You, and Me, and the Devil Makes Three – An erotic tale.

This one is a play on the title of a Marilyn Manson Song added to an unusual setting.  Does it have anything to do with the song…no not really.  My Chesty Blonde lent her voice to a playful intro and outro on the recording along with a few other bits.  The story is here but be sure to give it a listen or you’re missing her voice which is by far the sexiest part.

Listen to The PODCAST

malflic.libsyn.com

Our little story begins a few hours after dark, in a small industrial park that is probably not unlike the ones right by you, but on this warmish mid winter evening there is a cold haze lingering in the air from the melting snow banks.  The parking lot is littered with enough Mercedes and Saabs to be a bi partisan yuppie convention.  It was an odd sight for certain a part of the world usually quiet and isolated by that time of day.  But the large building in the distance covered in dew and through its threshold was the type of thing that many suspect but very few really understand goes on in nameless places with alarming regularity

 

 

Inside the room was filled nearly to capacity, the lights shining ominously through the thick fog, glistening in one spot but mere feet away the blinding flashes of color became muted as they moved in an undulating rhythm that possessed a rabid intensity as the relentless dense cloud moved undaunted through the room.

 

Floating with the fog like an apparition in the night she cast her ghostly shape through the party goers. Each dressed in their finest sexy little numbers.  The men all were handsome and polished, the women exuded an air of confidence as they mingled randomly greeting old friends and embracing strangers as lovers when first introduced.  

 

Holding her dirty little secret deep inside without a hint of her intention, her heart fluttered and her mind raced but to everyone else there was not even the slightest tell of the events about to unfold as she moved toward her lover.   The dress plunged indecently beyond her cleavage and her hips swayed to the music as she approached drawing ever closer.

 

He was chatting away but she caught his eye, he always watched her move with great interest. Her hand touched his arm as she approached just to be certain that she had his undivided attention and more importantly so he would remember her instructions even after he began his random and babbling conversation again. 

 

For all his instincts, his skill and his intellect that fact that he remained seeming if not truly so unaware.  It was a night like so many before, a random place, a well heeled crowd, friends both old and new.  It in his mind it was like so many times before, nothing was different and nothing had changed but as she got ready to spew her dirty little lie she almost felt a twinge of remorse, of reluctance at what she was about to do to him, knowing deep down inside that for him nothing might ever be the same.  The pangs of guilt, the twinge of remorse passed quickly as she spoke it gave way to a refined un expressed excitement and something far more primal.  Her tone remained measured and perfectly clear despite the flood sensations swimming through her veins.

 

 

“Third door on the left lover”  Her voice tempting him, her green eyes shining mysteriously through darkness of the night like the deepest emeralds anyone had ever seen.

 

 Nodding his acceptance.  “No sooner than 10 minutes, I need to find it myself and get ready.” She said handing him another drink before leaving.  Her lie out in the open for all to hear yet no one reacted, perhaps because none of them knew. 

 

Sipping the fresh drink he kissed her adding “See you in a bit”, continuing on mixing and mingling with the same group of friends and strangers.  A man by himself at things like this meant only one of two things her was alone, and most likely would stay that way.  Or his date was off attending to others things, other things in this case that would be revealed not so far in the future.

 

Making his way through the crowd and the smoke he entered a dark hall way, dim red lights kept the passage only slightly visible as he passed maneuvered past the flickering lanterns guarding the corridor dark quiet corridor.  Passing the first door on the right, it was adorned with white linen and gold colored oak leaves.  He could hear distant sounds of countless guests inside, laughing boisterously.

 

The next was themed in themed in the purple and gold of Carnival sporting jester masks and tawdry linens covered in sequins that shimmered even in the dim red light sequins.

 

Finally arriving at the third door on the left, it was old, seemingly as old as time itself, the wood worn and cracked, a small pair of brass horns and a silver pitch fork mounted to its surface.

 

Pausing to make certain he was in the right place he recalled her words ” Third Door on the left”.  Things had already changed, it was the first time they had ventured beyond the main rooms.  Opening the door slowly a frigid blast hit him, one so cold his breath had been all but stolen from him as he entered a room so cold that his eyes began to water and his skin drew instantly in to goose bumps.  A mantle held blazing candles, the floor felt like ice beneath his feet but after clearing his eyes the bed set in the distance was so warn that it and the rows of dark stone tiles round it spewed steam in to the air. 

 

He spotted her in the shadows lingering in a small nook in the room an alcove that sizzled and steamed, raging against the bitter cold, it looked in contrast to where he stood to have been hot enough to be part of hell itself.  The first thing he noticed was her red thigh high boots, their immaculate vinyl leading to heels that were exaggerated by the height of the soles.   

 

She moved in the shadows gazing back, her eyes seemed to glow a dark envious green from behind a jewel encrusted devils mask.  Moving towards him with predatory strides and sinister intent he moved instinctively toward the bed, she smiled in return.

 

Intercepting his line she kissed him on the neck, slowly playfully unbuttoning his shirt. He shivered from the cold but her touch was warm her bared flesh, so warm that it had not yet begun to cool and sent steam from every inch of her being into the shadows around them.

 

 

Removing his shoes his feet touched the floor, a floor that was so cold that at fist it felt like ice and upon placing his second foot onto it realizing that the floor was literally frozen, it felt like ices because it was in fact a dull, muted, gray sheet of ice.

 

Now naked she kissed him again.  Nervously he stated ” this is pretty wild”  She didn’t speak placing herself against him, turning her backside to him as she moved seductively against his body, his lust rising, his concerns about the temperature and the oddness of the room fading with each second, with each caress, and every subtle shift of her warm body.

 

Leading him across the floor toward to the bed, the stone tiles warmed his feet instantly, the warmth radiating though every inch of his being, fighting back the cold he had just been subjected to.  New unexplained sensations rushed through his body like fire as she touched him grinding into him.  His hands danced over her hips, there was something different, something about how she felt in his arms, how she moved, and how she reacted to his touch.  She was like a woman he had known for years but suddenly didn’t seem more than remotely familiar. 

 

Her jewel like eyes gazed out from behind the devils mask and met his as she slide onto his growing lust, moving his girth through her tightness again and again with a growing fury.  Arching her back in delight as he sucked on her nipples, pinching them tentatively at first she moaned in ecstasy as he pinched harder, and yet harder to the point of cruelty far beyond where he had ever dared to take her. Still her cries of delight grew louder encouraging his touch, fucking him rougher with each increase in pressure to the point of a violent, fevered demonic lunacy as she screamed at the top of her lungs.  Air was a bastard she was not in need of as her howls of delight continued on.  The orgasm only fueled her desire, her needs only beginning to come to light, continuing on her second release began to rise began even before the first had subsided.

 

Both bodies shuddering, covered in sweat their passion creating an inferno that caused the air in the icy cold room to warm.

He thought he saw something in the shadows back toward the nook in the room.  His lover’s eyes met his and then the shadows moved again, looking away and then glancing back the shadow took the shape of his wife moving closer. 

Panic stuck him, but the woman in the devil mask only stared at him as she slide him into her again and again, still not satisfied.  He wanted to scream but before he could make a sound hiss wife was next to him, he watched, he waited for her to speak, instead her dress fell to the floor and she kissed the devil and took her place on top of him. Driving him deep inside of her, the other woman stroking her chest, kissing his lips, a faint hint of salt that he hadn’t noticed before, she was so wet, so turned on, he knew instantly she had been watching the entire time.   

After they finished his wife collapsing exhausted in a heap onto of him.  HE whispered in her ear.  “Who is she?” 

She chuckled, kissed him again and whispered back… “She’s the Devil of course!” 

No Pleasure

BE ADVISED This story depicts consensual F/M Spanking play and fantasies and is intended for adult audiences.

That said the last of 3 Fem Dom pieces I’d penned and originally posted elsewhere. If you’re not into such things skip it, if you are enjoy. Will I write more if the mood strikes me, the right idea hits or some wicked friend of mine asks.

A story of masturbation, embarrassment, and finally a sound spanking. It turned out a bit long.

“and I assure you mister you will not enjoy this one bit.” She stated as he was sent upstairs to stand in the corner and get ready for his spanking. Thinking to himself that he has yet not been able to take at least some pleasure every time she put some heat into his backside. He loved the surrender, the sensations, and it turned him on. It always turned him on and this was no different than every other time.

Standing in the corner waiting with an excited sense of anticipation and a growing arousal that spiked as he heard her enter. “ Come over here” turning to see her standing next to a chair at the end of the bed he hurried over finding a hair brush, and a small round wooden paddle laid out. “Strip” she said.

A new twist, normally she would sit and lower his pants and underwear right before he went across her lap. It turned him on even more. As he laid his clothes on the dresser and stood before her naked and fully aroused.

“Now” she said making sure his eyes were focused on hers, holding his gaze. “I told you, you weren’t going to get any pleasure out of this didn’t I?”
Still wondering how she was going to do that “Yes”
“And do you understand that?”

His pause gave her just the opportunity she was looking for “You’re not going to get to fuck me afterward, you’ve been a bad boy.” Nodding in understanding, this wasn’t the first time it wasn’t a play session.

“and this time you’re not going to want to jerk off afterward.” It was the first thing she said that made him pause, he was certain she knew but was stunned at the frankness of the comment.

