0 comments/ 233818 views/ 10 favorites A Matter Of Discipline By: sabastian1 A MATTER OF DISIPLINE- The Beginning I own a local gift shop in a resort town that stays busy almost year round. I have been fortunate to have a very favorable relationship with the local community as well, and thus get many referrals to my store. One of the reasons is my manager. She is extremely prominent in the community and is not the type of person you would normally find working. Her husband is a very successful businessman who travels extensively, and because of this, his wife, Mrs. M, wanted “something to do” to fill in the day. This started six years ago with her working just a few hours a week , and now she almost runs the store. She is well known to everyone and very popular, not having the normal attitude of most women of her stature. She is friendly to all, but always very proper and never speaks a bad word about anyone. Most people who do not know her are quite surprised when they hear of her background and always ask why she works so hard. She just laughs most of the time and tells them she does it for fun and actually loves the excitement of the business. The following situation took place about six months ago and it’s one that does not seem to have a way of ending. During a busy Saturday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk going over some invoices. Being the type of store that we are, my office is part of the storeroom, with no walls around, just the desk and filing cabinet among the merchandise. Mrs. M appeared and needed to get some change for the front. The safe is also located in the back next to my desk, so I had to move to let her get by. I sat back down and noticed her kind of jumping or squirming around, like she had “to go.” I jokingly said to her, “What’s the matter, got ants in your pants.” She replied, “No, I really have to pee, but have been to busy.” I jokingly said, “I guess it wouldn’t help if I tickled you.” She laughed, and fired right back, “If you do, you had better get the mop.” What happened next was so far out of the normal thought process, I do not even know how I said what I did. Sometimes you don’t always think before talking and this was one of those times where I put myself in a trap and just kept getting in deeper. First, I must backtrack to tell you what I was seeing. The staff uniform, because of the resort atmosphere and the warm year round climate, consisted of shorts, tee shirts, and sneakers. Mrs. M wore the same. On any given day, she was not the type of women you would stop to look at. She was around forty-two years of age, and about five foot four, with shoulder length brown hair. She had a very plain face and features. Physically she was small, with breasts that were not noticeable, but she did have hips, possibly from having three children. She weighed probably no more than one hundred ten pounds. Her best feature, though, was her butt. I have always been a breast man, but I often found myself watching Mrs. M walking or bending over, just to admire her legs and that butt. Now she was standing in front of me, squeezing her legs together and hopping around with that butt right in front of my face. As she turned to leave after getting change, still in a frenzied state, she asked if I would move, so she could get out. I laughed and said, “You will have to pay the toll.” She laughed and said, “Please stop, I really have to go and do not have time to play.” I looked at her straight in the eyes and said, “No pay, no go. Your choice.” “Ok, ok,” she said, “What it’s gonna cost me, but if you don’t make it quick I am going to pee right here.” That’s when I did it. I turned so I was facing directly in front of her and said, “I want you to turn around.” She looked at me with a question and then turned so her back was facing me. I then said, “Remove your shorts.” She turned and looked at me and asked, “What did you say?” knowing full well what I had said. I repeated it again, “Take off your shorts.” I thought she was going to scream. She looked at me and said, “I don’t believe you just said what you did or why, but I think you had better move out of my way and let me pass or else I’ll have you arrested for sexual assualt.” I knew I had buried myself and just killed my business, but I forged on like a man on a mission. I sat there looking at her. She was now really about to burst. I calmly said, “If you don’t do as I say, you’re going to wet yourself. Then you’ll make so much noise that someone will hear you and come back here. When they do they’ll see you in your state of wetting yourself, which probably is not a good thing to happen, being the woman you are and your reputation. No matter what you say then, everyone will just think it was an excuse you made up for being embarrassed.” If she had a knife, I knew she would use it, but she coldly looked at me and said, “This is not over. Having said that she started to undo her shorts. I told her, “Turn around, so your back is to me and take them off.” She turned and continued to remove her shorts. When she had done so, I told her to lift her tee shirt so I could see her butt. I was mesmorized. I was staring at her beautiful butt in a pair of silk panties. She really did have a great butt. At this point, I told her to put her shorts back on and return to the front so no one would be suspicious. While she was putting her shorts back on, I quickly left and went to the front of the store and started helping customers. The rest of the day stayed busy, which kept us separated, so I was fearful for the end of the day. If she quit and told her husband, I would certainly be arrested. Nobody would dare doubt her word, but what proof did she really have. I decided to leave early so I did not have to have a confrontation at the end of the day. As I was about to leave, Mrs. M came up to me and said, “This is far from over. When I tell my husband about this over the weekend, you will wish you never came to this town.” As calmly as I had been earlier, I looked straight at her and said, “If you want to discuss it, I would suggest you wait until Monday. Don’t forget your reputation, and with all the staff working today, it would seem strange that no one would have seen anything. Try explaining that and why you didn’t just scream for help.” With that, I turned to leave. I then stopped, looking her in the eyes, and said, “Be here at eight am Monday, dressed for work, and we will finish this matter.” I then left. A Matter of Discipline You meet someone who totally turns your sexual world upside down and in the process teaches you things about yourself that you may not have known. Good/bad, pain/pleasure, dominance/submission, desire/repulsion the feelings and sensations while distinct nonetheless meld and become almost indistinguishable one from the other on an emotional and sexual level. This story includes elements of anal loving, physical dominance, sexual violence, emotional submission, rough sex and reluctance. I encourage you to leave your comments and to remember to vote. Read and enjoy. A special thank you to rexbrookdale for your help with editing this story. * How is it that women so often let themselves walk into untenable situations with their eyes wide open, but unseeing? I did exactly that almost a year and a half ago, and trust me, at the time I didn't have a clue what was happening. My new lover Marc was a sexual dream come true, and I was more than willing to put on those proverbial rose-colored glasses if it would keep him in my bed and between my legs. From the beginning, the sexual side of our relationship was electric. The sex was almost frighteningly good. Marc was a young, well thought of attorney associated with a good firm and I was inexperienced and sexually ready for someone like him. Hell, maybe that was the problem, the relationship revolved around fucking . . . where we could do it, when we could do