Sammi Smites Stevie

Sammi and Dom entered the studio quietly, wanting to catch Stevie, the photographer / shoot director off-guard. Their approach was masked by the bright lights illuminating the runway and casting the rest of the room into shadow. They took in the room. There were several large lighting stands and a Vaudeville style stage which incorporated a runway. Three models in lacy lingerie and high heels stood looking bored and aloof as a young, slim and definitely gay Stevie tried to explain the shots he was aiming for. It was obvious that the models either didn’t know their jobs, or were being deliberately obtuse to fluster Stevie, and clearly it was working. Sammi and Dom watched as he approached the runway to give direction. As he reached out a hand to pose one of the models she slapped him away and barked, “Get your hands off me, you little piece of shit. Who do you think you are to touch me!”

Sammi flared at this and stormed forward, Dom dashing to keep up. She rounded on the model, now nervously backing away down the runway. “You can get your skinny arse back to the dressing room. I’ll be in to talk to you all soon enough, once I’ve dealt with young Stevie here.” The three stood in shocked silence. “MOVE!” roared Sammi, and as one the threesome shot back along the stage to the sanctuary of the dressing room.

Sammi turned now to Stevie who was smirking at the treatment he had seen his nemesis receive. “Oh Miss Williams, I’m so pleased you came by. The girls are such a handful,” he gushed.

Sammi stared. “No words, Stevie. No more words. You are a week late and $10,000 over budget. No more words. But Carla did give me a message to pass on to you.” With that she tugged down the zipper of her skirt and let the fabric fall in a pool at her feet. She had not replaced her knickers after her earlier thrashing and so was now naked from the waist down. Behind her she heard Dom’s intake of breath as he saw the full extent of the damage caused by Carla’s cane just an hour ago. Sammi’s bum was a criss-cross of welts which had begun to darken into deep bruises. She turned so her back was now to Stevie, and she heard his gasp as he saw her well-decorated cheeks.

She turned back to face him, standing legs apart with her hands on her naked hips. “If you want to work in this town again, you will take the message I am going to give you to heart and you will learn your trade under me and you will, in time, become a valued member of the Whiplash Marketing team.”  She paused for effect, then spoke quietly and menacingly. “If, however, you choose to leave, you will be sued for the full costs of this shoot and you will never work in this industry as long as Carla and I are able to prevent it. Your choice!”

Stevie looked from Sammi to Dom and back. He could see he had no way out. Whiplash had such a huge reputation that he needed this job on his resume. He swallowed hard. “W-what message do you have to give me?” he stammered.

Sammi just smiled and reached a hand back for her kitbag. Dom passed it over and she dropped it heavily on the floor before reaching inside to extract a pair of leather cuffs joined by a stout chain. She looked around and spied a swivel stool on wheels that Stevie used when shooting. She examined it, and finding it to her satisfaction she summoned Stevie over to stand behind the stool. Sammi raised the seat to be level with Stevie’s waist. “Bend over the seat and reach down,” she ordered. Stevie quickly complied, anxious to avoid further antagonizing of Sammi. As he did so she quickly snapped the restraints onto his wrists and secured them around the central leg of the stool. Stevie jerked against the restraints, “W-what are you doing?” he cried.

“Oh, I think you know,” Sammi replied. She reached under him to unbutton his jeans, then tugged his pants and underwear down to his feet to hobble him. She stood again, taking in the sight of his naked butt, poised and vulnerable. “Oh, what’s this?” she exclaimed, touching his cheek. A tattoo marked his smooth, pale flesh. A tattoo of an imp bending and showing his naked butt. Underneath were the words ‘Bite Me’.  “I do believe I will take that as an invitation, young Stevie. I’m guessing you must be a little Twinkie, am I right? Well let’s see if Momma can give it to you as good as your Daddy does!”

Sammi reached into the bag and pulled out the familiar strap. “A quick warm-up, I think, then we can get down to Carla’s message.” She pulled the strap back and cracked it across his tender cheeks. Dom winced as he saw the strap bite into Stevie’s slender behind and whip around to mark his outer thigh. He recalled the venom with which Sammi had lashed him just a short while back. He had not sat comfortably for some time after that night. But now it was someone else on the receiving end at least. He watched as Sammi whipped the strap across Stevie’s bum a dozen times. The sight of her half naked while she whipped Stevie’s soft, smooth bum had him straining in his pants.

Sammi saw him watching and glanced down at his bulging crotch. “You can stay if you like – didn’t know this was your taste, but if want to be useful you can instill some discipline into those prima donnas in the dressing room. I’m going to be a while here. “ She punctuated these final words with a few well-placed whacks with the strap, before throwing it to the ground and reaching between Stevie’s legs to squeeze his sac and shaft.

Dom took his cue and jumped up onto the runway, heading to the dressing room. Meanwhile Sammi had brought Stevie to full attention with her expert manipulations. “Not just a boy-toy then, are you?” she teased, rolling his glans in her palm. Stevie groaned and twitched as she fondled him. “No fun for you though, just for me!” she declared, and pulled Carla’s cane from her bag. She gave Stevie 10 hard forehand cuts, then switched sides to deliver 10 backhand cuts. Each hard, deliberate stroke brought a sharp yelp from Stevie, until by the end he was gasping, sore and broken. “Just one more part of the message, then we are done,” Sammi declared. She reached into the bag once more and pulled out a double-ended strap-on. She carefully inserted the device into her wet pussy, then strapped the dildo around her waist. She took a liberal scoop of lubricant and pressed it between Stevie’s sore cheeks, then pressed the blunt tip of the rubber shaft against his anus, and pushed. He gave a sharp cry as the shaft entered him, but his cries turned to moans of satisfaction as she began to fuck him. Each thrust rocked the shaft in her pussy, teasing and building her own orgasm. As she felt her climax build she increased her pace in Stevie’s arse. She started as he cried out and shot his cum on the floor, just as her own orgasm crashed through her. She pulled the hard rubber from his gaping anus and he collapsed, exhausted and sated over the stool.

Dom’s voice broke the spell. He called out as he stepped from behind the stage curtain, “If you’ve done with your boy-toy down there, I’ve been working pretty hard back here too.” He signalled to the girls and out walked six beautiful women, all knickerless. They lined up along the edge of the runway and turned their backs to Sammi. She stared open-mouthed at Dom as she drank in the sight of six well-reddened and beautiful backsides facing her.

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