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Home » Archives for Jenna Dark

Jenna Dark

Erotica: Dirty Cop

June 5, 2017 By Jenna Dark 6 Comments

busted

My SUV flew along the dark highway at least twenty miles faster than the speed limit but I was on my way to my fuck buddy’s place for some after hours fun and I was already late. My phone buzzed in my lap and I opened the text, taking my eyes off the road for a few moments to read it.

“Where the hell are you? You’re really gonna get it now…”

I felt it between my legs, a violent jolt of electricity, and squeezed my thighs together. I thought of James’s strong hands prying them apart roughly and his low, impatient voice. “Open those fucking legs so I can see what’s mine.”

With one hand on the wheel, I typed my response. “My cunt is dripping wet just thinking about you punishing me.”

I dropped the phone into my lap and prepared to move into the exit lane. Then: a WOOP WOOP, a flash of lights and the black and white California Highway Patrol cruiser pulled alongside me. A police officer, in silhouette, gestured for me to pull off the freeway.

My stomach lurched. Six margaritas in the space of 2 hours over dinner with the girls meant I should not have been driving home. It had seemed like too much of a hassle to have to take a cab home and then pick my car up in the morning; now I was possibly looking at a night in the drink tank; no wait, it was Friday, which would mean I wouldn’t be getting out until Monday.

“Fuck,” I swore to myself as I exited the freeway.

A couple of minutes later I was sitting grimly in my seat, listening to the engine cool. I breathed into my palm, wincing as the top shelf tequila hit my nostrils. There was no way the cop wasn’t going to smell that. I gulped the rest of a bottle of warm water that had been in my car since that morning, swilling the vile tasting liquid around my mouth as I shot a text off to James.

“I just got pulled over by the fucking cops!”

I glanced in my wing mirror to see the officer walking slowly towards me. I fumbled in my purse and glove compartment for my documents, took a deep breath, then rolled the window down and readied my best expression of innocence and bewilderment. He leaned in the window and I smelled axe deodorant and minty toothpaste.

“Good evening ma’am. Do you know why I pulled you over?”

I prepared to plead my case and was immediately thrown off guard by the cop’s striking good looks. Piercing blue eyes, black hair and sensual lips. “I don’t know?” I said lamely.

“I clocked you doing 94 in a 70 mph zone. And you were texting while driving.”

The words tumbled out one after the other. “I swear I had no idea I was going that fast. I was having dinner with friends and I have to work tomorrow so I was in a hurry to get home.” I paused. “I was checking the time on my phone. I wasn’t texting.”

He frowned. “Have you been drinking tonight? ”

“No.”

The cop raised his eyebrows. “Driver’s license, registration and insurance please”.

I handed them over and awaited my fate. He looked over my drivers license. “You live at 72312 Orange Grove?”

“Yes I do.”

“You’re going the wrong way.” He pointed back over his shoulder. “Orange Grove is that way. So… where are you going?”

“To a friend’s.”

He looked at me closely and I swallowed. I was starting to perspire, partly due to guilt but also the close proximity of such a gorgeous police officer. Cop’s uniforms have always been a fetish of mine and this one wore his extremely well.

“Hmmm. Stay in your car, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Oh, and I’ll need to take your phone.”

I opened my mouth to argue but decided against it, and handed it over.
He glanced down to my lap and I followed his gaze. My dress had ridden up on the drive and you could clearly see I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I pulled the hem down, but it seemed too much like shutting the proverbial barn door after the horse had bolted. When I looked up he was already walking back to his car.

I sat there miserably, but not before noticing his shapely ass in the rear view mirror. I felt a twinge down there and winced, which only served to make me feel worse. Well, I wasn’t going to get laid tonight, that’s for sure. I would most likely spend it on an uncomfortable cot in a jail cell once Officer Sexy gave me the breathalyzer. I was looking at a hefty fine for texting as well. He was obviously going to check my phone to ascertain whether I was telling the truth about checking the time.

Oh crap. I slumped in my seat and closed my eyes, mortified. James and I had been texting all day, and our conversation had got progressively more risqué as the night had gone on. By now, Officer Sexy would be quite familiar with my kinky sexual fantasies.

“Could you step out of the car please?” I jumped. The cop was back with my documents and my phone.

“Why?”

“I can smell alcohol on your breath. Please step out now.”

Fuck. This was it. I slowly and reluctantly climbed out of the car as if I could somehow postpone the inevitable. I had worn a conservative outfit to dinner but changed into my ‘fuck me’ outfit in the car before leaving. Skin tight red tube dress with no underwear so my nipples were poking out like bullets – of course he had already seen that I wasn’t wearing panties – and stiletto heels. The cops eyes crawled over me. I must have made his night.

“Your outfit doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it, ma’am? It must have been quite the dinner party.”

“I got changed afterwards.”

“For going to see your…friend?” He gestured to the phone and emphasised the word ‘friend’.

“Yeah.” I mumbled, my face starting to burn.