it, how we could do it, and in what positions we could do it. I remember the first time we were together; the sexual sparks were already flying. We'd gotten back to his place after a night of dancing and drinking, and after a few more drinks gravitated to his bedroom. We both were ready and knew exactly what was going to happen. He unzipped my dress and I stepped out of it, removed my panties and was about to remove my stockings. "Sit down on the bed," Marc said. I stood there, looking at him, naked except for my stockings. "Why?" "Just sit on the fucking bed." I went to the bed, sat down and teasingly leaned back, opening my legs. I could see him becoming aroused as he looked at my already wet and glistening pussy. I let my fingers slip down to my swelling clit and playfully rubbed it until the moist pink bud poked out, hard and now clearly visible. "I love the way your pussy looks," he said in a hoarse, throaty voice, "swollen, pink and wet." "Now, finger fuck yourself and cum for me," he commanded, and I eagerly rubbed my clit and fingered my pussy until my juices dripped down between my ass cheeks. When he bent down, slipped his tongue between my fingers, and flicked my throbbing nub, all I could do was cry out with the pleasure. The sensations were dizzying, leaving me lightheaded and breathless as he ate my pussy with obvious delight. "Oh yes, Marc, please . . . yes . . . like that," I moaned as I took his head in my hands and pressed his face tightly to me. "Stick your tongue inside me; I want to feel your teeth on my clit." The feel of his mouth between my legs, was unbelievable, he soon had me ready to explode. With a final thrust of his fingers into my pussy, I came hard, straining against his mouth, giving in totally to my orgasm. ***** When things were going well it was wonderful, and like many women, I'd sometimes find myself daydreaming about marrying and making babies with him. You know, him going off to work each day and me staying at home with a big pregnant belly and heavy milk laden tits, happily waiting for him to get home so we could have more sex. Crazy, huh? Our relationship progressed quickly, but for all of his seemingly good qualities, there were things that should have sent up red flags for me. A couple of incidents come to mind that should have made me take a closer look at Marc and really see his insecurities and sexual quirks. The first happened the night of a mutual friend's birthday party. We'd been there for a few hours and Marc had had a couple of drinks, but he wasn't drunk. I was with a group of old friends, laughing and talking, but I had gotten a little nervous when at one point I looked up and saw him standing across the room glaring at me. Suddenly he came up, and taking me possessively by my arm excused us and led me away from the group. "Marc, please don't make a scene," I pleaded as he practically dragged me down the hallway to one of the empty bedrooms. He pushed me into the room and continued his tirade. "I saw you talking to that guy, dancing with him, rubbing yourself against him like a slut." He was right up in my face. "Why are you acting like a fucking slut in front of our friends?" "What are you talking about?" I asked in total bewilderment. The fury on his face scared me in a way I had never experienced with him before. I made myself stay calm, and reassured him that I would never do anything to intentionally embarrass or disrespect him. Then, when he looked away, I tried to rush past him but he blocked my escape. Impulsively, I then scurried across the bed to the other side and made to run toward the door, but he caught me again and this time, he slammed me hard against the wall. My head was turned and I could feel the rough coolness of it against my cheek. With one hand, he held my face there while he warned me in a low, intimidating voice, "You'd better not let anyone else fuck you!" I couldn't see him, but I heard him as he undid his belt and pants and pulled his cock out; when it brushed against my thigh I could feel that it was already hard. "If you think you need a fuck, bitch, I'll give you a fuck," he said through clenched teeth. "I can see you need to learn some discipline and I'll be happy to teach it to you, slut." I struggled as he roughly pulled my dress up over my hips, yanked the crotch of my panties aside and rammed his huge, pulsing cock into me. When I screamed, he covered my mouth with his hand, turning my scream into a muffled whine. He hadn't closed the door all of the way, and after a couple of minutes of him abusing me, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone. This guy, this stranger, was standing there in the doorway, his cock in his hand, watching and jerking himself off as Marc fucked me. Though I felt nothing but humiliation and shame, I tried to make eye contact with the guy and struggled harder, but he was so absorbed in what Marc was doing to me that he wouldn't look at my face. As Marc fucked into me, the guy watching us jerked himself off into someone's sweater he'd grabbed off the bed. He probably thought that what he had witnessed was just someone having quickie sex with his girlfriend, and not a crazy bastard sexually 'disciplining' his bitch. When Marc finally climaxed I was crying so hard I didn't realize he had finished, not until he grunted and pulled out of me. His thick, white cum slowly pooled in the crotch of my panties. To my amazement, he then became the thoughtful, caring man I knew, actually turning me around to face him and kissing me as if nothing had happened. He wiped my tears away, brushed back my damp hair and told me to straighten my clothes and he would take me home. It was unreal . . . I mean, that was it . . . nothing else was said about it. ***** As we drove to my apartment, I sat there trying to figure out how I could end whatever this was between us. "Get ready for bed," he instructed as soon as we got into my apartment. I undressed and got into bed, hoping that he would leave, but he stripped out of his clothes, crawled into bed and immediately reached between my legs to fondle me. I caught my breath when he inserted his fingers into my pussy and like the slut he'd called me all evening, I didn't resist him. The renewed, throbbing ache between my legs only emphasized how much I now wanted him. He brought me to orgasm and before the waves of pleasure had faded, he rolled me onto my back, spread my legs and claimed my wet, dripping pussy with his mouth. Though I was sore from his earlier treatment, he buried his face in my puffy, soft mound and lovingly licked and sucked me, my moans growing louder and louder. He opened me and let his tongue run up and down the inside of my thighs, coming close to my pussy and clit but not pleasuring me there. Repeatedly he brushed his lips over my pussy slit, making me whimper and purr with excitement. Did he know how angry I had been with him? He must have, and yet here he was, obviously taking pleasure in making me hump his mouth and strain to feel his tongue inside me. He finally put his mouth on top of my clit, and, sucking so gently, so deliciously, gave me the tongue fucking that I wanted, making me cum wet and sticky into his mouth. Physically satisfied and covered in a moist sheen of sweat, the room smelling of our pungent sex, I fell asleep, exhausted. When I woke that morning, he was still there next to me, his hard, masculine body warm and naked against mine. "Good morning, baby," he said, rubbing against me so I could feel the pressure of his morning hardness against my ass, pushing and probing for entry. He found my still swollen, pink hole and effortlessly slid inside me. I closed my eyes remembering how upset we both had been the night before, but now in the light of day everything seemed fine as he maneuvered on top of me and lost himself in fucking me. Things went pretty well for several months, and there were no more