Month: September 2009

Is spanking sex?

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An adult story about spanking, sex and bad words read with caution

Dear Paul,

I realize after fifteen years of marriage, this will come as a great surprise to you, but I have a favor to ask. When you get home from work today, please go upstairs to our bedroom. I’ll be waiting.

Love

Amanda

Paul found the note when he opened his case at the office. He almost rang her up, but then the day got hectic and although he didn’t actually forget the cryptic message, he fantasized about what favor she would request. Paul thought their sex life was adequate and they’d tried nearly everything at least once. Amanda had never voiced any complaints and seemed content. The drive home seemed shorter than usual and Paul fairly bounced up to the master suite. To find, a very ‘great surprise’.

Picture a husband opening the bedroom door expecting to see his wife in say… slinky lingerie, maybe one of his button-down shirts, a mask, a lacy thong, anything within the ordinary. What Paul saw was Amanda, a nude Amanda bent face down over the footboard whilst kneeling on bolsters, thus placing her wide bottom uppermost. Her torso supported by pillows allowing her breasts to brush the bedspread with her hard nipples. Legs were lightly spread open at the calves, just enough to trap a pair of bright red panties. Resting in the small of his wife’s back was a medium size paddle – appeared to be leather – and underneath the paddle, another note.

Dear Paul,

As you may have guessed – you are a very smart man – your wife needs a favor. I want you to spank me. With your hand, this leather paddle I bought online and anything else you may decide to utilize. Before you say anything to me, please, as your loving partner of fifteen years, I ask you spank me once with your hand for each of those wonderful years. After that, I will answer the burning questions I know you have.

Love

Amanda

Paul smiled wryly and stood to the left of his kneeling wife. He raised his hand and gave a tentative smack. There was no reaction from Amanda, so he spanked her again and again. Moving from cheek to cheek it was only a matter of some seconds to spank her fifteen times. So light were his spanks her bottom was unmarked.

“So Amanda, what brought this on?”

Amanda remained in her prone position and answered her husband’s question without turning her head to see his expression. “I’ve been reading about spanking recently and more specifically about spanking in marriages.”

“And you decided it was something to try?”

“Yes sir.”

“Fair enough. But you do understand my trepidation?”

“Yes sir. I do. I know it must seem very strange to you to spank me, a woman who deals with domestic violence on a daily basis at the shelter. It’s very hard to explain my feelings Paul, but bending over like this, knowing you can see everything and can take me in whichever hole you choose, is very, very arousing to me.”

“Interesting. So spanking is… foreplay?”

“I think so. Certainly the knowledge you’d be home tonight and see me like this has had me on edge for weeks. I thought about how it would feel and rather than spank myself, I wanted to give you the first whack so to speak.”

“So how many whacks and how hard and what exactly do you expect from me?”

“Can we take it slow? Maybe spank me for a minute and then see how it feels?”

Paul took her at her word and spanked her for a minute. Amanda’s bottom was now the faintest hint of pink, but she was frustrated at how tender Paul was being with his blows.

“Paul? You can spank me much harder. I promise I won’t be upset with you. Please?”

Paul hesitated for a moment. This was the woman who adamantly refused to ‘obey’ in the wedding vows. Who kept her name and had separate bank accounts. The woman who marched in every protest: who worked for Hillary Clinton in the campaign. He was having a hard time reconciling that woman with the one draped over the king size bed.

“OK honey. Here’s another minute spanking you harder.”

This time the sound clearly echoed off the walls as Paul laid into his wife’s quivering bottom with gusto. He figured if he spanked her hard enough, she’d change her mind and they could get on with sex. The last twenty seconds were a barrage of spanks as hard and as fast as he could make them.

When he stopped, he rubbed his hand over her blushing cheeks, the redness now brighter and he was surprised to feel how warm the flesh had become. Amanda crooned as his hand explored her bottom and she arched even higher, waggling her hips to entice his hand lower. When Paul dipped into her crevice and underneath, he was shocked to find her dripping wet. A simple touch to her open slit had her groaning and Paul was all set to strip down and plunge in deep from behind.

“Please wait sir. I need more. The paddle, use the paddle.”

The pleading tone in Amanda’s voice was something he’d not heard in years and picking up the paddle and rubbing it across her bottom had Amanda moaning in anticipation. Paul raised the paddle and bounced it off one cheek.

“Harder.”

Another blow to the other cheek followed.

“Again.”

Paul continued, sometimes fast and sometimes, long pauses between blows. He watched utterly fascinated as Amanda’s hips gyrated in wide circles. She thrust her hips up so high he could clearly see the dampness on her upper thighs and the pulsing of her anus. She urged him on to paddle her harder with pleas and sighs until her bottom was a bright, even red.

She whimpered when he stopped, complaining until he rammed his rock hard cock all the way to her cervix. His pelvis slapped her sore bottom and she screamed out her first orgasm. He grabbed her waist pulling her back and forth violently using her sopping cunt to fuck his cock. As they fucked, the redness on her bottom slowly faded and Paul, seized by the moment, suddenly pulled out and began spanking Amanda again with his hand. She squealed and raised herself up on her arms, moving her bottom back to meet the blows.

“Use the paddle again Paul. Use it between my cheeks. Please!!!!”

She collapsed on her face, reaching back to spread her hot bottom as wide as she could. There was just enough room between her fingers for Paul to use the handle on her crack. He carefully smacked her and she screamed.

“Oh that stings!”

“Do you want another?”

“Yes sir! Right on my naughty butt-hole!”

Paul raised an eyebrow but spanked her sharply on her naughty butt-hole. He wondered if his wife would treat him to some anal next and he was quite happy when after ten stinging blows to Amanda’s anus, she wanted more.

“Oh Paul. My butt-hole is numb and feels so tender. Fuck it. Fuck my ass! Punish that naughty ass for being a slutty girl.”

Paul fucked her pussy first for some lubrication and when he tried in insert a wet finger or two, Amanda stopped him.

“Just ram your cock into my ass Paul. Make it hurt!”

Her rectum was so tight and hot it was impossible to ram in, but steady pressure with a single thrust had Paul buried to his balls in Amanda’s ass. The tightness, her crying with the pain, the heat of her spanked bottom all combined to have Paul unloading within minutes.

Amanda’s fingers were a blur as she rubbed her clit and came after Paul was softening in her sore ass.

Later when they had cleaned up and had dinner, Amanda and Paul talked late into the night. Amanda made it very clear that for her, spanking was a sexual act and she had no desire to have a disciplined marriage. If you are ever in the mood Paul, put me over your knee, pull down my panties and spank my bottom until I demand to deep throat your cock.

“You mean like this?”

Once more the echoes of spanks and a pleasured woman filled the bedroom.

Why would anybody want a spanking?

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution

“Because it’s fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yes, fun.”
“Having you spank my ass is going to be fun?”
“For both of us.”
“I’m the spankee right?”
“Yes, but it’s still fun to be spanked.”
“Have you been spanked before?”
“Yes.”
“And was it fun?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t it hurt?”
“Yes. That’s the fun part.”
“The pain of the spanking is the fun part?”
“Yes. Plus the soreness afterwards.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
“The more sore you are after the more fun it was.”
“You are crazy.”
“Yes. So, can I spank you now?”
“Check please!”

