For a refresher, please read here: Caravan Cravings
I’ve handed him my formal invitation, written in my best penmanship and se
aled, naturally, with a kiss. It’s cold tonight, but I’ve been keeping my caravan warm and toasty with the brazier for hours and I have a lovely campfire going as well. Nonetheless, the nip in the air will certainly add a bite to our routine. I’m in place when he steps through the clearing, and so I place my hands on the steps and bend over, my feet wide. He has already cut an peeled a switch in anticipation of coming. Five times he marks my cold skin with his switch, each sting sure to raise a red welt. I cry out, knowing he enjoys the sound, but also because there is no warm up and each stroke is like fire. I’m dripping with anticipation by the time he lays the fith stroke on me. Then, he’s inside of me, fucking me hard, mercilessly. This is not about pleasure, but primal need. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me deeper against him. Moments later, he spills himself into me. I love when he comes so quickly. I can actually feel the heat of his cream searing a path of pleasure through my body. He steps back and I drop to the frozen ground. I open my mouth and lick our combined juices from his semi flaccid cock. After a few minutes, he steps back again and holds out his hand. “Let’s get inside before you freeze.” As a concession to the weather, he allows me to keep my dress, shawl, and shoes on until we are inside. As soon as the door closes, though, I strip out of everything. I will not again wear clothing until I leave this caravan. If I need to pee, I will do so in the chamber pot and toss it out the door or I must go outside naked. With a low temperature of 35 tonight, I’ll be using the chamber pot. I hate this, but Milord enjoys my humiliation. He too strips out of his clothing then sits on a chair. He pats his lap and I lie in position. “I’m not finished with this ass yet,” he tells me. He then proceeds to use his hand and spanks me until I’m squirming an crying. My tears won’t stop him, nor do I want them to. I adore when he takes my power and uses me as he wishes. He’s punishing me, scolding me for being such a tease, for not issuing an invitation sooner, for invading his mind an distracting him from his work. I admit to it all and take my punishment like a good submissive woman. He pauses and inserts first one then two fingers inside of my pussy, still wet with his cum and my juices. He finger fucks me until I come, screaming his name. Then, he pushes his thumb into my ass and continues this delicious torture. “You’re getting my leg all wet,” he says. “And you’ve gotten me hard again. Looks like I’m not finished punishing you.” He wrapps his free arm around my middle, keeping his fingers inside of me and lifts me, face down, to the nearby bed. “Please, please,” I beg. “Please what? What do you want? What do you need?” He makes me beg, makes me say exactly what I want. This, perhaps, is the greatest humiliation of all. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to use me for your pleasure and mine,” I murmur quietly. He pulls his fingers from me, spreads my legs and gives my pussy a hard slap. I scream and repeat my wors more loudly this time. “And where do you want me to fuck you?” he asks. “Wherever you choose,” I answer. I feel the bed shift and he’s kneeling between my legs. He lifts up on my hips, forcing my ass in the air. Again he slaps my pussy and I scream. “Be specific,” he says. “My ass. Fuck my ass. Make me burn,” I shout.
“I just came, so it will be long and hard and merciless,” he warns.
“You’ll not be able to walk well tomorrow. That’s what you need isn’t it?” He plunges balls deep into my loosened ass. I clench the sheet with my hands and cry out. “You need to used, don’t you?”
“Yes, Milord. Yes.”