A Coctease Tamed

Beth leaned in and kissed Michael deeply, but moved his hands away from her breasts. Undeterred, he pulled her in closer to him on the sofa and gently guided one of her hands to the bulge in his pants, letting her feel his hardness.

She pulled away immediately.

"I think maybe I should be going now," she said, breaking their embrace.

"What are you talking about?" said Michael, his blue eyes beset with confusion, "on the dance floor you were practically begging for it!"

"I beg your pardon?" said Beth, "I was just dancing. I'm allowed to do that, aren't I?"

"You were dancing like a complete slut," said Michael, "and you came home with me. What did you think we were going to do here?"

Beth's cheeks burned.

"I don't like that word, 'slut'," she said, "I was just out for a good time. That's allowed isn't it?"

"Get out," said Michael, handing Beth her purse, "I don't need to waste my time with cockteases who can't follow through."

"Of all the arrogant things to say!" Beth was furious. She took the purse from Michael and turned towards the door. She really really needed to pee, but was willing to do it on the street if she had to.

She raised her middle finger in Michael's direction as she turned and opened his front door.

"Don't call me."

"You'll be back, slut. Your hips don't lie."

Beth slammed the door as hard as she could and raced down the stairs and out of the apartment building. She looked at her watch. The last bus was scheduled for 12:45 AM and it was 12:46 right now. Maybe she'd get lucky!

As she stood next to the bus stop, trying not to think about how bad she had to pee, she went over the events of the night. She'd gone out dancing with her friend Lisa. She and Lisa had been friends since high school and liked nothing more than to get dressed up in sexy outfits and make out with guys on the dance floor. Things never went any further than that. Although Lisa had given a blowjob or two, and Beth had been talked into a handjob once in her senior year of high school, both of the women were virgins and intended to remain that way until marriage.

Beth even wore a ring to remind herself of her commitment to stay a virgin. It looked just like an engagement ring, except she wore it on her right hand.

A few minutes passed, and Beth began to get the sinking feeling that she'd missed the last bus. She'd have to call a cab. She reached into her purse and fumbled for her cell phone. It was gone.

A dreadful feeling swept over her as she realized where she'd left it: in Michael's bathroom. After they'd left the club, she'd texted Lisa from his bathroom to let her know that she was safe.

"Rlx," she'd written, "i left w a hot guy but we r just going 2 make out at his place."

She must have left the phone on the bathroom counter. She had no choice but to go back.

Luckily, she remembered the apartment number. When Michael answered a few seconds after she rang the buzzer, he sounded calm and collected, just as he had at the club when he asked her to dance. Part of her was happy to see him again -- he was very handsome, after all. He was tall, slim yet muscular, with short brown hair and blue eyes. He exuded a sense of authority on the dance floor, and it was all Beth could do not to surrender herself to him completely once they'd gotten back to his apartment. Now, as she walked back up the stairs, she wondered if he'd been right: had she left her phone on purpose (subconsciously of course) so that she'd have a chance to see him again?

When she got to the fourth floor, Michael's door stood open. She walked quietly inside and slipped into the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and looked around for the phone. It was nowhere to be seen. Had she been wrong about where she left it?

In any case, she was happy to finally have a chance to pee. She relieved herself, then flushed the toilet and washed her hands. When she opened the bathroom door, she saw Michael, sitting in the foyer in a simple folding chair, blocking her way out of the apartment.

He held up her cell phone.

"Looking for this?"

"Yes!" she said, trying to stay upbeat and light, "thanks for finding it! I was worried about it."

"I bet you were," said Michael, smiling, "would you like it back?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll do something for me first, won't you?"

"What?"

"Repeat after me: I am a cock-hungry slut."

"I beg your pardon!! If you're going to talk that way to me I'll just go now and bring the police back with me to retrieve my phone."

Beth tried to walk around him to the door, but he grabbed her in his powerful arms. To her surprise, she found herself ass-up over his knee a split second later, staring at the ground as she wriggled against him.

"What are you doing? Let me go!"

"You've acted like a slut," said Michael calmly, "so now I'm going to treat you like one."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to spank you. I will stop whenever you like. You are in control."

"Stop!" shrieked Beth.

