Chapter 3: Paying the Price

Entering Liz’s bedroom for the second time, I was again struck by its minimally elegant furnishings. It was a relatively large room but only contained a king-sized four-poster bed, a walk-in robe, a chest of drawers, a mirror, and a chair. But everything, in an understated way, screamed quality. Liz had extinguished, moved the candles to her dresser, and pulled back the heavy dark curtains. The morning light poured into the room. It was going to be a gorgeous day.

Liz walked in ahead of me, and without looking at me, she said, “Drop the robe and lie on the bed face down. Close your eyes.”

A little bothered by her brusque tone, I still complied.

“Spread your legs and reach your arms up toward the posts,” Liz instructed.

I was lying on the mattress, completely starkers, spread-eagle. Liz took some velvet ropes out of one of the dresser drawers, doubled four of them over, and wrapped all four around my wrists and ankles, pushing the rope ends through the loops created by doubling the ropes up. Then, sliding the ends through until the ropes were snug against my skin, she tied them securely to the bedposts.

I tested the rope’s strength by pulling downwards and flexing my biceps. They held firm, but I wasn’t at all concerned. I’m 19, 6-ft. 4-in. of lean athletic muscle, and bulletproof. As most young men think we are, remember? If I can’t handle two little slips of girls, what actual use am I?

Taking out a silk scarf and a heavy leather paddle about 2-ft. long, 10-in. wide and studded with steel ringed holes with a leather-wrapped handle.

Liz showed the two items to me. “I’m going to paddle you 12 times with this, between here and here,” she told me as she tapped the paddle’s edge from above the top of my gluteus maximus to the top of the back of my thighs.

“You will count them and thank me for each one, as you did last night. But first, I will blindfold you with this,” showing me the scarf. “Any objections?”

Well ... I could think of a few! But to my surprise, I said nothing!

“John!” She snapped. “This is the price to fuck, and come inside me, are you willing to pay it?”

I nodded my head.

Giving me a short sharp smack on my ass cheek with her hand, Liz said, “The correct answer is ‘Yes, Mistress’. So, once again, are you willing to pay the price?” She demanded of me.

I inwardly shrugged and thought, ‘WTF?’ but merely said “Yes, Mistress,” to her.

Liz quickly bound the scarf around my eyes. No matter how much I screwed my head around, I couldn’t see a damned thing! I think the anticipation was the worst! Next, Liz dragged the paddle down my spine, between my shoulder blades, across my ass, and down my thighs to the back of my knees. She repeated this at least a half dozen times. Every time she neared my ass, my glutes would tighten in anticipation of the whack.

I didn’t realise Liz was waiting for me to relax and think this was just some kind of weird foreplay. However, as soon as I let out a shuddering sigh and settled on the mattress, she walloped me across that nexus point of nerves just above my ass where my spine met my tailbone.

“Fuck!” Exploded out of me.

With an obvious effort to suppress laughter, Liz said, “The correct response is ‘One, thank you, Mistress’, but I will let it ride this time. Or, was that not one?”

“One, thank you, Mistress,” I quickly said.

“Good boy,” she said.

‘Good boy’? I thought. ‘Seriously, WTF?’

Stroking the welt, Liz waited for me to relax again. She hit me three more times right across both ass cheeks as soon as I did, but a lot less viciously than the first hit. My ass was already warm and hurting, and there were still 8 more to go!

“2, 3 and 4, thank you, Mistress,” I intoned. Not willing to risk them not being counted.

No sooner had I said ‘Mistress’ Liz hit me harder than the first time on the top and back of my thighs, expertly missing my gluteus maximus.

I barely stifled another “Fuck!” and managed to force out “5, thank you, Mistress.”

As I rode the pain in and on my ass cheeks and upper thighs down, Liz wet a finger, slipped it between my cheeks, and rimmed my ass. It didn’t help with the pain, but it was certainly a welcome distraction!

It was about then I suddenly became aware of the smell of Liz’s arousal. Her breath was coming in short gasps. It was bleedingly obvious paddling me had her hotter than hell!

