Naked Oblivion

Jen spoke over the car radio, breaking a 5-minute silence. “Don’t go on the interstate,” she said. “Turn here and go back to the apartment.”

“Why? Are we not going to eat?” Jason asked, in the same sarcastic tone he had used all afternoon.

“Yes, we’re going to eat,” she said. “But you will be sitting on a sore bottom.”

He fell silent at that, and clicked off the radio in his red Mustang while turning back toward their apartment. He had been a brat all afternoon, and he knew it. He didn’t open her car door after any of their stops, smarted off about several different things, and openly pouted when she wanted to go into a music store because he wanted to go to a sporting goods store.

Spanking had been a part of their marriage from the beginning. They still had the same chemistry, the sparks between them that they had when they began dating five years ago. He knew he had been pushing his luck all afternoon, but he didn’t realize he had crossed the line. She had spanked him hard with the small oak paddle three nights ago, and the bruises were just beginning to fade. While he loved receiving a hard spanking, he didn’t relish the idea right now, on an already-sore bottom, just before dinner. His smart-aleck attitude immediately evaporated, and he tried to mend fences.

“Jen, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know I was a brat at times today, but let’s just go get supper like we had planned.”

“No,” she said sharply, immediately. “It’s too late for all that. You’ve been bad, and we need to address that right now. I think you’ll have a far different attitude at the restaurant this way than if we just ignored your behavior.”

Neither of them spoke for a block or two. She turned the radio back on, popped in a Dar Williams CD. Within minutes, he swung the car into the parking lot of their apartment complex.

“Go straight to the bedroom,” she said as they got out. She picked up several packages from their shopping trip and began to climb the stairs to their second-floor apartment. He fumbled with the keys, but opened the door and stepped back to allow her to enter first. She laid the packages down on the couch and stopped short, watching him move toward the computer.

“Excuse me, Jason. Did I not say ‘go straight to the bedroom?’” He stopped and looked at her stern expression. She was serious. He knew she hated it when he acted like a brat.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“OK, then. Do it.”

He walked into their bedroom, leaving the door open. He heard her open a kitchen drawer, probably getting their special large wooden spoon she used to spank him. He heard her footsteps go to the closet where they kept the paddle, and then heard her go into the bathroom closet. That meant the bath brush. He groaned involuntarily. She had not told him to take off any of his clothes, so he sat on the side of the bed in his khaki pants and white golf shirt. In a moment, she came into the bedroom, carrying the wooden spoon, paddle and bath brush. She was still wearing what she wore shopping, jeans and a white T-shirt. Normally, there was a lot of scolding and slow build-up to his spankings. But she wasn’t in the mood for that this afternoon, plus she was hungry. She hurriedly dumped the implements on their king-sized bed and climbed on the bed, on her knees.

“Come here. Get on your knees,” she said, gesturing to him as she spoke. “Take your shoes off. How many times have I told you not to touch the furniture with your shoes?”

He complied, kicking off his loafers and climbing into position. He knelt over a pillow, pushing his ass up and putting his face in the pillow. He felt his thin khakis stretch tight over his bottom.

“I’ll give you a little warm-up, but this is a punishment spanking, and it will hurt,” she said, spanking him lightly with her hand. “I want you to think about what a brat you’ve been. After I warm you up, you’re getting 50 with the paddle. Then we’ll go eat, and I expect you to behave much better.”

He knew better than to argue.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillowcase.

She rubbed his bottom and began to spank him harder with her hand. She swung her hand upward, catching him right on the “sweet spot,” where his bottom met his thigh. After about a minute of that, the room silent but for the smack of her hand hitting his pants, she picked up the wooden spoon. He felt its hardness against his bottom, and pushed his bottom up higher to meet the smacks. She swung the wooden spoon hard, bringing it down with swift strokes on his ass. She spanked all over, both cheeks, high and low, not pausing, spanking him rapidly. Even through his pants and underwear, the blows felt like little firecrackers exploding against his skin. “Get up,” she said finally. Jason rose from his kneeling position and stood at the side of the bed, looking at her.

“Take your pants and shirt off,” she told him. “And get back up here.”

She watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. Then he pulled his shirt over his head and stood before her in just his briefs. He climbed obediently back in front of her and got back on his knees. She rubbed his bottom through his underwear, running her hand between his legs to feel his throbbing erection. She smiled to herself, and began spanking him again firmly with her hand. After a moment, she picked up the bath brush.

SMACK.

The first blow from the bath brush caught Jason off guard, since he had not seen it coming. He moaned a little and raised his ass higher, thrusting against the pillow. He was aroused and breathing heavily. She spanked him hard with the brush, reddening the skin at the edge of his underwear. Once she lifted the waistband of his briefs to see how red his skin was. He felt the stinging sensation and the hot achy feeling in his bottom. After about five minutes of hard spanking with the bath brush, he felt the bed shift as she reached for the paddle. She laid the paddle down in front of him, so he could see it, and put both hands on the elastic waistband of his underwear.

“Time for these to come off, Jason,” she said, pulling the briefs down as she spoke. He lifted his hips to help her, and watched over his shoulder as she tossed them on top of his other clothes.

“OK, young man. You’re going to get 50 hard ones with the paddle. I want your ass in the air. Are you ready?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, his voice trembling a bit. She rubbed his bare bottom, looking at the faint bruises from his spanking earlier in the week. She picked up the paddle and held it against his ass.

“I want to hear you count,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” She raised her arm and brought the paddle down with all her strength, catching him cleanly on the left side of his ass.

“OW. One,” he said.

SMACK, on the right side.

“Two,” he moaned.

She alternated sides, spanking him fast and as hard as she could. The achy throb spread across his ass. He felt the hot stinging all over, made worse with each smack. He continued to count, but began squirming after 25. At 35, he fell off his knees and rolled onto his side.

“Get UP,” she said, punctuating her words with a smack from the paddle. “On-your-knees,” she said, padding him once per word.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as small tears started in his eyes. He was panting from the pain.

“These last 15 you’re really going to feel,” she said firmly. “Count them. “. He felt the bed shift as she raised the paddle. She brought it down as hard as she could.

“Ohhhhh.” he moaned. “Thirty-six.”

He endured all 50. His ass felt like it was on fire, and it ached terribly. At the end, he fell onto his stomach. She stood up.

“Get up. We’re going to eat.” He rolled over and gingerly sat up. His erection was rock-hard, and she saw him reach for his clothes.

“No underwear, Jason.”

“What?” he asked her.

“You heard me. Don’t put on your underwear. Just put on your pants and shirt. I want you to feel this spanking all through dinner.”

He did as she said, and she was right. His ass burned through his pants as he sat in the car, and he winced again as they sat down at the Olive Garden restaurant. She watched him squirm and smiled. He was still shifting and fidgeting when the waitress walked up. She was very cute, with close-cropped brown hair, wide full lips, and brown eyes. She looked at the two of them and smiled at Jen.

“How are we this evening?” she asked.

“Just fine,” Jen said, smiling back at the waitress, whose nametag read Sarah. Jen looked first at Sarah, then across the table at Jason.

