Preview of NAMED AND SHAMED – #Ponygirl romp #BDSM

Named and ShamedGOOD EVENING

 

The Mercedes coupé slunk silently through the evening traffic, sneaking in and out of lanes with stealth and speed. Like a bullet made of liquid silver, the six litre engine had eaten up several hundred miles of motorway with sublime ease and was now purring happily in the smog-filled heart of London. Comfortably stretched out in one of its grey, Nappa leather seats, the driver was in a world of his own. His knuckles were tightly clamped around the steering wheel and it was evident that the events of his day had been stressful.  The bittersweet strains of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata could be heard throughout the vehicle, but the dulcet tones did not manage to soothe its occupant.

After forty minutes of queuing, the driver finally reached his destination, exited swiftly and tossed his keys to a waiting valet. In the heart of London, the city played its usual vibrant tune and the sounds of honking horns, noisy car stereos and cursing motorists could be heard. Usually, he barely even noticed them, but this evening they appeared to be amplified to unbearable proportions. His usual smile was absent and the state of agitation he found himself in grew with each passing second. Walking purposefully towards the revolving doors of the sheet glass skyscraper that towered in front of him, the only sound that could be heard was the receptionist as she scraped back her chair and rose to greet him.

“Good evening, Sir. I hope you had…”

“Thank you, Lucinda.” He shut the blonde down with those three clipped words and continued walking. Initially her eyes flared with shock, but recovering quickly, she looked carefully at the floor before re-seating herself. She didn’t quite manage to hide her disappointed expression. Although they had been intimate on several occasions, the blonde was not what he needed today. He required a brunette and not just any brunette. He wanted a trained accomplice for the deeds he had in mind. He would find one of those several metres up in the air.

Pressing the button for the elevator he waited until a melodic ping announced its arrival. Immediately stepping inside, the doors closed swiftly behind him and he rode in contemplative silence until they opened their jaws on the twenty first and uppermost floor.

“Good evening, Mr…”

Another chair moved and another blonde shot up to try and greet him. “I want Marianna in my office, now,” he barked.

Unlike the female downstairs, Kerry had the benefit of at least three years of submissive training. His surly demeanour and sharp commands immediately primed her for action.

“And tell her to bring me a cup of coffee and an aspirin.”

He strode purposefully to the dark panelled door to the left of him, which bore his name plate in scripted gold lettering and pulled it open wide. He rifled through the papers on his desk and checked his messages. There was nothing that wouldn’t wait until tomorrow, which was good. This evening, he had plans and lots of them. No sooner had he sat himself down, than Marianna’s high heels could be heard marching efficiently down the corridor. Kerry had obviously relayed the news of his good humour. He almost smiled.

The long-haired brunette entered gracefully, bearing a silver salver with a cup of black coffee, a tall glass of water and a blister pack of tablets. She laid it to rest on his giant, solid mahogany desk and gracefully fell to the floor beside it. On her knees, she kept her eyes downcast and tilted her head forward. Her arms were then neatly folded behind her back.

So, this was the lovely Marianna. He vaguely remembered employing her. Unlike most of the girls in his office, she had been hired chiefly for her computer skills rather than any other purpose. Of course, the girl was a beauty, but then… they all were. Her long chestnut hair framed her face in delicate waves, she had a pair of sparkling green emerald eyes which could dazzle a lesser man and her lips were full and ripe for the taking, dressed only in a thin coat of clear gloss. They were currently posed in the most deliciously sensuous pout. For a couple of quiet minutes, he allowed himself the pleasure of admiring her tantalising form. The sheer white blouse that she wore accentuated her full breasts and he could see wisps of white lace beneath it. The knee length black skirt did nothing to cool his ardour because he was already imagining what it might be concealing. Most of his submissives knew that he preferred his women clean shaven and without the additional hindrance of underwear, but he would have to wait and see what delights this one would reveal. He suspected she’d toe the line. The penalties of misbehaviour in his office were often detrimental to the health of one’s backside… amongst other things.

He had never used her. It was no secret that he had a preference for blondes and eighty per cent of the woman in his office conformed to this whim. The brunettes were there purely for decoration. They were often used by his colleagues or a visitor, but rarely, if ever, by him.

