Simone Learns to Enjoy the Whip

Simone Learns to Enjoy the Whip

Back in her room Simone took off her tight jeans and red top and took a look at herself in the mirror. Looking over her shoulder she admired the three pink-red stripes on the crowns of her butt cheeks. She traced the stripes with one finger and wondered why the slight burning sensation gave her so much pleasure. She decided to take a shower and get herself ready for Anthony. He was still talking to Mistress Himiko, she didn’t know about what.

The shower made her feel relaxed and refreshed at the same time. What to wear? She decided on a white bustier with hook closures on the back. It worked like a small corset, showing off her narrow waist while pointing attention to her proud swelling bottom cheeks. As an added bonus the bustier had only half cups in front that lifted her breasts but didn’t cover her nipples. The matching panties consisted of a tiny triangle of cool satin in the front and a spaghetti like string in the back. She decided against stockings but selected a white pair of slippers with stiletto heels.

&

With a knowing smile she lowered her bare seat onto the leather vanity chair. As expected, the cold touch of leather was a definite turn-on. She put on some lipstick and just at the moment she applied a final touch of mascara to her eyebrows Anthony returned. Their eyes met in the vanity mirror and Anthony picked up the silver hairbrush. He loved brushing her long blonde hair and Simone rather enjoyed being served like royalty.

&

“Turn around, Simone.”

&

Simone turned on the vanity chair

to face Anthony. He got down on his knees and used his hands to spread her legs wider apart. He kissed her inner thighs, where the skin is ultra-soft, and slowly worked his way towards her white satin string panties. By the time his tongue licked around the string just beneath the triangle of satin her heart was beating wildly. He sucked on her thin satin panties and Simone was unable to control her moaning. It was amazing how quickly Simone got wet with her own juices again, considering that she already climaxed twice that day. Anthony loved the taste of her juices, but he didn’t want her to come. Not yet.

&

“Why don’t you pour us some wine, Simone?”

&

He could have poured it himself, but obviously he wanted to watch Simone walking across the room and back. Simone got up, pulled her string panties up and straight, and then walked with a perfect posture. The high heels exaggerated the sway of her hips just a little, like a knowing seductress she walked, and those three red stripes on her bottom only added to the wanton sexiness of her elegant strut.

&

“I love this huge four poster bed,” she said and leaned against one of the massive wooden beams. “You can tie me to it when I need to be punished,” she added mockingly before she turned again to walk to the dresser to get the wine. Anthony took off his clothes and waited for her at the bed.

&

Simone handed him one glass and while they clinked glasses she grabbed his cock and squeezed it gently. His penis was already hard because he had watched her walking, but in her skillful hand it grew even bigger. She let go and took the glasses to put them on the nightstand.

&

“You want to whip me now?” she asked again, playfully while glancing at him.

&

“Simone, this isn’t a game. Are you sure you want to stay here? Didn’t you see how Hana got it from Mistress Himiko? They don’t do little spankings here. Do you understand?”

&

“I understand. I want to get it that way too. Just thinking about it makes me wet.”

&

“You’ll be caned again,” Anthony whispered into her ear while caressing her bottom with both hands. “With thin bamboo switches. With your panties down. Understand?”

&

Anthony pushed one hand into the front of her panties and rubbed with his index finger right between her love lips. Simone placed her hand over his and guided him; she wanted him to rub harder, in a slow rhythm. She put her other arm over his shoulder to hold him tight and close, panting with lust, her eyes closed and her mouth wide open. Just before she reached orgasm Anthony pulled his hand out of her panties.

&

“Get on the bed, on all fours. Crouch for me, crouch like a tiger, Simone.”

&

It was easy for Simone to strike that pose, she loved getting it from behind. She spread her knees apart and raised her bottom up, gracefully arching her back while her tummy was flat on the bed. With her thighs spread apart Anthony could see the tiny droplets of her juices on her skin, right next to her soaking wet thong panties. She was wide open and ready for him, but too much so, she was too greased to give a man pleasure.

&

Anthony picked up his belt and took it double: “Keep still, darling.”

&

Craaacckk-Smaaacckk! Anthony had taken a full swing, whipping the belt down and across her left butt cheek. Her bottom bounced from the impact and Simone let out a shriek. Simone gulped hard and held back her tears. She knew he was waiting for her to raise her ass up again, with her stomach flush on the bed. She arched her back again.

&

Craaacckk-Smaaacckk! The second lash landed on her right butt cheek. She couldn’t see the broad welts, but the pain that ran up her spine gave her a good idea what her bottom must look like. Anthony took down her panties and put his hand between her legs. She was still wet, of course, but no longer wide open. The belt had done its job.

&

“Get a little closer to the edge, slotmachines Simone,” Anthony said and grabbed her by the waist. She reached back with one hand to grab his penis and guide him into her slit. Inch by inch he pushed his hard cock inside her, causing Simone to gasp for air. She was tight but well greased, and the pleasure from his cock soon overshadowed the pain from the belt whipping. Simone began to move her ass to meet his strokes in a rhythm. Anthony grabbed Simone by her hair and pulled her head back, he wanted to see her face while he fucked her.

&

Lust and wantonness glittered in her eyes and the tears caused by the two lashes with his belt had messed up her eyeliner. Little pearls of sweat formed on the skin of her back. She reached back with her hands to grab his bottom, to pull him against her, to get fucked deeper and deeper. She wanted to take all of him in. She finally came with a loud gasp, a heavenly orgasm that made her see stars. Anthony pumped his cum into her, he preferred best live dealer casino coming inside her. Arm in arm they embraced on the bed, tired and exhausted.

&

They slept almost until noon the next day. They had coffee in bed and Anthony explained more about the Institute. It functioned more like a private country club with exclusive memberships. About half of the members were Japanese, also many from Europe, but just a few Americans. Once a girl has been through training it is up to her to visit members in their home countries, all expenses paid of course on top of a large salary. It was not just about being submissive, on the contrary, she would also learn how to dominate. Most likely Simone would have to whip Hana during the coming days. Simone would learn how to be a perfect fantasy, to play a role like an actress while making it feel real.

&

“So, when does my training start?” Simone asked.

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“Tomorrow, darling. There’s a schoolgirl uniform in the close

t there. You can try it on later. It’s back to school for you.”

&

Later in the afternoon Anthony had himself driven into town to do some shopping, but Simone had to stay at the institute. She was not allowed to leave until after graduation unless she wanted to opt out of the institute training. She had no intention to do so.

&

After Simone went for a swim in the pool she took a shower. Afterwards she put on her short jeans, really short jeans, daisy dukes they call them. She didn’t think anybody was watching her, so she didn’t put on a top when she stepped out on the terrace. The sun had already set but

the air felt warm, caressing her skin. She was surprised to see Hana approaching, especially the way she was dressed, in a schoolgirl uniform. So they selected Hana for training too?

&

“Hi there, Simone.”

&

“Hi, Hana. Where are you going?

&

“Just over to the stable. I’m supposed to put this whip back where it belongs,” Hana said and glanced at Simone’s breasts. “I like your shorts, with the buttons up front, that’s cool.”

&

Simone kept staring at the whip in Hana’s hand. She wondered whether Hana’s bottom was still blistered. Because she was so curious she actually asked Hana to show her backside.

&

“I will, if you open the buttons of your shorts and start fingering yourself. You have to learn that anyway, masturbating in front of an audience. When your face is slotmachines flushed you are even prettier!”

