SEASON’S BEATINGS

       

Well, the Holiday Season is upon us again. Don’t you just love this magical time of year?  I find it so exciting. I look forward to it each year with breathless anticipation. I can’t wait to see all the lights and decorations and to party with old friends. 

The music of this Season is a special treat. You cannot escape the nostalgia and romanticism of it all. Particularly if you were raised in northern climes, “Sleigh bells ring, are you listening, down the lane snow is glistening…. Later on we’ll conspire as we sit by the fire and dream unafraid the plans that we made walking in a winter wonderland.” The songs really set the mood for me.

       I have so many favorites. I love: “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-slave open sleigh.” Yes, that was a childhood fantasy of Mine: to be pulled over the snow in an open sleigh by a naked slaveboy, or maybe even three or four, My bare-assed Clydesdale slave ponies. That Budweiser commercial with the Clydesdale horses is so successful because it is steeped in the nostalgia of this Season.

       

Last winter I took a trip up to New England from My home in sunny, balmy Ft. Lauderdale to see My childhood friend, Mistress Lizbeth. We were both little bitches in training as kids.  I’ll bet you would have loved being dominated by the two of Us. The young boys just couldn’t do enough for Us. We teased them and made them cry, and they always came back for more. It especially became great fun when the boys reached puberty. Lizbeth and I quickly learned how vulnerable a boy could be and how easily manipulated he was when his cock was hard and aching.

Before very long, We had several boys agreeing to pay Us a tax for the privilege of masturbating before Us. In the woods behind the school house, oh how they begged for release! It was so amusing to see their sorrowful eyes pleading for permission to pull their cocks. Once, We had two boys kneeling in the woods jerking their dicks furiously side by side. They were so embarrassed to have their helplessness revealed to one another. Of course, we blackmailed them and made them our little slaves. But that’s a story for another time.  You can color in that fantasy for yourself, boys. 

Anyway, I visited Liz last year on Her farm and My dream of a sleigh ride behind a slave pony was fulfilled.  Lizbeth harnessed up her hunkiest slaveboy and We went for a sleigh ride across an open, snow-covered field in the bright moonlight. Oh, I tell you, it was glorious.

       The sleigh was really a pony cart that was modified with cross-country ski on each side. The slave Simon was hitched between the cart rails by chains to his waist belt and to his wrists. Lizbeth strapped a bridle over his head and pulled the bit tight against between his teeth.  A steel cockring encircled his thick erection. The ring was held in place by a thong that pulled up through the crack of his ass and attached to the back of the waist belt.

The thong supported a thick ponytail made from real horsehair and butt-plugged into his ass hole.

I was a little disappointed that Our powerful stallion wasn’t completely naked. A wool sweater and ski pants protected him against the night air. His pants were cut out front and back, however, to expose his thick cock and gorgeous butt. Fortunately for his cock, the night was windless and warmer than usual, the weather phenomena that happens just before the cold front moves in and brings a new snowfall. Anticipation of a new snowfall and bright moonlight on snow blanketed hills provided a breathless adventure.

Lizbeth and I settled in next to each other on the driver’s bench beneath a thick, plaid blanket and with thermoses filled with hot rum drinks. Lizbeth flicked the reins and tapped Simon gently with her buggy whip. He surged forward and we were off across the country lane, two little girl Goddesses again, being pulled by bigdick Simon the stallion. The lane We used was really Lizbeth’s snowmobile trail, so the snow was hard packed. Simon had little trouble pulling the sleigh. It was so much fun being a kid again and hearing the sleigh bells jingle as Simon’s boots trampled the icy snow. “Giddyup, Simon, faster!” Lizbeth applied the whip to his ass. “Faster, horsey, faster,” She cried out with joy.

       Out in the meadow We unhitched our ponyboy and wrapped him in a blanket to rest for a while, as We finished off the hot rum. Then Lizbeth decided We would have a snowball fight with Simon. Two against one is not fair, of course, and that’s just the way We wanted it – not fair. Goddesses should never be fair with Their slaves. What fun would that be? To make it even more exciting Lizbeth handcuffed Simon’s wrists behind his back.  We circled him and pummeled him with gobs of snow while he tried to run and dodge. We laughed and squealed like two little girls when he fell to his knees and tried to roll away from the barrage of snowballs. He staggered to his feet and tried to run again but he was exhausted.  Finally, the ponyboy fell to his knees again and begged for mercy. He was a much easier target kneeling in the snow.  So much jumping and dodging kept us warm but breathless..

