Sexy punishment stories

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Sexy punishment stories

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Im internal count had taken strap and tawse punishment to over I was getting into the swing of things my adrenalin pumping but now im in desperate need of a cup of tea.

I drop the straps on the chair they are showing signs of wetness from a little ouse from the wounds, easy cleaned though.

Tea made i returned to the chamber, pulled up a chair in front of "it " and sat drinking my refreshment, with a biscuit on the side.

I lifted my shoe placed it on the bench with one word "lick ". As he pushed his tongue out i tilted my shoe up so only the soul was available.

Yes tea time over, souls of my shoes now spotless. I prepare for my caning. I bypass my small whippy cane, he wont even feel that now, to numb,to bruised.

The medium dragon and the stinger rattan, the next punishment toys, these are like using my hand, accurate to the mm. I draw back and my weapon let it sing through the air the unmistakable whistle which ends in the thwack.

This is the legacy one man has left a strong capable women paralysed and scared of her own shadow, well no more today it ends!!!

His skin is giving way under the barrage of strokes, I can feel the ache in my arm and elbow, I'm not really affording him or I time to absorb and prepare for the next stroke.

Why should I! He afforded me nothing but pain. The bottom is now clearly skinned and my perpetrator slumped, I take a look at his face im emotionless, well perhaps a little smirk can be seen.

I feel his breathing still even and his eyes still challenging but far less so than when we began. Im relieving the stress and feeling a quietening of my soul.

In internal count strokes. Will double that by the end? I may. The senior canes are taken from the line up. I wipe them down as the canes will meet bare broken flesh so disinfecting is im regime.

I walk round then again! As the last word left his mouth i swung my Singapore cane so hard i could swear i heard a splat.

There was certainly a fine bloody spray just as well i covered the floor and equipment in preparation. Agonising yelp for mercy. Another 20 strokes reigned down up on him each as severe as the first.

I started to feel a admiration for my man who sacrificed himself just for me! I was pumped, like a mother rescuing its child from extreme danger!

I decided that in order to take full justice the cock and front of his legs were to be addressed. I loosened his restraints and wiped and cleaned his bum not with soothing gel but direct antiseptic, which stings like hell.

Applied a dressing and helped him up,. I chuckle , "you haven't finished yet. I lead him to the bed told him to lay on his back , painful in it own sense.

I took the body strap with side hand cuffs and strapped him on the bed, placed leg spreaders on and secured it done..

On my table but the side I had brought in a spatula my whippy cane and my cock board with a hole cut in to pull his cock and balls through and an egg slice.

I picked up my incredibly whippy cane and started on the front of the legs and allowing wrap and across the cock area which was beginning to hide "bless you can run but you cant hide.

I must have laid down strokes in a matter of minutes his legs were covered in deep red tram line welts, the signature of the smaller cane.

Time to create real pain. I lifted his cock by the forskin and began to hit it with the cane he was sqealing and writhing in pain.

The red marks appearing with every stroke l pulled it up against his stomach. I took out my clover clamps fastened them securely to his foreskin then looped two more and attached to his nipples, then started again, cane then spatula, the egg slice, the cane again.

I repeated this over and over till he balls were dark red and cock black and blue. I sigh an audible relief an accomplishment, a satisfaction.

I was spent it was over. I loosen he straps quickly, he was now my sir lancelot once again. Took him to the bed covered him lovingly.

Then made a warm sweet drink for use both. I reckoned up we had come close to strokes. An onslaught that lasted more than 3 hours.

My could i have been so sadistic so broken that i had need so much? Climbing on the bed with him we held each other tightly and i thanked he over and over for what he had done for me what he had endured, i was crying but he never new i didn't make a sound as the tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

We kissed lovingly it seemed such a natural thing we both need the comfort the feeling of safety. We lay there holding each other for what seemed an age then slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms, both satisfied, both feeling our souls connected,both knowing we were bonded!

