Seeing her body spread eagle on the St. Andrew Cross with her body all white and only her chest patchy red brought back memories. She looked wonderful and for a moment, I wanted to take her then and there. Not yet. A watched pot never boils. I couldn’t resist the sight of her breasts, which stood out like a lighthouse, and my hands were drawn to them. I didn’t look at her face, just at those unnatural red breasts that proudly stood out, radiating heat. My hands felt them before actually touching them. I opened one bottle.
“Are you hot, would you like some water”, I asked, finally reaching her eyes.
She only nodded.
“These two are on fire and could definitely use some cooling off.”, I said and poured the ice cold water royally over her tits, down her belly, over her legs and cunt to the floor. She shrieked and definitely filled the entire room with her voice this time.
“Oops, too low”, I said and opened the second bottle and hold it gently to her lips. I tilted the bottle so she could drink, but kept it there so she either had to continue drinking or let it run down her mouth. Although she downed the water, the pool of water beneath her was continuously growing in size. After the bottle was empty, I grabbed a towel and dried the floor so nothing bad would happen to our bedroom ceiling below.
I untied her ankle cuffs first and checked if there were no circulation problems. As the cuffs were comfortable, there weren’t. Subsequently, I set free her arms from the raised position, enabling the blood to circulate naturally. With a metal leash attached to her collar, I directed her towards the pillory. I took her posture collar off and replaced it with a simple dog collar. I could adjust the height of the block with the three holes so she could sit on her knees or nearly stand straight, and all positions in between. Carefully, I brought it down and made sure it was firmly secured at her navel height.
“Don’t stand there watching me do all the work, girl. 10 jumping jacks and I want to see those titties move up and down.”
She jumped like an elderly woman ready for a nursing home.
“You can do better than that, girl, and you know it. They are called jumping jacks for a reason. I want to see some air between the floor and your feet. Clap your hands and count them.” It helped. She was jumping higher now, and I stopped working so I could enjoy her modest titties move. When she finished, she was panting slightly.
“Good girl. Well done. Now the rest of you are warmed up a little. We will start warming your butt a bit.”
I was all warm myself now, so I took all my clothes off, throwing it on a heap on the ground. It was the first thing she berated me about after we got married. Like most man I was now housebroken enough to fold my clothes neatly before I went to bed. This childish gesture was a symbolic transfer of power the other way again. Tarzan liked to be freed from its confinement, and the stiff rod jumped from left to right as I walked to my slave girl.
“Bend over, girl. Make sure I don’t hurt you when this thing drops on your neck, even if it slips through my fingers.”
That was enough motivation for her to take her position real quick. Not completely at a right angle, but bending slightly forward, her ass was higher and made a perfect aim for my cane.
“The tit flogging was just fun, little one, and is not a punishment. This rattan cane here is a different cookie and I’m not sure you’ll like the taste of that one. But I want to clarify that I will not tolerate this behaviour in the future. So lesson in five parts. This time I’ll put a gag in your mouth, since I don’t want to damage my hearing.”
I grabbed my boxers and a roll of duct tape. Slowly, I inserted the part that was wet from my pre-cum on her tongue until her mouth seemed stuffed enough. To prevent her from gagging, I decided not to go too deep. The duct tape was tightly wrapped around her head. Oh, she’s got another one wrapped around her head, just for amusement.
“Well, this is your first introduction to this beautiful instrument. I do not know how hard I should hit. Reports have circulated regarding caning sessions where the cane left deep, permanent marks on the flesh.”
“I don’t want you to call me a pussy. Until now, one might think that I would not be capable of delivering you a decent punishment.” I continued tapping the cane softly up and down. Within seconds, goosebumps covered her body. Another first.
“Be grateful that you won’t have to count again, nor have to ask for the next one. Send a little thank you prayer for small mercies. After I caned you properly, I will fuck you as hard as I can. And you can thank ME later that I will fuck your wet pussy instead of your dry ass. OMG, your pussy is really wet! I smelled my wet fingers and put them in my mouth and sucked my fingers noisily. You smell not only good, you taste delicious little one. Too bad this is all about me, otherwise I would have eaten you through several good cums. Ah, well, that’s life.”
As soon as I had spoken those words, I raised the cane and hit her left buttock. For two long seconds, nothing happened, and then her scream filled the air, despite the gag. The muffled sound reminded me of labour screams. Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably and for nearly a minute. If you think a minute is short, take your phone, stare and see how long it takes for the numbers to change. That minute was enough to make me feel like shit. What kind of man would take pleasure in causing so much harm to his woman? Why was I using a cane, an instrument I knew would inflict terrible pain and harm? What the hell was I doing? I could clearly see a thick welt appear where the cane had landed, leaving a mark on her moon. I wanted to touch the welt, but I chickened out of it. Brave enough to hit. A coward to face the consequence.
My first instinct was to take the gag out of her mouth, untie her, kiss her tears away and hold her in my arms. I don’t know why I didn’t, but I saw my wrist moving again, tapping her right buttock softly again. I didn’t want to think. All I wanted was to be done with this. Perhaps I was too scared to hear what a pussy I would be if I stopped the punishment she said she craved for.
SMACK. This one covered more flesh and was as hard, if not harder, than the first stroke. If I thought her reaction was extreme after the first stroke, I ain’t seen nothing yet. Here’s something that I’m never gonna forget. It looked more like a seizure than anything else. I didn’t know if I had to call 112 or go on. This time I didn’t wait, but delivered the last three strokes in a row. As I glanced downward, I fully expected to see Tarzan to be flaccid. But he wasn’t. He was as stiff as he could be and complaining he wanted his pussy. Again I hesitated. Could I fuck her right now, adding undoubtedly more pain? Two of the welts had a bit of blood blotting, but the rest were just angry red stripes. A symbol of my anger towards myself.
What I did was take her gag off. I wanted her to breathe freely again and to tell me if she needed emergency help or not. All that came out were unintelligible words, moans, and soft cries when I removed the gag.
“Fuck me.” It sounded so soft I couldn’t hear it clearly.
“What?” I said.
“Fuck me”, she cried at the top of her lungs.
So I did. Tarzan had a field day. Her pussy was not nearly as wet as it had been before, but wet enough to slip into her with one stroke until the root of my cock. Slowly, I pulled out until only the head was in and pushed all the way back down.
“Harder!” orchestrated Sylvia.
So I did. I fucked her harder until Tarzan took over on its own and determined its own pace for release. She flinched every time my pelvis hit her welts, but the brutal fucking made me grab her hips and seek my pleasure without bothering about hers. This wasn’t me, always aware of her enjoyment, but not this time. This time it was feral, an animal seeking his own release and doing everything to get there.
It didn’t take long. My balls hurt when they finally released all their swimmers to go on a fruitless journey.
As I pulled out, my semen poured out of her pussy against the inside of her thighs. Tarzan was wet from our combined juices. Without thinking, I walked around to the front of the pillory and held my dick against her lips. Without further instructions, she took my almost limp dick in her mouth and cleaned every bit. Half hard, I took it out of her mouth. It had been enough for now. I raised the heavy top part of the pillory and helped her to stand straight. Not only her backside hurt, her back as well from the bent position she had been in.
I took her into my arms, and she started sobbing.
“Shhh, little one. I forgive you, little one. You did well. I am very proud of you. Shhh, calm down, pretty one. You are safe now. You are in my arms where you belong. Give me a kiss, little one.”
She gave me a kiss with trembling lips. “I’m so sorry, Master.” She said, with a tremble in her voice.
“Don’t worry, little one. All has been forgiven and forgotten. Let’s take a shower together and let me take care of your wounds.”