Pornography Punishment Ch 02

I had been allowed a "recovery" period, then Annie, who was now naked, but for her high heels, ordered me back on the rubber sheet and told me to prepare to "start stroking", a misnomer as I don't masturbate like that.

"Now, Dave," said Annie, as my playsuit-clad wife, Lorraine, started filming my ordeal, "you've got a target of one hour to reach. Fail and you please me with your mouth, again. Succeed and it's a fuck."

Then she paused. "Which would you rather have, wanker?" she asked, sneeringly.

"A fuck, please, Annie," I told our 40-year-old next-door neighbour.

"Right, well you'd better control yourself, then, Mr Wanker," she laughed. "Now first picture - ooh, a youngie! How young, wanker? Nineteen, 20?"

I had resumed my wanking, rubbing my stiffy up and down on the towel which my wife had laid on the rubber sheet, to replace the one I had soiled during my previous masturbation control humiliation.

"I think she'd be about 20, Annie," I said, as I gazed at one of my favourite wank pictures - a lovely blonde, with a sort of Mona Lisa smile, was sitting back in a large brown leather chair, her widespread high-heeled feet resting on a coffee table, her thighs wide. She was wearing a black PVC bikini, the bottom of which was drawn tautly across her lush pussy.

"You fancy her, you want to fuck her, you want to eat her, don't you?" Annie taunted me as I wanked.

"Yes," I mumbled, and then Annie had turned another picture over.

This showed a superbly-bodied woman in pony-girl gear, with long black boots, dragging a little sulky with a bare breasted, hard-faced looking woman sitting in it, brandishing a wicked-looking buggy whip.

"You'd like to be in that sulky, whipping her lovely buttocks, wouldn't you, wanker?" said Annie.

But I could hardly answer before the next shot was placed before me. This showed a mature woman, possibly in her late 40s, wearing a big black PVC bra and high-hipped black PVC panties. She also wearing thigh boots and standing on a bed, flexing a cane in her hands.

"Christ, mummy's going to whip him - look, wanker, she's got to be 50 if she's a day! You fuckin' old pervert!"

I grunted and continued my thrusting as Annie turned over yet another picture. Oh dear, this was one of my favourites, of a blonde model with deep blue eyes. She was wearing a half-cup red satin bra, which showed the briefest glimpse of the tops of her areolae.

Her legs were crossed and round her midriff was a red leather mini-skirt and she was showing a broad expanse of rather whitish thigh. In her hands she was flexing a whippy, cruel-looking slim cane.

"What the hell is this?" sneered Annie, as I gazed at the picture. "Oh, I get it, it's the fuckin' cane. You'd like her to cane you, wouldn't you? Go on, admit it!"

"Yes, Annie," I muttered, "I'd like her to cane me."

"And then you'd like her to urinate on your buttocks, you'd like the sting as the salty piss splashes onto your fuckin' fat arse, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Annie, that would be lovely," I confessed.

"Fuckin' perv," she snapped, turning over the fifth picture during my ordeal. And so the interrogation and the picture turning continued, six, seven, eight nine, 10 pictures.

Then number 11. Oh fuck, this was one of my all-time favourites!

It showed the lovely English model, Theresa May, wearing a black leather bustier. Above it were her large, brown-nippled breasts. Her black hair was tousled, her skin gleaming as if she had just enjoyed a long, sweaty fuck.

Beneath the hem of the bustier Theresa was nude, displaying a strip of dark pubic hair at her mons, then kissable piss flaps, which shone in the camera's flash. What a beautiful pussy!

I groaned as I looked at it. I was past the first 10-minute mark, surely it was nearly time for another brief rest?

But no, Annie drove me on with her words.

"Fuck me, you really fancy this tart, don't you wanker?"

"Yes," I grunted, fighting back sweat which was threatening to flood my eyes and the beginning of an explosive ejaculation which was threatening to flood the towel!

"Who is she? Name, age? Tell me about her!" snapped my interrogator.

"She's Theresa May," I answered, drinking in the mature English woman's beauty.

"Age?" snapped Annie, again.

"Er, I don't know," I mumbled, "possibly late 30s, possibly 40."