To Budding Writers, artists and poets. If you have something you would like to share which will be enjoyed by other please submit them via email and we will publish them on the site we reserve the right to refuse.

Shapely curvatures any lady would be proud of, yet the eye is drawn down to the slightest peek of the testicles hanging below,reminding me this is my man.

He adores me and i have emotion locked deep, afraid to show is lest it destroys the special connection when he looks into my eyes.

The excitement that warms and tingles parts it shouldn't. Yet undeniably draws me to this warm funny meek man, easy on the eye, yet unaware of this effect on me.

His soft grey hair, and matching moustache. Always smiling as he looks as me. He makes me smile all over. I admire the stillness of this inviting target as he awaits his punishment.

Today he will experience his needed strokes that is demanded. My eye is drawn to the side. A small table, which is carefully laid out, my implements of choice.

Perfectly presented was my well worn tawse previously owned by a foremost disciplinarian. Severe and the most imposing on the table, with three fingers perfectly cut, the thickness almost 7 mm and the length of my cane at 93cm.

Then two pale cream canes the same as far as they are both canes,the same lambs leather hand grip in fetching purple.

The thickness very different, the first a 7 mm in diameter whippy and sometimes unwieldy cane always needing to be tamed.

A small bottle of strong disinfectant wipes and some water. I become the character as i stepped through the doorway to my room.

A relatively bland matter of fact room fit for the serious punishment it accommodates. Having previously read out charges and sentence decided this offender will be in no doubt that justice will be served.

Striding round to the front of the bench i lean down and fasten each cuff in turn make sure my prisoner is securely fastened to the bench to prevent risk of escape in a moment of weakness or large movement which could lead to a strike moving off target.

I lay the leather strap over the kidney area as usual and secure it down. A serious crime committed a serious punishment to be administered.

A gasp and then the sucking of air through his teeth as he bites down to help endure the pain. The first stoke always feels the worst with no warm up the pain shocks the body the thud the followed by a wash of pain as body accepts and absorbs the impact.

I smile slightly as i watch an immediate welt appear across the center of his buttock only another 30 to go before i need change to the next implement.

The thrashing continues one stroke at a time some second between each stroke to allow the pain to be appreciated and to prepare for the next full force blow.

As the 30th stroke approaches he has relaxed into his thrashing ," as much as you can do at this level" ,and welts with surface bruising already apparent.

I feel more excited by my work clean a clear thus far. The next set of 30 are going to be quite different.

As i return the tawse to its place on the table having rubbed it clean the disinfectant, i look down at my next implement. I pick up the martinet, i swish it a little , for his benefit as well as my own.

I place my hand on the very warm bottom and breath in deeply as i feel him yield to my gentle touch as if it were bliss, and in fact it probably is.

My belly is warming with feeling of excitement the more we progress. The martinet is drawn back and let lose. The first lash makes him pull his head up and let out a low growl as the stinging pain is overlaid on the marked skin of his rosy red bottom.

Immediately its evident how wicked this tool is thin blood marks appear under the skin where i deliberately extending the strands past the tawse marks onto fresh untouched skin.

Oooo pretty marks i think to myself. I continue with affective accuracy the lash land in the over and over in the correct spot. I start to move the stokes down the sides of the thighs striping diagonally, such beautiful lines, each stoke connecting with fresh skin each lash giving maximum pain.

A time only the special kind of pain slut can desire that overriding desire to please and satisfy his mistress the rare breed that is known as " masochist".

I look down consider my next few blows know the without the restraints he would try to escape collapse in pain and without a doubt he is going to cry out.

As if reading my mind he braces. I draw the martinet back no need to be as long or strong as a short smaller stroke is going to have a lasting effect.

Swing it forward i catch his hang sack. He yells out as the thin fingers wrap around and catch almost every part of his balls. I stop move forward place my hand over his ball in a moment of brief compassion.

His legs buckled only the restraints holding his weight. Im grateful i fastened them securely. He amazes me that he can endure such exquisite pain yet he doesn't just desire it he needs it , it completes him.