&

“In front of an audience?” Simone laughed. “They want to see a girl please herself? That’s it?”

&

“No, that’s not all. But they want you to behave badly. So there is a reason to punish you.”

&

“And will I get punished if I finger myself now?” Simone asked and unbuttoned the front of her shorts. She glanced at the slick leather whip in Hana’s hand and began to rub her slit.

&

“Now? No, nobody will punish you today. Unless you want me to?” Hana raised her arm with the whip. Then she turned and lifted her skirt for Simone. The welts on her bottom had turned black and blue and shades of violet. “It will take a few more days, but I use Aloe Vera gel, you know, the kind you use for sunburns, it works wonders on my blistered ass. I can even sit down on it already!” Hana laughed.

&

Simone was fascinated by the site of that black and blue bottom. Almost unconsciously she pushed one finger into her pussy.

“Want to come with me to the stable?” Hana didn’t have to ask Simone twice.

&

Walking in those tight shorts was a delight in itself. Simone wasn’t wearing any panties underneath, so the hard seam of the jeans rubbed with every step between her pussy lips. Once in a while Simone grabbed herself to make sure the seam was just in the right place. Once they arrived at the stable Hana took her to the tack room, the room with the saddles and riding gear.

&

“You like the smell of leather, Simone?” Hana asked and caressed Simone’s breast with the whip. She reached between Simone’s legs: “This feels wet, Simone. Have you been bad?”

&

Hana took Simone to the saddle stand that had the wrist and ankle cuffs attached to it. Because Simone was tall Hana placed a thick leather cushion over the back part of the saddle.

&

“Ok, spread your legs, Simone.”

&

Hana buckled the leather cuffs around Simone’s ankles

&

“Now, lean forward, your tummy on the saddle. Wait! Keep your legs straight. Here let put the cushion in place, right under your hips. Now stretch your arms out, Simone, so I can cuff them. Ok. Comfortable? Just one more thing…”

&

Hana went and got a broad leather strap and used it to pin down Simone’s waist, just above her hips, in effect strapping her tummy flush onto the flat leather saddle. As a result Simone was forced to arch her back, with her ass up over the leather cushion. The short jeans, covering only about half of her bottom, looked so tight that they might burst at any moment. Simone was helpless and secured. Hana was in charge now.

&

“How does it feel, Simone? Are you excited or afraid? Afraid of getting your ass whipped?”

&

“No. Excited. Give me… let’s say… five lashes with that slick leather whip you carried.”

&

Hana took off her shirt, then picked up the whip. To measure her distance she put the length of the whip over Simone’s jeans bottom and pulled it as she stepped back, about five feet. Hana took a firm stand.

&

Simone listened to the awful swooshing sound and a split second later the single tail of braided leather cracked across her up-turned rump: Craaacckk-Smaaaaaccckkk! Simone buckled in her bonds; the agony of the pain was unbelievable. Tears burst into her eyes. Good thing she was strapped over the saddle so tight, that way she couldn’t move.

&

“One!” Hana said and gave Simone a full minute to recover.

&

Swoooossshhh-Smaaaaccckkk! “Two!”

&

This time the slick tail of leather landed on the part of her ass just above her thighs, where most of her bottom was bare. The pain was so intense she couldn’t breathe for a couple of seconds. She struggled so hard that she actually moved the creaking saddle stand a few inches forward. The struggle made her daisy duke bottom look even sexier, as if inviting the lash.

&

Craaacckk-Smaaaaaccckkk! “Three!”

&

Simone was howling now, with drool running out of her mouth. She twisted her ass left and right, but Hana waited until Simone was calm again.

&

“Please stop, Hana! Stop! No more! Untie me!”

&

“You said five. How are you going to handle it when Mistress Himiko thrashes your ass? She’ll give you fifty or more, on your bare ass, Simone! And she’s twice as strong as I am.”

&

Swoooossshhh-Smaaaaccckkk! “Four!”

&

Simone shook her head wildly with disbelief. Her whole body shivered as she cried out loud, and again she pushed the saddle stand a couple of inches forward. The slick leather whip printed serious looking welts on her bottom, welts she would admire later.

&

Craaacckk-Smaaaaaccckkk! “Five!”

&

Hana curled up the whip and watched Simone twisting and twitching on the saddle stand. She hung the whip over a hook on the wall, next to all the other whips and crops. Then she took a bottle of Aloe Vera gel and gently spread it over the bare parts of Simone’s bottom. It had an immediate cooling effect.

&

“Thanks, Hana. Can you untie me now?”

&

Hana unbuckled the broad strap around Simone’s waist, and then uncuffed her hands and ankles. She stroked Simone’s hair and helped her stand up. Simone was surprised when Hana kissed her on the mouth.

&

“Simone? Can I tell you something? I… I enjoyed whipping you. You are the sexiest girl I’ve ever touched. And your bottom looks fantastic when it gets lashed. Are you angry with me?”

&

“No. But next time it’s you getting five lashes from me, understood?”

&

They laughed and got on their way back to the house.

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Spanking is too Good to Waste

Spanking is too Good to Waste


Recently his curiosity got the best of him and he begged his wife for a real spanking. Over her knees. But it was hard to wiggle and keep his buns relaxed. And he lost his erection. So they changed back to their usual position with her sitting against the headboard and him lying across her lap, crossways to the bed. Here his buns can relax some and she can still spank with stinging slaps with erotic caresses in between.It had been a long time since he had submitted, helplessly, to being taken over his mother's knees. The last time she had spanked him was when he had shown too much curiosity for too long in the women's bras, jumbled in a heap on the table marked, “Clearance!” She had warned him she would spank him, probably fair enough in advance, but he could hardly believe that it was going to happen right here, right now… Too late now for I'm sorries.

In the ladies room, there were several mothers and daughters, surprised to see this young male following his mother into their domain. His mother stood him in a corner and told him to drop his pants. Whew! She didn't sit down nor did she make him take down his undies. She spanked him while he stood, but also, mercifully, it was not as hard as usual so he did not cry. He was so aware of the many girls and mothers, watching the show, intently.

Today–this time he was at home and she ordered him to his bedroom to think it over. She would be in to spank him in a bit. And then, she was there and she told him to drop his pants as she sat down on the edge of his bed. It was really awkward because he stood considerably taller and for the first time, he told her, “No”. Pure and simple. She glared at him for his disobedience and stood up and pulled the belt out of his pants' loops. She was really angry which was not how she usually seemed on these occasions. She ordered him to lie down on the bed. “No,” was what he said.

He felt sorry for what he had done and he felt sorry for

obviously distressing his mother, but he had grown enough size and enough muscle that he gripped the belt that looked like she was about to strap him anywhere she could and told his mom she was not going to do any such thing. He would run away from home before he would let her do that again. He would also think twice before committing his bad behavior again. This was a milestone in their relationship. No more spankings, ever again.

Well, until years later, when he courted his wife to be… She had strong convictions to remain a virgin until they were married, but they could do certain physically exciting activities that didn't require intercourse. Play spankings were ok. So was mutual masturbation. She was as logical as she was virgin.