"Forty if she's a fuckin' day," Annie said, "but that wouldn't stop you fuckin' her if she allowed it, would it?"

I was feeling the onset of the inevitable tumbling from my cock. "No," I agreed with Annie. Theresa May is one of the world's most fuckable women!

"But she wouldn't let you fuck her, would she, wanker?" Annie went on, remorselessly. "And you know why? 'Cos she's a fuckin' dominatrix, isn't she, wanker?"

"Yes, Annie, I think she is," I answered, and then I was lost, my cock was shuddering, my balls were bursting.

"Go on, wanker, come for the lovely Theresa. Look, she's laughing at you, you pathetic wanker," shouted Annie, as I gave up the totally struggle and spent my second spunk shot on the towel, all the while gazing at Theresa May's imperious pussy!

"Nineteen fuckin' minutes," Lorraine announced, as she checked the counter on her VCR. "Well I think you're going to have to halve the time for his third wank, Annie. Bring it down to 30 minutes, see if he can last that long, the cunt."

"Agreed," said Annie, as she sat back in the easy chair and spread her thighs onto the arms to display a moist-looking pussy, hardly any less desirable than the strict Theresa's.

Lorraine wiped my dwindling cock on the towel, then went and threw it in the laundry basket. "I've got him going down on you on film already, Annie," she said. "Enjoy your next orgasm, while I go downstairs and mix us some drinks. A nice long vodka?"

Annie checked her watch. "Christ, it's only just gone 11 - oh, what the hell, I don't have to drive. Sure. Now, slave, suck me and I want a better fuckin' Big O this time, 'kay?"

I climbed from the bed and knelt before Annie's sweet-smelling pussy, its fragrance strong and musky in the warmth of the room. Just before I had started laving away at her obviously aroused sex lips, Annie whispered to me.

"Now listen, Dave," she said, "I really want a fuck from you, you pathetic little toad. You want to fuck me, don't you?"

I gazed at her dark pussy, and her lovely tanned skin. God, she looked so much like the adorable German model, Lady Barbara!

"Of course I do, Annie, I think you're fuckin' gorgeous," I said, and it was no lie, she was oozing an earthy, feminine sexuality which I found intoxicating as I knelt so close to her lovely snatch.

"Well, what do I have to do to get you to fuck me?" she whispered.

"Less of the fuckin' word teasing," I said. "And go for the batch of pictures I've got of Lynda Leigh - she's another English model, but I'm getting over her. I think I could last the distance if you produced those."

Annie grinned down at me and then patted me on my sweaty face. "OK lover boy, you've got it. Now eat me!"

And as Lorraine entered the bedroom carrying two long, large vodka and tonics, I began my oral adoration on Annie's lush and inviting pussy.

She let me work slowly and steadily, giving me plenty of time to recover from my second spunk-shooting exercise and then she was starting to feel the full arousal of the Big O as my tongue at last concentrated totally on her clit.

Her second orgasm was louder than her first, but again accompanied by her shouted commands of "Flat tongue me, Dave, flat tongue" as I worked on her to the climax.

After Annie had calmed down, Lorraine instructed me to take a plunge in the pool, complete 25 laps and then come back to "see if you can last for at least 30 minutes, you fuckin' pathetic tosser".

I sprinted from the room, and leapt into our pool, still naked - the pool is shielded from our neighbours, which is just as well, considering some of the things Lorraine get up to beside it occasionally!

I towelled down, then returned to the scene of my previous humiliations. There, on the bed, I saw a pile of pictures - about 25, I knew - and on the top was the lovely Lynda Leigh, a busty, mature blonde from England, who had been one of my favourites for some time. But lately, I had cooled of her fully-lipped piss flap attractions, although she was still a very fuckable woman.

Annie "helped" get my cock and balls encircled by the metal engorgement ring, then let me lie down on the rubber sheet and yet another clean towel. "Now let's go for a third time, Dave," she said, "and for fuck's sake try to do it right this time!"

"Now, name, age and what do you know about this stern-looking tart?"

I began to thrust up and down on the towel as I stared at the pretty English model. Big breasts in an open-fronted leather bra, a leather garter belt, leather g-string. She was holding a cat o' nine tails and wearing elbow-length rubber gloves. But I thought I could handle this, all right.

