Archive-name: Bondage/emilhous.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Emily's House


        My  initial  introduction  to  severe  spanking  and   domination 
        happened at the hands of a guy named Ted, whom I met through  one 
        of the BBSs to which I belong.  Ted is a bright, educated guy, an 
        engineer by trade, and a dominant by choice.  We had corresponded 
        on  that  board for a long time before he finally came  to  town.  
        When  he  announced that he would be here, I could  think  of  no 
        excuse  at all to refuse meeting him.  That the session ended  up 
        with me nude, face down but raised up over the end of the  couch, 
        my  naked  bottom turned towards the ceiling,  my  ankles  pulled 
        apart  and tied to each leg of the couch-- in a perfect  position 
        to be instructed, that is what I expected in advance.  In fact, I 
        had made him promise that when he got me that he would absolutely 
        not let me talk him out of giving me a spanking.  I certainly did 
        not have to worry about that, as it turned out.
        
        He took a long time admiring the view, probed here and there with 
        his fingers, then found an erect nipple and pinched and  pinched, 
        until he made me tell him where the strop was.  It was hanging on 
        a  hook on the inside of the door (you hear that, Ken?   Remember 
        it for future reference.  You may well want to use it  yourself.)  
        He  took  the  strop,  gave it a  few  trial  swings,  and  then, 
        TTTHHHWWSWWACK!!!! A murderous, burning swipe across both  cheeks 
        of my rump... this followed after a long interval by another, and 
        another.   He quickly had me crying for mercy,  for  forgiveness.  
        Did I get mercy?  No.  I got a hot oil injection, firmly squirted 
        into  my anus by a large, thick, rigid cock.  And  afterwards  I 
        was given the privelege to suck it clean.
        
        Comparing  that  session  to the one I had at  Emily"s  house  is 
        difficult  for me, because in a way they were so different.   The 
        first one, described above, I always felt in control even  though 
        my  hands were fastened behind me.  Any time I really wanted  him 
        to  stop,  I think he would have.  At Emily's,  she  (Emily)  was 
        fully  in  control,  and  being  another  woman,  had  a   better 
        understanding  of what I could take, and resolved, I am sure,  to 
        take me all the way there, and beyond.  Now she did not wield the crop ,  Doris  did.   But  she was in charge  of  the  event,  the 
        mistress of ceremonies, so to speak- have no doubt about that. 
        
        When  I was invited (or ordered, if you prefer) there for  a  hen 
        party and a dinner, I had no idea what was going to happen.  Lets 
        face  it, she and I were no longer  social friends, but I was  in 
        no position to refuse, so I duly showed up, suitably dressed  for 
        a  social dinner with 8 or 9 women present.  Early on, there  was 
        no  obvious  sign  that this was going to  be  different  from  a 
        thousand similar parties we both have been to.  An elegant dinner 
        was offered, beautifully prepared and served.  Oh yes, Emily does 
        do  things correctly, even to the Nth degree.   The  conversation 
        was  lively  and intelligent, ranging wide  over  every  possible 
        subject.   Later  on,  however,  the  tone  of  the  conversation 
        changed,  and  Emily  announced in words  that  I  cannot  really 
        remember  that this was a special occasion- that present was  the 
        person who had helped break up her marriage, etc, etc.  Everybody 
        chimed in at that point, and however it worked  conversationally, 
        I  ended  up nude ,with my wrists behind me, tied.  Doris  had  a 
        metal  clip that winds through the hair and locks, and to  it,  a 
        long cord attached that she tossed over a ceiling beam.  There  I 
        stood,  totally  helpless, now very fearful  of  this  particular 
        event.   I did not feel that I had any control at all  over  what 
        would happen, and considering that Emily was still very angry  at 
        me,  I foresaw real problems, and did not have the  feeling  that 
        the other ladies present were going to be supportive in the least 
        measure.  It's almost funny- Hilde told me later that  Emily  had 
        told   the   others  that  there  was  going   to   be   "special 
        entertainment" that evening- she had not told me that, but  maybe 
        that  was  because I was going to be the  special  entertainment.  
        Who  knows what the others were expecting- I am sure that  nobody 
        else knew, but I have an idea that Hilde, who really knows  Emily 
        the best, had a pretty good idea.  What Doris knew in advance  is 
        hard to say.  That one never says much anyway.
         
        Doris  did  her  particular  specialty  after  blindfolding  me-- 
        gentle, stimulating caresses of the nipples, guaranteed to arouse 
        one  and  erect  those  nipples  no  matter  how  frightened  and 
        apprehensive you might be.  And when they were suitably erect,  a 
        final  pinch, and then those metal spring clips  attached,  first 
        one  and then the other.  And soon enough, her  searching  finger 
        between my legs, probes, finds moisture, finds an erecting  clit, 
        massages  it  so  that it is standing  fully  at  attention,  and 
        another  clip attached to it-- all three together now applying  a 
        kind of hideous metallic caress that never stops.
        