"Not so fast. Like in any game of domination and submission, there is a safe word. In this case, it is a phrase."

"I don't know what you're talking about," cried Beth, "just give me my phone and let me go!"

The blood was beginning to rush to her head.

"All you have to say to get me to stop," said Michael, "is 'I'm a cock-hungry slut'."

He tore the flimsy tights that barely concealed her thong panties down her legs.

"Stop! What are you doing!" screamed Beth, even as she felt a warm feeling spreading over her nether-regions.

SMACK!

Michael's first blow caught her off guard. She cried out and tears began to come to her eyes, due less to the pain than the humiliation.

"Please stop," she stammered.

"No problem," said Michael, "just say the magic words."

"No!" Beth was still defiant.

SMACK! SMACK!

Michael left two bright red hand prints on Beth's pale white ass. She cried out again.

"Stop it!"

"Say it," said Michael, drawing back for another blow, "tell me what you are!"

"No!" said Beth, feeling herself becoming even more aroused as the blood began to flow back upwards to her pussy. She was getting wet! Now she was even more angry with herself than with Michael.

SMACK! SMACK!

She couldn't help whimpering in pleasure and rubbing against his leg as his blows landed across her still thong-covered pussy.

"You little whore, you love this don't you? This is what you came back for isn't it!"

"No --," she moaned, then "Oh -- no --," as he began to rain blow after blow down on her helpless ass. The more her spanked her, the more aroused she became. Almost involuntarily, she wriggled herself into a position that left her pussy even more exposed to his blows.

He tugged her thong down her legs and slipped a finger inside her.

"I was right, I see," he said, probing her tight virgin cunt with his thumb, "you're wet. You really are a slut."

"No!" protested Beth, "I'm a virgin!"

"Slutiness isn't just based on actions," said Michael, who had stopped holding her down once it became clear to him that she would no longer resist, "slutiness is a state of mind. And you definitely have it. I could tell from the moment I met you."

"No!" said Beth, who was wriggling her ass to grind his fingers and hand into her clit, "I just wanted to dance!"

SMACK! SMACK!

She gasped and felt her toes begin to curl. Michael looked down at the incredible sight before him. He was about to spank this petite busty blonde to orgasm!

Her toes curled, her legs tensed, and she strained to rub her pussy even harder against his hand. She had totally forgotten the humiliation of being pulled over a stranger's lap, and abandoned herself to the incredible new sensations.

SMACK!

When Michael landed a final blow across her reddened ass, Beth let out an earthy moan and came harder than she ever had in her life, even when she masturbated. He let her stay across his lap for a few moments, then smacked her again.

"Ouch!" said Beth, "that hurt!"

She rolled herself off his lap and stood rubbing her sore ass for a moment before pulling up her thong and tights.

The two looked at each other, neither of them speaking for a while. Michael's erection strained against his pants. Ordinarily, he would have pressed the matter, but he had a feeling that Beth was a very special girl, so he decided to bide his time.

"You can leave now," he said, standing and moving the chair away from the door.

"My phone, please?" Beth stretched out her hand. Her face was flushed deep red from the exertion of the spanking and orgasm.

"You didn't say the magic word."

"I'm a cock-hungry slut," mumbled Beth, staring at the floor and turning an even deeper shade of red.

"What?" said Michael, "I didn't quite hear you?"

"I'm a cock-hungry slut," said Beth, a little louder.

"Look at me when you say that."

He put a hand under her chin and pushed her gaze up to his. Her eyes were covered in smeared mascara, but she was beautiful.

"I'm a cock-hungry slut."

"Here you are," he said, handing her the phone, "I've taken the liberty of entering my number. Give me a call when you get the urge for more. I know you will."

Then he shooed her out the door and locked it behind her.

Standing in the hall, her backside burning, Beth began to realize what had happened. She had been spanked to orgasm by a stranger and liked it! Did that mean that she wasn't a virgin anymore? And had Michael been right when he told her that slutiness is just a state of mind? What was she going to tell Lisa?

***

The next Monday at work she had to go out at lunch to find a cushion to sit on because her ass was so sore. It was a constant reminder of her encounter with Michael. Part of her wanted to forget the whole thing, to go on with her life as before and never tell anyone about it.