So what happens next in this story? Spanking yes or no?

You may have noticed that there is very little actual spanking in my stories. That’s because I am intrigued by the interest people take in the art of spanking. It’s punishment, discipline, maintenance, sensual, sexual, domination and submission all centered around the bottom. But why? Why does it have such a hold over our psyches?

Discipline is needed

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution

“Passion comes in all forms”

Willing reluctant feet to move, she raised a quivering hand to rap on the sturdy oak door. The gruff ‘Enter!’ nearly sent her fleeing back to her room. Reluctantly she opened the door, sweaty hands clutching the document. Seating behind his desk, her father raised an eyebrow at his twenty-year old daughter’s attire. Dressed as a schoolgirl, pleated skirt, crisp blouse and his regimental tie she appeared much younger and very nervous. ‘Good morning Sir.’ Confused her father said, ‘Since when am I ‘Sir’ to you Princess?’ Before she completely lost her nerve, his trembling daughter confessed her inner most desires. ‘You never spanked me as a child Sir and I appreciate your compassion and understanding of my willful ways. It would have been easy to punish me with blows. I know I deserved a good thrashing on many occasions. I also know you spank mother and have for as long as I can remember.’ Her father stirred uncomfortably in his leather chair, the conversation taking a disturbing turn. He was about to dismiss his clearly overwrought daughter when the door swung open to reveal his smiling wife. ‘Have you told him yet darling?’ Her daughter shook her head, courage bolstered by her mother’s support. ‘You told me Sir when I reached the age of twenty I could ask for any single thing of you and if it was within your power, you would grant my boon. This document I have in my hand is my latest uni transcript.’ Her father read the paper, all top marks and glowing reviews. ‘I fail to see any grounds for discipline Princess. I am very, very proud of you.’ His daughter basked in his love and praise. She felt her mother squeeze her hand in support. ‘I thank you Sir. I thank you both for raising me to be the young woman I am today. My boon Sir is that you teach me to be as my mother. I wish to submit to my husband and have the marriage of respect you share. As a reward for my marks I crave you give me six of the best and begin my journey into adulthood.’ He stood, paced round to the two most important women in his life; kissed his wife soundly on the mouth and his daughter on her brow. ‘I would be honored Princess to guide you into proper submission. We both are honored you have chosen your parents as your role models. Assume the position Princess, raise your skirt and lower your knickers to your knees. You will receive six of the best with your mother’s own special cane and you will count and thank me for each and every one.’ She complied, no longer nervous, no longer a child, but poised on the cusp of her new life as a contented and taken woman.

Cross posted to Erotic Flash Fiction.

Why did I marry a wimp?

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution

Another lazy Sunday and another lazy bum sprawled out in her living room. Hands down his unzipped pants, empty beer cans scattered everywhere. ‘The little woman’ cleaning up after his worthless friends! Fuck him! Fuck his bald head and his limp cock! I’m tired of your stupid pathetic shit! I’m finding myself a real man!

*Cut to a fa-fa-chi-chi theme restaurant with a bar*

“What’s a woman with your rounded assets doing in a dump like this?”

Tall. Check
Hair. Check
Real Hair. Double Check
Clean nails. Check
Smile. Check

“Not looking for trouble that’s for sure. I keep expecting the servers to burst into show tunes at any time.”

“I’m Mario.”

“I’m horny.”

*Cut to an anonymous hotel room with soundproof walls and a mini-bar*

Sweaty. Check
Manly Sweat. Check
Agile tongue. Double Check
Thick Cock. Yummy Check
Gives Multiple Orgasms. He’s a keeper Check
Picking up his belt! Rolling me over? A pillow under my hips?

WTF!

OMG!

Yes, I’m a naughty milf. Check
Spankings. Check
I am so calling a lawyer. Check
As soon as he stops whipping my ass that is. Double Check
Not a Wimp. Check

Is it all about the pain?

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An adult poem about spanking, read with caution

“Too soon, it’s over”

The sound of a spanking
is so delightful
crisp smacks
yelps and welts
harder, faster
slower, longer
the pain hurts
no matter the manner
it hurts
burns
stings
cries and sighs
yet after
when the spanking finally stops
the ache
the need for more
the need for more pain
is it all about the pain
what would be better
a hard, fast beating of five minutes
or a long, gentle spanking
for an hour
over a knee
purring
arching
begging for more
slowly building
the burn
while the timer
clicks away
in front of your pleading eyes
minute by minute
too fast
even for an hour
two would be better
three would be perfect
better yet
spank me forever
so I can feel
the ache
every
single
second
I
breathe
your
name
with
awe

Submission is about trust

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution

When she was younger, spanking was something to be avoided at all costs. Too often though, over momma’s lap she’d go for a session with the ‘attitude adjuster’ aka the Fuller Brush. More serious offenses merited a strapping with daddy’s razor strop. But for her these spankings were no fun and non-consensual. She swore when she grew up, married and had children, her children would never face the humiliation and fear of a parental beating.

For the most part she succeeded as a spanking-free parent, although a couple of swats with a wooden spoon could hardly be called a spanking. As the children grew, she reveled in a job well done and thought smugly to herself that her parents had been wrong to spank her. Then came the day of the accident. She was out shopping, bumped into a friend, had lunch, a couple of margaritas and next thing you know; the car was wrapped around a tree.

She was fine, a few bruises, the car totaled, but the biggest damage was to her marriage. Her husband was a romantic, hands-on father and all around good guy who treated her and their children with respect and dignity. But after the drunk driving accident he withdrew, no longer sure of who his wife was. She realized for too many years she had coasted on his accomplishments, being the ‘wife of’ was all she thought she ever wanted. She had in fact turned into her mother – minus the spankings -and it made her unhappy.

Unhappier still was the curt treatment from her husband. The legal troubles were still another issue, because despite no one being hurt and insurance paying for the damages, there had been stepped-up enforcement of under the influence laws and she was being threatened with possible jail time of up to a year. When she and her husband went before the judge, they pleaded for no jail time citing family needs at home. She took full responsibility for her actions and vowed to do whatever it took to regain the trust of society and her family.

When the judge asked what her parents would have done had she been drunk as a teen, she blushed bright red and admitted she wouldn’t have sat down for a week. He asked her husband if he’d ever spanked his wife for misbehavior. Of course not, why would I do that to a modern woman? The judge replied because it will keep her out of jail. The court will consider suspending sentence if your wife agrees to atone for her actions by submitting to what her parents would have given her under the same circumstances.

She didn’t have to think long. A spanking, no matter how hard or how humiliating was nothing compared to a spell in jail. She agreed before her husband could even speak. He was unhappy with the situation but a spanking would seem to be the lesser of two evils. He agreed as well and asked how exactly the spanking would occur. The judge said you will spank your wife with whatever implements she received as a child. Bring them and yourselves back to court in three days. We will use my chambers as I will need to verify the severity of the punishment.