It was clear that she was nervous by the faint ripple of movement which flowed through her body and so she should be. Women talked and the other ladies in his office had many tales to tell. Tonight, this beautiful creature was going to be used as he had used no-one else in his office before. He punched two chalky white tablets from their plastic coating and let his fingers rest upon the highball glass. There was a slight wobble in his hand as he reached for the water, and it annoyed him. He needed to calm down and he needed release. One would probably follow the other, although the order might need to be reversed. Swallowing the tablets, he began to envision how his evening would unfold.

“Stand.” The command was soft, but there was no disguising the edge to his voice. She obeyed instantly. “I want my coffee, Marianna.” His voice was a growl and his eyes appeared almost evil in their obvious carnal intent.

To her credit, Marianna didn’t miss a beat. She took hold of the platinum edged cup and proffered the beverage towards him.

Finally, his mouth turned upwards at the corners. “That is not how I want to drink my coffee.” The girl looked at him blankly and stood frozen in an obvious state of panic.

He took pity on her. “Take a sip, but do not swallow. Remember those words. I’ll be using some of them again, later this evening.” Finally, a smile left the contours of his lips. He waited for her to obey.

Raising the cup, she took a tiny sip of the scalding brew and waited. He let her wait. She could cool the damn stuff down, as the girls always made it too hot. He watched as she struggled for a moment with the heat. He could see the slight downturn of her eyelids and the pinched set to her face. The beautiful emerald eyes changed briefly from their transparent crystal sheen to cloudy pools of discomfiture. His need to devour her grew.

“Straddle me.” He swung his chair out from under the confines of his desk and allowed her legs to position themselves over his. Inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume, which was spicy and enticing, he allowed his hands to brush lightly over her hips. She shuddered in response. His hands circled her tiny waist and caressed the soft flesh of her stomach through the thin material of her blouse. He couldn’t wait to unwrap every last morsel of satiny skin and have her laid bare before him, but there was no rush. He let his hands roam, stroking the soft orbs of her backside before running them down the coarse fabric of her tailored skirt. When the material ended, the smooth silkiness of her legs was a beautiful contrast. His hands began to roll her skirt upwards, inch by slow inch. His fingers walked a leisurely path up her naked inner thighs. Would she be wet? Did she want him? He would demand answers to both of his questions shortly.

“Kiss me.”

He watched as she bent down and angled her head. He waited. Plump, full lips pressed against his and he did little more than accept their gentle pressure. If she wanted to get rid of that coffee, she’d need to convince him to open up. If you were asked to play with the boss, you needed to know how to tango. It didn’t take her long to figure the game out. She tilted her head back, keeping the liquid safely inside her mouth and let her tongue trace a warm, wet path around his lips. She circled them from top to bottom with the softest of caresses. Oh, this one was good. Pulling her roughly onto his lap, he sealed his lips over hers and drank from his vessel.

He took his time plundering her mouth. With slow swirls and long snakes of his tongue he revealed his intent and let the battle commence. Threading his fingers through her luxuriously thick curls, he deepened the kiss, and his mouth sucked the very air from her body. She tasted divine; mainly because she was drinking his coffee, but he could taste peppermint, too, and the combination when added to her sweet saliva was intoxicating. Reluctantly, he released her lips.

“We’re going to play a little game, you and I,” he murmured seductively.

“You’re going to feed me every last drop of my coffee, using nothing more than these.” To reiterate his point, he traced an outline of her damp lips with his index finger. Pausing for a second, deep in salacious thought, he took the opportunity to give her a dark look. “If you manage to complete my task without spilling a drop from these luscious ruby-reds, I will allow you the choice of foregoing the punishment I have planned for you, which will be three lashes from my belt.” He watched how her eyelids fluttered downwards and knew she was studying the thick brown leather that encircled his waist. He knew what she was thinking. “Yes, they will hurt.” The delightful shudder of her body caused his cock to pulse and twitch. “Just remember that if you manage to accomplish your task, you have the power to avoid them, but you should also know that if you fail miserably the lashes will be doubled and you will beg for each and every one,” he paused again and bent down to whisper in her ear, “and believe me when I tell you they will lacerate both body and mind.” He tipped her chin back with his fingers to admire both the apprehension and lust that were reflected in her large, expressive eyes. She didn’t appear unduly concerned. Ah, so she thought this game was going to be easy. Was this one going to make a grave error and underestimate his tactics? The sexual tension in the room rippled upon an invisible thread and he could smell her arousal, which was pouring off her body with a pleasant and yet powerful aroma. It suffused his office in a matter of seconds and was far more potent than any aphrodisiac he had ever tasted.

