Asking for it

I’m not saying that she was asking for it, but as I closed the door to our tiny apartment, she was lying over the back of the sofa, her tight skirt-clad bottom gently swaying up in the air, enticing me, beckoning me over. Next to her, precariously balanced on the back of the sofa was a hairbrush, a silicon spatula and a belt, waiting for me. From the tightness of her skirt, I could see that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She didn’t say a word and shook her bottom a little more, as if a taunt.

Not one to go against her wishes, I uncuffed my shirt and rolled up its sleeves. I appreciate comfort, you see, and I didn’t want to give her a subpar performance. After all, she had gone through all that trouble to… lie around waiting for me, I guess. There probably were a hundred reasons for her to deserve a spanking, and, truthfully, I didn’t really need to know which one had brought that about right then and there.

Instead, I put the tip of my fingers in the small of her back, and felt her shiver. A small moan escaped from her lips, and I noticed that she was wearing a blindfold. One hand still on her back, the other slid across the skirt and cupped her round cheeks. She shook her bottom a little more, pushing it into my hand. I went down to her thighs and caressed them, seemingly at random, losing my hand between them. Her breathing was getting harder already, and she spread her legs a little.

Bending down, I laid a soft kiss on her right cheek, then immediately followed with a hard slap that pushed her hard against the back of our sofa. She cried out, but said nothing more. I spanked her left cheek just as hard, and she pressed herself against the sofa again. She raised her bottom up, tiptoeing in her heels, wordlessly begging for more. Being a gentleman, I obliged.

Slap after slap, she cried and moaned and heaved. At some point, her skirt had come up, revealing that I had indeed been right and that no underwear was to be found underneath it. Her pearly white cheeks had gone to pink, to red, to bright, deep crimson. I could see that her blindfold was getting wet, and that she was biting her lips not to cry harder. Between her thighs, the pearling wetness was an invitation and I couldn’t help but slide my fingers over it, caressing, probing, and teasing her. She pressed her legs shut and pushed her bottom out. Clearly, it wasn’t time for that yet. I grabbed the hairbrush.

Later, finally satisfied, she ripped the blindfold off, panting. On trembling legs, she got up. Without looking at me, she started walking towards our bedroom. Then, looking back over her shoulders and with her tongue licking her lips, she asked:

“Well? Is that all you’ve got?”

Independent

Apparently, the day after V day is Slap Day to some people… Seemed fitting!

It’s also singles awareness day, so if you are single and would like a hug, come over here and get a big one!

As always, I love you all!

Happy Valentine’s

If I take you over my knee
And punish you mercilessly
Will you be mine?
Will you be mine?

If I spank you with hand and brush
And make both pairs of your cheeks blush
Will you be mine?
Will you be mine?

If I cane your trembling bottom
The colour of leaves in autumn
Will you be mine?
Will you be mine?

If I promise I’ll make you cry
While telling you exactly why
Will you be mine?
Will you be mine?

If I promise to hold you tight
And hold you close throughout the night
Will you be mine, will you opine?
Love, will you be my Valentine?

In the hallway

Polly closed the door and stepped into their apartment. She could feel herself blush already. That phone call one the way home had not been pleasant, and she knew very well what was waiting for her. Polly was a bubbly 25-year-old, as upbeat as they came, and she always found a silver lining to every situation. This time, however, there wasn’t any that she could discern.

Nervously, she tucked one side of her hair behind her ear, took her jacket off and hung it in the hallway. James, her boyfriend, was waiting in the living room. She knew he was because he had told her that’s where he would wait for her. He had also told her about what would happen next. In truth, she had hoped she would get away with that one. Unfortunately, she hadn’t counted on the credit card bill coming in the mail. Isn’t it all online these days? she told herself. She bit her lip. She was stalling, standing there in the hallway like an idiot. She felt a knot in her stomach; she hadn’t been spanked in so long…

Yet, there was desire there too. The spanking would hurt. The shame… Would too, in a different way. But she had been feeling bad about that stupid bill for days, and she craved the catharsis. She craved his hands over her, and around her once he was done. She wanted him to tell her it would all be okay, and that he was going to take care of it. Take care of her.

Oh yes, it would burn. She would cry, and beg, and plead. She would curse her own stupidity, and he would scold her like a child… She shivered. Anticipation? She pressed her thighs together. She was still in the hallway. She knew he had heard her come in —their front door needed a good push to close, it was never a discreet entry. She pulled down on her dress. It felt very short, all of a sudden.