She was mortified and he was angry, but not at the judge; angry at his wife for dragging him into this unseemly affair through her careless actions. He called her parents when they returned from court and explained the judge’s ruling. They were delighted to tell him all about the brush and strap that had painted their daughter’s naughty bottom bright red on many occasions. In fact, they still had both implements and would be very happy to bring them over to the house the next day. Which they did, along with detailed instructions on their usage. They even offered to watch the children while their daughter had her day in court.

The judge met them in his chambers and told them he’d had a change of heart. He didn’t want to be seen as a lech but he was so tired of people not owning up to their responsibilities. He really didn’t want to send a mother to jail, but what choice did he have? She told the judge and her husband that she would own up to her error in judgment. If that meant jail time, then so be it, but she requested that the spanking proceed as previously agreed. My parents told my husband to thrash me ‘hard and long until I squeal’ and I intend to honor their wishes. My husband doesn’t want to spank me though. I am willing, but he is not.

The judge asked her husband if he was afraid to spank his wife. Not afraid to spank, afraid to hurt. I’m so angry that I might not stop. She said to the judge, where were you planning to have me presented for my spanking? Over this leather chair, I believe it is the correct height for you if you bend over the back and place your hands on the seat. She tried it and it did fit, but padding was needed to cushion her stomach. She nodded and said, Your Honor, will you be the observer and instruct my husband on the proper means of spanking? I sense you have some expertise in the field. I’d be pleased to instruct your husband so that he doesn’t overdo the punishment.

With that, to the shock of the men, she swiftly dropped her dress to reveal a naked body underneath. She folded her dress and knelt humbly before her husband. Sir, I damaged more than the car with my thoughtless actions. I damaged your trust and belief in me. I will bend over the chair and you will spank me for as hard and as long as the judge sees fit. Submission is about trust my love and I trust you to spank me and bring healing back to our marriage. I’m ready now. She draped herself over the chair waiting anxiously for the remembered kiss of the hairbrush and the sting of the strap. Please spank me hard husband. Make sure I pay the proper price for my stupidity with a meaningful chastisement.

She heard the judge and her husband moving behind her and softly whispered instructions. As the tentative first swats grew firmer and her bottom slowly warmed up, she settled herself down for a long and painful session. Unseen to both men, she smiled with gratitude. She was home at last. Pain after all was fleeting, but trust was forever.

Slaves in bondage

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FFF#5 at The Daily Toast is based on this picture here and should be a drabble of exactly 100 words.

Some scars didn’t show. Posed for profit, exposed flesh winced with each new prop. Slowly stripped of her clothes, her dignity and her identity, her life was taken away. For Natasha, not what she expected when answering the advert for ‘Servers wanted in clubs throughout Western Europe’ only to find herself trafficked into sex slavery. The police captain pulled back the sheet and compared the girl’s features to the photograph he held. The face was identical: the dead eyes holding the whip were now dead for real. He replaced the sheet and left the morgue: just another whore after all.

All-American Football Star

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An adult story about spanking and sex and very bad words, read with caution

JayCee couldn’t wait to surprise her husband Terrence. He didn’t expect her until this evening, but she’d caught an earlier flight. Letting herself in the gate and the front door, the mansion was silent. She set her bags down and went searching for him. He wasn’t in the game room or the media center and since she wanted to sneak up on him quietly, she didn’t call out or call his cell. She finally heard faint moaning from behind the master bedroom and her blood ran cold when she heard him groan. “Yeah, just that like baby. Deeper, that feels soooo good.”

JayCee slowly opened the doors in a trance expecting the worst. What she saw was so incomprehensible she shrieked. Her 6′ 8″ 275 ripped pounds of stud wide receiver, All-American, Pro-Bowler and Super Bowl star was face down on their king size bed, naked and writhing with – as far as she could tell – her pink vibrator shoved up his ass!

“JayCee! You’re home!”

“What the fuck are you doing!”

“I can explain baby, I can explain!”

“No! Leave it in and tell me what the hell you are doing with my Rabbit plunged up your chocolate starfish!”

“Baby, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I… I don’t know baby. I missed you and I saw your toy… I was…”

“Gay? Are you queer? Is this a locker room thing?”

“No baby. I ain’t no fag.”

“What would your mama say if she saw you like this? I know she didn’t raise her man to be no sissy boy. I’ll bet she’d whip your ass from one side of the house to the other.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Why didn’t you just jerk off? I don’t get it! What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing baby, nothing’s wrong with you. Please believe me. I love you and you’re so hot.”

“Humph. I’ll bet you say that to all the groupies. Hoes.”

“I’ve never cheated on you baby. Never!”

“You don’t call this cheating?”

“No, of course not.”

“You did start without me.”

“What?”

“Stay there, don’t move and don’t you dare take that vibrator outta your fine ass.”

JayCee raced down to the trophy room and lifted Terrence’s fraternity paddle off the wall. This was going to be fun as she hurried back to his side.

“Listen to me sissy boy and listen good. You wanna get back into my good graces, I’m going blister your ass until I feel you’ve learned your lesson! Now put that ass nice and high in the air and let me knock some sense into you.”

JayCee drooled seeing the sight of those chiseled thighs, the meaty calves and the tight buttocks, parted in the middle with a shocking pink vibrator sticking out. Even better was his flaccid cock and loose balls dangling straight down. Ten inches of man meat awaited her attention after she spanked the hell outta his naughty ass. She swung the paddle hard and popped his flesh repeatedly, his squeals and groans sending a flood of heat to her twat. She didn’t want to stop, but feeling the raging heat on his skin turned her into an animal. She shoved him sideways and then on his back. She dove on his cock, semi-hard now and sucked and sucked until it was at full length. She grabbed the end of the vibrator and begin moving it in and out.

“Does this feel like I’m fucking your ass? Don’t you wish I had a real cock right now to sodomize you hard and deep like you do to me? Make you scream like I do when you plunge fast to the hilt?”

She resumed her blowjob determined to milk his sperm. When he finally blew his load, she took it all over her face and rubbed her fingers in the sticky mess, licking and preening like a panther. He winced when she yanked the vibrator out. “I’m gonna take this ass just as soon as I can order me a strap-on. You wanna be my sissy boy and get fucked by your wife?”

“Yeah baby, I do. Go deep, go long and hit me when I’m open.”

“She scores!!!!!!!!!!”

A quick personal note about my new novel

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As you can see by the widget to the top of the right middle sidebar, my novel is coming along quite well. I’ve written eight chapters so far and 13,400 words. No actual spanking yet, no sex [and none planned] but there is graphic and disturbing descriptions of abuse and rape. “Finals” is turning into a dark psychological thriller based on the many reasons people hit and want to get hit in all the various permutations. This is becoming a very exciting and detailed story even in the first draft and taking me places I hadn’t expected the characters to go.

Why do I crave spanking?

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An adult story about spanking read with caution

I’m a modern woman! Strong and independent.

I can drive, vote, work, travel on my own; something too many women elsewhere can’t do!

Yet…

When my boyfriend gives me ‘that’ look.

I shiver.

I put down my magazine. I stand. I bite my lower lip in shame.

He nods.

