Macdonald’s Mistress part 4
Miss Sabbath straddled me, her thighs strong and powerful, as she positioned herself over my still-hard cock. She took a deep breath and then plunged herself down onto me, her wetness enveloping me in a warm embrace. Her eyes widened and she clamped down on my cock with her inner muscles, making me let out a sound that was a mix of pleasure and surprise. It was as if I had just been hit with a bolt of lightning, my body arching off the bed. She giggled at my expression and began to bounce up and down, her movements deliberate and calculated. Each time she came down, she clenched around me, and it felt like she was trying to milk every drop of pleasure from my body.
I watched as she moved, her breasts jiggling with the rhythm of our fucking. She was in complete control, her hips a blur of motion as she fucked herself on me. The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by the occasional squeak of the bed frame. It was raw, it was primal, and I had never felt so alive.
On the 20th thrust, she threw her head back and laughed, the sound piercing the tension like a knife. "You're so adorable when you're lost in pleasure," she murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I couldn't help the goofy expression on my face, the sensation of her muscles clamping down on me was indescribable. But the sudden thought of pregnancy hit me like a truck, and I gasped out my question.
"Do... do you guys have... birth control?" I stuttered, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
Miss Sabbath's laughter echoed through the room as she pulled away, her breasts bouncing with the sudden movement. "Oh, Darius," she said, her voice a rich blend of amusement and exasperation, "You really are a piece of work." She leaned over to her nightstand, pulling out a small, plastic container filled with pills. "You see these? These little beauties are what keep me from popping out any more kids."
Her eyes sparkled as she held up the container, and she popped one into her mouth, swallowing it with a dramatic flourish. "And don't you worry about Zeta. She's got her own stash, and she's quite the responsible one. She's not letting anything ruin her plans."
I let out a sigh of relief, my body momentarily relaxing as she began to thrust again. She had a rhythm that was both punishing and exquisite, a symphony of pleasure and pain that had me on the edge of my seat—or rather, the edge of the bed. Each time she came down on me, I could feel her muscles tighten around my cock, squeezing it like a vice. The sound of her laughter filled the room, and I couldn't help but get lost in the moment.
"Good boy," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down my spine. "You're doing just fine."
Her movements grew more intense, her thighs squeezing around my hips as she picked up the pace. The bed groaned in protest beneath us, but it was the only sound in the room other than our harsh breaths and the wet slaps of our flesh. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing into my chest, and whispered sweet nothings in my ear that had me trembling. Each word was a caress, a promise of more pleasure to come, and I found myself getting lost in the sensation.
Then, on the 80th thrust, it happened. My body tensed as the first ropes of my warm spunk shot into her waiting tunnel, filling her up and marking her as mine. She screamed out, her body tightening around me like a fist as she rode the waves of her own orgasm. Her pussy clamped down on my cock, pulling and pulsing as she milked every last drop from me. The feeling was indescribable, a symphony of pleasure that had me seeing stars.
Miss Sabbath collapsed onto me, her body boneless and panting. She laid there for a full minute, her breasts heaving with the effort of our lovemaking. Her sweat mingled with mine, creating a slick sheen on our skin. It was a moment of pure bliss, a chance to catch our breath before she whispered in my ear, "You can rest now, my pet. But only for a minute. We've got so much more to do."
With surprising strength, she hopped off of me and pulled me by the wrists off the bed. Before I could protest or even ask what she had planned next, she had me standing, my legs wobbly. She reached for the sheets that were ruffled beneath us and with a quick flick of her wrists, she had them in her grasp.
“Now, let's see how long you can last," she said with a wink, and before I could react, she had wrapped the sheets around my wrists and tied them to the thick wooden column of her bed.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she took a step back to admire her handiwork. Then Miss Sabbath got on her knees and took my manhood into her mouth in a slow sensual manner.
