Adam And Eden

An eBook By Lizbeth Dusseau.

"Then if I give it to you hard, maybe you’ll become wiser?" the Mistress returned, not unkindly, but she could so easily shake her head in sadness.  "Take off the dress and drop to your knees."

It was a command the submissive recognized.  Hearing its sweet refrain, she obeyed in seconds.  Naked at Miss Angel’s feet she touched the dusty floor with her lips and raised her ass.  A sweep of satisfaction poured through her limbs as she made the pose more awkward raising her ass to expose it more fully.  She felt the crop just seconds later, fondling her genitals so that she was ready to wince, expecting pain.  Yet while still on guard against the first blow, she relished the sensation of leather taking a pleasure-ride between her thighs, along her exposed anal cleft and against a clit swollen with desire.  She swayed her ass just as her mistress swayed her whole body when she moved.  Then there was tapping on her ass cheeks where it was plump and she could take a good beating.  A little yellow remained underneath from where the last bruises had been.  If mistress just used that crop there might not be more bruising, but then it was okay if there was.  What she really wanted was the pain.  The pain got way inside to cleanse the bogeyman inhabiting her soul-or so she believed.

The tapping turned to smacks of leather and the two rude cheeks churned in place while she kept her face pressed to the floor.

"You’re a bad girl, Leslie Ann," her mistress scolded.  "I should refuse you on behalf of dominants everywhere.  They shouldn’t have to put up with trashy brats like you."  The crop came down hard, right on the cleft and the asshole and the pubis where it hurt, and where the smoldering sensations of fire began.  Miss Angel thrashed her hard letting her harsh riding crop attempt to beat some sense into this docile deviant-until her ass was red and the cleft was sore and her pussy screamed in agony, just as the screams from her mouth lifted high toward the ceiling-until she thrashed about inside invisible bonds to be set free.  She looked like a struggling tiger caged, in a cage of her own making.

The submissive waif bore down hard inside herself, remembering that she’d love what it felt like afterwards, after the pain had turned her insides into jelly, and her screams had emptied her of every bit of woe-if only for a second in time.  Miss Angel gave her an extra dose this night-the woman was emotionally charged to the point of being over the edge.  When she dropped to her knees, a move few mistresses would ever stoop to, and began spanking the brat’s ass with the palm of her hand, she conveyed disappointment in this servile wench.  How she tried and yet how confused she remained.  Miss Angel was nearly in tears with compassion.  A dangerous place to be, she was sure.  As much as the blonde appealed to her, as much as Miss Angel would have liked to have her permanently, the lust for good cock...

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