DISCIPLINE

Alex broke the kiss and looked at his student with a sigh. He'd been negligent, enjoying the physical aspect without paying enough attention to the mental aspect. Still, there was still time to remedy that.

He sat on the love seat and took in the luscious morsel before him. Clad only in garters, stockings and high heels, she looked both vulnerable and scared. Still, her nipples appeared hard as rocks, and her body language almost screamed "fuck me." Good. Time to add some more powder to the mix.

"Cunt, you've collected quite a few punishment points, which you should've been keeping track of. So, tell me, how many do you have?"

He watched as she became more and more confused, and just a little scared, as she realized that she had no idea.

"Well? That was one of the rules we went over, wasn't it? That you would keep track of your punishment points? I want an answer now! How many???"

"I, I don't know," she stammered, her eyes never leaving the floor.

"You don't know?" he bellowed at her, inwardly smiling as she shriveled some more. "Well, you just got two more than 'you don't know' for not calling me sir. Do you think I don't deserve your respect?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir, um, you deserve my respect," she replied meekly.

"Well, at least you got it right that time. And since you don't know how many swats you were given, I'm gonna have to guess. And I'm guessing it was...19. Plus the two you just got makes 21. So maybe 21 swats will help your memory."

Alex knew the actual number was 17, but he didn't want to go too much higher on the first spanking. She'd get plenty more before the night was over.

"Since you don't know the proper spanking position yet, I'm going to take you over my knee. First, remove your garters. I don't want anything getting between my hand and your ass. Now lay over my legs..."

He positioned her butt squarely over his knees, giving him a good view of her well-shaped globes. His cock poked its way through the opening in his shorts; he'd have to get inside her after disciplining her. He didn't really have enough room for a full swing, but figured he could get up enough speed to get her attention. That's all this first spanking was for, anyway.

"You'll supply the count, down from, what was that number?" He waited while she said, "The count is 21, sir." "Yes. Twenty one sweet smacks. Don't lose track, or we'll have to start all over. And then I'd have to show you what a real spanking is like."

He brought his hand down hard on her right cheek, and smiled when she yelped. No, my sweet Melissa, this isn't the playful spanking you might try with your husband. This is the kind that turns your ass pink, that makes your skin steam, that turns your cunt into a sopping wet sponge. He randomly lightened and strengthened his efforts, adding an element of uncertainty. During his own training, he'd come to appreciate that uncertainty. It gave one something besides the pain to focus on.

In no time at all he heard her pronounce "One." He gave her another swat just for the heck of it, and was pleased that she'd learned enough not to protest. In time, she'd understand that this situation was just like life -- sometimes punishment came for no reason at all.

Her rested his hand on her ass, her warm skin pleasantly heating his. Her butt and the back of her legs were tinged pink, but he didn't see anything that would leave a permanent mark. That was the primary difference between doing his work and having a live-in sub. With the live-in, you could leave a woman red, you could have her cut her hair, or shave her pubes, or whatever, just to please you. He, however, was constrained to those things that wouldn't be noticed, even by a woman's husband. He supposed it was one reason he preferred the psychological to the physical.

His physical needs, however, needed a little attention. His cock was rock hard, and the sight of her sopping wet pussy lips peeking out from between her legs was making him ache with desire. So far he hadn't really sampled her. Probably going too far to prove to himself that it wasn't just physical; that he was here to do a job. Enough of that.

Without a word he shifted her to the floor, where her legs naturally fell open. Her pube hairs were matted with moisture; it looked as though she really enjoyed her spanking. Without a bit of foreplay (as if she hadn't had enough!) he crawled between her legs and plunged his cock inside her. She moaned a little, as did he. Even wet as a puddle, she still felt very tight.

He started a slow rhythm, humping into her while bending to suckle her tits. He varied his pace, not wanting to cum too fast. Every so often she would raise her hips to meet his thrusts, their pelvises bumping together violently. Her head writhed from side to side, her hair plastered to her forehead by sweat. He wanted to stare into her eyes, show her his power, but she had her eyes clenched shut. He permitted her this, but vowed to make it up to himself later.

She trembled beneath him, once, twice, as the muscles around her cunt spasmed from the friction. Many masters required their slaves to ask permission to orgasm. Alex believed in rewarding his slave for giving him pleasure -- she could cum at any time. He knew that some women didn't believe that those little spasms were orgasms. They only wanted the big, soul-wrenching, body-clenching orgasm...the female equivalent of the cum shot. Women had made so much progress in society, yet they still measured themselves against men in so many little ways.

Alex let his animal instincts take over, and pounded into her like a jackhammer. Now her eyes flew open, and reflected in her eyes he saw the beast inside him, the wildness, the predator. He could feel the pressure building as he slid into her again and again, and then he stopped, and then slowly and deliberately thrust into her, over and over, each thrust accompanied by a spurt of his cum deep inside her. As he looked down at her, he felt he truly owned her now. And he knew she knew it.