Fantasies of a Young Dominatrix - Sex Stories

Fantasies of a Young Dominatrix

... more because she's been so much trouble."

I took what she dished out, and then she put her tool on a nearby table. "All right, untie her." When that was done, she addressed me. "Now get the fuck up."

I slid backwards, but when I tried to stand up, I fell to my knees. Two of the women quickly grabbed me, pulled me up, and kept me steady.

There was no corner time, but the guards did comment on the damage they had inflicted on me. The head one said. "You're definitely purple now, honey. In this place, we get down deep into the backsides of bad girls like you."

Another said. "This is one girl who is going to be more careful when peddling what used to be her pale little bottom. And on a college campus, where she's a student no less! I've never heard of such a shameful thing."

The third one said, "It's amazing how young some of these little whores are."

"Yes, a student hooker. You should be attending to your studies, not selling blowjobs in the men's room."

At that point, I was struggling to get my clothes back together. When I was done, the head guard said, "You're free to go now. Keep in mind that the first three offenses don't go on, let's call it your permanent record. But we will still keep track of you, and the second and third arrests will result in the same punishment you just got. And, God help you, for the fourth one -- and we do get quite a few of those -- well, you don't want to know what that will be like."

She gave me a tube of lotion I ...

... could apply to my burning hindquarters in the ladies' room down the hall. On my way out of the room, I passed the next girl coming in for her discipline. She was a nervous- looking Latina, and when she saw the expression on my face and the copious tears I was shedding, she was doubly shocked.

It was impossible to apply the lotion. I was groaning merely trying to touch myself and rub it in. There was no mirror in there -- probably on purpose -- for me to examine the state of my bottom.

I was hobbling as I left the building and entered the street. There was a bench in the park across Centre Street, but I had to sit sidesaddle when I tried to use it.

Then I remembered to check my purse. It was amazing, but the Department of Corrections gave your possessions and money back to you when they were done. That week had been a profitable one. I had turned two successful tricks, and I still had more than fifty dollars on me. It was more than enough to pay for a cab to Maspeth in Queens.

That was a Godsend. Otherwise, I'd be standing on the subway and then the bus handing onto the bars whether there were any seats or not.

Of course, I had to sit sidesaddle in a taxi too, but the drivers had seen all sorts of weird behavior and that one didn't mention it at all. He must have known what had happened to me from the way I was dressed and from the location where he picked me up. What happened in the jails was not a secret. In fact, the city and state made sure to boast about ...