Iveta’s Punishment Synopsis

Iveta, a Latvian girl working as a house-help while she studies at university, borrows the key and sneaks into the cellar and finds out at first hand about the cellar’s use and the owner’s penchant for BDSM when she is caught returning the key.

Iveta’s Punishment

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF NC. Spanking

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2010

“Please put the key away where you found it Iveta, and then go into my office.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I know I shouldn’t have...”

“Save your apologies or excuses till later, Miss Vanags, we’ll go through them when my wife is up.”

I put the key back in its box, returned it to the bureau in the lounge and with much trepidation, followed him into his office. “Stand in that corner with your nose close to the wall and your hands on your head. Stay there until I come back with Elise,” he ordered.

I turned in surprise at the instruction and started to speak but he repeated the order and I deemed it wise to obey. “Why did I let my curiosity about what lay behind the big oak door in the cellar?” I asked myself as I stood facing the wall and shaking with fear at the thought of what he might do to me. Certainly I couldn’t deny I had been in there because he’d caught me red-handed carrying the huge, church door type key when I returned to the kitchen. “Why did he return this morning when normally he plays golf on a Sunday? I saw him leave and didn’t hear the car return. I had my suspicions they used the room for sex parties on some Friday nights as they made me stay in the upper rooms, but I never suspected they were into whips and things.” I trembled further when I wondered if the master, Peter Graves, would take me down then and tie me to the cross or put me over the whipping bench and use some of the whips, straps and canes on me. “Perhaps I deserve that but it has been many years since I felt father’s belt on my bare bottom. What happens at those parties? Do they have sex slaves they flog and fuck? The probably don’t do it all that hard otherwise there would be complaints and I’ve never heard anything when I’ve been above them in the kitchen. I rarely see them either because they use the side entrance, but they arrive in expensive looking cars. Perhaps he’ll just want to fuck me; well I suppose I wouldn’t mind that. He’s pretty distinguished looking for a fifty year old man and Elise is still a beautiful woman. How much longer have I to stand here waiting like a naughty schoolgirl for him to come? A twenty-three years old schoolgirl, well I do go to university. Will he throw me out and force me to return home in disgrace? Maybe I should just leave before he harms me? But where would I go? I’ve not saved much money from my work here yet. Ah, I think they are coming.”

“Kneel on the floor in front of my desk, Miss Vanags.” Another order I felt compelled to obey despite the humiliation of doing it in front of his wife. Colonel Peter Graves stood rigidly behind his desk and his wife, wearing only a dressing gown, sat in his leather chair. “Iveta, I am saddened that you betrayed the trust I placed in you, which is a great shame because in the month you have been here, your work and attitude have been exceptional and you have an excellent command of our language. Had that not been the case, we would have dismissed you immediately. The fact that you went into the cellar and snooped around...”

“I only peeped in, Sir,” I lied.

“BAMM!” his fist hit the desktop, “Don’t make it worse by lying girl, I’d been in the kitchen three-quarters of an hour when you came up. You must have been there much longer and had time to play with the things we keep for our parties. Did you play with them Iveta? The truth girl.”

“Yes, Sir,” I nodded and tears began it trickle down my cheeks.

“Does your knowledge of English extend to knowing what BDSM means?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, then you’ll know the sort of parties we have down there. How did you feel when you handled the whips and cuffs? Did they arouse you sexually? Is that why you stayed for so long? What were you thinking about when you lay on the whipping bench, as I’m sure you did? The truth again girl.”

Should I admit that I became very wet and had played with myself? Should I admit I wondered how it would feel to be naked and whipped in front of others? And I had laid on the whipping bench and spread my legs and imagined others were looking at my arse being reddened and my cunt moving as I squirmed under the cane. Little by little he eased my thoughts from me and I admitted my arousal. “But Sir, I am intelligent enough to know that fantasy and reality are not the same thing. Imagining the sting of the whip is not the same as feeling the pain for long afterwards and I’m not sure that I’d find myself aroused by the suffering,” I added.