“oh you didn’t think I knew what you were doing after I was done with you, As you stood up with that hard on of yours then sneaking off to finish getting dressed.” Starting to blush his mind racing but still convinced no matter how hard she beat his butt that soon after he would find pleasure in it and be back to his old tricks.

“Here” handing him a small towel “you will stand here and jerk off before you get disciplined. And I’m going to watch.” He started moving toward the dresser. “No lube hand to skin only.” Although embarrassed and never having made himself cum with anyone watching before he started stroking himself, exploding quickly into the towel. She had never humiliated him like that. He was ordered back to the corner.

Ten minutes later she returned and stood next to the chair. She led him to the chair and bent him over. Smack, a wooden spoon landed on one cheek, and then the other. After each began to sting she paused. Normally he was taken otk and not bent over. “stand up” and he obeyed. Taking his cock in her hand it was half aroused and sprung fully to life again. “I see you’re still enjoying this. I think you know what to do”. Handing him the towel. His hand back onto his member and began stroking it, the head grew sore as he worked himself to another orgasm a few minutes later. After his release as he finished wiping himself off now thought it was time and prepared himself for the next part.

“who said you were done?” she said coldly. “Keep pulling on that little cock of yours until I tell you other wise.” His erection fading from his last orgasm he tried and tried to work himself hard again, changing his stroke, changing his fantasies but it took time as he stood there with her watching as he struggled to keep a half hearted erection up, his dick was getting sore, it ached and the skin was beyond tender and starting to chaff severely. Finally coming, squeezing barely a few drops out before being sent back to the corner.

A short eternity passed as he stood there, wondering what was next but soon was summoned to her side and again was bent over the chair. The wooden spoon applied to his almost still white cheeks just as before and she stood him up again checking to see if he was turned on. Not this time, at least not yet. Bent back over she spanked him fast and hard as the spoon stung with each smack all too close to the last eventually covering his entire bottom. His cheeks glowing and the sensation building she paused and stood him up to find him not nearly as limp as she would have liked and took him in her hand again. Stroking him slowly he hardened slightly again. In the last hour he had been made to cum three times. He always came at least twice in a few hours after a session so the third wasn’t all that much of a stretch.
“still enjoying the though of me beating your butt soundly I see.” Her hand still working him, he want to not be turned on but her voice, her and what he knew was still to happen was too much and she took his hand in hers placed it on him and stated “Again” sitting to watch as he started to fade, she fondled his balls “ You are going to wish you ass was as sore as that raw little cock of yours when I’m done with you.” His pace quickened and he struggled in his mind to find another release and she patted him on his ass as he came. “see I knew you had it in you. Keep going don’t you dare stop.” But with the last one a massive release almost as intense as the first. He couldn’t keep himself hard, she even took him in her hand and her mouth for a moment but he stayed limp and too soon and sore to begin again.

Satisfied he was now taken across her lap and she hand spanked him until every spot was pink and shading toward red. He laid obediently across her lap. She reached for the hair brush and began to put its thick surface to work on him, slapping away mercilessly until he felt it in a way he had never done before. The pain went from a sting and thug to a burning the wouldn’t stop, in part because she was still peppering him with spanks, now at a pace that was slowed so that each one could be felt as she applied more force to them making certain that his discomfort was not only growing but intensifying. It always hurt but this time she made certain that he would remember not only what happened leading up to the trip across her lap but the spanking itself with perhaps more than a delayed sense of arousal for quite some time.
He began to struggle and she held him in place, he tried to reach back. “so you want it on you hand too?” She asked as the brush cracked his ass even harder and suddenly faster. “Fine Stand Up!” And he did quickly “hold out you hands.” She noticed he was still not turned on, perhaps this wasn’t any fun for him, just what she had intended. And placed five with the spoon on each palm. “ Don’t reach back again. or next time you’ll get 10 on each hand like I mean it. Now bend back over that chair and stay there” She positioned him until he was just right, giving an occasion smack with her hand. Finally pleased with his position and taking notice of his already bruised bottom glowing a deep red around the purple splotches.

The first one with the wooden paddle got his attention, and each of the others as he struggled to stay still and just take his beating but hew winced and eventually began to move a little never letting go and never standing up but shifting from side to side and bending his knees. She reveled in knowing that it was getting to him and continued on. Each firm swat sent a loud sharp crack from its searing impact through the room. It was building up so much he wasn’t sure how much more he could take or what was coming next. His bottom fully marked and varying shades of red and growing purple as the wooden paddle continued to be applied to his sit spot for emphasis. He would have those as a reminder for a few days or longer afterward.

She stopped. He stayed in position bracing for the next one, it didn’t come. Still he didn’t move, he didn’t dare knowing that it would get him penalty strokes and he had had more than enough a while ago. “You can stand up.” She offered. He slowly stood, ass still burning and throbbing, admiring her work walked up and squeezed it. He winced and clenched his cheeks and she squeezed harder and added her other hand to the side that had previously been neglected. Soon after she reached around taking his dick in her hand, unlike usual after a spanking it wasn’t hard, it was only in her mind mildly inflated as her hand tugged on his sore member it began to swell ever so slightly.

“That’s not fair.” He complained all too aware of what was going on in the palm of her hand.

“and just when I thought you didn’t enjoy what you received.” Her voice wicked and playful, her strokes becoming rougher as she pulled on him it hurt but he continued to grow. Playing with his balls and then touching his warm ass, slapping at it. “Here you know what to do.” She said, his heart sank his bottom still ablaze and each stroke hurting more than the last, he had never been so raw but as he thought to himself or so well spanked reliving the session as he brought himself closer to another agonizing orgasm. After he was done she milked every last drop out with her hands running them with a firm grip from his ball to the head over and over until dry.

“Still enjoying this?” She asked.
“No, not at all. It really hurt.” He said almost sharply.
“I told you wouldn’t get any pleasure out of this and I meant it.”
He just looked at her waiting to be told it was over.

“Get into position with you hands on the wall.” It wasn’t over, he paused, he wanted it to be but it wasn’t. “It’s not my fault, it wasn’t the spanking that turned me on. It was you. And your hands.” She just laughed “but it’s not fair” he continued. She added to the end of his words. “ I told you what position to get in I’m going to get your braided belt.”

He got into position and took each of the 20 well spaced strokes. Each had just begun to fade as the next was applied. She was right at the end of it all he had gotten no pleasure from any of it and he had never been so sore for so long.

Six Swats for Her

“Men are so much like little kids” She thought to herself when he first tore open the box that had arrived that day. It had the look of so many other boxes that had arrived over the years, plain brown paper, nondescript company name and return address. There wasn’t a doubt that it was something of an “adult nature”. Boxes like this showed up at least a few time a month. The only thing that seemed slightly out of the ordinary, although it didn’t dawn on her until her tore it open was the length of the box. No sooner than the top flaps were open did it dawn on her that this wasn’t a new dildo or vibe, it was another paddle.

“Some men collect Guns, some cars but mine he collects sex toys and paddles.” The tone in her voice dull, she just wasn’t in the mood to play, anything short of a truck load of cash would have received the same jaded response that night. Undaunted he replied “Yes but unlike guns and cars they’re for you and they all get used.” His hands fished through the packing peanuts as he spoke and located his latest purchase, pulling it triumphantly from the box like he had just magically freed Excalibur from the stone.

Her eyes widened, it was not another hair brush, or even a bath brush sized toy She was expecting and in a way hoping he pulled out a leather a leather paddle, maybe even one that was a little wider than the ones already in their collection. She stared as he pulled out a long and wide a wooden paddle that looked like it meant business and nothing but business.

Her mind raced as to why he would have bought such a thing, the first thought was solely on a whim, after all most of their collection was bought on a whim because something caught their eye or piqued their interest. The she began questioning in her own mind if she had done something, anything that might have earned her a punishment spanking. Nothing horrific came to mind, she got a few spanks last week just because and not as part of erotic play. Anything serious had already been dealt with admittedly more playfully than not.

The direct route is most often the best so after a few seconds of awe she asked “what is that for?” He was already standing swinging it playfully through the air and getting the feel of it. “It’s for bad school girls; of course.” Then it all came rushing back the discussion of school paddling he had received and the ones she heard about growing up. Why did she say it; “I’ve always wondered what it was like to be paddled at school.” If that wasn’t an invitation nothing was, but at the time it seemed like nothing more than a passing harmless comment.

She tried to quickly get dinner on the table and she wasn’t about to ask him to help. “have you been a good girl?” He asked. There was no right answer to this one but he let her off the hook by stating. “ You know the worst part about school paddling?”

She shot back “yeah the bruised butts that tree will cause.”

He laughed. “Maybe? But knowing you have it coming and having to go to the office and schedule a time to go get your butt beat like we did in school. The worst part was the waiting”

She knew exactly where this was going, she might not have liked it but got herself into. “After we finish you’ll need to go see the principal and discuss your upcoming punishment.”

She ate quickly, he went at his regular pace, not slow but not quick enough for her. He helped clear the table and do the dishes just like there wasn’t this event hanging over her, he babbled on about his day.

She was almost speechless. She couldn’t believe it she was actually getting nervous, not just excited and a little trepidation like all the other times she had been put across his lap or bent over whatever was nearby but truly nervous, like she imagined she would have been if she had ever been sent to the office in school.

