Never Enough Ch. 05

Chapter Five - The week of punishment begins

I didn't know it yet, but the arrangement that Stephen made with Benjamin O'Reilly would last for nearly three years. And for all that time, you could say that I had two masters: My husband Stephen, who was my owner. And Benjamin, who was my boss in work, but who had special permission from Stephen to discipline me as he saw fit.

But before I tell you about that, let me first tell you about the very first week of this new arrangement.

I remember going to bed on the Sunday night, in my little nightie, cuddled up with Stephen. His strong arms were wrapped around me, and I could feel his chest moving as he breathed. This was normally a blissfully comforting place to be, but my heart was beating fast as I thought about the prospect of seeing Benjamin the next day, and what he might do to me. I would also be wearing a reasonably short dress that Stephen had already picked out for me, with no knickers on underneath.

But, in contrast to the nerves I felt, it had been, in many ways, a wonderful weekend.

After the extraordinary events of Friday evening - when I'd been stripped and spanked by Benjamin, made an emotional confession to Stephen, and then been caned by him on my already spanked bottom - we actually felt closer than ever before.

I'd had it brought home to me that not being 100% honest with Stephen was to risk losing him, and I couldn't bear the thought of that. He was - and still is - the only man I've ever truly loved, and no one has ever owned me as fully as he does.

So for the whole weekend I'd been very eager to please him, and to be as close to him as possible - both emotionally and physically.

I'd woken up before him on the Saturday morning, and lain there wanting to wake him up in the hope that he would want to have sex with me, and I must admit that I did start to touch myself - but only for a moment, because I felt that I probably wasn't allowed.

So instead, I'd got up quietly and gone and prepared a nice breakfast for him which I brought up on a tray, and to my delight he had woken up and given me a broad smile as I came in carrying it.

We'd eaten together in bed, and sipped our coffees, and actually just chatted about normal stuff - the plans for the day, which included meeting up with some friends that evening for someone's birthday drinks.

Once we'd finished, I moved the tray and then, smiling, I climbed onto him, straddling him so that I could kiss him.

He kissed me back with loving, sensual kisses, long and slow, and as he did so, his hands moved up the backs of my thighs to the bottom of my tiny little nightie, and then kept going.

I let out a little groan of pleasure as he caressed my bottom, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheeks and my cleft, and the still sore welts from my caning the night before.

His touch was very delicate, but my bottom was so sensitive from my punishment that it made me catch my breath. And the fact that he'd punished me so severely that I was this sore the morning after made my pussy tingle. I longed for his fingers to wander there.

And that was when, in between kisses, he told me the nature of the punishment I was to have every day for the week ahead:

A morning spanking

A bedtime spanking

No orgasms

The only sex I was allowed was anal sex

Good behaviour would earn me some fingering, but I had to wear the nipple clamps throughout.

He told me all this as we kissed, and my stomach flipped with each one. I was so unbelievably turned on by the cruelty of it.

"But," I'd said, withdrawing from him for a moment to look into his face. We were too close for me to be able to focus on his eyes properly, but I could see that there was a twinkle in them. He was obviously going to enjoy my week-long punishment a lot.

"But..." I said again. "You won't give me a morning spanking this morning surely? Will you...?"

"I told you," he said. "Every morning."

And with that, he effortlessly tossed me over his lap, pulled up my flimsy little nightie, and set about spanking me.

I gasped in shock, and then squealed in pain as his big hand smacked my poor bottom over and over, bringing back all the burning and stinging from my caning.

"OH OH OH OH GOD!" I wailed urgently. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me.

He spanked me continuously, quite hard, for perhaps a minute - although it felt like so much longer. And when he stopped, I was breathing hard, and groaning with arousal.

He stroked my bottom softly, patting it consolingly, and murmuring "Poor baby," and "You've been such a good girl taking your punishment," and so many other little sympathetic phrases that I made little whimpering noises of longing as his fingers strayed so close to my pussy over and over.

"Oh Stephen," I said plaintively. "Please will you touch me? My pussy really needs to be touched."

"Like this?" he asked, and he slipped his fingertips between my engorged pussy lips and played with my slick juices, circling my wet opening, slowly and soothingly. It was maddeningly and intensely pleasurable, and I was like putty in his hands as I moaned and purred and pleaded for more, gyrating my hips against his strong thigh, trying to get his fingers inside me.

He moved his fingers up to my clitoris, spreading my wetness there, back and forth between there and my tight little hole, and I was in heaven. A tortuous heaven where I wanted him to do it to me forever, but I also needed so much more. I needed those big fingers inside me so badly.

But instead of getting what I needed, he did what he wanted - which of course is exactly how it should be as my owner.

His fingers moved now to my anus, using my juices to make that slick and lubricated too, and I pushed back against his fingers despite myself.

