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The Collar 3: Graduation	By : foobar137 Category: +M through R > Phineas and Ferb Views: 8463 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Not owner of Phineas and Ferb. Not my characters, not my setting, not for profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Graduation
- 1
Third in a series of explicit stories about Phineas and Isabella in a master/slave relationship. Some bits may not make a lot of sense without reading earlier stories.
Marked Underage because the main characters are 17.
Many thanks to Ea4g for suggesting the roleplay element, which gave me the push to start this story.
Trigger warnings: rape/non-con roleplay, kinkshaming, concerns about self-harm, concerns about partner abuse
Phineas took a deep breath, and double-checked his gear. Blue shirt, check. Shiny plastic toy badge, check. Holstered paintball gun, check. Handcuffs, check. Mirrored sunglasses, check.
Good enough.
He looked up. Isabella was sitting in the driver's seat of his car, parked in the garage, while he stood next to the car. The garage door was down, giving them some privacy. Everyone else was out of the house for a few hours - Ferb was out on a date with Adyson, while Mom and Dad were working at the antique store.
Isabella rolled down the car window, and Phineas walked up next to her.
"License and registration," he said curtly, looking down at her. She was wearing a low-cut tank top without a bra, and her nipples stood out boldly. He could see her thighs underneath her short, pleated skirt.
"Certainly, officer," she said, flushed. She handed over her driver's license and the car registration, sitting next to her on the seat.
He made a show of looking at the paperwork, while actually staring at his girlfriend. She was so beautiful. She looked up at him nervously, her bright blue eyes wide. They'd been going out for a month now, and he was finally getting used to the idea that she wanted to submit to him sexually. He'd suggested one of the dreams he'd had before they'd started dating - a police officer pulling over an attractive young woman and forcing her to have sex with him. He'd been a bit concerned that it would be too much, but she'd readily accepted the idea.
"Do you know why I pulled you over, miss?" he asked.
She shook her head, her eyes wide. "No, officer."
"You were doing 57 miles per hour. In a school zone."
She gasped. "I didn't...I'm sorry, I didn't realize."
He glared down at her. "You didn't realize."
She looked up at him, shocked. "I...I..." She swallowed, and looked him up and down. A smile came over her face. "Could I...make it up to you somehow?"
"Miss, are you attempting to bribe an officer?"
"No, of course not." She shook her head. "I'm just...offering to make it worth your while not to give me a ticket."
He gave her a flat look,. "Step out of the car, miss."
She opened the door nervously, climbing out. He loved watching her move, her long legs revealed by that very short skirt. Her breasts bobbed as she moved, barely concealed by the tank top that clung to her like a second skin.
"Put your hands on the car," he said, his hand resting on the paintball gun in its holster. She glanced down at it, swallowed nervously, and turned her back to him, resting her hands on the roof of the car.
He knelt down, running his hands up one leg, then up the other. Her skin was soft - he loved touching her so much. She gave a quiet gasp as his hand came up her inner thigh. He continued up her sides, then slid his hands around to her breasts.
"Ohh," she moaned as he squeezed her breasts, her nipples poking into his palms. He spent some time groping her breasts, pulling her body back into his. He was hard, and he was sure she could feel it through his pants.
He stepped back, and she looked back over her shoulder, puzzled, as he pulled out his handcuffs. He ratcheted them through, and he saw her eyes widen at the sound. He knew what that sound did to her, and just because he could, he pushed them all the way around again, making her shiver.
He reached up and took her hand off the car, pulling it behind her back and closing a cuff on it. She whimpered wordlessly as he took her other hand and cuffed it behind her back as well. She was helpless now, his to use.
"Now, then. It seems to me we need to fine you for speeding, and for attempting to bribe an officer," he said as he pushed her over a few steps, until she was standing by the front fender. He bent her over the hood and flipped her skirt up. Underneath, she wore a tiny thong that was visibly damp in the crotch. "My, you are a hot little slut, aren't you?"