Her mouth was like a velvet vice, tightening and loosening around me with every bob of her head. Her tongue danced along my shaft, swirling around the tip before sliding back down to the base. Her teeth grazed against my sensitive flesh, sending waves of both pleasure and pain through my body. I could feel myself growing closer and closer to climax with every stroke, my muscles tensing and my toes curling.
Miss Sabbath's eyes never left mine as she worked, watching my every reaction with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. Her movements grew more intense, her cheeks hollowing out as she took me deeper into her mouth. The sight of her like that, on her knees, with my cock in her mouth, was almost too much to bear. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold out, but the sensation was overwhelming.
On the 60th second of her oral ministrations, I couldn’t take it anymore. With a roar that I didn’t know I was capable of, I came, my hot cum filling her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t miss a beat, swallowing every drop and licking her lips with a satisfied smile.
Miss Sabbath stood up and turned around, presenting her round, plump ass to me. She bent over, her cheeks spreading to reveal the tight, pink rosebud of her anus. The sight was both terrifying and thrilling, and I knew what was coming next.
"I want you to plow into me as hard as you can, Darius," she ordered, her voice firm and commanding. "But remember, i’m going to do the same to your butt hole afterwards.”
The sight of Miss Sabbath’s inviting asshole was too much to resist, and despite my fear of the strap-on, I felt a surge of lust take over. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and thrust forward. The sensation of my cock sliding into her tight ass was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was a mix of resistance and heat, and I had to fight the urge to pull out immediately. She let out a scream that was equal parts agony and ecstasy, her eyes squeezed shut tightly. I could feel her muscles clench around me, trying to adjust to my girth, and for a moment, I felt like a conqueror.
I began to move my hips, pushing deeper and deeper into her, the sheets tightening around my wrists with every thrust. Her cries grew louder, filling the room with a symphony of pain and pleasure. The scent of our bodies melded together, creating an intoxicating aroma that made me want to devour her whole. I watched as her body shuddered with every push, her thighs quivering as she held herself in the bent over position.
Miss Sabbath's endurance was astounding. Her legs remained in perfect form, holding her ankles with a grip that seemed almost inhuman. Her face was a mask of ecstasy and agony, the lines around her eyes and mouth deepening with every moan. She never once faltered, her body a testament to her willpower.
But, as the seconds ticked away, I could feel her tightening around me. Her cries grew more intense, her breaths shorter. After two minutes, I exploded inside of her and she let out a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment, and her body began to convulse violently.
“Oh my God, Darius! Your semen feels like fire flowing through my intestines!”
Miss Sabbath's words were a mix of pleasure and pain, and she climaxed as well, a few seconds later, her female ejaculation, running down her legs. After my orgasm ended, she untied me and bent me over the edge of the bed, the wooden fram pressing against my calves and knees. Giving me a devilish smirk, she said, “ Now it’s my turn, honey!”
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as she picked up the yellow hairbrush with black bristles from the bedside table. The same one she had used to brush her hair earlier, now coated in a slick layer of olive oil. The sight of it sent a thrill of anticipation and fear through me. I knew what was coming next, and I couldn’t decide if I was excited or terrified. She approached me with a slow, predatory grace, holding the brush like a sword and the look in her eyes was pure, unbridled hunger. I buried my face into the bread spread, gripping the mattress tightly embracing myself for what was to come.
I felt her spreading my butt cheeks apart with her left hand and right knee, and I let out a muffled cries her fingernails dug into my left butt cheek, which is still sore from her spanking the other day. Miss Sabbath didn't waste any time. She didn’t bother with a gentle introduction or a warning, she just shoved the handle of the hairbrush inside me, the bristles tickling my balls as the cold wood penetrated my anus. The suddenness of it all had me screeching out like a scared cat. Miss Sabbath laughter filled the room as she was greatly amused by the sounds she made him emit.
"Oh, you're going to love this," she crooned, her voice a mix of sweetness and sadism. She didn’t give me any time to adjust to the new sensation, she immediately began to pump the handle in and out of me with a ferocity that left me gasping for breath. The wooden handle scraped against the inside of my ass, sending waves of pain and pleasure that crashed into each other like two stormy seas. She was relentless, her strokes becoming faster and more punishing as she watched my body react to her ministrations.
