I’d heard other people’s spanking stories, I knew that such a thing existed. But as a young woman of 22 I’d not yet had the chance to find out for myself what it was like - the feel of a firm hand striking my flesh. I’d mentioned it to boyfriends but they’d either ignored me or weren’t interested so I thought I was never going to get my chance.
But with Paul I suspected my luck had changed. He was older, at 36, tall, strong and caring but slightly distant. We weren’t dating yet, but I saw the way he looked at me - taking in my tall, slender frame, my long blonde hair, the hint of cleavage that I always had on show. And particularly my ass. Curvy but firm, it was an ass to be proud of and I certainly was. Pencil skirts for the office, tight jeans for the day, a figure hugging satin job for evenings out. I loved the feel of a man’s hand stroking it, caressing it, grabbing it. Made me feel sexy, seductive.
And yet Paul rarely touched me in the way men normally did. He was never out of control of himself, always holding back. Any desire he showed me was always limited to the intense look in his eyes.
One night at his, I turned up knowing that something was going to be different. He had been building up to something, asking me questions about how open minded I was, trying to gauge how amenable to his suggestions I would be. Clearly I passed the test as here I was, dressed in a simple back dress but with red lingerie underneath. I was ready for anything.
He led me to the living room and poured me a glass on wine. Sitting on the sofa we talked for a while, but it was all small talk. The air between us was charged. From his side it was anticipation of knowing what was to come and from mine the thrill of uncertainty, wondering what he was going to do to me. The power imbalance had been silently agreed and we were both clearly happy with it.
A couple of glasses of wine later, Paul stood up and without saying a word, led me over to the dining table. Stood next to it, he lifted up my dress, exposing my ass. He reached his hands around me and stroked my behind, planting a solitary kiss on my lips as he did so. My heart was racing as he lowered my thong to the floor. He moved his head down to my neck and I tipped my head to one side. I gasped as he ran his finger over my pussy at the same time as gently kissing my neck. He must have felt me getting moist and heard my heavy breathing as he decided now was the time to change the pace.
Bending me over the table, my face against the surface, my arms stretched out in front of me, my feet placed on the floor and wide apart. He started to caress me. His hands were gentle and I instantly shuddered at how good it felt. He ran his hand over my ass, feeling the outline of my shape. Then he slipped down to between my thighs and he ran a finger gently over my pussy, as lightly as before. The one soft movement sent a shock of electricity through me. I wanted more of him now, wanted him to grab me or take me. But he merely continued to gently caress me, his touch controlling my building excitement. I couldn’t see him but I knew his eyes were taking in all of me, my naked body, my exposed sex.
He then leant over me, his body pressing down on mine and the heat of him close to me. I could feel he was hard, his groin pressed against my ass. Leaning in against my ear, he whispered, “Do you want more?” Unable to trust myself not to merely squeak my answer, I nodded.
Pulling himself back to standing behind me, he caressed my buttock again. He paused, I felt nothing and knew nothing of what was happening. Then out of nowhere there was the slap - him striking my ass. I heard the sound of it before it sank in what he had done. I felt the tingle, the sting on my flesh, the rush of adrenaline. A feeling washed over me, of wanting to press myself into the table more, to expose myself more, to be under his control. I knew I deserved it. I couldn’t wait for the next spanking, and didn’t have to wait long before he ran his hand across my other butt cheek. I was raising my ass up, lifting myself up on my toes. The slap hit me and I knew this one would leave a mark on my pale skin. The shame of loving it so much made me blush, made me want to lash out at him back. But I was rooted to the spot, wanting more of that exquisite sting.
“I didn’t hear you cry out,” he said, “I don’t think you’ve been taught any lessons yet.” What should I say, a flash of uncertainty rush through my mind. If I said no, how far would he go? But I knew I couldn’t stop now. “You don’t know how bad I can be. And I love it. Your spanking won’t stop me.” I hardly knew where the words came from, but I wanted to challenge him. His reproach was swift. No sooner had I thought those thoughts than his hand slapped against my ass again, harder this time. Shock, pain and humiliation again consumed me. I was addicted to them all, to his power over me. My silence this time showed him I was sorry for talking back to him. I closed my eyes and waited for my further punishment. He spanked me again, and then again quickly after. The skin on my ass started to burn, I felt hot inside. My body started to change from receptive to bracing myself. I was near the limit. How far would he take me past it. He sensed my fears and stroked the glowing red skin on my buttocks, soothing the pain away. And then, with a pause I had started to fear, I knew he had raised his hand again and I cried out with the contact. I was exhausted, my head and body welcoming the cool of the table surface.
He knew when I was truly his, without any fight left. I had ran the gamut of feelings from ecstasy to shame and was now ready for him to teach me my final lesson, and for him to enjoy my total submission. He slid his hands under my hips and raised me up, to the position I had moments before been straining to put myself in. I relaxed into whatever position he wanted for me. He entered me smoothly, silently and firmly. He held himself still inside me for a moment, taking in the moment of his conquest. Then, with authority, he took me. With a few thrusts, I felt my body start to tremble and tense before the climax ripped through me. With the energy I had left, I whispered his name as I was coming. He continued to drive his cock into me with his grip on me tightening as he approached his orgasm. With his last, hard thrusts he silently shot his load into me - his triumph and my surrender was complete.
No comments:
Post a Comment