After very little sleep, Brenda woke up groggy. She pulled Karen closer, loving the feel of her warmth, and not wanting to wake up. They normally slept naked together, but this week they’d worn t-shirts and shorts to bed every night. Brenda slid her hand under Karen’s shirt, wanting to feel her skin and the weight of her lover’s breasts.
Karen said, “Today’s the day. Wake up.”
Suddenly Brenda remembered what day it was. Why they weren’t sleeping naked together. Excitement mixed with nervousness--fear even--swirled through her stomach. Karen kissed her, a nervous/sweet smile on her face.
Today Brenda was getting on a plane. She didn’t know where she was going, not yet, but it was to meet Him. For the first time. He was the first person, male or female, she’d ever subbed to. They’d played games online for months, but this would be the first time she’d ever been the submissive in real life. In person. Where she couldn’t get away.
“Finally,” Karen said, “We get to open the boxes.” She was clearly excited, like it was Christmas. Brenda felt the same way, except Christmas didn’t usually have big spoonfuls of fear mixed in. Karen half-ran into their living room and brought back all of the boxes. There were seven of them, of all different sizes, each in plain, brown boxes. They were from him, of course, and they hadn’t been allowed to open any until today. Worse, they were all addressed to Karen, which annoyed Brenda. Karen texted him, asking if she could open the first box.
They both sat there in nervous excitement. Karen’s phone chimed, and they both jumped. Karen read his message, “Not yet. Take off all of your clothes, both of you.”
The sight of Karen’s skin, not to mention her lovely, round ass and nice, C-cup breasts reminded Brenda how horny she was. And had been. They hadn’t been allowed to have sex or come for ten days. It had been the longest ten days of her life.
As Brenda pulled off her t-shirt, Karen leaned over and took Brenda’s nipple into mouth. God, it felt good. Brenda pushed her away. “You just want to get me into trouble. Earn me a spanking before I even get there.”
Karen laughed. With a grand flourish, she texted him that they were both naked. He texted back almost instantly. She cleared her throat and read, “Open package number one. This one is for Karen.”
Karen clapped her hands, making a face at Brenda, telling her how she was the special one. Jealously spun through Brenda, setting her on edge. Karen found a pair of scissors and cut into the brown box labeled #1. She pulled out an object heavily wrapped in white tissue, then pulled the tissue off. An elaborate metal contraption sat before her. She didn’t know what it was.
Brenda did. She laughed, loving it. “It’s a chastity belt. For you.”
“No!”
Brenda laughed again. “Yes! The perfect gift for a spoiled brat like you.”
The phone chimed, scaring them both.
Brenda read the text, “I’m sure you're pleased with your gift. You have exactly three minutes to send me a picture of you in it.”
With a yelp, Karen dropped the metal belt like it burned her fingers and ran for the door. Knowing her, Brenda took a big step to cut her off and grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She smacked Karen hard on the ass twice, to get her attention. “Get back over here, now.” Karen wasn’t used to disobeying Brenda, especially when she used that tone. Meekly, she moved back to the bed and stood in front of Brenda.
Brenda quickly looked at the instructions, then pushed the main metal band between Karen’s legs, forcing her thighs further apart. The band, maybe an inch wide and lighter than it looked, fully covered Karen’s clit and pussy. Brenda could smell Karen’s excitement. She wanted nothing more than to move the metal band out of the way and bury her tongue deep into her girlfriend’s pussy. Instead, she wrapped the other two pieces around Karen’s waist--suddenly realizing why he’d asked for Karen’s measurements three weeks before--and pulled the pieces together above Karen’s stomach.
“It’s too tight,” Karen said, on the verge of tears.
“It’s perfect. Too tight to get your naughty fingers anywhere near your clit. It’s custom made, just for you.”
Brenda slid the lock into the clasp. She stood up and kissed Karen. Staring into her eyes, she pressed the lock closed. God, why haven’t I locked her pussy up before? The idea sent a wicked thrill through her whole body. “I think I’m going to be using this a lot on you.”
“No. I hate it.” That earned Karen two more smacks.
The phone chimed. “Oh crap,” Brenda said. She quickly picked up the phone and read, That’s a dozen with the crop for each of you. I will add a dozen for each additional minute that passes.
She quickly touched the picture app and took a picture of Karen’s locked up midsection, and another full picture of a sad-faced Karen. She looked like she was wearing armor, protecting her most valuable parts.
