I crouched down as my hand reached out towards the riding crop. It lay, motionless, at her feet and my eyes remained sharply focussed on the tip of my forefinger as it traced an imaginary line along the length. It paused at the end and calmly stroked the smooth black leather slapper, almost affectionately perhaps, as if it were admiring its potential. 

The outer edges were beautifully decorated with two rows of slightly off white stitching that contrasted well against their background. The slapper end attached neatly to a thin shaft, tightly bound in black leather. It extended for about two feet before widening its form to create a matt black, solid wooden handle.

I took it in my hand, stood up straight and turned to face Victoria. As my eyes scanned over her servile form, I noticed how perfectly my hand moulded around the grip. It was almost as if it had been custom made to suit. 

Her body remained quite still as I began to slowly walk around her. Obscene thoughts flooded through my mind as I deliberated over her acutely submissive stance. It interested me but, moreover, I was, somewhat, taken aback as to how well she had prepared, not to mention her close attention to detail. After completing a full circle, I stood and faced her, gently tapping the riding crop against my right leg as I stared hard into her eyes.

“Do you honestly believe that I have a choice, Victoria? Do you think that I should simply ignore that, from the moment you met me at the station, you have done nothing but behave like a complete slut.  Not only do you dress like a cheap whore, you deliberately encourage complete strangers to look up your skirt. You show off your arse and you stand around, pretending that you aren’t aware of an untold number of men openly leering at your nipples as they force against your T-shirt. You’re just a fucking slut, aren’t you?” I said, raising my arm and re-positioning the riding crop between her legs.

“I was... I mean... I thought that you would like my new skirt. I wore it just for you, James,” she replied, trying desperately to remain still as I pressed the crop’s shaft hard against her cunt. 

As it began to slide back and forth, pushing deep between her hidden folds, her hips rocked, albeit barely noticeably, against its motion as she discreetly attempted to further its effect. 

“And you really expect me to believe that, do you? Stand still, you lying bitch! Do you know what happens to sluts like you, sluts that get off by exposing themselves in public places? Imagining all those hard cocks, fantasising about being fucked by someone they don’t even know? Well, do you?” I asked as I adjusted the crop’s position so that its slapper end now rested squarely on the outline of her pierced clit. 

The crop’s shaft began to flex, arching beautifully as I slowly increased the upward force at its end. The constant pressure from the stiff slapper between her legs built steadily until the point was reached where her body resigned to the inevitable. As she began to lurch forwards, she widened her stance before rising, uneasily, up onto her toes. With her head bowed as she struggled to maintain her balance, I reached out to steady her, taking a firm hold of her chin.  

“Look at me, slut. Head up, up I said, lift it right up,” I coldly instructed her as my grip encouraged her jaw upwards. 

Keeping her arms tightly folded behind her back, she forced her head up as high as she could possibly manage. The tension on the chain that looped through the ring on her collar pulled hard and, in turn, increased the pressure to the clamps that squeezed her nipples. As they pulled harshly upwards, my face drew closer. 

“Well, I’m waiting, bitch. What happens to whores like you? Or perhaps, I should ask, what do sluts as openly depraved as you want to happen?” I continued in a somewhat, patronising manner as the end of the crop began tapping lightly against the outline of her clit ring. 

“I just... I need the... please, use your crop, now, James, on my clit, oh please,” she begged as my hand forced her chin a little higher.

“What are you? Tell me, the truth, Victoria,” I added as the crop began tapping faster and with more aggression before, once again, resuming its steady and exacting load on her clitoris. 

“Oh fuck, please, I know, I’m a whore, ok? Please, James, the crop. James, please?” she gushed whilst urgently thrusting her hips towards me in the hope that it would afford the crop easier access. 

“Again, tell me again, what are you?” I insisted, endeavouring to prolong, if only for a brief moment longer, her gloriously submissive state.     