“Take this! And that! This too! And some of these! I’m gonna make the inside of your butt swollen and sore just like I did the outside of it yesterday!”
Miss Sabbath’s sadistic chuckled she rammed the hairbrush into me with increasing speed. He had thought that the pain of the first few thrusts was unbearable, but as the number grew, his cries of agony turned into a symphony of pleasure. Each stroke sent sparks of sensation through him, making his cock twitch and his balls tighten.
"Please, Miss Sabbath," I whimpered after 25 thrusts, my voice hoarse from the screams that had been torn from my throat, "I can't take it, it hurts too much!"
But, just like yesterday, Miss Sabbath paid no attention to my pleading, her thrusts to my butthole only becoming more aggressive and vigorous. Zeta’s mother was completely ruthless.
“You took my 10 minute spanking of your sexy ass in my daughter’s office the other day and you’re gonna take this butt-fucking, whether you like it or not, Darius!”
She began to slap my ass with her free hand, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room. Miss Sabbath would smack each of my ass cheeks one at a time, and I cried like a baby, my tears soaking the bedspread. The thorough beating she had given my butt the other day had made it sensitive and swollen, which in turn made her palm felt like a hammer hitting my glutes.
"Cry! Cry! Cry baby, cry!" she taunted, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and authority. She was enjoying my pain, enjoying the power she had over me. And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me enjoyed it too. The humiliation of being bent over her bed, my ass red and raw, being used like this was a strange thrill that I hadn't experienced before.
Each time Zeta’s mother plowed into me, the hairbrush handle grazed my prostate sending what felt like an electric shock through me. Exactly 3 minutes after she started, I came again. This time it was onto the part of the bedspread that was hanging off and tucked under the side of the bed. The fabric absorbed my seed, a stark reminder of my submission and her dominance. Miss Sabbath didn’t stop pumping the brush in and out of me or slapping my bruised cheeks until my body went slack, my orgasm a distant memory. She had pushed me to my limits and beyond, and I felt a strange sense of pride in the fact that I had withstood her punishment.
Miss Sabbath pulled the hairbrush out of my ass with a wet pop, the sensation making me shiver. She turned and sauntered into the bathroom, her hips swinging with each step. I heard the sound of water running and the clack of the brush against the side of the sink as she washed it with a squeak of liquid lavender soap. She emerged a few moments later, the brush handle shiny and clean.
"Now, Darius," she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief, "you sit tight and wait for me in the living room. No peeking, or I'll have to teach you another lesson."
“ What do you mean?” I asked nervously.
Miss Sabbath just winked as she strode over to the heavy velvet curtains that hung over the window. With a swift pull, she yanked down the curtain rod, the fabric sliding off with a whisper after she unscrewed the two knobs at each end of the rod off of it. The metal rod glinted in the low light of the room, the potential for pain glinting in her eyes.
“I mean, I’m going to cane your cute little butt with this if you do peep on me. And I promise you young man, I will be very thorough. No part of your butt or your thighs will be uncovered by a livid welt.”
“I’ll be a good boy, Miss Sabbath! I swear that I won’t peek,” I frantically promised her.
Miss Sabbath just chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she sailed into the shower. I quickly grabbed my clothes and threw them on, my sore butt cheeks protesting every movement. I stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, my legs shaking and my ass feeling like it was on fire. The adrenaline from the encounter was still pumping through my veins, making every inch of my skin tingle and my cock half-hard despite the pain.
Five minutes later, the sound of the shower stopped and she emerged from the steam, a towel wrapped around her voluptuous frame. Her skin was still flushed from the hot water and the exertion of our play. She looked like a goddess, her hair slicked back and her eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and hunger for more.
“ It’s time for you to go now Darius,“ miss Sabbath told me. I immediately got up off the couch and followed her as she walked to the door. As she opened it up, I said, “ miss Sabbath, once all of my bruises have healed. I’ll come back and we can play a game of your choosing. That includes spanking me with that snake skin belt you mentioned the other day, even If I haven’t disobeyed you or your daughter.”