       “What did you say, slave?”

       “Mercy, Mistress, mercy. I’m exhausted. I can’t take anymore.”

       “Do I give a fuck whether you can take any more? What is a slave’s first duty?”

       “To serve and please Mistress however She may desire.”

       “Even when horsey slave is exhausted?”

       “Yes, Mistress, even when exhausted.”

       “Do you think begging for mercy pleases Mistress?”

       “No, Mistress. I am humbly sorry. I apologize.”

       “How many strokes of My cane have you earned by your insolence, slave”

       “Slave begs for ten strokes, Mistress.”

       “Then it shall be twenty! Be sure to count each one and say thank You to Mistress, or I shall have to start over.”

       “Yes, Mistress. One! Thank You, Mistress.”

       So it went. The slave knelt in the moonlit snow and his Owner cut his ass with twenty strokes of Her cane.

       When She was done, Her mood lightened. “Bend forward, slave,” Lizbeth commanded. “Place your face on this blanket. I have a new game for Us to play, Natasha.” A delighted smile played on Her lips.

       With his hands cuffed behind and his face on the blanket, Simon’s bare ass made a perfect target. We backed off twenty paces and took turns playing snowball darts. A direct hit on the crack of his butt was worth five points while a hit on either butt cheek earned two points. But who was counting? We were just having one hell of a good time, squealing with delight and laughing at each hit on the target.

       By that time, the rum drinks had worked on Our kidneys. Our bladders were full and We both had to pee. “Your Mistress has to pee, Simon. I can’t pee standing up. I need My piss throne,” Lisbeth declared, releasing his wrists from the cuffs. Evidently, this was not a new scenario for them. Simon knew exactly what to do. He knelt on all fours in the snow, and presented himself so his Mistress could have a toilet seat. 

Lizbeth dropped Her riding breeches to Her ankles and mounted Simon’s bare ass. Her naked butt straddled his. She let loose a torrent of hot Goddess nectar, which washed down over the crack of his slave ass and his butt cheeks to yellow the snow between his knees. 

“You are such a lucky slaveboy,” I said as I took my turn on the slave toilet, “to have two Mistresses use you and shower you with their golden juice.”  

“I just hope his butt doesn’t get chapped,” Lizbeth laughed. “It’s such a pretty butt.”  It didn’t take long before Our Goddess juice dried on Simon’s butt cheeks.  We warmed Simon with heavy blankets again and allowed him to rest awhile, before We hitched him again for the return ride to the farm house.

       Before we began the return journey, however, Lizbeth remarked upon Simon’s cock.  It was truly humongous.  “There is no way the pony can pull Us back to the ranch with that heavy load bouncing against his belly,” She laughed mischievously.  She bent over before Her stallion and backed her breech-clad buttocks into Simon’s throbbing shaft.  Lizbeth wickedly wiggled Her ass cheeks against Simon’s dick and the slave moaned with pleasure.  She ran Her hands over his belly and thighs.  “Close your eyes, Simon.” 

She rubbed his cock with a damp wool mitten before encircling it with Her palm. She scooped up a handful of snow and smeared it cruelly over his captured prick. Simon moaned against the surprise of the burning ice and his cock shriveled to a little dickey in short order. “That’s better,” Lizbeth snickered and climbed up onto the driver’s bench.  “Now Our trusty steed can carry Us home.”  She grasped the reins triumphantly and flicked her whip against Simon’s ass to urge him homeward. “Isn’t it delicious to own a ponyboy?”