incidents. Apparently, all had been forgotten and forgiven. I think in some strange way I cared for him, and realized that despite how professionally successful he was, and despite how wonderful a person he was most of the time . . . he had issues. If he were upset with me, our lovemaking for him would evolve into rough sex, during which he would 'discipline' me. Afterwards, he would hold and kiss me, all the while telling me that everything would be okay and then would make exquisite love to me leaving me clinging to him, sexually satisfied and submissive. ***** Marc's law firm was just a few blocks from my office, so occasionally he would swing by and pick me up after work. One afternoon when he picked me up, he saw me outside of the office talking with one of my male co-workers who happened to have his arm innocently about my shoulders. The argument started almost immediately after I got into his car. All the way home, I listened to accusations and tried to ignore the intimidation. At first, I tried talking to him, but it proved pointless and after a while, I just sat there, silent. When we got to my apartment, I jumped out of the car and ran to unlock the door and get inside away from him, but before I could close and lock it behind me, he had pushed it open. He stepped inside, slamming and locking the door behind him. "Enough," I shouted. "I've had enough; I just want you to get out! Now!" Marc stood there, expressionless, making no move to leave. "Marc, please listen to me," I said in what I hoped was a calm voice. "I think you should leave now." With tears now brimming in my eyes I looked up at him and said, "It's over between us Marc, if you don't leave I'm going to call the police." "Alright," he said after a long silence. Relieved, I foolishly let my guard down when he started walking towards the door, and so I wasn't expecting it when he suddenly turned around and pushed me, making me stumble backwards. I think I must have fallen and bumped my head. When I came to, I was on the living room floor with my legs splayed open, my knees pushed up against my chest, my clit and pussy glistening and exposed. My blouse was open and my bra pulled down so that my breasts were free, and my nipples visibly hard and peaked. Marc was on top of me, his thick, angry hard-on with its huge cockhead poised to enter me. I started to struggle, but he put all of his weight on me and ruthlessly pushed his cock into me up to his balls. "Get off me, Marc! Get off, you bastard!" I screamed. I could barely move or breathe under his weight and finally stopped trying to fight him; I just lay there while he fucked me. I know this sounds terrible, but he took me the way I always liked it, slow and deep. Within a short time, I felt an orgasm building, I didn't want it to happen, but I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it . . . I was going to cum. "Oh god, I'm cummmminggggggg," I groaned as my hips began to hump against him. I could feel my pussy involuntarily grip and release his cock as he also erupted, sending his load deep inside me. Never saying a word, he pulled out of me and began milking his cock so that the last drops of cum fell onto my face. He got up and started to dress, but before he pulled up his pants, he made me get on my knees and crawl between his legs where he demanded that I suck and lick his dick clean. Grabbing handfuls of my hair he held my head in front of him until I had sufficiently cleaned him. When he left, I grabbed my phone intending to call 911, but then decided against it. I mean, what would I say? "My boyfriend, whom I've been fucking almost every night for the last nine months pushed his way into my apartment and forced me to have rough sex with him. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop him . . . oh, and did I mention that he gave me a fantastic orgasm?" I put the phone down. ***** When he left, I was relieved and foolishly assumed that the relationship was finally over. I felt sad in a way, I mean after all, he was loving, affectionate, and exciting to be around, at times. Then again, there were the times when he was so sexually aggressive with me that it left me frightened and cautious of his lack of self-control. After a few initial phone calls and attempts to apologize, contact with Marc stopped altogether. I was often lonely but relieved that he seemed to have finally gotten the message. I found out just how wrong I was, when one night I awoke to discover someone standing over my bed . . . it was Marc. ***** Throwing back the covers, Marc pulled me from the bed and made me get onto my hands and knees with my head lowered and my ass raised to him. He penetrated my ass with his fingers and roughly pushed his cock into my pussy and began to thrust deeply and deliberately into me, while his fingers rimmed my ass. When he was hard and fully erect he pulled out and nestled his cock between my ass cheeks before he started forcing his swollen cock into my still tight asshole. The more he pressed his cockhead into me the more I struggled and tried to squirm away from him. "Marc, stop . . . please, you're hurting me," I said between near hysterical crying. "Shut up bitch and just take it," he practically spat out the words, "you've taken it up your fucking ass before!" He took a hard thrust into me, which made me scream loudly while simultaneously begging and pleading for him to stop. "I told you to shut up, I'm just giving you what you need, a good ass-fucking," he said hatefully. "Marc, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I just want to be with you," I pleaded, "Just stop, please stop and we can talk and make love the way we use to . . . not like this." Even though I was doing exactly what he wanted, groveling, begging for his forgiveness, in his vindictiveness none of that mattered anymore. Kneeling there in front of him with my ass presented to him like a bitch in season, I couldn't stop moaning and whimpering as he slowly pressed more and more of his engorged length into me. My body tensed, and then relaxed when he finally pressed his cock pass the muscle ring encircling my asshole; after that, taking his length became a little easier. As he fucked my ass, I felt his hand caress and then tighten around my throat. Amid a mixture of emotions and physical sensations I experienced a faint ringing in my head as my body fought for air. A stillness seemed to envelope me and I recognized the unmistakable tingling of an orgasm starting to flow through my body. I could feel his hands tightening on my throat again, when he groaned loudly, took a final deep thrust and shot his load of thick cum forcefully into my warm, tight ass giving me a very intense orgasm and then . . . blackness. I think I was in shock when I finally came to, hurting and disoriented, unable to stand up very well. I crawled away from him on my hands and knees trying to get . . . to the bed? The bathroom? The door? I didn't know. When my thinking cleared, Marc was lifting me up and carrying me into the bathroom where he lowered me into a warm bath. The warm water soothed my sore muscles and abused ass. As my body relaxed, I felt his hand find its way between my legs and tenderly caress me there until I melted into a gentle orgasm. When the water started to cool Marc helped me out of the tub, dried me off, and walked me to the bed. We got into bed and he put his arms around me, pulling me to him. I could feel his arousal and made to pull away from him, but he held me tighter and rolling onto me caressed my face, saying simply, "Let me," and I did. The next morning Marc was up and moving about in the room by the time I awoke. I sat up in bed and watched him dress and gather his things. He came over and sat on the edge of the bed and after a moment said, "I guess this is it, isn't it?" Knowing my own sickness for him, I knew I had to end this. I looked at him, and softly said, "Yes," and told him goodbye. ***** I didn't see or hear from Marc for almost six months, until one night we ran into each other at a popular jazz club. He nodded when he saw me and, crossing the room we exchanged greetings, then went our separate ways. As the evening wore on however, we seemed to gravitate to each other, and over several drinks reminisced about how it had been and why it ended in the way it had. He was still as handsome and sexy as ever, his eyes bright, his smile infectious, and his hand warm and knowing as he gently stroked the inside of my thigh. God help me, but I could feel my hips involuntarily straining toward his hand, wanting more of his touch. He leaned into me and kissed me hard and deep. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but as I relaxed more, I opened my legs allowing him to push the crotch of my panties aside and slip his fingers into my already wet and eager pussy. Moaning into his mouth that covered mine, he finger fucked me and within a short time I felt the familiar quivering between my legs signaling the subtle but unmistakable signs of an imminent orgasm. "Marc, I've missed you," I said as I tried to maneuver closer to give him better access. "I'm so sorry about what happened, I didn't mean for it to happen like that." "Let's go," he whispered, and abruptly pulled his fingers from my pussy, causing me to gasp in surprise and disappointment. "Oh, god Marc, nooooooooo," I whined, "I don't want to go . . . please don't stop." "Let's go. . . now!" he said impatiently as he helped me from the booth. He took my hand and led me toward his car. As we approached the car, I saw that it was parked at the far end of the lot in a poorly lit area. I felt uneasy and attempted to pull back, but he put his arms around me, and kissing me deeply, said, "Come on baby, it's okay, we just need a little privacy." With that, he pulled me around to the other side of the car, deep into the shadows where he pressed me over the hood of the car. Slipping his hands under my blouse, he grabbed my breasts and squeezed them hard, making me flinch and sending a strong, erotically charged shiver from my breasts to my aching clit. Reaching under my skirt and pulling my panties down, Marc found my opening, and immediately tried to push his fully engorged length into me. Already on the brink of an orgasm even before we had left the club, when he began fucking into me with just the head of his cock, my body quickly convulsed as my delayed orgasm erupted, its intensity causing my stomach and thigh muscles to cramp and my legs tremble. A Matter of Discipline Bending me further over the hood of the car, with short, hard thrusts, he soon had his cock buried in my pussy up to his balls, and began mercilessly fucking into my warm, wet pussy. I could feel him getting bigger inside me and in frustration, not yet ready to cum he began to curse and groan, "Damn it, I can't hold it back . . . fuck! I'm going to cum." I could feel his hard, tight ball sac pressed against me and his rigid dick inside me when, to his dismay, he came hard, filling my pussy with hot, thick cum. Spent, he slumped onto my back and my pussy began to contract and release as he pulled his cock out of me. Long, threads of sticky cum clinging to his cock, and some trickling down between my legs. I could now feel his weight on me and began to squirm trying to get from under him. Too late I realized that my squirming had served only to excite him and I could feel him again becoming hard against my ass. I began to try in earnest to get away from him when he grasped my hips and began probing for my asshole. "Bitch . . . fucking bitch!" he growled, "stop fighting me." He had forgotten about, or perhaps did not care if anyone should hear or see us. "You've disappointed me and I've stood by and allowed you to, but no more. You need to be disciplined and made to realize how much you've really pissed me off." In the shadows of the parking lot, despite my pleas, he had become the dark, crazy Marc, and was going to do exactly as he intended. He was going to teach me a lesson, prove his dominance over me. He was going to ass fuck me like he had done that night. "Marc, please, don't do this," I begged. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't do this to me." But my begging was pointlessly, as he found my tight brown bud and positioned himself to enter. With his hand covering my mouth, I gave a muffled scream as he pushed into me. "Shut up bitch! I don't want to hurt you more than I have to!" I quieted immediately and steeled myself for what was going to happen next. "Damn, you're still so fucking tight. I really believe I'm the only one who's had your ass." "Am I right, baby?" "I'm the only one who's fucked you in the ass, aren't I? Aren't I?" "Yes, Marc . . . only you," I managed to answer through stinging tears, trying desperately to hold back my screams as he slowly stroked his full length and girth in and out of me. At one point, he would pound into me so hard and deep that the effort would literally lift me onto my toes. "Relax baby . . . just relax and let me play with you," he chided as he reached under my hips and expertly stroked and fondled me until my body grudgingly relaxed against him. He filled me from behind, while his fingers rubbed and massaged my swollen, aching clit until my eyes rolled back in my head and my body spasmed with pleasure. He continued to fondle me like this forcing me to cum for him until I was so weak I could barely stand. With his hands on my back, he kept me bent over the hood and I remember closing my eyes and in some perverted way feeling pleased and satisfied as my body opened for him, welcoming the insistent pressure of his cock. "Damn, you feel amazing," he said, now holding my ass tightly against him as he increased his speed. He began loudly grunting and groaning with each thrust until with a final hard push he ejaculated hot cum inside my abused bowels. I lay across the hood softly crying, caught up in a jumble of emotions, pain, pleasure, anger, humiliation I couldn't separate them. "Stop crying," he said almost gently. "You know I don't like hurting you, but you need to be treated like this. The way you've acted, the way you've disrespected me . . . you needed the one thing that always helps you understand when you've displeased me." Even as he spoke, Marc was still humping me, wanting to get every drop of cum from his balls. "Yes, baby, yes baby that's it, take it all . . .it's all for you," he repeated in a hoarse, dry voice until he finally stopped moving and collapsed onto me. "You'll be such a good, good girl now, my good girl. . . won't you?" "Yes Marc," I whimpered, my face wet with tears as I lay there literally trapped by this man. In our regular love making we usually had wonderful anal sex that we both enjoyed. But as I leaned onto the car with my ass still exposed and his spent cum seeping down the inside of my thighs, I hated myself for my own sickness (I don't know what else to call it) in liking what he had done to me. ***** Marc turned me around to face him. Slipping his hands under my arms, he lifted me up and sat me on the hood of the car. Pulling my ass to the edge of the hood, he scooped up the cum that pooled between my legs, and began to smear it on me. My clit was hard, raw and exquisitely tender. I didn't think I could bear to have him touch me again, and pleaded with him as I tried to close my legs to prevent him from fondling me. "Marc, please don't, just take me home." He searched my face and after a long pause, responded, "When I'm finished, I'll take you home". Then to my surprise, this man who had been such a brute ten minutes earlier, with a now feather light touch covered my clit and pussy with the cool cum. It calmed and soothed my soreness. I can't describe in words how wonderful it felt. I was still puffy and swollen from how he had