        Try  to understand- I was totally embarrassed,  absolutely  under 
        Emily's  control,  and terrified, and at the same  time,  excited 
        almost  beyond  belief,  perhaps sexier than I  have  ever  been, 
        before or since.  I now knew what to expect- I was going to get a 
        total thrashing, specifically for the entertainment of the ladies 
        present  (who  had been selected, I am sure for  their  potential 
        enjoyment  of that kind of thing).  In the meantime, I have  been 
        incredibly  aroused,  and clips attached to  my  most  vulnerable 
        points.   My nipples are up as hard as steel, and gripped in  the 
        unyielding clasp of the clips, and my clit also has been  aroused 
        and  clipped.  I am almost expecting that Emily will  have  Doris 
        insert  one of those special suppositories in my anus-  the  kind 
        that  makes you think you have a hot iron up there- like she  had 
        done  to me before.  No, not this time, though I do not know  why 
        not,  and obviously I do not ask.  And finally, I  am  incredibly 
        aroused- almost at the point of orgasm- but I do not want to have 
        that orgasm.  No, not this way, in front of this audience  (which 
        obviously was very interested, and would have applauded wildly). 
        
        Now  Emily is seated comfortably, and asks me for my  version  of 
        the relationship with her ex.  I tell her the truth- that we  had 
        been  together at a Christmas party, and he kissed me  under  the 
        mistletoe,  but  nothing more- that day. " What  about  the  next 
        day", she inquires, and I confess that we had done some  juvenile 
        
        petting, with him maybe kissing my titties, and sliding his  hand 
        up  under my skirt-- hardly enough for all this to-do right  now.  
        She  gives the sign to Doris, and the crop flashes,  whacking  me 
        severely across the rump, making me gasp, and making some  unseen 
        female  titter.   I  dance, I shake, but I have  nowhere  to  go.  
        Again  she asks, and I confess that later I had let him  take  my 
        panties down.  That day he gave my pussy a sweet kiss.  At that I 
        get a sweet kiss, too- by the crop , again across the rump.  I  am 
        really  fearful  now, and crying, begging to be let  go.   Nobody 
        will have any of that, and I get another slash with the crop for 
        even asking.  Emily is leading the confessional now- she wants to 
        know what happened next- of course, she already knows, that  that 
        same day I had taken his cock into my mouth, but nothing more.  I
        admit  that,  get  another shot with the crop for it,  and  I  am 
        screaming, practically hysterical now, because I do not know  how 
        much farther this is going to go.  I also do not know that  there 
        is  a video camera set up, and I am going to be the star  of  the 
        film  that is being taken this very minute.  Emily wants to  know 
        about his fucking me, and I swear that it never happened.  Nobody 
        believes me now, and the punishment continues, worse than I  ever 
        got before.  My confession is extracted from me, and by now after 
        a dozen or more stokes of that crop , I will confess to  anything, 
        and confess I do to seducing him every which way, to fucking  for 
        him  vaginally, orally, anally, you name it- she asked me  and  I 
        confessed  to it. Almost as an after thought, she had me  confess 
        to putting her down in her husband's eye, to claim that she was a 
        sexless  thing  and that real joy could only be had from  a  real 
        woman (obviously like me).  The ladies thought that this was  the 
        ultimate  insult-  this whore badmouthing Emily to him,  a  good, 
        innocent  wife.   Innocent, hah!!!).  Somebody suggests  that  my 
        mouth be washed out with soap for that- and it is duly done, with 
        a  strong laundry soap.  Doris fetched a bar, a large  chunk  was 
        broken  off  and  stuffed in my mouth for  fun.   Not  much  fun, 
        believe me.
        
        Now  think about Doris a moment- an attractive black lady,  about 
        35-no  education  whatever.  Will she be  interested  in  playing 
        executioner today?  Of course.  Perhaps it is a racial thing,  or 
        perhaps  the result of unintended slights towards her on my  part 
        in  the  past which she has misinterpreted on a  personal  basis.  
        Whichever,  she would be delighted to give this  delicious  honky 
        bitch a spanking.  Is it in the culture?  I have heard that  give 
        a black woman the chance to work over a blonde whore-  especially 
        one who has been fucking around with black men, and the thrashing 
        will  be  earth shaking. She has worked for Emily  for  years  as 
        house  maid, perhaps confidant, and if it turns out that  Charles 
        had been fucking her on the side, I wouldn't be a bit  surprised.  
        If it is also true that Doris had been servicing Emily in her own
        way-  like  giving her sweet massages and the like-  I  not  only 
        would  not  be surprised but am rather sure that this is  so.   I 
        don't  think that they had a total bi-relationship, but  I  don't 
        know.
        