“There is only one way to find out, Iveta. In view of your behaviour, I’ll give you two choices. One, to pack your things and leave, or two, subject yourself to a full body whipping and allow me to fuck you afterwards. The whipping will hurt for a few days but will not scar you.”

“What is a full body whipping, Sir. If it is what I think it is, I don’t think I could take it.”

“Show her Elise.”

Elise hadn’t spoken the whole time and I knew she rarely said very much when in his presence but spoke freely when we were alone. Abruptly she stood, shed her gown and pirouetted slowly twice to show me the red stripes that covered her back, arse, thighs, belly and tits. They’d had time to fade since Friday but allowing for that, they didn’t look awfully raw and certainly there were no deep marks or places when the skin had been broken. If she could take it, then so could I. “He’s good with the flat whip. You’ll hurt and scream especially when the lash hits your nipples but the worst of the pain fades fairly quickly and then there’s a soreness and warmth that makes you horny, or it does me.”

“Will you be there, Ma’am?”

“Of course.”

“Won’t it upset you to see your husband fuck me afterwards?”

“No, I’ve seen him fuck many women and he’s seen men, and women too, fuck me. Once it is all over I’ll do what I can to ease your pain. I guess the whipping is your chosen option?”

“There wasn’t a real choice. I’d have difficulty in finding another place where I can work and study at the same time and I dare not go home in disgrace. Do you wish to do it now, Sir?”

“Yes, Iveta, then I can go out for a round of golf afterward although my game might suffer.” The master retrieved the key and led the way to the cellar. Elise put her arm around my shoulders to steady my shaking and whispered words of comfort.

“Undress Iveta, you can put your clothes on the whipping bench, we won’t be using that today,” Sir said quietly as he started to undress too.

Now the time had come, I felt like running but knew I couldn’t and with Elise helping to undo my buttons it only took moments before I stood naked in front of them. Peter’s stout prick stood out proudly and I wished he’d fuck me and forget about the whipping. No such luck. Almost before I realised it, cuffs were on my wrists and my arms were being pulled towards the ceiling. Peter fastened my ankles to spread my legs and when they were held, Elise pulled my arms to their highest. “Cry out and scream but don’t abuse him otherwise he’ll hit harder,” she whispered in my ear.

Peter took his time admiring me and commented, “I wondered what you looked like under those bulky clothes and now I find out you’ve been hiding a rather nice body, slim and shapely, blonde bush to match your hair, and full firm tits. Been a little while since I’ve had a girl as young as you. Lovely arse. You had a prick up it?”

“No!” I shook my head vigorously but he grinned and said, “Not today.” His picking up a whip didn’t allow me time to ponder on his answer. I’d picked the same whip up earlier and swished it around and thought it a fearsome weapon but hadn’t envisaged it being used on me for real. I guessed the working part to be at least a metre long and three centimetres wide at the handle end, half that at the tip, and made of a soft leather. Swung with any force, it would hurt and hurt badly even if it didn’t break the skin.

“It’s the same one as I used on Elise,” he informed me but I didn’t find much comfort in that.

“Swish, SNAP!” “Aaaahh!” Peter had walked behind me and swung the whip across my shoulders without any warning. I felt the burning pain but thought I could stand it and indeed I did but I couldn’t help crying out as he worked the strokes down my back. Although I couldn’t see, I knew he varied the intensity of each one until he reached my arse and then, he hit hard, six times in a row. I yelled and screamed and wriggled as much as my bonds allowed but I couldn’t escape and I knew he wouldn’t grant me any reprieve. He hadn’t done that to Elise. She stood in front of me, smiling in the knowledge that she’d already had her session and now I was being made to suffer.

Peter’s prick stood proud and hard when he walked around and prepared to lash my front. Being able to see the whip heading its painful way to my body was, in many ways, much worse; I could anticipate its arrival and not be able to get out of the way or prevent the pain. “No, please, you’ve hurt me enough,” I pleaded but he smiled and lifted the whip. Once more he varied the intensity of the strokes until he reached my tits and the three strokes across them were probably the most painful of them all, or were until he lashed one upwards between my spread legs to “warm my cunt in readiness,” as he put it.