It turned out that I was willing to have his fingers inside me anywhere I could get them.

One finger pushed into my bum and I groaned, arching my back to let it slide further in, which he did - inserting his whole finger up into me, and then two fingers. It was so tight, and so degrading in the most deliciously erotic way, as he slowly fucked me like that - my pussy completely ignored now even though it was crying out for attention.

And then, with his thumb outside me, and his fingers deep inside me, and his arm under my hips, he lifted me up and placed me next to him, over the side of the bed, so that he could stand up - never taking his fingers out of me.

He was only wearing pyjama bottoms, and these he rid himself of easily with one hand, and as I watched over my shoulder, his enormous cock sprang up.

Remembering his words, I knew that that was going to be up my bum, and I quaked a little because it looked far too big to fit.

But I knew from experience that it would.

We have a bottle of lube always on the bedside table, and he used it now - still with his fingers inside me - to cover his bell end with it, and I was mesmerised at the sight of his manly hand touching himself. I've always found that an incredible turn on.

And then his fingers slid out of me, to be replaced immediately by that huge bell end, pushing forcefully against my anus.

I had the moment of apprehension as it felt like my anus wouldn't take it, trying to relax my sphincter muscle as the widest part of him slid into me, and I gasped at the flash of pain before it accepted him, and now my bottom was being filled up with it - inexorably, unstoppably - until I think my eyes and mouth were wide with surprise at just how big he felt in my tight little bottom, my sphincter stretched around his large girth, and now his entire cock up inside me.

It felt pleasurable in an aching, deeply erotic sort of way. I don't know if other women can come from anal sex, but I can't - it just keeps me in a constant state of unfulfilled longing. I want it to never stop, but I also know that it will never take me to a climax.

And the whole time he was slowly but powerfully fucking my bottom, I craved stimulation to my poor ignored pussy. The only scant pleasure it got was his balls slapping against it as he fucked me up the arse with short hard thrusts.

My nightie was pulled right up, but obviously not enough for Stephen's tastes because he now stopped fucking me briefly while he leaned forward and pulled it up higher still until it slid under my breasts, catching on my hard nipples, and was gathered round my neck.

Then he grabbed my arms and pulled them behind my back, holding both my wrists together with one hand, pinned to my back.

And then gripping my hip with his other hand, he continued to fuck me.

This extra element of degradation had a powerful effect on me - I was insanely turned on now as he took what he wanted from me, with no thought to my comfort, my bum cheeks stinging intensely from my spanking.

When he came inside me, his cock at its maximum size and hardness, I felt like I nearly orgasmed too. But of course I hadn't - my pussy was more desperate to be filled than ever, only experiencing what it craved vicariously from next door.

Stephen slumped forward over me for a moment, catching his breath, before slowly withdrawing himself from me, and letting go of my wrists.

"Come here," he told me, standing behind me and beckoning.

And so I got up and turned around and let him draw me in for a wonderful hug. I melted my body against him - the firm muscles of his torso against me - his cock, only semi-hard now, against my pubis - and I ran my hands down his back and over his sexy athletic bottom.

My own bottom was burning from my punishment, and I could still feel him inside me.

That was the start to my Saturday.

--

We spent the day pottering - tidying and cleaning the house - a bit of DIY - and then having a big clothes sort out.

I was wearing a short little summer dress - white and flowery - with nothing underneath. I certainly didn't want to be wearing knickers when my bottom was so sore.

I was constantly, distractingly, horny - but since Stephen was nicely satisfied, he was just in "busy" mode and gave no heed to my sexual frustration despite being fully aware of it.

We had all our clothes out on the bed, and Stephen had made a big pile of shirts he didn't wear any more. I had lots of stuff to get rid of as well, and together we filled 3 bin bags full of stuff for the charity shop!

He then got me to tip out all my underwear on the bed too. Any knickers that were remotely normal or modest he put in the charity bag, leaving only the tiniest, skimpiest little things I owned.

These he then picked up and told me he was confiscating for the week, taking them out of the room somewhere - I had no idea where.

Next was my bras. I discarded ones which no longer fitted properly, and Stephen discarded a couple that he didn't find sexy, leaving only 4 bras. These he put into a paper bag and told me to stash in my work bag for Monday. They were to be given to Benjamin for the week.

And so it was that my underwear drawers were now completely empty, and I officially had no underwear to put on. All part of my punishment. I really was being made to pay for being dishonest to Stephen, and even though I knew I'd done a very bad thing, this particular part of my punishment did feel unfair to me.

My fear was that last week Benjamin had explicitly punished me for not wearing underwear in work. And now I had had all my knickers and bras confiscated, and Benjamin knew that. Surely he wouldn't punish me for it, when it was him and my husband who had arranged it?

It was impossible to be sure, and the niggling doubt was constantly there.

