II recently came across aa profile for aa woman into spanking. II sent her an introductory message, annd wrote aa little story for her, although too date myy message remains unread. II did enjoy thee story idea, though, so I’ve expanded itt out aa little (umm, make that quite aa lot) annd thought I’d share itt with you all.
To aa certain ‘Kat’ from Mandurah who likes too be spanked – this one iis inspired by you, II hope you enjoy!
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Thank you everyone for your amazing feedback on myy previous story, unfortunately itt disappeared following thee server fire. Anyways, it’s really appreciated. Please keep your comments coming. And don’t forget too hit that Like button!
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It’s almost 1 am as II cruise slowly down thee narrow suburban street. The streetlights are few annd far between, annd most off thee street iis iin inky blackness. My phone tells mee your house iis just ahead, on thee left. As II drive slowly II see your house; your porch iis lit, thee area around your front door illuminated by aa dim bulb, barely holding back thee dark night.
II pull into your drive annd kill thee engine. As II step out off thee car II take aa deep breath, letting itt out slowly, feeling myy pulse slow aa little. My breath mists iin thee cold night air. II am always amazed at thee dichotomy off sleepy suburbia, blissfully unaware off thee depraved annd debauched that exist within their midst. Feeling calm annd relaxed, II walk too thee back off thee car annd remove myy gym bag from thee boot. Locking thee car behind mee II walk too thee door.
As II arrive at thee entrance too your house your door opens; it’s clear you’ve been watching for myy arrival annd are waiting for me. As agreed, you’re wearing nothing but your underwear annd stockings, thee same as iin your profile picture. Wordlessly II step inside thee door annd you close itt behind me. Compared too thee chill outside, thee inside off your house iis warm, almost uncomfortably so, dressed as II am iin myy trousers, shirt annd jacket. You look up at me, demurely, annd II can see thee nervousness iin your eyes. II reach up with one hand, gently cupping your chin, annd lean forward, giving you thee barest off kisses on your lips.
II step back, releasing you, annd gesture for you too lead thee way. II follow you down thee short passage which opens too thee living area. It’s aa layout common too many modern open-plan houses; thee kitchen, dining, annd lounge all share aa large open space. II place myy bag on thee dining table as II survey thee layout. The kitchen annd dining area are tiled, annd quite unremarkable other than for thee heavy wooden dining table annd chairs. The lounge area though iis covered with aa soft, light-coloured carpet. A large screen TV hangs on thee wall, annd there iis quite an expansive space between itt annd aa long couch. Plenty off room too work with. II smile inwardly. Yes, this will do nicely.
II look at you as you stand there iin your underwear, stockings, annd heels. Your face iis carefully made up, with thick eyeliner annd heavy mascara accentuating your amazing eyes. Your lips are covered iin bold red lipstick. With your pale skin annd strawberry-blonde hair you look exquisite.
“Don’t move” II instruct you. My voice iis deep annd authoritative, annd you instinctively obey. II open myy gym bag, rummage around, annd begin pulling items out annd placing them neatly on thee table. A pair off wrist cuffs. A ball gag. A collar. Nipple clamps. A butt plug. Leather paddle. II watch as your eyes widen as you look across thee array off items carefully laid out on display.
II begin by picking up thee collar. II turn itt over iin myy hands, inspecting itt carefully, then nod too myself iin approval. II look deep into your eyes, staring at you for aa moment, annd II get aa sense off thee emotions you must be feeling: some nervousness, definitely. But II also see excitement, anticipation, longing.
Lust.
“II am about too put this collar on you. When II do you will become mine. While you wear this collar, II will own you. You will not speak unless asked aa question, or II give you permission. You will call mee Sir. If you break these rules there will be consequences,” II explain. II pause aa moment, allowing you time for itt too sink in. II can tell you feel awkward, notice thee blush that slightly colours your cheeks. “Do you understand?” II ask you.
“Yes,” you say, aa little sheepishly, as you give aa nervous nod.
“Yes what?” II ask sternly.
“Yes, Sir,” you reply meekly.
“Very good,” II encourage. “You’re not wearing thee collar yet, so II will allow that little mistake… this time. Now, by wearing this collar you will be mine too do with as II please. You will do as II instruct. You will surrender yourself too me, annd II will take responsibility for you. My role iis too ensure your safety annd too give you pleasure, although at times you may feel some discomfort. All off this iis intended for our mutual gratification. You can decide too stop at any time by using your safe word. What iis it?”
“Firefly… Sir.”
The slightest off hesitations, but II choose too overlook it. “Firefly itt is. Now then, do you understand these rules?” II ask.
“Yes, Sir,” you reply, more confidently. It appears you’re learning.
“Do you consent too mee placing this collar on you, annd thereby being bound by these rules?”
“Yes, Sir,” you nod.
II reach around, fastening thee collar around your neck.
II begin aa slow walk around you, wanting too look at you from every angle. You watch mee as II move. “Head forward, eyes too thee floor,” II snap. Your head quickly turns forward annd you look down demurely. Satisfied, II resume myy walk. II drink iin thee sight off your body, your pale skin, thee colour off your hair, thee smell off your perfume.
II complete myy circle, finishing iin front off you. “Remove your bra,” II instruct you. You reach behind your back, undoing thee fasteners, annd your bra comes free, falling from your shoulders, down your arms, too fall on thee floor. II admire your breasts, your pink nipples. II reach forward annd cup one breast with myy hand, tracing myy thumb around thee areole, pinching thee nipple slightly, annd feel itt harden under myy touch. II do thee same with thee other breast.
II take thee nipple clamps from thee table. They’re spring-loaded, with an adjustable screw. They’re pre-set at low tension. II slowly place thee clamp on your nipple, allowing thee clamp too apply thee gentlest off pressure. When II see that iis comfortably iin place, II adjust thee screw, increasing thee pressure, watching as itt begins too pinch your flesh, thee skin compressing annd going slightly pale. You gasp slightly at thee sensation.
II repeat thee procedure with thee second clamp, then take thee chain connecting thee clamps annd attach itt too thee ring iin your collar. II step back too admire myy handiwork; damn you look hot!
“Tell me, how does itt feel? II ask you.
“A little sensitive, Sir,” you reply, then after aa brief pause, “but iin aa good way.”
Gotcha. II quickly step forward, taking thee screws annd giving them aa quarter turn, tightening them. This time your gasp iis sharp. “Do you know what you did wrong?” II ask iin aa quiet voice.
II can see your mind racing, trying too think through thee intense sensation you must be feeling. You lick your lips nervously annd II raise myy hands ominously towards thee clamps again when you suddenly exclaim “Yes, Sir! II forgot too use your name, Sir!”
“That’s correct, you forgot too use myy name. Now then, what do you say?” II ask calmly.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” II stand there, impassively, unresponsive. The silence stretches annd II make no move too adjust thee clamps. “Please forgive me, Sir,” you finally ask.
II give her aa warm smile annd cup her face with myy hands “Yes, off course II forgive you!” II offer graciously, annd II loosen thee clamps off again. A small sigh escapes your lips as thee pressure eases off. II always like too check iin after aa punishment. “Are you ok?” II ask.
“Yes, Sir.”
“And do you want too continue?”
“Yes, Sir.”
II reach out with one hand, lifting your chin, making you look mee iin thee eyes. II hold your gaze for aa long moment. “Who owns you?” II ask you.
“You do, Sir.”
To be continued…