Back to the table i walk a little slower just to give him extra time to recover. Now the serious end of business will begin i look down at both canes glance to his bottom as if i cant remember the color but i think its perhaps more to admire my work.

I bypass the small whippy cane deciding the martinet had done its job more than adequately. The senior dragon cane lays in my hand i draw it through the air appreciating the low tone as it sings through the air.

The next 90 strokes will be a true measure of my ability, endurance and accuracy. He knows what awaits.

He adjusts himself as much as he can to prepare for the business end of the punishment the previous 60 strokes are going to feel like child's play compare to next stage of his thrashing.

My cane sings through the air like music to my ears. Connects perfectly to its target area, i know im a little to accurate sometimes hitting the same spot over than over as if in the same groove, i have had it described as an Exocet missile locked on target.

I once ate a pickle that had been on the floor for a staggering 16 seconds I know, I know But I just had to get it off my chest, for a while at least I understand that mercy is beyond me Im deeply sorry, sincerely Casual Satanist.

I am a huge exhibitionist, in fact my ultimate fantasy since middle school has been being forced to attend school completely naked as a punishment.

The fantasy only intensified when I got into high school. Now that I'm 19 years old and college age I want nothing more than to walk around campus in broad daylight completely naked.

I want to feel the complete and utter embarrassment and humiliation of being seen naked by all those people I'll have to see everyday.

I want them to take photos and videos and post them online. I want the evidence to eventually get back to all my high school and middle school classmates.

I want to feel the complete and total thrill of having nowhere to run or hide. I also want to be spanked in the nude by my fellow classmates, especially the females.

I want to be forced against my will to jerk off and cum in front of them. I want to be absolutely humiliated and forced to confess what a dirty filthy freaky exhibitionistic pervert I am.

Right from the time we started dating in high school my girlfriend would always take my clothes off when we made out. I didn't mind, though she wouldn't get naked herself, but would jerk me off.

It became obvious she liked me naked and eventually she admitted her fetish. It turns her on to strip me and boss me around.

It was kinky and fun.

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I started to feel a admiration for my man who sacrificed himself just for me! I was pumped, like a mother rescuing its child from extreme danger!

I decided that in order to take full justice the cock and front of his legs were to be addressed. I loosened his restraints and wiped and cleaned his bum not with soothing gel but direct antiseptic, which stings like hell.

Applied a dressing and helped him up,. I chuckle , "you haven't finished yet. I lead him to the bed told him to lay on his back , painful in it own sense.

I took the body strap with side hand cuffs and strapped him on the bed, placed leg spreaders on and secured it done..

On my table but the side I had brought in a spatula my whippy cane and my cock board with a hole cut in to pull his cock and balls through and an egg slice.

I picked up my incredibly whippy cane and started on the front of the legs and allowing wrap and across the cock area which was beginning to hide "bless you can run but you cant hide.

I must have laid down strokes in a matter of minutes his legs were covered in deep red tram line welts, the signature of the smaller cane. Time to create real pain.

I lifted his cock by the forskin and began to hit it with the cane he was sqealing and writhing in pain. The red marks appearing with every stroke l pulled it up against his stomach.

I took out my clover clamps fastened them securely to his foreskin then looped two more and attached to his nipples, then started again, cane then spatula, the egg slice, the cane again.

I repeated this over and over till he balls were dark red and cock black and blue. I sigh an audible relief an accomplishment, a satisfaction.

I was spent it was over. I loosen he straps quickly, he was now my sir lancelot once again. Took him to the bed covered him lovingly.

Then made a warm sweet drink for use both. I reckoned up we had come close to strokes. An onslaught that lasted more than 3 hours. My could i have been so sadistic so broken that i had need so much?

Climbing on the bed with him we held each other tightly and i thanked he over and over for what he had done for me what he had endured, i was crying but he never new i didn't make a sound as the tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

We kissed lovingly it seemed such a natural thing we both need the comfort the feeling of safety. We lay there holding each other for what seemed an age then slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms, both satisfied, both feeling our souls connected,both knowing we were bonded!