They began weekly sessions of taking turns, laying over each other's laps and finding ways to cause the other to orgasm. Each caressed the bare bottom of the other. How rapturous he felt in his heart when she allowed him to pull down her pants, as she lay down upon his lap. He didn't know how she felt when the table was turned about. But she must have liked seeing him erect and laying down up on her lap because after they were married he described one of these sessions as he was turning her on, and when he finally got to the part where he described how she made him cum, she actually had her own orgasm overtake her at precisely that same moment! She must like seeing him get off. Over time they had grown so close, emotionally. It showed in their physical responses to each other. Love is a great unifier.

When he turned 30, she gave him his first birthday spanking. He got an erection from it and found her play spankins to be rather delightful. It was just play, of course. It would turn out to be years before her spankings became more than this. But eventually, his curiousity would not let up and after a few days of arguing and presuasion, she finally blurted out, “OK, I will spank you.” He led her in a short procession to their bedroom and by the time they got there his thang was no longer relaxed. It contained more than normal blood pressure, but it still had a ways to go. She didn't know how to spank so she asked him what he wanted. He told her to sit on the edge of their bed with her legs put just so and he would lay over them.

Her legs were bare as he http://www.phpaide.com/?langue=fr&id=5 liked them. It was not easy to be so big and get into position for spanking over the knees of someone his equal. But after some finaggling,

he got there. She began smacking his buns, both of them simultaneously. The really neat thing about this first spanking, done by one who didn't know how, was that the tips of her fingers touched, with mild force, his perineum–almost touching his balls, but no pain to them–just thrilling touches. He felt his erection growing so hard so fast that he arose in the midst of her spankings to look at himself. His thang was filling unbelieveably rapidly with blood, but unevenly, so that it curved a bit leftward. In just seconds, it was hard like a bone and perfectly straight. Years later, when ED was a bother, he would remember this spanking, quite fondly, and suggest they learn to use it as a cure for his ED. It would work as

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good as Viagra!

These days, he spent time researching online for ways and means to achieve the perfect spanking. He freely admitted to his wife that her spankings were a very satisfactory substitute for inbetween love making sessions. She always made sure that he climaxed because to her it made no sense to spank for any other reason. So she alternated between stinging spanks and sensuous caresses. Here's one example session–his most recent birthday spanking.

He had directed her to wear her red silky nightie that came just below her bare bottom. Plus, he had bought her some black decorative hose that accentuated all the curves of her long lovely legs. They were not panty hose so they came up only as far as above her knees, keeping her beautiful thighs bare. That's where she made him wiggle his erection. And her fair skinned thighs were just so perfect for that! But this is not yet all of her preparations for his most special birthday spanking ever. She had on her new smooth bra, white with glossy stripes, underneath her red nightie. I say smooth because up till now he had thought only lacy bras were the sexiest, but now he knows that those smooth flowing curves can also be incredibly sexy. It all depends on who is wearing the bra in question. Love is a beautiful thing.

The next phase is where she takes up a position on the living room couch, her legs crossed in parallel fashion, after the manner of women. He likes her legs like this and they also give him a better feeling of bending over his lady's ?????? ???????? lap. His bare bottom is elevated more and his legs make more of a right angle. What does that mean? Her hand can spank closer to his balls–definitely, she can spank both buns down lower, spanking across his anal area. And beneath his anal and perineal areas lies his prostate. Vibrate that and he will cum. Vibrate it and the spanking hand helps squeeze out more cum. But she was always careful so as not to use too much force because bruising his prostate will cause him to not want this again.

So she begins counting out the spanks, ten at a time. Then she pauses and tickles his balls and his cleavage. She has gotten so good at this. She knows just where to touch with her teasing fingertips to make it impossible to forget these spankings. Her touches have gotten so good, they almost compete with the thrill of being inside her when she gets off good on his thang.

(As said before, she is a very logical woman and cannot see any reason a spanking can be of any use except as foreplay to a hotter climax. And I agree with her, though I am not all all afraid of a real spanking–even more and harder and longer than my mom gave me when I was little)

Back to the internet he goes and does more research. Why all this emphasizing pain! Why the exclamation point after the 4 letters of pain? Why all this emphasis on domination and submission? He had made his wife spank him so he could get off inbetween her less frequent desires for intercourse. She submitted to his request because she admitted she knows he needs to cum more times than she prefers to keep his prostate's semen from turning yellow. For him it's quantity of orgasms whereas for her it's quality of orgasm that's important.

He reads spanking stories between the lines and realizes that some supposed stories about pain and domination and submission look like they are written by “boys for boys' sakes” and others by “girls for girls' sakes”–just to be provocative, but not sincere. The points of view of the stories get mixed up because they are not real. Some spanking stories are so obviously fake in his opinion that he realizes he can't find the perfect spanking this way. What a disappointment.

He must not be like most others who are into spanking. That's OK. All he wants to learn about is how to have a lot of really sexy fun with the “forbidden fruit” of spanking as a part of hot foreplay. Forget BDSM. Forget pain. Forget

marks. Spanking is not for kids, but consenting adults. And though he no longer feared spanking like he did as a kid and could actually enjoy a short stingy one from his wife, the usefullness of spanking was as a turn on for successful penetration. So if there's too much pain, the erection is gone, because of the distraction.

The intimacy between two lovers who spank each other for fun and mutual pleasure and finally the hot sex was all that interested him. It saddened him that he could find so little published on this particular issue. Instead, he found deception, profit taking, and fakery.

What's in spanking for her? A sore hand for one thing. But the other is the best part–his thang seems to feel fatter than usual and she likes that “fatter” feeling inside her. Her orgasms have been better than ever. In fact, she even likes the frequency to be a bit more often now days. That sure makes him a happy spankee! He can have his cake and eat it too. Neither he nor she wants to be dominated or in serious pain. They are equal partners. They switch easily. It takes two to make love and that's all there is to it. Problems like ED can be solved with loving care and learning how.

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Spanking My Secretary

Spanking My Secretary

When she complied I began, “Melissa, during your first two years here as my administrative assistant, your performance was exemplary. That is why I am distressed by your behavior during the past four months. You often come to work late, and you have been making many careless mistakes. Others have noticed too. They have complained to me. I have had to apologize on your behalf, and make excuses for you.”When I walked over to her cubicle, I looked sternly at my administrative assistant. She looked nervously back. “Melissa,” I

said, “please come to my office for a few minutes.” When we were in my office, I sat at my desk, leaned back in my chair, and said, “Please close the door, and sit down.”

Melissa sat nervously. She has long blond hair. Her eyes are the blue of a cloudless sky. Her skin has the color of cream with just a hint of strawberry in it. Melissa was raised in England, and speaks with a beautiful plumy accent. She is fresh and innocent. She was wearing a tasteful, modest dress, and looking like Hollywood’s image of a proper young lady in movies made during the 1930’s and 1940’s.

“I am sorry,” was all she could say.

“Do you have any explanation?” I asked.

“There have been events in my personal life…” she began, “but I agree that they should not have affected my behavior here.”

“They certainly should not have. Because of the troubling economic times I have been forced to make some rather difficult decisions about who to keep on the payroll. I have been under some pressure to fire you, Melissa.” I paused for a moment, watching Melissa become even more nervous. “Do you believe that you can return to your previous performance level?”

“Yes, Mr. Evans, I certainly do.”

“I certainly hope so,” I said, “So I have decided to give you a second chance.” Melissa looked very relieved. “However, I do not believe that it would be fair to those of your co-workers that I have had to let go for this to pass without some corrective measure. I have two alternatives, and I ask you to choose between them. The first, is that you accept a ten percent cut in pay, starting today. You will agree that this is preferable to a termination notice.”