fucked and used me, but when he spread me wider and lowered his head between my legs, the warmth and gentleness of his mouth and tongue easily sent me into orgasmic shudders. I hadn't realized until then that I had been holding my breath, I exhaled loudly. "Oh my god Marc," I said in a weak voice. Shaken by all of the overwhelming sensations, I leaned forward, resting my forehead on his chest. He cupped my chin in his hand and tipped it so I could see his face, and letting his hand slide down to my shoulder, pressed me onto my back. There in that dark, dirty parking lot, naked from my waist down, legs wide open, Marc ate my pussy until I cried, begging him to stop, begging him not to stop -- completely lost in the pleasure. Out of the darkness we heard a shout, "Damn, why don't you and your fucking bitch get a room, dude!" A few people leaving the club passed Marc's car, and even in the shadowy darkness they could see and hear what he was doing to me. My eyes flew open, the illusion of where we were and what we were doing, shattered. "Mind your own fucking business," he returned, and tightened his hold on my hips to keep me from moving. He continued loving me until I could no longer hold back. Lifting my hips, I placed my hands around the back of his head and pressed his face to my center until I was left moaning and whimpering as another powerful orgasm gripped me. ***** He let me rest there a few minutes before lifting me down. On wobbly legs I stood next to the car, while he adjusted my now cum stained dress. "Marc, my panties . . . I can't find my panties," I began before being cut off. "You don't need panties," he laughed, and guided me into the car. He started it up and headed to my apartment, with me dozing most of the way. Marc helped me into the apartment and then into bed. As I snuggled under the covers and was about to fall asleep, I felt Marc climb in behind me, his cock hard, engorged, sticky with precum. Wanting to feel him inside me again, I pushed back against him and lifted my leg onto his hip, sighing with satisfaction he held open my pussy lips and slid easily into my wet slit, my pussy lips closing tightly, possessively, around his bulbous cockhead. Spooning behind me, he gently but firmly pushed forward, going deeper into me. "This is mine," he whispered as he fondled my swollen, pulsing clit and wet pussy. "Yes, Marc, it belongs only to you," I said softly as he gave several long, hard thrusts before quietly ejaculating spurt after spurt of his cum, drenching the walls of my pussy. Emotionally and physically exhausted, we fell asleep, his beautiful cock ever so gradually softening inside me. ***** Marc and I stayed in contact with each other, talking, exploring and having wonderful sex. Despite my previous reservations, we decided to move in together. We found a beautiful new apartment, and have been together for over a year now. Aside from the usual kinds of 'couple' issues, and the times when he still sometimes gets a little crazy, I think we've figured out the real dynamics of our relationship. His craziness doesn't frighten me the way it did in the beginning, I guess because I know Marc would never intentionally hurt or harm me. I think sex -- specifically rough sex -- is his way of, as he puts it 'disciplining' me and demonstrating his dominance. He still fucks my brains out, but he's only had to discipline me twice within the last six months . . . and each time, I enjoyed it quite a bit. A Matter Of Discipline Ch. 02 The weekend was a nightmare. I could do nothing but go over everything I had done and try to figure out why I did it. This brought no solace to me and I was now faced with Monday morning, not knowing if Mrs. M would show up alone or with the police. I had dug a hole and now had to figure out what I was going to do. I just had to wait on Mrs. M and see what she was going to do on Monday. I woke up early on Monday, showered and got ready for work. It was 7am when I arrived at the store. Although we did not open until ten, I wanted to have some coffee and calm down before Mrs. M arrived at eight. I was still hoping she would come in alone so we could discuss and settle the problem ourselves. I still kept wondering how a fifty-two-year-old man in my position could ever get himself into so much trouble. I needed to find a way to protect myself. It was now seven thirty. I needed to work fast. I went to the front of the store and took down one of the security cameras, carrying it to the back and setting it up so that it showed the whole storeroom office area. I placed it so it was not clearly visible, in case she accused me of doing something or attacking her. That way I would have some proof to help me. Little did I know what the camera would later do. Mrs. M arrived precisely at eight, letting herself in, as I was still in the back. Hearing the door close, I went to the front to find Mrs. M dressed in her normal work attire. I thanked her for coming and asked if she would like some coffee. She accepted and I got her a cup. I asked if she did not mind if we sat in the office, so we would not be disturbed by anyone looking in the store windows and thinking we were opened. She agreed. So far she did not speak, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I knew that she was in total control of whatever was to happen today. I had put an extra chair in the back so she could sit down and allow us to have what I hoped would be, a civil conversation. We walked to the back, me leading the way. I then stepped aside so she could sit in the chair I had set up. Once seated, I felt like a little kid in the principal’s office waiting to be expelled. Mrs. M sat for a minute just staring at me while drinking her coffee. She then asked me what in the world got into me to demand such a despicable act of her and to embarrass her in such a god-awful way, especially knowing who she was and that what I had done was now going to cost me my business and most probably would end up with me going to jail. Had I gone totally mad to do such a perverted and disgusting thing? What had I hoped to gain from such an act, and what had she done to deserve this. Although I knew everything she said was true, I could not really hear what she was saying. I was too busy trying to figure out how I could get out of this mess, how I could turn the tables on her. What was I going to do? She was now yelling at me. I guess she had noticed that I was not paying attention to what she was saying and was now sitting in front of me yelling my name. It was as if I was in a trance. I jumped up and said I was sorry, that I was really confused and upset, and then just started babbling. I really do not know what I said, but it stopped her from yelling and so I just kept rambling. As I was doing this, I noticed she was “ twitching” again in her seat. I stopped talking and just stared at her for a response. She said that since I gave no legitimate reason for my actions and offered no real apology, she did not feel I was sincere in what I had said. Therefore, she had no other choice but to go to the police. I begged her to please reconsider and tell me how I could possibly make amends. She looked at me for a moment, then asked to be excused to use the ladies room. I do not know why, but it was like a trigger going off. I told her that I would not excuse her until we were finished, and that she was at fault for her own actions the other day. Because of her erotic gyrations the other day, she had caused my actions, and now she was trying to do the same. If she were going to the police, I would tell them that she solicited me, and she could have called for help if she were in trouble. Why didn’t she? I told her she had better think of her reputation, and what would come out of such an accusation on her part. She was staring at me in total shock, her mouth staying open, but no words coming out. I continued my assault, making