But another part, the part that came out late at night when she was alone in her apartment with her vibrator, wanted to call him back and arrange a meeting. When she masturbated, she pictured herself across his lap once again, in his bed, doing all kinds of things with him that she'd never done before (and barely dared to even think about). Before she met Michael, most of her fantasies had been romantic and vanilla, but now she was discovering a whole new side of herself that yearned to submit to a powerful man.

But when she was at work, she was ashamed. She opened the address book on her cell phone and erased his number. She would never see him again.

That Thursday, she met Lisa for drinks at a bar between their offices.

"So," said Lisa, "that guy on Saturday. Michael, right? Has he called?"

"No," said Beth, "and I don't think he will."

"Why not? You were looking hot that night!"

"You know. He only wanted one thing, like the rest of them."

"Eww!" said Lisa, "can't they understand that some girls just want to make out without... doing it?"

"Guess not," said Beth, hoping to change the subject.

"So you went to his apartment?"

"Yeah."

"And he came onto you?"

"Yeah."

"What did he do exactly?"

"Started feeling me up, that kind of thing."

Beth took a drink of her cocktail then continued, "can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!"

"How far can you go with a guy before you're no longer a virgin?"

"Beth!" shrieked Lisa, "what did you do with him?"

"Promise not to judge me?"

"Beth..." said Lisa, "please tell me you didn't..."

"No," said Beth, "but please don't judge me."

"Ok," said Lisa, "you know I'm your best friend."

"He spanked me."

Lisa looked confused.

"Spanked you? Like over his knee?"

"Yep. Right across his lap."

"What a pervert! You called the police, I hope. That's assault!"

"No," said Beth, "please don't judge me for this, either, but --"

"But what?"

"I came. I came really really hard. Harder than I think I ever have."

Lisa looked a bit disgusted, but intrigued.

"Did he make you do anything to him?"

"No," said Beth, leaving out the part about having to call herself that filthy name, "he just let me leave after that. My butt is still sore."

"So you liked it?"

"Yes."

She paused.

"Have you ever thought about being spanked?"

"No," said Lisa, "and I don't think it would be a turn-on. It sounds so...humiliating."

"It was," said Beth, "but thrilling at the same time."

"You're not going to see him again are you?"

"No. I erased his number."

It was true. His number was gone, and if Beth had wanted to see him again, she would have had to go back to his apartment, which she wasn't even sure if she could find. Still, over the next few weeks, the pattern repeated itself: at night she would imagine doing all kinds of dirty things with him, and during the day she would regret it.

Nights, she was a whore in her own mind: on her knees, servicing him, letting him take her, begging him to spank her. Days, she was a conservative young woman with a promise ring on her finger. Even though the soreness had left her ass, the marks of the spanking persisted in her psyche.

Then, almost a month later, she found herself at the same club where she had met Michael. She watched as Lisa danced with a handsome dark-haired young man who had bought both of them drinks, but she couldn't help but scan the crowd for Michael's face.

He was nowhere to be found, of course. She would never see him again. How would she ever get the courage to explore her submissive side with someone else? She knew she wouldn't. She resolved to take action. She left the club without saying goodbye to Lisa, then set off in the direction she and Michael had walked a few weeks before.

She passed through a darkened residential area, a wealthy one. The row houses stood strangely silent for such a big city, as if the crooks and club-goers had agreed that this block was off limits. It was almost scary how quiet the street was. Beth reached into her purse and gripped her keys in one hand and her cell in the other.

At the end of the quiet block there was an intersection that seemed familiar. Suddenly, Beth knew where she was! She had to keep herself from running up to the building on the other side of the street that she recognized as Michael's.

She still knew the buzzer as well. Her heart pounded as she thought about what he might do with her. Spank her again? Whip her? Make her suck his you-know-what? She was almost wet just thinking about it, but terrified as well. She gave the buzzer one long ring, then stood there waiting.

Nothing.

She rang it again. She couldn't believe that she had the guts to do something like this, something so forward. Part of her would have been happy if he didn't answer.

Once again, no response.

She turned to leave. Just then an older woman on her way out of the building swung the door open, almost hitting her. She stood there expectantly holding the door, waiting for Beth to pass before she continued on her way.