She nodded wordlessly as his hands caressed her ass, bared by the thong. He caught the waistband with his thumbs and pulled the thong down, letting it drop down her long legs. She stepped out of it with one foot, letting it dangle off the other ankle.
Gently, he ran a finger up her slit, and she quivered. His finger crossed her wet opening, then circled around her clitoris, making sure not to touch her there quite yet.
He knelt down so his face was level with her pussy. He loved to taste her, and loved the way it turned her on. He gripped her ass cheeks, pulling them apart to bare her center to him, then pointed his tongue and gently brushed it across her entrance, making her twitch.
He licked around her clitoris, and she moaned with need as he brushed across it. It stood out, hard and bared by her lips, as if begging him to return. He wanted to tease her more, though, so he returned to her pussy entrance, poking his tongue in to gather her juices. Her hips jerked, pressing back at him, as she tried to open her legs wider.
He continued probing with his tongue while he brought his hand up, stroking his thumb across her clitoris. She gasped, rattling her handcuffs as she tried to increase the sensation. He knew that if he did that much more, she'd come right there and then, and he wanted to be inside her when she did.
"And now, my reward for pulling you over," he said, standing up. He slid his fingers up her wet and ready slit. "Yes, master," she whispered, and he smiled. She was so far into it that she'd forgotten the roleplaying and was into sub-space - she'd gotten herself so far into the submissive role that it was all she could see. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. He needed to be careful with her in this state, because she'd go along with just about anything. Fortunately, he didn't have anything complicated planned.
He gripped her hips and slid into her, slowly, savoring the feeling. Her body welcomed him, the delicious friction almost too much for him. He embedded himself in her fully, pressing her hips against the car fender, and then paused to keep control of himself. His hands slid up, pulling her upper body up from the car as they slid underneath her tank top. They pushed it up, baring and gripping her breasts. Her stiff nipples poked into his palms, and she moaned softly.
"Mine," he whispered as he began to rock in and out of her. He loved this - knowing she'd let him restrain her, knowing she was his helpless little fucktoy. She loved it too, which was utterly amazing to him. He pulled her to him, and she whimpered in the back of her throat as her mouth hung open; she was far enough gone that she was unable to even make more noise than that. He felt the steel of the handcuffs, warmed by her skin, press against his stomach just under his shirt.
It was too much for her, and he could feel her muscles tensing as she came, freezing her in place as her legs tried to close around his. The angle of his thrusts changed, just a bit, just enough, and he held her in place as his world went white and he sprayed his seed into her.
"Ow," she said, as he returned to reality.
"Ow?" he said, looking at her.
"The cuffs tightened. It hurts," she said.
He backed off, and saw that he'd forgotten to set the double-locks. When her wrists had been caught between them, the cuffs must have tightened up. "Shit," he said. "Sorry." He fumbled around for the keys and quickly unlocked the cuffs. She rubbed her wrists, which had long red scrapes around them.
"Almost looks like I've been cutting my wrists," she said, turning around.
"Damn. Sorry."
She shrugged. "It's okay. It's not like anybody's going to notice."
"Hey, what happened to your wrist?" Gretchen asked, taking Isabella's hand. They were sitting in the lunch room with the rest of the Fireside Girls, waiting for lunch to finish up. Phineas was off working on some sort of preparation for graduation, coming up that weekend. They had a few final days of class left, with no expectations of actually learning anything.
"Oh, it's nothing," Isabella said, trying to pull her hand back.
"It's both of them," Katie said, pointing to Isabella's other arm. "Looks like a cut or something."
Gretchen's eyes narrowed. "Cuts on both wrists. Isabella, is there something you should be telling us? You know we're there for you."
"Seriously, it's not like that at all," Isabella said. "It's nothing. Really."
Gretchen shook her head. "That's exactly what you'd say if it were something."
"It's none of your business," Isabella said.
"My friend hurting herself is my business," Gretchen said. Behind her, Katie nodded. Adyson shrugged and nodded as well.
"I'm not...look, if I promise I'm not hurting myself, will you leave me alone?" Isabella said, getting annoyed.
