Laura dominates John with spanking and humiliation, taking him to the limits of pleasure and pain. How far is he willing to go for her?
Sweat still glistened on John's skin as he recovered from his last orgasm, his body trembling under the weight of Laura, who had collapsed on top of him with a lazy smile. Her fingers traced slow circles on his chest, as if she were marking territory. The room smelled of sex, of melted cream and the sweet and salty scent of their mingled fluids. John breathed deeply, feeling the mattress still sinking under the weight of their entwined bodies, the wrinkled, damp sheets sticking to his skin.
"You're so easy to handle," Laura murmured, her voice husky and satisfied, as she sat up slightly to look down at him, her breasts brushing against his torso. "A good little dog, always ready to please his owner."
John didn't respond with words. Instead, he slid his hands to her hips, squeezing with a mixture of possession and submission, as if to remind her that, despite everything, he also desired her with a consuming intensity. Laura laughed, a low, throaty sound, before moving fluidly, straddling him. Her thighs, still trembling from her previous orgasms, closed around his hips, trapping him.
"You want more, don't you?" she asked, though it wasn't a question. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his without actually kissing him. "But this time, we'll do it my way."
Before John could react, Laura pushed him down, forcing him to roll onto his stomach. The mattress gave way under her weight as she positioned herself on top of him, her legs hugging his thighs, her hot, wet sex pressing against his ass. John gasped when he felt the first blow. Laura's palm descended hard on his left buttock, the dry sound echoing in the room. The pain was instant, a burning that spread like lava under his skin, but laced with something else: an arousal that made him harden against the sheets.
"Oh, fuck!" he groaned, burying his face in the pillow, his fingers gripping the edges of the mattress tightly.
"Shut up," Laura ordered, her voice firm, as her other hand slid between her legs, finding his throbbing erection. "I didn't give you permission to complain."
The second spank came before he could prepare, this time on his other buttock. The pain intensified, but so did the pleasure as she squeezed his cock tightly, moving her hand up and down in a slow, torturous rhythm. John moaned, his body arching involuntarily, offering himself to her without resistance. Each blow was a reminder of who was in charge, who owned him completely. His skin burned, reddened beneath Laura's relentless palm, which showed no mercy.
"Look how well you behave when I treat you the way you deserve," she whispered, leaning down to nibble at his ear while her hand continued to work his member. "You're a pathetic cuckold, but that's what turns me on most about you."
John couldn't help but moan louder, his body responding to every word, every insult, as if they were caresses. The humiliation burned him inside, but it also made him feel alive, desired in a way no one else could understand. Laura knew this. That's why she spanked him harder, her blows faster, more precise, while her other hand slid to his anus, pressing with a lubricated finger.
"You like it, don't you?" he asked, his breath hot against her neck as he slowly penetrated it with his fingertip. "You like being reminded of how little you're worth outside this bed."
"Yes..." John gasped, his voice breaking, his body tensing around that intruding finger. "Please..."
"Please what?" Laura laughed, abruptly withdrawing her finger, leaving a void that made him groan in frustration. "Do you want me to fuck you like the bitch you are?"
Before he could respond, she pushed him to the side, forcing him to roll onto his back. Their eyes met, dark and filled with lust, as Laura positioned herself over him, her thighs hugging his hips. Without preamble, she guided him inside her, sinking with a throaty groan that echoed around the room. John grunted, his hands going straight to her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as she began to move.
"Fuck, Laura…" he murmured, his voice choked with pleasure as she rode him hard, her breasts swaying against him, her hair plastered to his sweaty face.
"Shut up and fuck me," she demanded, her nails scratching his chest as she leaned forward, her lips crashing against his in a wild, almost violent kiss.
John obeyed. His hips bucked, thrusting upward with her every movement, their bodies colliding in a frantic rhythm. The sound of their skin slapping filled the room, mingling with her gasps and moans. Laura broke away from the kiss, her breathing ragged, as one of her hands slid to his neck. She didn't squeeze hard, just enough to remind him who was in charge, to make his head spin with the controlled lack of oxygen.
"That's how I like it," she whispered, her lips brushing his as her hips moved in circles, squeezing him inside her with a force that made him see stars. "You're mine, John. All yours is mine."
He couldn't speak. He could only moan, his hands gripping her hips tighter, his fingers leaving red marks on her skin as the orgasm approached, inevitable. Laura felt it. Her body tightened around his, her inner walls contracting as a strangled cry escaped her lips. John couldn't hold back any longer. With a guttural grunt, he came inside her, his hips thrusting upward one last time as his cum filled her, hot and thick.