"Excuse me. Thanks," mumbled Beth as she walked past the woman and began to climb the stairs. The hallway was lit garishly by the overhead bulbs, which were on a timer. She took such a long time to reach Michael's door that the timer went off, and she stood there in the dark, deciding whether or not to knock.

She put her ear up to his door, not sure what she was hoping to hear. Just then, the door swung open, and she almost fell inside. It was Michael.

"Come on in," said Michael, "do you know it's after 10PM?"

To her surprise, he grabbed her hair near the base of her head and led her just inside the foyer. The overhead light was on, and she had to squint while her eyes adjusted.

He closed and locked the door behind them with his other hand.

"I knew you'd be back," he said, pulled her hair back so she was looking up at him.

"Tell me what you came here for."

"I came to see you again."

"Why?"

"Because," she couldn't finish the sentence. She began to blush again.

"Let me finish that thought," said Michael, "because the cocktease finally met her match, right? Because you've realized what a slut you are?"

Beth couldn't answer. She just looked at him.

"No need to answer," said Michael, pushing her to her knees, "actions speak louder than words anyway."

Beth was short. She was about 5'0", and so from her knees she had to crane her head upwards to see Michael's package as it bulged from behind the zipper on his pants. She knew what she was going to do, but waited for him to guide her.

"Unbutton my pants."

She reached up and fumbled for a moment with the button, before successfully releasing it.

"Now unzip them."

She unzipped his pants slowly. She gasped as she caught a glimpse of what was waiting for her. Luckily, it was still hidden by his boxer briefs. He helped her a bit by easing down his trousers.

"How many cocks have you sucked, slut?"

"I've -- I've never," stammered Beth.

"I don't believe you," said Michael, "but maybe you're telling the truth."

She reached up to the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down in a single stroke. An enormous, erect cock fell down and smacked her in the forehead. A string of precum leaked onto her brow.

It could be that Michael's cock wasn't much bigger than average. After all, Beth had scant means of comparison: the only handjob she'd given had been more than five years ago, in a darkened room.

But no matter how Michael measured up to other men, in Beth's mind he was gigantic. She'd never had anything bigger than a tampon inside of her (even her vibrator was quite small), and never stuck anything larger than a banana in her mouth. She simply didn't see how she could accommodate him.

"Go ahead and touch it," said Michael, enjoying her look of awe and terror.

She reached up and touched the shaft gingerly. Because he curved upward, the tip of his cock was still on level with her forehead. His balls were at her eye-level.

"I can't --," she began, "I mean, it's so, so."

"Big?"

"Yes!"

"You're really surprised, aren't you?" asked Michael.

Beth nodded, looking up at him with her pretty blue eyes. She was frightened.

"I guess the cocktease is afraid of cock!" Michael laughed.

Beth blushed, and began stroking along the shaft, lubricating it with the precum dripping from the tip.

"That's a good girl," said Michael, "don't worry," he added, "I'm going to cure you of your fear of cocks tonight."

He grabbed his cock and forced it down towards her lips.

"Open up, slut."

He pushed it roughly into her mouth. She barely had time to react. Her teeth scrapped across his shaft, but he didn't seem to mind. He grabbed her hair at the back of her head and forced his cock even deeper. She didn't understand how it had fit in her mouth to begin with, but now she could feel its head at the back of her throat.

"Mmm," she moaned, breathing quickly through her nostrils.

"That's it slut," said Michael, pressing his cock into her throat, "moan on my cock. Show me how much you love it."

She didn't love it, at least not yet. She felt like she could barely breathe as his shaft entered her throat. Still, she had a perverse urge to prove to Michael that she was up to the task, that she really could take his cock, so she did her best to repress her gag reflex.

Of course, that only lasted for a few moments. Soon she was choking. Afraid she would vomit, Michael pulled his shaft out of her mouth and let her catch her breath. Her face was flushed with exertion, her make-up smeared.

Suddenly, he smacked the side of her face with his cock. The blow itself stung, but the humiliation was even more painful. She gasped.

"Don't act so surprised. You came here to be treated like a slut, so I'm doing just that."

Before she could respond, he forced his member back into her throat. He was fucking her now, holding the back of her head as he pushed his cock in and out of her throat. After several strokes, he took it out again and jerked her head backwards by the hair so she was looking up at him again.