things up as I went along. The more I talked, the more shocked she became, but more demure at the same time. I stopped for a moment, and again she asked to be excused. I then acted mad and raised my voice when I said, “There you are, doing it again: sitting, squirming, and making motions with the excuse you have to pee. Well it is going to cost you again.” With this, she stood up and slapped my face. “How dare you talk to me like this. I will not pay any fee of any kind to you and will not listen to your demands. Now, get out of my way.” Without wavering, I stood up and was now nose to nose with her. I raised my voice in such a manner that I scared myself. I told her she was going to do as I told her to do or I would spread rumors of her soliciting me while her husband was away and any other story I could dream up. Right now, I was going to let her pee herself so she could explain that to everyone as she walked down the street in public. Her face was drawn, and her lips were quivering. When she spoke, it was so soft that I could hardly hear her talk. “Please don’t do this. I haven’t done anything to hurt you. Just please let me go the bathroom, and I promise I’ll forget everything. Please.” The feeling of control was overwhelming. I knew I could not just let her go. I sat down in my chair and looked at her standing in front of me. I spoke very softly and slowly. “I will let you go to the bathroom when I’m ready, but right now you need to pay me back for saying such awful things to me and threatening me, don’t you agree?” Her eyes were starting to tear and she said, “Please do not make me do what I did the other day. I will pay you anything you want. I am sorry for saying those things. Don’t make me show you my panties again. Please don’t.” I felt bad, but also was getting such a hard on I thought I would burst. This was now my only chance. I said, “I will do as I see fit, and you will do as you are told, or else. Now, turn around and take off you shorts. NOW.” Her tears were now starting to flow but she turned around and lowered her shorts, holding up her shirt so I had a good look at her butt. God, what a sight. Today she was wearing pink lace panties. I thought I was going to come right then. I then got bolder and told her to turn around and face me. She did so and said, “Please do not do this. No one has ever seen me this way but my husband. Please stop. I will do anything you want, but please do not make me do anything else, please.” I knew I was in control and told her she had threatened me and now she had to pay. The look of fear and anger spread across her face. When she spoke her, lips where shaking and I started to get a weird feeling of power. She said, “What do you mean? What do you want from me. Please stop this now and I promise I won’t do or say anything.” Looking at her in her lace panties, the outline of pubic hair showing just on the edges of her panties was overwhelming. I had forgotten where I was, but I could not stop. I looked at my watch and it was only 8:45, still time to do more. Looking at her directly and acting very stern, I said, “This is your doing, and you will do as I tell you. If not I will ruin your reputation by telling everyone of your actions.” I felt powerful and wanted to embarrass her, to see how she would react to being controlled. I now told her to now remove her tee-shirt. Her face went white, but slowly she removed it. She held her face down and had her arms crossed in front of her chest. I told her to put her hands at her sides and look at me. She followed my instructions without a word. Her bra matched her panties, being pink lace, so you could just make out the outline of her nipples. Her breasts were small, but the bra made them look appetizing. By now my cock was so hard it was starting to hurt. I knew at any minute I would explode. I had to see more, to touch her ass, her pussy, her little breasts, and yes, maybe even have her perform sexual favors. My mind was racing out of control. I needed to calm down to be able to enjoy her to the fullest. She was looking straight in my eyes when I took the next step. I looked her up and down very slowly, and then looked her in the eyes. “Tell me, what do you want to show me first, your pussy or your tits?” “No, please no, do not make me do this, please don’t,” was all she could say. The fear in her face was intense, so I continued to push. “I asked you a question, and I want an answer. What do you want to show me first, your pussy or your tits?” I knew this language was something she never heard or used, and it just made me more excited to see her reaction. She was shaking all over and I could barely hear her when she said, “I’ll take off my bra.” “What did you say,” I shouted. “I will take off my bra,” she repeated. “That is not what I asked you. Answer me as I asked.” “Please do not do this. Please do not make me take off my bra, please. I cannot say those things. Please stop.” She was begging, but I could not stop. “Do it now, say it.” I barked again. “I want to show you my tits.” “What, I cannot hear you,” I prodded. “I want to show you my tits.” She said it a louder voice. “Then do it,” I commanded. She unhooked the bra from behind and hesitated, holding it in front of her, looking at me for hope, for which there was none. She lowered her hands and the bra, dropping it to the floor by her feet. Her breasts were small, and sagged from breast-feeding years before, but still had a cuteness to them. Her breathing had increased, and had a nice effect on her breasts. In addition, the cool air had caused her nipples to harden, which made the sight more enticing. “You have very nice breasts,” I told her, “But now I am going to let you show me your best asset. I am going to let you show me your pussy. This is what you wanted all alone, is it not? Tell me you want to show me your pussy.” “I cannot,” she cried. Please stop. Do not make me take off my panties. Please don’t do this to me. I cannot do this. No one has ever seen me naked except my husband. Please do not make me do this. Please, I will give you anything.” I knew I should stop, but was too close and could not stop if I wanted too. I looked at her as cold as I could and asked, “Are you trying to tell me that no other man has ever seen you naked, or you’ve never had sex with anyone except your husband?” “Yes,” she replied. I almost came in my pants. Without blinking, I told her to move closer and stand right in front of me, between my legs. Once she did this I knew that even if she wanted to, there was no getting away. She stepped forward, looked down at me, and again began to beg. “Please stop, I am begging you. Do not make me take off my panties. Do not make me get naked. I will never say anything. Just do not make me take off my panties.” The more she talked, the more excited I got. She was my slave and I was going to finish this. “I told you what to do, and you did not listen. You fee has increased again. Now, do what I told you to do and do it quickly, or you will regret it more than you know.” She was helpless and knew it. In a childlike voice she said, “I want to show you my pussy.” “Tell me again, but say ‘please,’” I told her. “Please, let me show you my pussy.” I nodded. She hesitated and then removed them. She was standing in front of me with her pussy within my reach. She had a full bush of hair, with the lips very prominent. She had her legs held together, as if to hide the sight from me. I told her to stand with her legs apart so I could see her pussy. As she did so, I slowly ran my hand up the inside of her leg. I could feel her trembling as I did, but was mesmerized by her lips staring right in my face. I continued moving my hand up her thigh until I was at her hairline. Very slowly, I traced around her pussy and between her legs, avoiding ever so slightly from touching her lips. “Tell me to touch your pussy,” I commanded. Again, as