After all was said and done he wondered off to the den, leaving the new paddle in plain sight on the kitchen table. Shortly there after there was a knock at the door way.

“Come in” His voice so unassuming like he didn’t know who was knocking or why.
“Excuse me sir” She said falling onto her role in the event.  He looked up.

“I hope you are running an errand and haven’t been sent here because of another behavior issue.”
She blushed at his words. “Actually sir I have.”

“I see. You’ve been told what would happen if you ended up in this office again.”

Looking at her feet, his eyes meeting hers as she glanced up. “Yes sir” She paused knowing he was going to make her say it “ I would get swats” Her stomach in knots, her knees weak, he hadn’t said hardly anything and she was a wreck. Her mind exploring the horrors his new wooden implement would do to her tender bottom.

“Exactly right and when would you like to come back for your swats?” He asked cruelly knowing she was uncomfortable.

“I would like to take them now” She offered.

“Not at all possible, I have other things scheduled that YOU are making me late for.”

She stood silently “Fine since you don’t have a preference you can show up after the final bell at 2:30 tomorrow and get your swats before you go to detention to think about why you don’t want to be sent to me again.”

She thanked him for setting the time and left the room more nervous than when she had arrived. Not sure what he meant by “detention” but quite certain how long the scene would continue afterward. In a way it still excited her, wiggling her bottom at the thought through out the night of being at his mercy, not quite certain what to expect.

She woke the next morning and as she dressed she looked at her thickest sweat pants not an uncommon choice for laying around the house in on a lazy weekend day but chose Jeans knowing that if she tempted him he might not send her to change but put wood directly to her bare bottom, the thought truly frightened her.

She picked a t-shirt just like she would have when she was in school and as she looked at her panties she picked out a pair that covered her fully and she contemplated putting on a few extra pairs or maybe even a dozen to take some of the sting out. As she played the possibility of him noticing or dropping her jeans and discovering the “padding” would end badly for her much worse than id she just took her discipline as intended.

It was a trick she had used before. Thinking back to the time she had been caught wearing and extra pair of pants for a spanking as a kid, it earned her the only bare bottom spanking of her childhood and it was administered immediately and was twice as long as the one she had gotten before being discovered.

Around 2 she drifted off to her own room, she knew she was going to get it and couldn’t think of anything else. Trying to get it over with she showed up in the den five minutes early.

Shyly knocking and then sheepishly entering the room. “have a seat” he instructed her pointing to a wooden kitchen chair he brought into the room. At 2:30 an alarm went off and her heart dropped and stomach turned.

“Please stand up” he instructed her as he walked over to the corner and picked up the paddle. “Today you will be getting six swats. They will be administered full force over your jeans”

Full force she thought, how hard could full force be? This was not going to be fun it was going to be handled as punishment, just like it would have been at school.

“If you stand up or take you hands off the desk you’ll get more until you learn to stay in position. Understand?”

“Yes sir” she agreed as she made her way to the desk and bent over, hands on the top her bottom pushed out.

She stood for what seemed like forever second passed so slowly that they felt like hours. “Are you ready for your beating?” he asked.

“Yes.” She said weakly nodding. Tapping the paddle on her to direct his aim he drew it back and brought it down causing a loud crack that rang through the room and sent a searing pain into her back side.

He aligned his aim again at exactly the same spot he had just punished, drew his arm back and the second one stuck her already throbbing ass with even more force. She fought the urge to reach back.

The third seared the same spot again, she didn’t plan of sitting at all the rest of the weekend, a small scream entering her throat and escaping her mouth. “halfway there” he said reminding her how much more was to come.

He paused before the fourth, bent over with her ass throbbing he patted her with the paddle, even the taps got her attention, the fourth, she heard the crack of the wood against her backside fill the room. She looked back at him. Hoping for mercy when he saw her face.

“Two more” he said coldly the making the fifth register as the worst so far, her knees buckled and she wanted to cry, a tear welled up and her lips quivered no sooner than she pushed her bottom back towards him the searing pain of the final swat filled the room.

She was filled with relief that it was over, and that she had never been paddled at school. Awash in a mixture of emotions, she was told to stand.

“Before you go to detention drop you pants and lets have a look” he said breaking character. She dropped them quickly jeans and panties in one motion and suddenly eternally grateful she hadn’t tried to lessen the sting with extra undergarments.

He snapped pictures of her, the bruises just starting to show through the fiery red skin, more would be taken later but next she was set on the wooden “detention chair” which only emphasized the effect of the swats and her sore bottom even more. Snapping into character again. He said. “I’m off to call your parents that you’ve been disciplined and will remain in detention a while longer”.

She realized that she was going to get spanked by him again a little later when she “got home” but at least it wouldn’t be with that tree he just used on her.

An all day affair

BE ADVISED This story depicts consensual F/M Spanking play and fantasies and is intended for adult audiences. 

 

For my regular readers this is an older piece originally posted elsewhere. And the 2^nd of 3 Fem Dom pieces.  If you’re not into such things skip it, if you are enjoy.

 

 

 

There is a strong sexual theme mixed in with the spankings.

 

 

It started out like most Saturday’s Joe woke up earlier than Mary and headed off to the gym while she slept soundly.  Nothing unusual 60 minutes of cardio and then he lifted for a bit before heading home.   Their lean toned bodies were usually enjoyed by each other by each other through out the week but Saturday there was a day filled with erotic possibilities and at least one spanking as foreplay if there wasn’t a discipline one to be given that day.  There had been days when each of them paddled each other for various misdeeds but most often they alternated with one topping one week and the other the next purely for erotic play.

 

As he stood in the large glass enclosed shower Joe was particularly horny it had been since the following weekend since they had been intimate and as he washed he began to fondle himself. Watching as he went from washing to playing with himself then back to washing.  “so I see you’re not to tired now!”  His hand freezing in its place mid stroke.  It wasn’t like she hadn’t longed for him through out the week but he was too tired, falling asleep with seeming little or no interest in her needs.

 

Embarrassed that he had been more or less caught in the act mumbled a nearly incoherent response about washing as she approached.  “You better stop that right now, finish your shower and come see me in the bedroom after you’ve dried off.”  Reaching in and stroking him. 

 

Thinking to himself oh how he loved Saturdays typically a day of listless gratification and amazing sex.  Wrapped in a towel his muscular body and cleanly shaven face and balls made their way into the bedroom.  Perhaps he had misunderstood he thought as he entered since she was fully dressed.  Tight jeans, casual heels and curve hugging blouse straining against her large breasts.  She was decked out in her casual sexy best and not sprawled across the bed waiting for him. 

 

Meeting him halfway across the room she walked up and kissed him then reaching behind him patted his bottom.  “Are you ready?”  She asked rubbing his hardening cock through his towel she continued “for today’s sexual adventure” he agreed and after the towel found it’s way to the floor he was led toward the bed gently by his erect midsection.  

 

“Over the corner of the bed you bad boy.”  She instructed pulling off his towel and watching his naked body lay itself over the edge of the bed.  She knew how turned on he got, he knew what was coming and what typically followed. 

 

“I said the corned not the edge.”  She corrected him and he scooted into the position she asked for.  He had never been put over the corner of the bed his knees bent one across the end the other up the side of the mattress, his bottom spread wide with his belly firmly placed on the bed.   “Almost right” she said playfully guiding his hips into the air and back off the edge then reaching for his hard cock and placing it so it was pointed downward.  He was only getting harder with the excitement of the new position and the guiding touch of her hand.

 

“I’m going to spank your bottom” she began her lecture he drank in the words.   “you have been very very bad today” caressing his exposed bottom with her long French manicured nails.  “and if I catch you touching yourself that way again today…” her voice trailing off as he fingers traced up his thighs, cupping his balls in her hand she leaned into him “it will be the wooden paddle with holes in it over the dining room table for you.”  He understood that meant a hard paddling not blushing pinkish red cheeks from playful one. 

 

She began lightly smacking his firm white ass, working it from top to bottom and side to side.  It tingled and began to sting every so slightly and after several minutes of light playful smacks taunting spanks and the continued lecture about how she had needed him especially last nigh she again began to tease his cock a finger pressing small circles into the underside of its head as he began to lose himself in the sensation she stopped and began to pepper his bottom with far more intensity than before as it turned from a slightly less than white shade to a gentle pink as it started to redden.  His arousal obvious for anyone to see hers far more hidden in both her demeanor and inside the denim she was wearing.  She sat on the edge of the bed as he stood up and again took him in her hand. 

 

“so your punishment for jacking off and ignoring me will be this”  she stopped stroking him. “get dressed but to save time today don’t wear any underwear.”  And with that she stood and headed out of the room “I’ll see you downstairs and remember you had better not touch yourself.” 

 

He was filled with lust, never before had she teased him like that during a spanking and she had never teased him to the point of full arousal only to leave him standing there naked, erect, and red bottomed unfulfilled.

 

After dressing he found her sitting in the den watching TV.  As he past the door heading to the kitchen “ Breakfast is in here, coffee and all.”  She called out to him causing him to abandon his planned route and join her.  Quickly spotting the food and more importantly the beverage at the far end of the couch he made a B line for it.  Reaching out and taking his hand as he past.  “was my bad boy well behaved while he got dressed?”  “Of course” he said coolly.