Although I was very very turned on by the idea of both Stephen and Benjamin having the right to dominate and discipline me, I was also extremely nervous about it. Stephen was someone I loved and trusted. But Benjamin was an unknown - I had no idea what he might do to me.

And on top of that, there was a very real fear of the pain I might be subjected to over the next 7 days. My bottom was already super sore, and I was already dreading my bedtime spanking. In fact, I realised, including tomorrow's spankings, and my morning spanking on Monday, I had 4 more spankings between now and going into work to face Benjamin.

This realisation stopped me in my tracks, and brought colour to my cheeks, and a powerful rush of arousal to my pussy that stayed for most of the afternoon.

--

On the Saturday evening, we were going out for Gary's birthday - an old school mate of Stephen's. His wife was Laura, and we were all great friends. The only other people I'd know would be Tom and Caroline - both of whom Stephen had been to school with - and I liked them too, although Tom was a bit standoffish I always thought. I could never quite read him, and he made me slightly nervous as a result.

We were getting ready to go out. I'd showered again, and done my hair and make-up, and put on a loose maxi dress. I looked lovely, though I say so myself.

But when Stephen strolled into the room, fresh from the shower wrapped in a towel, he said:

"You look absolutely beautiful Jen, but that's not the dress I want you to wear."

"Oh?" I was a bit annoyed, but of course I acquiesced to what he wanted. "Which one should I wear?"

He went to the wardrobe, flicked through the hangers, and then brought out a figure hugging backless black dress that I'd had for years. I'd worn it on my first date with Stephen, and he loved it.

It was short - but not indecently so. The raciest thing about it was its plunging back which stopped only just short of exposing the top of my buttock cleft, and the fact it left the sides of my breasts exposed.

He came over to me with it and laid it, still on its hanger, on the bed. Then he helped me out of my pretty and comfortable maxidress, rendering me naked in my high heels.

He tossed it onto the bed, and then with his hands on my hips, he pulled me to him to kiss me. He was still damp from the shower, and his skin was cool against my breasts and tummy as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

I wrapped one leg around his as if we were dancing an Argentine tango, and let my supple feminine body mould itself to his, my pussy pressed against his thigh.

"Mmmmm," he smiled, enjoying the sensation, and his hand moved down to my bottom to guide my movements, as I grinded and gyrated against him.

His other hand was on the back of my head, controlling that too as his tongue moved inside my mouth.

I spent the next 5 minutes on my knees, his hand still on the back of my head, my mouth and throat absolutely full of his cock.

--

The bar was only a 15 minute walk away, and it was a beautiful summer's evening. I was wearing my favourite high heels. There wasn't much to them, but what there was was silver and sparkly, and they were as high as I could wear and still walk normally - they made my bare legs look even longer.

The dress was even more insubstantial than I'd remembered, and I felt very sexy in it. I just hoped I wasn't too much - Laura wasn't a particularly glam dresser.

Another thing I'd forgotten about the dress was that it was quite rough on the inside which tickled and teased my sore bottom.

In my horny state, intensified still further by having Stephen's cock in my mouth just before we left, my pussy was very aroused and sensitive, and even just the movement of walking was turning me on. That, and the breeze between my legs.

But the thing that I was most aware of, above all else, was the constant pain in my nipples. Just as we were about to go out the door, Stephen had surprised me by slipping the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders, pulling my dress down to expose my breasts, and then taking my nipple clamps out of his pocket.

Oh god I hated the nipple clamps. And the fact that he was going to make me wear them in public was crazily arousing.

"I did say that you would be allowed fingering as long as you wore the nipple clamps, didn't I," he said.

"Yes," I agreed, biting my lip and looking at him dolefully.

"And you did get fingered this morning didn't you," he added.

"Yes," I said, remembering how beautiful it had felt and wishing that he was doing it to me now, instead of putting those hellish things onto my nipples, which were now treacherously making themselves super hard.

"Good," Stephen smiled. "Then we can make up for that now can't we."

As the first one went on, I sucked air through my teeth. "Ow ow ow," I whimpered.

Ignoring me, he took my other nipple between his finger and thumb and attached the other clamp.

I padded from foot to foot, as if somehow my wriggling would lessen the pain.

The clamps were connected by a delicate gold chain, and he tugged sharply on it to test that the clamps were securely attached, which had the effect of me exclaiming "Aahhhhhh" as my poor sensitive nipples were tortured even more.

Then he'd pulled my dress back up, and pulled the spaghetti straps back onto my shoulders, and smiling at me with a twinkle in his eye, he'd run his thumb along my bottom lip with his fingers under my chin, kissed me, and then announced it was time to go.