She took her time, giving her lips a sly lick as she was fully aware he had his eyes on them, but when she made to take the cup and saucer in her hand, he had the last laugh.

“I distinctly remember saying you will feed me using nothing more than your lips, my dear. I believe those are your hands, are they not?” The black look he gave her would have destroyed a lesser mortal.

When the mesmerising eyes connected with hers, Marianna found that her breath was imprisoned in her throat, too scared to divulge its presence. The cup and saucer rattled dangerously in her hands, the coffee sloshed from side to side in the inadequate confines of its creamy-white porcelain container and her grip faltered. Spraying a moving arc of steaming brown liquid, the cup sailed through the air.

 

SWEET DREAMS ARE NOT MADE OF THESE

 

Jenny was once again down on all fours, of her own free will for a change, and she was having a stand-off with a herd of pony-girls who looked like sex-starved, rabid dogs. The odds were decidedly stacked against her. The creatures were practically dribbling with excitement.

There were several dilemmas to be considered, from her perspective. One, she would quite like to let them have their way with her and get a jolly good tonguing, because her body fairly thrummed with excitement. Two, she would be rescued tomorrow, so the stupid threats could probably be ignored. Three, trying to escape these beasts in pony hoof-boots was going to be nigh on impossible. The only trouble was viewpoint four. Number four was murmuring in her ear: but you don’t do girls, do you? The thing was, unless she tried a girl, or perhaps several, how would she know if they were any good? They might be a damn site better than their gender opposites when push came to shove. It could prove to be interesting research. She needn’t have wasted her grey matter, though, because in the end, all her dilemmas mattered for naught.

Four naked pony-girls took it upon themselves to pin her down and then promptly sat on her. One positioned herself on her chest, another her waist, and the last two took a thigh each. The air in her lungs whooshed out in a painful gasp. Who needed restraints?

“My name’s Creamy Dream,” said the naked pony on her chest, “but you can call me CD. Who might you be?”

“I didn’t think we were supposed to talk?” Jenny wheezed out the sentence, finding conversation was somewhat painful when you had a good-sized backside pressing all of its weight into your intestines.

“Oh, as long as we keep the volume down, we can pretty much say what we like in here. Of course, it’s a different matter when the grooms get here tomorrow morning. The good news is that there are quite a few hours between now and tomorrow morning and we get bored with the same old, same old. So, what’s your name?”

“Jenny,” she croaked.

“Henny? That’s an interesting name for a pony. Much better suited to poultry, I’d think,” mused CD.

Jenny didn’t have the strength or the necessary volume of air in her lungs, to argue the mistake.

“Does she have a golden egg?” This came from the pony on her left thigh, whose twin, rather hard buttocks were overlapping each side of her leg.

“Henny certainly would be rather more an appropriate name if she did,” replied CD.

“That was a goose, silly,” said right thigh, rolling her eyes.

“I’d always thought it was a hen.”

“When was the last time we saw an egg?” asked the red-headed pony on her chest, anxious for the conversation to turn the corner.

“A very, very long time ago,” said CD and I’m sure Henny won’t have one.

“I’ll volunteer to go check,” drawled a blond-haired pony, who was sitting in the corner and chewing on a blade of straw in a rather bored fashion. She slowly meandered forward on her hands and knees. Even though she was completely devoid of make-up, she was clearly beautiful, with flawless skin and elegant cheekbones that would make even Katharine Hepburn’s pale in comparison.

Jenny paid no attention to her. Now that her eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark interior, she was sizing-up her surroundings. The stable block was divided into several smaller stalls at the rear, perhaps twelve in total, and each featured a heavy wooden door. All the doors were currently closed. Even though the doors were thick and well-built, muffled sounds could be heard filtering through them, some of which were pleasure and others which were not. The floor was made up of tightly compacted earth and strewn with a generous few inches of hay in all directions. There were several stone troughs, similar to the ones she had fed and drank from earlier, and these were positioned against a brick wall to the right. The left wall displayed an array of restraints, such as handcuffs, metal hoops and ropes, which were embedded into the red blocks with large steel screws. That wasn’t all her eyes had managed to spot. Two naked pony girls had been strung up in the ample restraints by their necks, legs, thighs and arms. One had been gagged and blindfolded, and the other had her face dressed in a glossy black hood, with nothing more than two little holes under her nostrils to breathe through. Whilst the gagged one struggled weakly in her bonds, the other had fallen limp in hers, obviously asleep, from the gentle swell of her chest at regular intervals.