“Jason, tell Sarah why you’re squirming.”

Jason stopped dead still and stared at Jen.

“What?” he said in disbelief.

“Go ahead. Tell her why you can’t sit still,” Jen said.

Sarah stood still by the table, looking at the two of them. Jason hesitated, looked at Jen pleadingly.

“TELL her.” Jen’s tone was firm this time. Jason’s face turned bright red. He was embarrassed and stared at the table in front of him.

“I just got a spanking,” he said quietly.

“Oooh, I’m sorry,” said Sarah, still smiling. She turned to Jen and gave a conspiratorial wink. “But sometimes, that’s what husbands need.”

Jen ordered for both of them while Jason played with his napkin. After Sarah walked away, he looked up at her. The combination of the spanking and the humiliation of telling the waitress about it had turned him on more than he thought possible. He looked at Jen with abject longing in his eyes. She would say later that he looked happier than she had ever seen him. They ate dinner slowly, the lust building between them. When they returned home, they all but tore each other’s clothes off. Running to the bedroom, Jen grabbed a strap-on dildo from the bedroom closet and fastened it snugly around her waist. Bending Jason over the bed, she fucked his ass long and hard, rocking her hips and thrusting. Afterward, she climbed on top of his erection and rode it to orgasm, feeling him explode inside of her.

©JRH 1995-2011

I told her in the car what she was in for, so she knew to go straight to the guest bedroom where we always did our spanking sex-play. I smiled to myself as I put up the car keys, washed my hands, slowly changed into a T-shirt, and other things designed just to make her wait anxiously in the bedroom. I walked in carrying her flat-backed wooden hairbrush that she loved to be spanked with, but her eyes locked in on my waist when I opened the door, to see that I was still wearing my leather belt. I was. She was sitting with her legs together on the edge of the guest bed. She looked up at me with her nervous role-play look as I approached her. I sat down beside her, fully in “character” at this point.

“Are you ready for your spanking?” I asked her firmly. She nodded, with her little-girl mannerism, a grin lurking somewhere in her face. “OK, then, stand up and fix the pillows. I will start spanking you over your pants.”

I watched as she arranged everything, admiring the way her breasts moved as she worked, and lusting over the curves of her bottom. I smiled when she finished and bent over the stack of pillows, her bottom tantalizingly elevated. I turned, still sitting, and began rubbing her bottom. I know what kind of warm-up I’ll need in order to spank her hard with the belt later. I began -spanking her with my hand, gently.

“Have you been naughty?” I murmured. She softly said “yes” in reply.

My spanks gradually got harder, as I alternated rhythm and sides of her bottom. She began twisting just a bit, part of our almost-telepathic way of telling each other we were enjoying the scene. I always did the same type of thing when she had my bottom bared. Finally, after a long period of spanking, I told her to stand up. She did so, her face a bit red and her hair mussed.

“I want you to pull your pants off,” I told her, tasting the words. The specificity of the commands was a turn-on for both of us. “I’m going to spank you over your panties.” She slid her pants down seductively, her eyes locked on mine. She stepped out of them, and resumed her position over the pillows. I grew even harder with arousal as my hand slid over the surface of her panties…they were so soft. I drew my hand back and smacked her bottom, with surprising force. She moaned a bit in reply. I resumed her spanking, alternating cheeks and gradually increasing the force. She moaned and turned this way and that, her voice muffled by the quilted bed. I watched the skin just below the edge of her panties get rosy red, and once I lifted the edge of her panties to feel her bottom. She raised her bottom up to meet me, wanting me, I could sense, to touch her warm, wet vagina. I resisted the urge. That would come later, no pun intended. At some point, I stopped again.

“Stand up,” I said. She complied. “I want you to take your shirt and bra off,” I told her. “I want to see you wearing just your panties.”

She took her clothes off, allowing me a look at her beautiful body. I strained and shifted my pants in arousal. I wanted her so badly; I loved our sex play.

“Now, I want you to tell me how naughty girls get spanked,” I said to her firmly. She looked down, feigning embarrassment. “Tell me.”

“On the bare bottom,” she whispered.

“That’s right. So I want you to take your panties off, also.”

She slid her panties down, and I drew my breath in, excited as always at the sight of her naked.

“Now, get back in position,” I said to her.

She got back over the pillows, and I began spanking her bottom firmly with my hand. As her redness increased, I picked up the hairbrush and gave her a few good smacks. As always when we played, time seemed to stand still; I could have spanked her for 20 minutes or two hours. Finally, I stopped. It was time for what we both knew was coming. I leaned down over the bed to whisper in her ear.

“Jen, what do very naughty girls get spanked with?” I asked her. She said nothing at first, just looking at me with a smile. “Tell me.” I said in her ear.

Her arousal made her breathless as she whispered the words.

“With the belt.”

I began to stand up.

“I want you to watch me, Jen. Watch me take my belt off so you’ll know what happens to naughty girls.” She turned her head, still in position on the bed, as she watched me slide my belt from around my waist. Her face was flushed with arousal, and a little anxiety. She knew the belt would mean a stinging bottom hours later. I took the belt off completely, and doubled it as she watched. She turned her head as I stood in position to begin spanking her. She never liked to see the first one coming; in fact, I usually teased her with it before I spanked her. I rubbed the leather across her bare bottom. I drew the belt back and gave her a good lash right across the middle, the leather popping as I did so. She moaned, and began squirming.

“Stay still, or it will be worse,” I told her.

I lashed her again, at a spot just below the first one. And again, as she began moaning much louder. Her bottom began turning a deeper shade of red. After a while, I gave her a break.

“Ten more,” I said.

“NO!” she moaned, all part of the game.

“Ten more super-hard ones, then you’re done,” I told her. She moaned something I couldn’t understand, but I knew this was what she wanted. “And you need to count these off for me,” I told her.

“Yes, sir.”

The first one was the hardest yet. She cried out a little, but obediently said, “One.”

I gave her a break at five. It was all I could do not to take her. I was dizzy with arousal.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

I winced at how red her bottom was getting; she would feel this spanking tomorrow, no doubt. When it was all over, there was dead silence in the room for a few seconds. I lay down beside her and stroked her hair; she was panting. My hand slid down between her legs; her hand beat me there. We both rubbed, her hand guiding mine, and within a minute, she was in the throes of a tremendous orgasm. My penis throbbed, still bound within my jeans.

We both walked into the bathroom afterward, and I watched as she surveyed herself in the mirror.

“You really gave me a good one,” she said.

“Yep,” I said, smiling.

Her tone turned firm. “Now, I want you naked and on your knees on the bed, young man. You are SO going to get it.”

I practically ran to the bed, tearing my clothes off. I couldn’t wait.

©JRH 1995-2011

As he paid the cab driver, he looked over his shoulder to see her face smiling out at him from the front window. They reached each other just as he entered the front door, and enveloped each other in a hug of loving welcome. His business trips were routine, but this time he had been away a whole week, and they had missed each other exceedingly. They kissed passionately and deeply, with a sensuous heat that had permeated their relationship since they first met and had only intensified with three years of marriage. As the kiss ended, he whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry.” It was their code phrase, signifying a desire to play out a spanking scene. She leaned away and fixed him with a stern gaze, her eyebrow playfully arching.