"We worry about you," Gretchen said. "Are things not working out with Phineas?"
"They're fine," Isabella said curtly.
"We're here for you. It's okay," Katie said over Gretchen's shoulder.
"Fine. Be that way," Isabella said. "Phineas forgot to set the double-locks on the handcuffs when he was screwing me last night, and they tightened too much and scraped up my wrists. Happy now?"
Adyson winced, and Gretchen looked shocked. Isabella looked past them to realize that her outburst had been heard by quite a few people at other tables, many of whom were busily punching the story into their phones.
A sharp blow to his back caught Phineas's attention as he was walking down the hall. He turned to see Buford coming up beside him.
"Handcuffs, eh? Didn't think you were the type," Buford said.
"What?"
"Word around school is you handcuffed Girly last night so's you could fuck her. She's a feisty one, I can see needin' to do that to keep her from gettin' away."
Phineas blinked. "What?"
Buford drew a line across his wrist with his finger. "Cuts on her wrists from the handcuffs. I can see it, it'd be hard to get 'em on her." He nudged Phineas with his elbow. "Worth it, though, I bet," he said as he walked off.
Phineas covered his face with his hand. "Crap."
Isabella sat in a corner of the study hall, looking around, wondering which of her friends would be the next to visit her for a quiet conversation. So far, she'd had three. Classes were coming to an end, and the teacher supervising study hall had given up on trying to keep them from talking, as long as they were quiet about it.
Isabella had deliberately chosen a seat in the corner to have some time to think. A few minutes after study hall had started, Gretchen had stopped by to confirm that, really, Isabella could tell her if anything was wrong. Katie and Ginger had stopped by for...
Ah. Here comes Adyson. She looks nervous.
"Hey, can we talk for a sec?" Adyson asked, taking the seat across from Isabella.
"Sure. What's up?" Isabella suspected she knew, but had to ask. Adyson had started dating Ferb just before prom, and they'd had sex for the first time in the back of the prom limo after Isabella and Phineas had been dropped off at home.
"You and Phineas...how..." Adyson trailed off, giving Isabella an uncertain smile before taking a deep breath. "How did you two start to talk about...kinky stuff?"
And, that makes three. Isabella was amused that so far, Gretchen was the only one whose response to the discovery of the kinky games Isabella and Phineas played wasn't "How can I get my boyfriend to do that?"
"It's all about communication," Isabella said. "It's a matter of safety. If the two of you can't talk about that sort of thing, openly and honestly, you aren't ready to try it. There's too much risk if somebody starts making assumptions."
Adyson nodded, but a puzzled frown crossed her face. "Risk? Like, how?"
Isabella smiled thinly. "Let's say -- purely hypothetically, I have no idea what your kinks are -- that you want to be tied up and have Ferb pretend to force himself on you."
Adyson blushed deeply but said nothing.
"So," Isabella continued, "you're there, helpless and gagged, and Ferb decides that...oh, I don't know. That he really wants to try anal. Because you didn't talk about it earlier -- what your limits are, things like that, so he assumes you'll be okay with it. And you have absolutely no desire to try anal at all. Again, hypothetically. But, because you didn't talk about it, you're getting it up the ass whether you like it or not."
From the way Adyson was blushing, Isabella suspected that the idea didn't sound that bad to her, actually. Isabella had talked to Phineas about anal sex, and they'd decided that neither of them really found the idea thrilling, so they'd hold off on it for now.
"I think I get it," Adyson said. "There's so much trust required that you need to make sure everyone knows what the boundaries are."
"Exactly." Isabella gave Adyson a smile.
"That makes a lot of sense. So how did you two start talking about it? Neither of you really seems like the type."
"You'd be surprised. As for how we started..." Isabella smiled dreamily, remembering the day Phineas had found her in the park, tied up with her own leash, wearing nothing but a collar with his name on it. "It just came up."
The look on Adyson's face said that she didn't believe her.
"Seriously. There were...circumstances. We kind of discovered it about each other at the same time, accidentally."
"Oh." Adyson sighed. "That sounds so much easier than..."
