Emma Baker - The Bitch In Me - Kinky Bedtime Sex Stories

"Why are you being punished?" The man in silk asked you in a low voice.

"This slut is being punished for failing to use its tongue properly, Sir." Your voice wavers slightly.

Smack. "What did you fail to use it for, slut?"

"Fifty-three, Sir. I failed to make Mistress Lydia cum in less than five minutes, Sir." Mistress Lydia regarded you with a mock coldness from her seat.

Smack. "What are you?" The man kept his hand on your ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing.

"Fifty-four, Sir. I am a useless slave cunt, Sir." I'm proud of this declaration.

Smack. "You should be grateful that I am here to correct you." Your ass jiggles violently, but your face remains composed.

"Fifty-five, Sir. Thank you for correcting me, Master James, I need correction."

"Why do you need correction?"

"I need correction because I'm a dumb slut, Sir."

Smack. "That's right. Good whore." Master James produced a paddle and ran it lightly over your ass. "Dumb sluts like you need lots of correction, don't they? That's why I use these." He leaned over and dangled it in front of your face, letting it swing back and forth like a pendulum.

Your eyes follow the paddle as you respond. "Please spank me, Sir, I need it..." I can feel your apprehension. The next 35 spanks bring you close to tears.

Smack. "Eighty-seven, Sir..." Your arms tremble and there is a real tremor in your voice now.

Smack. "Eighty...eight....Sir!" You gasp.

SMACK. "AHH...eighty NINESIRNINETYSIR!" He disrupts his rhythm with the next spank. Leaning down, he speaks softly to you.

"I'm going to give you an opportunity to correct your little mistake, and if you do, we'll forgive the last ten spanks. Okay, slut?"

"Yes, Sir...please, Sir..."

"Are you going to make us proud?"

"Oh yes, Sir, I am, please let mmmf-" Mistress Lydia suddenly reached down and clamped her hand over your mouth. She gave you a hard look into your eyes, and enunciated three words.

"Make. Me. Cum." You nod frantically, and are allowed to lower your arms. Mistress Lydia's chair is repositioned so that she can sit directly in front of your face, with her pussy level with your mouth. Master James starts fingering you, and you go to work on your task, licking and sucking Mistress Lydia. Your fervor is rewarded soon enough as Lydia cums explosively, grabbing the back of your head and furiously humping your face. Master James laughs, and delivers a final spank to your punished ass.

The crowd laughed and cheered as James hoisted you to your feet to present your newly disciplined behind, bending you at the waist and leading you by the back of your head, forcing you to spin in place. Lydia spread your asscheeks, showing everyone your perfect slut holes. Leading Sasha, I approached the platform and caught James' attention.

"Nice job. This one's mine, do you mind if I steal her for a moment?"

He laughed. "Not at all. A beautiful ass, absolute pleasure to spank. On behalf of everyone, thank you for bringing her."

"Thanks for spanking her." I reply with a small smile. "She does desperately need the punishment."

Pleased with his work and showmanship, he complied gracefully, handing you to me and melting into the crowd with a flourish. Lydia smiled at me, then drew your mouth open with a finger and spat into it. With that, she walked off.

I drew you close, lifting your chin with a finger. As I've trained you to do, you opened your mouth and hung your tongue, like a dog panting in heat. Your arms went back up, locked behind your head. I looked into your eyes, deeply. I know you inside and out. Something about the way you looked back at me tells me that you love this, love being publicly used, displayed, shamed. Sasha beamed at you and planted a kiss on your cheek, to which you fluttered your eyelids to show your appreciation.

You tilted your head slightly, and I can sense a silent plea; you wanted me to do that to you now. To show everyone how completely I've made you mine, how much of a slut I've molded you into. I stuck two fingers into your open mouth, sliding them across your wet tongue toward your throat. You convulsed a little as you attempted to suppress your gag reflex, your already brimming eyes in danger of overflowing, and I smiled.

In a few moments, I had you on all fours secured to a spanking horse. A few of your admirers were still gathered around, to my delight, and Sasha stood by your head. She's smiling, cooing and stroking your hair, as if you were her pet. I tightened the last strap. With the help of Sasha, I was going to make a show of you.

I moved around you and whispered into Sasha's ear. She turned her head slightly to me, not moving her eyes from you. Finally, she giggled and nodded. "Can I get a chair?" She asked an attendant floating nearby. Within seconds, a black leather chair materialized, and she elegantly sat in front of you.

Nude in her chair except for her heels, she looked at you and formed her lips into a playful pout. "I've been walking around all night, and my feet are so sore. They ache." She gently placed the bottom of one of her heels square in the center of your forehead. "Are you gonna help me out?" Unable to raise your head to look at her, you nevertheless answered clearly in the affirmative. "Yes, ma'am, I will."

Standing beside you, watching my little foot fetish fantasy unfold and idly groping your ass, I watched Sasha's visage become darker and more dominant, the picture of a powerful and sadistic mistress. She raised her leg from your forehead and angled her foot just below your mouth. "Undo my shoe." There was no playfulness in her tone. I watched the back of your head as you struggled to undo the complex buckles of her heel with your teeth. Members of our audience, milling about with drinks and idle chatter, laughed at your efforts. Sasha allowed you to struggle for about a minute, relishing how helpless you were and how futile the task she had set for you was. Finally, she let out a comically exasperated sigh and undid her own shoe, leaning in to chastise you.

"I asked you to help me out, didn't I? Don't you want to make my aching feet feel better?"

"Yes ma'am, I'm sorry ma'am!" You are, by now, very used to the feeling of apologizing for failing to complete impossible tasks.

"Can't you complete simple tasks? I only asked you to take my shoe off."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am, I'm trying-"

"Call me mistress. You really are a stupid little slut, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress, I am!" You love degradation.

"Say it. Tell all these people, in fact. Say it to everyone!" She takes your hair in her hand and turns your head toward our very amused audience.

Having no choice, you speak, addressing the room at large. "I....I'm a stupid slut, everyone!"

Your declaration is met with jeers and laughter. Some people stepped forward to slap your ass and thighs. Working my hand between your legs, into your exposed pussy, I can feel you getting significantly wet.

Sasha slapped your cheek to bring your attention back to her. "Good girl. Now. My feet still ache. Maybe you'll be useful for something after all, slut." Deftly undoing her other shoe, she placed her feet next to each other and raised them up. Her soles were white, creamy and, to my estimation, slightly larger than average. The curve of her insole is whiter than the pink outer region and her toes descend in length, Egyptian style. She parted them slightly, to look you in the eyes as she issued her next command. "Lick my feet."

Your tongue extended once more, and she lowered her soles to your face. I moved closer to watch you run your tongue up and down her soles. She pressed her right foot into your face, using her left to hook around your neck and draw you closer.

"Do you like my feet?" She slid her foot down to rest the ball of her foot over your mouth, with her toes just under your nose. Her nails were painted a stylish black.