 

She again began to stroke him and immediately he was as aroused as 10 minutes ago she was convinced that at least he had listened to her.  Undoing his pants she continued to toy with him as they fell open.  She worked magic on him as he began feel far off in the distance the potential for an orgasm.  “but you were a bad boy.”  Continuing to stroke him he glanced at her opening his beautiful eyes murmuring in pleasure.  Fighting back her own lust and needs “and bad boys don’t deserve this now drop those pants and get across my lap.” 

 

Not fighting or resisting he let he jeans fall to the floor and placed himself across her knee she picked up his spanking where it had stopped just a few minutes earlier.  Smack, smack, smack her hands landing crisply on his already shaded bottom until he began to wiggle and squirm.  Firm solid spanks well spaced covered his backside and then a few more hard ones before she went back to alternating between teasing his balls and tracing her nails over his now well warmed glowing bottom. 

 

“Stand Up”  she said firmly and as he stood obediently next to the lap he had just been across she toyed with his cock yet again as she lectured him. “You ignored me all week and then I find you beating off in the bathroom.”   Again she held him in her hand long firm stokes the length of his cock as he stood there with is stinging bottom just wanting to ravage her right there and then.  Coffee could always be reheated.  She pulled up his pants and he leaned in to kiss her, not just lovingly but passionately.  “This isn’t going any where.  Do I need to put you back across my lap already?”  Knowing she wasn’t kidding and she wasn’t going to give in he ate his breakfast and gulped down his coffee while sitting at her side, they stared at the TV, talking just like always, real conversation mixed with casual sexual banter.   

 

By early afternoon the couple readied themselves to go out and take care of the things that needed done.  Drop a few things in the mail box, pick up a few things for dinner and a bottle of wine for later.   Gathering his keys she met him at the front door blocking it with all her sensuous beauty before he could open it she finally returned the passionate intention of his earlier kiss.  He knew eventually she would melt her lust got the better of her as often as his did.  Heavy petting and heated grouping of lovers all too familiar with what got the other’s engine running.  Her back against the door, hands massaging his backside and patting it playfully as a reminder of its earlier treatment.   His hands brought her to the edge of release. On the edge of surrender their lips broke apart and she said breathily in his ears.  Not take me, or words of alluring encouragement but “ I left a few things in the office could you go get them for me?”  Couldn’t it wait he thought as her jeans fell to the floor her breasts out of their bra cups the tight T-shirt pushed up exposing them.  “ I asked you to go get them, my bad bad boy.  No go and don’t make me ask again.”    So he did with his belt unbuckled, the button of his jeans undone and his jeans all but falling from his hips as he walked.  Entering the office on the desk was a large pink vibrator standing up.  As he walked over to pick it up he noticed the wide leather paddle laying behind it.  Debating whether to pick one or both he left with both of his hands full and returned to the front door to find his lover fully disrobed and waiting.

 

“ah see you can be a good boy if you want to” she said kissing him picking up whether they left off then taking the toy and the paddle from him Now bend over with your hands on the stairs”  Again tormenting this time by placing the vibrator against his balls, “Five to start.”  His pants around his ankles his still blushing bottom waiting for the swats with the wide and thick leather paddle/  They were hard and spaced the first was a swarm of bees by the fifth both cheeks were flaming each had landed on his sit spot  Staying in position she slithered past him and brought herself to release with the toy inches in front of him as he stayed bent over watching.   “A few more for good measure.” She added as she slipped back around him.

 

Crack another landed then three more before ending with one that landed with everything she had to give.  Helping him back into his jeans as she paraded in front if him pulling on his cock then stopping to be sure he didn’t cum and starting to pull on him again.  His teased taunted and stroked member was getting as sore and raw as his backside but no relief for either appeared to be in sight.  Finally they dressed and left after he used his hands and mouth to get her off two more times.

 

 

 

Later that day as the last bag was carried into the house and placed on the cold stone counter Mary was waiting for him with a wooden spoon in one hand tapping it tauntingly on her open palm She didn’t say a word. Based on the earlier events she didn’t need to. Their excursion out had taken them several hours and in her mind she was now way behind schedule and the entire time she was distracted as she day dreamed about his next little interlude With out being told Joe waited to be told how to position himself as he dropped his pants with out being asked. “Over the butcher block table and make sure your delicate little bottom if facing the kitchen.” She instructed noticing his already mild arousal.

After taking away the chair and positioning himself Mary admired the marks she had left earlier, evidence of his three previous session already that day. No one too long or intense but when combined they had a nice effect. After putting away the last of groceries not needed for that nights meal she approached Joe and tapped sore cheeks with the spoon.

“Here let me help you she said again guiding his hips a little farther back and taunting his cock with her touch as he started to grow harder once again. “Is my bad boy ready to have his butt reddened again?” Joe still reeling with the lust from earlier in the day answered yes only wondering what was next.

“since its almost dinner or it will be when you’re allowed to stand up I want to make sure you remember this meal.” He didn’t like the sound of that not one little bit and she went to work on his sit spot and only his sit spot landing the spoon over and over twice on one side then twice on the other alternating sides until he was dancing in position and stinging like a swarm of bees before placing it on the table next to him. “Stay right where you are.” As she sat the spoon down next to him and walked back into the kitchen as started cooking. Each time she had a few minutes between preparing the meal she would come back over and tease his cock with her hand, fondle his balls playfully as she reached around him her hips pressing in to his back side. He was glad it was only pasta and salad and not a turkey dinner since he hadn’t been told he could move. One minute trying not to moan in pleasure to ignore her touch as she roughly handled him then minute next struggling to hold in position as she peppered his bottom some more with the wooden spoon.

The table was set and his cheeks were fully a glow. Removing the cushion from the wooden chair Joe was told. “ Now sit that bare ass of yours on the chair and if you squirm through the meal I’ll use a little more spoon on you until you do” She wondered if this was ceasing to be fun for him but not a complaint so far, well at least not one other than about his backside. Joe ate quickly, Mary took her time and told him to stay there while she cleared the table.

Joe was sent ups stairs. No other instructions were given so he stripped completely and positioned himself over the corner of the bed like earlier in the day. A few minutes later Mary followed expecting to find him lounging about watching TV and relaxing. Perhaps with a glass wine and the room bathed in candle light. Instead she turned off the over head light and took the liberty of lighting a few candles. Joe was instructed to stand up and face her. “ Now why were you treated the way you were today?” she asked her tone more playful than it had been “was it because you decided to Jerk off rather than have me.” He nodded in agreement. Well then I think it is time to finish your punishment and put this all behind us.

She had him lean forward and put four mild swats with a small paddle on each side. Counting out loud “1,2,3,4 on one and 1,2,3,4, that makes two.” She again began to tease his raw cock bringing him to full mast as it stained to grow even harder. He hand circling the head pressing on the underside and then stroking its length. She held one hand open and slapped his dick against her hand just like she had done with the wooden spoon. “ Look now you bad boy now I’m spanking you cock.” Joe stood silently completely aroused but uncertain when or if she would continue or was it to be like all the times earlier in the day when she brought him so close to orgasm and then went to work on his now ginger backside again. She continued to tug on him, he had never been so sore before as she continued. Circling around him smacking playfully then teasing him some more.

More swats with the small paddle then back to his front. 12 friction filled strokes with a firm grip and them more smacks with her hand. “almost there my bad boy you are almost done. She kissed his neck, dragging her nails across his red ass then swatting him with her hand as he stood there a willing recipient. Most of the next day would need to be spent in loose pants lying on his stomach.

“Do you still want to jerk off?” she ask. “No” he replied. “ Well all day it has felt like someone needed to beat off. I bet those smooth soft balls of yours are aching to explode.” She didn’t wait for the answer. “have you learned your lesson?” again he agreed.

“Well just to make sure kneel down over the foot stool at the end of the bed.”
As he positioned himself across the stool Mary disappeared into the closet. Lying face down he feared the worst, another implement, perhaps the riding crop. She had taken it from him several times but to that point he was never that brave and at this point of the day he was glad he never got around to buying a cane.

He heard her coming back into the room his cock pressed downward and still raging with lust. She liked seeing it, she knew it was hard for her even after all she had put him through today, that he wanted her now more than when he first walked out of the shower in a towel. “Just a few more Love” She told him encouragingly as she stood in front of him in crotch less panties and heels leaning over and patting his bright red ass. He winced with each tap, gasped with each smack and moaned with each caress. Finally after 10 more minutes of torment she helped him to his feet. “now my bad little boy that part of your beating is over with.”

The wording struck him as odd. As she sat on the foot stool guiding him directly in front of her “now you can touch yourself” She said putting a small amount of lube on him, sliding her hand over him again and again the coolness soothing as her hand glided over him.

“Hold out you hand.” As he did she put a few drops of lube on it “Now finish what you started this morning.” Not taking his cue she instructed him “I want you to beat off right here right now and I’m going to watch.” She had just taken him somewhere they had never gone before and as he began by turning him side ways and placed his now lubed hand on his member. He stood between her legs as she sat on the foot stool, a small paddle in her right hand spanking him with quick crisp blows and a vibe on his balls in her left.

With each smack he winced as he struggled past the embarrassment of masturbating in front of her and the pain of the swats made it had to concentrate as he tried desperately trying to finally get off long and day filled with the build up to that moment. Finally bringing on a gushing orgasm the vibrator cranked to full against his balls as his legs quivered in exhaustion and his red and bruised ass getting the last smack of the day.

