2 comments/ 33556 views/ 7 favorites A Sting in the Tail By: officer_dibble Our relationship was going in a totally different direction to what I had ever imagined. It had started out as just two people having some fun, granted it was what many people would consider perverted fun, but harmless fun in reality. But now, it was as if we were both on an express train to sado-masochistic depravity. The really scary thing was of course that neither of us new where the final destination would be, but neither of us wanted to get off. And now as I waited for you to answer the door, the train was going to speed up some more, I just hope it did not leave the tracks. You open the door, dressed as I had instructed. My favourite leather under bust corset, black of course, pushing your beautiful breasts up and outwards. I could still see the faint red marks from when I had used the flogger to torture them the last time we were together. As instructed you were wearing stockings, attached with suspenders to the corset, but no panties. Your freshly shaved cunt glowed pink from the obvious recent attention from your razor. The whole stunning effect was emphasised by the black patent shoes with the 4" heels. I pushed your front door open wide and ordered you to stand in the doorway and step back onto the pavement. Anybody walking past would see you for what you are, a slut who just wanted to be fucked. I could see you glancing either side and also to houses across the road for signs of curtain movement. But despite your discomfort, you did not move. That pleased me greatly. "Let's go inside." I instructed to your obvious relief. You automatically stand in the centre of the room and assume the classic submissive position with your hands linked behind your head and your feet slightly apart. I walk up to you and stroke your cheek with the back of my hand. You respond to this by tilting your head slightly and closing your eyes. "Tonight I am going to push and extend your boundaries. I am going to test your love of pain to the limit." You shudder at my words. "You can do to me whatever you want. No safe word, no limits. I trust you will not permanently harm me. A few weeks ago I would also have told you not to permanently mark me, but now I am not sure even about denying that to you." I was not surprised at your admission; I knew we were moving to a completely different level in terms of your limits and boundaries. "Do you want to be blindfolded and gagged?" I ask. "Gag me please, but I want to see what you are going to do to me." You reply. "You may change your mind once you see what is in my bag." "Why? Please don't have any needles in there." You obediently open your mouth to accept the ball gag and I secure it snugly, making sure you are comfortable but unable to talk. Your eyes widen as I take out a pair of leather gloves and slowly pull them on. I reach into the bag and take out my surprise for you, rolled in newspaper. I watch your face for your reaction as I un-wrap the newspaper to reveal a bunch of freshly cut nettles. I could swear I detected a smile, even behind the gag. I take one of the nettle stalks and approach you. "Do you want to be tied up?" I ask. You shake your head in response. I raise the nettle towards your tit and you look straight into my eyes in defiance and take a step forward bring your tit into contact with the nettle. Immediately small red bumps appear on the flesh of your breast. "My, my you are an eager pain slut tonight. Stay still and be patient." I slide the nettle over the other tit, making a nice line of red bumps in its track. You thrust out your tits, demanding more. I pick up a few more nettles and touch your nipple, making you wince and a tear starts to run down your face. I brush the nettles repeatedly over both your nipples, and your tears are now streaming continuously. Even when I stop, I know that the soreness from the nettle stings is continuing. I can see that you want to scratch the soreness, to try and relieve the pain, but you dare not move without permission. I take a red and white polka dot thong from my bag and instruct you to step into them, and I raise them up your legs to cover your cunt and arse. This surprises you. I hardly ever let you wear anything to deny me access to your cunt and arse. With my back to you, I break off the tops of the remaining nettles, about 3 inches in length. Turning towards you, I look straight into your tear strained eyes as I stuff the nettles down the front of the thong. I have to wrap my arm around your back to stop you stepping back. I kiss your tears on your cheek as I rub the front of your thong, making sure the nettles grind into your cunt lips and clitoris. I instruct you to walk around the room, no mean feat at the best of times in the 4" heels, but made