Miss Sabbath looked at me with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and approval.
“That’s the spirit, Darius. I knew you’d be a good sport. And don’t worry, I’ll keep that in mind for our next session. But for now, go home and let your body heal.”
I nodded, and walked through the open door. Miss Sabbath suddenly grabbed my right wrist, and without warning, planted a fierce kiss on my lips. It was unlike any kiss I had ever experienced before—dominant and possessive, her tongue probing and claiming me as her own. It was as if she was marking me with her essence, leaving a part of herself behind to remind me who was in charge. The kiss was over in five seconds, but it felt like an eternity, a whirlwind of passion and power that left me breathless and lightheaded.
As I stumbled backward, she pulled away, her smile wicked and knowing. "Remember, Darius," she murmured, her voice a sultry purr that seemed to wrap around me like a second skin, "You're mine now."
With those parting words, she turned and sailed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. I unlocked my bike from the rack and pedalled home.
Over the next two weeks I rubbed various potions onto my bruised flesh; gels that cooled and warmed, greases that smelled faintly of mint and peppermint, and oils that had a hint of lavender. I even tried some of Miss Sabbath’s own concoctions, like her avocado and buttermilk mixture, which she swore by. Each day, I felt the sting of the bruises lessen, the discoloration fading until, on the 15th day, they were nothing but a faint memory.
With a newfound excitement, I called Zeta to set up our next meeting. My voice was filled with anticipation as I told her that I was ready to play the game she had hinted at. Her laughter was music to my ears as she agreed, and she gave me the address to her two-story house, telling me that her assistant manager would cover her shift at the restaurant.
As I rode my bike to their house, I could feel the wind on my bare skin, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heat of the previous days. The journey was longer this time, but the thought of what awaited me made the pedaling feel effortless. When I finally arrived, the house was bathed in a warm glow, the windows casting flickering shadows onto the manicured lawn. Zeta and Miss Sabbath were waiting for me in the doorway, their smiles filled with excitement and a hint of mischief.
"Welcome, Darius," Zeta purred as she took my hand and led me into the house. Her mother followed closely behind, the sound of her leather boots echoing through the hallway. "We've been waiting for you."
Once we were in the backyard, Miss Sabbath opened a reddish brown, oiled wooden door that creaked with age, revealing a staircase that led down to the tornado cellar. The steps were also coated in the same dark, slick wood, leading to a space that was surprisingly well-maintained and decorated. The floor of the cellar was indeed covered with a pristine silver carpet, which reflected the gold-painted concrete blocks that made up the walls. The stark contrast was almost blinding in the soft light of the space.
Without a word, the two women began to strip me of my clothes. They moved with an ease and confidence that left me feeling both exposed and strangely aroused. Zeta’s eyes roamed over my body as Miss Sabbath walked over to some bungee cord stacked against the wall and took two pink ones. She hooked both of them together on opposite ends, then told me to hold out my wrists. I did and secured one of the bungee cords around them.
“Stand on your tippy toes, baby,” Zeta‘s mother ordered me. Again, I obeyed, and she walked into another wall and got a metal ladder that she brought next to me. After telling Zeta to come and hold the ladder for her, which her daughter did, Sabbath climbed it, and through the other bungee cord over the pipe that was above my head she pulled on it until my big toes were an inch above the ground before putting the hook around the cord. Then she went and put the ladder back against the wall, while Zeta sat on a sofa that had a blue sky-and-clouds design. It was at the southwest end of the cellar and head an oval shaped wooden table in black television in front of it.
Miss Sabbath strutted over to me, her hips swaying with the grace of a panther. In one swift motion, she removed her green tree python skin belt from the loops of her khaki pants, the sound of leather on fabric making my stomach twist with anticipation and fear. She whispered in my ear, her breath hot against my skin, "You thought my hand was bad? Just wait until you feel the kiss of my belt."