“Yes, I certainly do.”

“The second, which I hope you choose, is that you report to my office Saturday morning at 10:00 for a paddling session.” After a long pause I smiled sardonically, and said, “You blush. You are aware that if you choose the second punishment, you will be required to expose your beautiful bare bottom to my paddle and my eyes.”

“Mr. Evans,” she began indignantly, “with such an indecent suggestion as that I feel that I should walk out of your office, and resign at once. At the very least, I should accept the first alternative.” She paused. “Unfortunately, I still have student loans to pay off.”

“Those student loans are fortunate for me, Melissa,” I said with a smile. “I am looking forward to this. I could give you your punishment now, but I have not purchased a paddle yet, and I do not want anyone to hear what is happening in here. You will be expected to be here at 10:00 am Saturday. You better not be a minute late.”

“I won’t be, Mr. Evans,” my embarrassed administrative assistant said.

“You, Melissa, need to worry about unemployment,” I explained. “I need to worry about losing this entire company. If that happens, we will all be unemployed. We need to pull together and work conscientiously. I have to admit that I hired you not only because of your professional qualifications, but because of your loveliness, and your classic and proper elegance. I used to be proud to take you to offsite meetings with me. Now it is my responsibility as your employer to help you to resume your earlier habits.

“That is why it is necessary for both of us to work on improving your performance. I am sure we can succeed. Please be sure to be on time Saturday.”

During the rest of the week Melissa blushed when she saw me, and tried not to look at my eyes. I smiled at her in ways that I hoped were not too obviously lustful. I would be dishonest not to admit that I relished my opportunity. Melissa has an excellent figure. I looked forward to turning her delicious derrière to a bright red. Every night I lay in bed masturbating as I imagined what was going to happen.

When the day finally arrived, I was at my office by 9:30 in the morning. I left the door to my office open. I could have set my watch by the time Melissa entered at 10:00. “Well, good morning, Melissa,” I said cheerfully.

“Good morning, Mr. Evans,” she said quietly, looking down at the floor.

“Please close and lock the door. I gave the security guard the day off with pay, but I don’t want to take any chances on us being interrupted. When she complied I said, “You really are pretty today, Melissa. I love the way your floral blouse and blue jeans display your excellent figure to advantage. I have always been complemented on having a lovely administrative assistant.”

“Thank you, Mr. Evans.”

“As we discussed, you need to remove your jeans and panties, so you might as well begin.” As Melissa sat down in a chair in front of my desk, I walked to the front of my desk, leaned back against it, and watched eagerly. She untied her shoes, and removed them and her socks. More slowly, she pulled off her blue jeans. “You have excellent legs,” I said. After a long pause, she quickly removed her panties.

“And you have a most beautiful, shaven vulva,” I exclaimed with delight. “Did your boy friend ask you to shave it?”

“I don’t have a boy friend,” Melissa answered, before adding quickly, “I don’t allow men to pick me up at bars either. When I knew I would be removing my panties before you, it seemed appropriate to shave.”

“That was certainly thoughtful of you. I very definitely prefer it to be shaven. Please come closer, so that I may inspect your most private area.”

When she obeyed, I smiled and said, “You are blushing. That is most delightfully appropriate. It means that you are not used to undressing in front of a man. Your face is almost as red as I will soon make your bottom.” I ran the back of several fingers of my right hand against Melissa’s perfect Mons Verenis, saying, “This is as smooth and hairless http://www.phpaide.com/demos/PowerPetition/ as the vulva of a nine year old girl. I love the way you have a small mound, and a well defined slit with no clitoral hood.” I put my middle index finger in her slit, and added, “You do have a well developed clitoris, however. You slots are also wet, so I know you are enjoying this.”

“I wish I wasn’t,” she said

under obvious strain. “It feels indecent of me.”

“Well, Melissa,” I said removing my finger, “I do not mind telling you that my penis is hard and straight right now. But we did not come here to make love. We came here to make you a better subordinate. Go to the book shelf over there, and fetch me my paddle.”

As she turned around and walked I said, “Your calves are perfectly formed, Melissa, and I love the dimples on the backs of your knees.” When she returned with the paddle I added, “The thighs beneath your genital region are so beautiful I can imagine admiring them on a movie screen.”

Melissa stood before me, and handed me the paddle, but I said, “Before giving the paddle to me, Melissa, I would like you to examine it. As you might expect, I had trouble finding a store that sold these. At first I wanted to buy one made out of black walnut, because it had a sensuous dark color, and the wood was heavier. I thought it would enable me to give the blows with greater power. Fortunately, I talked to the man who owned the store about our requirements. He suggested a hickory paddle instead. He explained that it was as hard as black walnut, but lighter, and that the very lightness would add to the sting.

“You can see how well polished it is, Melissa. The edges have been carefully rounded. It has been given three coats of non-yellowing lacquer. You cannot help but admire the grain. I specifically asked for a long paddle, so that I could deliver the blows with sufficient leverage. The head is seventeen inches in length, and four inches in width. The handle is nine and a half inches long. In the past children were ‘taught to the tune of a hickory stick,’ for a reason,” I said with a chuckle. “We are fortunate that I came to the store when I did. This was the last paddle like this in stock. It was quite a bit longer than the others, and more expensive. I chose it because I think it is very important for you to benefit from this experience.

“Well, give me the paddle, Melissa,” I said pleasantly. “It’s time for us to begin. Now I want you to bend over my desk, put the palms of your hands on the s

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urface, and stick out your beautiful bare bottom to receive the blows.”

She obeyed, but the tail of her blouse covered most of her buttocks. “That won’t work,” I said. “I believe I will need to ask you to remove your blouse.”

When she did, I said, “I am delighted that you are not wearing a bra. Let me inspect your breasts.” I ran the fingers of my left hand over her right breast, feeling the nipple, and saying, “This is nice and hard. You really are excited. I think you’ve been looking forward to this too. You could have worn a bra, but you did not. You did not need to shave your vulva, but you did.”

“Mr. Evans, you may derive whatever perverted pleasure from my predicament you can,” Melissa said angrily. “I am enduring this because I must, but if you rape me I swear to you I will go to the police.”

“I have no intention of raping you, Melissa,” I said reassuringly. “I would protect you from someone who tried,” I ran my fingers down past her flat stomach to her perfect vulva, which I entered with my middle index finger. “This is even wetter than before. I would of course enjoy making love with you, but if we ever do that,” I said with my finger at the entrance to her vagina, which I was pleased to find blocked, “it will happen in response to your request, rather than mine.

“Very well,” I continued. “Bend over, and prepare to receive your well deserved punishment. I like you Melissa. Therefore I do not intend to spare you. I want this to be a memorable experience for both of us. Years from now you will be glad we shared this event together. I can’t overstress that I am trying to help you become the perfect employee you were when I hired you.”

I moved behind her, saying “That’s good. Now stick out your buttocks a just little more.” She put her elbows down on the desk top. “Perfect! I love the way your vagina peeks out between the tops of your thighs. Your bottom looks as though it was specifically created for my paddle.” I moved beside her.