Would he take her panties off? Of course he would. When she was spanked, it was a proper punishment, and a proper punishment was on the bare bottom. She knew that. She hated that. Or did she love it? That moment when the fabric slid down her thighs… It signalled the last stage of the spanking, so to speak, things getting serious. Anything before that was only foreplay.

Foreplay… Was it what it was to her? No, it was a punishment. Pain. Humiliation. Her bottom throbbing in agony, fire radiating from her rear. And fire right between her legs too… She would push her bottom slightly up, parting her leg knowing his eyes would be all over her intimacy. Maybe she would moan. In pain, absolutely, but something else too. She was blushing hard already. Her breathing was heavier.

Would he spank her long? Yes… He had told her already. He wasn’t even mad about the bill. He was mad that she hadn’t told him about it. Especially when it was past due. Maybe, somehow, she had wanted this to happen? She wanted him to take charge… She wanted to lose herself in the comfort of him calling the shots. She also knew the effect her punished bottom had on him. The slaps themselves wouldn’t be the only thing to be hard.

But… He would make her wait. She knew it. He had told her. She would be spanked, she would be punished, then sent to the corner while he dealt with the money. She would have to wait, exposed and deliciously horny for him to come and finally forgive her. Would he take her against the wall? Would he take her in his arm and carry her to the bedroom first? Maybe he had some other thing in mind… He had been waiting for her a while, and he was nothing if not imaginative. She shivered again.

Then she remembered that she was still in the hallway, and that she was still making him wait. Before any of that pleasure, before the forgiveness, there was a spanking waiting for her. A hard, painful, and shameful one. She breathed hard.

And stepped into the room.

Once again…

“Hello corner my old friend…” she thought, trying her best to keep her hands where she had been told to put them, over her head. She wanted nothing more than to rub away the burning pain in her bottom, but she knew that in the end, she would only make matters worse for herself. Not that rubbing her red, throbbing bottom would hurt, but the second spanking she would earn by disobeying certainly would.

Of course, he had been right, she had been speeding, and she had flipped the bird at that stupid bi— at that elderly lady in the other car. Yes, the language had been a bit much… And she had told him to shut up too… In fairness, she probably would have deserved for him to tell her to pull over immediately for a spanking in the car, right there, right then. Sometimes, he really didn’t care if people could see… Just to think of it, she was wet again. She certainly didn’t care. Well, she did it was the most humiliating thing she could imagine. But she liked it. And hated it. It was complicated, okay? And anyway, it hadn’t happened. This time.

After the incident. He had been very quiet all the way home. No scolding, no angry voice. She had kept quiet also, trying to concentrate on her driving and not on the thoughts that were racing through her head. Thoughts of her bottom being thoroughly roasted, mostly. Not stopping and being punished right away meant that he wanted to take his time… And teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget…

Of course, that had been exactly what had happened. Once home, he had told her to go wait for him in the bedroom. She knew what it meant and knew better than to argue. Once there, she had stripped down to her t-shirt and panties, as she always did before he punished her. She was used to it, she had to shamefully admit. She rarely went more than a few days without needing what he called “little adjustments”. The punishments, she felt, weren’t little at all. But the punishments, she knew, were deserved, and needed.

He had made her wait what had felt like a lifetime, her bottom seemingly burning in anticipation. Finally, he had come in. She had been waiting, her hands crossed over her belly, head down. She didn’t dare look up until she was told to do so. And when he did, she mustered the little rebellion she still had in her and blew a strand of hair off her face before asking “What took you so long?” in what she hoped was a too-cool-to-care voice. He had not liked it. Not one bit. In fact, he had turned her around, still standing, and landed twenty hard slaps on her barely covered bottom. She had yelped and moaned immediately, a prelude to the concerto of her cries to come.

And crying she did, big, shameful tears between promises of good behaviour and begging for him to stop, begging for the panties not to come down, begging for the ginger not to be used. The wooden bath brush he had brought with him had not gone to waste either, and she could still feel its heavy head falling on her poor little bottom. In reality, the spanking hadn’t lasted that long. Five minutes? Maybe ten? But he had spent at least as much time scolding her in between burst of spanking. And the shame of it had been worse than the pain. But then, he had told her that he loved her, and he had finally given her the kiss and cuddle that she had been craving all day. Had she done it all just because she had felt that he hadn’t paid enough attention to her? Surely, she wasn’t that childish… Surely…

Still, her heart had been as light as her bottom was hot as she had trotted to the corner. She knew that while she was standing there, he was on the bed, reading, and keeping an eye on her while she cooled off. Then, in a while… Well, they were in the bedroom, and she was already half naked so… She was pretty sure of what would happen next. After all, she was used to it.