I shuffle reluctantly to my bedroom, my sanctuary, my feminine home, the place where I can choose to do anything of my own free will.

So I choose… to stand in front of the full-length mirror as I disrobe. I clench my teeth hard as I try to suppress the awful mocking voice teasing my curves, my sagging breasts, my ugly face… Stop It!

Stop being such a bad girl. You’re beautiful.

I’m not. I’m a bad girl. Bad girls are naughty. Naughty girls… naughty girls… Say it!

naughtygirlsgetspankedhard

by strong men

Yesssssssss

I punish myself by restraining my twitching fingers from creeping down my fat tummy to my bits and bits and bits…

I groan with deserved frustration, I’m such a slut, a whore, a filthy little girl who needs a good beating by her stern daddy/coach/teacher/priest/man in uniform!

Pillows piled just so…

Hips raised, feet shoulder width apart

Can’t forget the towel underneath to soak up my juices

Waiting… nude… exposed… humiliated… squirming helplessly as I finally hear, slow, heavy, tread of my chastiser approaching my closed bedroom door and then…

the knob turns… the door swings open…

and I cum violently as he says softly…

so, I hear from mummy someone’s been a naughty little girl…

Why do I crave spanking?

The ‘Tail’ of a Happy Little Housewife

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An adult story about spanking read with caution

In the make-believe land of Spankingpuss, there lived a very HLH – Happy Little Housewife – for those interested. HLH was quite content to scrub the house until squeaky clean, dress the children and send them off to school and cook wonderful meals for her HOH – Head of Household – for those interested. HOH made love to HLH every Wednesday night so HLH had everything she could ever want. Or so she thought.

On day, as she was daintily eating her lunch on the veranda overlooking the perfectly trimmed garden, she heard faint noises from the neighbor’s yard. If there was one eensy teensy wittull bitty fault HLH had that drove HOH to distraction was her blatant curiosity. So HLH crept ever so carefully to the sculpted hedge and peered over the top.

And what did her wondering eyes spy? Why her neighbor being spanked.

It was a troubled HLH who greeted her HOH that evening and after the children were safely tucked in their beds and the dishes were washed and the pipe had been smoked, HOH called his HLH into the den. Under his questioning HLH broke into tears and confessed what she had seen.

It had never occurred to HOH that his HLH would find spanking intriguing. No time like the present and even though it was Monday, the naughty actions of HLH deserved retribution. HLH soon found herself over HOH knees and in some great pain, later turned to orgasmic pleasure. HOH and HLH cuddled in bed and fell asleep wondering what to do next.

For HLH it was a series of trips over HOH knees and all the various and sundry surfaces of the home being spanked with every possible implement until they both were satisfied the tail of the HLH was just right.

The moral of this story is, if you are a HLH, then don’t wait to tell your HOH what you really want.

It’s time for your birthday spanking!

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For Bonnie’s MBS Spanko Brunch #192 a gender-neutral story.

An adult ‘vanilla’ story about spanking and sex and very bad words, read with caution

‘I never really agreed to a birthday spanking.’
‘You said for your 30th I could do what I wanted.’
‘Yes, but that wasn’t a spanking!’
‘Too late, I can’t return the gift.’
‘What gift?’
‘This nice shiny paddle!’
‘No fucking way are you hitting me with… ouch!’
‘I’m putting over my lap for your spanking and you’ll stay there until I’m done.’
‘This is so wrong.’
‘Of course the spanking has to be on the bare to count.’
‘That is even wronger… more wrong… no way!’
‘Yes way dear. You promised!!!!!’
‘Shit!’
‘That’s two extra paddles for bad language already. You sure you don’t want to submit?’
‘Damn it.’
‘That’s three! This is so much fun!’
‘For you!’
‘If you don’t want me to spank you honey bear, I’ll let you up. I promise.’
‘Aw, hell sweetie, go ahead and spank me 30 times for my birthday. A promise is a promise.’
‘Actually it’s 35 now.’
‘Grrrrr.’

After thirty-five fairly hard smacks and thirty-five progressively louder yelps, there was one very red bottom with two very aroused people frantically flinging various articles of clothing and the loud juicy sloshing of a good old-fashioned balls-deep birthday fucking.

In the afterglow, honey bear said to sweetie: it’s your birthday next month. I think a cane is on my wish list.

You may now spank the bride

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An adult story about spanking and sex and very bad words, read with caution

In the year of our Lord 1273, marriage was for the nobility. The serfs, peasants and general workers who comprised the majority of the population were left to their own devices even if a priest was available. Various rituals existed in many cultures to bond two young people together for the sake of the children usually already on the way. In the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach however, there was a very different ritual performed on the rare occasion of Holy Matrimony betwixt and blushing maiden and an untried boy. Here in this place the bride was given away by the groom’s parents; the groom by the bride’s parents. [*If unavailable due to plague, war, malnutrition or general misfortune then appropriate substitutes would be arranged.]

Perhaps thrashed away would be a better term. The morning of the wedding, the respective parents* would arrive at the hovels of the soon-to-be-in-laws and request permission to enter. This was done simultaneously and the bride/groom would politely bade their new parents* to enter the dwelling. Once inside, what the parents* found would be a nude groom/bride standing next to wedding finery. This was done, the nudity, to ensure there were no malformations in the bodies of the engaged. For the bride, she was also subjected to a physical exam to insure an intact hymen [unless a certificate of prior breakage was notarized and signed by thirteen male witnesses] and proper function of mouth, nipples and anus. If satisfied, the bride’s new in-laws would then bathe her thoroughly but lovingly as a new daughter and dress her in preparation to join their household.

The groom was also inspected and his new mother-in-law would ensure he possessed a proper and suitable cock stand for their daughter being given away in the hovel down the lane. The foreskin was carefully washed and then the groom’s father-in-law would direct the groom in the proper manner to use a woman’s mouth and throat. After spending his large load in his mother-in-law’s mouth [he had abstained from solitary vice for a month] she would then solemnly reveal her vagina and anus to her son-in-law and give general instructions on the proper usage of both holes. He would be ordered to rigorously use all three orifices of their daughter that afternoon and into the early morning hours. Both were told to be ready to offer proofs the following day. The groom was then also bathed and clothed and the respective parties then left the hovels and made their way through the hamlet to the center green for the ceremony.

The procession wended its way past each dwelling and stopped in turn. For in the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach, the bride and groom were fully clothed, except for the opening in the back that framed the entire surface of the bare bottom. This bare bottom was given a single stroke with a willow cane at every hovel by the respective parents*. Thus by the time the moist-eyed bride and groom reached the green, they each sported thirty red stripes on formally pristine bottom cheeks. Once at the green, the bride and groom knelt side-by-side and leaned forward, thus prettily presenting themselves for further spanking.