        Now  understand the cropping.  I am standing, my hair holding  me 
        upright.   Doris  is  an artist with that crop , and  she  has  me 
        bobbing  and  dancing,  kicking,  even  leaping,  and   certainly 
        screaming.  None of it makes a bit of difference- I am not  going 
        anywhere  until  I am released, and that will  certainly  not  be 
        until Emily is satisfied.  And you do know Emily.  She is  little 
        and  she is cute, but she is very strong and determined, and  she 
        WILL  have  her pound of flesh in revenge.  Step onto  her  patch 
        only on her terms.  Go beyond that, invade her privacy, take what 
        is hers at your peril.  This was the lesson being taught me,  and 
        perhaps  being  taught the ladies in the audience.  She  felt  no 
        compunction  about giving a whore a thrashing, and I was-  had  I 
        not already confessed it?
        
        And  when  I got the cropping that day- much more severe  by  the 
        way,  it  was in part because she really did believe that  I  had 
        been fucking her husband (and believes it to this day) and wanted 
        my  full confession.  She got it, true or false.  And when I  had 
        confessed-  which  was absolutely believed by  the  other  ladies 
        present, the consensus was that I was a slut who was getting what 
        she  deserved- a comeuppance that tramps deserve but rarely  get.  
        The fact that Emily had the pictures and I could not let them get 
        out and therefore she owned me- they did not know that.  All they 
        knew was that this whoring slut, who had seduced Emily's  husband 
        plus who-knows-who else, who might be making an unknown play  for 
        the  husband  of  any of the ladies present, she  was  getting  a 
        richly  deserved lesson, written on her ass by a  luscious  black 
        maid.   The  fact that I look the way I do and sometimes  have  a 
        haughty  air did not help.  Take this slut down a peg or  two-you 
        know.  The  ladies watched every stroke approvingly,  and  nobody 
        protested  that the punishment exceeded the crime.   Later,  when 
        either  Emily  or  Doris asked if a  volunteer  might  provide  a 
        chocolate  eclair to be served as a special penance, they had  no 
        problem  at all getting a volunteer to go to the bathroom and  to 
        produce one on one of Emily's fine china plates, to be sure.  And 
        who  fed me that eclair, of course using one of Emily's  sterling 
        silver dessert spoons?  Doris?  Emily? The volunteer?  I  don't 
        know.  You asked how large was that eclair, and I respond that  I 
        don't really know.  I remember it as being sufficiently large  to 
        do  the task intended- to humiliate me totally in front  of  that 
        audience-  who likely would have applauded had it been  twice  as 
        large.  All I know is that it was large enough, that I was fed it 
        all,  and  was in no position to debate the point- nor  the  tall 
        glass  of lemonade which was offered me to wash down  my  special 
        treat.  You might ask if any of the others were shocked at  this.  
        Well,  they  had seen it happen before their eyes, perhaps  as  a 
        logical  extension  of  this  tramp  being  punished  in  Emily's 
        particular way, and who would say that she was wrong?   Certainly 
        none of them would.
        
         All  I  know  is  that I had  received  a  cropping-  a  cruelly 
        efficient   one   given  under  the  most   exotic   and   erotic 
        circumstances  possible,  before a very interested  audience.   I 
        know  that Doris had me bobbing and weaving, crying  and  begging 
        for forgiveness for a crime that  I did not commit, and if  these 
        ladies  in  the  audience had been a jury, I am  sure  that  this 
        sentence given me would have been even more extreme.  If  anybody 
        had  suggested that they put a brand on my bottom, I  am  certain 
        that  the group would have agreed, perhaps unanimously.   And  of 
        course,  adding to the overall flavor of the moment is  that  the 
        whole  thing  was being videotaped, in full, glorious  color  and 
        sound,  for posterity to view.  Crime and Punishment-  or  better 
        yet, Crime, Confession, and Punishment-- how's that for a  title.  
        It  has  a  sort of Russian Ring to it,  doesn't  it?   Something 
        Dostoyevsky might have written.
        
        I  must point out as an afterthought that what terrified me  most 
        during this session, was that one of the women suggest that  they 
        shave  off  my  hair-  both on my head  and  pubic.   This  is  a 
        particular  punishment  that  now and then  whores  have  gotten, 
        especially  in  the  South.  I have no doubt  that  had  it  been 
        suggested  that it might well have happened.  Supposing they  had 
        given  me the choice- stand there as I was, in the clips, not  to 
        be  released  until  I specifically asked  for  THAT  punishment.  
        Sooner or later I would have asked.