 

Now it was time to tend to her needs as she laid back kissing her exposed parts, lapping at her she moaned in delight.

Afterwards

She loved her trips over his knee. She’d feign modesty as her bottom was bared his hands so strong but gentle with her. First the buttons were undone, then the zipper slowly lowered. His touch always so sure, so unwavering. Other times looked at him playfully grinning seductively stripping down as she crossed the room toward him until there wasn’t a stitch of anything left on her except for the hair band keeping her long flowing locks tucked neatly in place before she all but jumped enthusiastically across his lap.

Squirming and writhing in ecstasy as his hand warmed more than her bottom up. Teasing and tempting to her it was foreplay at its best. She liked the tingle and the gentle sting each smack brought. The anticipation of the next one and where would it land and just how crisp would it be. She loved the feeling of surrender but knew she was really the one in control. She’d moan in delight as his hand moved from her bottom to between her thighs brushing over her ever so gently. She’d push herself back into him but maddeningly he would lighten his touch, and tell her “not yet”. She’d pine in frustration as her desire grew and he went back to spanking her, a release unto itself before teasing her again. Slow and rhythmic, he played her sensations like a symphony bringing her to a crescendo.

Oh how it turned her on, oh how she knew the magnificent intimacy of those moments and the ones of pure pleasure that would soon follow as they would melt into each others arms and make love for an eternity afterward. Each billowing heaving breaths in unison with the other as in time they would collapse exhausted into each others embrace, fulfilled each time beyond desire; at least for the moment. It was never discipline, it was never cruel. Each encounter over the years left her always wanting more, longing to feel a little more sting.

Slipping into the bathroom she would admire her glowing bottom in the mirror, looking at it from each and every angle, rubbing her hands over it feeling the warmth still lingering but the sting had long since faded. Savoring the occasional small raised mark a finger had left. She would do this often over the next few hours locking the door for privacy until the color in her cheeks had all but faded.

Tonight would be the night, she would ask to stay across his lap just a little bit longer. He would know what she wanted he had always taken his cues from her so very well. He was in the den reading the house filled with soft light and music dancing through the halls. She opened the glass door to the den. There he was sitting on the leather couch reading. The look in her eyes said more than words ever could of as she slowly began to disrobe.

Something was different he thought to himself attempting to determine exactly what it was as her blouse was discarded to the floor. At last her skirt was cast aside onto the chair. Certain that she had his full and undivided attention turned her back to him and removed her thong, her round bottom in his full view. She reached back to the table where his book had been place and facing him in all her glory reached into the drawer took out a brush with a hair band on it and began to pull her hair up.

“That’s it, her hair was down” he thought to himself. As she set the brush on his book and began a temptingly slow descent across his lap. Fidgeting she moved ever so slightly this way and savoring the anticipation stalling not out of fear but wanting to be perfectly positioned for him. Things began as always, her cheeks began to glow he began to tease. She resisted and didn’t push herself towards him.

In time she could feel his lust for her building, she was determined to stay committed, her bottom warm and tingly his fingers tracing across her seat to her thighs as his fingers slid upward on the inner part. She stated looking up at him “not yet” the words she had heard so many times herself.

Her heart began to flutter. Surely he would know what she meant, he had known her so well all these years. Surely this kind man wouldn’t actually make her say it. She was no stranger to sexual banter, but she hoped she would be spared the need to say what she wanted at least this time. She wanted him to know what she needed. His hand stopped exactly where it was at then made its way across her bottom before reaching for the hair brush.

Her back arched, her bottom danced from side to side as it landed on her over and over. The intensity built and built with each passing second as she wiggled and moved across his thighs. He held her in place a hand just above her well heated backside his forearm extending up her back to between her shoulder blades. Finally putting the brush down on the table his grasp lightened she relaxed, drinking in the experience, the throbbing, the arousal, the need to have him, to whisper uninhibitedly in his ear her passion for him. She slowly stood. “I’ll be right back” making her way to the powder room.

She had never delayed their loved making before after a trip across his lap but she couldn’t wait. She had to see herself right then and there. The old wooden door closed quickly and loudly behind her as she bolted into the bathroom. She admired herself in the mirror, first from one side and the other contorting herself in every imaginable position to admire her well spanked bottom. The deep crimson shade mixed in with a few marks from the brush, she had never been so red. She lingered perhaps a bit too long admiring herself. As she reached to open the door no longer able to contain her desire for him. It was locked. She looked feverishly through the key hole. It was not there. They key had not been inadvertently moved to the other side. She tore through the make up bag on the floor. After a few more moments of ransacking the linen cupboard in desperation realizing that she couldn’t find the key.

The next day she found herself fascinated with the marks he had left on her, posing and watching as she studied each shade and mark. Drinking it all in, her bottom tingled as she ran on the treadmill at the gym reminding her of her adventure. In the locker room adorned with mirrors she couldn’t help but steal glances of herself as she walked to and from the shower. When she got home he patted her on her still tender bottom and asked.

“Red enough for you?” Her face flushed as red as her backside had been the night before, embarrassed that he knew all these years what she had been doing afterwards. Then again she shouldn’t have been surprised he really did know her so well.

Teaching Him a Lesson

BE ADVISED This story depicts consensual M/F Spanking play and fantasies and is intended for adult audiences.

That said for my regular readers this is an older piece originally posted elsewhere. It is also a FemDom work which is very rare for me. If you’re not into such things skip it, if you are enjoy.

 

“That’s it!” She began in an irritated manner. She was tired of him always slapping at her bottom every time she walked by. Once in a while it was fine, even flattering but how many times had she asked him to stop today alone? Too many she thought to herself.

“You think smacking my butt is fun so now let’s see how you like it.” He smiled back and laughed it off. After all Joe wasn’t very worried. What was she going to do smack his butt as he walked past. Soon a lazy Saturday afternoon was going to take a surprising change of direction.

“I’d stop laughing if I was you. Since you find a way to work the word spanked into every conversation possible I figured it was time to address your interest.” He was now sitting up and taking notice, she had his attention but it might not exactly what he was thinking.

“I’m going to turn your bottom bright red.” He started to protest, to explain his actions and stopped just short of admitting that he thought about spanking quite often. She was not amused.

“Stand up right now!” There was something in her voice that told him not to disobey. “Go into the dining room stand in the corner and think about the spanking you have coming.” He looked her in the eyes she wasn’t kidding, this was not her playing. As he sheepishly began his walk through the house it was clear in his mind that she wasn’t going to back down. As he rounded the hall more instructions and another requirement was given. “And you had better be perfectly still with your nose pressed in the corner when I get there or you will really be sorry mister.”

Joe stood in the corner for 15 minutes waiting, thinking wondering what was really about to happen. He had been curios about spanking for years but never quite knew how to bring it up. Although until a little while ago he never expected to truly be on the receiving end. Mary entered the room and remained strictly business

“Joe you can come out of the corner. Close the drapes and come over here.” The chair at the end of the table had been moved away off to the side something he couldn’t help but notice as soon as he turned. He closed the blinds and pulled the drapes. Finally making his way to the end of the table where she was standing waiting for him.

The tone of her lecture made sure he understood why he was there. She added all the things that he had failed to listen to her about in recent memory. His stomach nervous and filled with pounding butter flies but there was also something sexual to him about what was going to happen.

As she finished her lecture the time came to start. How bad could it be? He thought to himself until she said. “I’m going to discipline you just like I was disciplined growing up the only difference is its going to be your own belt that gets used on you. Now take off your belt.” She instructed him. He knew she had been “well spanked” as she would put it growing up but he didn’t know what that really meant. Now it seems like something that he should have ask years ago.

It was a formidable piece of leather was over an inch wide, thick and well worn it had been the belt he used every time he worn jeans for years and years. Still not knowing exactly what was coming he told himself 3 maybe 5 licks at the most with the belt over his jeans. Not a problem no big deal.

Mary on the other hand was determined to make an impression. She wanted to teach him that listening to her and considering what she wanted every once in a while was expected.

As the belt slid though the last of the seven loops on his jeans he folded it over and handed it to her she noticed a little more bulge in his jeans than was usually there. This wasn’t actually exciting him was it? She was going to spank him, it had already been set in her mind but now she intended to make sure he knew he was being punished.

“Are you ready for your punishment?” Asking she watched for his reaction. Nervously he admitted that he was. She mistook his nervousness for indifference. Turning him she stood between Joe and the table and began to unbutton his jeans, slowly one button at a time. She ignored his erection and he was told what to do. “step back and lower your jeans and your underwear to your knees” He did so slowly but without protest.

“Lean forward with your hands on the table and don’t you dare stand up! Understand?” He understood and she moved his feet closer together and pulled his bottom further backward giving her a much better target.

“Smack, Smack, Smack” She began with her hand, landing slap after slap on his bottom then paused. “Since you seem so interested in spanking I’m going to beat your bottom just like I used to get. First mom would spank me with her hand.” She peppered his now tingling bottom with her hand as she continued. “I asked you at least eight times in the last two days to stop so it will be eight with the belt.”

His hand spanking continued on until his bottom was getting raw and sore as she smacked from cheek to cheek completely covering his backside but he remained set and stoic. It wasn’t the first time he was spanked it was just the first time as an adult that it wasn’t just playful, a slap and tickle that led to other things. He was determined that she wasn’t going to get the better of him.