“Sorry for what?”

“I wasn’t as chaste on my trip as I promised you,” he said with downcast eyes. “I fantasized about you several times, even pictured you naked, and even…well, once I just had to…masturbate.” He swallowed, awaited her reaction.

“We have agreements about this sort of thing, don’t we?” she asked him in a parental tone. When he nodded, she continued, “Well, we shall have to teach you a lesson, I suppose. Go into our bedroom and take off everything except your underwear.”

His heart started pounding as he walked toward the rear of the house. This aspect of their sexual lives had begun over a year ago, and it provided immense pleasure for the both of them. Playing out a spanking scene, whether on the giving or receiving end, never failed to excite him, even more so now, given the long period of time since their last episode. He entered the bedroom and began removing his clothes. As he did, his gaze fell with excitement on the smooth, wooden oval paddle that she had placed in the center of their bed. She had given it to him on his last birthday, making use of it that night with a thorough birthday spanking. He smiled to himself as he realized that she had anticipated him asking for a spanking upon returning from his trip. Their ability to anticipate the needs of the other was one of the things that made their relationship work so well. He removed all of his clothes except underwear, as per her instructions, and sat on the end of the bed, anticipating.

She entered the room dressed in a beautiful white teddy that left little to the imagination. As his gaze swept her from head to toe, he became aroused immediately, producing a tell-tale bulge in his boxers. She smiled at that, as always taking pride in her ability to arouse him. She eyed him playfully, began to tease him, “So, you decided to be naughty while you were away? Couldn’t wait just a few days? Not even with me as your reward?” with this she propped her leg on the bed, tantalizing him. “Well, I’ll bet you will regret that indiscretion very soon. Stand up, and turn around.” He complied silently. She sat on the end of the bed where he had been sitting, and ordered him to bend over her lap. “I’m going to get you warmed up first, with just a few smacks with my hand.” She rubbed his bottom through the thin cotton cloth of his boxers, then paused to run her hand down his bottom and between his legs. She giggled when she heard him moan. The first few smacks were light, as she established a pace, but they became progressively harder, until he squirmed almost imperceptibly on her lap. After several dozen blows, she stopped. “Stand up.” He rose, trembling with anticipation at what he knew was coming.

“Now for the more severe part of your punishment,” she said. “You know you deserve it, don’t you? You know you’ve been a naughty little boy.” He nodded, his eyes downcast. “Very well. I want you to hand me your paddle and then pull down your underwear.” He retrieved the paddle and then slid his boxers down, feeling the heat from his reddened bottom as he did so.

“Back over my lap.” She helped him get positioned, then took a practice swing to test her balance. “Forty of these, and then your punishment will be over,” she said. He nodded at the floor, and closed his eyes. The first smack made his bottom bounce, and the sting made him rise onto his toes. She proceeded to forty, each blow coming harder than the one before. At forty, the paddle was still. She pulled him to her and simultaneously laid back on the bed. They kissed passionately, and she whispered seductively in his ear, “Welcome home.”

©JRH 1995-2011

“Oh, honey…”

They were words I loved, but in this case, the sweet firmness in them also made me wince.

Every night, Jen and I go through a routine. She and I both know every night that I am to be spanked, but neither of us choose how long or what implement she’ll use.

We leave that up to luck.

Several months ago, she devised a system for choosing how I would receive my nightly spanking. She made up three decks of cards, one called “implements,” another called “position and clothing,” and yet another called “length.”

In the implements stack, she listed all our favorites, the wooden spoon, the paddle, a hairbrush, the crop, the cane, her hand, a strap, and an ominous card marked “any or all,” her choice.

“Position and clothing,” fairly self-explanatory, dictates what I am to wear and whether I’m to simply bend over, be on my knees, or be over our special spanking bench.

“Length,” again fairly simple, is how many licks are forthcoming, or for how long she will spank me. There are cards for numbers of spanks from 10 to 100, lengths of time from 15 minutes to two hours, and a special card that I can only use once a week marked, “not tonight.” That card means I get to skip a night of spanking, which sometimes comes at a welcome time if the spanking from the night before was particularly rough.

But mixed in the “length” deck is an awful card, one I always hoped to avoid drawing, even while secretly craving a hard spanking.

It reads simply “until bruised.”

We knew it was coming — that menacing combination of “any and all,” combined with “on the bare, on your knees” and “until bruised,” but it hadn’t happened yet…at least not until tonight.

“Oh, honey,” she said to me when we looked at what I had drawn. “I’m sorry, but we knew it was possible. “We need to go ahead and get started…a spanking that will bruise might take a while.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered meekly. Jen and I had been into spanking since we married more than a year ago, but it was only in recent months that I began to get into the harder stuff — the paddles, the long spankings, leaving marks, even bruises. I loved the anticipation, and I loved the control she exerted over me in this practice, but this particular combination made me nervous.

I had never taken a spanking like she was about to administer, and we both knew it.

“Go into the bedroom, get ready, and I’ll be there shortly,” Jen said with a sweet smile. She patted my bottom as I walked away, my stomach in knots. I waited in the bedroom for what seemed like forever — completely nude, on my knees with my ass in the air.

She walked in wearing my favorite — nothing but a white T-shirt. Her off-the-charts, curvaceous body excited me to the point of trembling. I was rock-hard, my erection throbbing beneath me as I remained on my knees. Her fragrance came with her, an intoxicating smell of body spray and her special soap.

She climbed on the bed alongside me and showed me the implements she had chosen — a long wooden spoon and one of our longer paddles, a sorority type with holes in it. I knew a few good spanks from that and the bruising might arrive sooner than we expected. “I know you’ll be good, but remember, if you don’t hold still, I’ll tie you down,” she said in that same sultry, firm voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, my mouth dry and voice shaking. “I’m going to warm you up for a bit before we start the hard stuff,” she said. “But it’s coming, and it will hurt, I guarantee.”

I felt her warm hand caress my bottom. My stomach had a meadow full of butterflies, and my erection continued throbbing, dripping with arousal. The first spank sounded very loud in the silent bedroom. The sting of the first slap always electrified my body, and I strained my bottom even higher to meet her spanks.

“Harder,” I said, involuntarily. My boldness surprised even me.

“Harder?” she said with a laugh. “Aren’t we fresh tonight! Don’t worry, young man; it’s about to get harder.”

She spanked me faster with her hand, slapping my bottom with her palm, bringing the warm redness to the surface. My breathing became faster as the warm, stinging sensation permeated my body.

After a bit, she paused and picked up the wooden spoon. One of my favorite implements, the spoon felt like firecracker pops against my skin, each blow striking its own unique spot.

The room was silent but for the staccato snaps of the spoon hitting my ass.

Who knows how much time passed? I was in another world of arousal when Jen finally picked up the paddle. “I think 20 or so with this should get that bruising done nicely,” she said.

“Twenty?” I said. “NO!”

“You don’t have a choice, young man,” Jen said sharply. “The cards said bruise you, and that’s what we’re going to do. Now, if you don’t quit squirming, I’m going to tie you down. Be still and stay on your knees. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said softly, tears creeping into my voice.

