Description

BDSM for Rent Payment, by Jezebel Rose

Hillary pushed open the door to Jackson’s study. The empty chair and the desk seemed to mock her as she scanned the books lining the walls. The laptop computer he used was closed and, she assumed, locked away in one of the drawers, leaving the wooden surface bare of ornament. There was not even a sheet of paper resting on the polished top. She glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed in relief as she calculated that she was exactly three minutes early. Soon after they had agreed on a method for her to pay the interest on the loan he had made her, she had discovered that Jackson considered every minute late making such a ‘payment’ was added on, in some way.

Only once had Hillary been more than five minutes late with her ‘interest’ and, for that, she had suffered at his hand over a full hour, unable to scream because of a diabolical device that he had found, or had recreated, she was never sure which, called a “Scold’s Bridle”. This gagged the wearer with a narrow metal plate, in this case spiked, that pressed down upon the victim’s tongue and was fastened tightly about her head with leather straps. She hated being gagged, anyway, and this particular gag she hated so much that she had been early for every other of their monthly ‘payment sessions.’

Glancing guiltily around, s though she expected him to be stood, watching her from a corner, she reached beneath her skirt and hooked her fingers into the waist of her panties, sliding the silk quickly down her legs, over her shoes and stockings and then stuffing them into her purse. Jackson had often, since entering into his Mastership of her, forbidden her to wear panties to work, insisting that she sat in her office with her cunt shaven and ass plugged where anyone could, by merely bending down. Or perhaps by following several steps below as she climbed the stairs, feast themselves on the view of her ass, the cheeks parted by the base of the obscenely large, black butt plug, or the sight of her cunt, mostly pink and often dripping onto the tops of her stockings. He had insisted that ‘payment days’ would invariably be a day where she would be expected not to wear panties. That morning she had dressed hurriedly and had, without thinking of the significance of the date, pulled on a pair of tight silk panties. Only when she arrived home from her office, breathless with the rush from the driveway, had she spotted the calendar and realized that this was the day she paid the final installment of her interest.

The door opened, and Jackson appeared, wearing the dark blue robe, of pure polished silk that he reserved for such occasions. The black case that held the cane he used was in his hand and, she knew, the flexible strip of wood was nestled in its velvet cradle. Jackson placed the box gently on the desk and unfastened the lid. Hillary just stood and waited, watching his hands as he opened the box and lifted the cane from the velvet bed. The pale, lemon-colored wood was stained brown where her blood had marked the smooth surface. Just seeing the smudges on the shaft reminded her of the searing agony and she shivered, at the same time feeling the tightening of her cunt that signaled her dark, perverse need.

Jackson gestured to Hillary, and she began unbuttoning the front of her dress, right from the neck, down to the hem and then slid it from her shoulders, before folding it neatly over the back of a chair. Jackson watched as she straightened up, standing in front of him, wearing her stockings and her garter belt, her breasts almost spilling from the cups of her bra. Slowly, she reached behind her, unfastened the clasp of her bra, and then eased the straps down her arms, laying her bra on top of the folded dress. Jackson’s eyes narrowed a little, and he frowned as he noticed the narrow band across her hips where the elastic of her panties had pressed against her skin. Stepping closer he moved behind her and glanced down, taking note of the narrow line across the small of her back that marked the smooth surface, denoting the elastic of her panties. He slid his hand down Hillary’s spine, his fingertips closing on the suspender straps that held her stockings up and unfastening one clip and then the other. Hillary bit her lip as she felt Jackson running his fingernail along the dip at the base of her spine and then across the red line at her hips.

“Tell me, my dear, had you forgotten that you had to make a payment today?” he murmured into her ear.

Hillary blushed and nodded, mutely, accepting that he knew about her transgression. She lifted her head a little; keeping her eyes cast down and waited for him to decide upon her punishment. Hillary could feel the clips of her suspenders moving against the skin of her thighs as she breathed, the silvery metal tickling gently. Jackson slid his hand across the taut curve of her buttock, pressing the base of the plug more firmly into her ass and making her breath quaver in her throat. Gently he pressed against the bottom of her spine, propelling her to the edge of his desk and then pushed on her neck, so that she had to bend at the waist, with the side of the wood pressing against her thighs. Hillary rested her forearms on the smooth, polished wood, her breasts just brushing the desktop, straightened her back and legs, lifting her ass higher. Jackson gripped the base of the black latex plug that was filling her ass and pulled gently, slowly drawing the thick tapered stalk out of her tightly clenched anus. Hillary opened her mouth and breathed a long sigh of relief as she bore down to help ease the shaft of the plug out of her back door.