Pausing she picked up the belt folding it in half it met his blushing bottom with a moderate swish that stung different than her hand. He didn’t flinch so she swung harder with the second lick but still not a reaction. The third was a full swing and the fourth she had put even more effort into. His legs finally tensed moving ever so slightly. The next four were well spaced and hard and his bottom was welted and glowing.

Knowing that the eighth had landed he began to stand up. “Who told you, you could stand up mister?” swatting his bottom sharply with her hand. “but that was eight” he answered. Two more crisp smacks hit in the same place as the last one as he placed his hands back on the table. Her hand again smacking away at him and after about a minute she paused. He stayed in place hands on the table his seat hot and glowing.

Mary was almost convinced that he had learned his lesson. She was certain that he wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for the rest of the day and maybe even tomorrow. She lectured him about respecting her requests, some where in there he just didn’t seem contrite enough. Sure he answered the questions correctly but what else was he supposed to do.

She sent him and his still bare and shiny rear end back to the corner. He could hear her walking through the house, rummaging around going from room to room. Upon her return he was standing in the corner just like she had left him. “Do you know what day it is?” she asked. “Saturday” he replied.

“yes it is Saturday. Do you know what happens on Saturday?” Her question left him perplexed and he admitted that he didn’t. “if mom used the belt on us at all during the week after lunch on Saturday we got the paddle from dad for acting up.” Suddenly he realized it wasn’t yet over.

“Now get back over here.” She commanded and as he shuffled his pathetic little shuffle, his pants long ago at his ankles and not his knees. “you mister have the misfortune of being paddled on a recently spanked bottom” In her hand she was wielding a half in thick a cutting board.

As he assumed the position he had learned earlier again his feet were repositioned his legs brought closer before starting she centered her aim but tapping the wood on his butt.

CRACK! The first swat landed. His reaction and the buckle in his knees afterward gave her a sense that this really had his attention.

CRACK the second landed and the undeniable mark of a wooden paddle began to show on his already well reddened backside.

The third and fourth followed spaced apart well enough that the full effect of each had settled in. The next left him starting to bruise. She wasn’t swinging that hard but then again it was having the desired effect as the second five left him struggling to hold position as he danced in place trying to ease the intense discomfort. After 10 he was told “stand up, pull up your pants” which he did gingerly “after you’ve thought about why you were spanked open the blinds and go back to your day.”

Nothing else was said until a few hours later when he was lying on the floor watching TV and Mary entered the room not at all regretting what she had done and asked with the sternness of her voice from earlier gone ”did you learn your lesson?”

Joe looked up “yes I did.” She smiled satisfied with her results he was after all laying on his stomach and not sitting. She became convinced that this is something she should have acted on a long time ago far beyond a few playful smacks. He deserved to be treated like a little brat when he acted like one. Until as she left the room he added in a confident tone “ I hope you know that this is a two way street.” She unfortunately knew exactly what he meant and that it was only a matter of time.

Anna’s late arrival part 2 the next night

BE ADVISED This story depicts consensual M/F Spanking play and fantasies and is intended for adult audiences.

 

 

Getting out of her car she dreaded even more what she knew was coming when she got home. The previous night’s session still had a lingering effect on her. So much so that the normally tardy lady arrived home not only on time but a few minutes early, which was a first. As she walked thought the laundry room she saw Mark sitting and waiting in the kitchen, seated calmly at the table looking over the day’s mail. That feeling was back again, that nervous pit in her stomach, the cool sweat on her skin and her heart racing. “good evening.” She offered trying to be pleasant, hoping he had forgotten but deep down knowing better. “well hello, on time I see.” Anna blushed at his response and the last bit of hope that he had forgotten faded all too quickly. She turned toward the kitchen knowing that she was about to receive instructions. She just wanted to get it over with and be done. She stood in front of him, silently, her legs weak and her hands shaking ever o slightly. He kept reading until he was done with the mail and then stacked in neatly looking up at her. “Anna are you ready for your punishment?” She fought back the urge to dispute the use of the word punishment, she had lied and he knew it. On second thought perhaps the word punishment fit. She blushed a deeper shade of red wishing he had chosen a different word, he could have said spanked or paddled and it would have been less embarrassing to her than “punishment”. Instead she simply answered yes.
Looking at her. “Good. then please move the mail to the counter.” She moved cautiously picking it up and walking to the counter. As she retuned she found him standing next to the table a chair set to the side. At last this was drawing near. She hated waiting, shifting all day long on a sore bottom knowing that it would be much sorer not long after she arrived home. She waited for him to take a seat but he kept his eyes focused on hers as she looked at the chair. “Oh you’re not getting off that easy tonight miss.” His hands began to guide hers to the table’s edge. He positioned her leaning forward with her arms straight and her legs planted firmly but spread. Her bottom felt like it was pushed out and just waiting for him. He raised her skirt, she tensed as he tucked its length into her waist band. Then Mark slowly began to lower her panties. “No. Please Mark leave them up.” She ask quietly as he observed her bottom sporting a few lingering bruises and sore spots from the night before. She stood waiting but instead he lectured her on how she shouldn’t have lied, how disappointed he was at her to not follow even the simplest request when she was not in trouble. “you didn’t even listen when you knew what was already coming.”
Finally she thought he was going to begin the lecture had lasted forever, why wouldn’t he just get it over with but he kept torturing her by making her wait. “We’ll start with the spoon.” He proclaimed. He put one on each cheek and then followed it by nine more on one side and then nine more on the other. The smacks landing near or on top of the previous ones. She tensed as hard as she could trying to take the sting out, trying to make it hurt less but her position made that mostly a wasted effort.
As Anna caught her breath she could hear him stepping back and opening a cabinet. Wondering what in the world he was looking for she learned all to soon that it was a half inch thick wooden cutting board. “this should do the job nicely.” Mark said aloud tapping it on her glowing bottom.
“Anna, you need to count them. Out loud. We’ll start with 5 and see from there”
He began the first one taking her breath away, her knees bent. “one” she said finding her way back into position. A long pause letting her feel the full effect of the swat then unannounced the 2nd landed catching he unprepared. “Two” she stated with less than dignified intent. Her resolve to just take her punishment without express was fading away, her stoic I can take this express left her face the third swat landed. This was not fun it had never been fun but the fourth caused her to scream and stand up clenching her bottom together. “fine then it will be ten” Mark said “and you forgot to say four so that one didn’t count.” Each of the next six swats was well spaced and firmly landed on her back side. It felt like the last six had taken an hour to receive. In fact it was a little over 4 minutes. Anna was left lightly sobbing and with a very sore bottom and a bruised sit spot that reminded her of her punishment for days, but at least it was over.

Anna’s Late Arrival part 1

BE ADVISED This story depicts  consensual M/F Spanking play and fantasies and is intended for adult audiences.

 

 

Anna was no stranger to being in trouble she seemed to be in trouble with some where all of the time but when she came home 3 hours late her husband was not amused. He could have cared less that she was late, he trusted her completely but the fact that she was so late with out a word caused him great concern. As he sat there wondering if something terrible had happened on her drive home, had the car broken down, was there an accident and after all she had gone into the city for dinner and the city in general had its own host of potential problems. Fifteen minutes late would have been early, thirty minutes late would have in his world knowing her as well as he did be considered on time. But after 90 minutes from when Anna said she would be home Mark decided to call her. The phone rang and went unanswered. He did what anyone concerned would do and left a message, the call went unreturned.   Anna had heard the phone ring, she had glanced down and knew that it was Mark but she simply didn’t take the few seconds it would have taken to answer. No real reason why other than she didn’t want to miss a word of the fun conversation she was having with her friends.

Time continued to fly by for Anna but Mark sat still distracted by his concerns, each moment passed slower than the last 45 minutes after his first call he tried again. She didn’t answer thinking he would just go to bed. By the time she was pulling into the driveway he was standing at the front window looking out. Just the sight of him told her already in trouble but his glare at her as she pulled into the garage had made it perfectly clear but the events to come were a surprise even to Anna.

“every thing OK?” He asked as she sheepishly entered the house.
She thought about lying but figured that it was best that she didn’t and answered “just fine but I’m really tired and ready for bed”
Looking at her not believing her cavalier attitude. “Why didn’t you call?” He asked. She bust out with “I was having too much fun. I figured you’d just go to bed”
Mark not angry but still concerned “I was worried about you, all you had to do was call.”
That was it she was not in the mood to have her fun evening ruined by his worrying she yelled “ Quit treating me like I’m 10.”
He stood silently for a moment “You’ve been acting like your 10. and that proves it.” She heard a subtle change in his voice, something in his tone now worried her. “I’m sorry.” She offered genuinely.
You think I’m treating you like you’re 10 then I might as well actually do that. Go stand in the corner.” She smiled playfully, Ana loved a trip across his lap from time to time as part of their play. “ You really shouldn’t be smiling” his tone still not playful “ You’re getting spanked but this time it’s not for fun.” She still wasn’t sure if he was just playing until “now go to the bedroom and stand in the corner and think about why you’re going to get spanked.