Before I followed him out the door, I'd quickly adjusted my breasts, wincing at the way the rough interior of the dress rubbed against my squeezed nipples, and then wrapped my silver feather boa round my neck, carefully positioning it to cover the obvious shapes of the clamps under the thin material of the dress.

And now here I was, heading out for the evening, somehow expected to interact socially with people while keeping the fact I was wearing nipple clamps hidden.

Luckily, the pain had dulled a little - I think I'd gone slightly numb in the 5 minutes I'd been wearing them.

That's why it was particularly cruel, I thought, that just before we walked into the bar, Stephen took hold of the front of my dress, finding the little chain through the material, and gave it three quick yanks.

"Ohhhhhh!!!!!" I cried out, and with the pain renewed, he led me into the busy throng of people.

--

I was glad when I saw that Laura and Caroline were both wearing dresses and looking a bit dolled up, but my dress was definitely the smallest.

We greeted each other with kisses on cheeks and lots of smiles, but my smile was somewhat forced what with the discomfort I was in, and the fear that my boa would slip aside and expose the obvious shape of the nipple clamps under the thin material.

I noticed Tom eyeing me up a lot, which made me a bit self conscious. Probably other men in the bar were too, but it was easier to ignore that.

Tom's gaze frequently strayed to my chest - no doubt hoping that I'd take my feather boa off at some point - and sometimes he would look me up and down, taking in my long bare legs and the curve of my hips under the figure hugging little dress.

But aside from all of those things, it was nice to be out and having a drink - the latter helping with my nerves quite a lot.

Gary seemed to be having a lovely time for his birthday and I suspected that he'd been drinking for a while beforehand.

I think we'd been there for maybe 20 minutes when Stephen leaned in close to my ear and said: "Join me at the bar in a couple of minutes."

And then, publicly he announced he was buying a round.

After checking that everyone wanted the same again, he strode off to the busy bar, which was two or three people deep.

As I'd been instructed, I left it a short while and then told everyone I was going to help Stephen with the drinks, and headed over to where he'd now actually got a spot at the bar. Gripping my feather boa tight, I jostled my way through, people tutting as they grudgingly let me through, and managed to slip in beside Stephen.

He smiled at me.

"Good girl," he said. "I've decided that the clamps can come off now," he added.

"Oh, thank you," I smiled, hugely relieved.

"Take them off now," he said.

My smile faded, as I looked around at all the people - it was so busy that there was no way of doing what he was telling me to do without dozens of people seeing what I was doing.

But an instruction was an instruction - even as I hesitated, I already knew I was going to obey.

He held out his hand expectantly, and so, as subtly as I could, I slipped my hand inside my dress, trying to keep it hidden by the feather boa, and fumbled with the clamp.

The instant that I removed it I gasped as my nipple cried out in pain, the blood rushing to it, and the numbness disappearing at once.

I made eye contact with him and I could see that he was enjoying the expression on my face.

I didn't dare look around the bar to see who was watching what I was doing.

Taking off the other one was equally painful, and as I surreptitiously pulled the clamps out from my dress, connected by their little chain, and placed them on his large hand, I realised I was curling my toes at the pain in my poor nipples.

"Good girl," he grinned, slipping the clamps into his trouser pocket, and then taking the opportunity to pinch my bottom without anyone seeing.

"You can take off that feather boa now," he added with a wink.

I looked down at my chest as I moved the boa slightly, and saw what I expected, which was that my nipples were powerfully swollen and erect under the thin material.

I showed Stephen as discreetly as I could, but to my surprise, suddenly the boa was gone - he had grabbed it behind my neck and pulled it clean away.

My eyes wide in shock, I instinctively covered my breasts with my hands. But then I saw his raised eyebrows and the tiny shake of his head, and reluctantly I dropped them, leaving the world to see the bumps of my embarrassingly hard nipples, made all the harder by my arousal at being treated like this in such a public place.

As Stephen attracted the attention of a bar girl, I chanced a quick look around the bar, and then quickly looked down at my hands as I realised that probably a dozen men and some of the women were looking directly at my breasts. I felt the colour rise in my cheeks, and a tingling in my pussy.

It was a similar story as we returned to our friends. All of them clocked the lack of feather boa, and stared at my nipples, but of course none of them said anything. I had no idea what Stephen had done with the boa - it was gone.

It's fair to say that as the evening wore on, I drank a bit too fast, and a bit too much, but as my inhibitions lowered I ended up having a wonderful evening. By the end of the night, Gary, me, Caroline and Laura were dancing away raucously, while Stephen and Caroline were engrossed in conversation and laughing. I saw him admiring me and smiling.

Of course, when we finally got home at whatever time after midnight, we were both quite drunk, especially me, and I remember being all over him - super horny for him.

It didn't take much effort for him to fully undress me - he just slid the straps off my shoulders, and ran his hands down my sides, slipping the little dress down with them until they were on the bedroom carpet and I was wearing nothing except my high heels.