She stepped back and took a moment to appreciate the tension in the room, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she took her position.
Miss Sabbath swung the belt, the sound of leather cutting through the air like a whip before it connected with a resounding smack against my bare ass. The pain was immediate and intense. I let out a scream that was raw and unfiltered, my body jolting
I watched as she moved, her breasts jiggling with the rhythm of our fucking. She was in complete control, her hips a blur of motion as she fucked herself on me. The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by the occasional squeak of the bed frame. It was raw, it was primal, and I had never felt so alive.
On the 20th thrust, she threw her head back and laughed, the sound piercing the tension like a knife. "You're so adorable when you're lost in pleasure," she murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I couldn't help the goofy expression on my face, the sensation of her muscles clamping down on me was indescribable. But the sudden thought of pregnancy hit me like a truck, and I gasped out my question.
"Do... do you guys have... birth control?" I stuttered, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
Miss Sabbath's laughter echoed through the room as she pulled away, her breasts bouncing with the sudden movement. "Oh, Darius," she said, her voice a rich blend of amusement and exasperation, "You really are a piece of work." She leaned over to her nightstand, pulling out a small, plastic container filled with pills. "You see these? These little beauties are what keep me from popping out any more kids."
Her eyes sparkled as she held up the container, and she popped one into her mouth, swallowing it with a dramatic flourish. "And don't you worry about Zeta. She's got her own stash, and she's quite the responsible one. She's not letting anything ruin her plans."
I let out a sigh of relief, my body momentarily relaxing as she began to thrust again. She had a rhythm that was both punishing and exquisite, a symphony of pleasure and pain that had me on the edge of my seat—or rather, the edge of the bed. Each time she came down on me, I could feel her muscles tighten around my cock, squeezing it like a vice. The sound of her laughter filled the room, and I couldn't help but get lost in the moment.
"Good boy," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down my spine. "You're doing just fine."
Her movements grew more intense, her thighs squeezing around my hips as she picked up the pace. The bed groaned in protest beneath us, but it was the only sound in the room other than our harsh breaths and the wet slaps of our flesh. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing into my chest, and whispered sweet nothings in my ear that had me trembling. Each word was a caress, a promise of more pleasure to come, and I found myself getting lost in the sensation.
Then, on the 80th thrust, it happened. My body tensed as the first ropes of my warm spunk shot into her waiting tunnel, filling her up and marking her as mine. She screamed out, her body tightening around me like a fist as she rode the waves of her own orgasm. Her pussy clamped down on my cock, pulling and pulsing as she milked every last drop from me. The feeling was indescribable, a symphony of pleasure that had me seeing stars.
Miss Sabbath collapsed onto me, her body boneless and panting. She laid there for a full minute, her breasts heaving with the effort of our lovemaking. Her sweat mingled with mine, creating a slick sheen on our skin. It was a moment of pure bliss, a chance to catch our breath before she whispered in my ear, "You can rest now, my pet. But only for a minute. We've got so much more to do."
With surprising strength, she hopped off of me and pulled me by the wrists off the bed. Before I could protest or even ask what she had planned next, she had me standing, my legs wobbly. She reached for the sheets that were ruffled beneath us and with a quick flick of her wrists, she had them in her grasp.
“Now, let's see how long you can last," she said with a wink, and before I could react, she had wrapped the sheets around my wrists and tied them to the thick wooden column of her bed.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she took a step back to admire her handiwork. Then Miss Sabbath got on her knees and took my manhood into her mouth in a slow sensual manner.
Her mouth was like a velvet vice, tightening and loosening around me with every bob of her head. Her tongue danced along my shaft, swirling around the tip before sliding back down to the base. Her teeth grazed against my sensitive flesh, sending waves of both pleasure and pain through my body. I could feel myself growing closer and closer to climax with every stroke, my muscles tensing and my toes curling.
