Twenty-five

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We had some fun – some innocent fun with sexy panties, sexy stockings, nipple charms and a camera. Apparently I had a begging look in my eyes. it has been some time…

Somewhere during the ‘photo-shoot’ He told me that I would wear my collar before we would go to sleep. I expected to wear my collar (and as per my standing orders, my high heels), be fucked and then go to sleep. We were both tired.

How wrong I was…

I put my shoes on and stood in front of Him so he could put my collar around my neck. Before He did, He admired my tits, pinched my nipples and cupped them with his hands. I turned around and held my hair up. He put the collar around my neck. While we were busy with making photos, He had his finger in me a couple of times and yes, I had a couple of orgasms. I was horny. And I wanted more. His finger found my clitoris and brought me to another orgasm.

“Bent over, hold onto the bed,” He said.
I looked at Him in surprise. This was not what I was expecting. This was not what I wanted either. I was tired and I just wanted an orgasm and then go to bed.
“Bent over,” He said.
I did. He put his foot between my feet and pushed my feet aside. I spread my legs, but He was not happy until they were spread to almost the same width of the bed.

“I want you to count back from 25. After each five blows, you will finger yourself and bring yourself to orgasm,” He ordered.
The harshness of the blows surprised me. By the fifth blow I was afraid I might not handle it anymore. I moaned, but my hand found my clitoris and my orgasm came quickly.
“Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Sixteen. Fifteen,” I counted, moaning in between. My ass was on fire. My hand was on my clitoris again. I hoped that my orgasm would stay away for a while so my ass could feel a bit better, but it did not. Too soon the flogging started again.

I have no idea how long it took before I started to cry. I moaned. It sounded like I was crying, it felt as if I was crying, but there were no tears. I think there was about five lashes left when I crouched and begged him to stop. He commanded me to stand up. I do remember that I was crying then. Sobbing. My hand found my clitoris and this time I really had to do my best to get to a climax. A small climax. Even though my ass was on fire and I was thinking about a safe word for it all to stop, I was disappointed at how small my orgasm was.
“Are you sure you climaxed?” He asked and I knew He had seen it too.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you did not fake it?”
“No!”
“Faking will make me start back at 25 again,” He promised.
“I did not fake it,” I said in a begging voice. I just wanted it to be over.

Too soon the flogging started again. The last five lashes seemed even harder than the first 20, but it might have been because my ass was hurting a lot already. I imagined Him standing right behind me and flogging me in the same way a coachman will use a whip on the horses in front of a horse cart. This image did not last long, as my attention was fully drawn back to my burning ass. Tears streamed down my face. I had to bring myself to another orgasm after the flogging was done.

He turned me around and held me. Held me tight. Wiped my tears. He told me to go to bed. I took my shoes off. He took my collar off. And He held me again.
“You did not expect that, did you?”
“No, I did not,” I said through my tears.
“What did you expect?”
I told him that I only expected a good fucking, not a flogging.
“And again, I suppose, you realize that you should always be prepared that something you are not expecting, will happen,” He said and I only nodded.
My ass was still burning and I could feel the welts that the flogger left on it.

His hand found my wet pussy. A good fucking followed…

© Rebel’s Notes