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The Summers Drive: 'Punish' Betsy
🕑 Added 2020-02-16 18:00:03 +0000 UTC“Betsy,” Scott said hoarsely, “that’s my shirt.”
Her almond eyes glowed as Betsy stripped off the garment, the only clothes she wore, managing the peculiar trick of conveying the excitement of following his orders while making it clear she had only been given permission to do as she enthusiastically wanted. That, more than anything else, stuck in Emma and Jean’s craw.
“Now, wait just a minute,” Jean began, face flushed and a little sweaty. “I never said you couldn’t spank me…”
Emma was more direct, running a hand between her naked breasts and turning her whole body into a display of challenging insouciance. “So you’re not going to punish me? No matter how much of a bad girl I’ve been? I thought you were ready to be a daddy…”
Naked, displaying a justified pride in her perfect body, Betsy pushed past both of them to go to Scott. With even more directness than Emma, she wrapped her fingers around his cockhead, running them down from his glans to the base of his prick, then letting them trace over his hairy balls.
“Taking this John Thomas hurts too good to be a punishment,” she cooed.
Scott took her by the wrist and gently twisted her hand away, making it clear that no matter how skillful she was, he would be calling the shots. He pulled her body against his, smashing his lips to hers. Her tongue darted into his mouth and she moaned as it was sucked on.
“Well, it’s a good start,” Emma said snidely, glancing at Jean in actual commiseration. She ran a finger along Betsy’s bare back. “But it’s high time for us to join in.”
Jean smirked naughtily as she reached down to cup Betsy’s ass. “Yes… we know all about being punished by that ‘John Thomas’… we’ll show you how it’s done.”
Still kissing Scott, Betsy’s hands lashed up, two psi-blades glowing purple as she drove them into Jean and Emma’s skulls. The two women let out undignified grunts as they went down semiconscious. Scott reached past Betsy to grab them both, his hands collaring their throats, and he gently lowered the two to the kitchen’s linoleum tile.
“Was that really necessary?” he asked.
Betsy smirked. “You know all my psi-blades do is disrupt brain functions an eensy bit. They’ll be fine. But it wouldn’t be a punishment if they got to do more than watch.”
Grinning wickedly, she toed Emma so that the blonde laid against the kitchen island, upright and staring blankly ahead. Another kick and Jean was doing the same.
“Still,” Scott persisted, ever the peacemaker, “psi-bolts seem a bit much for the bedroom.”
“We’re not in the bedroom,” Betsy pointed out. “And I don’t think two members of the Hellfire Club have room to complain about a little kink. They can still hear and see everything we do—they can even get turned on—they just can’t do anything about it. I think that’s a pretty big incentive to be a good girl, don’t you?”
“I think you just want me all to yourself.”
Betsy raised an eyebrow. “Maybe.” She went to the kitchen nook, sitting down on the little table in full view of the paralyzed Jean and Emma. Teasingly, she crossed her long slender legs in front of them. “But you don’t have to fuck me… breed me… make me your slutty little bint…”
She let her head drift back, shifting her body obscenely as she waited. Scott went to her.
“It was still naughty.” He parted her legs—took his erect cock in hand and aimed it at her purple-haired slit. “I’ll have to punish you after all.”
“Good. I deserve it.” She smiled ruthlessly. “Put on a good show, love. Your other bitches are watching.”
And they were—unable to look away as Scott’s long, fat prick disappeared inside of Betsy.
“Nnnnnh! It’s so big!” Betsy keened. “It’s bloody filling me up! I love it, Scott! Bloody well love being your cock holster!”
Scott withdrew from her until only his helmet remained inside her sopping pussy. Then, groaning with the effort of withstanding Betsy’s tightness, he rammed himself in all the way to his balls.
“And I love your pussy, Betts,” Scott grimaced. “Your hot… tight… pussy!”
Their bodies fit together in perfect harmony, Betsy’s shapely legs wrapped around Scott, her hips accepting and relishing the motion of his driving cock. She laid back on the table, stroking her breasts as she was fucked in a display of arrogant self-pleasure.
It spurred Scott on to fuck her harder, to give her the brutal thrusts that she longed for—rattling the table beneath her, jiggling all of Betsy’s ripe flesh. Betsy moaned aloud, showing how much she loved being reamed in such a way. Her body writhed hotly as the relentless pistoning continued.
“You have any idea… how long I’ve waited… to fuck your dirty… little… cunt?” Scott panted, only barely holding back the rocking motion of his hips, his hands on Betsy’s waist to keep her in place. He didn’t want any interruption in the exquisite massage her cunt gave his prick as he stroked into it.
“Mmmmm—as long as I’ve wanted you to!” Betsy groaned.