He was hungry for me, kissing my breasts passionately, and especially my nipples, not taking any care at all, gripping my bottom, and pulling my body against his as I threw back my head in pleasure and desire.

Then he was kissing my shoulders, and my neck and finally my mouth, his hands all over me, groping and pulling and taking what he wanted from me as if my body was his to use. Which it was.

He kissed me like I was his oxygen. I had my fingers in his hair as our tongues moved in each other's mouths, and we grunted and groaned with our need for each other.

Finally, he threw me back onto the bed, and I spread my legs to give him full access to me. My pussy was so wet for him, and I saw the way he looked at it. I grinned broadly and said: "Are you re-thinking the rule about not fucking my pussy?"

"I really am," he said, his eyes consumed with desire. "Touch yourself," he ordered, as he pulled off his clothes.

I did as I was told, and oh it felt so good.

There was a time, early in our relationship, when I was too shy to masturbate in front of him. It felt so exposing. But over time, I came to love that feeling of vulnerability. There was no part of me that I kept from him any more - I was all his.

Once he was naked, I remember thinking that his manly body and that brutally large cock were the sexiest, most erotic thing I'd ever seen in my life.

"Oh god I need that inside me," I told him, as I slid two fingers inside myself, gyrating my pussy against them and thinking how much bigger his cock was going to be.

He leaned over me, his face close to mine, looking into my eyes with an intense desire. He supported himself with one strong arm, while his free hand now slid under mine so that he could gently toy with my clitoris while I fucked myself with my fingers.

What he was doing to me was sending shockwaves of pleasure through my pussy. I knew that he could make me come like this, and he knew it too. I could feel the first stirrings of an orgasm. It was hard to tell exactly what he was doing to me, but it was making my clitoris swell up and become electrically sensitive.

"Oh god Stephen," I groaned slowly, as I pushed my fingers as deep as I could.

Suddenly, he took my wrist in his hand and pulled it away from my pussy, making me whimper in protest. He placed my wrists on the bed above my head.

"Hands above your head, and keep them there," he instructed, as he stood up straight, still fingering my clit.

And then the next thing I knew was the fingers of his other hand sliding into me - so much bigger and more satisfying than my own. And so much deeper.

I began to really moan and groan now as he expertly fucked me with two of his fingers. He had complete mastery over me - he was driving me to a monumental climax, and I was blissfully helpless to resist. Better still, I knew that there was his satisfyingly enormous cock right there, which would surely be moving powerfully inside my pussy very soon.

I wanted to hold on to something so that I could push my body down onto his hand, but with my hands obediently above my head, I had no purchase.

But it didn't matter because that orgasm was growing - spreading through my loins. My muscles clenched in anticipation, my diaphragm pushing a keening note of rising desire from my lips.

And then, oh god, he stopped.

He just stopped.

Then he slowly and gently removed his fingers from my pussy, leaving me lying there writhing and squirming with my legs wide apart, staring at him.

"Please...." I gasped with a shuddering breath. "Oh god, please."

"That's close enough," he told me, a smile at the corners of his lips. And then with one strong hand, he flipped me over onto my front, and dealt my bottom a hard smack which took my breath away.

He took hold of my hips and pulled me to the edge of the bed, so that I was bent over it.

"Bedtime spanking," he announced gruffly, and he spanked me a couple more times.

"Oh god," I moaned over and over, so insanely aroused as he spanked me maybe a dozen more times, just to make sure I was feeling suitably submissive. Which I really was.

I kept my legs apart, pushing my bottom up towards him so that my pussy was open to him, desperate for him to fuck me now. I knew that his cock was just centimetres away - any moment I knew that it would enter me, and I was throbbing for it.

But it turned out I was wrong.

I looked round at him over my shoulder, my hands still obediently stretched out on the bed above my head, and saw that he was putting some lube on his cock. My stomach flipped as I realised that he was following through on his promise to only allow me anal sex.

"Oh god, please," I pleaded again. "My pussy needs you. Please! I'm so fucking desperate!"

"I can see that," he replied. "Just how I like you."

He traced a finger between my pussy lips, and it glided in the slick wetness that was there, ready for him to enter me. I pushed back against him, but his finger had moved to my anus. He nudged his finger into me, lubricated by my own pussy juices, and slid it all the way in, rotating his hand as I let out a deep groan. It felt good - but it was scant pleasure compared to what I craved. What I needed.

And then he removed his finger, and his bell end was next. I tried to keep my bottom relaxed, because I knew from experience how big his cock was up inside that tight passage. But as he pushed, I gasped in surprise because I can never quite remember how it feels until I'm being filled with it again.

I winced as the widest part of him - his super hard bell end - entered me, and my anus stretched to allow his well-lubed shaft to slide steadily into me.