I felt the heavy paddle against my ass as she aimed for the first lick. I tightened up in anticipation. I felt the bed sway as she swung the paddle. It landed with a ferocious smack.

“OH!” I moaned.

The second one came before I knew it…the stinging was immense.

Over and over, she paddled the same spot, each lick more painful than the one before. The oft-spanked spot was aching, hot, and stinging.

She paused at 15.

“You’re pretty close, honey,” she said sweetly. “I think these last five, if they’re super-hard, will leave some nice bruises. I think you need to count these off for me out loud, OK? And remember to stay still and stay on your knees.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I sobbed…the tears had started just after the paddling.

SMACK.

“One,” I said softly, my head buried in the bed, my ass still painfully exposed.

SMACK.

“Two,” I moaned. I ached like never before.

SMACK.

“Threeeeeee,” I groaned.

Four, and finally, at long last, five.

I collapsed onto my stomach, my erection pressing into me from beneath.

She bent her head close to my ear.

“You did so good, honey!” she said. “You stayed on your knees like a good boy. Now, I think you deserve a reward. Roll over.”

I rolled over, my ass burning as it made contact with the bed. She reached between my legs and felt my dripping erection. She stroked it, up and down, gently, and I exploded within seconds. My orgasm made me shake all over, and I came for what seemed like hours.

She was smiling when I opened my eyes.

“Oh, honey,” she said again. “I love you.”

I smiled back, my eyes full of love. “I love you, too,” I said.

©JRH 1995-2011

My sweet-but-strict wife, Mistress Jennifer, had not allowed me to orgasm in five days. On the fifth day, she called me at work and told me to be prepared for the night ahead, because I was in for a “learning experience.”

I pondered that with a mixture of excitement and dread. Every time she used that phrase, I usually ended up with a bruised bottom, but I had to admit I always enjoyed it.

When I arrived home from work that afternoon, the lights were off downstairs and there was a note on the door that instructed me to go up to our bedroom and take off all my clothes except my underwear. I walked upstairs quietly, listening for sounds to figure out where Jen was. I heard nothing. I walked into our bedroom and found a variety of toys laid out: Two paddles, a flogger, some nipple clamps and a rather large anal plug. There were several candles burning all around the room. The only light spilled from under the shade of our bedside lamp. There were padded restraints attached to all four corner bedposts.

Finally, I heard water running in our bathroom, and I assumed Jen was showering. I smiled, looking around at the scene she had set up for me.

I did as I was instructed and took off everything I had on except my white briefs. The note had not specified what I needed to do, so I sat on the edge of the bed and waited on Jen.

Momentarily, she emerged from the bathroom. She had on a white teddy, and nothing else. Her hair spilled down over her neck, almost to her shoulders. She smiled a seductive smile at me and kissed me.

“Welcome home,” she said.

“Thank you.” I smiled at her and shivered a bit as I admired her body and the sexy outfit she had chosen. My cock stirred, bouncing to life, ready at a moment’s notice after five days of denial.

“So what’s my learning experience?” I asked.

“Well, Honey, tonight I’m going to help you associate pain with pleasure,” she said. “I’ve been reading about it in a great sexual domination book I found last week in the bookstore.”

I looked at her with a quizzical look.

“Jason, you know when I spank or paddle you really hard, sometimes you lose your erection or arousal, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, I know you enjoy your spankings, even when it’s hard, but I want you to really associate spanking with sexual release. Enough explanation, Honey. Let’s just get started. I want you on your back, right now, and spread your legs and arms out so I can tie you.”

I did as she asked, my erection bulging in my underwear as her breasts swung against me while she fastened my arms and legs to the bed. She finished and lay beside me, her mouth near my neck. She began to rub my erection through my briefs and whisper into my ear.

“You haven’t come in a while, have you Baby?”

I moaned no in response.

“You want to, don’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said in a breathy voice.

“It feels good when I rub your cock, doesn’t it? It makes you want to come. I’ll bet you could come right now, couldn’t you?”

I nodded, turning my head toward her.

She quickly pulled her hand away from my cock and slapped my face, hard.

“Well, you’re not going to, for a while, anyway,” she said firmly.

My face flushed and my cock throbbed. She put her hand back on my cock and just left it there, without rubbing, feeling it throbbing beneath her hand. With her other hand, she grabbed my right nipple and twisted it, hard, making it erect. In one smooth motion, she grabbed a nipple clip and fastened it to my erect nipple.

It HURT. I moaned and writhed as far as my restraints allowed me to. The pinch began to really sting on my nipple. It hurt so badly that my cock began to get soft, as all I could think of was the biting sting on my nipple.

She watched all this, calculating. She felt my cock grow soft under her hand. When she was satisfied my erection was gone, she took the clip off and kissed my nipple. She began to rub again, stroking me.

As the pain subsided, the warm feelings came back as I enjoyed her mouth on my nipple and her hand on my cock. I began to harden again, my cock bouncing as it did so.

She stroked me harder this time, feeling the shape of my cock and whispering dirty things into my ear, things she knew turned me on. She whispered to me to tell her when I was close to coming.

“Don’t you dare come, Jason,” she warned. “Tell me before you lose control.”

Finally, I moaned to her that I was close, almost there.

Sure enough, she repeated the nipple torture on the left nipple, the twist and the clamp doing the same thing to my arousal as before.

She revived me again, taking the clamp off and rubbing me back to life.

It was sweet, submissive torture.

After I regained my erection after the left nipple got its treatment, she pulled my underwear down as far as the restraints would go. She straddled me, took my cock in her hand and rubbed it on her wet pussy. Again, she told me to tell her when I got close.

“It’ll be worse, Jason, if you lose control and come,” she said. “I won’t let you come for two weeks. You better tell me when you’re close.”

I moaned, wanting to tell her, to obey, but dying to let it go and get the sweet release my aching cock and balls were begging for.

I chose to obey, and told her I was close.

This time, she got off me, unfastened the restraints and told me to get on my knees.

She pulled my underwear off and began to smack my ass hard with her hand. As usual, this just turned me on more, and she reached underneath me to see if I was still hard. I was.

She grabbed our oval, oak paddle and placed it against my ass. I felt it leave, and with a loud crack, I felt it strike me. I collapsed on the bed, off my knees, the sting more than I expected.

“OW!”

“Get back on your knees, NOW,” she said. I quickly complied.

She put the paddle back against my ass, rubbing it from side to side. Again, with almost all her force, she paddled me. The crack reverberated through the room and it hurt so sharply I cried out again.

Rapidly, barely pausing between smacks, she gave me 10 more. My bottom ached and I felt the heat spread over my skin.

She reached underneath me, and my cock was still semi-erect. She swapped the oval paddle for a larger, heavier, sorority type.

“Ok, a few more. Back on your knees, please.”

I did as I was told, elevating my ass, submitting it to the paddle.

From previous experience, I knew when I felt the next smack it was as hard as she could deliver. I moaned, very loudly, and felt tears sting the corners of my eyes. Four more just like that one followed. All I could think of was the burning and aching in my ass.