Although I’d taken many lashes (Elise later counted forty-two stripes) and my whole body felt very sore, I knew from my experiences with father’s punishments, that Peter hadn’t been overly severe and that he tried to provide sexual stimulation as well as punishment. Nevertheless, I heaved a sigh of relief when he tossed the whip on to a table and thrust his hand between my legs and massaged my mound and clit. The welcome rubbing stimulated my juices and I soon became very wet. “Oooh, you are a hot one Iveta, nice and ready for fucking with my hard prick, that’s something I’ve wanted to do since you came but I didn’t expect to be able to whip you as well. A big bonus.”

Indeed, the sight of his prick bobbing around as he lashed my front combined with the clit stimulation, made me horny and I cried out, “Fuck me, Sir, fuck me hard!” He didn’t waste any time teasing me but thrust into my cunt and I felt my opening being stretched more that ever before. As far as my bonds would allow, I thrust back and, at one point, saw Elise standing and smiling and certainly not looking annoyed at her husband’s adultery. All too soon and long before I climaxed, Peter shot his load and withdrew, no doubt the stimulation of whipping me brought on a early ejaculation. He nodded to Elise who immediately knelt and sucked his prick clean and I wondered on her role as sex slave or wife, maybe a combination of both.

“See to her Elise, Don’s picking me up for golf soon, we’ve a late tee-off time today because I had to drop the car off for servicing.” Before leaving he gave me a hug, kissed me fully on the lips and pushed his tongue in my mouth like we were lovers, perhaps after what happened we were. “You took that very well Iveta, I gave you more than Elise and did it harder because yours was a punishment whipping instead of sexual arousal. Well done, I hope we can play some more in the future.”

Elise didn’t release me immediately, instead she cuddled and French kissed me and worked her mouth down my body and suckled and massaged my tender tits and aroused me further. Gradually her tongue travelled down my stomach, pausing to lick my belly button before attacking my cunt and bring me to my orgasm. “Thank you,” I said softly, rather bewildered at my having my first experience, and an enjoyable one at that, with a woman.

“I’ll take you upstairs now and get some painkillers. They’ll take the edge of the soreness and then we’ll shower and have a little more fun together.”

Later, after having a real lesbian experience in a bed and having performed in the sixty-nine position, we cuddled and lying side-by-side in her bed, talked quietly. “You’ve been punished before, haven’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, but not since I left home a few years ago.” My mind flashed to those times when I lay naked on the single bed that served as a couch in the lounge of my lowly Latvian home, to suffer twenty hard strokes of father’s belt on my arse while the rest of the family looked on, or when my sister or brothers suffered on that bed and I watched. Of course, she wanted to know all the details and I did my best to describe the scenes. “There was never sex involved although the sight of a naked person being strapped, did arouse us. It did father too and he usually took mother into the bedroom shortly after. Nearly always my brothers had an erection while standing and being lectured before the punishment but that disappeared afterwards and no mention was ever made of it. Twice that I remember, mother earned a thrashing and the sight of her large tits and fat bum, certainly gave the boys hard-ons.”

“Peter will probably invite you to join us in bed and I’m certain he will want to fuck you again, how will you react to that?”

“I don’t want to become a sex slave or a fuck toy.”

“It’s not like that Iveta. You will be able to refuse and things will go back to more or less how they were, well perhaps not quite. We cannot forget what happened and will often think about it, you will especially. Did the whipping give you any pleasure?”

“Not really, too much pain for that, but I think the sight of his and your nakedness aroused me a little, not the whipping though although there’s a warmth in my tits, arse and cunt now which is keeping me a little wet.”

“I’m sure Peter will try and seduce you but you won’t be raped or taken to the cellar without your consent. I hope you will agree to come to bed with us though, so that we can make love again.”