“You got another text from your… friend…while I was looking up your driver’s license information, which I took the liberty of reading.” He tapped the screen and proceeded to read aloud: “If you’re not here in five minutes I’m fucking you up the ass with no lube”. He looked up at me with a smirk.

My mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

“Those are some very interesting texts.”

I took a deep breath. “I didn’t know that sexting was an offence, Officer- what is your name?”

“Officer Smith. Sexting isn’t illegal, but driving while doing it, and driving while under the influence is… your point being?”

I didn’t have a point, and fell silent.

He spoke. “So it appears we have a situation here. You have been a very very naughty girl. I think it’s my duty to text James back and tell him not to expect you tonight.”

“What?” He laughed at my look of abject horror.

“You’re in serious trouble, young lady. You’re looking at losing your license and possible jail time.” I began to speak and he raised his hand to silence me. “However… I am willing to overlook it.”

I clutched at his words like a drowning man clutching at a proffered branch. “You are?”

“Yes. But not without punishment. Your actions tonight were irresponsible and dangerous. You could have killed yourself or others”.

I nodded. I felt that twinge again between my legs. “What kind of punishment?” I whispered. My mouth was dry. He licked his lips. God, he was sexy.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Lock your car up please.”

With trembling hands I did as he requested. He then took me by the shoulders and pushed me against my car, face forward. “Hands behind your back please”.

I struggled. “Hey! I thought you weren’t going to arrest me!”

“Shut up and do as you’re told” was the gruff response. Officer Smith handcuffed me securely, then marched me over to his car, held the back door open for me and as I leaned over to slide inside he gripped the back of my head and pushed me roughly the rest of the way. I ended up halfway off the back seat with my skirt all the way around my waist. I protested but he had already slammed the door shut and was getting into the driver seat. I leaned over and spoke into into the wire cage separating us.

“Where are you taking me?”

He turned around and smiled. “Just sit back and relax.”

Relax? In the back of a cop car with, granted, the sexiest cop I had ever lain eyes on, while he takes me to god knows where so he can dole out my ‘punishment’ for drink driving. It suddenly occurred to me that he was on his own; I thought cops usually travelled in pairs.

“Hey! Where’s your partner? I don’t think this is legal!”

He laughed at that and said “And you’d be the best judge of that, right?”

I sat back and fidgeted nervously as we drove away. After 30 long minutes, he pulled the car off the highway at an exit I recognized as being near the National Forest. We drove on the streets for a few minutes before taking a service road into the mountains. It was winding and bumpy and there was only room for one car in places. Tree branches scraped the side of the car and I rolled around in the back without a seat belt to keep me in place.

“Nearly there”, he called from the front.

The car pulled up in a small clearing and the engine turned off. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I had time to replay the night’s events over in my mind several times. My hindsight was as crystal clear as a mountain lake. I was about to break the silence when he opened the door and stepped out of the car.

He stood motionless for a few moments, looking off into the distance, then came around to the back door, wrenched it open and leaned in. I shrank back but he grabbed me forcefully by the arm and pulled me out into the cold night air. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees, probably as we were deep inside the forest. I shivered. My dress had ridden all the way up so my bare pussy and ass were on display for him. My thighs were slick with my arousal.

“Are you ready for your punishment?” He asked.

“Yes” I murmured.

“Good girl.”

My pussy ached at his words. Officer Smith was extremely attractive and should have had no problem at all getting any woman he wanted. I would have given him my number if I had met him in a bar. He dragged me around to the hood of the car and pushed me forward over it. My cleavage and the side of my face mashed against the cold metal. My arms were still handcuffed behind my back. He kicked my legs apart and pushed himself between them so I could feel the bulge in his pants digging into my ass. It was a not entirely unpleasant feeling.

I grunted. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh.” He whispered in me ear.

He thrust himself further between my legs and ground his crotch against me. Then he laughed and stepped back, pulling on my handcuffs. With one hand he held me firm while the other one fondled my tits through my tube top, squeezing and kneading them. I whimpered. I knew that when his hand made it’s inevitable descent down there he would find my pussy sopping wet.

His movements ceased. “Did you say something?”

“No” I said, my heart hammering in my chest.

I was absolutely terrified and completely excited in a way I had never experienced before. I had played around with sub/dom fantasies with ex boyfriends and fuck buddies but it lacked something. The element of danger was missing. We’d had safe words and a familar environment that just couldn’t compete with being kidnapped and assaulted by a hot stranger, with the promise of much worse to come.

With one motion he pulled my tube top down, exposing my breasts. My nipples were so hard they hurt. He pinched and pulled at them with his free hand while I cried out in pleasure and pain. With his other hand he pushed my skirt up and slid his fingers between my legs. He whispered in my ear.

“Your cunt is dripping wet, just like you wrote. But tell me, is it wet for your friend, or for me?” I didn’t answer, so he slipped a finger up inside me, followed by another, and then one more.