"Than telling your boyfriend you'd like him to tie you to the bed and ravish you."
Adyson blushed and giggled. "It sounds so silly when you put it that way."
"It does, I suppose, but it isn't. It's...amazing." She looked at Adyson conspiratorially. "In some ways, this whole thing going public has some very positive things going for it."
"Such as?" Adyson asked, leaning closer.
"I highly suspect that Phineas is going to punish me for this. Something devious and incredible."
Adyson's eyebrows went up. "And you like this idea?"
Isabella smiled. "I'd put my feelings on it at about one part scared to three parts horny."
Phineas got to the bus first, grabbing their usual seat and waiting for Isabella. He'd spent the day since he'd first heard the rumor trying to figure out what to do about it.
He'd eventually decided that, really, it depended on what Isabella had actually said, and how she felt about it. If she was embarrassed and wanted to forget the whole thing, that was one thing. If she wanted him to punish her for it, well, that was another.
He was pretty sure she hadn't done it deliberately, to cause him to punish her. They'd found plenty of good excuses for that over the past month, including his favorite catch-22: a Friday night where either she needed to be punished for ignoring him to do her homework, or for ignoring her homework to hang out with him. That had been the night when they'd learned that nipple clamps worked really well when she was being punished.
She got on the bus and gave him an awkward smile. She sat next to him, and he put his arm around her. "Sorry," she whispered as she cuddled into his side.
"You okay?" he whispered back.
She nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. Gretchen saw the cuts from the cuffs and just would not let it go. I got frustrated enough to tell her the truth, and everybody overheard."
"What did you say? Some people seemed to think I forced the cuffs on you and raped you."
She looked up at him, startled. "Really? That...you wouldn't..."
"I couldn't. You know, what, six martial arts? You'd beat the crud out of me."
She laughed, her mood finally breaking before she cuddled back into him. "Well, of course. Maybe you snuck up on me?"
"I guess. So what did you say?"
"Just that the cuffs you'd put on me had tightened while you screwed me."
"Ah." He paused a moment, then asked, "So, does this mean you need to be punished for this?"
She looked up at him again, her eyes wide, a bit of a smile on her face. "Please?"
"This sort of thing calls for rather severe punishment, I think."
She nodded slowly. "I agree." She nestled into him again, sighing happily. "I agree," she repeated softly.
"Mama, I'm home!" Isabella called as she went through the door. It was her mother's day off, so she was stopping in to drop off her final school projects before going across the street to visit Phineas.
"Isa?" her mother called from the kitchen. "Can you come here for a minute?"
"Sure thing, Mama. What's up?" She walked in, finding her mother chopping peppers.
"Are you eating here tonight? Is Phineas?"
"I don't think we'd decided. Why?"
"Jim's coming over for dinner tonight, so it might be easier if the two of you ate elsewhere. I'll pay for you two to go out to dinner if need be." Her mother had met Jim online a couple weeks before, and they'd started seeing each other. He was a widower with a daughter a few years older than Isabella, off at college.
"No, that's fine. I'll eat over at Phineas's. Should I let you know before I come home?"
"Please." Mama glanced down. "What happened to your wrists?"
Isabella sighed. "Long story."
Phineas sat back in his beach chair. The gang had gone to the beach for the evening after the last day of classes, with graduation coming up that weekend. Phineas and Isabella's friends had razzed them a bit about the handcuffs, and Phineas was mostly glad that they didn't know any more than that.
But that wasn't an issue right now. Right now, he was enjoying watching the volleyball game. Isabella and Milly were completely clobbering Django and Buford - it wasn't even close. Phineas wasn't sure if it was just that the girls were better at the game, or that the boys were too distracted by the girls jumping around in their bikinis.
The bikinis were, admittedly, extremely distracting. Isabella's magenta two-piece was more athletic in design - she'd apologized to him for how utilitarian it was, saying she'd bought it before they'd started dating. He'd told her that it was fine, and that if he wanted to show her off more, he'd just order her to take off her top. She'd shivered at the thought.