        
        Think  of me writing this letter to you.  Right now, I  am  nude, 
        and  after  talking to you, have followed your  instructions.   I 
        have  that large, black rubber dildo inserted in my anus, all  9" 
        of  it.  I have retrieved my nipple clip set.  I have a  clip  on 
        each, very erect nipple, and another one on my clit.  My pussy is 
        creamy.   I am just on the verge of orgasm, and I  am  pretending 
        that you have told me that I would be severely punished if I  let 
        myself cumm.  I am going to disobey deliberately.  I am too close 
        to  cumming  to  hold back, and even if it means  that  I  get  a 
        thrashing,  that I get my bottom basted with a leather strop  for 
        being "bad", that is what I am and that is what I deserve.
        
        I  am trying to convince you to face up to the beginning  of  our 
        meeting-  the need for you to take total control and assume  full 
        authority  for the session.  In order for this to work, it  seems 
        to  me  that  the  preliminary  part  of  the  session  needs  to 
        concentrate on past events- an analysis of past promises made and 
        not  kept,  of recent questions asked where  answered  have  been 
        avoided,  or when answered, with inadequate response.   In  other 
        words, the student's shortcomings need to be enumerated, and some 
        suitable form of instruction be offered.  In this case, it  seems 
        to  me that punishment in some form ABSOLUTELY MUST be the  first 
        part of the program.  If not, all else is doomed to fail.
        
        Considering  this  student, I would suggest that  her  nudity  is 
        essential  to the proceedings.  In fact, I can visualize it.   You 
        have  ordered her to answer the doorbell totally nude.  When  you 
        arrive,  instead  she  is  wearing  something  very  provocative, 
        perhaps  a  baby-doll  and  high heels.   This  is  an  immediate 
        violation  of  her instructions.  You step in, see that  she  has 
        begun  by disobeying.  Perhaps you grab her by the hair and  spin 
        her around.  Perhaps, you give her a stinging slap in the face, a 
        lesson  that obedience is demanded and that nothing less will  be 
        tolerated.   You know that her bedroom is upstairs and  that  her 
        "toys"  are  hidden  there.  You pull the  baby  dolls  off  her, 
        looking,  of course, at her full breasts and erect nipples.   You 
        take  each  nipple between thumb and forefinger,  pinching  hard.  
        You  pull off her panties, order her to turn around, gaze at  her 
        delicious,  full bottom.  You pinch her ass, hard.  And  now  you 
        order her to lead you up the stairs to the bedroom.
        
        As  she climbs the steps before you, her naked bottom  undulating 
        before your eyes, I am sure that you will study it with pleasure, 
        knowing  the joys that it can offer you if it has  been  properly 
        prepared and persueded.  Perhaps at the moment of truth she  will 
        plead  with you, beg you not to spank her-perhaps she will  offer 
        you exotic sex instead.  DO NOT ACCEPT THAT OFFER.
        
        If  you do, a quick orgasm is all you will get.  Insist that  the 
        proceedings go forward, exactly as planned.  TAKE COMMAND.   Make 
        her  show  you where the toys are kept.  Make her  show  you  the crop ,  the  tawse,  and the cane, all hanging on a  hook  in  her 
        closet,  all fully ready to participate in taming  this  hellcat.  
        
        Look  in the box of toys.  See the clips, three together  on  the 
        silver chain, ready to be attached to those delicious appendages.  
        See  the dildos, the butt pluggers, erect and sturdy andready  to 
        do their part in stretching those wonderful openings for you.
        And now TELL HER WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO DO!!.  Make her understand 
        whois master in these preceedings.
        
