The Venn Diagram

by Margaret Jane

"You know, I have absolutely no idea where we fit in this scene."

"Does it really matter?" he asked.

She considered him, he didn’t seem at all concerned by her new found fascination in spanking websites.

He was supremely confident in himself, knew what he wanted, usually got it and didn’t give a damn how others classified him.

"I suppose not." she said "It’s just that we don’t fit anywhere and you know me, I like to fit somewhere."

"And how many times have I had to beat you severely for obsessing about things you’ve no control over?"

He grinned at her and ran his hands through her hair.

"And how often have I deliberately provoked you to it?"

She grinned back, turning slightly to kiss the palm of his hand. He caressed the side of her face.

She shifted in her chair to give him access to her breasts and he slipped his hands inside her shirt and began to roll her nipples causing her to squirm and she relaxed back against him, thrusting her breasts further forward. She knew that soon he’d begin to hurt her nipples severely and that would quickly develop into a spanking and if she was lucky a caning.

Suddenly she stopped him by clamping her hands over his.

"No, let’s do something different." He froze.

"Are you giving me an order Madam?"

She hadn’t been expecting that response - certainly not that he would call her ‘madam’. She hesitated, already regretting her boldness.

"No, no, it’s just….." again she hesitated.

"I apologise if I’m boring you Blanche." he said, withdrawing his hands from inside her clothes.

"You’re not, you’re not love, please…….."

His whole attitude had changed, he seemed taller and graver than she’d known him. He was displaying a coldness towards her she couldn’t bear and she quailed before this unexpected harshness.

"So, you want something different?" he regarded her severely. "Something you’ve read about on one of your websites?"

"No, honestly pet, I’m sorry." She was trying to back pedal furiously.

The sneering look on his face scared her, but then maybe fear was what she wanted. He was in no mood to forgive her.

"I’ve put up with you sitting in front of that laptop for weeks. And it stops now."

He was standing in front of her. He leant forward and pressed her shoulders back so she was firmly crushed into the chair.

"So Madam wants something different, does she?" he mocked.

She shook her head from side to side, almost in despair but couldn’t find the voice to reply.

"What? Cat got your tongue? You, who is usually so voluble?"

She shook her head more violently. She wanted to plead but wasn’t sure exactly how to handle this situation she’d created.

He moved back, releasing her shoulders and turned away from her.

"Get up" came his terse command.

But she drew her knees up and circled them with her arms, protecting herself from him. When he turned round and saw her position he acted immediately. Striding to the back of the chair he tipped it up and she landed unceremoniously on the floor. Before she knew what was happening he had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and dragged her towards the windows. He dumped her on the carpet. Yanking the tie from round his neck he looped it over the curtain rail, dragged her up by her hair and swiftly secured her wrists. She was elongated on tip toes.

"Stop it Richard, please, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again." she gasped.

He humphed "Oh I don’t think so my dear." He began unzipping her skirt. "Surely this is what you wanted? Am I not being dom enough for you? Is this sadistic enough for you? Or is it just part of CP? Which nice little category does this fit into?"

He pulled her skirt down and she felt it pool at her feet. His hands slipped into her tights and knickers and pulled them down to.

"Please Richard, please let me down. I’m not enjoying this."

"Oh, is the little diddums not enjoying herself." He taunted. "Well I haven’t been enjoying your absence of an evening when you’ve been playing on the net. Step out of your clothes."

She was strung up so highly that she had to step delicately one foot at a time. She was naked from the waist down. She heard him leave the room and she began to twist at her wrists - but he had tied his knot very well. Her body was shaking and she was terrified of what he’d do now she had provoked him past endurance.

It didn’t take him long to return.

"Spread your legs as wide as you can." When she didn’t comply immediately she felt the blaze of a hot stroke across her backside. He showed her a riding crop. "Spread your legs Blanche, or I’ll crop you until you do." Just to show her he was in earnest she received another wicked swipe.

In her prone position she had nowhere to go. Knowing her buttocks were at his mercy she struggled to obey him. It wasn’t easy, if she moved her legs too far apart she was right on her big toes alone and that was an unsustainable position.

Unexpectedly he thrust a finger inside her. "Just as I thought." he said, "Dripping." He withdrew his hand. She was at a serious disadvantage, he moved around behind her. She tensed and then squealed as he inserted a vibrator into her sex and turned it on. "Don’t come Blanche. I’m watching you."

This was torture, her incredibly vulnerable position meant she could do nothing to protect herself. Against every conscious desire of her head, her body was responding. She could feel the orgasm building but the vibrator wasn’t touching her clitoris. Suddenly Richard withdrew the first vibrator and inserted a rampant rabbit. The devilish ears were directly applied to her clitoris this time. "Blanche." he murmured threateningly "Don’t come."

But this was impossible - her hips began to snap automatically and she felt herself suspend her whole weight from the curtain pole as her feet left the ground and the orgasm overtook her and she shuddered into a climax that left her limp.

Before the spasms had faded he applied the crop six times in rapid succession and she squealed. Each stroke was like a streak of white hot pain across her still contracting buttocks and she again jerked her feet off the ground and almost found herself swinging by her wrists.

Once her feet hit the floor again he crudely thrust the crop, handle first, into her. Holding her chin firmly he waited until she was completely still. He removed the crop.

"Now I’m going to let you down." and he untied the knot and she semi collapsed such was the state of her distress. She reached a hand round and ran it along one of the welts he had left.

He saw her do this and laughed cruelly "Oh there will be many more of those before this little play session is over. That’s what you want isn’t it? Lots of lovely bruises?"