Milly's, on the other hand, was a tiny blue string bikini, and she was jiggling quite a bit in it. Buford, in particular, couldn't possibly respond to her serves because his jaw was still hanging loose.
Ferb walked over toward him, carrying a can of Cherry Coke. He gestured to the chair next to Phineas; Phineas said, "Feel free."
Ferb sat for a moment, silent, and Phineas enjoyed watching his girlfriend play volleyball. Milly dove for the ball, and when she stood up, one of her breasts was hanging out of her bikini top. She tucked it back in with an embarrassed smile. Phineas decided that he liked Isabella's breasts better - they fit her better, while Milly's seemed a bit big for her frame. Buford was still staring, Phineas noted.
"You've put me in quite a spot, you know," Ferb said quietly.
"Mm?" Phineas mumbled, still watching Isabella.
"Adyson asked me to tie her up. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."
Phineas turned to Ferb. "Oh. Um. Sorry?"
"How..." Ferb paused, thinking. "I know you're an advocate of sexual equality. So is Isabella. How do you rationalize playing dominance games with that?"
"Um. It's what we've both chosen? I'm not forcing her into anything. And when we're not in a scene, we're partners." Phineas paused, pondering, as Ferb chewed over what he'd said. "In a way, she's really the one in charge when we play."
Ferb blinked and looked at him as if he'd gone mad.
"Okay. You said Adyson wanted you to tie her up. She probably had a list of what she wanted you to do to her as well. Yes?"
Ferb nodded.
"Okay. So...who's really in charge there? You, the person doing the tying? Or her, the person who's given you the list of what to do?"
"That is a good question," Ferb said, nodding. "So Isabella gives you a list?"
"Not a specific list, per se. But I'm giving her what she wants in general. And if she said stop, I'd stop. Period. I've tried things that didn't work. She used a safeword and I stopped."
"Adyson mentioned something about safewords. I'm not quite clear."
"So, say that you're playing something where she's resisting. Not hard enough to get away, obviously. So she might be saying 'no' in the struggle. You need some way for her to say 'no' and make it clear that it's not part of the game. That's a safeword. It means, 'stop now, I really mean it'. Some people use a word that would never appear in the scene, usually something distinctive. 'Beetlejuice' or 'abracadabra' or 'ziggurat', things like that. There's a kind of standard set from folks who play in public, color-coded - red, yellow, and green."
"Stop, slow down, and...what's green?" Ferb trailed off.
"Faster, or keep going. That's the set we use." Phineas paused, looking out at the sun setting across the lake. "I've heard of some people just using 'safeword', since it's distinctive and clear."
"Thank you," Ferb said, as he started to stand up.
"Ferb," Phineas said, and his brother looked down at him. "If you don't want to at all, then don't."
"I didn't say I didn't want to. I just said I wasn't comfortable with it." He looked over at where Adyson was chatting with Ginger and Baljeet. "I may be changing my mind." With a nod to Phineas, Ferb went over to rejoin his girlfriend.
Phineas turned his attention back to the volleyball game, just in time to watch Isabella spike the ball past Django for the win. She high-fived Milly, then came over to rejoin him.
"Good game," Phineas said.
"Thanks," she said, picking up her towel and brushing the sand off her of legs. She noticed him looking at her and smiled at him. "You liked watching us?"
"You're so beautiful," he said softly. "I like watching you."
She blushed as she claimed a spot on his lap. She nestled into him, molding to him as if they had been cast as a single unit. "Love you," she whispered.
"Love you too," he said, putting his arms around her. His hand rested on her back, and he realized he was half-hard already just from having his barely-clothed girlfriend cuddled up with him.
"Ferb wanted to know what to do about Adyson?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "Yeah. We talked control and safewords and all that jazz. He didn't give me any details of what she wanted, just for him to tie her up."
"Think he'll do it?"
"Yep." He saw Buford heading off, following Milly. "What's up with Buford and Milly? Are they an item?" he asked.
"If she has anything to say about it. That was why she set up the volleyball game, especially wearing that tiny bikini."