if in a trance, she responded, “Please, touch my pussy.” Now I moved my hand over her lips, from the top to the bottom, very slowly, feeling her moisture wetting my fingers. Her lips were opening, and I wanted to put my fingers in her, but I wanted to make sure she was a part of it. As if on cue, a low moan came from her mouth as I continued to massage the outer lips of her pussy. She was getting wet and was now responding to my touches. I now commanded her on what to say, and she repeated, without hesitation, “Put your finger in my pussy. Please, finger-fuck me. Please, do it now.” I had inserted one finger, then another, when a second moan came from her lips and her hips started to move with my fingers. I was now pushing my fingers in and out at a steady pace and felt I would burst through my pants. When I removed my fingers, she had a look of surprise and looked lost. I was now going over the edge. I told her to kneel in front of me and remove my pants. She did so, still not aware of what I had in mind. As she pulled my pants down over my under-shorts, her eyes went into shock from the sight of my cock trying to break through my shorts. I could not last much longer, and told her to remove my under-shorts so she could look at my cock. She tried to get up but I held her down and repeated my instructions. She was begging me again, “Please, do not make me do this. Please stop. I let you touch me and did everything you wanted. Please, do not make me take off your underwear. I have never done this with anyone but my husband. I cannot do this.” “Sure you can. Take down my shorts and take hold of my cock, or I will increase your fee again.” She slowly pulled my shorts down, but my cock was so hard she had trouble getting them over the head. When she finally did, my cock sprang out with such force it just started bouncing. “Take it in you hand and feel my cock,” I repeated. With a look of horror, she wrapped her hand around it and starting moving it up and down the shaft. This was unbelievable, and I had to force myself to hold on. “Now, put my cock in your mouth and suck it.” “Oh, no, I have never done it before. I can’t. It is disgusting. I will not do it. Please do not make me.” “You do it for your husband, and you will do it for me,” I bellowed. “No, I can’t. I’ve never done it to my husband. Please, don’t make me, please. I can’t put it in my mouth, I just can’t.” “Do it or else,” I commanded, “And do it quick. You are gonna suck my cock and like it.” Slowly she lowered her head, putting just the head in her mouth. “Yes, my little cock sucker, do it nice.” Taking my hands and holding her head, I pushed her mouth down on my cock. She tried to get away, but I would not let her, telling her again to keep sucking. Her movement was tentative, like having a new toy and trying to figure out what to do. Slowly she was moving her lips up and down my shaft, ever so lightly using her tongue. The pressure had been building for so long that I just could not hold out any longer. Holding onto her head so she could not get away, I started to come like never before. I heard her choking, trying to get away, but I held my cock in her mouth, making her swallow it all until I could no long squeeze out another drop. As I released her, she grabbed her clothes and ran into the bathroom. I looked at the clock and it was nine forty five, time to get dressed for work. The staff would be arriving any minute, so I needed to get everything in order. As I was getting ready to walk up front, Mrs. M came out of the bathroom, ran by me, and out the door. She got in her car and went home. I thought it best she take the rest of the day off. The rest of the day I stayed busy, since Mrs. M was not there to manage the store for me. It was the first time in six years that she had stayed home sick. Throughout the day, I kept envisioning her sucking my cock and the feeling of how great it was to have such control over her. I knew that somehow I could not lose such a valuable employee. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, and was just about to lock up when I remembered the camera I had moved to the back. I took it down and put it back in its proper location, taking the tape with me to review later at home. After taking a shower and getting something to eat, I decided I had better review the tape. I was not sure just what it would show, but wanted to be certain I had proof that I did not assault her if she decided to file charges. Since the tape did not have any sound, you could only see what was happening, without knowing what was said. As I started reviewing it, I started getting a tremendous hard-on, remembering everything that was said and her reactions. It was especially exciting when I knew she was begging me not to make her remove her bra, and especially her panties. This tape had to be my best idea ever. From looking at the tape, it only looked like Mrs. M was undressing for me and then gave me a blowjob. Wow! What a tape! Tomorrow I would make good use of it for sure. A Matter Of Discipline Ch. 03 Getting up early, I went down to the store to use the VCR to make a copy of the tape. I was not sure if Mrs. M would show up to work or not, but I wanted to be ready for anything. Since she always arrived early, when she did not show by eight forty five I knew she was not coming in. Once all the staff had arrived, I told them that Mrs. M had called in sick. It was Tuesday, one of our slower days, so I told the staff I had to run some errands and to call me on my cell phone if there were any problems. I left and went directly to Mrs. M's house, as I knew her husband would be out of town on business this week and she would be all alone. When I arrived at the house Mrs. M refused to let me in, said she wanted nothing to do with me ever again, and that I was to leave her property immediately. I told her it was best we discuss the situation, as it was in both of our best interests. She again told me to leave or else she would call the police and report me for trespassing. I told her that it would be best to invite me in rather than make a scene on her front steps, and that she might just want to review the tape I had brought. Her eyes got wide and she said, "What tape?" I informed her there was a tape from the security camera that she might want to review before she were to make any rash judgements. She had that look of hate and anger in her face, but only said, "Come in until I can look at this tape. If you try anything, I swear I will have you arrested for rape." I followed her inside, walking a few steps behind. She was wearing a simple sundress with open-toed sandals. The look was very inviting, and I could hardly wait for the chance to remove the dress from her and continue my quest from yesterday. I commented that it was not such a wise idea to keep on threatening me when she had the most to lose. With a look of scorn, she continued to walk into the family room, where a built in entertainment center took up one whole wall. There was a large sectional set up in front to allow comfortable viewing, with several side chairs. She placed the tape in the VCR and then sat on a side chair, ignoring me completely. I had crawled up on the sectional and lay back in a very relaxed position. As the tape started, I commented that I thought she was going to enjoy the tape quite a bit. She just gave me a look of scorn and turned back to the TV. As she started watching the film, I saw her twitching somewhat in her chair. The film was showing her standing in front of me and removing her shorts, then turning around and removing her shirt. At this point, she stood up and turned off the tape, stating she would not watch anything so disgusting and that she was keeping the tape and was going to destroy it. She then told me to get out of her house and never come back. She called me vile, repulsive and many other names, while I continued to