        Should her hands be tied behind her?  Of course.  Now, some means 
        need  be  found  to give her real fear, to  make  her  understand 
        totally that you HAVE TAKEN COMMAND.  I suggest that she be  spun 
        face  down on her own bed, her delicious ass nude,  upturned  and 
        awaiting  some definitive action on your part.  She does not  yet 
        know what to expect from you.  You know where the bamboo cane is, 
        long  and  slim and lithe.  Take it, swish it in the  air  a  few 
        times so that she can hear the unmistakeable sound that it makes.  
        And  now-  GIVE IT TO  HER-  THHHHHHHWWWWWWWWWAACCCCKKKKKKK!!!  a 
        shocker,  a  real  slash across her rump,  across  both  upturned 
        cheeks.   See the firey red line appear almost  instantly.   Hear 
        her  shocked scream as the horrible burning sensation peaks,  and 
        lingers  on.   And hear the strange tone in her  voice,  at  once 
        fearful, knowing that she is helpless.  Her husband is away,  and 
        nothing will save her from you giving her whatever you think she 
        deserves.   You will be judge and jury, and even  executioner  of 
        whatever  punishment  you  think  is  appropriate.  And  she  can 
        absolutely depend on it, her feminine wiles will get her nothing- 
        except perhaps to get he punished even more.  You have that cane 
        and can and will give her just as much of it as you please.   Now 
        tell  her  what you are going to do, that you will train  her  in 
        obedience, that she will have to account for all her bad behavoir 
        in  the  past--and as you tell her, at  regular  slow  intervals, 
        THHHHHWWWWWWWWWAAAACCCCCKKKKKK--  sign  your  autograph  on   her 
        delcious, plump ass, using that fierce rattan cane as your pen. 
        
        And all this time, think about that green box that she has hidden 
        away  somewhere.  She would never show it to you, never want  you 
        to see the photographs, see the intimate letters, and especially, 
        never want you to see that video tape.  Of course not.  She would 
        never  willingly show you these.  But her master, rattan cane  in 
        hand may have a few different ideas about that.  Why, I would bet  
        that  she  would  not only show them to him, she  could  even  be 
        induced to beg for the privelege of looking at them.
        
        Now  hear  her beg for the opportunity to please  you,  hear  her 
        offer  those delights she has refused in the past.  She begs  for 
        the chance to show how good she can be.  Can she suck your  rigid 
        cock?  Would you like to give her a taste of your golden  stream, 
        directly  into her open mouth, as she swallows every  drop?   You 
        can  have  that.  Do you want her hot tongue  probing  into  your 
        moist asshole?  She is aghast at this, but now would be glad, to,  
        no delighted to do that for you.  Would you rather fuck her sweet 
        asshole,  using only her saliva as lubrication, and  then  later, 
        offer your now-brown stained erection so that she could clean  it 
        for you with her tongue?
        
        No,  not  yet.  Oh yes, she will have ample opportunity  to  show 
        that  she is fully docile, fully trained.  But first, her  master 
        has  a  few  scores to settle with her, and  that  green  box  is 
        certainly  one of them.  And this rattan cane, with which he  has 
        already  expressed his displeasure, is the perfect instrument  to 
        train this bitch, to reduced her to the state that all she  wants 
        to do is please her master, no matter what, no matter how.
        
        Now,  an  hour  has passed.  She is relaxing, as much  as  it  is 
        possible  to  relax with the fierce metal clips  carresssing  her 
        nipples  and  her  clit- and of course, with  that  hideous,  14" 
        rubber dildo that her master has slowly forced into her anus, and 
        where it rests now.  He has, of course, given her the opportunity 
        to  look at the green box- and no matter how much she  hated  for 
        him to see the contents, the alternative, further strokes of that 
        awful  cane, were even worse.  So while she suffers, he looks  at 
        the box.
        
        Right  now,  he  is  looking at a sheaf  of  pictures,  all  very 
        pornographic, showing Helen in one after another disgusting pose- 
        fucking, sucking, being reamed, being spanked, getting an  enema, 
        sucking the cunny of a lovely black lady.  She will be  punished, 
        certainly  for all these transgressions.  But right now he has  a 
        problem.   He  has a raging hardon, and besides that,  a  totally 
        full,  even uncomfortably full bladder.  What to do  about  that?  
        Well,  at the state they are at, perhaps the first thing he  will 
        do with the golden stream is to use it to oil her tonsils- to let 
        her suck it all down, every drop, every last drop.  On the  other 
        hand, maybe he will pull that huge dildo out of her butt, and use 
        this stream of hot piss as a natural enema.
        
        And  afterwards,  what  then?  He has a friend,  a  large,  husky 
        blonde  lady,  a policewoman named Hilda.  He  knows  that  Hilda 
        likes nothing better than having her cunt sucked, and the thought 
        of giving a stropping to a whore would probably be very appealing 
        to her.  Should he call Hilda and invite her over?  That idea  is 
        pleasant  to think about.  Another idea comes to mind.  Heare  is 
        Helen's address book, and here is a listing for Doris, the  black 
        maid  whose  picture he has already seen.  He  wonders  if  Doris 
        would  like to come over and feed Helen another  eclair-  another 
        idea  with strong interest to him.  Well, whatever he decides  to 
        do,  he  has  plenty  of time.  He is  not  expected  home  until 
        tomorrow, and certainly she is going nowhere until he decides  to 
        release her.

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