"Intentionally planning to fall out of it?"
Isabella laughed against his chest. "If she hadn't accidentally, I half suspect she would have taken it off by hand." She paused for a moment. "Were you serious about ordering me to...?"
"Only if I knew you wanted it." He kissed the top of her head. "We haven't really talked about our public limits yet. But I get the feeling you like the idea of being discovered a lot more than the embarrassment of actually getting caught."
She nodded slowly. "Monday at school was not good. Letting everyone know what we do was not what I wanted."
"So, you may love the idea of me ordering you to take off your top, then tying your hands with it and ordering you to take off your bottoms..."
She was breathing heavily, and he was fully hard now at the image. His hand on her back burned.
"But I think that in reality, you probably don't want to deal with the mess it would create," he finished.
"Yes. But the idea is really hot," she said, squirming in his lap. "How long do we have to hang out until we can head home?"
He kissed her gently. "A couple more hours. Why don't you go get us some drinks to cool us down a bit?"
"Why me?" she asked, sitting up, then glancing down to his swimsuit and the erection that was pressing into her hip. "Oh. You can't stand up right now, can you?"
"Nope."
She grinned at him. "You're going to take this out on me later, aren't you?"
"As soon as we get back to your room."
Isabella looked in her closet, trying to figure out what to wear.
I'm overthinking this, she thought. It's not like I'm going to wear anything for more than 30 seconds once I get over there.
She'd been anticipating this for four days now. She'd hardly been able to write her speech for tomorrow's graduation.
Her collar sat on her bed, waiting for her. Phineas had told her to arrive at 5 on the nose, carrying her collar and ready for her punishment. The clock read 4:53.
She picked a sundress from its hangar and tossed it onto the bed. It was light blue, and perhaps a bit too big for her. Most importantly, it would come off quickly and easily.
She pulled off her shirt, tossing it into the hamper, then added her bra. Her shorts followed, and she hesitated only a fraction of a second before her panties landed on top of the pile. She pulled the dress over her head - it fit her formlessly, hanging just above her knees. Her breasts pushed the front of it out, jiggling as she walked around the room.
She slipped her sandals on, picked up her house keys and her collar, and took a quick look in the mirror. She picked up a hair tie and pulled her hair into a ponytail, to keep it out of the way. She had three minutes to get across the street; plenty of time, if she didn't dilly-dally.
The street was quiet as she crossed, feeling bare under the thin dress. Her heart was racing, wondering what Phineas had planned. He'd been tight-lipped about it, dropping her off after lunch so that he could work on it. She'd gone out for a run to take her mind off his plans, then spent the rest of the afternoon unable to focus on much of anything.
Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell. There was a clattering inside, and then Phineas opened the door, breathing heavily. "Sorry, was just finishing stuff up. Come on in," he said. He stepped aside, then closed the door behind her as she came in.
He smiled and took her into his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah."
"We don't have to..."
"We do. I need you to, Master."
He paused, his hand gently stroking her back. "Okay. Do you need a bathroom stop or...?"
"No, I'm good."
"Okay. Let's do this, then. This way, it's in the garage."
He led the way into the garage, where a large sheet had been draped over...some large piece of furniture, she couldn't tell exactly what. The area around it had been cleared out.
He turned toward her and an evil smile came over his face. "Put on your collar," he ordered.
She set her keys on the floor beside her, then buckled the collar around her neck, feeling the familiar tightness. She was already wet, she was sure, and her nipples were tenting the front of her dress.
"Strip," he said. She pulled her dress off, over her head, then folded it and set it next to her keys. She toed off her sandals and set them next to the dress, then stepped away from her belongings and knelt on the cold concrete floor, her hands clasped behind her neck.
"Very good," he said, walking around her and inspecting her. "Very, very nice," he said, his hand stroking along her shoulder. She held still, resisting the urge to lean into his touch.
"So, I've been considering an appropriate punishment," he said as he continued around her. "Since you revealed your submission to everyone, a punishment that occurs in public seems right." She couldn't hold in a slight whimper at the thought.