“I’m just... I’m just cheap, oh please, James. I can’t help it, I... I like being a slut, I mean, I can’t be anything else. That’s what I am, just a slut,” she panted, almost animal-like, as her eyes fixed slavishly upon the outline of my cock. 

I looked down to my crotch, and in particular, to the large damp patch that now encircled my flies. Tiny spasms shot and pulsed through my cock that was, by now, almost certainly engulfed by a steady flow of pre-cum, something that her behaviour always guaranteed. 

My attention returned to the adorable slut standing before me. Allowing the end of the crop to drop down to almost knee height, I paused, momentarily, letting it hover, somewhat menacingly, as my mind absorbed the extremity of her heightened state. 

“Do you want it to hurt?” I asked her, knowing full well that was exactly what she wanted.

“Oh god, yes, James, please, you know, I deserve it. Please, James, now,” she whimpered as she fought to keep her balance.

“Where do you want it? Just there, perhaps?” I added, releasing her chin before reaching down and taking her ringed clitoris between my thumb and forefinger. 

My fingers pinched hard and my hand jerked about purposefully as I watched her tension grow.

“Where?” I repeated impatiently, pinching with more severity so that her legs began, noticeably, to shudder.

“My cunt, oh please, you bastard, smack it, make it red, use it on me, teach me,” she cried as I pulled my hand down abruptly before letting go. 

I moved my hand away to make way for the crop as it whipped up sharply through the air before the leather slapper completed an initial strike on her piercing. Victoria’s body jolted violently and her hips, momentarily, retreated before she quickly thrust them back into position. A crisp, dense crack resonated through the room as the leather slapper struck its target for the second time and then a third. Its cruel assault continued, each blow becoming harder until her legs finally began to buckle as her first orgasm erupted, ripping viciously through her entire frame. 

Her head jerked back close to its limit, forcing my hand to snap briefly from her jaw as her nipples stretched savagely against the clamps. A sordid trail of barely coherent expletives spewed, perhaps in acknowledgement, from her trembling lips as I quickly re-captured her jaw. Roughly turning her head so that she came to face me, I pulled her a little closer.

Unable to hide my smile as I examined the irregular streaks of tear mixed mascara that rolled across her flushed cheeks, I placed a kiss on her forehead before releasing her chin and gently easing her down as she slumped to the floor. Glancing, fleetingly, towards the crop, I felt safe in assuming that it had successfully completed its maiden task of correction!         

Sitting at my feet, she looked up, smiling weakly as her arms reached out,  beckoning me to help her to her feet. We both knew full well, however, that there was a far better way. I briskly pushed her arms away and grabbed hold of her hair in my left hand before sharply pulling her up. My grip remained tight as I repositioned her face, enabling me to place the crop comfortably between her open lips. I held it there briefly as she bit gently onto its shaft before my arm dropped and moved round to her arse.

“Filthy little cunt, you only cum when I tell you, you only suck when I tell you and you only fuck when I tell you, do you understand, bitch? Do you?” I said, trying desperately not to smile back at her.

“Yes, James, I promise... I promise I won’t do it again,” she replied in her sweetest girly voice.

As my hand roughly knead her fleshy cheeks, the other, still tightly clenching her hair, pulled sharply, forcing her head back once more. She remained mostly silent, apart from a small number of appreciative moans as the increased tension on the chain, once again, transferred its force to her swollen nipples.  

My palm landed hard and, unexpectedly, on her left buttock. She squealed sharply, her arse reeling, frantically, from left to right as my hand trailed up her spine before pausing, momentarily, on her left shoulder. Its journey quickly resumed, dragging and pushing sadistically across her inflamed nipples before sliding down past her navel. Its sense of urgency appeared to rise as it slipped below the front of her knickers and pushed, a short way, over her smooth mound. 

My fingers toyed with her swollen clitoris for some time, pulling occasionally on her piercing, as I watched her eyes roll towards the back of her head. I listened to her increasingly sordid language before pushing a little further back and plunging two fingers deep into her soaking cunt. 