He tugged her to her feet and half pushed half pulled her back towards her chair. "Let’s disrobe your top half too." And he pulled her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra.

"Up you get Blanche. Kneel on the arms of the chair. Yes, with your legs spread. Rest your chin on the back of the chair."

Blanche was splayed wide open to him. It was a large padded arm chair so her knees were relatively comfortable at the moment but her sex was split and vulnerable as was her backside. There were any number of ways he could punish her in this position.

"Enjoying yourself yet?" he asked, coming to stand behind the chair and stare directly into her face.

She looked at him tearfully, her lip trembling.

"But Blanche, this is what happens on your websites isn’t it? This is how bad little girls are treated. Maybe fantasy surpasses reality? Let’s find out shall we?"

He moved behind her again. She felt something between her legs and involuntarily contracted her muscles. She thought it was a cane and he teased it between her sex lips which were still swollen from her previous orgasm.

Just a suddenly he withdrew the implement. Blanche heard him settle down in the adjacent chair and turn on the news. He said nothing but she knew he could see her and was watching.

Blanche regretted her rebellion. She knew he had a level of ingenuity that could leave her very sorry indeed. She had no choice but to remain still in the hope that her obedience would earn her some leniency.

She tried to concentrate on the news bulletin but her mind kept returning to her punishment - because she knew it was far from over. She drifted off to the original prompting for her sedition. So what was this then? Here she was with a well striped backside, naked and kneeling silently on a chair. Where did this fall on the spectrum? And he was right - did it matter? She still couldn’t match it to a definition.

Richard considered Blanche. He was not pleased with her and he intended to demonstrate that to her quite forcefully. He enjoyed thrashing her for her own pleasure and his and this time she might respond physically but she would be sore and sorry by the end too.

He would cure her of this internet curiosity and put an end to this obsession with ascribing a label to their relationship.

He picked up a large wooden paddle, just the implement for her current position. He gave her no warning and the paddle smacked her hard. The chair was large enough and her legs spread wide enough to allow him an upward swing so he was walloping her almost between her legs and punishing severely the most tender part of her behind. He could see and hear her struggling. Her thigh muscles strained and she was pressing her mouth into the chair back, almost biting it, to stop herself screaming aloud. Her hands gripped firmly and her back arched. He gave her a dozen hard punishing blows.

Saying nothing he returned to his seat to watch the end of the news. He watched her grapple with herself to remain still. She made no protest over his actions and he smiled grimly.

As the news ended he wound her hair in his hand and pulled her up. He positioned her in the corner of the room and gently placed her hands on her head. He went to the bathroom and ran a bath. Returning to the living room he issued his instructions.

"I’m going to have a bath. You will stand there for 20 minutes. I’ve set the alarm, when it goes off you will come up to the bathroom."

He knew she would obey him and not move. And indeed, Blanche remained quiescently in her corner until the alarm went off. Afterwards she could not have told you what she had thought about, she had drifted away on a haze of pleasure and pain.

She climbed the stairs to find Richard in the bath. She stood looking down at him and was slightly surprised to hear the command "Wash me!" She soaped the sponge and began at his feet, cleaning every inch of him. By the time she’d finished he had an erection and stepping from the water he instructed her to wrap a towel around him. He went to the bedroom and laid down on the bed on his back. He closed his eyes and simply said, "Pleasure me." She thought for a nanosecond and then straddled him, sliding easily down the length of his shaft. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her and sighing contentedly he made her work to bring him to orgasm. All the time his eyes were closed and Blanche found this lack of contact with him difficult to bear. He was still angry with her and she knew it. Not so angry that he didn’t come within minutes of her mounting him though!

Coldly and still without opening his eyes he said "Back downstairs and into your corner again. Hands on head. I’ll be with you in due course."

Blanche positioned herself this time and wondered how long she would have to wait. It was quite a while. The central heating clicked off and the room was growing chilly, her nipples began to stand out and just as her teeth began to chatter a bit, he returned.

Blanche felt an almighty wallop on her backside, he’d brought one of his bedroom slippers with him. She cried out loud. The blows rained down and she lost count. He usually slippered her over his knee and caressed her lovingly but this was different. He wanted to hurt her, to take out his temper on her, to punish her until she was obedient to his will.

Blanche didn’t dare remove her hands from her head but she was near to breaking point and if he didn’t stop soon…………

He gave her more than she ever thought she could bear, her arse felt huge and on fire. Pain suffused her and made her malleable to his whim. Finally he stopped slippering her but did not release her from her position. He pressed himself up against her back and she could feel another erection straining against her glowing buttocks.

"Come to any conclusions then?" he asked.

"No, Sir."

"Really?" he said in a sardonic tone. "No blinding revelations whilst I was smacking your arse?"

He paused for her to reply, she said nothing because she had nothing to say.

"Give it up Blanche, enjoy what we’ve got, life’s too short to be worried about labelling us. Do you agree?"

She was still facing the wall.

"Yes, Sir, I do" she replied meekly.

"Good girl, come and sit on my lap" and he walked towards the sofa.

Finally she was back in his good books and she snuggled up to him and nuzzled his neck.

"May I make an observation Sir?" she requested.

"Of course you can, my love." he replied, amused.

"There is no label that applies to what we’ve got. We are unique. We’re the highly coloured bit at the centre of a complex Venn Diagram. Lots of overlapping layers that are just ours."

"How very astute of you my dear." he replied "And I think that little bit in the middle is coloured cherry red - very much like your arse at the moment."

And so saying, he kissed her deeply because he worshiped her as much as she worshiped him.