even more difficult with the nettles stuffed down the front of your thong. Each step I can see is painful for you, each step causes you to wince and the tears stream down both cheeks. You look at me imploring me to tell you to stop. "Push the nettles into your cunt and keep walking." I instruct you, enjoying every moment of your obvious discomfort. You place a hand on your mound and start to rub yourself through the thin fabric of the thong. "Stand still and face me, but keep rubbing." You obey without question. Your hips start to move in time with your fingers. It is obvious that your have found your own clitoris and are rubbing it and are getting aroused. I am amazed that you are able to mix pain with pleasure so well. "Stop, you are enjoying this too much." You immediately cease your attention given to your clitoris. "Take off the thong." Once again you obey immediately and without question and place your hands behind your head without my bidding. Good girl I think to myself. Your cunt lips are all puffy and swollen and an angry red in colour. The nettles have done their job well. "Go and lie down on your bed, spread your legs wide in readiness for me." I wait five minutes before following you upstairs. As instructed you are lying on the bed, with your legs spread wide apart. In this position I can see how inflamed your cunt lips really are, so much so that your clitoris is totally hidden, despite your wide legged position. I take out the flogger from my bag and position myself at the end of the bed, with your swollen cunt just a foot or so away from me. Our eyes meet as you realise my intentions. You nod in acceptance and try to relax, as if your are trying to zone out in readiness for the flogging to come. I raise the flogger and bring it down squarely on your red raw cunt, not too hard. The next stroke is slightly harder, and I can hear a muffled cry through the ball gag. Again I raise the flogger, and bring it down harder still. Despite the redness of your cunt, there are thing welts from the flogger. Your head shakes from side to side as I continue to flog your cunt, making it redder and more swollen. But I know that you are not shaking your head to get me to stop, not that I would anyway. I am like a man possessed as I flog your cunt harder and harder. You raise your hips to meet every stroke, and try to spread your legs wider to give the thin strips of leather better access. Eventually my arm grows tired and I have to stop. I had flogged your cunt harder and much for longer than I had originally intended. Your cunt lips are so swollen that it is difficult to see your slit, despite your recent shaving. "You know how much I love to fuck you up your arse; it is so tight and responsive. But tonight, your cunt is swollen and hopefully now almost as tight as your arse hole. I am going to fuck you to find out." I quickly undress and get on the bed, positioning myself between your legs, with my cock just inches away from your cunt. Your eyes are wide with terror as the head of my cock approaches your cunt. I place the head at the entrance to your cunt and slowly start to push. Your swollen cunt lips refuse to part at first and only open up as I increase the pressure. Slowly, your cunt accepts my cock, but I can tell from your reaction that it is causing you extreme discomfort. Once past the swollen lips, the slickness inside betrays your obvious arousal. I start to thrust, slowly at first. With each thrust, you wince in pain. This pleases me and encourages me to thrust faster and deeper. My pubic hair just adds to your pain as I slide all the way in and grind myself against you. I can feel myself building towards my climax, and the tears rolling down your cheeks just spur me on, harder and faster. I come with a sudden rush, arching my back as I grind my pubic hair onto your cunt to aggravate the hurt and swelling even more. As I remove the ball gag, I hold you close to me, wiping away the tears, trying to sooth you. "Thank you" is all I can say. A Sting in the Tail I felt a thrill of anticipation as I rang the doorbell. The house was nice; old, in a big garden, no neighbours nearby. I was dressed as agreed, as if I'd just been to the gym. The door opened, and there he was, wide smile, welcoming; he was in light jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that showed off his lean muscles, and looked very good. She was stunning; short white halter top, blue cotton lycra workout pants, ending at the knee. Her legs were nicely shaped, and I could see smooth muscles moving under the thin cotton as she entered. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes were bright, alive, and I could tell she was as excited as I was. I went past him into the hall. My left hand brushed, accidentally of course, against the front of his jeans. He gave a smile; we were on the same wavelength. It felt as if something amazing was ahead of us. I enjoyed the view as she walked to the end of the hall, felt a tingle of anticipation as she turned and looked back at me. "Up the stairs, first room on the left." I just managed to keep my hands off her marvellous backside, which looked so enticing as she climbed the stairs in front of me. She looked back at me as she reached the top of the stairs, fully aware of the effect she was having. The room we were in was large, square and sparely lit. The walls were dark, and two areas were highlighted with small spotlights. What I saw there gave me tingles in the pit of my stomach; I even shuddered slightly, and caught my breath. It was perfect. She stopped in the doorway, and drew in her breath. It looked pretty good, I had to admit, and it was clearly having the desired effect. A large, padded couch without back or arms, but with a little leather loop in each corner, was dead centre, illuminated by a single spotlight. On the left, a table laid with a variety of interesting implements : a bundle of canes, a few leather belts of varying thickness, a couple of wooden paddles, a thicker, shorter cane with a leather tip, a cat o' nine tails, and a long bundle of birch rods tied together. I slipped off my shoes, padded on bare feet over to the table, and ran my hands over the assembled toys. I swished one of the canes, felt the weight of a couple of the belts, smacking one off my thigh, watching for his reaction. He licked his lips. I smiled. Got you. Then I hefted the birch rods, swung them into my hand. They were heavy. It stung. "I haven't tried this before. Could we?" I watched as she tried one of the belts, giving her thigh a quick taste, eyes on me the whole time. I felt my breathing quicken. God, she was exciting. Then she picked up my newest acquisition, the Swedish birch. She wanted to try it out. I pictured myself swinging it, the birch twigs making contact with that perfect behind. "Maybe we will. We'll have to see how we get on. Let's get started. Lie down on the bench." She licked her lips, walked quickly to the bench and laid herself face down. She eased herself on, stretched out and grasped the two small loops of leather at the end. I leaned down and she started a little as I took each ankle in turn and pulled it towards a corner, attached a loop of leather to each. The bench was nicely padded and felt cool against my stomach and legs. I knew the position would make the most of my bottom, and I knew it would ensure that I felt each and every blow to the full. Suddenly I felt his hand on my left ankle, pulling it sideways. He slipped a little loop round it, then did the same for my other leg. The feeling of being tied down, controlled, made me feel strange; excited and aroused. I was his, absolutely at his mercy. I was more than ready for what was to come as he announced his intention and picked up one of the canes. "A little touch of the cane first, I think." I picked up a thin, whippy cane and took my position, but stopped to take in the picture before me. Her white top stopped a good six inches above the trousers, which were tight across her rounded, full buttocks, accentuating them superbly. Her legs, stretched out, looked superb. I had a sudden urge to climb between them and rip off the thin cotton. I resisted manfully, and instead rested the cane across the highest point of both cheeks, tapped it quickly, lightly. I was pleased to see a small reaction, her muscles jumping slightly. Unable to stop myself, I ran my hand over the smooth contours of her bottom, imagining the effect of the cane, the belt, the birch on it. I had another urge, to deliver an old-fashioned spanking across my knee. Perhaps another time. Right now there were other pleasures waiting. I gave her bottom a smart slap, stood back and swished the cane through the air a couple of times, enjoying the noise it made. She had clearly heard that sound before; I saw a smile appear on her lips. He was clearly besotted with the vision of me stretched out before him. As he stroked the contours of my bottom I looked over my shoulder at him. I had spent a lot of effort getting my body to look as I wanted, and I knew how enticing I was to him. I was no stranger to the cane either, or the belt, but I was looking forward to tasting the birch for the first time. I got the feeling that I wouldn't be spared that particular rod. He gave my behind a good slap, which rang out in the silent room. I smiled, enjoying the anticipation. Then he swished the cane a couple of times, for effect, which widened my smile. I turned my head, made eye contact. This was going to be something special, I could tell. She turned her head to look at me and her ponytail moved