Meanwhile, the blonde had made good progress, nearing the V of Jenny’s open legs and seeing where the newbie’s eyes were headed, she smiled. “That’s one of the better punishments, Henny,” she drawled. “You wait till you see what’s inside those stalls behind you. They get progressively worse the further you move down the line, which in turn means the less sleep you’re likely to achieve in them.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now I’m just going to nestle myself between your legs, darlin, so make yourself comfortable.”

The woman was as good as her word. Her shiny, satin tresses tickled Jenny’s thighs as she dipped her head towards the freshly shaven mound. Oh, her hair! She had forgotten all about the massacred mess on top of her head but it was impossible to stay miserable for long. When Beauty inhaled, deeply, at the apex of her legs, she found herself quivering. She had no idea whether this was going to be pleasure or torture and if was going to be pleasure, mightn’t that be a torture all in itself?

“So soft, smooth and pretty,” Beauty crooned, letting her tongue dip towards the naked, pale pink and fleshy lips of her pussy. Her tongue fluttered in gentle butterfly kisses, tracing the silken line of Jenny’s labia and savouring the heady aroma of lavender and musk. She then traced a pretty line around the flower plug embedded in Jenny’s butt and used her teeth to pull it slowly in and out, several times over. Ponies rarely had any scent other than that of mud, muck or sweat to savour so this was a special treat for her. Overwhelmed by the sweet smell, the blonde opened her mouth wide and suckled at the source of the fragrant nectar.

“Beauty, stop being greedy. We all want a go. Has she got an egg or not?” CD sounded rather ticked off.

Right thigh groaned. “She won’t have an egg. It’s been years since someone around here had an egg. Is it my turn to have a suck yet?”

Beauty sighed. She disengaged her mouth from its succulent resting place and let her red tongue poke out prettily. It was the longest tongue in the stables and she had gained an impressive reputation with its use. Gently parting the folds of Jenny’s pussy and delving around the other edges quickly confirmed what CD was so anxious to know.

Pulling away reluctantly, not unlike a cat which had just slurped at a bowl of cream, Beauty licked her lips in satisfaction and whispered, “She’s got an egg.”

The only person in the room not to take a quick indrawn breath was Jenny and the reason for that was twofold; firstly she had no idea what they were on about and secondly, it was a near impossible feat with two people sitting on your torso.

“Oh, well, that changes things,” said CD, somewhat obliquely.

Jenny was no longer listening to a word that was being said. Air was becoming a very important commodity. “Can’t breathe,” she rasped.

“You’ll get used to that,” said CD, blithely unconcerned. “Just you wait until you’re corseted tomorrow. Your stomach will feel like someone’s wrapped a live anaconda around it.”

“Speaking of snakes,” said left thigh, “did you know that a snake has to digest its prey really quickly, because if it starts to rot they have to regurgitate it or the resulting bacteria will cause food poisoning?”

“Our thanks to Miss Zoology in the left-hand corner,” said CD with her best forced smile. “Let’s move swiftly on, shall we?”

“Can I assume that because of her egg, we won’t be going down the traditional initiation route?” Beauty was using her lithe tongue to lap every last trace of Jenny’s sweetness from her lips.

“Henny, can you remember exactly what the ponies said to you, in regards to your egg?” CD began chewing her nails thoughtfully.

Lucky her, thought Jenny, whose hands were sweating uncomfortably, bundled up in the tight leather mittens she had been forced to wear. “Um, MG,” Jenny had to pause to suck in air, “said something about,” another pause and another strangled breath, “no unauthorised… orgasms.” She was beginning to feel light-headed and nauseous. She had no idea whether it was due to lack of circulation, lack of breathable air or the side-effects of the pain killers which had been administered.

“Do you remember what the punishment was for failing?” CD bestowed a severe look upon the trainee, which she hoped would indicate how important the question was.

“No,” replied Jenny, who had her own concerns at the moment, such as trying to remain conscious.

“Damn,” muttered CD and she promptly slithered off Jenny and began to pace, or what counted as pacing for pony-girls, which was, of course, crawling.

Thankfully, the others followed her lead. Jenny’s eyes just about managed to pop back into their sockets and she sucked in several great lungful’s of air.

