Disciplinary Measures by Cara Bristol Page A

slick finger between her cheeks to her back hole. He worked it inside.
    The sheet felt cool against her heated face. They’d engaged in anal play on many occasions. She found it humiliating and arousing. But never had the indignity or the excitement seemed as great as now.
    She gripped the covers as he prepped her asshole, working additional lube inside her, adding a second finger and opening her passage more. She bit back a whimper. He wasn’t rough, but he meant business.
    “You’re ready now.” He pumped two fingers inside her ass. “You know it goes in easier if you can force yourself to relax.”
    “Force myself to relax?” Perhaps later she’d be able to chuckle at the oxymoron.
    He reached for the plug, and she averted her face. The cold, wet, hard object touched her portal. Gentle but insistent force. The tip entered. Stretched. Internal pressure. She tensed at the slight burning. He went deeper, and she moaned, twisting the sheet in her fist. He inserted it the rest of the way, and her sphincter closed around the neck. Stuffed. No longer painful, but she wanted to weep in an inexplicable way.
    He lifted her from the bed, and she risked a glance at his face. Serious, intense. No indulgence there. She shivered.
    “Stand in the corner and wait for me.”
    “Yes, Linc.” She trod across the room like a robot, the plug’s rigidity and size signaling its presence with every step, a hard reminder of her circumstances. She assumed the position and heard the bedroom door click shut. Her lower lip wobbled, and she bit into it. Stared up at the ceiling.
    When the bedroom door opened interminable minutes later, her knees shook in earnest. She had agreed to a spanking, wanted it, needed it in some dark way, but that didn’t make it less nerve-racking.
    He had her lie over the bed, several pillows tucked under her hips, her legs spread wide to expose everything. Perhaps he sensed her fear, but he stroked her first, smoothing his hands from shoulder to thigh, paying particular attention to her ass. His touch did soothe until he turned rougher. He slipped his fingers along her cleft and into her cunt, and she wondered if he was as surprised as she to find her pussy soaking wet.
    Then his fingers were gone. Pain sizzled across her ass. Stung the other cheek. The spanking was almost a relief. Thwack! Again. And again. He didn’t allow her time to catch her breath, for sharpness to mute to a burn. Her muscles ached with the force with which she gripped the plug.
    He stopped spanking. Her bottom burned with radiant heat. The metal buckle rattled as he stripped his leather belt from the loops.
    “I consider what you did this time more serious because you did it with full awareness of our agreement, so the punishment will reflect that. Do you understand?”
    “Yes.” Her heart in her throat, she added, “I want that too.” His loving was fierce; his punishment would be equally so. Pain brought renewal.
    She heard the belt displace the air.
    Breath left her lungs in a whoosh as pain splintered across her ass. Only seconds later did her cry escape her throat to echo through the room. Another streak of fire. Then a lash that seemed to tear a strip off her ass, though she knew it wasn’t so. A blaze of pain that propelled her to her tiptoes. She cried. She begged. She screamed, but the lashes continued.
    When it ended, he coiled his belt and placed it on the bed. He dropped to his knees, pressed his lips to her raised flesh, licking the welts with his tongue, murmuring her name. It burned, his mouth did, but comforted too. He moved lower to plunge his tongue into her cunt, and lower still to draw her clit into his mouth. With his thumbs he held her wide open, her nub at his mercy, as her ass had been, would always be. He sucked her clitoris with an almost painful ferocity, but pleasure and agony were merging, and she craved everything he did to her. She danced on her toes, thrust her pussy against his face. His bristled