across her shoulder, dark hair contrasting with her white top. I gave her a tight smile, raised the cane high and brought it down hard across the tight cotton. He brought the cane down with a swish, and the searing, burning pain made me draw my breath. He raised his arm again - swish! and another blistering pain, in exactly the same place. The thin cotton gave me little protection. Despite myself I let out a slight whimper. Another stroke, then another, in quick succession. I arched my back, let out a cry. The muscles in her back tensed and she jerked her head upwards, cried out. She squirmed delightfully, moving her backside from side to side as I brought the thin cane down across both rounded globes. After six more hard strokes I put the cane down, picked up a leather belt, split at the end into three; a Lochgelly Tawse. I rested it on her rounded bottom, moved it back and forth, giving her a feel of the shiny, worn leather. He picked up a short tawse, though not the thickest one. It was still going to hurt though. He laid it across both cheeks, let it rest there for a moment, then moved it across the target area. I nearly begged him to start, but held my tongue. The leather felt heavy, and smooth, through the thin cotton, and cool against the heat that the cane had raised. She was ready. I raised the short length of leather high and cracked it, hard, across both cheeks. She cried out, and her bottom pushed into the cushion and then jerked upwards. I couldn't resist such a tempting target and the next stroke followed quickly, harder then the first, searing a broad path across the thin, tight cotton. She moaned delightfully, and her head sank forward. Two more hard strokes of the polished leather brought forth a low moan, another stroke then another, harder than the rest, and a final, extra hard crack which made her cry out and grind her hips into the padded bench. Then I laid the belt down. I expected the belt to sting, and it did, again and again, the leather searing a path of pain and heat across my backside. It had another impact, greater than the pain - a churning deep inside as my lust, my sex, built and gathered. I moaned, which made him bring the leather down with greater force. My arse was burning. It was everything I had dreamed. Another crack! of the leather, harder than before, god how it stung; then he really let rip with a final crack! full across the tight cotton which stretched across my now burning behind. I cried out and pushed my hips down, away from the hard, punishing blows. He stopped and laid the belt down. I took in a deep, shuddering breath. My backside was on fire; I wanted it to stop, but needed more. I moved on the bench, squirming and moving my legs together. I had to have more. I stopped, and looked down at her; she was moving her bottom from side to side, moving her legs together and seemed to be lost to the world around her. "If we're going to try the birch, we'll need to get rid of the gym gear. Take it off." There was a touch of steel in his voice, which increased the excitement. I stood up, a bit stiffly, and took off the halter top. As instructed, there was no bra. My breasts were pert, nipples like rock. I eased the trousers down as gently as I could over my stinging backside, stepped out of them, and stood in front of him. Unable to stop myself, my hands went to my burning, smarting bottom. It felt hot, and I could guess how it looked. She was superb. Her trim body was beautifully muscled, and as she held her smarting bottom with her hands and held my eyes with her direct, unflinching gaze the desire to fuck her there and then was almost too strong to bear. Keeping my eyes on her, I took off my t-shirt and jeans. My light cotton trunks were straining, a bulge telling her what she wanted to know about my state of readiness. But there was a script, and we had to keep to it. "Back on the bench." I ordered. She climbed on once more, assumed the position, and looked back at me. Naked and stretched out on the bench, her body looked superb. Her breasts were full and pert. Her waist was thin, and the muscles of her back were taut. Her backside was full, rounded, voluptuous. And very red. Her smoothly muscled legs were trembling slightly with anticipation. I looked back over my shoulder. I could see the way he was looking at my body. He was mine, and we both knew it. "Make it as hard as you like." I told him, looking him in the eye. "I can take it." The bulge in his pants grew. He took his position, raised the birch, and ...for a few seconds, nothing, then a hundred points of burning pain assaulted my already smarting backside. I drew in my breath. The pain was worse, and more wonderful, than anything I had ever experienced. I jerked my backside upwards, purely out of reflex. The first