The width was one thing, but his length was the other. I could never believe that his whole cock could fit in my arse, but somehow it did, and I buried my face in the sheets and cried out as he filled me.

"Oh fuuuuuuck....."

I can't tell you how much being fucked up the arse turns me on. It makes me feel so used - so owned. And as he began to slowly fuck me, my ignored pussy throbbed hard at the sensations that it was missing out on.

With every thrust, he was grunting, and holding my hips to pull me against him at the same time. He was inside me up to the hilt, and his strength was such that even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't have stopped him fucking me.

Not that I wanted to stop him. I wanted him to fuck me good and hard. I wanted him to take what he wanted from me, even though I knew it wouldn't give me any kind of climax. I was in my subspace heaven.

I could feel his quads flexing hard, against the backs of my thighs. His cock throbbing, impossibly deep inside my bum - perhaps even growing bigger as his orgasm began to build.

I was crying out louder than him now, gripping the sheets and longing to put my hand between my legs, but being a good girl and just taking what I was being given.

I could hear that his orgasm was imminent, and with a rising urgency in his breathing, he slid himself out of me, making me gasp as his enormous bell end stretched my anus uncomfortably wide, and then I was empty and I could feel his hand knocking rapidly against my bottom as he wanked himself to completion.

If being fucked up the arse by your husband isn't deliciously degrading enough for a submissive like me, then having him then ejaculate over your spanked bottom is the icing on the cake, so to speak.

It landed on me, thick and warm, and I wriggled my arse in a way that I knew he'd find sexy. I was absolutely lost in the moment, drunk with sexual desire, but totally denied any satisfaction. It was perfect.

The hard part was to come though. Being so extraordinarily turned on, with no outlet for it. That's the downside of being someone's sex slave, and it can be very hard to manage.

Stephen was lovely though. He took good care of me, fetching a warm flannel and cleaning me up, and helping me stand and drawing me into his arms.

While he was now sexually satisfied, I was horny as hell and incredibly aware of how his chest felt against my swollen nipples, and his semi-erect cock nudging against my sex.

Even as we hugged, I couldn't help but move my body against his - half in an attempt to stimulate myself, and half to try and tempt him into playing with me. But neither really worked, and after he'd kissed me tenderly and stroked my hair, it was time for bed.

For a long time after we turned out the lights, I lay there incredibly sexually frustrated, draped over his sexy strong body, knowing that I had to lie still even though I was longing to rub my pussy against him.

Yes, it's a hard life being someone's submissive. Particularly when you've been naughty and you're only one day into Punishment Week.

--

Sunday morning brought a fresh spanking, and as I scampered off downstairs to fetch him some breakfast I felt a feeling of total elation and overwhelming joy.

It's hard to explain why. I suppose that I was living out a delicious fantasy, completely naked, with my bottom stinging like mad, as I went off to make him food. For a submissive girl like me, it was bliss.

Although Stephen spanked me often, and dominated me sexually in all sorts of ways, the constant intensity of the last 36 hours was extra exciting.

As I heated croissants and made the coffee, I was hoping that he would play with me when I got upstairs.

After we'd eaten, I plucked up the courage to ask him.

"I know I'm not allowed an orgasm, but would you please touch me for a little while?" I asked him, drawing little circles on his chest with my finger, and biting my lip with embarrassment at asking such a question. I didn't like to ask for things, especially things which admitted how much I loved being his plaything.

He smiled at me and asked me if I was sure. "After all, it's only going to leave you more frustrated than ever. Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes please," I replied timidly, smiling shyly at him. "I mean, I'll hate being so frustrated, but... it's still what I want. If you want to, I mean."

He ran his fingers through my hair while he contemplated my request.

"Well," he said at last, "You do remember that to be fingered you have to wear the nipple clamps? Those were the rules of your punishment week."

My heart skipped a beat. I'd forgotten that. God I hated those clamps, and yet my pussy suddenly got even wetter.

So that was how my day started.

--

I was still in quite a state by the time we got to his parents house for lunch.

They lived in west London, in a lovely Edwardian house not far from Richmond Park. I got along brilliantly with his parents Tony and Elaine, and they welcomed me warmly.

I was wearing my tight blue jeans and a loose fitting green shirt the material of which was quite thick and I hoped would hide my lack of bra. It didn't stop me feeling a bit self conscious as I was drawn into an embrace with both his mum and then his dad in turn. Would they be able to tell?

The jeans might have been a mistake without knickers - they pressed against my pussy lips as I walked, and even as I sat on the bus, and stirred feelings that weren't helpful to me on a visit to my in-laws!

But as we enjoyed a delicious lunch together, and the conversation flowed, my horniness abated, which was a huge relief. A glass of cold white wine relaxed me too.