"I had a few thoughts," he said. "First, I thought I should order you to be naked under your graduation robe tomorrow. Your heels and your robe and nothing else. Maybe your collar."
Oh, God, she thought. It would be incredibly embarrassing, but only if she got caught. Would anyone notice? Would she get caught? What would happen if she did?
"But I decided that wasn't really the right sort of punishment. Then I thought about putting a chastity belt on you during graduation. Holding a remote-control vibrator inside you for me to play with during the ceremony."
Her eyes got wide, and she barely kept from looking up at him, pleading.
"But, as tempting as giving you a screaming orgasm in the middle of your speech is, it's not subtle enough. I want a punishment that will make you think about what happened the whole time." He walked over to the covered furniture, and grasped the sheet. "So I decided to go in an entirely different direction. And, one that I'm going to get to enjoy a whole lot more."
He pulled the sheet off, and she inhaled sharply. A wooden head-and-hands stock stood closed, a heavy lock hanging open on one side. It was set low, so she'd have to bend over to put her head into it. A wide, padded bar sat a foot or so away at about waist level, and a long wooden box with holes in the top and another large lock was at the foot of the bar. A leather-wrapped paddle rested on top of the bar, along with a small chain.
"So, I've spanked you in the past, but never very seriously," he said. "Today, I'm going to give you a very thorough paddling. One that will certainly be on your mind tomorrow during graduation. As you sit on the hard metal folding chairs. Up in the front row, as class president. Where everyone can see you."
She tore her eyes away from the stock to look at him. He was watching her reactions closely; from talking to him after other scenes, he was making sure it wasn't too much for her. She gave him a slight nod, and he smiled.
He walked over to the stock and picked up the short chain. "Stand up," he said, letting the nipple clamps dangle from his fingers.
She stood, clasping her hands together behind her back. Through experimentation, they'd found that he'd had them too tight and used them at the wrong time the first time they'd tried them. They didn't work well when she was in a pleasure-seeking state of mind. However, when she was being punished, they did amazing things to her state of mind.
He closed a clamp onto her left nipple, and she squeaked. It hurt, but it was good, and her other nipple hardened a bit in expectation. The other clamp bit into her right nipple a moment later, and he gave a gentle swat at the chain connecting them, making her hiss.
"Now then," he said, running his hand down her bare side. "Let's get this started."
He led her over to the stocks, reaching down to the long wooden box. He flipped the back of the box down, opening the holes in the top. "Step in," he said. She put her feet in, leaning on the bar. The paddle fell off, landing on the floor with a clatter, and she gave him an apologetic look. The ankle holes spread her legs wide, and then he closed the box again, holding her ankles in place. The lock clicked shut on the side of the box.
He stood and opened the head-and-hands stock, swinging the top half up to the side. She saw that the insides of the holes had been wrapped with leather, which bulged from padding underneath. She bent over, her stomach resting on the padded bar, and rested her neck in the center hole before putting her wrists into the smaller side holes. "Thank you," he said, making sure her hair and collar were out of the way as he closed the stock. She tried to wiggle a wrist, but the padded leather held it in place. There was more slack around her neck, but nowhere near enough for her to pull her head through. The other lock clicked, and she was utterly helpless. She tugged on her arms and legs, reveling in the feeling.
"I'm thinking thirty strokes," Phineas said, kneeling down to pick up the paddle. "But we'll stop at twenty to see how we're doing." He gave a quick tug on the chain between her nipple clamps while he was down there, and she hissed at the pain. "That's for knocking over the paddle," he added.
He moved behind her - she could see nothing behind the stocks, but she could sort of place the sound of his footsteps on the concrete floor of the garage.
She heard the smack before she could feel it, and then an instant later, pain blossomed across her ass. This was much more intense than the hand-spankings she'd gotten before, and her body tried to lurch forward, away from it, only to be stopped by the padded bar. She cried out from surprise.
"Count," he said.