 
Ana’s stomach sunk just a little, but how bad could it be. He wasn’t really going to spank her hard she wondered to herself. She went up stairs and puttered around the room eventually finding her way to the corner as she heard Mark coming up the stairs. He had heard her footsteps as she paced the room, any mercy he was about to have left when she didn’t follow his instructions.

The door opened slowly and she was by that time tucked into the corner at the far side of the room. “did you go straight to the corner?” Mark asked.
“Yes” she said confidently.
“I know you’re lying now come over here.” As Anna turned she saw he was holding a ping pong paddle, but her heart sank completely as he reached for his belt buckle and began removing that thick and wide piece of leather from his belt loops.

Anan move slowly towards him her eyes cast downward for fear of seeing his. She stood in front of him. “Now turn around, and pull down your pants” It was really happening he was going to spank her there was no doubt about it. It was not a playful trip across his lap but she was going to be disciplined. Her hands fumbled to unbutton her pants, shaking she undid her zipper and began to lower her pants to her knees. “panties too.” He instructed.

 

She pleaded  “no Mark please let me keep my panties”

 

Not amused replying “really do you think that you deserve to keep your panties on? I sat here for three hours worrying. Not a call. You should just be glad I haven’t gotten out your sorority paddle from college” he paused and after a few seconds added “yet.”

Her panties were soon around her knees, she bent forward without instruction just hoping he would start and then it would all be over with. “are you ready he asked?”
Ana replied with a quiet “yes” resolving herself to the now inevitable.
“and tell me miss why are you in trouble?”
She paused to answer but right as she began the first stinging smack of the belt shot across her backside. She gasped.
“because I was late.” She answered
Two more smacks each harder than the last landed.
“No do you want to try again?”
She paused to think but after a few seconds another one landed.
“because I didn’t answer the phone”
three more swats sent it from stinging and uncomfortable to painful. Mark’s tone grew annoyed, was she just goading him. “No, do not move. Keep thinking.” Five more with the belt had landed before Anna called out “Because I didn’t call.” The spanking had stopped, allowing her to continue “ you are spanking me be cause I was very late and I didn’t call. I’m so sorry I made you worry.” Anna started to stand up. “You’re not done yet.” She couldn’t believe it, he was going to punish her more. “now that you know why you’re bent over in front of me, the warm up is over and the real spanking can begin.” Warm up she thought to her self no one gets a warm up with a belt but she thought better of pointing it out to him at that moment.

 
Anna Bent back over and Mark spanked her with the ping pong paddle from the basement. She danced and whimpered but each smack was timed and consistent, building the heat and the pain in her bottom with each blow. None were too hard the belt had bitten much more but the frequency and rhythm seemed endless. And finally when he stopped she had managed to mostly hold herself in position and take her punishment, only once did he have to readjust her bottom which was red and glowing.

“That was for being late. Is there anything else I should know about?” Mark asked.
“I didn’t go straight to the corner. I waited to hear you coming then I went to the corner.”
“ah so you disobeyed me and you lied.” Anna admitted “yes”
“So what happens when you don’t listen and you lie.” He asked
“I get spanked?” she responded, more of a question than a statement.
“Yes, would you prefer that spanking before or after work tomorrow?”
“now I’ll take my spanking for that now please.” Her eyes pleading with him to just get it over with.
“That wasn’t an option. So it will be after work. Now go back to the corner.”
The next day was a long and uncomfortable one as she sat gingerly on a sore bottom worrying about what she had coming when she got home. Amazingly she arrived home on time.

In an ugly world

Rochelle thought to herself, how ugly everything passing outside the windows on the street was at that very moment, as she peered out onto what many people would have thought to be one of the most scenic sky lines in the world.   Then again, she thought that fairly often.  It was not the backdrop, but the people that inhabited it that mystified and offended her so very often.  Her tone mumbling and with no one else to hear “For god’s sake why were people so foolish, so petty, so blind to beauty and what it could do for everyone”  the thought was that most people remained in at least her mind in the darkest ages of dress mankind had ever known.   The world with rare exception was much better viewed at a distance.  It was best seen as an abstract where the lines and colors blended gracefully into one and other like a beautiful collage where no one detail took precedent over another but was a feat for the eyes none the less.

 

She sat in her condo high above the world contemplating the things that were to come that day, things that should have concerned her, things that she should be looking forward to but ambivalence to anything of such stature was all that could be found.  Instead, she obsessed about the depth of her deep dark eyes, the softness of her feet, and other things that perplexed her like a book given as a gift from one of her dearest friends,  “the Complete Book of Running”.  Rochelle and her companions were so often on the front edge of things, their trends would end before the rest of the world would begin them, this trend was one of those but she could not see the forest for the proverbial trees as she stared out onto the park off in the distance.  She pondered with all of her intellectual prowess and to date, uselessly sharpened mind if there was a there a hidden message in there for her as she pawed at the first few pages.  It seemed perhaps even a little too preoccupied with the entire running thing.   That was in her mind best left to men who were paid to do so and poor country children that lacked other means of transportation and entertainment.

 

It was a shallow world that she inhabited, but she studiously spent her life knowing every inch and grain of sand in the small pond  that was her habitat and changed quickly with it as the currents would shift.  She would tell you after all that she had in fact chosen her world and while she believed that in her heart to be one of the purest facts it was the biggest lie anyone could tell themselves.  She had not chosen her world any more than she had chosen to be conceived.   She had not created anything in it, she was simply one of those things that was a dot on the abstract that is life, a dot with exceptional grace, beauty and mind but a dot none the less.  The world she lived in and had committed herself to with an unwavering purity had chosen her and done so from a very young age.

 

“Am I getting fat?” she pondered with delight now standing nude in a dressing area lined with mirrors that alone was larger than most apartments found in the city.  “Of course I’m not” as she looked back at her own reflection it was as perfect as a naked human specimen could be.  Her modest chest with taught breasts, led across a smooth stomach to her petite waist, which of course gave way to her sensuous hips.  She was woman that men would die for in her physical beauty alone although she had so often so much more to offer.  Her honesty, her commitment to something she believed in and of a genuine caring nature, at least if she deemed you worthy of her time.

 

 

 

The day passed and she made her way to meet friends.  It was one of those previously mentioned events that typically would be a high point in a day not filled with very many low points, still today this was just another thing that must be done.

 

The two old men sat to her left, one eating a baked spinach knishes and the other hot pastrami on warm rye.  Each one adorned in their own ill-fitting, off the rack, garments made of questionable synthetics at best were the perfect example of what so often troubled her.  ”It is a travesty and atrocity beyond compare”  She blurted out to her table filled with other impossibly thin, vaguely sober, and equally ungrounded friends at Ben’s Kosher on 7th not far from the garment district.  It was a time when models, designers and anyone who could be associated with the fashion business frequented the art deco laced eatery.  It was in the fashion world as much of an Icon as the hot spots of any era.  It was littered with agency types, up and comers, models, photographers and magazine people.  It was a place to be seen, the midtown fashion world equivalent of the best country and private clubs for the Wall Street set.

 

There in the contrived elegance and fake schmaltz, serious, perhaps even life altering conversations were afoot as Rochelle and her friends picked at their food much like they picked at the surrounding worlds obvious and often obscene imperfections.   Each and every time she went out in public she considered it to an appearance, not the kind you’d find on page six that was for movie stars and wanna be’s but the mere fact that she was gracing the world with her silhouette, her panache, and her knowledge that by just being there she was making the world not only a prettier place but a better one as well.

 

Once, not so long ago, a soon to be former friend asked her if she had married into money.  After all, her upper east side lifestyle was akin to that sort of thing.  It was for most part neither uncommon or shameful. In disgust Rochelle replied that “Marrying into money is nothing more than prostitution, the ugly things you would have to do for the lifestyle were hardly worth it.”  Her tone now acusatory itself finished with, ” My money and life came to me the only decent way it could have….Inheritance!”   Not long after that, the Long Island born acquaintance who innocently ask the question but had in fact married her money was cast aside as any unwanted mutated orphan might be by trite soulless people.  Perhaps held in even lower regard than the same penniless people Rochelle had so often passed on the street quickly and in utter disgust.

 

 

 

There was afoot the notion, and some of her friends even the most refined ones were beginning to accept if not embrace it, that the truly Couture could be produced outside of not only Paris, but France.  To Rochelle, who considered anything not completely created in Paris a mockery and a shamble of rags, sat there on the edge of her chair shaking in disgust at such a thing.  Before her sat her usually well informed and educated peers but how could they suggest this?  Milan for all its fine tailors, its exotic and quality swaths of fabric produced impeccable garments, but to refer to anything as Couture was unthinkable.

 

She argued with logic that Yves Saint Laurent qualified, that they carried the seal needed.  They followed the strict guidelines and standards.  The others just rolled their eyes.   Rochelle who was a purist in the purist sense of the word was not willing to wavier.    She has horrid memories of a home in a pastured wasteland as a small child in Westchester.  It is covered with sprawling lawns and an affluent suburban set which is mere miles from Manhattan, 30 minutes by train.  Yet it might as well have been in the middle of South Dakota to this very day as far as she was concerned.  Fortunately she was rescued from a life that consisted of green grass, room to run, to play and puddles to splash in when it rained that weren’t lined with asphalt.  Her mother who felt equally isolated there moved the family back into the city before she was old enough to start school.