‘Interesting,’ I thought.

Liz gave me three more across my cheeks, but, in comparison, they were pretty mild in their intensity, so I could easily mouth “7, 8 and 9,” thank you, Mistress.”

The skin on my ass was burning, and I was sure she had ‘caned it raw’ just as Becca had promised me she would if I had tried to fuck her, except I hadn’t. Was I supposed to have? I wondered. I should have known better, though. Liz is an expert with whips, canes, crops, floggers, and paddles. But, as far as I’m aware, or had anyone tell me, she’s never once drawn blood!

She stroked her fingers gently across my flaming ass. Then, Liz said, “You can use two safe words if necessary. Orange, if you need me to slow down and wait for a time. Red, if you want to ‘pussy out’ and not get to fuck me. Do I hear a safe word?”

‘Safe words? Red, orange? I have no idea WTF you’re waffling about, woman! Let’s just get this done and get to the fucking part,’ I thought. But I shook my head and said, “No, thank you, Mistress.

“Good boy,” she told me.

‘Again with the ‘Good boy’? What is with that?’ I remember thinking to myself.

Moving a bit further back so she could let loose, Liz firmly and quickly gave me the last three whacks. One on each ass cheek and the last, an especially vicious hit, on that same nexus point again.

“10, 11 and 12,” I moaned painfully. “Thank you, Mistress.”

‘Thank fuck, that’s over with,’ I thought. ‘I’m not sure cumming in your velvet-lined cunt is worth doing this again!’

Almost as soon as the last whack was delivered, I felt two hands spreading my burning ass cheeks. Some soothing cream was first rubbed onto the raw red flesh.

Much to my delight, a warm wet tongue started rimming me after that. Reaching between my thighs, the tongue’s owner, I assumed it was Liz but found out later, from Becca herself (the little anal slut), that it was she who took hold of my now flaccid penis.

I know a lot of guys get off on receiving pain, but I am definitely not one of them!

Pulling gently on my dick and rimming my ass Becca (I still thought it was Liz) introduced a finger into the mix. First, she only fingered the entrance to my rosebud. But as the area got wetter and wetter from her invading tongue, she slipped her finger further and further into my ass.

It wasn’t unpleasant, so I didn’t complain.

Working her finger around in my hole Becca gently stretched my ‘back door love passage’ open. Shortly she was able to add a second finger and opened me further.

I still didn’t find this arousing, but from the low sharp pants I could hear, I could tell it was turning Liz on even more, so I put up with it.

Once whoever was stretching my hole open was satisfied it was big enough, the tongue and fingers were removed from my now gaping ass.

Liz asked, “Do you still want to fuck me and cum in my pussy, John?”

‘Well, does a bear take communion?’ I thought. But merely nodded my head emphatically and added a “Yes, please, Mistress,” just to make sure!

Liz removed the blindfold and knelt on the bed beside me. She was completely naked except for a strapon dildo that arced lewdly from her pudenda. The ‘cock’ part was much smaller than the one she had used to fuck Becca into submission the previous night, but it still looked huge to me.

I could see and smell the results of Liz’s arousal running down the inside of her thighs. “First, I’m going to fuck you in the ass with this!” She informed me.

‘That wasn’t part of the deal,’ I thought. ‘But, hey! In for a penny in for a pound, right?’

I didn’t say anything out loud, though.

“Do you wish to use a safe word?” Liz asked.

“No, Mistress,” I answered.

Undoing the ropes to my ankles, Liz allowed me to close my legs before she wrapped the rope around both ankles and retied me to the foot of the bed. Then, straddling my thighs and resting her weight on a hand placed on my lower back just above my flaming ass, Liz guided the strapon’s head to the entrance to my rosebud.

“Just relax and let it slide in,” she told me. “If it sticks a little, clench down on it with your sphincter muscles, push back at it as if you’re trying to push it back out, then relax again. It’ll pop straight in, trust me.”