"One, Master," she gasped. The pain was radiating out from the band across her ass where he'd hit. She caught her breath, tugging against the stocks again. The movement made the chain between the nipple clamps sway, reminding her once again that they were there.
Another smack came, just below the first, finding fresh terrain to mark, just as the pain from the first was starting to fade. "Two, Master," she cried to keep herself from shouting out in pain. She was twitching against the stocks, her movement not even coherent. She wasn't sure if she wanted more, wanted out, wanted Phineas to drop the paddle and fuck her brains out as she was bent over and helpless...
Okay, she was pretty sure she wanted that one, but she was also pretty sure she was going to get it as soon as he was done paddling her.
The third stroke hit just above the first, so that her entire ass was now radiating heat from the impacts. Suddenly, she slipped into the rhythm of it, and she could feel herself letting the pain and the pleasure merge together. "Three, Master," she said.
The fourth hit at an angle, crossing the stripes she'd previously gained, and setting all of them ablaze again. The sensations merged, and she felt like she was floating, a being of pure feeling. Distantly, she heard herself say, "Four, Master."
The strokes of the paddle, the nipple clamps, her helplessness, and her arousal were all one now. New strokes kept her ass warmed, and she dreamily counted them off for him. Master wanted her to, Master was punishing her for...something. Did it even matter? Not really. He wanted to, and she wanted him to. She was his, all his, and she loved it when he made sure she knew that.
The next stroke didn't come. Instead, she felt his bare hand, caressing her ass. She moaned from the feeling, the pain and heat that came from the soft touch on her abused rear.
"I think that's good enough," he said. His hand slid down between her widely-spread thighs, finding her opening. She was wet and ready for him, and his finger slid into her without resistance.
She sighed happily at the feeling, trying to press herself back onto his finger. He pulled out of her, then flicked his finger down across her clit. Her mouth opened, but no sound could come out as the intensity of the sensation overwhelmed her ability to speak.
She heard his zipper, and a moment later his hardness was sliding into her. His hands found her hips, holding them in place as his thrust sank home. He rocked against her, his pelvis slapping against her ass, making a tiny cry come from her gaping mouth.
His hands slid up her sides, then around to her breasts. She tensed as his fingers found the clamps, and then pain rushed through her nipples as the clamps came off simultaneously. The sensation was too much, and with his thrust inside her at the same time, she toppled over the edge, a shattering orgasm tearing through her. Through the sensory overload, she could feel her toes curling inside the box, her clenched fists tugging against the stocks holding her helpless.
Phineas's hands were back on her hips as he thrust in and out of her, his breathing becoming heavy. His thrusts became a bit erratic, and then he impaled himself fully inside of her as his cock pulsed, spraying her insides with his seed.
They stayed there a moment, as if frozen in place, before Phineas stepped back, his softening cock slipping out of her. She heard keys rattle, and then a click from the head end of the stocks. The top half lifted up, and she tried to stand up.
"Careful," Phineas said, catching her head before she could bump it into the top half of the stocks. She ducked down until she could get her head clear, and smiled at him.
He smiled back as he knelt down next to the box and unlocked it, opening it up and releasing her ankles. She stepped out, gingerly touching her ass and finding that, yes, it was going to still hurt tomorrow. He put his arms around her, and she nestled into his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.
Phineas watched from his seat among the graduates as Isabella finished her speech. As class president, she had the honor of giving the welcome address. She introduced the principal, who would give the next speech, and then went back to take her seat.
She gently eased herself onto the metal folding chair, sitting rather gingerly, and he smiled. She was clearly still feeling the spanking from last night.
She fidgeted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to sit, then looked over her shoulder at him. She gave him a slightly embarrassed smile, and he smirked back.
She faced forward again, still fidgeting. Ferb, sitting next to him, whispered, "Isabella seems to be sitting a bit uncomfortably. Do I want to know?"
"Nope," Phineas whispered. "How'd it go with Adyson?"
A devious smile crossed Ferb's face quickly, then he masked it and glared at Phineas. "None of your business."
"That well, huh?"
Ferb paused, then nodded.
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The Collar 3: Graduation