She quickly sent the pictures to him, hoping another minute hadn’t passed.
A text came back, Tell her she looks beautiful in it. It’s made my cock hard. Brenda kissed her and told her the message, but it didn’t make Karen any happier. The phone chimed again: You’ve both disappointed me. Put your noses in the corner, on your knees, until I text you again. Now.
Brenda hated the corner. Especially with no one watching. Still, she only wanted to please him. After reading the text to Karen, she led her lover to one corner of their bedroom, put her on her knees, then quickly moved to the other corner and got on her knees.
She put Karen in the corner all the time. The irony of it made her smile. Paybacks...
Finally, after a forever, the phone chimed and they were released. Brenda saw that twenty minutes had passed. It felt more like forty, and her knees were sore.
Karen pulled the first box open, searching frantically in it. She went through the white tissue wrapping, pulling and tearing it. “Where’s the key??”
Brenda laughed. “You’re stuck in there. Maybe he’ll send it back with me, on Monday. If you’re good.”
Karen threw the tissue at her. “It’s not funny. Your pussy isn’t locked up.”
Another chime interrupted their banter. This one told them it was time for package #2. This one was for Brenda. Her stomach was a swirl. The first two boxes were the same size. He wouldn’t send two chastity belts, would he? He’d asked for her measurements, too. This time, a shoe box came out of the bigger, brown box. Holding her breath, Brenda opened the box. A pair of five inch black stilettos. From Alain’s of Paris. Holy Crap.
Karen asked, “How much did those cost?”
“I have no idea.”
“It’s not fair. I get this,” she tapped a fingernail against the metal encasing her, “and you get the greatest shoes ever?” Brenda agreed, it didn’t seem fair. But she didn’t feel a bit of jealously anymore.
She tried them on. They fit wonderfully. She walked out of the bedroom, into the living room, and back. She looked at them in the mirror, liking her body and her long legs in them.
“Damn, you look good,” Karen said.
The phone chimed. The chime seemed to be connected to Brenda’s clit. Ever time, a little spasm went through her.
Karen read, “Do you like them?”
Before Brenda could answer, Karen typed in, “Yes, she loves them.”
Brenda said, “Tell him thank you.”
Karen said, as she was typing, “They’re a bit tight. They didn’t have them in blue?"
Brenda cried out, trying to grab the phone, and falling on Karen. Karen kept typing on the phone, saying out loud, "You couldn't afford Italian?" They wrestled as Karen laughed and giggled. Finally Brenda pulled the phone from her. Thank God. Karen hadn’t sent the text.
The phone chimed again, nearly causing Brenda to drop it. Time to pay for the shoes. Give the phone to Karen.
Uh-oh.
Karen took the phone back from her, smiling. The smile grew bigger, and more wicked, as she read the message. A shot of nervous energy hit Brenda’s already nervous stomach. Karen took her by the arm and led her to the foot of the bed. Karen’s gentle hands bent her over the metal footboard, pushing her down against the bed, then pulling her arms above her head and making sure her breasts were flat against the sheets. From behind, Karen’s fingers spread Brenda’s lips. “I want him to see how wet you are.” Brenda knew Karen was taking pictures of her pussy.
Another chime. Karen let out a little squeal. Brenda couldn’t even bear to ask what the text said. Her ass felt very exposed, and very high up in the air, in the heels. She watched Karen walk out of the room, wondering how the chastity belt felt to walk in. A moment later, Karen came back, heavy strap in hand.
Brenda loved the strap. Brenda hated the strap.
“Beg me,” Karen said. “Just like you make me.” Karen was about to get even for so many spankings.
Brenda hid her face, biting the bedspread. The strap cracked into her ass twice, taking her breath away. “Those don’t count, of course.”
“Of course,” Brenda whispered. That earned her two more. Something about her slave whipping her was turning her on immensely. She could feel her own wetness as the air moved across her pussy. “Please,” Brenda moaned.
“You can beg better than that.”
“Please. Mistress. Whip me. Pretty please.”
“Count them.”
The first one was wicked, low on her ass. So tender. And her endorphins hadn’t started flowing yet. Oh, it hurt.
“One... two... three... four... ” The sound of the wicked, heavy smacks filled the room, mixed in with Karen's heavy breathing and little grunts. The wicked crack of the strap and the pain it brought filled Brenda's mind. Her world shrunk down to nothing more than her ass, so high and vulnerable up in the air, and the tender, tender skin.
