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Punish Me, Please: Slavery For Sheila

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Punish Me, Please: Slavery For Sheila by Reese Gabriel

The beautiful Sheila is sought after by many men; but her erotic dreams lie in a different direction. She wants a lover who will strip her naked, lock a collar on her throat, and make her his submissive. All day long she fantasizes about her domineering, darkly handsome boss, Jeremy Stone. Little does the shapely redhead realize that Stone is a professional who has already guessed her secret desires.

Stone's secretaries have disappeared before, and no one asks why. Now it is Sheila's turn. Taking her to dinner, Stone introduces her to the world of submission she has craved. From the moment he demands she take off her panties right there at the table, she is his. One humiliation follows another, and before long, Sheila is naked in an alley, begging to be whipped to her most sensitive places. Stone takes her home, cuffed, in the trunk of his limo. And so begins Sheila's training. She leads a double life, serving as his secretary while also servicing his brutal associates who make use of her as a receptacle in every conceivable way. The slightest lapse on Sheila's part leads to cagings and beatings.

Sheila had wanted a Master to love her, but Stone has promised only to use her up and sell her to a cheap brothel. Her one hope is Johnny, a handsome young executive who loves her and who seems to have an interest in domination himself. Will Johnny win her from Stone or is it too late for Sheila? The clock is ticking as Stone locks her away in his penthouse, confining her in a leather hood and reducing her to a sensorially deprived pet and slut of the highest order.

Another hard-hitting and creative S&M read from best-selling author, Reese Gabriel. This wild fantasy includes in its graphic content, bondage, CP, gags, cuffs collars, clamps, weights, submissive training, golden showers, humiliation and sex.

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Punishment. Sheila rubbed her thighs together under the desk in anticipation. She was settling in for a go at one of her favorite fantasies, her fingers obliviously typing away, a million miles away on company business.
The star, as always, was the sexy, charismatic and aloof Mr. Stone, her boss. He took many roles in her imagination, but always he was strong and dominant, disciplining her bare ass and ultimately using her for his perverted pleasures.
In this particular fantasy, Sheila was a young housewife, standing at the living room window, watching anxiously for her husband to pull up the drive after a long day’s work.
She was quite nervous, because he would be home any minute, and she had been a very bad girl today. She hadn’t retrieved his laundry from the cleaners as he had asked, she had done no chores about the house, and she had also cooked a dish with curry for supper, a spice he detested.
Her only hope was to appease him sexually. As a greeting outfit, she had chosen to wear nothing but a red silk bra and panties and a pair of spikey open-toed heels.
“Hi, baby,” she attempted to throw herself at him as soon as he came in the door, her voice soft and sweet. “I missed you so much. I’m so horny.”
She had hoped the sight of her available body would put her tall, dark and handsome husband in a good mood right off the bat, but instead, it only served to anger him.
Blue eyed and iron-willed, Mr. Stone, the newlywed husband, held her at bay not allowing her to touch him. “Do you want the whole neighborhood to see you like this?” he chided drawing the drapes. “Don’t you have any morals, Sheila? Or do you want to attract every hard cock in the vicinity?”
She hung her head. She hadn’t thought about how anyone passing by could see her, looking so hot and slutty, and now that she realized, she felt deeply ashamed. And even more in trouble to boot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” she said.
“This is what I get for letting you run around unchained.” He sniffed the air. A frown came over his chiseled, rugged face as he smelt the strong odor of spice. “Curry,” he accused.
“It’s a new recipe I wanted to try...”
“The only thing you’ll be trying is bed without supper,” he said crossly. “Go and get your chore list. I want to have a look.”
She brought it, like a school girl, shuffling her feet.
“Nothing,” he declared, noting the complete lack of check marks next to the items on the small piece of paper he had given her this morning. “You’ve done nothing at all, Sheila.”
“I can explain.”
“Let me see your nails.”
She swallowed, holding them out, pretty and bright, fire engine red.
“You have had them painted again, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “That’s why I couldn’t do anything else today.”
He crumpled up the list and tossed it on the floor. “I ought to make you eat that.”
“Please don’t,” she said meekly. What else could she do except stand before him, quivering and wheedling? He was so much stronger than her. He looked like a tiger, ready to pounce. “Please, don’t make me eat the paper.”
His expression was one of pure disdain. “You know this behavior of yours won’t stand, don’t you?”
“Yes...” Her heart thudded in her chest. There was only one thing she knew to do in cases like this. Sink to her knees and try to please him with her servile mouth. “May I suck you to make up for it?”
His eyes darkened, indicating she was crossing the line...again. “Sucking me is a privilege, young lady, not a penalty.”
“Yes,” she managed, palms sweating, body aching with unmet need. “Forgive me.”
He raised a brow. His face was set in that way she knew would allow for no turning back. “Forgive me, what?”
“Forgive me, Sir,” she croaked.
“Do you think you have earned the privilege of sucking my cock, little Sheila?”
“No, Sir.”
“What needs to happen next instead?”
Sheila’s nipples tightened into hard buds under the skimpy bra in anticipation of the words she must say. Between her thighs, the dampness increased to a slow trickle of juices.
It would soon be more, much more.
I need...punishment, Sir.”
“Speak up, Sheila, look me in the eye.”
She did so humiliated...and totally aroused. “I need punishment, Sir.”
“I...I’ve done wrong, Sir.”
“You’ve been a naughty girl, that’s what you’ve been.”
“Yes, Sir,” her cheeks turned to fire, matching her belly. “I’ve been a naughty girl.”
“Beg for it,” he commanded. “Beg for punishment. On your ass.”
She swooned. “P—please,” she whispered. “Punish me...punish my ass, Sir.”
His face radiated pure and confident male power. There was no doubting he had what it took to discipline her. It was going to happen, no turning back. “The belt, Sheila.”
She knew she must do this next part herself. It was a key part of every fantasy, and she had dreamed of it a million times and in a million ways over the years. The face and body of the man varying, but always the same common denominator. Strength. Domination. Humiliation.
The very touch of leather, the cold metal of the buckle made her knees turn to rubber as she proceeded. Her fingers tremble.
“You’ve had your toenails done, too, my naughty little Sheila.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“How much did it cost?”
She named an outrageous figure.
“You’ll make that amount up,” he told her. “Your allowance is suspended. You may also consider yourself on activity restriction. I will personally approve everything you do the rest of the week. Perhaps that will teach you not to abuse your freedom.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” She wanted to be taken, to be thrown down on the floor; he was being so masterful, putting her in her place, like a cherished but willful little pet.
The belt buckle released in her hands. She shivered. It was her task to pull it from the loops, to offer it to him. He was standing so close; his breath on her neck. She wanted to be touched, reassured. She marveled at his self-control, and the power he radiated. He would use her all right but on his terms.

Artist Credit

(c) Ludovic Goubet www.ludovicgoubet.com

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