Welcum Home

I had just moved back to my childhood home in the Midwest after twenty years in Texas. Because the weather is so much more hospitable, I returned to a long forgotten passion for running. It was slow and clumsy going. I was out of shape and unused to the stress and demands of running on asphalt or cracked and broken concrete sidewalk.

Stumbling through the neighborhood I'd once ruled as my childhood kingdom, I stubbed a toe on a square of concrete heaved up by the roots of a giant oak. Lost in daydreams of my youth, my nose hit the pavement before I realized I was falling. It had been a long time since I last experienced a bloody nose.

I pulled off my shirt, wadded it beneath my nose and held my head back, trying to staunch the flow. Not watching where I was going once again, I bumped into a beautiful, black haired young woman who had stepped out of her house to pick up her morning paper and had witnessed my graceless fall. Whether she had come farther down her sidewalk to offer aid, or simply out of curiosity, I never learned. In a voice as soft as eider down, she suggested I follow her inside.

She led me to a small solarium on the back of the house, and had me lie back on the bench of a large piece of home exercise equipment, my feet toward the apparatus and my head leaning back over the edge of the bench. She left and returned shortly with an ice pack wrapped in a towel. Instructing me to stay still, she spoke in a chilling tone, "Now I have to go change. You got blood on my sweatshirt when you ran into me."

When she returned the second time, I was both shocked and pleasantly surprised to see her towering above me clad in a leather bustier, leather thigh high boots, and a studded leather collar. In one hand she held three sets of manacles. In the other a menacing looking cat-o-nine tails.

"This is for your own good," she hissed, as she shackled my hands together beneath the bench. "You must be punished for staining my clothes."

Grabbing my running shorts, she jerked them off my hips and tugged them down my legs. pulling them free, she took first one ankle then the other, and pulling them up high, secured them to the weight machine with the two remaining sets of cuffs, such that my legs and hips were elevated completely off the bench.

Her smile was benign as she flicked the small whip back and forth in the palm of her hand. Even before I registered the snap of her wrist, I experienced the sting of her whip across my exposed buttocks. My erection was immediate. Her smile changed to a lascivious leer at the sight of my organ filling with blood.

"So you like my little stinger?" she growled seductively. "You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment." She snapped the whip smartly across my flanks three more times in rapid succession. I winced and stifled a yelp. "Don't make noise," she admonished me. "Or I'll have to cover your mouth."

The whip cracked again, and this time I let slip through clenched teeth a sound that was half grunt half squeal.

"You don't obey very well," she snarled. "Now we're going to have to cover that pretty little mouth of yours."

With that, she stepped swiftly over the bench where I lay trussed and bound, and sank her soft, hairless bottom onto my face. Without hesitation, I began to lap away at her delicious offering. She sat facing the home gym, her back toward my head, and her hips began to undulate back and forth, sliding both orifices across my face.

"Now that's a good boy!" she growled. "Suck my pussy! Go on! Suck it! Suck me till I come all over your face!" With every "suck" the whip stung my buttocks, harder and faster each time.

I felt her shudder with the onset of orgasm, her cunt spasming around my tongue. Then the gush of fluid washing across my face.

In mid-orgasm she cried out, "Now stick your tongue up my ass, you cuntlicker!"

When I hesitated, I felt her whip lash across my cock and balls, and I complied. As the tip of my tongue began to probe her anus, she bucked wildly and lashed my cock and balls with her whip. "Harder! Deeper!" she cried. "Fuck my asshole with your tongue!"

When her orgasm subsided, she slumped forward. Her shiny, black tresses brushed softly against my swollen member, causing it to twitch. She reached out, and with her crimson fingernails, gave the head a pinch. It reacted with an even more pronounced twitch.

Tasting the Pre-cum from the tips of her fingers she smiled, "You've taken your punishment well. Now it's time for your reward."

She left the room again, this time returning with a fat leather thong tied in a slip knot and a small, mini vibrator. Slipping the thong over my cock and sliding it down to the base, she drew the slip knot up tight, causing my cock to swell even more. She turned on the vibrator, and straddling my head so I would not miss a second of the show, massaged her clit and slid the shiny plastic bullet in and out of her cunt until she trembled once again with orgasmic ecstasy.

Taking the vibrator, now dripping with her own love juice, she shoved it into my rectum. I couldn't escape the invasion, shackled as I was to the equipment. My hardon raged for release. As the pressure built, one leg at a time she released, lowered and resecured to the legs of the bench. Then stepping adroitly over the bench, she lowered herself onto my throbbing unit.

She road me for what seemed like hours, cumming again and again. When at last she was satisfied, she released the slip knot, and with a few quick strokes of her tongue, I exploded in a geyser of semen.

Unlocking the restraints, she admonished me, "You should be more careful, and watch where you're going."

It was the best cure for a nosebleed I could ever imagine.