I wanted to deserve it. Red button down blouse, black skirt, stockings, heels and a black lace thong. No bra. You hadn't let me keep any. "You're a whore," you had said. "I want you to look like one." I grabbed a small purse and took twenty dollars from your underwear drawer. I felt a twinge of guilt taking it, but I needed enough money to get a cab back home incase I ended up across town. I certainly wasn't going to need it for drinks. I slipped out the window with only a little difficulty, due to the short skirt. For the first time in a month, I was not where you knew me to be. I felt naked, as though I had lost your protection. But I was determined. I took a deep breath and walked the fairly short distance to the seedy bar where all the town trash went on a Friday night. I knew you wouldn't be there; you would be at a friend's house playing poker until the wee hours of the morning. I made it to the bar in record time, since it was already dark and I had been whistled at by at least a half dozen men. "Why shouldn't they whistle?" I thought. "I look like a whore." But rape wasn't what I had in mind. No, I wanted to go to another man freely, and punish you for going to another woman. This was payback. The bar wasn't packed, but there were enough people for me to know that someone would take an interest in me. Most of the women seated at the bar looked to be over fifty. At twenty years old, I knew I was going to be the catch of the night. I sat down at the bar, and before the bartender could make it over to me a man sat down next to me and called for two tequilas. He smiled at me. "Tequila isn't my drink," I told him with a smile, "But if you're paying I'm game." He looked to be about fifty, not quite as tall as you but heavier set. "If I'm paying," he said with a twinkle in his dark eye, "Then what are you game for?" "Fuck," I thought. "He thinks I'm a whore." I picked up the shot glass which the barkeep had set in front of me and downed it as fast as I could, hoping to steel my nerves. All it did was burn my throat. I looked the stranger square in the eye and before I knew what I was saying, I told him, "I'm not a whore; I'm slut, so you don't have to pay." His eyes widened. He drank his own shot of tequila. I inhaled raggedly. He called for two more shots, but didn't say another word to me. We drank the tequila quickly, and then he reached for my hand and whispered, "Let's go." I rose, my knees barely supporting me, and we headed for the door. But there you were, your rage greater than I had ever seen it before. "Oh God," I thought, "He's going to kill me." The man at my side dropped my hand, mumbled some apology to you, and returned to the bar. I don't know how long we stood looking at each other. Finally I spoke: "How did you find me?" "I know where whores go around here when they're hungry for some cock." I winced. You grabbed my wrist – painfully – and pulled me outside. I thought you were going to take me home, but was surprised when you hauled me into a dark alley behind the bar. "Filthy bitch!" You tore open my blouse, buttons flying everywhere. "Please baby," I cried, "I'm sorry, I don-" "Shut up!" You spun me around and slammed me against the wall. My delicate tits scraped against the bricks as you hauled my skirt over my ass. "Is this what you wanted? Huh? You whore! You wanted to get fucked outside some bar, like the filthy slut you are? Huh?" "Please, I'm so sorry," I cried. "I'm so sorry, please..." "Shut up!" You slammed me against the wall again. "You wanna get fucked? Well I'll oblige you then!" You grabbed the material of my thong, twisted and pulled, the fabric cutting into the most sensitive parts of my body. I screamed as it broke loose from my body. "Shut the fuck up, I'm going to give you something to scream about." You stuffed two fingers deep inside my cunt, and even though I was wet it stretched me uncomfortably. "Fucking slut," you spat. "Your slimy cunt's ready to get fucked isn't it? You couldn't wait for that old fuck to stuff his cock in you." You pumped my cunt a few more time with your fingers, hurting me but also turning me on. You heard me moan. "Fucking cunt! This is turning you on! We'll see how you like this...." You pressed your two fingers, covered in my cunt juices, against my tiny puckered asshole. Usually when you take my ass you are gentle and patient, waiting for me to open to you. But this was punishment. "Take it you bitch, take my fingers up your ass, because my cock is next." You twisted your fingers cruelly, and I began to cry. "Go ahead, slut," you growl, "Cry all you want. I'm going to rape your asshole." "No!" I sobbed. You tore your fingers from my sore hole and brought your hand down on my ass. *SMACK* My tits scraped against the brick wall as I jumped. "Don't you EVER tell me no!" *SMACK* You slapped the other cheek. "You understand me?" I hesitated. *SMACK* "Yes Master," I