To Budding Writers, artists and poets. If you have something you would like to share which will be enjoyed by other please submit them via email and we will publish them on the site we reserve the right to refuse.

Shapely curvatures any lady would be proud of, yet the eye is drawn down to the slightest peek of the testicles hanging below,reminding me this is my man.

He adores me and i have emotion locked deep, afraid to show is lest it destroys the special connection when he looks into my eyes.

The excitement that warms and tingles parts it shouldn't. Yet undeniably draws me to this warm funny meek man, easy on the eye, yet unaware of this effect on me.

His soft grey hair, and matching moustache. Always smiling as he looks as me. He makes me smile all over. I admire the stillness of this inviting target as he awaits his punishment.

Today he will experience his needed strokes that is demanded. My eye is drawn to the side. A small table, which is carefully laid out, my implements of choice.

Perfectly presented was my well worn tawse previously owned by a foremost disciplinarian. Severe and the most imposing on the table, with three fingers perfectly cut, the thickness almost 7 mm and the length of my cane at 93cm.

Then two pale cream canes the same as far as they are both canes,the same lambs leather hand grip in fetching purple.

The thickness very different, the first a 7 mm in diameter whippy and sometimes unwieldy cane always needing to be tamed.

A small bottle of strong disinfectant wipes and some water. I become the character as i stepped through the doorway to my room.

A relatively bland matter of fact room fit for the serious punishment it accommodates. Having previously read out charges and sentence decided this offender will be in no doubt that justice will be served.

Striding round to the front of the bench i lean down and fasten each cuff in turn make sure my prisoner is securely fastened to the bench to prevent risk of escape in a moment of weakness or large movement which could lead to a strike moving off target.

I lay the leather strap over the kidney area as usual and secure it down. A serious crime committed a serious punishment to be administered. A gasp and then the sucking of air through his teeth as he bites down to help endure the pain.

The first stoke always feels the worst with no warm up the pain shocks the body the thud the followed by a wash of pain as body accepts and absorbs the impact.

I smile slightly as i watch an immediate welt appear across the center of his buttock only another 30 to go before i need change to the next implement.

The thrashing continues one stroke at a time some second between each stroke to allow the pain to be appreciated and to prepare for the next full force blow.

As the 30th stroke approaches he has relaxed into his thrashing ," as much as you can do at this level" ,and welts with surface bruising already apparent.

I feel more excited by my work clean a clear thus far. The next set of 30 are going to be quite different. As i return the tawse to its place on the table having rubbed it clean the disinfectant, i look down at my next implement.

I pick up the martinet, i swish it a little , for his benefit as well as my own. I place my hand on the very warm bottom and breath in deeply as i feel him yield to my gentle touch as if it were bliss, and in fact it probably is.

My belly is warming with feeling of excitement the more we progress. The martinet is drawn back and let lose. The first lash makes him pull his head up and let out a low growl as the stinging pain is overlaid on the marked skin of his rosy red bottom.

Immediately its evident how wicked this tool is thin blood marks appear under the skin where i deliberately extending the strands past the tawse marks onto fresh untouched skin.

Oooo pretty marks i think to myself. I continue with affective accuracy the lash land in the over and over in the correct spot.

I start to move the stokes down the sides of the thighs striping diagonally, such beautiful lines, each stoke connecting with fresh skin each lash giving maximum pain.

A time only the special kind of pain slut can desire that overriding desire to please and satisfy his mistress the rare breed that is known as " masochist".

I look down consider my next few blows know the without the restraints he would try to escape collapse in pain and without a doubt he is going to cry out.

As if reading my mind he braces. I draw the martinet back no need to be as long or strong as a short smaller stroke is going to have a lasting effect.

Swing it forward i catch his hang sack. He yells out as the thin fingers wrap around and catch almost every part of his balls. I stop move forward place my hand over his ball in a moment of brief compassion.