“Alright, horsies, here’s the plan,” said CD in an authoritative tone, “we probably don’t want to risk a group punishment, so instead of everyone working over the trainee and being rewarded with an orgasm in turn, we’ll have to adjust our procedure slightly.” A collective groan fanned around the room.

“The trainee will be allowed to perform an enthusiastic welcome to each one of us by demonstrating her oral skills. It’s in our interests to make sure she perfects them as soon as possible. Each pony will then be allowed a few laps at the trainee, wherever they might take her fancy, but we must be careful to ensure that she does not climax.”

What, what, what? If Jenny had just heard that correctly, there were intending to turn her into a lesbian and then torture her with the newfound knowledge. She squirmed on the prickly hay and managed, with some concentrated effort, to flip herself over and resume her crawling stance.

“Um, ladies, I don’t do… that.” Jenny waved a mittened paw in the air for emphasis. More ponies were joining the fray now, ones who had been previously snuggled down for the night, judging by the bits of straw that poked out of their hair in scarecrow fashion. There were a few sniggers, some sideways glances and the odd whinney of amusement.

“You do, now,” said Beauty, and she sat up, crossed her arms over her generously proportioned breasts and parted her thighs in invitation. “I’ve had my three laps, so I guess I’ll go first,” she purred.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” said Jenny, backing away as fast as her tight and rubbery pony-boots would allow. “I’m going to be rescued tomorrow.”

There was a long pause before the stable erupted in riotous laughter. Some of the ponies were laughing so hard, they had to sit down and wipe tears from their eyes.

“Sit on her, Beauty, and we’ll hold her down for you,” said CD, rolling her eyes. She looked rather disgusted with the protégé that appeared to have landed into her care.

Jenny found herself tumbled once again, which wasn’t really hard considering she didn’t have proper use of either her legs or arms and the same ponies sat in their respective corners. This time however, there was yet another obstacle to overcome. Beauty was lowering her… bits… slowly down towards her face. When her knees pressed tightly against either side of her head, making sure she couldn’t move an inch, she pressed the slippery folds of her pussy directly on top of Jenny’s mouth.

“You don’t get to breathe until you do the business,” said CD ominously, who was once again sitting atop Jenny’s chest.

Jenny didn’t realise, until quite some time later, that it hadn’t been an idle threat.

 

DISASTER AVERTED

 

He caught the cup neatly in one hand and by following the direction of the moving liquid, managed to contain the imminent disaster which threatened. A few drops of coffee sailed over the rim of the cup and sloshed around in the saucer. No matter, he’d make sure they were not wasted. Setting the cup back on his desk and returning his attention to the employee before him, he studied her expression. Marianna’s face was a picture: Edvard Munch’s ‘Scream’ to be exact. Her jaw was slack in horror, her eyes were so wide her eyelids had almost lost themselves in the back of her head and her hands flailed around madly. She began stammering.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Mmm…atthews. I mean, Sss..sir.”

Mark sat back in his seat and had to work hard at keeping his grin in check. This was priceless. She had just delivered her pretty little backside on a platter for his delectation. How adorable this one was. Why had he not used her before? It took a few moments to compose himself before he could locate the stern tone that was needed with which to chastise her.

“You’ve made not one, but two grave mistakes within seconds, my dear. What shall I do with you?” He let the open question settle in the silence of the office. As expected, she made no response. She did manage to sink to her knees once more and resume her stance of supplication, which was, he conceded, an apology of sorts.

“To make amends, Marianna, you will roll up your skirt and place your backside over my desk, so that I may do whatever I wish with it. You will then lap up the contents of this saucer, as I hate to waste good coffee. After you have accomplished both feats, you will return to the kitchen to fetch me another cup of coffee and we will begin again. I trust you will be more careful if given a second chance?” Though she couldn’t see the dark look he directed at her, he knew that his words had affected her by the way her fingers tightened into claws around her elbows, which were once again placed behind her back.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” she whispered. Getting to her feet, somewhat unsteadily, she kept her eyes downcast as she approached his desk. It was a pity, as he would have quite liked to have seen the expression of apprehension, or perhaps even fear that might have lingered there.

“Well, get on with it,” and he pushed back the castors of his chair to allow her to pass in front of him. His impatient tone was not lost on her. Practically flinging her body over his desk, he watched her shaking hands as they reached down to grip the hem of her skirt. As they slowly rolled the fabric upwards, he realised that the pace of her fingers was not purposefully tantalising because she fumbled more than once at her task.