He did invite me that evening. After questioning me on the state of my body and my feelings during the whipping, he went on, “Any time you feel like having a good fuck, come to our room and slip into bed. Come tonight if you like.” I made my excuses but didn’t rule out the possibility for the future.

Sleep took a long while to come to me that night. I lay awake going over the events of the day and debating whether to take the risk and go to their bedroom one night, but I knew if I did it once, it would be the first of many. The main pain from my thrashing had eased but I felt it each time I moved or put pressure on my arse or tits. Gently massaging these areas helped but aroused me sexually and I masturbated to a climax twice before succumbing to sleep.

One of my chores each weekday, is to get up at 6:30 and put the coffee on, lay the table for breakfast and be ready to make toast when he arrives down dressed and ready to go to his office. Normally I wore a dressing gown over my pyjamas but that night I feared the material would chafe my welts and slept naked and in the morning decided to just wear my dressing gown, after all, he’d seen everything I had to show. “Let me see,” he ordered when he entered the dining room, and after I’d shown him my now colourful welts, he commented, “Get Elise to put some more cream on before you go to college. You know, we would have cared for you if you’d come to our room last night.” I nodded but didn’t answer.

Elise almost made me late for college with her prolonged massaging the cream into my sore flesh. It did ease the stiffness that built up during my sleep and she promised to do it again in the evening. By wearing my loose baggy clothes and no bra, I got through my day without anyone suspecting and things returned to normal when I arrived home. First I had Uni work to do and then helped Elise prepare dinner. University work again afterwards until nearly 9 o’clock, when I went downstairs to watch a little TV with them before bed and I asked Elise if she would give me another massage. “Only if you do me as well,” she giggled and I knew the rubbing of the cream would be openly sexual.

Peter looked in as I lay on a large towel on their bed but he only watched for a short while and came back later after being in the bathroom, and looked on as I straddled his wife who lay face up on the towel and I massaged her tits. “When you two have finished playing, perhaps I can get to bed. Some of us work for a living you know,” he smiled and added, “You can join us Iveta and continue playing.” Almost by default, I found myself between the sheets with Peter on one side and Elise on the other. Two pairs of hands roamed my body but they felt nice and I returned the favour by caressing Peter’s prick and Elise’s cunt. Inevitably, despite him saying he wanted to sleep, Peter rolled on top and fucked me hard, and this time I came before he did. I slept well that night.

“Hi Iveta, I’m home.” I left my assignment work and went downstairs to greet her and to see if Elise would like my help in preparing the dinner and immediately noticed her flushed appearance. I’d noticed it a few times during my stay but never suspected the reason.

“You look pleased with yourself,” I commented but almost making it a question.

“Yes, I visited one of the Friday wives and she’s a top and gave me a good poking with her strap-on, back and front and then I had to get her off by sucking her clit and she’s very hairy. We both had a good time.” She filled me in on some of the things they did and then said, “You should have sucked Peter after he fucked you last night and let me or him clean you up, then I wouldn’t have needed to change the sheets this morning.” I apologised but laughingly she went on, “I think you’ll have to give him a blowjob next time as a punishment, you’ll need to know how to do that anyway. Have you done that before?” I shook my head, no, and wondered why I needed to know how to do it, rightly suspecting they’d invite me to one of the Friday gatherings.

*****

I held Elise’s hand as Peter led us down the stairs to the cellar by the leashes fastened to our collars. Everyone’s here.” Peter informed us, “And the party’s been going for half an hour and they’re are awaiting your entrance before we start the sessions.”

In the three weeks since my induction into their lifestyle, I’d spent many nights in their bed and been introduced to oral and anal sex. True to his word, Peter never forced me to do anything and I frequently had to forgo their companionship because of work on assignments until late in the night. His powers of persuasion though, were usually greater than my will to resist, hence my being led as a slave to a Friday evening gathering.