Grinning ferociously, Scott knocked her hands away from her cleavage and gripped them himself, enjoying the way her large nipples were hard to the touch. He played with her pert tits, pinching the cherries of her nipple even as he drove his lustful prick deeper into her womanhood.
“Daddy…” Emma muttered as she watched, drooling insensately, unable to even look away from Betsy claiming the fucking that was rightfully hers. She sounded like she was talking in her sleep.
Emma could hear Jean’s breathing elevated beside her, and knew the redhead was as aroused as she was. If she were free to move, she’d fuck Jean, get her kicks that way if Scott insisted on giving that little Brit hooker his cock. But there was no moving, nothing she could do, no relief for her burning pussy.
Scott was enjoying himself too much to notice anything but Betsy’s snug cunt. Betsy’s shrill cries of pleasure would have drowned out Emma’s slight noises anyway; she was growing louder by the second.
“Oh, yesss, Scott!” Betsy cried. “I never thought I’d be such a whore—such a cock-hungry whore—but your prick—oh, your fucking todger! Your great big bollocks!”
With her hands freed, she reached down and grabbed Scott’s swinging balls, cupping and squeezing them with gentle force.
Scott groaned in reply. “Yeah! Feels good, Betts! Do it some more!”
“Punish me!” Betsy gasped, squeezing his balls to make it something like an order. “Punish me for being a dirty little slut!”
Scott grinned. First, he smacked her ass with the flat of his hand—Betsy gasping as she felt the blow reverberate through her whole body. She had expected him to hold back, not to treat her like the dirty whore she was playing the part of.
Then his hand slashed across her breasts, cracking across both of them with a wellspring of pain Betsy wasn’t ready for. She moaned like a wounded animal.
Scott slapped her across the face now, knocking her head to the side in an explosion of purple-streaked hair, and Betsy knew that this was his plan, what he wanted.
He’d tricked her, seduced her, compelled her to act the part of a slut, to caper about as the slave to his master, never imagining the pleasure she’d get from her pretending. He’d shown her once again how submissive she truly was, how she enjoyed being a bottom, and for now, at any rate, Betsy didn’t fight it. She simply admitted, and enjoyed, that she was his.
Waves of intense sensation rolled over Betsy as she climaxed, her juices flowing from her ravaged cunt, her skin tingling and her flesh burning.
“Be careful what you wish for,” Scott said, before the incredible sensual feeling of her pussy orgasming all around his manhood was finally too much for him.
He released his own orgasm, shooting hard into Betsy. An ocean of cum spurted from his swollen balls and splattered inside of Betsy. She felt it pouring into her and groaned with the feeling of fullness.
Betsy wanted it all, every single drop of Scott’s seed. She wanted the baby that such a potent eruption demanded and deserved, growing inside her, marking her as forever Scott’s. His lover, his mate, his.
Finally, their shared orgasm subsided. Scott pulled his softening prick away from Betsy’s cunt. It dangled between his legs, still long and girthy, stirring Jean and Emma’s watching lust all over again.
“Ohhh, talk about punishment,” Betsy sighed with a crooked grin that fit the pain and pleasure of their mating. “My little twat’s all sore…”
“I’m not surprised,” Scott said as he gave her a fond kiss, caring and soft after how roughly he’d fucked her and how hard she’d come. “My cock’s almost rubbed raw.”
Betsy kissed him again, but she could pick up his thoughts, always busy. He was considering that a late start to his day was threatening to become all out tardiness. He needed to roll through his morning routine and get started on the day’s work.
Betsy didn’t hold it against him. There was a beautiful world where they could lie in bed all day and only think of making love. Scott was trying to build that world, for everyone. She might’ve liked how he fucked, but she could fall in love with how he thought.
“Go. Shower,” Betsy told him. “I’ll make you breakfast.”
Scott kissed her once more. “You mean you don’t want to cuddle?” he asked, half-serious.
Betsy realized how much it meant that after all the attention he’d already lavished on her, he would take still more time to care for her after their draining fuck. But she was ninja, after all. If nothing else, she could make do without afterplay.
“Cuddle tonight?” she counteroffered. “I bet I could really help you sleep…”
Scott nodded consideringly. “If you’re a good girl,” he said, his voice dropping so low in pitch that, as sore as Betsy’s cunt was, the twinge that went through it physically hurt.
The man was going to make a masochist out of her.
He left and Betsy got up, feeling bloated with how hard he’d come in her. She popped a kink out of her back, then went to where Jean and Emma still laid against the island. She leaned over their bodies, steepling her arms on the countertop. Her cunt was in front of them, showing both women how Scott had left her gaping, how full of cum he’d made her.
“How was it for you?”
A. Follow Jean.
B. Follow Scott.
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