“Are you nervous?” Her hands faltered yet again, but quickly resumed the act of displaying the beginnings of a very pert set of buttocks.

“Yes,” her voice was throaty. She appeared to take control of herself and began rolling the material back with renewed purpose.

“Your tanned flesh is beautiful. I’m going to enjoy taking that backside later. When was the last time you indulged in anal sex, Marianna?” He was being mean and he knew it, but watching her squirm uncomfortably on the desk, he wanted to know if he aroused her.

“When I was under the instruction of James Entwell, Sir, about two years ago.”

Good Lord, had she been in his office that long? He wondered who had had the pleasure of using her. Without realising it, he found he’d asked the question out loud, because the next thing he knew she was answering it.

“No-one Sir, since my induction about eighteen months ago.”

“You mean to tell me that you have had no penetrative sex in eighteen months?” Mark’s voice was somewhat incredulous and he shook his head in amazement. Surely that little snippet of information couldn’t be true. Distracted for a moment, he watched as the uppermost curve of her ass was gradually revealed and already his cock was pulsing behind his trousers. He suspected that Marianna’s body would have to be fucked several times and in many different ways for it to be sated. If she’d really gone eighteen months without sex, he’d have to go gentle, dammit.

“Does a vibrator count, Sir?”

Mark slammed his head against the backrest of his chair. She was serious. He knew full well that she’d had no partners, because he paid for the security which guarded the apartment block which housed all of his submissives and they were not allowed callers of any kind except for family members. When they were out and about, they were watched and any fraternisation of a sexual nature would guarantee instant dismissal. The idea was to keep them hot and horny at all times, but the thought that not one of the dignitaries, clients or visitors that were allowed the use of his staff had picked her, made him somewhat perplexed. She was a beautiful woman, so why had no-one required her services before now?

“No, it does not.” He closed his eyes and rubbed them with the tips of his fingertips. Fine, he’d go gentle, but she was still getting a taste of his belt. He’d been looking forward to that part.

The skirt moved higher and higher. The further the skirt peeled back, the harder it became to breathe. He noticed the disobedient woman was wearing panties, which she’d pay for later, and the only thing it did was fan the flames.

“Were you aware that I require my submissives to forgo their underwear at all times when in the confines of my office?” He generally let them get away with wearing a bra, especially if they had a generous-sized cleavage, but there were zero exceptions to the ‘no panties’ rule.

“Yes.”

At least she was honest. Now that her fingertips had stopped moving, he admired the whole expanse of her tanned backside and noted that she either sunbathed ‘au natural’ or used one of the tanning tubes in the beauty salon that all his ‘ladies’ had an account with.

He stood up and bent his large frame over hers. “Place your hands beside your head.” His long arms, still encased in his suit jacket, helped guide them into place. “And what made you think you could flaunt my rules?” He bent down to whisper the sentence in her ear and noted that her body trembled. For the second time, he wondered if she would be wet for him. He would soon find out.

Marianna made an audible gulp before she answered his question. He noted, with some amusement, the two bright spots of colour that had just bloomed upon her cheeks. It took a moment for her to reply. “After a year of not being called upon, I figured no-one would mind too much if I wore panties.”

It was a reasonable answer, but it didn’t excuse her behaviour in the least. “Do I, or do I not pay an awful lot of money to have you at my beck and call, Marianna?”

“Yes, Sir, you do.” Marianna’s bank account had a ridiculous sum in it to testify to the fact.

“I have very few rules in this office. I wonder if a disobedient little slut such as yourself, would be able to remember them all?”

She remained silent, but then, he hadn’t expected anything else. Placing a palm underneath her body, just below her left breast, he smiled when he felt for her heartbeat. It was easy enough to detect, the thing was trying to make a break for it. “Calm down, Marianna. I’m not an ogre.” His fingers caressed each little bump of her rib cage and he smiled when her heart appeared to pound harder. So, at least she found him attractive. “What were those rules again, my dear?” His voice was that of a master seducer’s and dripped with hunger.

“Sir. All submissives are required to be clean shaven, wear no panties and not indulge in any sexual activities unless prior permission from yourself or staff has been given, Sir.”

