Don't Be Shy 12

Kara bit her lip. She found herself hoping that Lena did have a camera on her; that her mistress could fully enjoy the show she was about to put on. It made her feel sexy. She was being lusted after—not only that, but what she did, her little performance… Lena was so worldly, so masterful, so… exquisite. And Kara was making her hot.

It turned her on too. She was actually a temptress. And a, well, a whore… but Lena had wanted to be seduced and she was seducing her. Kara had always liked doing a good job, being good at things, getting things right. This was like a supremely potent version of that. Maybe she wasn’t her best self, but she was her hottest self. And who better to judge that than a woman with standards as high as Lena Luthor? As gorgeous as Lena Luthor?

She reached her hand up into the air and brought it down heavily. A loud crack split the air. Pain spiked into her ass, but settled quickly into a burning soreness. She’d really spanked herself—she’d done it again—all for Lena.

“How does your ass feel now?” Lena asked solicitously.

“It hurts but, not too bad. It feels… pink, you know? A deeper shade of pink.” Kara then added, with a hint of pleading in her voice: “I can take more.”

“Then keep going. I want to see if you can turn your own ass red for me.”

Chewing her lower lip now, Kara reached up into the air and swung her hand down quickly, before she could think better of it. As soon as her palm impacted her pinkening ass, she had it up again and coming back down.

Her cheeks jiggled, reverberating with each blow before they fluttered to a stop. She felt her own vividly reddened skin like hot coals that had become part of her flesh. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she was smiling, almost giggling at the thought of how she had Lena’s complete attention.

She could hear the other woman breathing hard over the phone lines, even muttering “yes, yes” under her breath like she couldn’t want one damned thing more from Kara than what she was doing.

Kara didn’t like the pain, exactly, but it was the only connection she had to this level of sexual intensity. Even as it hurt worse, like she was imparting bruise on top of bruise to her poor little ass, she didn’t want it to stop. She was taking this ordeal like a total bitch, but that was exactly how Lena had treated her the first time they met. When Lena praised her, it was for what a good bitch she was. But that didn’t make the slightest difference to Kara whatsoever.

“Enough!” Lena barked, so loud it startled Kara out of the autoerotic haze she’d been in. “You’re on your way to getting off on the pain, aren’t you? And I want to be the one to make you that way. Oh yes, Kara, you may have thought you weren’t holding back, but you were. I’m going to use my hand to teach you what pain really is. Then a hairbrush. Then a belt. A riding crop. I have so many ways to punish you and you’re such a good girl; how am I going to get you to misbehave? Maybe I should make it a rule that you can’t come without permission. You’d have trouble following that rule, wouldn’t you? I think you’d come within a minute of the first time I touched you, just like the last time.”

In the absence of pain—or at least the slight dulling of it, since her butt hurt even without impact after impact slashing fresh sensation into amped up nerves—a deep, guttural throb took over her body. It pounded at her loins like the beat of a subwoofer, insensate but keenly felt. Thump, thump, thump.

All of her body seemed to go into yearning. Kara felt like pure need. It wasn’t sensation she craved, it was Lena’s voice, more of her harsh and lovely words. Lena was correcting her, she knew, but this discipline felt like more attention than she’d ever gotten before. More intense and more focused than if she were performing to a sold-out Madison Square Garden.

She couldn’t speak; her voice couldn’t get past this addiction she had to feed: “I… I…”

“On your back. Legs up in the air, cheerleader. You can satisfy yourself if you want to, but you’re only allowed to use your fingers.”

How did she know I was a cheerleader? Kara did as she was told, her legs making a wide vee in the air while she reached down between them. God, her cunt was hot. It almost felt like it wasn’t hers—hers wasn’t supposed to be this wet, this warm, this… responsive. But it was. Maybe because it belonged to Lena now.

Ridiculous thought, but her entire body trembled. Her lightest touch sent earthquakes through all of her. Out to shake her fingers. Inward, to the very center of Kara—far below the glossy pink flesh she showed, spreading the swollen lips of her pussy, exposing herself to an empty room that was filled with Lena.

“I’m really wet,” she announced. “It doesn’t feel like when I’ve touched myself before… it almost hurts… I have to be careful… I’m just going to use one finger, Lena, Mistress Lena…”

Her pert breasts rose and fell liquidly, quickening with her ever more uneven breathing. She could feel how hard her nipples were now, lancing out like they were trying to grow even larger, so sensitive she could feel them rubbing against the air. Massaged by the motion of her heaving breasts and her own throbbing excitement.

“You looking at the ceiling?” Lena huffed out.

“Yes.”

“Boring girl. Look at the dildo, on the nightstand. I’m going to be using that on you, cheerleader, the next time you’re this wet. I don’t care if one finger is enough. I’m going to fuck you with all of it, you slut, you little bitch, I’ll make you squirt again. Dirty whores like you have to squirt when I’m fucking them. Say it!”

Kara’s eyes were shut. The tip of her tongue plucked at the corner of her mouth. She was lost in pleasure, but every time she touched herself, her body shuddered and her expression intensified, showing how much she needed the orgasm she was racing towards.

“I’m a dirty bitch,” Kara moaned. “I’ll be so good for you to fuck, mistress, I’ll be the perfect fuck.”

Her single fingertip pushed into the riot of her cunt. Kara couldn’t stand it. She took it away, worked it back in. Her body held no firmness, no solidity. It was pure tremors as she went back in, all the way, taking all she could of this maddened pleasure and knowing that Lena would make her take more, if she was only there.

“Touch your clit with your other hand,” Lena ordered. “You stupid girl, don’t you dare let that clit go unattended. I might want your clit played with while I’m fucking you; do you expect me to do it? Do you?”

She used her other hand. Her fingers quivered, but she rubbed with her palm at the pink, balled up passion that almost hurt to touch, but was too good not to—like sipping freshly heated hot chocolate before it had a chance to cool.

“No, mistress,” Kara sobbed, thinking that she would usually settle just for how sweet it felt to finger herself, that only Lena could have her caressing the glistening sensitivity at the top of her cunt—the exquisite terror of how much there was to feel, “no, no…”

Her breaths pumped out of her, more like some strenuous exercise than a natural rhythm of life. Her skin was all sweat. Her legs slipped downward; she couldn’t keep them up in the air with her finger so deep inside her, touching a bottomless expanse of pleasure she’d never known was there.

“Legs up! Do not let them come down!” Then Lena’s hard voice abruptly turned soft. “Your legs look so pretty up in the air. Why wouldn’t you want to show them to me like that? Don’t you like that I’m enjoying your pretty legs so much?”

It was textbook sadomasochism; even Kara knew that. Lightly paddle your playmate’s ass to lure them into a false sense of security, then really batter them. It would hurt worse with that contrast—five soft blows and five hard ones. Hurt worse than five hard blows. Hurt worse than ten hard blows, really. Her crazed mind flew back to when she was thirteen, when she’d played too loud, waking her father from his afternoon nap, and—

Suddenly Kara’s body was broken down. It’d been a well-oiled machine, in high gear, going exactly where Lena wanted it to go, but now that symphony of parts all working together were grinding into a wreck, shearing into each other like they were all being crushed together by a junkyard compactor.

She rolled off the bed, fled for the bathroom, bumping into the nightstand on her clawing, panting flight for the door. She heard the dildo roll off and hit the floor, heard the cell phone land on the carpet and dutifully throw out Lena’s tinny voice.

“Kara, are you alright? What’s happened? Answer me, Kara.”