cried, defeated. "You cunt. Brace yourself." You spread my burning ass cheeks roughly and drove your cock deep into my asshole, slamming my entire body against the brick wall. I cried out, and you grabbed a fistful of my hair. "You bitch; you're going to take it. All of it." You leaned down and bit the side of my neck, as you continued to pound into my ass. My cries became grunts as I started to adjust to your cock stretching me. "You dirty whore, you're liking this, aren't you? Answer me!" A breathless "Yes Master" was all I could manage. You continued to fuck me in silence, our moans and heavy breathing filling the air around us. My body betrayed me. You were trying to hurt me, to punish me, to remind me of who was in control, and I experienced pleasure through the pain. The burning in my ass was unbearable, but I didn't want you to stop. You picked up your pace, you body slamming me into the wall faster, and faster; harder and harder, your balls slapping my drenched cunt in time. I don't know if you fucked me for three minutes or thirty, but when you came you filled my bowels with your liquid seed and bit my shoulder, drawing blood. We stood there for several moments, catching out breath until you finally slid your cock from my asshole. I moaned at the loss, and the pain. I sank to the ground, my knees unable to support me. You usually loved me, comforted me after intense, painful sex, but you leaned against the wall and bowed your head, as though praying to some dark god. Finally you spoke: "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go back into that dive and tell every middle-aged fuck in there that there's a slut waiting in the alley to get her ass fucked." I started crying again. "Answer me now, or I'm going to get them." I grabbed your leg and held onto you with all the strength I had left. I looked up at you, tears rolling down my face, make up smeared everywhere, and I answered: "Because I'm yours, Master." I buried my face against your leg and started crying uncontrollably, afraid that my simple answer would not sway you. But you didn't leave. You waited for my tears to subside, and when most of my sobbing had stopped, you said simply: "I still have to punish you for hacking into my email." © MCW 2006 Punishment: The Whore's P.O.V. Ch. 02 The ride home was short; but terribly, agonizingly long. You didn't speak a word to me, but I could see the tension in the muscles of your jaw. I was in for a long night. You didn't open the passenger door for me when we arrived home, and I felt foolish sitting there while you walked past me. You didn't wait for me at the front door either. I was no match for your long strides in my stripper heels. When I walked in, you were standing by the fire place, which was blazing. "Strip," you commanded, "just put the heels back on after you get your stockings off." What was left of the stockings, anyway. They had been torn up by the rough bricks you had fucked me against. I did as you instructed, sliding my arms out of the now buttonless red blouse. You cringed when you saw the scrapes all over my lovely tits. Next the skirt. It slid over my hips easily. There was no discreet way to remove my stocking without any panties on, so I decided I might as well give you a show. I propped one foot up on the coffee table and unbuckled my shoe, giving you a nice view of my bald cunt. I had rolled the stocking halfway down my calf when you said, "That's enough performing, slut. Just get them off." I reddened, and hurriedly removed the other shoe and stocking. Then I replaced my shoes, as instructed. I looked at you, awaiting further instruction. "Burn them." I cocked my head to one side, quizzically. The stockings and blouse were ruined, but there was nothing wrong with my skirt other than the spot where cum had leaked out of my ass on the way home, and we already knew that cum comes out in the wash. "Don't make me repeat myself," you growled. I quickly tossed the bundle into the fire. It smoked and I coughed. We watched the fabric melt away. "I don't want any reminders of what happened tonight," I could hardly bear the pain in your eyes. But damnit! You fucked her! You saw me ice over and grabbed a fistful of my long hair. "C'mon, slut, time for round two of your punishment." You pulled me down the stairs to the basement, where you'd made a makeshift dungeon by padding the walls. No one outside could hear my screams. I started to beg for mercy: "Please Master, you already punished me. Once you punish me you're supposed to forgive me. Please-" A sharp jerk to my head shut me up. "That was for running away, and trying to fuck another man. I forgive you for that, my slut; because I know whores like you can't control themselves. All they think about are their slutty little cunts. But now you need to be punished for snooping." In the middle of our "dungeon" was a bar stool; a little odd, but not