Miss Sabbath's eyes never left mine as she worked, watching my every reaction with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. Her movements grew more intense, her cheeks hollowing out as she took me deeper into her mouth. The sight of her like that, on her knees, with my cock in her mouth, was almost too much to bear. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold out, but the sensation was overwhelming.
On the 60th second of her oral ministrations, I couldn’t take it anymore. With a roar that I didn’t know I was capable of, I came, my hot cum filling her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t miss a beat, swallowing every drop and licking her lips with a satisfied smile.
Miss Sabbath stood up and turned around, presenting her round, plump ass to me. She bent over, her cheeks spreading to reveal the tight, pink rosebud of her anus. The sight was both terrifying and thrilling, and I knew what was coming next.
"I want you to plow into me as hard as you can, Darius," she ordered, her voice firm and commanding. "But remember, i’m going to do the same to your butt hole afterwards.”
The sight of Miss Sabbath’s inviting asshole was too much to resist, and despite my fear of the strap-on, I felt a surge of lust take over. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and thrust forward. The sensation of my cock sliding into her tight ass was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was a mix of resistance and heat, and I had to fight the urge to pull out immediately. She let out a scream that was equal parts agony and ecstasy, her eyes squeezed shut tightly. I could feel her muscles clench around me, trying to adjust to my girth, and for a moment, I felt like a conqueror.
I began to move my hips, pushing deeper and deeper into her, the sheets tightening around my wrists with every thrust. Her cries grew louder, filling the room with a symphony of pain and pleasure. The scent of our bodies melded together, creating an intoxicating aroma that made me want to devour her whole. I watched as her body shuddered with every push, her thighs quivering as she held herself in the bent over position.
Miss Sabbath's endurance was astounding. Her legs remained in perfect form, holding her ankles with a grip that seemed almost inhuman. Her face was a mask of ecstasy and agony, the lines around her eyes and mouth deepening with every moan. She never once faltered, her body a testament to her willpower.
But, as the seconds ticked away, I could feel her tightening around me. Her cries grew more intense, her breaths shorter. After two minutes, I exploded inside of her and she let out a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment, and her body began to convulse violently.
“Oh my God, Darius! Your semen feels like fire flowing through my intestines!”
Miss Sabbath's words were a mix of pleasure and pain, and she climaxed as well, a few seconds later, her female ejaculation, running down her legs. After my orgasm ended, she untied me and bent me over the edge of the bed, the wooden fram pressing against my calves and knees. Giving me a devilish smirk, she said, “ Now it’s my turn, honey!”
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as she picked up the yellow hairbrush with black bristles from the bedside table. The same one she had used to brush her hair earlier, now coated in a slick layer of olive oil. The sight of it sent a thrill of anticipation and fear through me. I knew what was coming next, and I couldn’t decide if I was excited or terrified. She approached me with a slow, predatory grace, holding the brush like a sword and the look in her eyes was pure, unbridled hunger. I buried my face into the bread spread, gripping the mattress tightly embracing myself for what was to come.
I felt her spreading my butt cheeks apart with her left hand and right knee, and I let out a muffled cries her fingernails dug into my left butt cheek, which is still sore from her spanking the other day. Miss Sabbath didn't waste any time. She didn’t bother with a gentle introduction or a warning, she just shoved the handle of the hairbrush inside me, the bristles tickling my balls as the cold wood penetrated my anus. The suddenness of it all had me screeching out like a scared cat. Miss Sabbath laughter filled the room as she was greatly amused by the sounds she made him emit.
"Oh, you're going to love this," she crooned, her voice a mix of sweetness and sadism. She didn’t give me any time to adjust to the new sensation, she immediately began to pump the handle in and out of me with a ferocity that left me gasping for breath. The wooden handle scraped against the inside of my ass, sending waves of pain and pleasure that crashed into each other like two stormy seas. She was relentless, her strokes becoming faster and more punishing as she watched my body react to her ministrations.
“Take this! And that! This too! And some of these! I’m gonna make the inside of your butt swollen and sore just like I did the outside of it yesterday!”