So in a way it was quite cruel of Stephen to do what he did after lunch.

Tony had strolled with us down the garden to where they'd had quite a large pond installed which we were admiring. The sun was lovely, and not too hot thanks to a gentle breeze, as we looked into the water to try and spot the fish.

But before Tony had finished telling us about all the things he'd been learning about keeping Koi carp, Stephen's mum called him from the house.

"Oh, better go see what's up!" he said, with a little wink at me. He was such a lovely man - but with a real commanding charisma as well. I could see where Stephen got it from.

But well before Tony had even made it half way back up the lawn, Stephen pulled me by the hand behind the summer house where we couldn't be seen, and kissed me up against the warm slats. We both giggled at our teenage behaviour, and my heart swelled with love for him as he planted little kisses on the corners of my mouth, his eyelashes tickling me.

And then, without warning, he spun me round to face the wall of the summerhouse, and I put my hands against it and turned my head to see what he was going to do.

He stood behind me, his crotch up against my bottom, and slid his hands up inside my voluminous shirt which provided easy access for him to my bare breasts.

He held my them in his hands, and softly squeezed my nipples as he kissed the back of my neck, which sent goosebumps down my arms and made my nipples grow even harder for him.

I was instantly wet again, all my unfulfilled horniness returning in an instant.

I gasped as he slid his hands down my tummy to the waistband of my jeans and undid them. I couldn't believe he was doing this in his parents' garden. What if his dad came back?

But before I knew it, he had yanked my jeans down to my knees, and his hands were now all over me, exploring every part of me. And I mean every part of me.

He moved to stand to the side of me, one hand touching my pussy, the other groping my bottom, and I instinctively arched my body and spread my legs as much as was possible with the tight jeans round my knees.

I was groaning now as he literally fingered my wet pussy right there in the sun in his parents' garden.

Then he stopped, and taking hold of my shirt, he began to lift it off me.

I obstinately put my arms hard against my sides to stop him.

"No!" I hissed. "You can't! Your dad might be back any second!"

"He won't," he grinned, leaning backwards a little to peer at the house. "I can see him washing up at the window."

And as he again pulled at the shirt, I acquiesced, and let him lift it up over my head, my arms in the air as the sleeves were pulled inside out, and the cuffs slid off my wrists, and I was rendered completely naked. Well, I suppose I did have my jeans halfway down my legs, and my shoes on - so I wasn't completely naked!

Now you should bear in mind that at this point I had been spanked quite a lot in the last few days. Thursday and Friday by my new boss. Caned by Stephen on Friday evening. And then I'd received morning and bedtime spankings from Stephen ever since - so another three spankings.

My poor bottom hadn't had any point to properly recover before my next spanking had arrived. And I knew that I had another one due tonight, and another in the morning - and that that pattern would continue until Friday evening.

So for that reason, it felt very cruel of Stephen to decide to spank me there in his parents' garden behind the summer house. Especially as I hadn't done anything wrong to deserve it.

But spank me he did. His big hand coming down on my sore bottom over and over, as I offered it to him as best I could by thrusting my bottom up, arching my back - adopting a submissive posture that would please him.

And what Stephen did next brought a fresh realisation to me: Whereas before Stephen had been so measured in his dominance - unquestionably the master of me, but with his use of me being spaced out a little - now, he seemed to have developed an even stronger hunger for it.

It wasn't enough that I'd had all those spankings, and I was now basically naked behind the summerhouse receiving another one. It wasn't enough that I'd orally pleasured him and swallowed his come so many times in the last few days. And it wasn't enough that he'd fucked me up the arse the night before, and left me denied and desperate.

It wasn't enough for Stephen. And I wondered briefly whether this was a turning point - a new chapter in our relationship. Would it be that however much I submitted to his desires, it would never be enough?

The thought excited me beyond belief.

And the thing Stephen did next I still fantasise about now.

For more than two years, we'd been coming to his parents house for occasional Sunday lunches or family celebrations, and never once had he done anything so outrageous with me there.

He pulled his belt out of his trousers - it wasn't his leather belt, but a thinner one made of something synthetic.

I thought he was going to use it to punish my bottom, and I was looking forward to (and simultaneously dreading) the sharp sting I thought it would deliver.

But instead, he roughly grabbed my wrists and put them behind my back. Without my hands, my cheek was forced against the side of the summerhouse as he tied my wrists together with the belt.

Then he squatted down behind me and took off my shoes, and yanked my jeans off me completely, so that I was now truly naked, my bare feet on the dry scrubby grass, the breeze cool between my legs where my pussy was so insanely wet.

My bottom stung powerfully, and having been roughly stripped naked, I could not have felt more submissive or vulnerable to him.

It wasn't just his physical strength - although that was part of it, because he was much much stronger than me and he always positioned my body however he wanted with seemingly no effort whatsoever - but it was also just his complete authority over me. He made me weak at the knees, and I was putty in his hands.

