Cruelly admonished

To my knowledge there is only one person I know who knows that I write this blog. It is a direct result of what I write here that lead to Ted waiting in his car in the street outside a block of flats in St. John’s Wood while the teenager lay on her back on a huge bed in The Model’s bedroom. Chloe’s wrists and ankles were shackled together and both were attached to a long bar that held her legs apart. She was naked. The Model and I stood next to each other and gazed at her glistening cunt.

The young girl knew who her hostess was. I’d told her that I knew her as we’d watched her exploits on the internet. When The Model had emailed me and asked me to introduce my new house-guest: I was immediately keen to do so.

Our hostess has more experience in BDSM than me. The event by the dust-bins in the frost showed me that she has a preference for being a dominatrix, and this obviously was something that Chloe wanted to explore. The Model looked the part. She was wearing a PVC basque that was tightly laced and gave her a tiny waist which emphasised her hips and her bust; she was also wearing the thigh-length patent leather boots. The girl on the bed looked at her in awe. I noticed that her eyes kept darting down to the tiny black lace panties that barely covered our hostess’s smooth mound.

The Model slowly walked across the room and opened a drawer in her closet. We both watched her amazing arse as she bend over and withdrew an ornate riding crop. The handle was decorated by Swarovski crystals, the tip a thin strip of soft leather.

As she traced that soft switch along the soft flesh of Chloe’s exposed inner-thighs the girl whimpered in expectation. I enjoyed watching her helpless pleasure and anticipation, waiting for The Model to exercise her will. She lifted the crop and smacked it against the girl’s soft flesh, leaving a livid red mark on the skin near her pussy and making her cry out.

Chloe was panting, unable to close her thighs and waiting for the same thing to happen on her other leg. As The Model obliged, the teenager’s eyes watered, her tears made her mascara run over her cheeks. The teasing but harsh blows left crimson weals on her skin as she sobbed quietly, but between each blow she asked for more. I couldn’t take my eyes of her cunt and then our hostess ran the soft leather switch over the girl’s labia. The lips of her cunt were swollen with desire. The pain that The Model had inflicted on her clearly excited her. When The Model used the soft leather to separate Chloe's labia the wetness of her pussy flowed out of her cunt. Her clit stood out proudly like a piece of pink quartz and was cruelly admonished with a swift flick of the switch. The direct contact against her clit made me wince, but as I heard my house-mate’s unreserved ecstasy my panties flooded.