“Fucking little cocktease” he murmured, and began to spank me on my bare ass with his other hand. Hard, stinging smacks, while he continued to finger fuck me roughly. “You dress like a whore, you get fucked like one…”

I was beyond words. Adrenaline was pumping through my body and I could barely speak. I felt myself quickly slipping towards the edge. Nothing could hold me back. I tensed and cried out. Then he stopped. My eyes flew open and I cried out in frustration.

“Not yet, baby. Remember, this is your punishment.”

“What the fuck?” I yelled in anger. “You’re sick!”

He spun me around to face him. Then he slapped my face. Hard. I was stunned, tears springing to my eyes.

“You can go back right now to your car and I can write you up for a DUI. You’ll go straight to jail until Monday morning.”

I just stared at him in confusion.

“Well?”

“I don’t want to go back.” I said in a low voice.

“What? Speak up.”

“I said. I don’t want to go to jail.”

“You want me to continue with your punishment?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to fuck you til you scream. Im going to give it to you hard and rough. I know you like that kind of thing, you kinky little bitch.”

My knees went weak. I nearly collapsed but he caught me and pushed me back down on the hood again. I felt him fumble with his belt and his pants slid down his legs. He pushed my legs wide apart as he positioned himself against my aching pussy.

“Ready, slut?”

He thrust himself inside me and I cried out. He was thick and thankfully I was well lubricated otherwise it would have hurt. He pushed himself deeper inside me and groaned in pleasure as he bottomed out. He held his cock inside me for a few moments, no doubt enjoying the sensation of my hole gripping his cock while I panted like a bitch in heat. He kissed my cheek gently.

“Good girl. I’m going to make you my bitch.”

He began to fuck me deep and hard, grinding himself in circular motions against my bottom, one hand wrapped in my hair for leverage and the other smacking me on the ass, my cries only seeming to make him more excited. My pussy was getting wetter and wetter; I began to push back against him and he grunted in my ear.

“You like this don’t you? You horny little slut.”

The hand that he had been smacking me with grabbed me around the throat and squeezed. I gasped for breath as his fingers pressed harder against my windpipe. I felt myself getting lightheaded and I struggled to stay conscious. His other hand kneaded my clit as his cock pumped in and out of me. I spasmed helplessly as a monstrous orgasm flowed through me. His hands released their grip slightly and I cried out in a mixture of pain and intense pleasure. He withdrew from me and I fell to the ground in a heap and lay there twitching. He immediately pulled me up by the hair and looked into my eyes. His eyes were shining with amusement.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come?”

“I -uh-”

He slapped my face. “Bad girl.”

He pulled me by the hair back over to the cruiser, leant against it and pulled me forward so that I was kneeling between his legs with his large cock stretched out like an iron rod. I looked up at him.

He rubbed his cock against my cheek. It was wet with my juices.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

I nodded and opened my mouth, never taking my eyes off his. I took his cock in my mouth and began to suck gently. I could taste and smell myself on him and I shuddered slightly. I looked up and he was watching me with a faint smile on his face.

“You call that a blow job?”

He grabbed the back of my head and forced it all the way down his length, forcing my jaws wide to accomodate his size. I retched but he held it fast. I couldn’t breathe and struggled with him again frantically. He held my head and fucked my throat as I gagged and gasped and swayed on my knees. He had his hand wrapped in my hair again so I couldn’t fall down. This continued for about ten minutes until I felt the muscles in his leg tense and he suddenly came, groaning, into the back of my throat. He held it there until his orgasm had subsided then pulled out of my mouth.

“Swallow it.”

I did as he said and nodded my complicity. He squatted down next to me, pried my jaws open and peered inside, presumably to make sure. Satisfied, he grinned at me.

“It was my lucky night, pulling you over.
“I’m not done with you yet though I’m having far too much fun to let you go home. Aren’t you having a good time?”

I looked at the ground. I had just had the best orgasm of my fucking life, bent over a police car, taken roughly from behind. I could still feel his heat throbbing between my legs. I had consented to this. Hadn’t I?

“I’ll take your screaming orgasm as a yes. But there is still one hole that I haven’t explored yet, isn’t there?”

He lifted me up until I was laying on my back on the cruiser then kissed me gently, running his tongue over my lips as I whined softly.

He ran his hands all over my body, cupping my breasts, grabbing my ass, squeezing and pinching my nipples. “Such beautiful nipples.. I wonder how they taste….” he said thoughtfully, before descending and taking one in his mouth. He sucked and nibbled on it, while continuing to assault the other one between his fingers.

His free hand traced a line down my stomach and between my spread legs. It was a sore down there from the rough pounding I had just received and I tensed up. He slid his fingers over the opening, which was slippery with my arousal, then released my nipple and brought his face level with mine.

“What a dirty little slut you are.”

He continued to stroke between my legs. “Please.” I wanted to tell him to stop, that this was wrong, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Please what? Please fuck your ass?”