the least bit intimidating. On the far wall, however, was your bullwhip, a souvenir from your days on the farm. On the shelf were some other tools: a spreader bar with shackles, a pair of handcuffs, dildos of various shapes, sizes and materials. But the bullwhip. The bullwhip made me shudder whenever I saw it. You led me over to the bar stool and told me to assume the position. I bent my body over the stool so that my ass was high in the air, my belly on the seat, and my tits swung free. All my holes were accessible to you in this position, and my heels brought my ass and pussy up to the perfect fucking height for you. First you cuffed my hand around the wrung of the barstool. Next you roughly kicked my legs apart and attached the spreader bar to my ankle, my legs so wide apart that if the stool had not supported me I would have fallen on my face. Then you stood back to admire your handiwork. "Well, whore... you must be punished, there's no way around it. You have violated our trust, and you know how important trust is to me." You squatted down in front of me, bringing us to eye level. "Haven't I always told you that we have to trust one another?" I couldn't speak. How dare you lecture to me about trust? "Well whore, I think the bullwhip is called for." You sprang up and took it off the wall stroking the leather as though it were a lover. You walked behind me. I waited silently for my sentence. "Fifteen," you pronounced. "You are going to take fifteen lashes, whore, and I'm not going to go easy. Count them. You don't have to thank me." *CRACK* "One Master!" You hadn't lied. You'd never lashed me so hard. *CRACK* "OWW Master two!" *CRACK* *CRACK* "Three, four, oh God please..." *CRACK* "Five!" My voice cracked. *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* Six, seven, and eight followed quickly, and I gasped and cried as I counted. *CRACK* "Nine, Master, please no more-" *CRACK* I screamed as I felt number ten slice my skin open. I couldn't count, I couldn't breathe; the searing pain was the center of my universe. I felt a trickle of blood run down my ass cheek and leg. I waited for eleven. It never came. I sensed that somewhere behind me you were trying to regain control. Finally you spoke: "I'm not going to continue. Ten is enough. But your little cunt is dripping. Let's see if we can satisfy it." I tried to relax my pussy muscles, expecting you to drive your thick cock into my wet core. I screamed again when I felt something sharp tear into me. "STOP that," I screamed. The object paused, but only long enough for your hand to come crashing down on my burning red ass cheek. "Stop? Does my cunt tell me to stop? Does she tell me no? NO! My cunt takes it. Scream all you want. I'll fuck you with anything I want, you piece of shit whore! And if you don't like the handle of my whip tearing you up, then I'll just fuck you harder." You began again, harder. In the back of my mind I understood: you were fucking me with the handle of the bullwhip, and the dried leather knot on the end was what was scratching at my delicate pussy muscles. You rubbed my clit until I came, my orgasm squeezing the muscles of my cunt around the cruel leather, cutting the soft tissue even deeper. You left the whip inside of me and walked around to my front. You roughly grabbed my face and began stroking your cock in and out of my mouth and throat. I was not giving you a blow job; you were fucking my face. I tried to relax my throat muscles because I knew that if I puked on your dick there would be hell to pay. My entire body was starting to relax, setting in to the rhythm of you fucking me, when I heard the door behind me open. I tensed up. You obviously knew whoever had entered our home, because you continued fucking my throat until a petite blonde appeared at your side. My God. She was gorgeous. Tiny frame, blonde hair not quite long as mine, and perky breasts with pink nipples. I hated the sight of her. You pulled your cock from my mouth just as someone behind me yanked the bullwhip from my cunt, making me scream again as it tore out of me. "Master, please tell me what's going on, please," I cried to you. "It's simple, whore. Heather here is going to suck my cock, and then I'm going to fuck her. And you're going to watch. And just so you don't feel left out, Ryan is going to fuck you as well." You reached for a blindfold and slid it over Heather's eyes. Heather. I hated the bitch. Was she the one at work you were fucking? "Hey Shane, this cunt's bleeding." Ryan inspected my raw pussy. "Can I have her ass?" "Don't worry about it, man, it's fresh. Besides, her ass has already had all it can take tonight." You grinned and I heard Ryan chuckle. You guided Heather to her knees, and she sucked on your glorious cock. I was about to cry from the agony of seeing you enjoy another woman, when Ryan thrust his cock into me, causing me to grunt. He wasn't as thick