A Taste of Cherie - Sex Stories

A Taste of Cherie

... her though, she weighs almost nothing. She gurgles happily.

Her body never stops moving. Her shoulders are caught in an unending struggle to redistribute her weight, and her hips sway constantly. She occasionally gives them a seductive wiggle, just because. The slightest glimpse of the switch and paddle elicits an excited gasp from her lips.

I don't start with pain, but with a caress. Every part of her body must be touched: her neck, her pointy elven ears, her shoulders and hair. My fingers trace the curve of her back down to her buttocks, and then down her legs. My touch on the inside of her thighs is somewhere between a grope and a caress; she quivers as her king explores his kingdom. Her hairs stand on end as I touch her calves and her ankles. Even her feet are soft and tender. All across her body, a symphony of muscle keeps her in balance, as she strains to keep her pelvis at the height demanded by the hook.

The paddle comes next. It's a humiliating punishment, delivered to her buttocks as if to a wayward student. It's a heavier pain than the switch, and makes a more satisfying sound. I don't alternate cheeks; that would be too easy. Ten on the right, ten on the left. I pause, and she gives her derriere a helpful wiggle, reminding me exactly where to strike. Ten on the left, ten on the right. She whines softly. Then one more round. It's the price she pays for being so insanely hot.

Now she's ready to be switched—I can tell by the pussy juice running down the ...

... inside of her thigh. She's also shaking slightly, and her buttocks are cherry red. The switch I'm using tonight is made of bamboo, lightweight, slender, and pinches her skin if it hits just right. Obviously, she hates and loves it for all the same reasons. It comes to a fairly sharp point, too. I prod each of her buttocks, poking the stick in sharply and then watching them jiggle softly as I pull it away. Then I slowly run its length between her labia. It's wet now.

"I don't remember Roxanne looking this cute," I tease, striking the back of her calves with the switch. She giggles through her gag, while the blows start to move higher, over her thighs. I give a quick strike on each buttock, and then start from the bottom again. I run my fingers over the curves of her left leg, while striking her right leg sharply. She sighs under my worshipful touch, and then gasps slightly as the blows strike the insides of her thighs. I do this once more, on opposite legs. I make sure it hurts, too. Now I run the switch across her body, over her back and buttocks and between her legs. She knows her beating will resume—but when? The switch slides over her vulva and is yanked away suddenly; she flinches. The strike arrives a second later than expected, after her muscles relax. She wails. I continue to caress her, showing with my hands exactly how much beauty I find in the contour of her buttocks and thighs. The switch teaches her, too, of her own vulnerability. I pepper her buttocks with a ...