After six, Karen laid the strap on Brenda’s back, giving her a little break. Her small hands rubbed across Brenda’s already hot ass. A finger teased her pussy, then her asshole. “I should save a few for your pussy, like you do me.”
She was so close, after ten days of not coming, and the strap hitting just an inch or two from her wet pussy. She held her breath, the desire to please him, deep and wicked and something she didn’t understand, barely winning the battle.
“Please whip me,” she managed.
Karen chuckled. She tapped the strap against Brenda’s pussy once, then a second time. She heard a familiar whoosh, and felt it square across her ass. She cried out and almost lifted up, off the bed. Her knees and hips bucked, but then she held, pushing her ass back up high in the air, in her mind imagining it was him whipping her.
“Seven... eight... nine... ten...” The pain had arrived, now, with a few tears. Her body reacting, sweat covering her skin and running down her legs as her heart raced. She wondered how many he had ordered. And would Karen even stop at that point? Part of her knew she was getting what she deserved. What she wanted.
“Eleven... twelve... thirteen... fourteen... fifteen..." Most of those low on her ass, where it transitioned to her thighs. So tender. More tears.
"Sixteen... seventeen... eighteen... nineteen... twenty...” It was more than tears now; she cried. Her ass felt on fire, the strap bringing her skin to a boil. She could barely keep her ass up, exposing her tender flesh to more and more punishment. But she did.
Karen tapped the strap against her pussy again. Brenda couldn’t help it, she spread her legs wider, wanting it.
Karen chuckled. “Such a naughty girl, wanting me to see your pussy. Naughty, naughty.” Brenda wondered if she sounded as trite, as cruel, when she said those kind of things. Karen said, “Enough of putting that naughty pussy on display. Close your legs tight.”
Brenda closed her eyes, knowing what was coming.
“Twenty-one... twenty-two... twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five...” All across the backs of her thighs, hard. It hurt. So tender. Through the crying, her count was barely a mumble.
“Arch higher. Please him.” She heard Karen pick up her phone. Knew she was taking pictures of her whipped ass. Wondered if she was done.
She wasn’t.
“Almost there, baby,” Karen said, her voice tender. Brenda felt her lover’s lips brush across her ass, kissing them. “So hot. I bet they’re tender. You won’t enjoy sitting on the plane.”
Brenda could only moan.
Then the sweet lips were gone from her ass. She knew what was coming next. She arched up, wanting it.
“Twenty-six... twenty-seven... twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty...” She expected them to stop, then. She couldn’t take another ten. Thirty-one surprised her. There was a long pause.
Karen said, “Don’t make me give you extras. Count.”
“Thirty-one.” Counting one had to mean another was coming.
Karen didn’t let up. He wouldn’t want that. Thirty-two was wicked, low and mean. She cried out, then remembered to count. “Thirty-two.” She was sputtering now, her nose running, crying hard.
Thirty-three was a bit higher, but still hurt. She wondered what her ass looked like. “Thirty-three.” She lifted up, ready. Instead, she felt Karen’s lips again.
“Is that all?” she asked, scared of the answer.
“For now, my sweet.”
She started to go down to her knees, but Karen smacked her on the ass. It took her breath away. “Stay up. I need a picture, first.”
Crying, she held her ass up. Karen turned her head sideways, taking a picture of her tears, too.
The phone chimed. Karen read out loud, “Good girl. Do you think he means me or you?”
Another chime. “While she’s still submissive, open box #3.”
Karen quickly grabbed the box and ripped it open. She held a red, rubber bag in front of Brenda.
“What is that?” Brenda asked. Did she really want to know?
“An enema bag. For your ass. But first, you have to spend some more time in the corner. No rubbing.”
Karen helped her up, squeezing her ass as she kissed her. He was right, the thirty-three had taken the fight out of her. Karen put her in the corner, back on her knees. At least this time, someone would be watching her. And her red, red ass.
***
On her knees, her head down on the cold, white tile floor, Brenda reached back and spread her cheeks. She tried to do this as gently as possible, but still it made her gasp.
“Wider,” Karen said.
Brenda vowed to get even. To make Karen wear the belt for a month. While she came three times a day, on Karen’s tongue. To give her an enema every day for a month.
The nozzle pushed into Brenda’s ass. She closed her eyes as the warm, soapy water filled her up.
“I wonder why he’s having me clean your ass.