BDSM Story "Disobedience punishment" written for Oxy-Shop - Oxy-shop

Disobedience punishment

Day one:

 

          It was six days before a trial I am handling for Mr. Tilter, although I was a little confused as to why I was as it did not seem like an important case, but he asked me, and I am always agreeable. I have not had any other cases recently, so my schedule was not very busy.

I spent the morning cleaning. Just before lunch Boris came to get me. He took me back into our playroom and put me back on the cross for my hour of penance, my first of five days, and five hours. He just secured me to the cross and left me there, naked of course.

 

He came back in about 10 minutes. He did not say anything, he just used his fingers to feel all around my pussy, getting me all excited. Then he pushed his vibrating egg inside me, turned it on with his remote, and left me there.

 

He came back about 10 minutes later, and felt me to see how wet I was. Then he started kissing my breasts, feeling them gently, biting my nipples lightly, even kissing me on my mouth a few times. He reached down to check the moisture level between my thighs, seemed satisfied and left the room.

 

About five minutes later, I could feel he increased the vibration rate of the egg, which was getting me to the point of climax, but not there, it was getting very frustrating, as he set the egg timer to increase for a minute or two, then slow down to make sure I could get close to climax, but never get there.

 

About 10 minutes passed before he came back again. He just stood there smirking at me, knowing how he was frustrating me, watching my face. He reached down with his hand and used a finger to massage my clit a bit, again, he got me to the point of explosion, then pulled his finger away, wiped his finger on my lips, and left me alone again.

 

After I spent the next 10 minutes almost in agony as that egg kept going up and down, feeling wonderful, and withdrawing vibration again, he was back, this time with a few feathers. I hate his feathers.

 

He has not used them on me for a long time. How are you feeling, Missy?

 

He knew how I was feeling, like I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to come so badly. But, no, he was not going to allow that, no, he started tickling me with his feathers. He drove me crazy tickling me, giggling at me, tickling me more. I forget about my lack of orgasm frustration while all I could do is struggle against his feathers while laughing my ass off, while there was nothing funny about it. Odd how that works.

 

The tickling must have lasted 10 minutes or more, as he tickled and got me hysterical and stopped for 30 to 60 seconds and began again. By the time he was finished with his fun, I was exhausted.

 

If faces could kill; he would be having a problem, as I stared at him, half wanting to scratch his eyes out and half laughing.

 

He left me again, the egg I had forgotten about for 10 minutes was back to doing its ever so frustrating job. I was never able to cum with just the egg anyway, it just got me excited, and Boris would finish the task. But Boris never turned it up so high before, so that day I had hope, but no, nothing but total frustration, over and over again.

 

Boris was back, no feathers, just Boris. He stood there staring at me, smirking, enjoying himself, with me wondering and hoping, ready to scream, finish the job!, but did not dare say anything that would be against his rules.

 

Finally, he spoke: Missy, you seem to be having a lot of fun, but I did not put you on that cross to have fun, so I guess we need to subtract your fun time from you cross time, so I will leave you there for another 30 minutes, that’s seems fair, right?

 

I knew better than to answer a question that was not really a question, as I almost smiled with his sarcasm, as I was having a problem remembering where the fun was for me. I was still ready to scream: FINISH THE JOB BORIS! As my frustration was still going strong.

 

As he paused to enjoy my face, he smirked at me again, and added: I think I will turn the egg all the way to high and see what happens, and he left me again, as the egg was just driving me nuts, but no orgasm, just frustration.

 

About five minutes later the egg stopped, Boris did not come back, and I just hung there for about 10 minutes longer. Boris was back, using his fingers to remove the egg, as he made sure to linger and I almost came with his touch, but he denied me again. He let me down, and said: don’t you have cleaning to do? And he walked away, leaving me totally frustrated.

 

I washed and redressed and went to his office to see what he wanted for lunch, as a good maid does. But as soon as he turned around and looked at me: we both just started laughing. But I was still frustrated and horny and remained that way for the rest of the day.

In bed that night we cuddled and watched a movie. There was no sex, so I assumed that was going to be part of my week, as well. But what about Boris, I asked myself, he was not getting any satisfaction either. That did not seem right to me, but it was not like I could ask him about it. YEA! But there was a reason, I found out about it later in the week.