She reached underneath me again, and felt me flaccid.

“Turn over, Jason. On your back.”

I did as I was told, the cool sheets feeling good against my burning skin.

This time, she took my soft penis in her mouth and caressed it. I sprang to life, my cock getting hard in seconds, as the sudden shift from pain to pleasure made me dizzy.

She bobbed on my cock, in smooth, fast strokes, then abruptly stopped.

“Tell me, Jason, when you’re close. Don’t you DARE come.”

She resumed her mouth action, but I quickly stopped her.

“I’m about to come, Mistress. I can’t help it. I’m so very close.”

She stopped.

“Back on your knees, Jason.”

I groaned as I flipped over and presented my ass again.

It was the same process again…hard smacks, a quick feel of my dripping, throbbing, semi-erection, then more hard smacks, then some killer-hard smacks to finish the deal.

Finally, mercifully, she told me to roll over. I had tears in my eyes as I did so.

My balls ached. They were heavy and achy and sore. Even rubbing them hurt a little, but sure enough, she stroked me back to a rock-hard erection.

She stopped again, and paddled me again, my ass cherry-red and really burning.

Then the same process…I rolled back over and she kissed me all over, touching me and arousing me.

The next time I told her I was close, she told me to bend over some pillows. I heard her grab the lube and rub it all over the plug. I groaned when I felt its tip against my anus, and I moaned as she quickly inserted it.

The pressure was intense, and I gasped for breath as she fucked me with it, pushing it in and out. She felt my cock as she did so, feeling it eventually get soft from the intense pressure, the pain from the fullness of the plug in my ass.

Again, she stopped, and stroked me back to the brink of orgasm.

I lost track of the cycle. Once, she straddled my hips and put my cock in her pussy. It took all my control not to come. After that came the flogger, as she used it to created stinging explosions on my bottom.

Finally, after an hour or two, she told me my learning experience was over and told me if I begged enough, she would give me release.

I wasted no time, begging her earnestly to please let me finish and come.

She leaned back against the pillows.

“Ok, if you want to do it, do it. I’m just going to watch. I want to watch you stroke your own cock for me and come on yourself.”

I did as I was told, furiously stroking before she could change her mind.

Mere seconds later, I erupted, come shooting on my stomach and chest. The release after the five days of denial and two hours of torture was immense.

She just watched me and smiled. I knew enough to savor this orgasm, because there wasn’t any telling when she would allow me to have another one.

©JRH 1995-2011

Rachel met him at the door wearing only a matching bra and panties set and a smile.

“Let’s play a game,” she said.

“Mmmmmm…let’s!” I said, grabbing her into a hug and deep kiss. Her games were always fun, and judging by her appearance, this one involved sex.

“So what’s the game?” I asked after we kissed.

She led me into the bedroom, where I saw on the bed the small, round oak paddle she bought me for my last birthday. She also gave me a birthday spanking that night, incidentally.

I smiled as I looked around the room, lit with candles.

“Well, you’re going to get spanked,” she said, smiling. “But YOU get to decide how many.”

“OK,” I said. “So what’s the game?”

Rachel sat on the edge of the bed and put one foot on the edge of the bed, provocatively.

“See my pussy, Baby?” she purred. I swallowed hard and nodded, feeling my cock grow erect in my pants.

“You can have as much as you want, but you’ll get spanked for it,” she said. Still smiling, she ran her hand over her pussy, running her finger under her panties.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“Here’s the deal,” she said, more firmly. “If you want to JUST see me naked tonight, you’ll have to take three spanks with the paddle, over your clothes. If you want to suck my nipples, you’ll take three more over your underwear. You can lick my pussy if you take three more on your bare ass.”

She paused and smiled.

“And?” I said.

“Two more choices,” she said. “If you want to do all the above AND fuck my pussy ‘till you come, you’ll have to take five on your bare ass, and for the final deal, if you take 10 extras, you can come either in my ass or my mouth.”

My cock was rock-hard and straining through my pants. I hesitated, thinking of the paddle next to the sheer bliss of fucking her in her tight ass. Rachel was new to spanking, but she could still make it sting.

“I’ll take all of them,” I said softly.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes…ma’am.” I added the last word for effect, to make our game more fun. She smiled.

“OK, come over here to the bed,” she said, patting the bed beside her.

I came toward the bed, and she stood up beside me.

“Put your hands on the bed and bend over,” she said. “We’ll start with the three over your clothes.”

I complied, and felt the smooth paddle over my pants. She swung it about half-strength and it popped my bottom.

“One,” she said.

Two and three came quickly, and she told me to stand up.

“Take everything off but your underwear, and let me watch,” she said with a smile. I began to strip for her, pulling off my golf shirt and t-shirt first, then taking off my pants, slowly. She had her eyes on my cock as it poked through my briefs.

“Now, for your reward,” she said, unfastening her bra and sliding out of her panties. My breathing grew fast as I looked at her naked body.

“Get back in position,” she said. I bent at the waist, putting my hands on the bed and elevating my ass.

She put the paddle against my underwear and rubbed it back and forth a bit. This time, I felt it a bit more on the first smack.

“One,” she said. “These will let you suck my nipples.”

I moaned, softly. She knew how much all this turned me on. She spanked me again, twice, quickly. My bottom stung, just a little.

“Stand up,” she said. “And get completely naked for me.”

I stood in front of her and took off my underwear. As I stood in front of her, totally naked, she pulled me to her and forced my mouth to her left nipple. I took it gently in my mouth and kissed it, sucking softly. She moaned and closed her eyes as I sucked harder, using my tongue to stimulate her. I shifted to the right nipple and gave it the same treatment. Reluctantly, she pushed me away.

“That’s enough for now,” she said. “You have more spanking coming. Get on your knees.”

I knelt on the bed and put my face into the cover, elevating my ass. It was one of my favorite positions, and the one we always used when Rachel used her vibrator in my ass.

She knelt beside me and put the paddle on my naked ass.

“These will let you lick my pussy,” she said playfully. She rubbed the paddle back and forth, and swung it harder this time. SMACK.

“One,” she said. I moaned.

SMACK.

“Two.” My cock was dripping pre-come.

SMACK.

“Three,” she said, falling backward on the bed and pulling me to her warm, wet pussy. “Now lick!”

I dove into her pussy immediately, licking it like an ice cream cone and then sticking my tongue deep inside her. I began to fuck her pussy with my tongue, and she pushed my head from behind, pushing my face deeper into her pussy. She moaned and I could feel her juices running down my chin.

I licked her for about three minutes, and I knew from her moans she was getting ready to come. She squeezed her thighs around my face and rocked her hips, rubbing her clit on my face. She literally screamed as she orgasmed.

I had to catch my breath after she came. I laid back on the bed, my cock bobbing with arousal.

Rachel recovered enough to pick the paddle back up.

“Ready for 10 more?” she asked. I could only nod, too turned on to speak.

“Get over her then,” she said.

I got back into position, and she gave me 10 really, really hard spanks with the paddle, turning my bottom pink. In between, she played with my balls and teased my asshole with her finger. I was twisting and moaning by the time she was through.