He slid one finger inside my ass followed by another and began to explore deep inside as I threw my head back, my eyes squeezed tightly closed. He murmured in my ear. “Happy to oblige, baby…”

I knew I was about to cum again, and moaned when he pulled them out roughly and slapped me across the face.

“You don’t get to cum again, whore. You’re here for MY pleasure, not the other way around. Understand?” I just stared at him dumbly.

He slapped me, harder this time. My cheek stung. “I said… Understand, bitch? Nod if you do.”

I complied, not taking my eyes off him.

“Good. Glad we understand each other.

“Look.” He pointed down and my eyes followed his fingers automatically. His cock jutted put, fully erect again. He stroked himself.

“This is going in that tight ass. Well, it won’t be so tight when I’ve finished with it.”

I felt fingers sliding into my pussy, then wetness around my asshole as he lubed me up with my own cum, then pressure as a long finger penetrated my tiny hole.

“Let’s get you opened up” he murmured in my ear and I squealed as another finger joined the one already inside.

“You thought you were going to your friend’s to get fucked tonight, didn’t you? Then I came along…”

He spread my cheeks apart and rubbed his cock between them, before lining it up and sliding into the hole. I jerked away from him instinctively but there was nowhere for me to go. I was held fast. I whimpered as inch by agonizing inch, he pushed his thick cock inside me. I was barely breathing and relaxed for a moment when he stopped. Then suddenly he thrust hard and I screamed as he pushed his entire length inside me. He put one arm around my waist and took a handful of my hair with the other hand, pulling my head forward until I thought my neck would snap…and began to fuck my ass with brutal thrusts, whispering in my ear almost the entire time, taunting me.

“You like that thick cock up your ass, bitch?”

On and on he pounded me until tears were streaming down my cheeks. He would squeeze my throat until I was gasping for air, before releasing me just before I blacked out, then repeat it over again.

“Feel me cum inside your asshole, you fucking bitch…” he growled in my ear and, with a groan, unloaded inside me. He fucked me for a few more minutes even after cumming, before finally slowing down and pulling out. He was breathing heavily. He held me close to him and whispered in my ear.

“I’m about to go off duty. I can return you to your car and you can go to your friend’s or you can follow me home. I have a king size bed and no neighbors. It’s your choice. Or perhaps you’ve had enough?”

I thought of his thick, throbbing cock and knew that I could never have enough. I knew what my answer would be.

Erotica/smut writer and submissive pet, Jenny dabbled in kink over the years but didn’t fully embrace it until her submissive desires were awakened more recently. She enjoys every letter in the BDSM acronym. When not being a good, obedient pet she enjoys hiking the beautiful trails around LA and painting.

Tagged With: bdsm, consensual, cop, erotica, handcuffs, punishment, smut

Erotica: The Last Day

November 22, 2016 By Jenna Dark 1 Comment

Scared woman victim of domestic torture and abuse

*This story features consensual non-consent

“Wake up, slut.”

I gasped in panic, and my eyes flew open. For a moment, I was discombobulated, having no idea where I was or what was happening. Then a sensation like being thrown into a freezing cold, bottomless lake pulled me under, and I remembered.

He was there, in my face, close enough to feel his warm breath.

He slapped me hard across my cheek. I cried out, the pain never ending. It was everywhere.

“So you passed out. I didn’t stop.” He’d dumped me on the bed at some point, and he pulled me up on my knees. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you orgasmed at the end earlier…”

I was mortified, but fuck him. He’d manipulated me, rubbed my clit, stroked my insides… I hated him with every fiber of my being. I couldn’t help how my body reacted.

He pushed my head down into the mattress, and this time, there was only resignation. The fear was gone. I hurt and cried, but I was no longer terrified.

“P-please stop,” I croaked.

His hands groped my bottom and spread the cheeks. I choked as one, then two fingers forced their way inside my sore pussy. He finger fucked me hard, rubbing my g-spot.

When he pulled them out, all I could think was how much I wanted them back inside me, as deep as they could possibly go.

My face burned, and humiliation washed over me.

Then he shoved his fingers even harder than the first time, and I saw stars; not just stars, mad constellations. I arched my back and panted like a bitch in heat as I felt myself again propelled toward that point of no return.
I was losing my mind. How could I hate and desire the same thing?

His hand pressed my head into the soft mattress, squashing my mouth and nose into the comforter. Dread tore through me again as I fought futilely to get my breath, and, caught off guard, I came again. Then he released me, and I popped back to the surface, gasping.

I lay there, panting, the horrors that slavered just a few feet away, never far from my mind. He pushed his fingers into my mouth and forced me to lick them clean. His hard cock nudged my thigh, and then he entered me from behind, all the way inside in one swift motion.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, and I knew he was close to finishing. He gave a final push, holding my hips still as he emptied himself inside me. “Fuck. That’s it…”

He pulled out and flopped onto his back, and soon I heard heavy, steady breathing.
I sat up and hugged my knees and watched the sunset. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen one. All was perfectly still and silent.