The hubbub in the cellar quietened when we entered and then burst into spontaneous clapping as we mounted a small dais. “Ladies and gentlemen, masters and slaves, welcome to The Cellar. As usual, we’ll deal with any punishments needed for slave infringements during the past month and then if masters wish to cast their slave into the lottery, we’ll draw lots to find who are paired for the evening, or longer if by mutual agreement.”

Blushing because I knew all eyes were on me, I looked around at the six couples and a singleton standing alone at the back. Four of the couples had a naked or nearly so, female alongside them, and two couples where the woman had control of a male. One, a woman in her late thirties, dressed in leather with her tits exposed and carrying a riding crop, definitely looked the part and she’d already striped her slave’s arse. The other probably older, had short-cropped hair and wearing a dark business suit had a grey haired man kneeling at her feet. Most of the others were men in the middle to older age range mostly with younger, but not young, slaves, kneeling at their feet.

“First, let me introduce two new members; Master Graeme Tillingsworth, Geoffrey and Susan’s son who are also here and slave Iveta Vanags, who is from Latvia and is part of my household. She’s been in the cellar twice before, the first time alone after she’d stolen the key to the main door and spent time looking around. I caught her returning the key and brought her back down for a full body whipping. Since then she’s been more cooperative.” Looking at Graeme, a much younger man I sensed a set-up and Peter’s next words proved me right. “It’s would be churlish of me to keep two slaves while Graeme has none, so for this evening, and longer by arrangement, I’m passing Iveta over to him.” Amid more applause, he gave my lead to Graeme, “I suggest you take her to the alcove in the corner where you can talk without disturbing the rest of us, Graeme, and get to know your slave and she gets to know you.”

He took me to the bench seat and made me sit on his lap so he could play with my tits. His rugged appearance created a good impression but he seemed a little nervous at having a naked girl on his lap in front of other adults. I guessed he wasn’t too much older than me, hence my belief that there’d been some behind the scenes matchmaking.

By then most of the men had removed at least some of their clothes and their slaves fondled their pricks. Peter, acting as master-of-ceremonies, asked, “Before we start the interchange of slaves, has anyone had disciplinary problems with their slaves that require the use of our facilities?”

“Yes, Peter, I wish to use the whipping bench to correct this lazy, incompetent, apology for a servant,” the woman in the business suit spoke up.

“Would you care to explain the reasons, Ms. Denford?”

“Twice I came home and found the house not properly cleaned, dust around ornaments where they hadn’t been moved for cleaning. Each time I gave him twenty strokes of the cane and his behaviour improved for a week. Four days ago I came home early to find him sitting drinking wine and found he’d not cleaned the spare room for weeks. I raised thirty welts on his buttocks and promised to repeat the punishments before you all and with him firmly fastened down.” Everyone quickly worked out that he’d receive seventy strokes of the cane and I heard several comments that his arse would break open if he received that number on top of the welts already there. However, Ms. Denford only smiled and waited before going on, “Of course, I don’t want to injure the poor man, so I will use the rubber paddle instead of the cane.” When the man stood, I noticed he’d had a gag in his mouth and his genitals were encased in a cage arrangement and wondered if she ever allowed him to fuck her. Graeme interrupted my musing by nibbling pleasingly at my nipples and then Peter addressed the gathering.

“While Ms. Denford’s slave is being secured, are there any masters who wish to swap their slave for the evening?” Three did including Graeme’s father. Two couples had arranged a straight swap and to accommodate Geoffrey, Peter agreed to swap Elise for Susan. I wondered how Graeme felt about that but his interest lay in my tits.

A loud crack, brought our attention to the whipping bench and distracted Graeme enough for him to ask, “Would you suck my prick?”

“Are you the master or am I?” I answered cheekily.

He realised the implication. “Kneel between my thighs and start sucking before I put you on the whipping bench or string you up like they are doing with those other women.”