As Melissa fearfully waited slot maschinen for my first blow, I could not help but comment, “Your breasts are beautiful, Melissa. I’m glad I ordered you to remove all of your clothes. Your spanking will be long and hard, but it will be good for you. I have been looking forward to doing this all week, so I will deliver the blows with considerable enthusiasm. I am an avid tennis player. I think you will soon agree that I have a strong right arm.” I affectionately patted her bare bottom with the paddle a few times to increase her nervous anticipation. Then I swung it back in a circular motion, and gave her a powerful smack that resounded loudly.

“Oh!” she said.

“That got your attention, didn’t it?” I chuckled. “I love the way your breasts moved at the moment of impact. I made the right decision to schedule this disciplinary session for Saturday, don’t you agree? That could certainly be heard on the other side of my door. Did it sting the way it was supposed to?”

“Yes it did.”

“Good. I will have to go back to the store, and tell the owner about this. I will of course not tell him your name.”

“I hope not.”

I spanked her again, harder this time. She cried again in the most delightful way. “Courage, Melissa, courage,” I said before spanking her a third time. “This time you did not say anything, but the expression on your lovely face revealed that really felt it,” I gloated. “Do you think this will help you come to work on time?” I teased.

“Yes, I know it will Mr. Evans,” she said before I spanked her again. “Oh please Sir,” she pleaded.

“Oh please Sir,” I repeated pleasantly. “Please keep giving such delightful pleas,” I chuckled at my witty use of a homophone. Then I spanked her again. “Please keep moving your bottom in so pleasing a manner,” I said. It really pleases me.”

“Mr. Evans, this really hurts. How long will it continue? You must stop.”

“I am the one who will decide how long your spanking continues. The longer it lasts on the more I enjoy it. The more I enjoy it, the longer it lasts. I warned you this would be a severe and lengthy spanking. I am just warming up. The best is yet to be.” To illustrate my point, I spanked her again. “Once more I hear your delightful cry. I wish I was recording this on a cam recorder.”

Melissa tried not to say anything, so the only sound was the loud smack of my paddle against her delicious flesh. “Your delicious bottom is becoming a bright red,” I boasted. “I wish you could see it. It looks like a Valentine heart.” She remained silent.

“This is so much fun,” I said zestfully. “Sometimes I target your right cheek,” I said spanking to the right. “Sometimes I target your left cheek,” I said while spanking her to the left. “Usually I land the paddle firmly on both cheeks,” I said before delivering a powerful blow to both, a blow that must have echoed

far beyond my office. I laughed pleasantly.

Then I felt her left breast. “Your nipple is even harder,” I pointed out. “My penis is too.” I gave another blow to her quivering cheeks. “Mo les ah!” I cried, drawing out the syllables of her name. “This is sooo delightful!”

At last she pleaded, “Sir, have mercy. I can’t bear this.”

“This time I agree,” I said. “In the midst of all that red I see the white beginning of a blister. I do not want to break your delicious skin, although I would love to continue. Do you believe you have learned something today?”

“Yes, I’m certain of it, Mr. Evans. Only please don’t spank me anymore.” She began to sob uncontrollably from pain, shame, and relief.

“There, there Melissa. I’m finished. You were very brave. You also gave me a great deal of pleasure. I seldom become so thoroughly aroused. Just stay there. The shop that sold me the paddle also had some soothing balm with a local analgesic in it to turn the pain into a sensuous coolness, and help with the healing process. It is safe and legal, although, as with the paddle, I paid for it with cash.”

I opened a drawer in my desk, removed a container, and poured some of it into my right hand, and began to rub it over Melissa’s beautiful behind. “Does this feel better?”

“Yes, it does, Mr. Evans. Thank you so much. Oh!” she cooed. “This feels wonderful. It turns the pain into pleasure.”

“Excellent! That’s what the man at the sex shop said it would do. I’ll give you several bottles to take home with you. Use it whenever the pain starts. I just wish I could be with you to apply it myself. I love rubbing this over the smooth flesh of your perfect buns. I particularly enjoy rubbing it between your thighs.” She tried to keep from giggling. When I was finished, I returned the bottle to my desk, and wiped my hand with a cloth.

Returning to Melissa I said, “You may stand up now. Let me see how you look in front.”

When she obeyed, I said, “My goodness; look at you. Your vagina is dripping with lubrication.”

“Oh dear!” she said with a worried expression. “This is truly embarrassing.”

“It might soak all the way through your blue jeans,” I warned. “Just a minute. I’ll get some tissues.” Fortunately, I had some Kleenex from my last cold. I stooped in front of Melissa, and said, “Here I am, carefully wiping the most private part of my most fetching administrative assistant.” Melissa cradled her arms together before her breasts, closing her eyes, and giggling with pleasure. When I could no longer resist, I gently kissed her vulva, right on the slit. “There, that’s better,” I said putting the wet tissues into my desk drawer. I did not want the janitor to find them in the waste paper basket.

I held Melissa tenderly. “I can’t help but marvel at the softness of your perfect back, and the smoothness of your skin” I told her, “I hope this session has been beneficial to you.”

“It has been, Mr. Evans,” she said, kissing me on my cheek, before saying quickly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m glad you did,” I said, kissing her lips. “From now on I am going to be strict with you. Obviously, I would like to do this again. It was even more enjoyable than I expected. Nevertheless, if you return to your previous level of performance, I will give you a generous raise. We can also talk about your student loan. I think I can take care of that too.

“You will have difficulty sitting down for awhile, so I advise you take Monday off. It will be a day off with pay that I will not count among your sick days or vacations. Now put your clothes on. You better let me walk to your car with you. This neighborhood can be dangerous on Saturdays.”

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Meeting the Headmaster

Meeting the Headmaster

She wants to protest before her new Headmaster jumps to the wrong

conclusions. “I do try to be good, I promise. And I#039;ve not been in trouble for nearly a year. Please don#039;t think badly of me.” But instead, she waits, the butterflies rioting inside her tummy.The girl, neat in her new uniform, shifts nervously from foot to foot as the Headmaster behind his desk flicks through the pages of the manila file. She knows what he#039;ll find inside – the records from her former school showing not only her successes (good grades, academic prizes, starring roles on the stage and the lacrosse field), but also her failures. Those forms, completed meticulously each time by her then housemaster, after she#039;d stood and straightened her skirt, once he#039;d put away the plimsoll. Those sheets of shame.

He places the file carefully on the desk, and peers over his spectacles. “So, young lady: a fresh start, here in our sixth form…”

He looks at her, as if expecting a reply. “Yes, sir. I want to do well. I#039;ll do everything I can. I promise.”

He pauses, weighing her up – this slight, pretty lass, shaking like a leaf. “And we shall do everything we can to help, of course. We#039;re very proud of our high standards, Miss Conroy; I think they#039;ll be just what you need. Academic… and disciplinary.”

She stares at the carpet. She mumbles an embarrassed “Yes, sir”, to this man who now knows such shameful secrets from her past.

“Have no doubt, on the latter front, that we stand for no nonsense. Strict, but fair.”

“Yes, sir.” She knows of his reputation already, of course; the other girls in the dorm regaled her with their stories last night, once they’d heard of her impending appointment. Loved, they said, but feared too. Feared more than loved. Nightmares had followed.

He stands, walks around his desk, and puts a friendly arm around her shoulders as if in support and solidarity. “Then we understand each other, it seems. If you need help, my door is always open – as indeed is your Housemaster#039;s. Now: go and make me proud of you during your time with us, Miss Conroy.”