 

Day two:

 

          As with yesterday, right before lunch Boris came and got me and secured me to the cross for my correction hour.

 

This day after the first 10 minutes Boris came back naked. I though perhaps he was going to tease me by fucking me and stopping before I could fully enjoy myself, but no. First, he took something out of a drawer and came over to me. I could not see behind me, but he put some lubricant on a device and inserted it inside my anus. Then it began to vibrate, so this day was rear vibration day as yesterday was vagina day, what fun. It made little difference to me, he was just going to frustrate me in a different place, the result would be the same, frustration.

 

He left and came back in 10 minutes, still naked, and began rubbing me all over my body. First, he used his fingers to see how moist I was, to ascertain the level of my excitement. Then he began with my breast with his hands, then his mouth, then his teeth. Then he moved around behind me and worked on my ass for a while. It was a good thing I was bound, or I would have tackled him to the ground and sat on Little Boris until I exploded.

 

Boris knew just how to excite the different parts of my body, as he put his excited little Boris between my thighs so I could feel it both in the back and against my pussy lips, as he moved it back and forth, not inserting it, while he kissed and bit my neck and rubbed his nakedness all over me; I wanted to scream.

 

He left me there panting in total frustration, as I began to wonder if the whipping was worse than this torture.

 

Boris came back in another 10 minutes; he must have been setting his watch as his timing was too accurate for it to be so precise. This time he picked up a cane, the ¼ inch cane, which stings like a bee stinging, but is not heavy enough to leave deep or lasting welts. Every five seconds or so, he would give me a stroke and it felt like 30 bees stung me at one time. The sting would last about 15 seconds or so. He gave me about 20 strokes and left me again.

The whole time the vibrator in my rear was still going strong. Like the egg, that vibrator in my rear was never going to get me to climax, but it was enough to keep me excited and add to my overall frustration.

 

Boris came back every 10 minutes after that and touched me, kissed me, bit me, even tickled me a little, to keep me on the edge of climax, and then would ruin it with another 20 cane strokes before leaving me.

 

As my hour came to an end, Boris unbound me and told me he was leaving the vibrator inside me, without the vibration, and I was to serve lunch still wearing my six-inch-high heels. After standing in those heels for an hour, it was a chore to wear them longer and worse; to walk in them took extra careful balance. It took much longer to get anywhere as you can only take about a half footstep at a time, almost like sliding your feet forward. All the while, with each small step the vibrator in my ass would move and half excite, and half be annoying.

 

I made lunch and served it, as he told me I could sit and eat as well. Of course! I had to sit with that thing still inside me, it was very comfortable, NOT!

 

So much for correction day number two, as I wondered what he would invent for day three.

 

 

Day three, I still laugh about day three when I think back upon that day:

         

          Boris arranged an evening tennis match with Mandy and Curtis, which I was looking forward to as neither Boris nor I played since Boris found out I tried to get us all killed.

 

Boris did not put me on the cross before lunch that day, he waited until 5 pm, with our tennis time at 6:30. Knowing Boris, there had to be a connection, but I was never able to guess what he may do with me in normal play sessions, these correction sessions were no different, he is very creative.

 

I suspect you may be asking yourself where the actual punishment was in all of this, as it all seemed like playtime. The actual punishment was hanging on the cross for the hour, it is very taxing on my shoulders, feet, and legs.

 

As he affixed me to the cross at 5 pm, he brought out the nipple clamps. For those of you that are familiar with such clamps, they are made with flat edges, which just squeeze, and they are made with edges that look like alligator teeth that bite into whatever they are clamped on. The ones Boris uses on me are the flat type, which are adjustable, not like a clothes pin with a spring which applies the same continuous pressure. Boris’s can be adjusted with a tightening wheel so they can offer very light pressure or extreme pressure. That day, and most times Boris ever used them, he seems to have found the pressure which hurts but also is somewhat exciting. So, he put them on me and left me there for about 30 minutes. Over time, as I have told you in the past, the longer the clamps stay on the more they hurt. So, without any additional playing to take my minds attention over the 30 minutes, I just became more and more uncomfortable as my nipples were getting sore, beginning to pound a little with pain, while my legs and feet were becoming more uncomfortable in those 6-inch booties, and my shoulders were a little sore from the first two days, and becoming a little more painful.