I listened for voices, sirens, scoured the sky for planes, helicopters, any sign of rescue. I stared until my eyes hurt. I felt wetness between my legs. I moved to the edge of the bed and wiped myself with the blanket.
A hand clamped onto my leg. “You should leave that in there so you’ll be lubed up for the next round.”

I spat at him. It landed on his cheek, and I watched as he raised his fingers to his face and wiped the saliva away slowly. Then he looked up, grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me off the bed and over to the dresser that stood in front of the bedroom door. Holding me firmly around the waist, he positioned his cock at the entrance to my ass.
“No! Please!”

Unmoved, he pushed. I had never been taken in that way before and I panted, deep breaths in, out, eyes squeezed shut as he fucked me savagely, my hips banging against the edge of the dresser. Then he suddenly pulled out, and I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Open your mouth, bitch.”

His fist in my hair, Jon slid his hard cock between my lips, barely allowing me a second to catch my breath before fucking my face hard and fast. I gagged and choked, tears and saliva flying everywhere. Then, without warning, he withdrew.

“You better not try that again. Remember who’s in charge here.”

I looked up at him with wide eyes, and then my heart lurched as the sound of wood splintering downstairs reached our ears. Oak wood. From the front door. The heavy oak door that he had said would hold…

I scrambled to my feet. “We have to get out of here!” I opened the window and looked down to the concrete patio below. It was too far to jump. I looked at the bed. Maybe we could knot the sheets together and climb down.

“No, we don’t,” Jon said quietly.

I stared at him, not understanding.

“This dresser is heavy, and the door will hold for a while.” He leveled me with a grave look. “This is our last day, Rose. Remember that.”

We both jumped as the front door below us broke in and the sound of bodies clumsily crashing through reached our ears.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded.

I complied, my eyes not leaving his, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. I spread my legs. He approached me with the folded belt in his hand. He raised it, and I held my breath. He brought it down on my stomach, and I shrieked. The pain was all-consuming, and I forgot about the world ending.

Again and again, he raised and brought it down on my breasts, thighs, and with a blow that nearly took my breath away, my exposed pussy. After a while, all I could do was lie there gasping. But for the first time, my mind cleared of the terrible, crushing sadness that had pervaded since the death of my sister.

Out of breath himself, Jon stopped, and the belt dropped to the floor. Through eyes hazy with tears, I saw him begin to stroke his very stiff cock, and I knew the emptiness inside me would soon be filled.

Fingernails scraped on wood just outside the door. He didn’t look around. He climbed onto the bed and, still stroking himself, took his other hand and slid two fingers inside my pussy. As his fingers worked incessantly, the orgasm clawed its way out, and he held me while I cried out, my body shaking and tears pouring down my cheeks.
He put his hand around my throat and looked into my eyes as he slowly pushed inside me. My pussy was sore and swollen, so he felt twice as thick. He hooked my knees under his elbows and started fucking me brutally.
The bedroom door creaked.

The dresser rattled.

Finally worn out, we lay next to each other on the bed in the fading light of the last day. I tried not to listen to the sounds just outside. I could have gone to any house, but I chose this one. I didn’t know that a monster would answer the door.

My hand crept along the comforter until it found his.

Erotica/smut writer and submissive pet, Jenna dabbled in kink over the years but didn’t fully embrace it until her submissive desires were awakened more recently. She enjoys every letter in the BDSM acronym. When not being a good, obedient pet she enjoys hiking the beautiful trails around LA and painting. You can purchase the full collection of short stories The Monster Within to which Jenna is a contributing author.

Tagged With: erotica

Erotica: A Fitting Punishment

January 4, 2016 By Jenna Dark 1 Comment

cage photo

I read through my message, a mischievous smile playing on my lips.
“One more thing: I had a lovely cup of Earl Grey tea with my breakfast this morning :)”
I chuckled to myself as I pressed ‘send’. You see, Sir had forbidden me to drink my favorite teas, Earl Grey or English Breakfast, until I saw him again. My deliberate disobedience would undoubtedly earn me a punishment but how bad could it possibly be? Within a minute, my phone pinged.
“You drank Earl Grey tea??”
I typed out my triumphant response. “Yes. It was quite delicious!”
I didn’t hear anything else from him that day or evening and put it out of my mind. The next day I still hadn’t heard anything so decided to check in. I was still not too worried at this point.
“Am I in trouble?”
“You know you are…” And a few minutes later… “But that’s ok, because I will enjoy the consequences.”
The next day, Sir texted me. “Are you free tomorrow night?” I responded in the affirmative.
“Good. Be at my place by 8.” was the curt response.
Delighted, I sent my reply “Yes Sir.” In hindsight, perhaps I should have been more nervous.

Thursday afternoon Sir contacted me to request that I wear a dress and underwear that I wasn’t worried about getting damaged. And to bring a change of clothes. A delicious shiver of excitement ran through me. I dug through my closet and found a black dress that had been just waiting for a moment like this and an old bra and panties. I packed a pair of jeans, change of underwear and tank top into my bag and left the house, a whirlwind of thoughts racing around my head.