Miss Sabbath’s sadistic chuckled she rammed the hairbrush into me with increasing speed. He had thought that the pain of the first few thrusts was unbearable, but as the number grew, his cries of agony turned into a symphony of pleasure. Each stroke sent sparks of sensation through him, making his cock twitch and his balls tighten.
"Please, Miss Sabbath," I whimpered after 25 thrusts, my voice hoarse from the screams that had been torn from my throat, "I can't take it, it hurts too much!"
But, just like yesterday, Miss Sabbath paid no attention to my pleading, her thrusts to my butthole only becoming more aggressive and vigorous. Zeta’s mother was completely ruthless.
“You took my 10 minute spanking of your sexy ass in my daughter’s office the other day and you’re gonna take this butt-fucking, whether you like it or not, Darius!”
She began to slap my ass with her free hand, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room. Miss Sabbath would smack each of my ass cheeks one at a time, and I cried like a baby, my tears soaking the bedspread. The thorough beating she had given my butt the other day had made it sensitive and swollen, which in turn made her palm felt like a hammer hitting my glutes.
"Cry! Cry! Cry baby, cry!" she taunted, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and authority. She was enjoying my pain, enjoying the power she had over me. And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me enjoyed it too. The humiliation of being bent over her bed, my ass red and raw, being used like this was a strange thrill that I hadn't experienced before.
Each time Zeta’s mother plowed into me, the hairbrush handle grazed my prostate sending what felt like an electric shock through me. Exactly 3 minutes after she started, I came again. This time it was onto the part of the bedspread that was hanging off and tucked under the side of the bed. The fabric absorbed my seed, a stark reminder of my submission and her dominance. Miss Sabbath didn’t stop pumping the brush in and out of me or slapping my bruised cheeks until my body went slack, my orgasm a distant memory. She had pushed me to my limits and beyond, and I felt a strange sense of pride in the fact that I had withstood her punishment.
Miss Sabbath pulled the hairbrush out of my ass with a wet pop, the sensation making me shiver. She turned and sauntered into the bathroom, her hips swinging with each step. I heard the sound of water running and the clack of the brush against the side of the sink as she washed it with a squeak of liquid lavender soap. She emerged a few moments later, the brush handle shiny and clean.
"Now, Darius," she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief, "you sit tight and wait for me in the living room. No peeking, or I'll have to teach you another lesson."
“ What do you mean?” I asked nervously.
Miss Sabbath just winked as she strode over to the heavy velvet curtains that hung over the window. With a swift pull, she yanked down the curtain rod, the fabric sliding off with a whisper after she unscrewed the two knobs at each end of the rod off of it. The metal rod glinted in the low light of the room, the potential for pain glinting in her eyes.
“I mean, I’m going to cane your cute little butt with this if you do peep on me. And I promise you young man, I will be very thorough. No part of your butt or your thighs will be uncovered by a livid welt.”
“I’ll be a good boy, Miss Sabbath! I swear that I won’t peek,” I frantically promised her.
Miss Sabbath just chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she sailed into the shower. I quickly grabbed my clothes and threw them on, my sore butt cheeks protesting every movement. I stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, my legs shaking and my ass feeling like it was on fire. The adrenaline from the encounter was still pumping through my veins, making every inch of my skin tingle and my cock half-hard despite the pain.
Five minutes later, the sound of the shower stopped and she emerged from the steam, a towel wrapped around her voluptuous frame. Her skin was still flushed from the hot water and the exertion of our play. She looked like a goddess, her hair slicked back and her eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and hunger for more.
“ It’s time for you to go now Darius,“ miss Sabbath told me. I immediately got up off the couch and followed her as she walked to the door. As she opened it up, I said, “ miss Sabbath, once all of my bruises have healed. I’ll come back and we can play a game of your choosing. That includes spanking me with that snake skin belt you mentioned the other day, even If I haven’t disobeyed you or your daughter.”
Miss Sabbath looked at me with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and approval.
“That’s the spirit, Darius. I knew you’d be a good sport. And don’t worry, I’ll keep that in mind for our next session. But for now, go home and let your body heal.”
