This is a NSFW report of an experience I had sometime this year. Most delicious the experience was too. Nothing too graphic or boundary pushing in this one…
The commands had scared me. Even given from a hundred miles away they had power. The butterflies raced. I knew how hard I would have to spank myself to still feel it twenty minutes later. Twenty minutes is a blip in the ocean when someone else has been spanking me, but to do it to myself? I was scared I couldn’t do that.
I stood in the shower with my left arm against the tiled wall.
The water was running down my back, my breasts, my arse, my legs. My hairbrush was in my right hand. My master was cross with me for not remembering how many strokes I had managed before. This time I did not lose count. I gave myself 16 smacks on my right bum cheek. Then 16 on the left. I repeated this three times.
It stung but I knew it would not last. I had to spank somewhere else. I spanked lower, at the sweet spot where my thigh and bum meet. I spanked myself hard and fast. It hurt so much I had to bite my left arm. I gave myself 12 strokes on each leg, three times over. The bite marks on my arm were large and deep and lasted for days.
I got out of the shower and dried myself. I was shaking. It hurt. I looked in the mirror. Bruises were already forming.
I hurried to leave the house and get the bus to the train station. It hurt to sit. Pain seared through my thighs and my bum. I was dripping juices from my cunt, they were leaking through my panties and into my jeans. Permission to orgasm had not been given. I tried very hard not to come, but the movements of the bus kept rubbing the seam of my jeans along my clit. It felt delicious. The orgasm was intense (I would pay for that later). It was hard not to make a sound. I hoped the person next to me didn’t notice.
The train was very full. I was surrounded by old men. I had one last command to fulfill that day. I had to do it within twenty minutes of my spanking. I went to the toilet on the train. The door was blocked by moody teenagers. I asked them to move. The toilet was luxurious for a train but it stank and was full of shit.
I leant against the railing on the inside of the graffiti-covered door. I could hear everyone chatting. There was a half-length mirror in the toilet. I undid my jeans and rubbed my clit. I put three fingers into my vagina. I was dripping wet. I rubbed myself and I fucked myself. My cunt squeezed my fingers as I struggled to stay upright. The teenages were laughing outside. I tried not to make a sound. I had to bite my lip. I came standing in the shit-filled train toilet in front of a dirty mirror watching my hands working, feeling my arse sting, and listening to the people outside. My dirty hands stayed dirty. I had been a good girl.