His legs buckled only the restraints holding his weight. Im grateful i fastened them securely. He amazes me that he can endure such exquisite pain yet he doesn't just desire it he needs it , it completes him.

Back to the table i walk a little slower just to give him extra time to recover. Now the serious end of business will begin i look down at both canes glance to his bottom as if i cant remember the color but i think its perhaps more to admire my work.

I bypass the small whippy cane deciding the martinet had done its job more than adequately. The senior dragon cane lays in my hand i draw it through the air appreciating the low tone as it sings through the air.

The next 90 strokes will be a true measure of my ability, endurance and accuracy. He knows what awaits. He adjusts himself as much as he can to prepare for the business end of the punishment the previous 60 strokes are going to feel like child's play compare to next stage of his thrashing.

My cane sings through the air like music to my ears. Connects perfectly to its target area, i know im a little to accurate sometimes hitting the same spot over than over as if in the same groove, i have had it described as an Exocet missile locked on target.

I choose my spot and work my way over every inch of flesh on his bottom. There are small small breaks in the skin appearing and the blood begins to appear.

Half way threw the ninety strokes i stop to wipe of my canes and clean his bottom. Its a welcome break for both.

I begin again the end in sight with each stroke. The blood is more abundant now causing a light spray with each blow. We are almost there and hes is on the edge of his endurance his limits already pushed.

I have judged it perfectly. The last 6 stroke are finally here. I place my hand on his back and for the first time speak a low quiet voice.

I draw each stroke with everything i have i exhale with each stroke my passion at the surface and audible moaning gently as i hear my singing cane and hear his final cries.

With each stroke.. I wipe him clean and apply a dressing, help him up and place my arm round him and lead him to lay on my bed.

I cover in with a fleece blanket and whisper i will be back. Place the empty glass down,move round to the other side of the bed climb on and wrap my arms around him.

I run my hand over him his head buried in my breasts which are tingling with desire. As we lay there I gently talk to him telling him how well he has done, how proud I am.

How much I want him. I lay stunned that I said the words out loud. He lifts his head looks at me and whispers I'm yours ma'am.

I feel how aroused he has become and im sure he knows hes not the only one. Like an elixir his energy those words ignite our passion. He raises and he takes me, starts to kiss with passion and we enjoy our time as if a celebration of the absolution he has been given.

He doesn't know it means much more to me The climax is dramatic and for 15 exquisite moments he feels no pain only pleasure of pleasing my more.

We are now bound by more than just my cane we are bound by love. There are many people here who appreciate the unique intensity of a judicial type punishment so I wonder what you think of the scenario below?

Are there any dominant females and sub males or females who would like to take part in such a scenario?

I want the evidence to eventually get back to all my high school and middle school classmates. I want to feel the complete and total thrill of having nowhere to run or hide.

I also want to be spanked in the nude by my fellow classmates, especially the females. I want to be forced against my will to jerk off and cum in front of them.

I want to be absolutely humiliated and forced to confess what a dirty filthy freaky exhibitionistic pervert I am. Right from the time we started dating in high school my girlfriend would always take my clothes off when we made out.

I didn't mind, though she wouldn't get naked herself, but would jerk me off. It became obvious she liked me naked and eventually she admitted her fetish.

It turns her on to strip me and boss me around. It was kinky and fun. If I didn't do as I was told I would get punished and often I disobeyed just for that to happen.

Spankings were the usual punishment and grinding my pelvis into her thigh while she slapped away made me hard. The sex afterwards was awesome.

I self-harm because everything is my fault. Everything could be avoided if I just kept my stupid mouth shut. I cut myself because I deserve it.

I need to punish myself, and die. You need a Premium Account to access that feature! We provide many cool features for confessions exclusively for premium users Go Premium.

Punishment Confessions Punishment confession stories and sins.

Sexy Punishment Stories -

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Sexy Punishment Stories

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