 

Then Boris came in and picked up the 3/8s cane. Thicker and longer than the ¼ inch cane; Boris gave me 10 hard strokes, with each stinging like 50 bee stings. Those strokes would leave welts for days. I did not cry, but I was close. Boris knew I could take between 10 and 15 strokes before the pain got so bad, I could not help but cry.

 

Boris put the cane down and then brought out something new. It was a leather thong. I wore lace thongs all the time to play tennis when Boris ordered such, and most often under my dresses when we went out. Boris likes my ass to be bare so he can reach under my dress and grab my ass when he wishes, even in public, he enjoys embarrassing me that way.

 

So, my point was, why leather. It is heavier and did not seem to serve any purpose. Also strange about it, it hooked together, so Boris could put it on me by sliding the center piece between my thighs and hooking the side straps together. I saw no point to that other than he could put it on me and remove it without unbinding me.

 

Boris used his fingers and probed my pussy: he knew just how to get me excited. Then he moved behind me and did the same to my anus, teasing me from both sides, but never allowing any climax, he gave me another 10 strokes with the cane and left me. He did not come back until the hour was up. Overall Boris did not do as much to me that day, maybe he was short for a new idea, but I felt like something was off. Without his playfulness, the punishment part was much worse, maybe that was the idea.

 

I know my husband very well. I am very sensitive to his movements, his mood, and his attitude, and I felt there was more, but my hour was over, and he unbound me, gave me a nice hug and kiss and told me to get dressed for tennis, but leave the thong on.

 

So, the thong was the clue, but it was just a thong, a leather thong, but still just underwear, and I would have worn a normal lace thong anyway, so my ass being available was not the issue. YEA! I was missing something.

 

We moved along and started playing tennis. We played a few games, maybe for 15 minutes, AND THERE IT WAS! mystery solved. I am sure most of you have seen a girl at one time or another who had to pee really, really badly. She may squeeze her thighs together, bend over a bit at the waist, even have her knees together with her lower legs at an angle, and her feet pointed inward. She may look like she was punched in the belly and was bent over trying to breathe.

 

Well, that was me. The leather thong turned out to be an electrical leather thong. Boris had a clicker in his pocket and when he pushed the button, the triangular front piece that covered my pussy would give me a shock. The shock ran along both sides of my pussy lips causing them to convulse or tighten inwardly. The shock was very light, and would last maybe 5 to 10 seconds, but did not hurt, it tickled, and made me laugh.

 

So, there I was bent over, squeezing my thighs together, and laughing.

 

Boris: So, he waits a few seconds and says: what's so funny Missy, right in the middle of the point. I tried to say something to him, like very funny, but he just pushed his button again and my legs reacted again, as I laughed and laughed like a fool.

 

After about 40 to 50 seconds, I was able to stand straight and stop laughing. So went our tennis match, every time Boris felt like it, he would push the button and I had to stop and laugh as it was tickling my pussy, I could not help myself, even as I tried not to laugh, I could not stop.

 

After the first 5 or so times, as laughter is sometimes contagious, Mandy started to laugh along with me. I tried to pass it off as cramps, but girls don’t laugh at cramps, while it did offer somewhat of a reason for my body contractions.

 

Boris zapped me once while I was receiving serve from Mandy, and I could not return the ball, as I was, again, too busy laughing and embarrassing myself as people from other courts were watching me. Then Boris would say: what’s up with you Missy, maybe you need a couple of cane strokes for each return you miss. RIGHT! Like he did not know! As he played dumb.

 

By the second set, Boris could no longer remain stoic any longer as he was laughing along with Mandy and me. Curtis, he was just confused. Sometimes I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pass out.

 

Boris and I lost the tennis match that evening, but we laughed all the way home. Despite what Boris did, it was very funny, if you could appreciate such a husband, which I do. Even while I write this, I am smiling and laughing thinking back to that day.