 

As the debate raged on, she recalled all too fondly her first trip to Paris in her late teens accompanied by an overly domineering mother to Channel’s Paris location.  She felt alive there, like a child filled with awe and wonder, to be standing in that great house.   The fittings, the energy of the staff,  the absolute precision.  It was then that she realized that it was a language and world all its own.  Ever since, she had traveled there at least once and often twice a year for new additions, she was awaiting her latest Nina Ricci.

 

The nights at the Lincoln, and all that that often meant, with pomp and posture attended with other well heeled individuals.   She was so often not just a face in the fashion crowd, she was known in the inner most circles.  She was considered an authority, an expert on such things and despite often wondering the streets of both NY and Paris, a fixture at runway shows often as the personal guest of the most renowned designers she was never complementary and polite just for the sake of being so.  Their works were what mattered and achieved accolades only if she felt they warranted it.   Yet somewhere in the distance something was eating at her, that unspoken something that had been a distraction all day, the hours of conversation were merely a way to pass the hours before she had to make her way toward the inevitable.</p>

 

 

 

The thoughts perplexed her as she made her way back up town.  Standing again in her dressing room with wine in hand as afternoon slowly gave way to evening and her most pressing engagement of the day. Again she stood naked in front of those mirrors pondering what to wear, carefully assessing her options and her collection.  Nothing seemed quite right and then at that very moment she noticed it, it had been there all of her life, an imperfection that shook her to her core, the one thing that not all the clothes in the world could hide, the ethnicity of her face and hair.  More so, that damn round face.

 

The bell rang and she slipped into her robe to answer it.  The box of all boxes was in the hands of the door man.  She thanked him emphatically.  Her mood lifted, all of her problems vanished.  The gentleman who rarely thought much of anything his wards received did know her well enough to understand her joy of seeing him with such a plain brown box.

 

Quickly she fixed her hair, and perfected what she could on the round face and obvious nose.  Her pale skin rosed with the softest shade of pink, her lips pouted demurely with a wicked smile, her eyes darker and deeper than they had ever been from her sense of satisfaction.

Moments later taking the elevator down she moved purposefully toward the already open and waiting door.  She crossed the street and made her way into the park each stride bringing her a greater sense of satisfaction, her face still round, her hair covered  as she walked like all the world was watching so strong so confident and then the  thought she had been suppressing all day crossed her mind.  “Let’s see the bitch out dress me now.”  She smiled and then took an appropriately somber face.   After all, she thought “She’s dead.  It’s not like she can go change, all she has left to do is rot.”   And that is how Rochelle paid her last respects to her mother.   By whispering into her ear, “This time it is you that is horridly dressed.”

Thongs, push up bra’s, itchy burlap, and the decay of America’s morality

Greetings from the middle of a cornfield, if there is a hell, it is in the heart land and surrounded by cold winds, dark skies and brown desolate fields…and one very disgruntled foul mouthed and morally liberal east coast bastard or more simply put me. That is more or less where I am at the time of penning this little rant, in a make shift “city” in the great state of corn and formerly great state of a college football team dedicated to corn that now at very best sucks balls.

 

While for those from there might seem like the fourth horseman of the apocalypse but where my current home is had declared the end of the world on AM radio today as I drove to the airport and prepared to climb onto yet another flying phallic symbol.  “WHY FOR GOODNESS SAKE WERE YOU LISTENING TO AM RADIO”  you bellow at the top of your lungs and it is a point well taken the answer is simple…traffic reports.

 

The almost cookie cutter alarmist well informed and morally superior radio personalities come on using their 50,000 watts of influence and state “Tweens and teens in Push up Bra’s and thongs perpetrated by Victoria’s Secret”.  Now look anyone under 25 is probably far younger than I would entertain more than a passing conversation with on topics of a relationship of any type, unless placing a drink order at a regular stop of a watering hole then that is a relationship that I would fully support even at my somewhat advancing age.  But why the outrage?   To validate their point, they had two authors whose names I can’t recall but who claimed to “have their pulse on young people and trends”  they were billed as best sellers and had written books something like “inner beauty and burlap sacks”, and “keep your kitty to yourself you slut boys and grown men only want sex”  ok so I may have gotten the titles wrong but think I caught the general gist of their message quite well.

 

Yes the world is going to end any day not because Pakistan has been plunged into civil unrest and the nut job terrorists could wind up with the bomb, not because al gore has an ever increasing carbon footprint from running all over the earth telling us how to change our lives (try video conferencing instead of a private jet you big wind bag) but because teen age girls are wearing thongs and push up bras.  It’s been a while since I’ve railed against our stupid racist homophobic mentality as a whole but this one got me going yet again.   12 and 13 year old girls with the fashion equivalent of dental floss between their cheeks is the last front of moral decay.  Blah blah blah, ironically the push up bra topic got dropped almost immediately from the conversation…why?  Because flat house wives wear them to appear to have a racks since they were the age in question might be listening to the show.

 

“American business will sell what it can without moral regard.” The host and guests all agreed emphatically with the statement.  I shuddered at the hypocrisy.  Not a word was said about boys going from tighty whities and boxer shorts to skin tight sport briefs.  You know if they paraded though town in those the family jewels could and would be on full display.  But not a word it was all about girls as sexual objects…just like always.

 

 

As I pondered it I wondered what was thought of the decline of hoop skirts, ruffled bloomers and the god awful invention of the tennis skirt and bikini. Moral out rage we must pass out hefty bag like garments to all females immediately or god will smite us.  Warnings of the end and utter demise of our moral boundaries probably echoed through the town square and in the papers.  Men used to always wear hates in public now it is guys in ball caps, a few older men keeping their bald domes warm and wanna be style conscious nut jobs.  (said the shallow man writing this while sitting next to his Burberry overnight bag, talk about hypocrisy!)

 

Then came the “blame the parents” but I would like to offers some of my own suggestions as to why and how to fix this possible dilemma with my typical tongue in cheek manner.

1.  Have a thong burning outside your chosen denomination’s religious establishment.   Burning books has worked so well over the last century it really should be expanded to undergarments.  While your at it I’ll be across town at the local slut fest having a let’s burn your Granny panties party with your sister and husband who also thinks you’re a maniacal prude.

 

2.  Require that all thong purchases be recorded and insist on the purchasers government issued photo id.  Log them into a data base and track these miscreants every movement.  It would also help flush out transvestites, cross dressers, homosexuals and couples  that believe that there are more than one or possibly two acceptable sexual positions.  You really have to watch out for those kinky fucks unless they are ordained ministers or gov’t officials then it is all OK.

 

3.  Random thong inspection stations in publics schools, movies theaters, 4h meetings, and restaurants.   Surely nothing could stem the terrible tide of thong wearing girls and women than that.  Bloomers would of course be issued on the spot and the thongs seized.  Pulled off in a grotesque and painfully embarrassing wedgie until it snapped and was removed over the offender’s head.  Women from 6-80 would fall into the legal search range as to avoid profiling.

 

 

4.  Here’s a keeper hey Susie Fat Ass and Mother Mary Morality.  Lose 170 pounds or so, get a skin tuck or two, buys some heels and strut around feeling sexy instead of blobish for a change.  Now put down the good book, get thee to a gymnasium, and end your 4 decade love affair with Big Macs, things deep fried in lard and resign your post as president at the local “Any Woman under a size 20 is a Whore” Chapter

 

5.  Only sell them with biblical verses on the front, something about wasting a man’s seed comes to mind, also the one about not coveting things, they there is all the ones about only god can judge.

 

6.  Sell them only in mommy and me packages.  Talk about sick that would be troubling.

 

7.  Think of it as a small solution to global warming call your local elected criminal and demant that all sexually based and appealing under garments be made from “green” cotton and silk.  Look at it this way less material even in larger sizes, more could be shipped at once the possibilities of positive environmental impact are immeasurable and far out weigh the moral damage they would cause.

 

Before the conservatives (as if any are brave enough to read me on a regular basis) blurt out.  “Malfic you don’t get it”, or “wait until you have a daughter”, or any other number of things implying I’m in the dark.  Take this in I have two girls that fit in the age range discussed tween and early teens and guess what their undergarments are none of your fucking business and aren’t really any of mine either unless they are strutting though the house in them.  To which a simple “would you put some god damn pants on” usually tends to do the trick.

 

 

Let’s take a poll Go to church an Sunday and look at all the good god fearing women there and count the fake tits, push up bras and guestimate the number of thongs.  Then next week end go to the local swingers club, count the fake tits and thongs but bet you won’t see many if any push up bra’s and odds are the fake tits and bra’s will be greater per capita at church then with the swing set.

 

Here’s another fun fact based on my life and my life only.  Early on and though my college years most of the morally loose women I knew wore the most conservative undergarments day in and day out and the prudes and non adventurous ones were the most scantily clad under their outer layer.

 

Now I’m off to start my burlap, bloomers, chastity belts, and more website.  I intend to market it to the Religious Right, Hasidic Jews, Environmentalists (they like burlap from what I’m told, oh wait that was hemp my bad) and Moderate Muslims by talking about the benefits of virtue, chastity and the time honored tradition of female sexual repression and then use the profits from their puritan asses to put my kids through college at Berkley or NYU.  Which might make them complete ranting nut jobs (like their father) but would at least make them tolerant of others and generally accepting of people as they are regardless of what they do with their genitals and their type of undergarments.