Hillary could feel the shaft of tapered latex stretching her asshole slowly, and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and upper lip as she thought the thickest part of the plug stretched her anus until the skin around the dark pucker was almost paper-thin. She groaned, very softly, as Jackson eased the cap all of the ways out of her asshole and placed it to one side. She could feel his fingers spreading her cheeks and skimming lightly around the rim of her asshole, making her twitch and shiver in anticipation. She heard the rustle of his hand dipping into the pocket of his robe and then felt something cold and slippery being smeared around the rim of her anus. Hillary wriggled for a moment and then stopped as the pleasant cool of the substance faded, and an intense burning sensation replaced it. Hillary heard the click of glass against wood, glanced sideways to see the familiar blue of a ‘Vicks’ jar on the desktop, and smelled the sharp pungency of the menthol and eucalyptus oils.

Jackson stepped out of the study, leaving Hillary splayed across the desktop, returning a few seconds later with a bowl of hot water and a couple of face cloths. The burning in Hillary’s ass was intense now, the menthol and eucalyptus making her writhe against the cold wood. Jackson dipped one of the materials into the hot water and began wiping the ointment away from her anus. Hillary flinched and then sighed, with relief, as Jackson carefully cleaned the translucent goo from around her asshole. At last, when he was sure that he had cleared every drop of the ointment from Hillary’s backside, he took the second cloth and gently patted her skin dry.

Hillary stayed motionless, her hands clenched around the far edge of the desk, her knuckles white with the strain. She could feel the points of her nipples, pressed hard against the desktop, as she waited. Jackson picked up the cane and held it in front of her face, waiting. Hillary knew what he expected her to do and pursed her lips, kissing the polished surface, just where it was stained with her blood. Her tongue flickered against the darker patch, tasting the coppery bitterness. She shifted her feet a little and caressed the wood with her plump, moist lips glancing upwards from under her lashes at her master waiting, hoping for his approval.

Jackson stepped back and lifted the cane in his hand, swinging it horizontally through the air to crack harshly against her taut buttocks. Hillary grunted as the thin wooden rod bit into the tender flesh, and she straightened her back a little. A scarlet welt rose across the curve of her ass and puckered Hillary’s delicate skin. The line of the cane burned across her ass, and Hillary desperately wanted to rub the tender skin, to take the sting away. She heard the evil hiss of the wood through the air as Jackson swung the cane again and felt the burning flash of pain as the woodcut into her skin, an exact finger’s width above the first stripe. Her whole body jerked, and the welt reddened almost immediately. Hillary could feel her cunt tightening and moistening as the burning in her ass subsided, and she blushed as she felt the familiar churning of arousal in her womb and belly.

Hillary tried to breathe slowly and calmly, to still the burgeoning need welling up in her. She could feel the burning of her face, almost as intense as the burning in her ass, at the perverse pleasure with which she was anticipating the next cut of Jackson’s cane. She knew that he had photographed and videotaped earlier sessions and imagined him showing them to other masters, her humiliation and loutishness displayed to them all. She lifted her ass as high as she could, tightening the muscles of her thighs and waited, trembling, to hear the swish of Jackson’s next swing. Hillary tensed as she heard the hiss of the cane, cutting through the air, and clenched her teeth, just as the wooden rod slashed downwards to catch her at the very top of her buttocks. Hillary gripped the desktop hard as she arched her spine, crushing her breasts against the wood and throwing her head back in a soundless scream of perverse pleasure. With swift, vicious flicks of his wrist, Jackson slashed the cane against her buttocks until he had left ten, equally spaced, welts running down the curve of her ass from her back to her thighs. Hillary counted them, silently, tallying the cuts of the cane and trying to block out the growing feelings of arousal that clouded her mind.

Jackson wound his fingers in her hair and pulled Hillary, roughly, upright. Her eyes watered as she felt the tugging on her scalp and she straightened, her hands dropping by her sides. Then Jackson spun her around and pushed her back against the desk, his hands on her shoulders, bending her back until he had her spread across the desktop, her plump, swollen breasts in the air and her erect nipples pointing to the ceiling. Hillary just waited, compliant and obedient, as Jackson raised the cane again and brought it down in a vicious cut across her breasts. The pale wooden rod struck squarely against the points of her hard nipples and pain exploded through her body, sending sparks fizzing along her nerves, directly to her clit. The hard pearl of her clit throbbed and Hillary wished that he would allow her to touch herself and release the building tide of frustration that threatened to overwhelm her. Jackson raised the cane again and slashed it against her nipples again. Hillary gasped as the wood slapped against the points of her bruised and swollen nipples and then gasped again as the aftershocks from the pain reached her clit and she began to cum, her cunt convulsing and each spasm squirting hot, fragrant fluids over her thighs and the tops of her stockings. Her legs trembled and her back arched as her heels drummed against the side of the desk, then she flopped back against the wood, gasping for breath.

Jackson watched Hillary lying across the desk, panting and waiting for permission to move. He knew that the welts across her tender ass must be pressing uncomfortably against the cold, hardwood and that she was burning up with her need to cum, but he just watched and waited. His imagination was busy, conjuring up ways to punish her for breaking his edict that she must go without any panties on those days when she was due to make a ‘payment.’ Hillary knew that the narrow line around her waist had given away her transgression and she waited for his decision.

Please purchase this story and support me as an author! Thank you! ~ Jezebel Rose

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