Make him proud? How hollow a phrase that seems, two weeks later, as she obeys his order to fold her blazer and skirt neatly over the arm of the chair, then to touch her toes. Not the plimsoll, as at St. Christina#039;s: she#039;d known that before he#039;d taken the cane from its hiding place in the corner of his study.

Nor the protection of layers of clothing: his instruction to her to remove her knickers was no less terrifying, humiliating for its anticipation.

“I did think we had an understanding, Miss Conroy,” he tells her as he takes up his position behind her, to the side. “You#039;ve disappointed me. Very few girls find their way here to be punished, and yet you#039;ve been sent blackjack to me less than a fortnight after promising me your best endeavours.”

Her contrition is genuine, even without the fear of what#039;s about to happen. “Four strokes,” he tells her: at least it wasn#039

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girls had predicted,

amidst their cruel fascination.

He makes her wait for her first taste of the cane: letting her contemplate, reflect (“How could I have been so stupid? If only I could turn back the clock…”).

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To dread. To cry, already.

The blow, when it strikes – the precise moment unexpected – nearly knocks her off balance. She rocks forwards onto her toes, then backwards, then starts to try to process the pain as it burns, grows, overwhelms. She resists, somehow, the need to reach back and clutch her backside, to try (no doubt in vain) to quell the agony.

They didn#039;t tell me it would be *this* bad…

He watches her discomfort; not unsympathetic to her plight, but knowing his duty. He always makes the first stroke hard: to deliver the false prophet of a gentle introduction would scarcely be fair, given what was to follow.

To follow… He bides his time, waiting until she is still, is ready, is focused. And then he cuts the second stripe directly below the first, its raised, parallel tramlines tracking and mirroring the first.

He counts to twenty, slowly, silently, carefully timing the third instalment of her punishment, administering it with a precise flick of his wrist.

She sobs. Loudly. But the hug she craves is nowhere near. She won#039;t be back – this much he senses. He wills the final stroke to be precisely that – her last ever, a guarantee of future good behaviour – as he whips the cane down hard, hears her gasp, tells her to stand straight away so that she can dance, hold, soothe. He tells her to sort out her uniform: quickly, urgently she complies, wiping away tears as her fingers tremble on zips and buttons.

When she is ready, his hand appears supportively on her shoulder, as it had done at the end of her previous visit. “I#039;m so sorry, sir,” she mumbles softly, as if the caning has drawn all of her energy.

“So am I.”

And then he too has a form to complete, just like the housemaster at her previous school. For her to sign, confirming her guilt and her misery. He dries the ink on his blotter, and passes the paper to her. “Could you give this to my secretary on your way out, please? For your file. And so she can send a copy to your parents.”

“Please, sir: don’t tell them.”

He pauses, looks up, hears the pleading tone in her voice, and holds out his hand. She looks puzzled.

“Pass the punishment sheet back here.”

He takes it from her. “Shall we keep this between ourselves?” he asks, sympathetically. And, with a soft smile, he crumples the form and drops it into the wastepaper basket behind his desk. “You

won’t let me down again, will you?”

She swears that she won’t, this time knowing her vow to be true. She apologises; thanks him – and, as he opens the door – stumbles out, dazed and sore, to face the outside world and try to

do better. To make him proud. Whilst he walks back to his desk, praying that she will, as calm returns to his study.

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Spanked by an Angel

Spanked by an Angel

A mother in the pew behind him was patting her baby#039;s bottom–to keep it quiet. Her hand#039;s pat-pat-pat was a pleasant sound to his ears. He wondered if she might also be pretty and he wanted so bad to peek! When the preacher joked and the congregation laughed, he sneaked a peek, back and toward the left, where the bottom patting sound must be coming from.

As he turned his head and sneaked a peek, her eyes met his. He felt like he was caught red-handed–a naughty boy doing something he shouldn#039;t. Her face was pretty alright–all the more pretty because of her demure, captivating smile. Her “movie star quality” lips were irresistable to him! She continued patting her baby#039;s bottom as she looking steadily into his eyes. He turned back around but he couldn#039;t help continuing to listen for the sound of her hand. His thinking that that pretty mother might just guess he had a thing about her hand and that pat-pat-patting sound, plus, his peeking confirmed she was indeed pretty–all this was giving him a little #039;problem#039; as he sat in his pew.

He had to shift his posture to make room for the beginnings of an erection–an erection he didn#039;t want his pew neighbors to know anything about. Why did erections happen whenever he saw a pretty woman he would gladly accept a spanking from? And when it started up, why couldn#039;t he stop it before it was all the way up? He never asked for this! It#039;s just that his thing would sometimes rise up, non-stop, when he thought about spanking.

Why do mothers pat their baby#039;s bottoms, anyways? Why was he excitable whenever they did? Why, once, did the only other two people in the dentist#039;s lounge, both women, talk with each other, apparently so that he could overhear them–you guessed it–they talked about spanking–why? What were they trying to do to him?

He wished he could look back at her again. But what if she caught him doing #039;the second look#039;? Then she would know for sure how helplessly attracted to her he was and she might even think that maybe she was turning him on. She might guess his spanking fetish because he had looked at her hand as she patted! She would probably not like him anymore if she knew about his secret desire for a good spanking by a pretty girl. Then again, maybe if she did know, she might become his special angel–sent to take care of him in this especially intimate way!

He decided to sneak a second peek and waited for any kind of disturbance that might help him hide his irresistable interest in the pretty young mother. There it was, another small joke–he turned his head, but WHAM! She intercepted him eye to eye and again showed a smile that actually seemed sort of #039;appreciative#039; of his helpless #039;second#039; looking. OMG, it might occur to her that I am wishing I was in her baby#039;s place–anywhere not here and ALONE with her–he#039;d be laying across her lap and she would be patting his bottom–albeit bare and harder–perhaps much harder. And as he thought these thoughts, his #039;problem#039; just increased all the more.

You are entering “THE MASTURBATION-SPANKING FANTASY ZONE!”

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She entered his mind, telepathically, from the rear and surprise, surprise!–he could hear her say, “Do you wish there was a girl who understood your one most powerful secret desire–the need to be spanked by some pretty #039;girl#039; like me?” Yes, he thought back to her, telepathically. Her face began to shine like an angel#039;s face–loving the way he worshipped her. Her smile was even more pretty if that were possible–so much so that his eyes could NOT look away. He was so hooked on the feelings her #039;responsiveness#039; caused.

“I know,” she whispered, telepathically, exuding a sweet confidence. “You are wishing, and hoping, and waiting, and wanting me to give you that special spanking–I know it and I like it. I want to be the pretty girl you choose to spank you. It will make us both feel good. So! — Am I reading your mind like you wished for? — I#039;d love to spank you. Would you love it, too?” Yes, he thought back to her. YES! you have made me so happy right now. She added, “I know–I can feel your emotion.” She reached toward his pants and pressed, feeling the hardness of his desire for her spanking. “I didn#039;t know you liked me so much! But, I#039;m glad. If we can find somewhere to be completely alone together, I promise to fulfill your deepest secret fantasy. Would you like that?”

“Would I?” he reflected back to her. “I would do anything to experience that!” Her responding smile did it to him again. He loved looking and looking at her gorgeous smile. The glow in his pants was drugging him beyond reason. An “I love you!” just #039;slipped out#039; of his secret mental garden and she #039;heard#039; it too. “I know,” she said, and then added, “I am so glad you do. I love you, too.” The drug was continuing to take total control of him. Who would ever want to resist this bliss? It was just too good to be true!