I nodded, and walked through the open door. Miss Sabbath suddenly grabbed my right wrist, and without warning, planted a fierce kiss on my lips. It was unlike any kiss I had ever experienced before—dominant and possessive, her tongue probing and claiming me as her own. It was as if she was marking me with her essence, leaving a part of herself behind to remind me who was in charge. The kiss was over in five seconds, but it felt like an eternity, a whirlwind of passion and power that left me breathless and lightheaded.
As I stumbled backward, she pulled away, her smile wicked and knowing. "Remember, Darius," she murmured, her voice a sultry purr that seemed to wrap around me like a second skin, "You're mine now."
With those parting words, she turned and sailed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. I unlocked my bike from the rack and pedalled home.
Over the next two weeks I rubbed various potions onto my bruised flesh; gels that cooled and warmed, greases that smelled faintly of mint and peppermint, and oils that had a hint of lavender. I even tried some of Miss Sabbath’s own concoctions, like her avocado and buttermilk mixture, which she swore by. Each day, I felt the sting of the bruises lessen, the discoloration fading until, on the 15th day, they were nothing but a faint memory.
With a newfound excitement, I called Zeta to set up our next meeting. My voice was filled with anticipation as I told her that I was ready to play the game she had hinted at. Her laughter was music to my ears as she agreed, and she gave me the address to her two-story house, telling me that her assistant manager would cover her shift at the restaurant.
As I rode my bike to their house, I could feel the wind on my bare skin, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heat of the previous days. The journey was longer this time, but the thought of what awaited me made the pedaling feel effortless. When I finally arrived, the house was bathed in a warm glow, the windows casting flickering shadows onto the manicured lawn. Zeta and Miss Sabbath were waiting for me in the doorway, their smiles filled with excitement and a hint of mischief.
"Welcome, Darius," Zeta purred as she took my hand and led me into the house. Her mother followed closely behind, the sound of her leather boots echoing through the hallway. "We've been waiting for you."
Once we were in the backyard, Miss Sabbath opened a reddish brown, oiled wooden door that creaked with age, revealing a staircase that led down to the tornado cellar. The steps were also coated in the same dark, slick wood, leading to a space that was surprisingly well-maintained and decorated. The floor of the cellar was indeed covered with a pristine silver carpet, which reflected the gold-painted concrete blocks that made up the walls. The stark contrast was almost blinding in the soft light of the space.
Without a word, the two women began to strip me of my clothes. They moved with an ease and confidence that left me feeling both exposed and strangely aroused. Zeta’s eyes roamed over my body as Miss Sabbath walked over to some bungee cord stacked against the wall and took two pink ones. She hooked both of them together on opposite ends, then told me to hold out my wrists. I did and secured one of the bungee cords around them.
“Stand on your tippy toes, baby,” Zeta‘s mother ordered me. Again, I obeyed, and she walked into another wall and got a metal ladder that she brought next to me. After telling Zeta to come and hold the ladder for her, which her daughter did, Sabbath climbed it, and through the other bungee cord over the pipe that was above my head she pulled on it until my big toes were an inch above the ground before putting the hook around the cord. Then she went and put the ladder back against the wall, while Zeta sat on a sofa that had a blue sky-and-clouds design. It was at the southwest end of the cellar and head an oval shaped wooden table in black television in front of it.
Miss Sabbath strutted over to me, her hips swaying with the grace of a panther. In one swift motion, she removed her green tree python skin belt from the loops of her khaki pants, the sound of leather on fabric making my stomach twist with anticipation and fear. She whispered in my ear, her breath hot against my skin, "You thought my hand was bad? Just wait until you feel the kiss of my belt."
She stepped back and took a moment to appreciate the tension in the room, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she took her position.
Miss Sabbath swung the belt, the sound of leather cutting through the air like a whip before it connected with a resounding smack against my bare ass. The pain was immediate and intense. I let out a scream that was raw and unfiltered, my body jolting
31-35, M