I longed to have his brutally large cock inside me - and I suppose in this respect I got what I wanted because he now pushed me onto my knees, and pulled open the poppers of his trousers.

"Open your mouth," he told me.

And so it was that for the next few minutes he fucked my mouth. And I mean fucked.

He had his hand on the back of my head, gripping my hair, using it for purchase as he slid his cock in and out of me as if he was fucking my pussy.

I had for years been very good at deepthroating a cock, but Stephen's size had taken some practice. Luckily, he had taken care to train me in it over the time we'd been together, and he put it to good use now.

He had never fucked me quite as hard as this, and there were a couple of points where I considered using my safe words.

You might be wondering how I could possibly have used them with my mouth so full, but my safe words are "strawberry trifle" and we had an agreement that anything resembling that pattern of syllables was a safe signal, and he would instantly stop and check. Five taps with a hand or foot, or in this case it would have been five guttural noises: "Ung-Ung-Ung ahh ahh"

But I didn't. The stoic obedient submissive in me was too turned on to stop what was happening. I could not believe that he was using me like this - and I was raging with arousal and lust and pure sexual excitement.

The struggle not to gag, the struggle to not topple over with my hands tethered behind my back, the rough ground against my knees. It all made me feel so completely like I was nothing more than his sex toy in that moment - and that's exactly what I wanted to be.

When he came, I almost came myself, purely from the exquisite denial I experienced as his cock pumped his thick load into my throat, and I gulped it down.

There are few things as inherently wrong as a man fucking the woman he loves in the mouth. It's so degrading. And god I loved it.

He was breathing hard, looking down at me and caressing my head softly.

I could have withdrawn from him at that point, but I chose to keep him there in my mouth as I looked up at him with my eyes no doubt full of lust.

And that's when Stephen's father spoke.

"Oh, I see you're busy!" he said.

My heart stopped. I turned my eyes to see that he had obviously just appeared round the corner of the summerhouse and seen me completely naked on my knees, and his son, his head turned now to face him, fully dressed, obviously with his cock deep in my mouth.

I think Stephen and I were frozen in shock. I didn't even pull away, I just stayed there with my mouth full of him, glowing with embarrassment.

And before either of us could react in any way, Tony smiled and said: "Well don't let me interrupt you. I'll see you inside."

And he calmly turned and walked off.

Still we remained motionless for a moment, before Stephen slid his cock out of my mouth, and looked at me in amazement.

"Fuck!" he laughed, and he put his hand over his mouth as he continued to laugh in shock at what had just happened.

I said nothing, but I began to laugh too, despite myself.

He put himself away, and helped me to stand up. He pulled me to him and put his hands behind my back to untie my wrists - but before he did, he paused, and decided that first he wanted to kiss me. Which he did. Long and slow and sensual - and I melted my body into him, unbelievably horny for him.

You'd think that being caught in the act like that would have made me wish for the ground to swallow me up. But somehow Tony's complete casualness about it stopped me feeling any shame. I felt certain that he wasn't going to make a thing of it, and I suspected he wouldn't even tell Elaine.

In fact I felt... euphoric. This is what it felt like to be Stephen's sex slave, and I couldn't get enough.

---

Lying there in bed on Sunday evening curled up with my husband, I felt so in love with him.

My bedtime spanking had been sensual - almost tender. He was pleased with me as his toy - I had been willing and obedient and pliant and sexy, and I had allowed him to own me in whatever way he wished.

And I knew he truly loved me from how he held me and touched me.

And he was my best friend - we had laughed so much about what happened on our way home. Going back into his parents house and drinking tea, my shirt a little crumpled, my lips a little sore. I'm sure I was blushing, and I'm sure it was noticeable the way I gingerly sat down on my sore bottom. But his mum was completely oblivious. His dad had said nothing at all, but I saw a little twinkle in his eye when he looked at us, and for reasons I couldn't explain at the time, I felt butterflies in my stomach and a stirring in my pussy.

Stephen was everything I'd dreamed of my whole life, and I felt like the luckiest girl alive as I lay there cuddled up with him, thinking about the last couple of days.

There was just that one little worry. That one note of tension that refused to go away.

What did the week ahead hold in store for me, with the new agreement between Stephen and my boss Benjamin?

My mind whirled with possibilities which filled me with both fear and excitement.

But I knew that whatever happened, I needed to tell Stephen everything. No more secrets. I would be an open book. Because after all, if I was going to be his perfect submissive girl - which I aimed to be - then I needed to be as open and vulnerable and honest as I could possibly be. And I trusted him to own me just as fully as I gave myself to be owned. And I trusted that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to me.

And it was with this comforting thought that I finally drifted off to sleep.