Driving through the city streets, I wondered what Sir could possibly have in store for me. I knew he had somewhat of a sadistic streak but this was a minor infraction, just a storm in a teacup really…
I pulled up in front of his house almost thirty minutes early in my haste to not to get there late. The last time I was two minutes late, which he was not too pleased with. I sat and played on my phone while I waited, the nervousness creeping up on me almost imperceptibly until my hands were damp and my heart was beating just a little too fast.
Five minutes to eight or so and I couldn’t wait any longer. Perhaps showing eagerness would gain me some points. I gathered my things and walked up the path. I paused, then rang the doorbell and glanced around nervously. After a few minutes, the door swung open.
“Hello Sir…” I said, smiling. The words hung in the air, unanswered. He waved me in, I stepped over the threshold and into the interior hall.
“You’re four minutes early”.
“Uh, sorry. I thought as I was late last time you might appreciate me being early this…time…” my words trailed off as I realized I was talking to the back of his head.
“Put your purse down and go face the wall.” Sir called over his shoulder. I did as requested and stood there feeling not unlike a naughty schoolgirl. I couldn’t fail to notice the large black metal cage on the floor to my left. I knew he didn’t own a dog, so it didn’t take too much to figure out who would be going in there…
Several minutes passed and I had to fight the urge to turn around. I stared at the immaculately smooth wall – like the rest of his house – my uneasiness growing by the second. And yes, excitement. But before I could process that thought: footsteps, then a hand in my hair, pulling on the roots, dragging me to the middle of the room. He twirled me around to face him. His face was hard.
“Why did you disobey me?”
“I – uh -”
A hard slap across my face stunned me.
“Answer me. Why did you drink tea when I told you not to?”
“I thought it would be funny…” I said in a small voice.
The grip in my hair became tighter.
“You thought it would be funny?”
“Yes Sir. I’m sorry.”
“Not so funny now is it?”
He slapped my face. Then again, and again, all the while keeping a painfully tight grip on my hair.
I winced from each blow.
“Is it?” Slap.
“No Sir.”
“Not laughing now, are you?” Slap
“No Sir.” I said meekly, eyes downcast.
I was not to look at Sir’s eyes directly unless instructed to specifically and I kept my eyes down for the entire exchange.
“Over to the couch.”
Sir marched me across the room, my hair still wrapped around his hand and sat down.
“Over my knee. Now.”
I leaned over Sir’s lap, ready to get my punishment over with. He lifted my dress up and began to spank me on my ass, bare but for the lacy thong I wore. Hard. This wasn’t a playful, fun spanking and I realized for the first time just how furious he must be with me. I squealed and wriggled around in an effort to get away from his hand, which he noticed and remarked on angrily. The blows came down again and again on my ass and the backs of my thighs.
Finally he stopped and I was able to catch my breath. But only for a moment. He forced me to back down onto my knees and took my hair in his hand again.
“Let’s go for a walk…”
He yanked me by my hair and I struggled to keep up with him on my hands and knees as I was led into the kitchen. My pained whines fell on deaf ears.
Sir roughly walked me around the kitchen then around the lower part of the house while I scrabbled to keep up with him and to to keep the pressure off my knees on the unforgiving wood floor. We made a few rounds of the house before going into the dining room. He bent me over the dining table and began to spank me again, this time even harder than before. I yelped and tried to push his hand away, which seemed to only fuel his anger further. He slapped my hands out of the way and held them with one hand while he continued to whack me with the other, my cries ringing in my ears. On and on until I thought I wouldn’t be able to take any more.
Without warning he stopped, wrestled me to the floor and began to pull me along by my hair again, out of the room. I lost my balance trying to keep up and stumbled. My hairs felt like they were being ripped out of my head and I couldn’t tell which was more sore, my ass, my knees or my pride. I reached up to him, a sob escaping from my lips. No, no, don’t cry, whatever you do, don’t let him see you cry.
“Please….”
Tears only seconds away, he crouched down and looked at me. I averted my eyes.
“Are you crying?”
I didn’t respond. After a couple of minutes, I composed myself and he pulled on my hair again and moved in the direction of the door. With a newfound resolve and determination, I followed him back to the living room on all fours, ignoring the pain in my knees.
“Get up”.
He yanked me up in front of the ottoman, upon which lay several items of restraint, cuffs both leather and metal, and what looked like a spreader bar for the head and arms. Sir lifted it up in front of me. “Seen one of these before?”
I nodded.
“Where?”
I mumbled something about Tumblr and he asked where else.
“The film, Secretary.”
This seemed to please Him. He placed a cold metal ring around my neck and locked it, then did the same to my hands, so that my arms were held wide apart and completely immobilized. I immediately felt the urge to scratch my nose.
“You’re going to go into the kitchen and make four cups of Earl Grey tea. You will find everything you need in there. Kettle, teapot, mugs, teabags and milk. You have five minutes to perform this task. Go.”
I hesitated.
“May I go to the bathroom?”
“No.” And with that, he dismissed me.
I hurried into the kitchen and immediately wasted about a minute opening cupboards when I could have had the water on to boil, wincing as they banged noisily. I awkwardly switched the faucet on, and held the kettle under the water, flicked it to on and went to find the rest of the items. Mugs: check – FOUR cups? Who were the other two for? Were we expecting company? But there was no time to ponder this further. Next: teabags. Again I banged my way through the cupboards, but no teabags… Stop. Think. My gaze fell on the ajar pantry door. I slid in sideways, careful not to knock anything and scoured the shelves. I spotted the box of Earl Grey. Grabbing it and maneuvering back out of the pantry, I scrabbled to open the box and shook it to empty the contents. They were the individually wrapped kind and I groaned. Spotting a pair of scissors laying on the counter helpfully, I laid a teabag over the edge of the counter and prepared to slice its head off, like a hapless monarch during the French Revolution. I had been unsuccessful in my search for the teapot and decided to just make them in the mugs rather than waste any more time.
It was a fiddly job but somehow I got all four teabags into their mugs. The kettle clicked off and I carefully poured the boiling water onto the teabags just as Sir walked in.
“Your time is up. You didn’t find the teapot?”
I shook my head. “No Sir.”
He laughed. “It’s ok. I don’t have one.” I smiled nervously.