The priest would begin the ceremony and when he asked who it was who gave away the bride, this was the cue for her new in-laws to strike her bottom hard with a thick leather strap created for this day. She received as many strokes as her age – thus providing a reason for parents to delay a daughter’s marriage – and after each one, she thanked God for her humbling chastisement. The groom received exactly the same, except his blows were delivered with a paddle also made special for the day. When the vows were exchanged, the parents* switched sides and implements and delivered ten spanks to their own children for the last time as single individuals. After the ring and the pronouncement by the priest of, “You may now spank the bride”, there was one last test for the painfully suffering and newly minted crying wife. Over her new husband’s knee she willingly went, he sitting on his sore bottom and with loving scrupulousness he used both the strap and paddle – gifts to the newlyweds – until he was completely satisfied the meaning of ‘Honor and Obey!’ had been imprinted on her swollen buttocks.

There of course was still the deflowering to occur and most couples at this point decided it was too far and too painful to walk to their new home and thus consummated their marriage right then on the green in front of the rapt inhabitants of the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach. She would bend over her scarlet ass reaching for the clouds and he with his rampant prick plunging hard into virgin womb, that pain unnoticed in the scorching flames as her husband’s torso spanked her over and over again until he flooded her no longer virgin vagina with his impregnating sperm for the first of many times in succession.

The Lust in Lace anthology is now available with my novella. In Byron Cane’s Sir MacRath Thrashes his Valentine, MacRath is a centuries-old vampire returning home after decades of absence. It is 1854 in steampunk London, and Her Majesty has appointed MacRath Her Chastiser of Loose Morals. Phoebe Hayward is a lady of good breeding, but quite a handful. Despite discovering the man ordered to discipline her is actually a vampire, she can’t help falling in love. MacRath will ensure she is well punished and dominated in all ways as befits his naughty Valentine.

Purchase Lust in Lace on Amazon Kindle. Click picture to go to Amazon.

So unfair! I did nothing wrong!

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution.

FFF#4 at The Daily Toast is based on this picture here and should be a drabble of exactly 100 words.

No words could express her mortification. Face down her pain was acute. Sore eyes lingering on the now denuded ring finger, Marguerite’s tormented mind whipped back, earlier that evening, when, on a foolish whim, wore a sexy costume for her fiancé, the Duke of LaMont. Brutal and swift was his response. ‘No duchess of mine shall behave as a wanton trollop. Such childish behavior shall not go unpunished.’

Fresh tears welled in Marguerite’s sore eyes. She murmured plaintively, ‘It is his birthday, all I requested was that he unwrap me as his gift, spank me soundly and take my virginity.”

The Blind Date

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… not blind as in can’t see, but blind date as in the man/men your well-meaning but rather stupid girlfriend/s keep setting you up with. [That’s very poor grammar and I need a hard spanking.]

An adult story about spanking and sex, read with caution

Mary woke the morning after the night she never wanted to end. Robert – the blind date – had called precisely at 7:30 pm and she, being a woman, was not ready. It was her prerogative she told him politely. All I need is a little freshening up and we can leave. Robert put his foot down. It is my prerogative to deal with your lateness so it does not become habitual. Mary suddenly found herself spun round, bent over and a hard hand swiftly spanking her bottom through her pleated wool skirt. Ten smacks later, upright and in shock, Robert told her he was leaving in five minutes, with or without her.

Three minutes and twenty-five seconds later, Mary was on Robert’s arm. The only freshening up she managed to do was a change of knickers. Plain, wet white ones for a black, lace thong… plus several spares in case he spanked her again… or not. Robert opened the passenger door to his gleaming Lexus and told her to wait. Squeezing her chin in his hand he dictated the evening’s schedule. Rather than bridling at his dominance, Mary returned his gaze boldly and said yes sir. Robert smirked, good girl. That remains to be seen thought Mary.

As if hearing her willful thoughts, Robert watched her carefully as she slid into the car legs together as a lady should. Nodding with approval he drove off into the sunset towards their destiny. It’s a restaurant called Sunset Destiny. The valet opened the doors and waited for Robert to escort his lady inside. Mary bit her lip and ever so daringly flashed just the hint of black lace as her long legs swung to the pavement. The valet jumped in the driver’s seat and Robert told him to wait. Mary he ordered, turn around and place your hands on the trunk and thrust your bottom out. Mary obeyed, blushing to her roots and locked eyes with the stunned valet. Fifteen harder smacks later, the car was gone and so was Mary’s heart.

The food was excellent, the service was impeccable and one glass of wine turned into two and then three. Robert made no demands, no observations and no threats: only witty and broad conversation, lots of smoldering glances and some daring footsie under the table. Mary was determined to push all Robert’s buttons: baiting a bear be damned, Robert was hers no matter the price. For someone who’d never been spanked prior to this evening, his mastery was flaming a conflagration that threatened to consume her soul. It was all she could do not to climb on the table and beg for his cock. She fanned her face and excused herself. The spare knickers were calling urgently.

The same valet rushed Robert’s car to the entrance, received his fifty-dollar tip and waited eagerly for a repeat performance. He was not disappointed. Mary, slightly tipsy, carelessly flopped into the passenger seat revealing to Robert’s disapproving eyes, a flash of pink. Wet, glistening pink. Mary smiled guilelessly. Robert hauled her out and flung her over the warm bonnet. Her bottom suddenly exposed to the cool evening and any who chanced to look. Twenty very hard spanks rang out in the silent courtyard. The sound of flesh on flesh ringing off the stone walls and drawing the intense interest of every patron.

Where are your knickers? In my purse… several dry pairs. Robert reached in and grabbed a pair. Mary remained bent over and nude from the waist down. She felt him squat down, she shivered, the impulse to submit was now overwhelming. She didn’t care about the audience, she didn’t care about the juices running down her thighs, she wanted to be taken, branded by her newfound master. Robert touched an ankle, she raised a foot and he slid the knickers over one and then the other. Raising them to calf level, he ordered her to pull them up. No, stay bent over and don’t you dare drop your skirt.

At her apartment, she asked him in: for a ‘nightcap’. She offered herself. Begged and pleaded. Robert informed her he did not have sex on a first date. However, he was very displeased with her behavior. I know said Mary. What must I do to atone? Strip naked and bend over the arm of your leather couch. Mary shed her clothes like rain in a desert and presented her faintly marked hindquarters in a classic pose. Forty extremely hard spanks rocked her naughty backside and when it was over, to Mary’s sorrow, Robert bade her stand, hands behind her head. He looked her up and down, noting her arousal in her face, neck, breasts and genitals.

I will pick you up at 7:00 pm tomorrow. You will be dressed and waiting for me: on your knees, in the foyer. While you service me and swallow my seed, I expect you to be remembering this evening. Is that all sir? No dear Mary. I wish a full report, in writing, of your masturbatory exploits whence I depart soon. I demand at least six orgasms from you this evening or you will face the wrath of my cane. Yes sir! Thank you sir!

Of course, you’ll be caned either way.

Robert kissed Mary firmly on her quivering lips, his hands finally roaming freely over her back and tender bottom. He slipped a finger over her anus and into her sopping slit. She came in a shattering wave of pleasure. That doesn’t count darling. Good night and sleep well.

There be pirates here!