       Later that evening Lizbeth and I rested before an open fire in Her family room.  Simon was on hands and knees crawling and scurrying to keep Our drinks filled.  A slave’s work is never done however tired he may be.  I felt especially aroused having this hunky naked slaveboy tending to Our needs. It was the feeling of triumph and conquest I had learned to relish when those boys begged to masturbate before Us in the woods so many years ago. Simon was in excellent physical condition.  The firelight caressed his rippling muscles and highlighted his beautiful skin.  His butt cheeks were  tight and hard. Lizbeth remarked on how much She enjoyed fucking his asspussy with Her dildo.

I mused out loud over how sweet it would look painted rosy pink with a paddle.  Lizbeth agreed enthusiastically. “Present your ass for a beating, slaveboy,” She commanded. Simon stood behind a couch and doubled over the back of it so his face and hands were buried in the seat cushion. “Guests always go first, Natasha.” Lizbeth offered a paddle.

I positioned Myself behind him with the three inch wide, wooden paddle.  I tapped him gently on each ass cheek to warm them up.  Maybe ten to fifteen soft strikes on each cheek.  I rubbed the palm of My hand over each cheek lovingly, slapped them with my bare palms, and checked the hardness of his robust cock. Simon relaxed under My gentle caresses, and I struck with a fury, striking first on the right cheek and then on the left. Startled at the sudden onslaught, Simon flinched and cried out. I increased the intensity of the paddle strikes. You know how much I love using a wood paddle on your naked butts, guys. It really moistens My pussy.

       Simon’s ass turned a fiery red as I repeatedly pounded him with the paddle. He whimpered as I continued to beat him, but he held his position bravely.  I paused from time to time to soothe his ass with the soft palm of My hand. Simon moaned with pleasure and gratitude at My touch. His gorgeous cock remained engorged. I resumed the beating. 

“Happy Holidays and Seasons Beatings from our house to yours,” I laughed smacking him again and again. Still no cry for mercy. What a lovely, obedient slaveboy. So eager to please his Mistresses. I hit him perhaps a hundred times, but who was counting? At last My arm grew a little tired. Enough paddling. I was satisfied and warmed by the exercise.

Lizbeth stepped outside for a moment and returned with Her hands filled with snow which She rubbed gently over Simon’s tortured ass. At first the snow burned his raw skin but then it began to cool the fire I had lighted. She patted him dry and applied some aloe lotion to help relieve him further. What a lucky boy to have two Mistresses. Again, only in your dreams, guys.

       I permitted Simon to express his thanks for the paddling by sucking My toes. Enraptured in the glow of sub space, he sucked slowly and lovingly licked each toe to savor the taste. I felt so warm and rum-cozy lying before the fire and having someone worship My perfect Goddess toes. I floated off into a lovely dream trance.

       Before the roaring fire, I drifted between sleep and awareness. Lizbeth dangled a sprig of mistletoe over Her pussy and summoned Her slave to pleasure Her. “Come here, sweet Simon, come be My tongue slave.” Obediently, Simon crawled naked on hands and knees. Lizbeth spread Her thighs wide for him. I watched through half-lidded eyes. Simon bowed his head between Her welcoming thighs and pressed his face in worship against the temple of Her Womanhood. His tongue caressed Her labia and his lips sucked Her clitoris. Lisbeth shuddered with pleasure and pulled Simon’s hair. Her thighs captured his head. The heat of passion rolled over Her in long, slow waves. She dug Her heels into Her steed’s back and rode his face. She bucked hard against him, beating him with a riding crop. Again and again She hit him with the crop and kicked his back and ribs with Her heels. Scorching orgasms repeatedly rolled and rocked Her body.

       “I adore You, Mistress,” the slave said, his voice muffled against Her moist genitals.

       “I know, baby.”

        Her passion spent at last, Lizbeth pushed Her slave away with Her foot. “Go outside and jerk off in the snow, slave.”

       “Thank You, Mistress. It was a privilege to serve You, and thank You for allowing Me to masturbate in the snow.”

       “Be sure you lick it up when you’re done, piggy. I don’t want any dirty, cummy snow spoiling My winter landscape.”

       “Yes, Mistress. As You wish, Mistress. I love You so much, Mistress.”

       “Oh, get the fuck outside, slave. I have no need of you for now.”

And that ended a perfect evening in Our Winter Wonderland.

Season’s beatings to all and to all a good night.