“Just carry on.”
Now for the milk. I crossed to the fridge and lifted a cardboard carton of milk from the shelf. With a little bit of help from the scissors again, and after making a right pigs ear of the top of the carton, I got it open enough to splash some milk into the mugs.
I stirred the milk and removed the teabags. There was a puddle of water and milk and discarded tea bags and wrappers on the counter. I suspected that Sir would not be happy if I left a mess so I gathered them up, threw them in the trash and wiped up with some napkins.
I carried the mugs carefully, one in each hand into the living room. Sir was sitting with his feet up, looking quite relaxed. He didn’t look up.
“Put them on the coffee table.”
I crossed the room and placed them down, one of the mugs splashing but thankfully none escaping.
“You’d better not get any tea on my carpet” came the stern warning. My heart thumping in my chest, I returned to the kitchen for the other two mugs and gingerly set them down. I straightened up, wondering if this could possibly be the end of my punishment or was there still more to come? But what about the cage?
“Let’s try this tea then…. Hmm, not bad. You Brits know how to make a cup of tea…” he laughed. “It’s ok, you can laugh too.”
Relaxing slightly, I joined in. I needed the bathroom but he had already refused permission, and I didn’t feel like asking again. Once my hands and neck were liberated from the spreader bar, he beckoned for me to take a cup of tea.
“You’ve probably noticed the cage? ”
“Yes Sir” I said, sipping my tea.
“You’re going to be going in there. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Yes Sir.”
This was my most often used phrase and the one that seemed to please him the most.
“Ok, put the tea down, and come over here.” I complied.
“Hold out your hands.”
Sir placed leather cuffs over my wrists and ankles and led me to the cage.
“Wait there.”
A few moments later he returned with the scissors and proceeded to cut my dress and bra off.
“You won’t be needing these again….In the cage.”
I got onto my knees and crawled into the cage as Sir berated me for my slowness. He had put down a blanket and soft rubber mat, which my knees were thankful for.
He crouched down in front of the bars. “Face me and put your legs through the bars”
I wriggled into a seated position and slid my ankles through. He frowned. “You can get them wider…”
Finally happy with my position, Sir moved around to the back of the cage.
“Put your left hand through the bars behind you.”
I did as requested and he clipped the cuff to the bar.
Sir pulled over a side table and placed the four mugs of tea upon it. “Drink up.”
I reached through the bars and picked up the mug I had been drinking from before. I hesitated. I could feel the pressure building up; I really needed to use the bathroom. He tapped on my shoulder. “Drink your tea.”
I sipped the hot liquid, as I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but I was held fast. Sir left the room. I tensed my thighs, wishing I could squeeze them together for some relief, having finally figured out the reason behind the the four cups of tea. I was impressed. Sir was very creative. He certainly ensured that the punishment fit the crime.
The music that had been playing in the background since I arrived abruptly ceased and the living room was aurally transformed into a tropical rainforest, complete with the sound of rushing waterfalls. I rested my mug on my knee and shook my head; I had to laugh.
“Did I tell you to stop drinking?”
Sir rapped the bars of the cage from behind with some metal implement and I jumped, almost spilling hot tea on my knee. I quickly raised the mug to my lips and took a long gulp.
“I asked you a question.”
“No Sir. You did not.”
“And what is so funny?”
“Nothing, Sir.”
“Enjoying the change of music?”
I swallowed a giggle. “Yes Sir.”
“Thought you might. How are you doing with that tea? Nearly finished? ”
“Halfway, Sir” I replied, and drank deeply.
“When you have finished that, there are three more.”
I remained silent. I was only given permission to speak if a question was addressed to me, which this was not. I had been caught out before, but I was learning. I finished the tea, returned it to the table and picked up the second mug.
Sir straightened up. “I’m going to be in the other room. When you have finished all the mugs of tea, let me know.”
I was starting to feel very uncomfortable indeed and was only on my second mug of tea. I gulped the rest of it down and immediately reached for mug number 3; there was no sense in prolonging things. The sooner I finished up, the sooner I would get to relieve myself, or so I hoped. By the time I finished number 4, I was positively squirming.
“Finished, Sir!” I called out, straining to look over my shoulder. There was no response. Did he not hear me?
“Sir-”
“I heard you the first time” he said, sauntering into the room. “You finished all the tea?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Do you need to ask me something?”