She laid back on the bed and opened her legs.

“Fuck me, Jason. Right now,” she said. I got on top of her and began fucking her like an animal, rocking my hips as I pounded and thrust my cock deep inside her dripping pussy. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, moaning with me as we fucked.

“Fuck my ass, Jason. Fuck me from behind and come in my ass.”

She rolled over and got on her knees, and I got into position. I eased my slick cock into her ass and she put her head into the pillow and moaned loudly as I did so.

“Oh god, oh fuck Jason, fuck me…fuck my ass,” she said.

I rocked my hips and began fucking her ass in slow strokes. I knew I wasn’t going to last long. Less than a minute went by, and I grabbed her hips and pulled her toward me.

“OH MY GOD, RACHE, I’M COMING,” I all but screamed. I pounded her ass one last time and exploded with a loud moan, coming deep inside her ass.

We collapsed on top of each other, her head on my chest.

Soon, she was licking my nipple, and I could feel my cock stirring again. I knew then we were in for a long, fun night.

©JRH 1995-2011

I was as excited as a three-year-old on Christmas morning.

After a few days of talking about it, Jen and I were going to buy a new paddle.
We were both students at The University of Alabama at the time, enjoying the whirlwind of college, living together in a small apartment on bread, water and noodles. We were passionately in love with the other’s mind and body. We laughed a lot, we debated issues constantly, and we played as hard as we worked.

And we both loved to be spanked. Always had. It drew us together in the beginning, but that’s another story.

While shopping for books one semester, I wandered into an off-campus bookstore to seek out a chemistry text that was sold out elsewhere.
While waiting in line, my eyes wandered over to a section of the store where sorority and fraternity items were sold. Hanging on a rotating metal rack were paddles of all sizes.

I left the checkout line and walked almost robotically to the rack. I was drawn to it like one of the million bugs that circle the lights of Bryant-Denny Stadium during night games in September.

I touched several of the paddles, and, embarrassed, tried to keep them from making too much noise when banging into each other as they swung after I inspected them.

My thoughts made me blush, but I knew we had to buy one of those paddles.
Jen usually just spanked me with her hand, but once in a while if I needed more she would use a wooden spoon from our meager kitchen. I would tease her while she made her famous pasta shells, and she would smack my ass with her wooden spoon. I loved it.

But lately, I needed more – more intensity, more force, more pain — and we didn’t have any suitable implements.

But after this shopping trip, that would change.

She and I entered the store on a Tuesday afternoon. There wasn’t much sound; some commotion in the back, but only one clerk was in the front of the store. A bell rang from the door as we entered.

We headed straight for the paddles. She smiled as she noticed how fidgety and over-stimulated I became.

“You like this,” she whispered seductively, smiling. I gulped and took a deep breath. “Yeah,” I answered. It was all I could get out.

She picked up several of the paddles off the rack and felt them, smacked them against her palm to get a feel for the heft.

I noticed the clerk looking at us out of the corner of her eye. I’m sure we didn’t look like the frat type.

Once, when we thought the clerk was looking away, Jen placed her hand on my shoulder and bent me over slightly. She placed a thin, long paddle against my khaki shorts, over my ass, and rubbed it across my bottom.
“You like this one?” she whispered.

I looked around furtively. “Yes. What do you think?”

As I straightened up, I saw that the clerk was walking toward us. Jen and I looked at each other, a little flustered. I could tell we were thinking the same things: Do we leave, act normal, say we’re just looking, or what?

The clerk smiled as she approached. She walked up to Jen and, with a twinkle in her eye, slid her arm around Jen’s waist.

Softly, looking at both of us, she said, “I’m Sarah. I just wanted to let you know, you can go in the back and try that out if you’d like.”

“What?” Jen and I spoke simultaneously.

“I couldn’t help noticing,” the girl said, brushing her blonde hair over her ear. ”You think y’all are the only two people who like spanking? We get people like us in here all the time.”

“Us?” Jen asked meaningfully, regaining her composure and smiling.

“Yeah, us,” she said. “I like it myself, but mostly giving more than receiving.

Looks like your friend here wants to be on the receiving end.”

I blushed and looked down, confirming her words. Jen looked at the clerk and nodded.

“Well, if you want to try it out, we have a spanking bench just through that door. In fact, I think there are a couple of Zetas in there now. The sororities often use our, uh, facility on the pledges. I’m not into the whole Greek thing, but I have to say I like that part.”

Jen smiled again, wider this time, and looked at me first, then the clerk.

“Lead on.”

We all three walked toward the back, the clerk first, then Jen. I followed meekly behind, nervous, excited, scared and embarrassed all at once.

Sarah held a heavy curtain back as we walked into a storage area, then turned the knob on a heavier, metal door and held it open for us. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw a young girl, who had to be a freshman or sophomore, bent over a padded sawhorse-type thing that stretched the length of the room, with her brown hair dangling toward the floor. Beside her stood an older, blonde girl with a Zeta Tau Alpha shirt on. She was spanking her pledge rhythmically with a paddle. The brunette seemed to be taking it well, but I thought she wasn’t being spanked very hard. She was fully clothed, and the paddle made a dull sound as it hit her bottom.

The two girls looked up at us and the older one smiled, and then went right back to the paddling. They never missed a spank. Nothing was said as the clerk led us to a vacant portion of the spanking bench.

“Mind if I watch?” Sarah asked, pulling a chair up from the wall.

“Not at all,” Jen said. “And I know Jason won’t mind.” I just blushed and looked nervously at the bench.

“Bend over it,” Jen said, pointing to the bench, the authoritative tone I loved creeping into her voice. “Now.”

I bent over the bench, keeping my legs straight, my shorts pulling tight over my ass. I felt Jen put the paddle over my ass and rub it back and forth, getting a feel for the aim.

I turned my head to side-to-side, but I couldn’t see anything but the back walls of the store. Over my left shoulder, I could hear the sounds of the other girl being paddled. I could feel my erection growing in my shorts, pressing against the bench.

SMACK. Jen brought the paddle down against my ass, not as hard as I had anticipated, but certainly enough to sting.

SMACK. She swung harder this time, judging the force as she adjusted her backswing.

SMACK. Still harder. I felt the hot achy feeling spread over my bottom. I was in submissive bliss.

Jen paddled me for a few minutes, not tremendously hard, but regularly and hard enough to sting. I squirmed a bit, and she stopped to rub my bottom.

“Stand up, Honey,” she said. I exhaled, thinking that we must be finished.

I stood up and faced Jen and the clerk, my face red. The other girls, I noticed, had stopped their paddling and were sitting in chairs against the wall. The older girl was obviously scolding the pledge, but quietly.

I looked a question at Jen and shifted my weight. She just smiled, and looked back at the clerk.

“Pull your shorts down, Jason. I think we need to see what this feels like with fewer clothes on.”

I blushed furiously, and looked incredulously at Jen. I said nothing. She knew I was humiliated, and she knew how much that excited me. I could not bear the thought of pulling my pants down in front of all these hot girls, but at the same time, I couldn’t wait.

I still said nothing, but I unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my shorts, letting them fall to my knees.