“Where did you obtain permission for the use of your vibrator?” Mark was curious. He’d never spoken to the girl on any matter remotely sexual. She would be aware that if she was caught in her rooms bringing herself to orgasm she would be liable for instant dismissal, as per her contract. All of the rooms in each submissives apartment had cameras and although they were not monitored 24/7, it was usually a good enough deterrent for them to behave.

“I asked your secretary, Sir.”

“You asked Cecilia?” This time, his jaw dropped open. Cecilia was his private secretary. She was approaching her sixtieth birthday and had been with him right from the start, over fifteen years ago when he had first dipped his toes into the world of commerce. Whilst she knew about his sexually deviant nature, she chose to distance herself to that side of his dealings and few of his submissives would dare to approach her with anything more than a perfunctory request. Her stern glance and vicious-looking shoulder pads usually kept the girls at arms-length.

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

Marie paused for a second. “She took pity on me because I was a brunette. She did say not to bother her with ‘these type of requests’ too often, though.”

Mark laughed. “I’ll bet she did.” That woman would have some great tales to tell when she retired, had she not signed an NDA, of course. His curiosity had been piqued yet again, though. “How many times did you ask her?”

“Just the once, I couldn’t summon enough courage to ask her again.”

“You mean to tell me, that in the past 18 months, you’ve had precisely one orgasm?” Mark could not believe what he was hearing. She simply nodded in response. “Have you missed sex, Marianna?”

“Oh, yes, Sir.” There was no doubt that her answer was in the affirmative bracket.

“Well, on the plus side, I guess you’ve got a lot of joyful catching up to do.” Spanning a hand across her cheek, ensuring that her head would stay on the table, he entwined a lock of her beautiful chestnut hair on his index finger and then tugged at it sharply. Her eyes became luminous with need. “Do you like pain, Marianna? Would it arouse you to suffer a little, under my hand?”

“Yes Sir. I would like that.” It was a standard response; whether it was true or not remained to be seen.  The girl had been expertly voice trained; her breathy little whisper gave nothing away. He’d see how good she really was, when they tested the theory in a few minutes. If she could school her features under the cruel bite of his belt she’d be a bloody good actress.

“Have you broken any more of my rules, by any chance?” He pressed his lips to the pulse point on her neck and lathed at the area with his tongue. Thud, thud, thud went the traitorous beat.

“No, Sir.”

“Let’s check, shall we?” He stood up and let his right hand trace a leisurely path down the side of her body until he reached her ass. He then let two of his fingers walk down the valley of her backside until the soft peaks denied him further access. He scooped his fingers under the thin, white lace of her panties and pulled roughly. The flimsy elastic didn’t stand a chance. Ripping the offensive material away from her body and discarding the remains on the floor, he cupped her sex. When his fingers brushed the smooth expanse of her soft, shaven pussy, she jumped up like she’d been shot. She was wet alright. Letting his fingers arch into the fluid heat of her body, his efforts were rewarded when he felt a trickle of liquid slide down his finger. She was aroused, ripe and oh-so ready for him. He curved both his middle and index finger into a crook shape and began to torment her clit. Marianna was certainly due an orgasm, but seeing as how she hadn’t had one in months, a few more minutes here and there probably wouldn’t hurt. He stopped fingering her and laughed at the little petulant moan she gave him.

“Kneel before me.” Her body slithered down the table and she was on her hands and knees quickly. He expected the woman thought she was down there for a blow job. She was in for a shock. “Remove my belt, Marianna, using nothing more than your teeth and then beg to feel its vengeance.” Yes, there was the delightful gaze of disbelief in her eyes. He had been right.

A few minutes later, when her teeth were still working to free the tight leather, he wished he had asked to have been blown. Having her hot breath torment the sensitive skin of his cock was a torture all of its own. If he ended up staining his suit, it would serve him right.

When she finally freed his belt, it was not a moment too soon. The image of her grasping the leather between her teeth, with its tails poking out of each side of her mouth would stay with him for some time to come.

“Back over the table, Marianna, and start begging.”

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Many thanks to everyone for reading this far 🙂  When I have news on the release date, I’ll update you. Until then, have a fabulous weekend !!!

8 thoughts on “Preview of NAMED AND SHAMED – #Ponygirl romp #BDSM

  1. Excellence. I’m looking forward to the release date. I’ll be the first in line. I would love for you to keep me updated, if it’s not too much trouble. If so, I’ll just keep checkin’ back. Love.

  2. Pingback: How Do You Like Your #Hero? | Christina Mandara

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