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An adult story about spanking and sex and very bad words, read with caution

Once upon a time, there was a girl, lady, a buxom wench called Luna who sailed to a new land seeking fame, trouble. She couldn’t help being bad, bad found her time and time again. ‘Sail Ho!’ came the call down from the crow’s nest. Luna rushed to the rail and peered into the distance at the ship rapidly wearing towards them. ‘It’s pirates!’ came the next anguished shout. Then a stampede of a calloused feet and caught unawares, Luna was unceremoniously shoved over the rail and into the cold sea.

When she next came to, leering down at her wet bodice and sodden gown were a ring of dastardly, blood thirsty, frightening, hunks of studly men. ‘Make way ya scurvy dogs! She’s mine I tell you and I’ll gut any whore’s son who thinks otherwise or my name’s not Clifford the Big Red Dog!’

Luna shrunk back with fear, terror, horror, sheer delight at Clifford’s ranting tirade. She was wet now, not just from the sea, but her thighs were flowing with secretions. He grabbed her long plait and yanked her to her shaky feet. ‘You’ll do as your told wench or I feed ya to the fishes. Ya hear me tart?’

‘No! I’ll never submit to the likes of a brute, a beast with big bulging muscles and a very, very big… codpiece. Not even if you beat me, whip me, flog me, spank me. Not even if you strip me naked, tie me to the mainmast, spread my legs wide, wide open until my thighs scream in agony and my tender slit and pulsing rosehole are open to your every dark and deviant, twisted and lewd desire. I will never willingly submit to your lustful urges.’

‘Is that so miss high and mighty. Argh, I have a hankerin’ for some tender virgin female flesh. What you say boys? Should we give the wanton lass a taste of pirate justice?”

‘YES! YES!’

‘Well slattern. Looks like you got your wish. I’m gonna flog you till you faint, revive you with some grog and then take you in every single hole, over and over again. Ya ready to pay the price for being my prisoner?’

Luna fainted, dropped, swooned with excitement, passion, lust. ‘Do me! Hurt me! Rape me! I love it Clifford.’

“I’m gonna whip your ass until I can cook bacon”*

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*For my Jewish readers: “I’m gonna whip your ass until I can smoke lox”
*For my Muslim readers: “I’m gonna whip your ass until I can roast lamb”
*For my Hindu readers: “I’m gonna whip your ass until I can fry nan”

An adult story about spanking and sex and very bad words, read with caution.

“Beating up my inner feminist”

I suppose y’all think I’m a beaten down, trailer trash, crack smoking barefoot and pregnant whore for wanting to be whipped, but I ain’t. I blame my daddy – God rest his soul – for my pecccadilloes: and don’t think for one cotton-pickin’ minute I don’t know what that word means. Daddy used to whup my ass every Sunday before church, just so’s I would pay attention to the preacher. Lord I miss my daddy. He raised me right, tried to beat the sass outta me – and failed -, but I know he loved me. Told me to stay in school or else; the principal damn near wore out the paddle on my naughty butt and momma made sure I paid with blisters for every C I brought home.

Thing is, that’s what I want from a man, a real man that is. Not the lowlife cretins covered with sores and staggering drunk before noon. No, a blue-collar man: with grease under his fingernails, a hunting license and a big dick that I can suck until the cows come home. With a good job, a home and a 4×4 with a light bar and monster tires. Now that honey, is a real man and when he fingers his belt, and growls at my back talking, I don’t want a lecture, I don’t want reason, I don’t want some pansy assed college boy telling me how a lady should behave: I want a good whipping that makes my cheeks flaming red and my feminist snatch drippin’ wet and horny! There ain’t no real men left in this world. Too interested in spa treatments for crying out loud. The only crying in my house is when the leather meets the sassy, big-bottomed, feminist who needs a good spanking to put a smile on her face. So cowboy up and get busy with your little woman: she’ll be ever so grateful.

There was a brief silence and then gasps from her audience. “Oh! That is so nasty and dirty Florence Lee! Bravo! That is your best story yet!”

“Why thank you kindly Clara Sue. Do have some of my watercress and cheese canapé. Emma made them this morning.”

“Emma is a treasure Florence Lee. Are you sure you can’t see your way clear to part with her?”

“Not on your life Betty Jo. You keep away from my domestics if you know what’s good for you.”

“Ooh, that sounds like a threat.”

“I’ll mention to Jenson what you were up to last Saturday night Betty Jo.”

“You wouldn’t you dare.”

“Watch me.”

“Now ladies. Simmer down. We’re all friends here and no need to be dragging our husbands into our… business. I for one don’t need a red bottom again.”

“Who are you kidding Clara Sue! Bo has spanking elbow from the amount of punishment you make him dish out. Tart!”

“Is that so Florence Lee? This story of yours you read to us, it wouldn’t have anything to do with the new mechanic down at Pee-Wees? I did see you there yesterday on the way to Susan’s to have my hair done.”

“Well…”

“I thought so. What happened?”

“I forget my purse and since I couldn’t pay… I asked for credit.”

“And Mr. Blue Collar said?”

“You’re lucky you’re not my woman Mrs. Thompson. Trying to slide out from paying for a lube job deserves a dress up, bent over stick your naughty bottom up high, panties down good old-fashioned switching with willow branches.”

“I must take my car in tomorrow!”

“Me too! You can’t have all the fun Florence Lee.”

If at first you don’t succeed…

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An adult story about spanking and sex and very bad words, read with caution.

Try as she might, Brandy could not entice Daryl into spanking her. Short shorts pulled tight, flirty miniskirts flying up in the breeze, skintight jeans molded to her curves, nothing worked. Oh he would flip up the skirt or yank down her shorts quick enough, but aside from some token slaps – psyching himself up, being manly and all that- he’d just shove his seven inch cock in her cunt and fuck her senseless. Sometimes, if she was lucky, he’d use her ass instead and once in a fucking blue moon she’d get really lucky when after reaming her out good, he’d end up cumming in her mouth. So yes, Daryl was kinky, but on his own terms. He watched too much porn, drank too much beer, watched way too much football and generally was a pain in the ass like all men are. His one redeeming quality was his large hands and the way he looked at her when she pissed him off. OK, that’s two redeeming qualities but since he never acted on the ‘I’m gonna whip your ass until I can cook bacon on it stare’ it doesn’t count. So ladies, what does it take to get your man to spank you?

Bonus Clause

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution.

“All right people, this is serious. Our sales are way off and I know the economy is tough, but it’s tough for everyone and we need some positive results now!”

“How bad is it Chief?”

CEO of Palmer Inc. John Cartwright minced no words. The company that had been in his family for five generations was teetering on the brink of failure. He exhorted the management staff to think ‘outside the box’ and really focus on increasing sales.

The ideas came, slowly at first, rewards, vacations, incentives. Each idea was ruthlessly shot down. Been done, too simple, not enough. “Doesn’t anybody have any creative ideas?”

Quiet until now, Sarah Printemps, Vice-President of Marketing and Sales spoke up, “I have a plan.”

The conference room grew still; Sarah was feared, admired, shunned and desired. Six foot in stocking feet, blond hair styled in a bob, severely dressed in business elite, MBA, PhD and single. Every man and many women at Palmer had hit and bounced through her fifteen-year climb up the flow chart. No one believed anymore she’d slept her way there, no, she’d sliced and chopped her way past the corporate jungle on merit and results: until now.