“Just take them off, Honey. That would be easier,” Jen said, still smiling.

I looked down, kicked my shorts off, and turned around quickly. I bent back over the bench before she told me to, feeling my briefs pull tight across my ass. My thighs and bottom felt very exposed. I took a deep breath as Jen put the paddle back against my ass.

The smacks this time took my breath away. The stinging was much worse, and the licks sounded loud against the silence in the back room. The other sorority girls had grown silent, watching me being paddled.

“It’s a nice one, isn’t it?” the clerk asked Jen. “It really reddens his ass. Swing it up more, and he’ll really feel it.”

Jen complied. I jumped as the blow fell.

“Wow, you’re right,” Jen said. “Look at that – it left a mark.”

I squirmed in my underwear, my erection pushing against the hard bench.

After a few more minutes, Jen stopped paddling and placed her hand on my lower back. I felt her running her fingers under the waistband of my briefs.

“Let’s take these off,” she said, tugging at them with both hands. “Stand up.”
I stood up, faced the girls, and was bright red in the face as all four girls watched me take down my underwear. My hard cock bounced up as I stood up. It was pulsating with my heartbeat, and a drop of pre-come was oozing from the tip. All the girls but Jen dropped their gaze to my rock-hard erection. Jen kept her gaze locked on me, and kept smiling that aroused smile.

“Let’s try a few on the bare,” she said. “Bend over.”

I bent over the bench yet again, feeling terribly vulnerable and exposed. I could feel the girls staring at my stretched asshole, and my testicles hanging between my legs.

Jen patted my inner thigh. “Spread your legs a bit, Jason.” I complied, but the position I was in grew more awkward.

“Sarah, want to try one?” Jen asked. I couldn’t believe my ears. Jen was actually going to let this girl spank me.

“Sure!” she giggled. She stood by Jen. “I love to paddle naughty boys.”

I felt the air stir as Jen moved back and Sarah got into position.

“How hard can he take?” Sarah asked Jen.

“He’s pretty warmed up,” Jen said thoughtfully. “Give him all you’ve got.” I trembled a bit when I heard that, and clinched my bottom.

“No clinching,” Sarah said, noticing the muscles. “Just relax.”

I took a deep breath and tried to relax my ass. I felt the cool, smooth wood against my skin. Then I felt it leave.

SMACK. I yelped, out loud. It felt like a firecracker had exploded on my skin. That one HURT. “OW!” I yelled.

“That was a good one, Sarah,” Jen said. “He’s been saying he wants it harder, so give him about five more.”

“Sure,” Sarah said lightly. She bent her knees slightly and aimed the paddle again.

SMACK.

“Mmmmph,” I grunted when the blow landed. I squirmed and twisted. My ass was on fire.

Three more times Sarah swung the paddle. It was all I could do to stay still. I grasped the sides of the bench and squeezed hard.

When it was over, the silence seemed loud.

“OK, Jason, you can get up,” Jen said. “Sarah and I are done.”

I stood up and rubbed my aching ass. I felt nothing but heat.

“Put your clothes on,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She looked at Sarah and smiled.

“We’ll take it.”

©JRH 1995-2011

The room is lighted only by an incense candle on the nightstand and the occasional flash of lightning through the window accompanying a deep crash of thunder, compliments of a fierce nighttime summer thunderstorm. Inside the bedroom, there exists a storm of another kind. It is a whirlwind of lust, enveloping the two naked, sweaty young bodies, driven by the jet stream of hormones and the heady attraction that passes for love during the turbulent college experience. The girl is on top of him, moving herself down and up, their bodies dancing together to a primal rhythm that has satisfied sexual drives for eons. He reaches around her body, places a palm on both hips, both to steady her position and influence the rhythm of the thrusts. He squeezes just a bit in a moment of extreme pleasure, his fingertips sliding into the cleft where lies her anus and further down, the source of her heat and wetness. Never breaking the pattern of movement, she whispers fiercely to him, “Spank me.” It is something they have discussed before, read about in erotic literature, but never attempted. He hesitates, wants to know she is sure. He looks into her eyes, sees prurient desire almost pleading for the extra stimulation. “Spank me…please spank me,” she moans into his ear. She is sure.

He rubs her bottom with his palm, all the while thrusting inside of her at a now slowing pace, sometimes deep, sometimes gentle. His right hand moves away from her body and hesitantly swings into the air behind her. He feels her body tense. The sharp crack of his palm on her skin causes something like an electric jolt to course through both of their bodies. It is a delicious dose of stimulation foreign to them, but certainly not unwelcome. They reach a new plateau of excitement, their every nerve ending alive with pleasure, their senses overwhelmed, their heads spinning. She moans into the night air, throatily, “Again!” He arcs his hand another time, the impact possessing more velocity. Her moans correspond. The rate of thrusting increases as now the left hand delivers the blow. She asks for still more, the stings providing her with a sensory input she now craves. After several more, the slaps to her now reddened bottom are forestalled by an all powerful, all consuming orgasm that overcomes both of their bodies and makes further deliberate movement impossible, save that of the instinctual thrusting that will carry them both to that destination they are striving to reach together. It wells up with momentum and power, and they become one, their bodies and souls erupting simultaneously with a sensation no substance on earth can render. It continues for several seconds, to them an eternity. In its wake they collapse onto each other, their bodies touching at every point, inside and out. And outside the window, the storm rages on.

©JRH 1995-2011

I can still remember the first time I brought up the topic of erotic spanking with my girlfriend. It was one of those late night phone conversations that had slipped into the early hours of the morning. We had been together about three months—still really just getting to know each other, in a sense. We were miles apart on separate college campuses, our relationship a product of the on-line cyber-world that has changed the face of human relations. Our copious phone conversations had made us the phone company’s best friend, but money was no object to us—we didn’t even notice when midnight tiptoed by. Our conversation that night had wandered along sexual lines, as both of us dealt with sexual desires that the distance between us cruelly thwarted. Talking about it was the next best thing, we decided, so we let the conversation go where it would. The later the hour, the more introspective and vulnerable we became, our voices growing softer and the love we were feeling for each other becoming more evident. The topic was sexual fantasies, and the spirit of the moment finally overtook me as I shared with her a fantasy that I had occupied my thoughts for months—I wanted to be spanked.
I described my fantasy to her, haltingly at first, but as she encouraged me, more and more details spilled out. She said that she had never done anything like that before, but she was more than willing to make my fantasy come true—her willingness to be sexually inventive was one of the things that attracted me to her in the beginning. She asked a few questions, specifics about what I would like or not like. I could tell she was thinking about it. Finally, after a few more questions, she decided.

“Let’s do it,” she said playfully.

My mouth went dry and my heart began to flutter. I asked softly, “When?”

“I’m not sure,” she said with a yawn. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

We said our good-byes and hung up—and I lay in bed that night dazed, fantasies dancing in my head. She called me the next day and asked me if I was serious about what I had described to her the night before—I assured her that I was. She then proposed a bet. Laughter in her voice, she said to me that we could wager our fantasies on the outcome of the upcoming Super Bowl between Denver and Atlanta. If I won the bet, she would make my spanking fantasy come true, and if she won, we would put my idea on hold and I would have to perform a fantasy for her. She would even let me pick the team I wanted, she said. My arousal growing, I picked Denver, since they were big favorites.