stroke, right across her full, rounded bottom, made her gasp and she gave an involuntary jerk, presenting herself so beautifully that I couldn't resist. I brought the birch down harder, eliciting a cry of pain, and she ground her hips in to the bench, arched her back, head up. The second stroke was even harder, and I cried out. The third followed immediately; I writhed from side to side, in an ecstasy of pain. Again, the bundle of rods burned my backside, an all-encompassing fire making me cry out again. Then nothing, for a heartbeat, two heartbeats. He was playing with me. "Please.." I moaned. Then the birch fell again, covering, flooding my backside with pain, sweet, sweet pain. It was like a hundred canes at the same time. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I didn't want it to stop. The birch twigs were long, and spread fully across both cheeks; after the first few I paused between blows, relishing the effect on her bottom, and allowing the thin red strokes that covered her juddering buttocks to fade to a dull red. I knew the pain wasn't fading as quickly. She was gasping with pain and moaning with - what - pleasure? - her body writhed across the padded bench, her legs rubbing together, her bottom pressing down into the cushion then raising as if for more. I tried to time my downstroke to meet her bottom when it was presented at its best. Each time I did she cried out, and arched her back, pressing downwards with a strong, involuntary reaction. I lost count of the blows, which rained down with a metronomic precision, allowing time between each stinging blow for the pain to mount to a maximum. I was moaning and writhing, almost beyond self control, the pain/pleasure blurring into a glorious whole. After 12 strokes I sensed we'd both had enough. I raised the birch one last time, waited a long 30 seconds and laid it, with as much force as I could muster, full across both cheeks. She gave the loudest cry yet and jumped up, both hands pressed to her bottom. A last, extra hard blow of the birch rods, full across my punished backside, made me jump from the bench, hands pressed to my backside. It was burning, and so was another part of me. I was burning for his dick inside me. He felt the urgency too, wasted no time in taking his pants off. His erection sprung out, ready: I wanted it inside me more than anything I had ever desired before. I stepped out of my trunks, my dick harder than it had ever been. If we didn't fuck now I would explode. "On your knees." I ordered. She obeyed instantly, kneeling on the edge of the bench, head downwards, and parted her legs. His voice shook slightly as he told me to get on my knees. I knew then that he felt the same urgency, the same need, as I did. I knelt on the corner of the bench, my head resting on the cushion. I stood behind her, pulled her hips towards me, positioned myself at the mouth of paradise and sunk smoothly in to the root. I felt the tip of his penis part the edges of my vagina. I held my breath as he slid slowly, fully inside me, then moaned as he slid out again, just as slowly. She moaned as I slid out, and slowly, so slowly, slid the full length of my erection inside the heat of her welcoming vagina. I held it there for a heartbeat, feeling the pulse in my erection and the tight muscles inside her gripping me. It was almost too much. I needed a proper fucking. "Harder, for fuck's sake" I said. He drew back fully and slammed into me, his stomach hitting against my smarting backside, the hardness and size of his erection filling me completely. He gripped my hips and started pounding into me, faster and harder. The mixture of pain and pleasure was all-encompassing. The rest of the room, the world, disappeared. Nothing mattered but this moment, this sensation. After a few more deep thrusts his penis thickened, twisted inside me and he started to come as I felt a savage orgasm, more intense than anything I'd ever felt in my life, overwhelm me. She cried out one last time, this time in pleasure. My own orgasm matched hers perfectly as I came inside her. The waves of ecstasy seemed to go on for an eternity, and I felt a glorious fulfilment as I came and came and came. Eventually, the waves of pleasure subsided and I pulled out of her and stood, breathing hard, legs shaking, supporting myself on my arms, hands either side of her hips on the bench. She was slumped forward, utterly spent. I was directly above her glorious, wonderful backside, which was was deep red, and patterned with the rods of the birch. I leaned down slightly and kissed each cheek once. "I've never experienced anything like that in my life." I said. "If we weren't married I'd propose on the spot." I turned and looked over my shoulder at my husband. "And I think I could probably be persuaded to say yes."