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Teaching Shannon - Part 7
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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The following story is purely fictional. It is copyright © 1993 by its
author, Honi Soitqui Malypense, who grants to the public the right of free
replication for non-commercial purposes only, provided that no changes are
made and that this notice is retained. All other rights are reserved.
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WARNING
This story contains profanity, sex (m/f), domination of a girl by a man, and
violence. If you do not enjoy such things, please do not read it. If you
do, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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TEACHING SHANNON
Chapter Seven
Shannon was changed in several ways by her first real whipping. It had been
a serious one, of course, more serious really than I had planned, and it took her
quite a while to get over it physically. During this time she stayed in bed alone
much of the time, and I often heard her crying. I knew that she was trying to
decide to leave me, forget about our bargain, and go home. She was always polite
to me, and did as she was ordered, but she was withdrawn, too concerned with her
problems to pay serious attention to anything else. I understood what was going
on, and left her alone except for two things: I made her keep up with her
schoolwork (though I forewent quizzes for a while), and I made her lick my
asshole and suck me off every day. She performed these sexual duties in an
abstracted fashion, as uninterested in them as in everything else. Because of
this, I got very little pleasure out of them myself; I kept them up, especially
the ass-licking, to make her know, for at least a few minutes every day, that she
was still my slave.
Her breasts slowly healed, and after a few weeks were as beautiful as ever;
the whip had, miraculously, left no scars. For a while I was scared that I had
damaged her permanently despite my promise (and intent), and I made up my mind
never to use such a heavy whip on her tits again. Sometime near the end of that
period she made the decision to stay. I knew it when it happened, and not just
because she became more cheerful. When I took her into bed, she would go for my
cock with her mouth, sucking and licking, and then look up and say eagerly,
"Please, sir, may I lick your asshole?" The first time this happened I was too
surprised to say anything, and just nodded dumbly. She went back to my cock,
licking her way down now to my balls, and then went on to my asshole, which she
licked with abandon, pushing her tongue hard into my ass and jerking me off with
her hand. I was so taken aback that I left her in control, and soon came in her
hand. She moved so that she was facing me, and began to lick my cum off her hand,
staring me provocatively in the eyes.
"Was that good, sir?" she asked.
"Oh, very good," I choked out. She reached her hand down to my belly and
rubbed the remaining come on me, then moved down to lick it off.
"Oh sir," she breathed between licks, "please let me suck you. May I suck
you?" Her hand on my balls brought my cock back to life, and I shivered with
pleasure.
"Oh yes," I said. "Suck me, Shannon, suck me." Her mouth engulfed my cock
and she began to move very slowly, teasingly, up and down. She had had a great
deal of practice by now, and her mouth was as soft and enveloping as a cunt. She
continued for a few minutes, then positioned her breasts over my crotch and began
to move up and down, rubbing them on my cock and balls. I was moaning and my hips
were moving up and down, trying to fuck her tits.
"Oh, god," I moaned, "I wanna fuck your tits, Shannon. Give me your tits."
She moved up so that her tits were above my mouth, and spoke again, breathing
nearly as hard as I was.
"Here they are, master. They're yours, suck them." I took a nipple in my
mouth and sucked hard on it, and she gasped. "Oh!" she said, and let her weight
push her tits down on my face. "Bite them, master. Do you want to bite my
tits?" She raised herself up and swung her tits back and forth across my face,
and I caught a nipple in my mouth and bit it. Shannon jerked upward, but came
down again immediately, placing her tit just above my mouth. I bit her nipple
again, harder this time. "Yes, master, yes," she said, her hips thrusting against
my leg, "Bite me, unhhh."
I grabbed her by the shoulders and flipped her over. I started slapping her
tits, first one and then the other. Her hands came up instinctively to protect
them, and I stopped and looked at her. "No," I said, "put them down. Expose
your tits to me." She whispered, "Yes, master," and lowered her arms. I resumed
spanking her tits, which were turning red. She started crying, but kept her arms
down, pressed into the sheets. After a while I stopped, and she spoke again,
her voice hoarse.
"Thank you, master." She buried her head on the pillow next to my shoulder,
still crying, and I put my arm around her, running my hand up and down her back.
In a moment she put her arms around my neck and brought her mouth to my ear, and
her hips resumed their earlier rotating motions.
"Master," she whispered, "would you like to fuck me now?" She began rubbing
herself against me, and took my cock in her hand, stroking and pulling at it. I
rolled on top of her, but did not enter her yet. Instead I took her tits
in my hands and played gently with them. She made a little noise, and I knew they
were sore from her spanking. She said, her hips now thrusting against me, "Oh
yes, oh oh yes, master, oh they hurt, they hurt. Oh, master, will you fuck me?
Please fuck me. Fuck my cunt, master."
"Not yet," I said. "You have to do something for me."
"What?"
"Take my cock in your hand and hold it." She did so, and I continued, "These
tits---whose tits are they?"
"Huh? They're mine."
"No, wrong." I slapped the left one, not hard, and she jerked. "They're
mine. Am I right?"
"Yes, yes, you're right, master, they're yours." She was flushed with
desire, her neck and face almost as red as her tits.
"Then I can do whatever I like with them, right?"
"Yes," she said, panting.
"Even whip them?" I looked directly at her as I said this.
Her face showed her distress as the memory of her recent whipping came back,
but she said, looking me in the eyes, "Yes, master. Even whip them. Oh, master,
ohhh... ."
"Good girl. Good slave." I reached down and put my hand on her crotch.
"Whose cunt is this?"
"Yours. It's yours, master. Please fuck me, master, please."
"Soon." I reached around underneath her and pinched her ass cheek, hard
enough to make her squirm. "Whose ass is this?"
"Ouch! Ohh, it's yours. Please, master fuck me oh god I need it oh shit
oh god oh master... ."
"I will if you answer one more question correctly. Why do you exist,
Shannon?"
She looked distraught. She was shaking with desire, and she knew she
could not answer the question.
"I don't know, I don't know. Please, please, I want it, unhh..." Her hips
were moving up and down in an attempt to fuck the air.
"I'll tell you the answer, Shannon. You exist to give me pleasure."
"Yes, sir, oh yesss..."
"Say it, Shannon: I exist to give my master pleasure."
"I exist to give my master pleasure. Yes. Oh, please!"
"Good girl." I entered her, and we began to move together in the oldest
dance. I gave Shannon an orgasm, and then another, holding myself back. As
she approached her third orgasm, I wrapped my arms around her neck and began
fucking her vigorously, intending to climax when she did. Her body was slippery
with sweat, and her breathing was very loud in my ear. She moaned, and I knew she
was about to come again. As the cum rushed up from my balls I heard her whisper,
so softly that she could not have intended me to hear, "I love you, master. Oh
god, I love you."
She was mine.
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