“Now, what are the terms of the bet?” she asked.

“What terms?” I asked back.

“Well, how long will your spanking last if your team wins? And what happens afterward?”

I proposed that she give me as many spanks as the combined scores of the two teams, and that she take charge after the spanking, making me do whatever she wanted for the rest of the night.

“Wow,” she said thoughtfully. “You realize that that could be a big number?” she teased. “I know,” I said.

“And I won’t be gentle,” she said, letting an authoritative tone creep into her voice.

I felt a twinge between my legs. “I hope not,” I replied.
“I might end up pulling for your team before the night is over,” she laughed. “This could be the best losing bet I ever had.”

She arrived at my apartment a few hours before game time. After we unloaded her luggage and got her settled in, we snuggled up on the couch and waited for kickoff. She kissed me, and then smiled and said, “You know, I looked in the sports section and read where the predicted total of points tonight was over fifty. Did you know that?”

I just smiled, my arousal obvious. “Yes.”

“Are you ready for that?” she whispered seductively.

My voice almost trembled as I responded. “Yes.”

As the game wore on, it became obvious that Denver was going to win. Toward the end, I found myself hoping for more touchdowns, more field goals, any way to put more points on the board. When it was over, the total was 54, and I was thrilled.

As soon as the game ended, she smiled at me. “Are you ready?” she asked. After I nodded assent, she sat up straight and gave me instructions. “Go into your bedroom and take all your clothes off except your underwear. I’ll be in shortly.”

My heart was pounding as I entered the bedroom and closed the door behind me. I watched myself in the mirror as I unbuttoned my shirt, took off my tee shirt, and unbuttoned my jeans and took them down. With all my clothes in a pile on the floor, I sat down on the edge of the bed, obediently clad in only my briefs, to await her arrival.

The bedside lamp was the only illumination as she swung the door open and walked into the room. I drew my breath in sharply as she came into view. She had changed into a black velvet bra and panty set, with black garters and stockings with seams up the back of her legs. And she held in her hand a large hairbrush—smooth, wooden, and oval. I could hear my heart thumping in my chest.

She sat down beside me on the bed, smiling at my arousal straining to be free of my briefs. “Are you ready?” she asked again. I nodded once more; my eyes still round with delight as I took in her outfit. “Let’s go, then.”

She guided me into the position she wanted me—I ended up on my knees and elbows, my bottom raised way up in the air, and my face next to the surface of the bed. She pressed her hand into my lower back, to sharpen the angle and expose my bottom even further. My briefs were pulled tight against my skin. Kneeling beside me, she placed a hand on my bottom, and leaned down to kiss me. She rubbed her hand across the thin cotton material of my underwear as she watched my face, my eyes closing in anticipation. She then told me what to expect. “I’m going to spank you twenty times by hand with your briefs on, then twenty more on your bare bottom, and then the last fourteen will be very hard, with the hairbrush, and you will count them aloud. Okay?”

I swallowed, and found my voice. “Okay,” I said while looking over my shoulder at her.

“Let’s get started,” she said.

I felt her hand leave my bottom, and then return with a sharp sting. “One,” she said, pausing to let the first one have its effect. CRACK. “Two,” she announced. My breathing was becoming faster, and my arousal was incredible. Every fantasy about spanking I had ever had was coming to life here on my bed. She paused again, watching my reaction and smiling. CRACK. “Three.” She continued the routine, spanking, counting, pausing, and spanking again. When she reached twenty, my bottom was quite warm, I was moaning with arousal, and she leaned down to kiss me again. “Are you enjoying this?” she whispered in my ear. I nodded emphatically, too aroused to speak. She worked her fingers underneath the elastic of my underwear and pulled them to my ankles. Instructing me to lift my feet, she took them completely off and threw them to the side. I was completely naked and the cool air in the room caressed my warm bottom. She replaced her hand, asked again, “Ready?” I nodded once more, and her hand swung again. SMACK. The sting was sharper this time, and made my whole body tingle. “Twenty-one,” she said, pausing once more. Again and again she spanked, her voice announcing the number each time. My head was spinning, and her voice seemed far away. My erection was throbbing beneath me, dripping in arousal, my entire body overcome with sexual energy. Eventually, she reached forty. She stopped and slipped her hand between my legs to feel my erection. “Ooh, you’re so hard…” she murmured. I could hear in her voice that she was becoming aroused just watching me. She reached for the hairbrush, and rubbed its smooth surface against my quite red and warm bottom. “You’re going to count these last ones for me, okay?” A moaning, throaty okay was my response. “These will be a little harder, and if you lose count, I’ll have to start over.”

The first smack with the hairbrush was the sharpest sting yet. I gasped, swallowed, and said aloud, “One.”

“Oh, no, sweetheart, that was forty-one,” she said playfully. “We’ll have to try that one again.” CRACK.

“Forty-one,” I said breathlessly.

“Good,” she murmured seductively. She swung the hairbrush harder this time. SMACK.

“Forty-two,” I moaned. The warmth from my bottom was spreading throughout my body, and I wondered if my orgasm would overtake me during my spanking. I could not remember ever being so aroused. She didn’t give me time to think about it. SMACK. Even harder. I obediently counted aloud. Again—I was moaning incessantly by this time, our desire almost tangible. The rest of the spanking was a blur, as she spanked harder and harder each time. By fifty-four, my bottom was flaming red and I was warm through and through. Sweat beaded on my temples as I panted the last few numbers. When it was over, I remained in the position, waiting on her to tell me what happened next. She left me as I was, but she came to lie in front of me on her back. “Did you like that?” she teased as she looked down at me. I rolled my eyes back as I nodded.

“You can’t imagine how much I liked it,” I said. “What now?”

“Well,” she purred, “I think you should find some way to thank me for fulfilling your fantasy.” She lifted her hips and removed her panties. Placing her hand on the back of my head, she guided my face insistently between her legs. I realized as I began to kiss her vagina that she was almost as aroused as I was. I licked and probed with my tongue, guided by her moans. I held hands with her along the sides of her body as I kissed, feeling her grip tighten in moments of extreme pleasure. After a few minutes, I felt her body tense, and she moaned loudly as orgasm overtook her. She raised her hips off the bed and clasped her hands behind my head in the throes of her passion. When her orgasm subsided, she pulled me up to her face, and kissed me. Reaching between my legs, she guided my throbbing erection to her very wet vagina. “I want to watch you come now,” she whispered. I moaned as I slid inside of her—I knew she would not have a long wait. Seconds later, I erupted. Moaning loudly, I came for what seemed like forever, as the primal arousal that had been building all night spilled out of my body. I collapsed next to her, and we looked into each other’s eyes in the afterglow. Neither of us said anything; we just let the silence wash over us. Love was shining in our eyes as we shared the experience. We kissed, and she smiled. “Some bet, hmm?”

I sighed, and closed my eyes as I smiled. “It was super.”

©JRH 1995-2011