relax on the sectional. When she had stopped, I went for the throat. "Mrs. M," I said, "You must think I'm totally stupid. That is not the original tape, and yes, you can keep it and destroy it. As you were able to see from the tape, you were stripping for me without me touching you. Had you continued to watch the disgusting thing, you would have seen yourself taking off your bra, and then your panties, having me finger fuck you, and then you giving me a blow job. If you think you can threaten me, you are wrong, and for calling me all those terrible names, I think you should apologize and pay me for being so insulting." When I stopped talking, she went ballistic, yelling at me, "You bastard! You think you can come into my home and threaten me. You know you forced me to do whatever is on that tape against my will, and I only did what I was forced into doing. You will give me that tape, or I promise you I'll tell my husband and have him put you in jail." It was all so crazy I started laughing. "You just don't get it, do you?" I said. "The tape shows you doing the strip tease. It shows you sucking my cock. It does not show me forcing you to do anything. I think it is a great idea to show your husband. I will even do it for you because this tape on the Internet will sell for two hundred dollars a copy. Surely your husband should see it first, before one of his friends might buy it and see poor Mrs. M giving the local shop owner a blowjob. Now, Mrs. M, are you ready to discuss terms, or should I just put the tape up for sale?" Her face was one of horror. "You wouldn't. You can't. Why are you doing this? What have I done to you? Please give me the tape. Just tell me how much you want, and leave me alone. Just tell me how much." I sat for a moment just looking at her. I was still on the sectional, and she was standing in front of me. "I will tell you the price you must pay to prevent me from selling the tape on the Internet or showing it to your husband. I will not give you the tape, but as long as you pay what I'm asking, no one else will see the tape." With this statement she relaxed a little and said, "OK, I'll pay what you want. Just tell me how much." "First," I said, "You will continue to manage the store so there is never any question or suspicion as to why you might have left. Is this agreed?" She shook her head and replied, "Yes." I knew she was going over in her mind about how much I was going to charge her and how to hide it from her husband. She still did not understand my payment but would realize very soon. Now was the time to lay out my payment. "As far as the rest of the payment..." I stopped to watch her face as she stood before me. "We will start today by finishing where we left off." I knew it would take a minute to sink in. The color change in her face, and the look of fear that came over her made it clear she understood. "You don't mean... you can't be serious..." was all she could get to come out of her mouth. "Yes Mrs. M, I do mean, and I am serious. To start with, raise your sundress so I can see what your panties look like today." "No, I will not do this not in my own home. Please do not do this. Haven't you done enough? Please do not make me do this. I'll pay you anything, just please don't make me do this." The words echoed in the room and I felt myself getting aroused again with such force I knew that there was not enough money to pay for such pleasure. "You will do as you're told, and do it now. If not, I will leave and you will never get another chance at the tape. Now, what is it going to be? Will you show me your pretty panties, or do I leave?" Looking lost, she slowly pulled her sundress up to her waist, revealing a pair of yellow lace panties. "Now turn around so I can see your cute little ass." She turned without saying a word. Slowly I watched her beautiful ass, encased in her lace panties, revolving around before my eyes. "That was very nice. Now remove your dress." Again, without question, she reached up and lowered the straps to the sundress off her shoulders, then let it slowly drop to the floor. Beautiful, she was wearing a matching, strapless lace bra, to match her panties. I thought for sure I would come in my pants at any moment. "Now, I want you to put your hand inside your panties and touch yourself." The look itself was priceless. "I can't do that. What are you saying? I cannot touch myself in front of you. Please do not make me do this. Please stop." "I already told you that I am not going to keep asking you twice. This is the last time I will tell you. Now, take your hand and play with your pussy. Remember, whatever I tell you, you are to do, and what ever I tell you to say, you are to say. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand." Slowly she took her hand, put it down the front of her panties and started running her fingers over her clit. She was looking down at the floor now, so I told her to take her other hand and put it inside her bra and pinch and squeeze her nipples until they were hard. She was to tell me when her pussy was wet and her nipples were hard. She looked up with a pleading glance, but put her hand into her lace bra and started to fondle her breasts. I could see from her movements that she was getting excited, and after several minutes she said she was getting wet. "Tell me exactly how you are, as I instructed you." "My nipples are hard and my pussy is very wet." "Good, now I want you to remove my pants, so you can look at my cock while you play with yourself." I know she wanted to argue, but gave in without a word, climbing on the couch to reach my pants. She undid them slowly, looking at me with the hope that I would change my mind, but I did not. After she removed my underwear, I told her to rub my cock to get the feeling in her mind of how it felt and to think about it fucking her. Her eyes started to tear, but she reached out, put her hand around my cock, and started slowly stroking it up and down. It took all I could do to keep from exploding all over her. I put my hand inside her bra and started playing with her breast, her nipples already excited from her own touches. At the same time, I told her to take her other hand, put it back in her panties, and play with herself until she was ready for me to fuck her. This hit a nerve. "I can't do that. Do not make me have sex with you. Please, I'll do anything. I'll even put your thing back in my mouth, but don't do this. Please don't." "Do you want me to leave?" There was silence for a minute, then the answer. "No." "What do you want then?" "I want to make you happy." "Very good," I said. She took her hand, put it inside her panties, and continued to play with herself. I continued to play with her breasts, now having removed her bra. I was licking and biting her nipples. She had started to moan, and her movements told me her pussy was ready. "Are you ready to fuck me?" "Yes." "Then you need to ask me properly, like I told you to do." Her look was priceless, but made me harder than I have ever been in my life. "Please fuck me. I want you to put your cock inside me. I want you to put your cock in my pussy." She was ready. I now knew she was mine for good. I told her to remove her panties and sit on top of me, then to take my cock in her hand and put it inside her pussy herself. I told her to fuck me better than she had ever fucked a man before. She climbed on me and did exactly as she was told, moving her hips and fucking me with a passion unknown. I turned her over so I was on top of her, pressing my cock fully into her. Now, without hesitation, she wrapped her legs around me and started telling me repeatedly, "Fuck me. Please, fuck me. Make me happy. Fill my pussy with your cock. I want you to fuck me so hard and deep. Please, I am your slut. I am your slave." I was glad that this turned out to be such a great working relationship, and could hardly wait for the days ahead.