“Mr. Cartwright,” she began.

He held up his hand. “Why so formal Sarah?”

She grimaced. “Because what I am about to say will shock, even horrify many of you. I may even be out of a job when you hear my proposal.”

Now the room was charged with expectation as she stood and moved to the white board. A deep breath and then, “Ladies and gentleman of Parker Inc. I take full responsibility for the company’s failures during this recession. I did not anticipate the speed and depth of the collapse and therefore failed to have proper contingency plans available. I do now, but unfortunately, due to layoffs and cutbacks, employee morale is suffering and those plans will take an extraordinary effort on everyone’s parts to succeed. The ideas you have floated are very good and during normal times would suit. As Mr. Cartwright stated, “‘These are tough times and I believe we need tough sacrifices’ and I fully concur.”

“So what do you propose?” came from several voices.

“The ultimate incentive.” Sarah swept her glittering blue and hard eyes over her co-managers and finally stopped on Mr. Cartwright’s. “ I propose me.”

Stunned silence and then pandemonium as her flat statement sunk in: confusion and babbling conversations until John pounded the table for silence.

“It’s quite simple really John.” her eyes never leaving his. “I know what you all call me behind my back and when you’re home with your spouses. I know I’ll never be CEO or even on the board; this is the highest I can rise in your company. Our sales are down 35% this year and 40% the last quarter. They are off 85% from the all-time high and that is simply unacceptable. Therefore, if the sales staff turns the company around over the next two quarters, the winner or winners will have me as their prize.”

“Now wait a minute Sarah! Are you saying you are offering yourself, as a date? Most of the sales staff is married!”

“I’m not talking about a date nor am I talking about merely the sales staff. Every employee from John on down to the janitor is eligible to claim me. Also, there are two prizes available, one to all singles and one to all those in relationships of any kind. The winners get to choose which choice fits them.”

All attention was riveted on her as she nervously licked her lips. “If company sales reach the all-time high by the end of the next two complete quarters, then I want you John, to promote me to the board and make me your designated heir apparent.”

John didn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

”In that case: prize number one. I will present myself in a space large enough to accommodate all those company employees and family members who wish to witness my punishment. I will agree to be strapped down, nude, on a flogging bench and the winner and a guest of their choosing will have two hours to do whatever they wish with my body using hands and implements. No permanent marks or scars and no penetration with sexual organs: fingers, dildos etc. are fine. Prize number two. After a complete public medical exam and intermission of one hour, the winner and chosen guest will have two hours to use me sexually in any manner desired. Again, no permanent marks or scars and this will all happen on a king size platform in front of the audience. The entire performance will be professionally taped with all profits accruing to me and only me. So, does that sound like a plan ‘outside the box’?”

How To entice a man

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An adult poem about spanking, read with caution.

“Happily married”

I used to practice monogamy
until that fateful day
it caught my stunned eye
should have run away

it twitched and swished
long legs in lace
oh how I wished
I’d never kept pace

rounded orbs in silky white
slowly raising skirt
she offered feasts to my delight
then asked to make it hurt

so I did at her request
spanking her very hard
a hundred of the wicked best
but still I held my guard

my hand growing sore
her sobbing breath a rush
I need a hundred more
please grab my bath brush

she writhed and moaned
as I paddled her skin
glad we were alone
so wanted to thrust in

put her hands back
but not to stop me
opened wide her crack
said with aching plea

take my ass
you must agree
deep and fast
teach me sodomy

I trust you

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution.

When a woman says that to a man or a man to a woman or a horse to a cow, what does it really mean? Trust comes from a combination of time and communication. If the answer ‘I trust you’ comes in response for a request to be spanked, then she/he clearly believes the partner understands the parameters.

What kind of spanking?
How hard?
How long?
Punishment or discipline?
Comfort or sex after?
If sex, rough or gentle?

None of these parameters happen the first time or even the one-thousandth time. Trust is a constantly shifting and updating emotion and both partners are equally responsible for maintaining the harmony.

“I trust you.”
“That’s just it honey. I don’t want to hurt you and I’m not sure I trust myself!”
“Dear, spankings are supposed to hurt. I want – no – I need you to hurt me. I need you to break me down, to make me emotional, to cry, to beg, to scream for mercy. I trust you to take me to that place precisely because I know you don’t want to hurt me. But it’s not hurting. It’s healing.”
“How can a paddling that makes your butt red and bruised possibly be healing?”
“I need to purge. I can’t go on any longer the way I am. I’m emotionally frozen, I eat too much; I don’t take care of myself. I need you – literally – to whip me back into shape. It’s not abuse darling don’t ever think that. I need this from you. I need to submit to you and let go of my stubborn bad habits. I trust you: I trust you to spank me so hard I won’t sit down for a week. And I trust you to do it again tomorrow if you think I’ve earned it. I promise you love, I will never hate you for whipping me, because I accept that my punishments have been richly deserved for a long, long time.”
“In that case. Strip naked… now and get over my knees. We have a long, hard session of bodily harm to inflict on your disobedient bottom.”
“Thank you! *sobbing* Thank you!”

R.I.P 9/11/2001

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution.

This is a response to the Flash Fiction Friday #3 at The Daily Toast based on this picture.

The long nights before the first anniversary of 9/11 were the worst for Corrine. That picture, the one of him laughing, shirtless, sweaty, his helmet tipped back and his rippled chest still sent tingles to her pussy. But sex wasn’t what she missed the most. Every time she cleaned his gravestone and left fresh flowers, she cried with remembered pain and pleasure. She was lost without his steady guidance, devoted love and strong will bending her firmly over his knee. Terrified of the hard hairbrush at first, now, Corrine would give anything for one more scorching whipping with his belt: anything.

In lieu of candy

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“Spank Me Hard!… Please?” is a result of of too many stories and too many pictures on the internet. Although it seems very easy to find a spanking partner/s with all the many sites and forums online, it is also very difficult to negotiate the nuances of the ‘scene’. For many spankos the idea of being spanked in public is more thrilling as a fantasy than as an actuality. While there is safety in numbers at a party, letting someone you’ve never met spank you is always a bad idea. Being submissive doesn’t mean agreeing to being abused. It is likely the majority of spankos are content to practice spanking in private with a single partner. The problem though, as stated by many bloggers, is that it is very rare for two spankos to meet before they become a couple. In other words, spanking is not mainstream enough to be discussed on a casual date for most people. And it seems that many women and some men desire to be spanked later in life from their partner and many times that partner is not only unwilling but rather freaked out about this strange new kink. Perhaps if sex-ed treated ‘fetishes’ as within the normal range of sexual behavior and not something dark and deviant, there would be more happy spanking marriages and less divorce.

“He’s sick”

Not what she expected for their 10th wedding anniversary or any other occasion, even for a ‘socially’ accepted birthday tradition, it was still too much. She wanted a vacation, would have been fine with a day spa and would have settled for a nice night on the town.

“So what did he give you?” asked Stacey’s lawyer curiously.

“A cane, a paddle and a butt plug!” she said sarcastically.