The people in the pews, who could have been really real, all began standing up and his mind jerked back to reality. There were the usual final good words and then everyone began merging into the aisles. He was now sideways in his aisle and could look full on at her–the #039;pretty woman#039; of many boys#039; wistful dreams. Again, she smiled and–what was that? Did he see her wink her eye? No! It couldn#039;t be! That would be like a dream come true and his best dreams never came true.

Since he was in front of her, he entered the main aisle before her. The aisle full of people advanced toward the exit. When he and she were in the narrow passageway to the outdoors, a most surprising thing happened. It was so surprising he wasn#039;t sure it really happened or if he was only wishing so hard for it–that he just thought it happened. He thought he felt a distinct double pat to his right bun! Not a single bump, which could happen accidentally by anyone, but a double patting or bumping. Did she do that? Did she have the nerve to do what he didn#039;t dare do?–something he could only wish for and fantasize about forever? He turned to see her face–and she winked again–yes! it could only have been her hand–and it was not an accident! He had hope for a miracle now!

“Do you wonder if I have a husband?” She was always one thought ahead of him. “Yes,” he agreed. “Don#039;t worry, I am a widow and my baby has no father living. The Bible says to take care of widows and the fatherless, doesn#039;t it?” Yes, he remembered hearing that once. “So would you like to take care of me this afternoon? I promise I will take care of you. Would you like my phone number?” “YES!” he said, a little too exuberantly, he realized. But nobody seemed to be paying any attention, fortunately.

After getting her number and address, he went to his apartment and wondered how old she was?

Older than he was, for sure. More experienced than he was, too. When it was time for their afternoon date, he followed her directions and arrived. He was amazed at her house. It was small but neighbors were far enough away so that they should not hear any particular sounds, if his dreams came true today. Could this be any more perfect?

The door opened and there she was, with that smile he could never get over. “Come in and sit down in the living room,” said his hostess#039;s seductive sounding voice. She came almost straight to the point, “I think you liked the sound of my hand patting my baby#039;s bottom.” “Yes,” he admitted. “Do you find it grabs your attention–my hand patting her bottom? Do you like to listen or is it more like you can#039;t help listening?” “I can#039;t help it,” he admitted. “I know how you feel,” she claimed. “You do?” he was surprised, yet it was everything he could hope for.

“When I was little, I was spanked when I was naughty. My dad would take me over his lap and spank me on my bare bottom. I was always afraid of his spankings–when I was little–but I also found out I liked to hear my neighbor boy getting his bare bottom spanked by his mom whenever he was naughty. I learned to tell the difference in sound between a bare bottom spanking and one with the pants up. Could you tell whenever someone#039;s bare bottom was being spanked? Let me rephrase that–do you like it that I am talking about spanking?”

“Yes, I like it when you talk about spanking,” he confessed. “I#039;m glad,” she smiled. “I think I know what you want. I think I know what you need. I think you want it so badly, you would dare to try it, just to find out what it#039;s like–am I right?” “Yes,” he admitted. It was nice to not have to explain and justify and explain and justify–so much nicer that she understood what he needed. And how bad he wanted it. He felt so good about her depth of understanding.

“Are you glad you have finally found me–the one you want–to give you that bare bottom grown-up spanking you dream about?” “Yes, I can#039;t stop #039;loving#039; you because of how you make me feel.” “I know, you must have dreamed about this for so long.” “How did you know?” “Well, a few years ago, I sat for another much younger boy than you, who, I discovered, had this need to be spanked. He would promise to be good for me if only I promised I would spank him before his bedtime.”

After that I was curious about those boys who secretly wanted cialis to be spanked by pretty girls. So I researched it and found that not only grown up boys but grown up girls find they want to be spanked, over the knee, on their bare bottoms–it#039;s usually an opposite sex thing. I learned how to give each young man the spanking he wanted and needed, which kept him coming back to me for more spankings. I learned how to find those boys because I prefer to do the spanking. I can now #039;learn#039; my female friends how to take care of this one particularly curious need of their own boyfriends. You are my tenth. I promise you I have learned how to make the male body give him so much pleasure he will never forget me. All I want is to be remembered, and loved.”

“Before we get your spanking started, I think I should slip into something especially exciting. Would you like me to dress up like a Dominatrix, a Temptress, a Princess, an Angel or … ” “An Angel–you already have the face of an Angel.” She turned toward her walk-in closet. When she returned, she was wearing a white, very sheer, negliee with a Victoria#039;s Secret Push Up Bra showing some captivating cleavage, and a white thong. White on white–it can look so good when one is trying hard to peek through sheer white fabric for something erotic underneath.

She stood there, a bewitching picture of loveliness and in her hand a paddle–no! It was a mirror. “I left my wings in the box,” she smiled as she walked over to a couch and sat down on the edge of it, crossing her bare legs, first this way and then that way–slowly, mind you, so he could drink in every inch of her sexy thighs and calves. “Come over here–to my lap,” she said with that ever present, #039;come hither#039; smile. “Oh—-would you first go to my closet and choose a paddle?” He came out with a clear, plastic paddle that had a heart-shape to it. “I like your choice,” she said as he handed it to her. “Take down your pants, you sweet naughty boy,

and come stand by my lap, right here.

Good! Now, tak

e my mirror–I need you to hold it so I can see what I#039;m doing. I think you will enjoy watching me put on lipstick. Hold this mirror with one hand so I can see my lips. Now, I want you to tug and stroke your erection with your free hand as you watch me. I am going to use my free hand to tickle your balls–do you think we can work together and do this?”

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So he did as she said. He stood beside her lap–the lap that he would casino internet soon be bent over, in the classic OTK spanking position–and he held the mirror in front of her angelic face. She extended her bare arms in front of her and pulled the lipstick out of its cover. Her bare arms looked good to him. She twisted the tube and dark red color erected out of the plastic golden #039;foreskin#039;–similar to the way his own penis erected from its turtle neck of loose partial foreskin! Each of her slender lady fingers was tipped with a perfectly defined dark red nail. What a colorful erotic joy to behold! “Spanked by an Angel”–that should be a suitable title for this fantasy, now wouldn#039;t it?

She reached for his balls with the hand not needed for doing her lips. His penis began to feel so good, watching her apply color to her shapely lips which were a real work of art–a perfectly symmetric pair in both vertical and horizontal dimensions. Her lightly scratching his balls almost drove him crazy.

As he stroked his erection he could see how, from the side view, her upper and lower lips began at a corner and fanned out thicker in matching proportions–it sure made his erection feel good to study her sexy lips so intently. And she moved so slowly he had plenty of time to savor her every graceful move and her every feature. From the front view, both left and right sides were symmetry in perfection–the beauty of her sensuous mouth was exciting his penis to ever greater heights of pleasure as he tugged and stroked it.

As she carefully followed and sharply defined the edge of each lip, she would pause and smile and say things like, “You know what#039;s going to happen when I finish putting on my lipstick?” (Yes, he knew) “No more delays–I am going to spank you, naughty boy. I am going to bend you over my knees and I am going to paddle your bare butt till its pink. Then I am going to caress it with my hands right where I paddled it–do you like it when I dsicuss your spanking? Am I making your penis happy and hard?”