You see, it's a lot like life, pornography. Sometimes you come across a lady you think you wanna fuck forever, and then she goes stale on you. Her breasts and pussy are no longer lickable, her face becomes just another face.

Well, that was the way it was with Lynda. I thought when I'd downloaded her that I would wank to her forever, but I grew tired of her, despite the erotic leather and PVC clothing she often posed in.

So Annie could go on about how much I wanted to fuck her, how much I wanted to lick her pussy, drink her piss, how much I wanted her to whip me - it didn't work, I was well in control.

It didn't matter how much she tried to goad me - and I don't think she was trying too hard, between you and me - I wasn't going to come wanking to Lynda. The spark between the lovely English model and myself had died, the flame would not be relit.

After 30 minutes, Lorraine made me roll over to check my cock and my towel. The former was still stiff as a board, the latter was moist from pre-cum, but the globs of cum that I'd shot in sessions one and two were absent. I had won!

"Well done, Wanker," said Lorraine, jerking the towel from beneath my hips, "you've earned the right to fuck Annie."

Then, addressing her friend, Lorraine asked: "Mind if I film it, just for our own private amusement later?"

"Fine by me," smiled our black-haired neighbour, "but what say Dave has another refreshing swim, while I get ready for him and his eight-inches of pleasure?"

Lorraine smiled knowingly, then invited - sorry, ordered me outside for another 25-lapper. Just as well, I guess, I needed a bit of a breather, it had been a hard-working morning.

Back upstairs, after towelling dry, I entered the bedroom. There, I found Annie lying on the bed, her body covered by one of our black rubber sheets.

Lorraine was standing alongside the bed, VCR in hand. "Get the engorgement ring on, then pull the sheet back," she told me and I did, only with some difficulty, since it's hard - pardon the pun - to get a metal ring like that on when your cock is trying to soar into erection.

Finally I achieved the goal, and stiff-pricked and cock-and-ball-ringed, I was ready to throw the sheet back from Annie's body.

"OK, Dave, she's all yours," called Lorraine and I swept the sheet back from Annie's prostrate figure, then gasped with surprise.

Her lush, full body was naked - I expected that, of course. What I had not expected was to find her wrists bound by black stockings to the bedposts and her ankles similarly bound at the posts at the foot of the bed.

Annie grinned at me and spoke. "Sorry, Dave, but being fucked while in bondage is just one of my turn-ons. And being licked when I'm helpless like this is another. So do you mind getting started?"

Did I mind? I almost dived onto the bed, my mouth at her minge in an instant, my tongue licking and laving at her tasty twat. Soon she was writhing in anticipation of another orgasm, but this time I was in charge.

Sensing her increasing agitation and excitement, I dragged my mouth from her thrusting pussy and ran my tongue over her mons, into her navel, across her nipple-taut breasts and into her mouth.

As I insinuated my tongue into her mouth, I insinuated my cock into somewhere equally warm, wet and inviting.

"Oh fuck me, Dave," she panted, after I had pulled my mouth from hers to lick her ear lobe and nuzzle at her neck, "I've not had a cock for so long!"

To quote Clark Gable and his immortal one-liner from Gone With The Wind, frankly, my dear, I thought, I don't give a damn.

She'd teased and tormented me all morning, now I was going to enjoy myself, riding to glory in her lovely cunt. I thrust like a teenager, all fun and no fuckin' care.

I didn't care whether she came, all I cared was that I was having the fuck of my life - well, one of the fucks of my life!

Then I kissed her on her full red lips again and once again I marvelled at how much she resembled the luscious Lady Barbara, who I'd often masturbated to. And now here I was, fuckin' a Lady B look-alike!

It was by then too much for me. I felt that old familiar surge as the brain gave the balls the signal: "Let it all go, partner!"

I was coming and coming hard, thrusting and thrusting, pumping and pumping until I gave a gasp and a cry as my third ejaculation of the morning shot its way up my shaft and out of my cock into her waiting vagina.

Christ, I thought, as I fell off her, panting and laughing, laughing and panting, all at the same time, I've just fucked Lady Barbara!

As I said when I started the story, I've got this thing about pornography!