“And he expected you to agree to being… beaten?”

“No. He wanted me to beat and sodomize him!” Stacey said with disgust. “I had no idea he was such a pervert. I’m sure he got these deviant ideas from the internet.”

“Well, that is grounds for divorce. Perhaps you’d like surveillance; in case he’s also seeing someone else? A professional so to speak?”

“No, I just want the creep out of my life and away from the kids. Who knows want he wants to do to them!”

“I agree completely Stacy, people like him should be locked up as a menace to decent society.”

Salty tang

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution.

This is a response to the Flash Fiction Friday #3 at The Daily Toast based on this picture.

“All the good ones”

“My panties are soaking.”
“Why?”
“That construction stud.”
“He’s probably gay.”
“Really?”
“He’s probably gay. Any guy who looks that good smiling is gay.”
“Are you sure?”
“No… but it’s been my sad experience with men; gay or taken.”
“Look at those arms though and chest!”
“Yeah, strong muscular arms. Hard lean hands. Thick firm thighs.”
“Sounds like you’d like to get naughty with him.”
“A hard spanking from him? No problem.”
“Pam!”
“What?”
“All that prime meat and you want a spanking?”
“Skirt up, bent over, bare and screaming.”
“I never knew you were so kinky.”
“Try it sometime.”

Looking but not touching

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An adult story about spanking, read with caution.

“An Office Thrashing”

One of curious characteristics of a spanko is the slow and somewhat creepy way the desire becomes an obsession. For Miles Franklin that desire used to be the usual blowjob under the desk by a hot secretary giving dictation but lately, that fantasy had added a dark twist. Whenever Sarah or Madison or Tiffenee or any other of the very hot, very under dressed and very married women on the 27th floor strode purposely past his corner office, the urge to leap out and grab her by the hair, drag her kicking and squealing face down on his desk and proceed to spank her until she moaned for more: his cock was rigid thinking about the designer wool skirt hiked up around her waist and the silk thong corded around squirming thighs. Sometimes the blowjob came first; sometimes afterwards, sometimes… it went right to fucking.

He sighed. That’s why the last untold numbers of relationships had foundered. No matter how adventurous the modern girl was in bed – very adventurous in fact – they all freaked out when he’d oh so politely broached the subject of spanking. Disgust, anger and threats of lawyers were the various responses. No girl, excuse me, no woman in her right mind ever wanted to be spanked. ‘Beaten? What are you? Some kind of pervert? What’s next? Schoolgirl outfit and whips? I am out of here… Jerk!’

“Mr. Franklin?”

“Yes Joan?”

“A Mr. Stanmore to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment but he states it is very urgent.”

“Alright, send him in.”

Miles adjusted himself: one good thing about briefs, a hard cock could be shoved and bent easier than with boxers… or commando. A business smile graced his rather ordinary features and hands rested quietly on the leather blotter.

“Mr. Stanmore, sir.”

“Thank you Joan. Pleasure to meet you. Please, have a seat Mr. Stanmore.”

“Please, call me George. I apologize for barging in on you unexpectedly, but I have some rather disturbing news for you.”

Miles raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “In what matter?”

George took a deep breath. “You know my wife… Ellen, she works here in Accounting.”

“Ellen Stanmore? I don’t recollect ever meeting her.”

“I’m sorry. I should have said Ellen McCrannock, she kept her family name when we got married three years ago. She’s rather headstrong that way… and… in other things.” George trailed off uncertainly.

“I’m puzzled now George. I have no oversight over Accounting and have only seen your wife at company functions. As far as I know, we’ve never spoken beyond casual greetings. How is this my business?”

“Sir, I realize you are very busy but this can’t wait. Would you mind having your receptionist call Ellen and ask her come down to your office?”

Miles sat back in his chair, clearly confused, but George looked desperate and even a little scared, so he did as requested and the two men waited for ten minutes in awkward silence until Ellen knocked quietly on Miles’ door. They both rose and George went to greet his very surprised wife and escort her to his vacated chair. As she sat down and swiveled to look at her husband, he drew the blinds closed on all the windows and discreetly locked the door. Returning to his wife’s side, he said, “You might want to hold your calls.”

“What’s going on George? Why am I here? I’ve never had anything to do with Mr. Franklin. I have work to do!”

“Ellen. Be quiet!” George pressed both hands firmly on his wife’s shoulders, pinning her in the chair. “I asked Mr. Franklin to meet you because of what we discussed last weekend.”

Ellen gasped in horror. “No! You can’t possibly mean that! I’ll never…”

The sound of a slap echoed in the room as George smacked his angry wife’s face. “I said, be quiet. You know what you did, you know the penalty and you know that I, not you, have the final say in the punishment. Not… one… more… word, or it will be doubled. Is that clear?”

Tears welled up in Ellen’s green eyes and her lips quivered as she gazed helplessly up at her stern husband. He shook her slightly and she broke out into open sobs of despair.

“Pftttt. You’d think she’d never been punished before the way she’s carrying on!” He glanced at Miles, “May I call you Miles? Thank you. Here’s the deal. Ellen broke the rules, her rules, not mine and due to… well, let’s just say ‘past indiscretions’ and leave it at that, she agreed that I would decide how, when and where she would be punished.”

Miles put his hands up and leaned away. “You can’t mean…”

“Yes, right here, right now.”

“Fine George… and Ellen… I’ll just leave and let you, er, get on with the punishment then.”

“No Miles. I’d like you, no, I demand you punish my naughty wife.”

A simultaneous intake of outrage, fear and a good deal of excitement from Miles and Ellen. She shook her head and avoided any eye contact. Miles shook his head and felt his mouth hanging open in shock. “Bluh… bluh…”

“Let me explain Miles. Ellen and I have a D/D marriage that includes other people and other… things. Strictly consensual on both our parts of course and the reason I chose you is because Ellen wanted to be spanked by you.” She hunched over in mortification and hid behind her trembling hands. George gently stroked her brunette curls and continued. “She asked around the office and all the girls said emphatically that you’d never touched them or treated them with anything less than professional courtesy. Even when they sashayed past your office in tight miniskirts you never said anything, just undressed them with hungry eyes. There are quite a few spankos on this floor, but none of them have understanding husbands. You see Miles, nothing gets me hotter than watching another man – or woman – using and abusing my lovely wife. And she: she sheds her stuffy accountant attitude faster than her clothes when a tough guy yanks her chain.” He grabbed the back of her head and twisted Ellen’s face so she was staring at Miles. “Isn’t that right, slut?”

Miles saw the varied expressions flit across Ellen’s damp cheeks and the handprint George had left. Hunger and desire were the most prominent. He stood up, walked around the corner of his desk, then perched his buttocks on the edge in front of Ellen. George rolled her back slightly, still holding her firmly at the nape. Her eyes went straight to the bulge of Miles’ slacks. George hissed, “You like what you see?”

Ellen moaned deeply.

George opened his mouth to speak again but Miles cut him off sharply. “I’ll take care of this naughty girl George, you go have a seat on the couch. I think it’s time someone taught this tease it’s not nice to arouse a hard man.”