Laura collapsed on top of him, her breath coming in short gasps, her body trembling. For a moment, there was only silence, the sound of their hearts beating in unison, their skin sticky with sweat. She kissed him, this time tenderly, her lips moving against his in a slow, almost reverent rhythm. John responded, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair, holding her close as if he feared she would disappear.
"You're incredible," he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with an admiration that went beyond the physical.
Laura smiled, pulling away slightly to look at him, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something else, something that almost seemed like affection.
"And you're an idiot," he replied, giving her a small bite on her lower lip before pulling away completely.
John watched her as she got out of bed, her naked body moving with feline grace as she made her way to the bathroom. The sound of running water reached him, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply feel: the ache in his buttocks, the residual pleasure in his groin, the warmth of his cum still escaping her. It was a feeling of possession, of belonging, that filled him in a way nothing else could.
When Laura returned, she had a towel wrapped around her body, but she didn't bother covering herself completely. In her hand, she held a small jar of cream, which she threw onto the bed before straddling him again, this time more carefully.
"Let's do this right," he said, opening the bottle and pouring a generous amount onto his hands before rubbing them together. "I don't want you to hurt yourself... too much."
John gasped as her cold, lubricated hands settled on his aching buttocks. The initial contact made him shudder, but soon the pain melted into deep pleasure as she massaged the cream into his reddened skin, her fingers working in firm circles. Each movement was a delicious torture, a mixture of relief and arousal that made him hard again.
"You're insatiable," Laura commented, noticing his growing erection against her thigh. "But I already knew that."
Before he could respond, she slid down, her mouth replacing her hands. John gasped as he felt her hot tongue lick the cream from his buttocks, moving down toward his anus before moving back up. It was a slow, methodical torture, designed to drive him crazy. And it was working.
"Laura, please…" he begged, his hips moving involuntarily, seeking more contact.
She laughed, her breath hot against his sensitive skin.
"All in good time, my love," she replied, before taking his cock in her hand, her tongue giving a slow lick from base to tip.
John closed his eyes, his head falling back as she began to work on him with expert precision. Every lick, every suck, every small bite was calculated to maximize his pleasure, to keep him on the edge without letting him fall. But then Laura stopped. She pulled away completely, leaving his body trembling and needy.
"What the...?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at her, confused.
She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she reached for her phone, which was on the nightstand, and after unlocking it, turned it toward him. On the screen, a video began to play.
John blinked, his eyes focusing on the images. It was Laura, no doubt, though her face was partially covered by a scarf. She stood in what appeared to be a dark alley, leaning against a wall, as an unknown man forcefully penetrated her, his hands gripping her hips brutally. The moans coming from her were wild, almost animalistic, and the sound of their bodies colliding filled the video's audio. John felt his cock throb, his arousal growing despite the humiliation burning in his chest.
"Do you like what you see?" Laura asked, her voice a seductive whisper as her hand wrapped around his member again, moving in a slow, tortuous rhythm.
John couldn't tear his eyes away from the video. Another scene appeared: Laura in a public bathroom, sitting on the sink while another man fucked her, her legs wrapped around his waist, her moans muffled by the stranger's kisses. It was raw. It was dirty. It was perfect.
"Y-yes…" she admitted, her voice trembling as her body responded to every sight, every sound.
Laura quickened the pace of her hand, her other hand sliding down to his balls, squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure.
"You're a fucking cuckold," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear as the video continued to play. "But that's why you turn me on so much."
John couldn't help himself. With a stifled groan, he came in her hand, his semen splashing onto her stomach as his body shook with orgasm. Laura didn't stop, continuing the motion until he was completely empty, panting, his mind clouded with pleasure and humiliation.
When she finally let go, John stood there, trembling, as she turned off her phone and set it aside. She wiped her hands with the towel before lying down beside him, her body pressed against his as if nothing had happened.
"Well?" he asked, his voice soft, almost curious. "What do you think of your perfect girlfriend now?"
John didn't respond immediately. Instead, he pulled her towards him, his lips seeking hers in a slow, intense kiss, as if he could convey everything he felt without words. When they broke apart, his gaze was serious, almost solemn.
"I wouldn't change anything," he finally said, his voice firm. "Because this… us… is exactly as it should be."
Laura studied him for a moment, as if assessing his sincerity. Then she smiled, a smile that was both triumphant and genuine.
"Good boy," she murmured, before kissing him again, this time with a tenderness that contrasted with the crudeness of what they had just done.
Outside, the night continued, indifferent to the games unfolding within those four walls. Inside the room, the air still smelled of sex and possession, of a desire that knew no bounds. And as they embraced, their bodies still trembling, neither of them knew—or perhaps didn't want to know—how far this would take them. But for now, that didn't matter. All that mattered was the here and now, and the certainty that, whatever it was, they would face it together.