“Pull your arse cheeks apart,” I instructed her, finally letting go of her hair and positioning my arm behind her so as to cradle her back.

She obediently unfolded her arms and reached down to her buttocks as my fingers slipped from her sex and began inching their way back. Her warm damp knickers clung enticingly to the back of my hand as it stopped just short of her delicately puckered opening. 

I dragged and pushed two fingers back and forth over her magical entrance, gradually increasing their upward pressure until she yelped, albeit very briefly, as her arse hole greedily pulled both digits rapidly into its depths. Her depraved girly moans grew louder as she began to ride. With her teeth clenched tightly on the shaft of the crop, her hips rocked and twisted rhythmically on my fingers, encouraging them to delve a little deeper. 

Our coupling remained this way for a short while until, without any prior warning, she released her grip on her arse cheeks. Her arms flew round, outstretched and almost bird-like, as she reached towards me before throwing them around my neck. With the help of my arm behind her back, she jumped up, whilst simultaneously releasing her bite on the crop and leaving it to tumble to the floor. 

“That’s it, baby slut, up you come,” I said softly as her legs clamped hard around my waist.

Our noses touched briefly before our lips united and our tongues began to play their own part in our elaborate mating ritual. 

“I really... I fucking love you, gorgeous bastard, you, that’s what... oh fuck, oh my god,” she gasped, as our mouths parted and I turned to move. 

I walked slowly towards the end of the bed, bouncing my little fuck doll up and down as my fingers continued to drive in and out of her sweet little arse. God, It felt so gorgeous. In fact, all of her was gorgeous!

She let her arms fall from my neck and flopped back onto the bed whilst trying to drag me on top of her with her legs that remained tightly wrapped around my waist.  

With her vice-like grip on my fingers relenting, however, they slid free, allowing me to reach round and take a firm hold of each of her ankles. She looked up at me, smiling, somewhat, smugly as I struggled against her youthful strength before finally freeing her legs, forcing them apart and pushing them to her sides.  

With her feet now spread wide apart and positioned somewhere just above her head, she reached for her knickers. Her fingers worked quickly as she pulled them down until they stretched tightly between her legs and just above her knees. Her hands then moved behind her knees as she strained hard, forcing her legs to stretch back a little more. Her legs remained in that position, obscenely spread wide whilst rendering her totally defenceless and shamelessly exposed. 

“My God, you look so fucking good, just a dirty little fuck toy, aren’t you? Tell me, what do you want? I want to hear you say it, go on, say it, tell me everything, Victoria,” I encouraged her as I studied the welts that the crop had made on her naked folds.  

“You know, I mean... please, James, please, your cock, show me, oh fuck. I need cock, please, I don’t care whose...” she replied despairingly before I cut her short.

“You don’t care whose... whose what? I yelled, pretending to be shocked. 

“I .. it meant nothing, I mean... oh shit, please. James, please,” she pleaded frantically, feeling suddenly confused and worried. 

“You fucking whore, I know what you meant, you bitch! You don’t care, do you? So long as you get fucked, as long as someone’s cock is using your filthy arse, smashing into your cunt or filling that slutty mouth, that’s what you meant, isn’t it?” I growled back, hurriedly unbuttoning my jeans.

Her eyes locked onto my groin as my jeans dropped to the floor, finally exposing my smooth circumcised cock as it sprung forward. Quickly dismissing any worries she may have had, she gasped briefly, as if in appreciation, before biting down on her lower lip as she began to pant and moan. As her depraved imagination increased its control of her mind, the corner of her mouth curled slightly upwards.

She pulled harder on her legs and her cute arse hole, once again began to flex, as if it were relaying a coded message; an open invitation, perhaps? I smiled inwardly as I kicked my jeans to one side and knelt on the bed at her side. The night was still young and we had all the time in the world.