as you, but after the bullwhip anything would have hurt my cunt. He fucked me hard and deep, as you bent Heather over me, her tits sticking in my face, and slid your dick into her ass. She moaned a bit. I resisted the urge to spit in her face, knowing that it would only make my punishment worse. You fucked her ass as hard as Ryan was fucking my torn cunt. I could see and hear your heavy balls slapping her leaking pussy, and I moaned, hating that another woman's juices were going to coat my Master's precious balls. I panicked as I felt Ryan's balls tighten. He was close. "Please Master," I squeaked out, "You said you'd never let another man cum in me." You snapped your head up and growled at Ryan: "Not in her!" "Then where, man?" Ryan grunted as he continued to pummel my insides. "Heather. She'll swallow your load." Ryan gave me two last hard thrusts before pulling out of my worn pussy. He grabbed Heather's face, and dumped his cum down her throat. Stupid bitch, I thought. It serves her right. I was then that I realized you were cumming too. My heart broke to see you release what was mine into another woman's ass. I was jealous. I shouldn't have been. As soon as you finished cumming inside her you turned her around and helped her lean forward, sticking her ass in my face. "Eat it," you commanded. I grimaced, but I slowly began to lap at the bitch's asshole and cunt, where some cum had run out. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was licking your cum of your stomach, as I sometimes did, but the flavor of the woman's asshole was unmistakable. Before long I had gathered every drop. "Now make her cum," you told me. I stuck my entire face in her cunt, lapping and sucking and gently biting. It didn't take long for her to cum with my tongue in her cunt. You took her blindfold off, and Ryan silently led her out of the room. You came towards me, your semi hard cock bobbing in front of my face, still glistening. You placed your cock against the side of my nose. I could smell cum, cunt, and ass all at once. Your balls were right in front of my mouth. "You know what to do," you whispered. I slowly, lovingly took your balls in my mouth, one at a time, and laved them with my tongue, cleansing them of that cunt's juices. Then you slipped your dick between my lips. I was beyond the point of being disgusted by the taste of her ass, so I dutifully cleaned your cock. Unfortunately for me, my tongue wiggling over your cock had made you hard again. "Oh baby," you moaned, "I have to cum in you one more time, and you'll be forgiven." Thinking you intended to cum in my mouth, I started flicking your head with my tongue. "No baby," you whispered. "There's only one hole that hasn't had my cum tonight." You walked behind me. You sighed as you spread my cunt open with your thumbs. It was bloody and red. "Oh my poor baby. Let Daddy fuck it better." With great care at first, you slid your thick cock into my sore tunnel. Ryan's fucking had loosened me some, but your cock still rubbed painfully against the welts inside me. "Please Master, it hurts so bad..." I whimpered. "Oh baby yeah, I'm close. Don't worry honey I'm almost there..." A few more thrusts and I felt your hot spray of cum soak my cunt. The unbearable burning sensation, as your salty cum coated the cuts inside me, was the last thing I felt before I fainted. *** I awoke several minutes later, cradled in your arms in a tub of hot soapy water. You were gently fingering my pussy, working the warm water in to soothe the welts and rid me of your burning cum. I could also feel the wound on my ass cheek where the whip had sliced me open, and my scraped tits were stinging as well. You knew I had become conscious when you heard my soft sobs and felt my body tremble against yours. "What is it, love?" you cooed. "It stings. It all stings." I sobbed violently then, twisting my body and throwing my arms around your neck. "Shh, sweetheart. You'll be healed in a few days, and in will be over, it will be all gone." You stroked my hair. "No," I shook my head. "It will never be gone. You fucked her. That woman at work. It will never be the same." Tears poured down my cheeks. "I love you, I need you, but I didn't know if I can ever trust you again." I buried my face in our neck and cried harder than I had since childhood. "Look," you took my face in your hands and brought me to eye level. "I set you up. It was a test, and you failed. YOU didn't trust ME enough to stay out of my business. It was all fake. There is no woman at work, darling; I emailed myself." My eyes widened. "Fuck!" I swore. You laughed at me then, hugging me close to you. "You're so cute." I let you cradle me for a moment, before I sat up and looked at you again. "And Heather?" "She's Ryan's girlfriend. They wanted to try something a little kinky..." Your voice trailed off as you stroked my cheek. "The water's getting cold." © MCW 2007