I quickly looked around. Ms. Denford unmercifully hit her slave’s arse and I wondered what hold she had over him to keep him with her. I thought the things that happened at the meetings were more or less voluntary so he should be able to refuse. Two of the swapped wives were being strung up, back-to-back, to the pulley system Peter used on me and I guessed they’d be frontally whipped together. Susan already had Peter’s trousers off and offered him a leather belt and Geoffrey had his prick in Elise’s arse but I lost sight of the scenes when I opened Graeme’s flies and took out his fully hard prick. “Nice one, I hope you’re going to fuck me with it before long,” I muttered as I pulled his trousers and pants off and closed my lips around it.

“Not until I’ve had you over the whipping bench,” he smiled and I wondered if the threat was serious. The erotic surroundings must have had their effect on him because he quickly shot his load in my mouth and, as a result of Peter’s training, I automatically swallowed it and hoped he wouldn’t think badly of me for doing so.

For a while I sat on his lap again, and he played with my tits while we chatted about the scenes being played before us. Ms. Denford finally finished chastising her slave and made him stand against the wall to display his arse while she walked disdainfully around and watched the other guests. “Her thrashing of that poor man almost made me sick, and I’m glad I didn’t have to watch much of it,” I commented to Graeme and he agreed and like me wondered how he could take it and not leave or complain to the authorities. Graeme’s mother draped her body on the whipping bench and displayed her arse and cunt ready for Peter’s attention. “Have you seen her like that before?” I asked Graeme.

“Yes, Dad punishes her at home and I’ve watched but he never hits really hard, not like that woman did. I’ve never done anything to her. Will you make a fuss if I put you on the bench when they’ve done? You can choose the strap and I won’t do it overly hard.”

“I expect they’ll expect me to have a sore arse when I go to my room, although I don’t really want one. At home, spankings were only punishments and not for pleasure, or the pleasure of the master.” Peter finished spanking Susan and then fucked her as she lay there. “You’ll do me afterwards, I hope.”

He gave me about twenty-five swats with a soft suede flogger that I chose, which stung and made my arse red but the pain was bearable and when he fucked me afterwards, I came long before he did.

We returned to our seat and cuddled and talked without saying much about our personal lives. Many of the others were huddled together too and we noticed his family in a huddle with Peter and Elise. Before long, Geoffrey came over, “Graeme, we are going to spend the night here and you can too if Iveta agrees to your company, if not you can take the car home and pick us up in the morning about noon.”

The thought of spending the night with Graeme pleased me but I had Uni work to do the next day. “It’s okay for him to sleep with me but I need to catch the 9 o’clock bus to Ravensdale to collect geology specimens for my course and I have to submit preliminary findings on Monday, so I’ll have to kick him out long before noon.”

“Hey, I’ll come with you. It’s been a while since I went to Ravensdale and I’ve forgotten most of the geology I learned at college.”

Soon after I asked, “Can we leave now, Master?”

“Yes, if you wish. Pick up my clothes slave and bring them.”

I knew by the tone of his voice that he used only pretend authority and replied, “As long as you realise that once I’m through that door, I’m no longer your slave. We’re equals.” I folded his clothes and at the foot of the stairs leading to the kitchen I dumped them and ran ahead. I felt the pain in my sore buttocks but I ran on and up to my room wondering if he would find me. Of course, he did and we tumbled on the bed and I giggled as he tickled me into submission and we ended up kissing and tongue fighting.

Later after we’d showered together and he’d put salve on ‘my poor tortured bum’ we fucked, no we made love, because with no pressures, no one watching and no need to put on a show, we did it gently with much fondling of each other. Finally, we lay facing each other and talked quietly. I told him the story of my finding the cellar key and the punishment I received and in return learned that he worked as a chemical engineer without much contact with any females. His mother heard of my being with Peter and suggested her son attended and be given me as his slave. It worked. Our psychics gelled and we became an item, so much so that I rarely visit Peter and Elise in their bedroom and haven’t been to another slave party. Peter and Geoffrey regularly swap partners and several times they’ve invited us to join them but we never have and they don’t seem to hold it against us. For the time being, I’m employed as their maid at least until I finish at the university and find a job and probably get married.

I wonder if any of this would have happened had my curiosity not tempted me to steal that key?

Finis