“Yes Sir, I do.” I said, grimacing.
“Go ahead.”
“May I go to the bathroom? ”
“No. You can wait a bit longer.”
He walked out as I stared after him in disbelief. I looked down at the floor of the cage. Did he want me to go right here? Perhaps that was part of the punishment? I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to hold it.
After a few painfully long minutes, he returned. He sat down in the chair opposite me and folded his legs.
“I want you to beg me to go.”
I almost blurted out “What?!” But I knew I hadn’t misheard him.
“Please Sir, may I go to the bathroom?”
He laughed. “You call that begging? I know you can beg better than that…”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Please. I BEG you Sir. I really really need to go. PLEASE. PLEASE.”
He pondered this for a while, as I waited desperately.
“Alright. You can go.”
I sighed audibly. Thank you Sir.”
He crouched down in front of the bars and released my left hand, followed by both ankles, then I heard a bolt being shot back.
“Out.”
I was stiff from being in the cramped, confined space and it took me a minute or two to unravel myself. I crawled out ungracefully, and was immediately taken roughly by the arm and pulled to my feet. I tottered insteadily. Sir led me to the stairs with his fingers digging into my arm, which would probably bruise tomorrow. We ascended. He guided me forcefully into the bathroom then brought me to a stop. There was a metal bucket standing on the floor in front of the cabinet and a couple of items on the countertop
“Into the shower. Against the wall. Face me.”
I stepped inside and got into position. Sir picked up the bucket and placed it into the shower. I looked at him curiously.
“Well? What are you waiting for? You wanted to go, didn’t you?”
I took a deep breath and approached the bucket. I began to remove my underwear but Sir grabbed my hand.
“No. Leave them on.”
My eyes widened but I sat over the bucket, and gripped the edges with my palms. Sheer relief overshadowed any embarrassment I felt and I began to go while Sir watched. It went on for an excruciatingly long time and I felt like a pet sitting in a litter tray with its owner looking on. After a couple of false stops, I looked at him.
“Done?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good. Stand up”. I did as he asked and he sliced my underwear off with the scissors from the counter. “Open your mouth.”
I just looked at him, incredulous. Then, a hard slap across the face. “Did I stutter?”
My mouth opened wide. Sir stuffed my pee soaked panties in my mouth, and as I moaned, reached behind him on the cabinet and pulled a reel of electrical tape, and proceeded to wrap it around my mouth and the back of my head. He stood back, looking satisfied. “Back against the shower.”
I stepped back and pressed myself against the back wall as Sir picked up the bucket and loomed over me. I shook my head, making indecipherable noises through my stuffed mouth. He approached me as I cowered there, and tipped up the bucket. The contents showered over the lower half of my body, running down my stomach, thighs and calves. I grunted in disgust through my gag, naked and humiliated, dripping with my special brew: Earl Grey infused urine.
“That was the end of your punishment. Relieved?”
“I nodded and grunted a response.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I nodded thankfully. The electrical tape was rubbing the sides of my mouth and I couldn’t wait to get it off. Sir removed the tape and the underwear from my mouth, then switched on the shower head, as I waited gratefully for the cleansing water to hit me. It was freezing cold. I shrieked. I thought this was the end of my punishment, but I didn’t dare point this out.
“Straighten up.” He directed the shower at me as I tried not to flinch, failing miserably. “Too cold?”
“Yes Sir! It’s freezing!”
“Haha. Let’s see if we can warm it up a bit.” He fiddled with the knob and the hot water came on. I relaxed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sir washed my hair and body for me.
When I was completely clean, he handed me a soft, towel.
“Have you learned your lesson?”
I nodded. “You won’t be disobeying me again anytime soon?”
“No Sir.”
“Good. Dry yourself off.” He left the bathroom. As I patted myself down, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, hair a mess. I smiled slyly, certain that this wouldn’t be my last punishment.

Erotica/smut writer and submissive pet, Jenna dabbled in kink over the years but didn’t fully embrace it until her submissive desires were awakened more recently. She enjoys every letter in the BDSM acronym. When not being a good, obedient pet she enjoys hiking the beautiful trails around LA and painting. You can purchase the full collection of short stories The Monster Within to which Jenna is a contributing author.

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