A SLAVE'S JOURNAL, CHAPTER 8
|
My orgasm started to build, and I watched it with a sense of wonder. Whack! Could I really cum just from being whacked on the ass? Whack! Maybe it was the vibrations it sent through my pelvis, like seismic waves, subtly teasing my clit on the other side? Whack! Maybe I’m just a pervert. Whack! Oh God, feels-so-good. Can’t think anymore... |
 |
The tension in my body rose and rose. I felt like I was filled with white hot light, brightest in my cunt and my ass. Soft animal grunts issued through my open mouth, only partly in time with the flogger. The stimulation was almost incidental now; my body had taken over. The fire, already lit and fed, was growing on its own. And I was going to burst... “NNNNGGGHHH!” My cum took me over like a new Master, making me shudder violently from head to ass, reeling in the pleasure, whether I liked it or not. |
|
“Ah yes, cum, you little brat,” Professor Blackthorne hissed through clenched teeth, as he flogged me in perfect, inexorable rhythm. “I knew you were a submissive from the moment I saw you. I knew you’d lift your arse up like a slut, just like that.” Bucking, I moaned and panted and whimpered, and the flogging kept right on going: an infinite, delicious waterfall on my ass. |
|
Gradually, the white hot light in me subsided, just enough for me to catch my breath. The Professor slowed down the flogging, now trailing the tendrils gently down my back and ass. Placing the handle in front of me and grabbing the tips from underneath, he pulled the tails in a thick rope against my swollen, desperate cunt, and ground them in, wiggled them from side to side and end to end. My hips involuntarily responded, humping the flogger. It would have been so humiliating if I hadn’t been out of my mind with arousal. I just didn’t care about anything but pleasure and pain at that point, and I didn’t even know which one I’d put first. |
 |
Professor Blackthorne then took the flogger away, and I let out a whimper of frustration. He laughed at me. “Your arse is so red,” he murmured, stroking it. As his hand passed over my buttcheeks, I could feel how tender and hot the surface was. He pinched the fleshy part at the bottom, making me jump and then moan. I was desperate for more stimulation, and every touch of his hand felt like a divinely-bestowed gift. My cunt was swollen, and as hungry as it had ever been. When he finally snaked his fingers between my legs and gently touched my labia, all I could do was whisper, “Thank you thank you thank you thank you...” |
 |
“Thank you Sir,” he corrected me, pinching and twisting my outer labia. “Aigh! Yes Sir! I’m sorry, Sir.” |
 |
“That’s all right, then,” he said in a kind, forgiving tone, and he started massaging gentle circles around my clit with his middle finger. I let out a long groan and arched my ass up and back to give him maximum access. “You harlot,” he commented, his finger never pausing in its circles on my clit. He inserted a thumb in my cunt, causing me to groan again. I was impaled on his hand, an instrument he was playing. |
 |
Just as I was thinking I might cum again, he removed his hand (much to my dismay), but then inserted two fingers into my cunt, and began fucking me hard and fast with them. My pussy made wet and squishy sounds in rhythm with his movements: humiliating and wonderfully filthy at the same time. I bucked, held on to the desk, and came hard, with his fingers deep inside me. |
 |
When the spasms subsided, the Professor removed his sticky fingers from my cunt and slapped me hard on the ass. We were done. Well, not quite... |