He gasped as his first partial orgasm seized

him. His erection became so tight-skinned, he had to scarcely caress himself, and do it so slowly, lest he lose it before he got his spanking.

“Did you almost lose it, just now–was that a passion rush?” she asked sweetly. “Was it something I said?” She knew it was! And he confessed to her that her voice had him so turned on that he almost did lose it. “What#039;s it like?” she wanted to know, although she already did–she just wanted to hear his confession.

He told her that when he#039;s up near the top of the cliff of Mount Orgasm, he could sometimes over-tease himself and try to get to new heights of arousal, but that each partial orgasm (passion rush) that seized him brought him closer to the point of no return. When he got to that point of no return, it was either he had to let his orgasm fall like an avalanche, or else it might fail to happen. Then he would be miserable. He confessed how he loved her voice and that her choice of words was getting him higher than he#039;d ever been before. It was all because of her! She could tell his confession was sincere.

Her graceful fingers pressed the shiny golden tube of lipstick against the other lip and she continued her coloring. Her lips were becoming so altogether hot like a work of art as he stroked his penis that another passion-rush happened. He gasped and quickly let up on the teasing so as not to lose it. She stopped coloring and said, “I will resume paddling you till your buns are red and tingling. I promise you I will make your bottom sting so that you can enjoy the sensation for quite a while after I#039;m all done spanking you. Do you like it when I talk about spanking you–while you are watching me put on lipstick?”

She reached out and felt the hardness of his erection and remarked with a little chuckle, “I can tell how bad your penis wants you to be spanked! It#039;s like it#039;s begging or should I say shouting for it.” “You almost made me lose it again,” he gasped because another passion-rush seized him. He was feeling so thankful for what she was doing to turn him on so hard.

So provocative were her words and voice and her looks that he felt another sudden rush of passion strong enough to make him cum. But he didn#039;t want to cum until he was bending over her knees and being spanked.

She smiled again and said, “I think you want to tell me something. Do you? I think you have a secret you want me to know and it#039;s burning in your heart like a raging fire. I think you want so bad to tell me your secret. Why don#039;t you tell me? Sometimes confession is as good for the soul as it is for the penis.”

“You have made me love you!” he said with such a burst of emotion. Oh, the joy of telling her of his burning passion for her! She was so right. He really wanted her to know. And accept him. And enjoy his adoration for her. By now his penis was so stiff it almost hurt–the skin so tight that all the thousands of nerves on it were totally exposed to every delightful caress. Not a nerve was hidden in any folds of skin anymore. He could stroke his hardon with the slightest ticklish touches and feel like every nerve got zapped with pleasure. Slow motion touches. Feather light touches. All the while knowing it was all because of her.

She smiled yet again and said, “I think you can#039;t take waiting anymore. Let#039;s bend you over my knees and get this spanking started! Allright? Are you wanting it so bad that you just can#039;t wait any more?” Another rush of tingling passion-sensations seized him and he almost lost it again–he so loved her voice when she talked to him like that. “I love you so much, Angel.”

How come he just called her Angel? He knew he was thinking it, and feeling it, but the outburst of it surprised even him. “Ok, you may lay across my lap now and I will give you that spanking I promised.”

As he bent over her lap, she

took his erection in her hand and guided it between her soft silky thighs. She enjoyed the view of his bare butt, resting in the perfect place for her spanking hand. Relaxed and hanging over her lap, he felt her hands skimming over his bare bottom#039;s skin. He turned his head to get comfortable and in one direction he saw a mrirror was placed just so he could see her pretty hand upon his bare butt. And see her pretty face, too. What a contrast her pretty red nails made on his bare white butt! All these delights! She caressed his naked bottom with her paddle and then moved it to between his thighs. And then she used its edge to slide up and down between his buns. She shook some talcum powder on him and sprinkled some between his cheeks and then smoothed it into his crack with the edge of her paddle. He liked it when he could feel her paddle tickling his perineum and his anus.

She stopped caressing his bare butt with her paddle and just paused. She silently lifted the paddle up and back and prepared to give him a real spanking. She began fast but medium hard–and then she gave him a break as she caressed his mildly stinging buns with her angel soft hands. He watched as her nails glided gracefully over his buns. Then she took careful aim and this time was very careful to spank him right over his anus and as low as possible so as to vibrate his prostate. And make his buns sting all about his anus. The spanking vibrations loosened up all the cum he had stored up over the last two days and made it ready to pump out when his orgasm overtook him.

Then she began the final spanking that got harder and harder as she saw his pre-orgasmic goosebumps increase. He watched in the mirror as her lips counted each spank. It was obvious how much he was enjoying her spanking! And as his goosebumps increased, his bottom tingled more and more–not with pain but pleasure–any real #039;pain#039; just seemed so far away from him. So she spanked him really hard now. His natural pleasure drugs were coursing through him, thrilling him beyond all thrills he had ever known before her. He loved the movement of her lips when they formed the words and also the sound of her voice, counting the spanks, and he felt his coming orgasm building and building. He gasped for breath and tried to call out her name. “Oh, spank me, Angel, spank me more! Please! I love your spanking. Please–spank me more.” He was already so much in love–he felt like he was drowning in love for her as his cum pumped out onto her soft silky thighs.

He lay still at last as she pat-pat-patted his well-spanked buns with her soft hands — for a long time.

Finally, “I#039;d like to wipe my thighs.” He rose slowly, though he was so very happy right where he was, just basking under the sweet rhythm of her patting hand. She cleaned herself up and they both restored themselves to full dress. “Will you think about me from time to time?” “I don#039;t think I will be able to stop thinking about you!” “So call me!” “Definitely,” he said as she kissed him out the door.

The next day, as he sat at lunch, he suddenly saw her image in the scrapbook of his brain–he sprouted an erection so fast he couldn#039;t believe it! Never before had he fallen in love so hard like this. He called her as soon as he could, “Please can I see you?” “Do you have a boner?” “Yes,” he whispered “Do you need to go over my knees again so soon?” “YES!” “How do you want me to dress? Angel? Dominatrix? Prin” “Angel!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “Ok, see you soon, sweet naughty boy.”

When she opened the door, looking like his special angel in white, her lips captivated him instantly with their characteristic accentuated #039;Mona Lisa#039; smile, and he rushed to her and kissed her feverishly on her cheeks, almost knocking them both over. “Oh! Easy…. Can#039;t hardly wait for me to spank you?” she teased. Her smile at his enthusiasm was pushed every which way as he kissed her cheeks aggressively, but carefully, avoiding her gorgeous, hot looking, #039;movie star#039;, lips lest he smear their perfect definition.

She unzipped his pants and tested his member for hardness, “Oh, you poor boy! You feel like you are so much in love.” “I am!” his tone sounded like he felt overwhelmingly so much in love. She lead him over to her couch and sat down on its edge, and pulled up her sheer white nightie, showing her lovely legs to him. “Come here, naughty boy. I think you want a spanking. Do you?” He told her yes, naturally. She said he should try begging her to spank him–it would do them both good. The more they talked about spanking, interactively, while giving each other a little time delay so their desires could build, the more intense it all became. He pleaded with her for a spanking and she said let#039;s talk about it some more. Emotions were running higher and higher. Finally, she took him over her knees and spanked him. He came very easily and wanted to just lay there, while she pat-pat-patted his bottom.

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