My hammer is with me, right where it should be, hanging at my waist. The shaft fits through a particularly shaped loop on my belt, and the head holds it in place.
“What are you doing?”
I’m taking it from my waist, and I am running the sheath under the water, with soap. This is not how I usually clean the hammer. Usually, I polish and sand and perhaps seal it, but for now I want it clean enough to do something suitably twisted.
“Hands and knees,” I order. “Your punishment begins now.”
A little whimper marks her attempt to avoid her comeuppance, but she has to know that a little spanking is not nearly enough. She needs to be sorer, more deeply embarrassed. She needs to feel true regret and contrition. She needs the shaft of my hammer buried deep in her…
“Oh fuck!” She curses as she feels the hard but smoothly curved end of the hammer running along the length of her slit. It is built sturdily, a lot thicker than the average cock, but not so thick she can’t take it in this naughty pussy.
I make her stretch for me. I press it between those tender lips of hers, watching them spread for me. She’s a little brat, a true hellion, and this is how I show my things their place.
“Thor…”
I love the way her voice catches and cracks. I love the way she is braced even more. She may not wish for this, but she is pressing back against it, she is taking my long, hard hammer in her tight little cunt now. I feel the moment it breaches the last point of resistance and begins to simply slide in, gliding on her wet humiliation.
She grunts and moans, her round hips working back and forth against the shaft.
“This is wrong,” she gasps. “I stole this. I…”
“Quiet,” I order. This is no longer about what she has done. This is what is being done to her. She is being obedient. She is opening herself up. She is taking what she deserves, a good fucking following a hard spanking. My cock is rock hard inside my pants, but as tempted as I am to drive that inside her hot cunt, I think this holds so much more meaning for her.
Harder. Faster. Deeper. I pump my hammer in and out of her until she is on the verge of a very undeserved orgasm, and at that moment I pull it out, ignoring her begging. She wants to orgasm. She thinks she has earned pleasure. But this is not about her pleasure or her dripping need. It is about teaching the little animal part of her a lesson it will never forget.
“You have another hole equally in need of fucking,” I remind her.
“No!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes. Hold your cheeks open for me.”
This is a test of obedience. She cannot stay on hands and knees if she is to hold herself open for me. She must instead lower her cheek to the floor and present her haunches high, two red swelling globes on either side of a dark little hole I am yet to conquer, and the dripping slit I have already claimed with my hammer.
The sounds she makes as I use the ample slick lubrication from her sex to ease the passage of my hammer's shaft into her tight rectum are some of the most satisfying I will ever hear. Her little gasps, moans, and complaints are music to my ears. I think back to how smart she was when she was calling me, taunting me with her possession of this very hammer. She has it now, pressing into the tightness of her rear.
“Is this what you wanted? When you called me and told me you had my hammer? When you tried to take thousands of pounds from me? Or when you swore I'd never get it back? Do you remember that, Anita?”
“Yessss!” Her moans are deeper and more desperate. She's losing control, what little she had left. She’s giving into those baser impulses and instincts that lie at the core of every red-blooded woman. She’s taking her fucking like a good girl — and it may very well be the only thing she ever does as a good girl.
“It’s mine again now, isn't it. And so are you.”
“Yes!”
I reach between her legs and toy with that dripping sex that calls me. I could pull my hammer free and plunge my cock into her. I could feel her wrap around me with all that desperate intensity I know she has. She’d love my cock inside her. But she doesn’t deserve that. She deserves this. The shaft of my hammer gliding in and out of her hottest, tightest hole, urging her anally toward what I hope to make the most memorable orgasm of her life.
She’s getting closer. Her thighs are shaking with desperate need. She can barely keep her bottom still, her fingers struggling to keep her cheeks spread. But she obeys, and because she obeys, she is allowed to orgasm.