The Connoisseur: A Romance of Sexual Captivity - Cover

The Connoisseur: A Romance of Sexual Captivity

Copyright© 2021 by Jack Corwin

Chapter 6: Alice’s Visit to the Spanking Bench, and What Alice Found There

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6: Alice’s Visit to the Spanking Bench, and What Alice Found There - Jack is a connoisseur of women, and a trainer of submissive slavegirls.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Slavery   Heterosexual   Fiction   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Spanking   Oral Sex  

My Alice woke to find herself cuffed and bound again. This time, she wore a black leather collar around her neck, with a brass loop for a leash, and a single, tiny brass padlock. Matching cuffs were locked to her wrists and ankles. Not that she needed a collar to remind her of her status, any more than she needed the whip to enforce it. But the symbol added, well, spice. Besides, she looked lovely in it. Her neck was positively made for a slave’s collar.

I’d attached her cuffs to the legs of a good, old-fashioned spanking bench that kept her secure and raised her bottom nicely. I’d removed the anal plug and vibrator. I had not bothered to gag her again.

I was seated nearby, clad again in my smoking jacket. I’d poured another glass of wine, but I had not tasted it. Instead, when I saw Alice’s eyes fluttering open, I knelt and raised he glass to her lips. She drank gratefully. Then she looked at me. I smiled, but I did not speak.

“So,” she said at last, in that lovely British accent. “No gag this time?”

I smiled again. “Not now, I think, my treasure.”

“And what if I use my safe word?”

I shrugged. I didn’t intend to lie to her, but I saw no reason to tell give her a direct answer, either.

“Do you want to? Really? Do you want to leave here and go back to that drab and empty little flat? Or would you have stay here, treasured and appreciated? For tonight at least?” I smiled again. “Would you like to come like that again?”

Her cheeks grew red as she flushed in a most charming manner. “Oh my God. I’ve never come like that. I didn’t know I could come like that.”

“I can show you more, Alice.”

“Caroline,” she corrected me, firmly.

“Not in here,” I said. Then, more gently: “Caroline belongs to your old life. Are you so eager to be her again?”

Alice moved, testing her bonds. “Do I have a choice?”

“You didn’t answer my question, pet.”

Alice blushed and closed her eyes.

“I remember all those talks we had,” I said, my voice low and husky, almost a whisper. Just as I’d said when she first arrived, when I’d first bound and gagged her. “When you told me your darkest, secret fantasies. I made them come true for you. Didn’t I, my treasure?”

Alice opened her eyes and met my gaze. “Not like I had a choice, did I?”

“If you’d had a choice, your wish wouldn’t have come true, would it?”

She closed her eyes again. Then she shook her head. “No,” she said at last.

“No what, Alice?”

“No ... no, Sir.”

“Very good, my Alice. Now then. Enough of this nonsense. Do you want to leave here? Now? Into the rain and cold? Or do you want to stay here tonight? In my home, where I can keep you warm and protected. Do you want to learn what I can still teach you? About yourself and your lovely, precious body?”

She flushed again and turned her gaze to the floor. I reached down, hooked by finger through the ring in her collar, and raised her face, forcing her to meet my gaze. I kissed her lightly but I spoke firmly. “Answer me. Now.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want to stay here,” she said. “With you. Tonight. Sir.”

“What is your name?” I asked her.

No answer. I waited. Nothing.

“What is your name?” I repeated, sternly. My command voice that brooked no nonsense.

Again, hesitation, because in her heart, the girl who had been Caroline knew she wasn’t just answering a simple question. She wasn’t playing a game.

She was surrendering. Caroline was a free woman. Alice was a sex slave. It was time to decide who she wanted to be.

I saw a single tear in her eye before she looked up at me again. “My name is Alice. Sir. Your Alice.”

“Good girl,” I said, standing. I moved behind her. “You are a very good girl.”

“Thank you.” Now her voice wasn’t even a whisper. “But please. Sir. Please don’t hurt me again.”

“Alice, my sweet treasure, my cherished prize. Don’t you see? The pain is part of the pleasure. Mine, naturally. But yours, too. You will learn that.”

I had placed a selection of crops and floggers nearby. I had spanked her soundly before, but it was time her shapely bottom met the whip. I selected a flogger, one longer and more supple than the one I’d used on her breasts. Her nether cheeks had paled; it was time to warm them again.

I started slowly again, flicking softly, so that the fingers of the flogger almost caressed, rather than stinging her. Alice moaned; this was the first time I’d whipped her without a gag in place. I smiled to myself. I intensified my blows. I wanted to hear her music.

“Please...” She moaned. “Oh my God. P ... please, Sir!”

I ignored her pleas. I had placed a full length mirror in front of the spanking bench, so that I could watch Alice’s sweet and lovely face even as I attended to her pert and round bottom. She, in turn, could watch me. I saw her flinch as the fingers of the flogger flashed against one orb, and then the other. Harder, and harder still. Alice gasped and bit her lip, trying not to cry out again. Ah! A feisty one. I like spirit in a woman, even in a natural submissive like my Alice.

I lashed her with more vigor, faster, harder, and watched her bottom glow red again, like a slowly kindling fire.

Another lash.

Another.

Another.

Alice gasped and bit her lip.

The strands of leather made the most satisfying thwack and they snaked across her bottom cheeks, and Alice’s gasps and moans grew to screams. She did not beg again. Not yet.

Nonetheless, I decided to give her a brief respite. I transferred the handle of the whip to my left hand, and then began to caress the white skin of her bottom and thighs with the fingers of my right. I teased her mercilessly for some long minutes, dancing closer to the wetness of her open and waiting slit before dancing nimbly away, and she moaned with both pleasure and frustration.

“Please—” she managed.

“Please what, my pet?” I asked her.

“Please ... Sir ... please ... touch me. Touch me... there.”

She would need to do better, but it was, after all, a first session, so I rewarded her, teasing first the outer lips of her slit, making her cry out with pleasure and gratitude.

“There, my precious one?”

“Please—”

“In your lovely, wet, aroused cunt?”

“Please! P-please ... Sir!”

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