A Spanking Story

It’s been a long day and I’m tired. There’s still supper to make and chores to be done and I know that my Sir has had a long day of his own. We muddle through it all, as best we can, and try to relax. I’m antsy and squirmy and can’t settle. My thoughts are beginning to fracture into a million tiny pieces as the stress and worries come crashing down one after the other in my brain. He asks what’s wrong and I can only reply, “Everything.” Because that’s how it feels. Even being in my own skin feels wrong.

He stands and taking my hand quietly leads me to our bedroom. I’m bent over the bed and with no warning my pants are around my thighs, trapping me in place, and then come five smacks. Not too hard, but not soft either. Enough to let me know that he means business. Steadying myself against the bed I prepare for more, enjoying the feel of his hands on my skin. Open handed spankings are my favorite, followed closely by being flogged. I haven’t found a paddle that I like yet and I’m particularly loathe to try a cane. Sir’s hand comes down again, slowly, methodically, turning my skin from its normal paleness to a slight pink that will be bright red before he’s done with me.

Repeatedly his hand meets my flesh, hit after hit after hit. Periodically he checks in, making sure I’m alright. Each time I give him, “Green,” and he is satisfied. I can feel how hot my ass is now and I love it. When he stops hitting me for a moment I teasingly wiggle my ass at him, earning me a quick, sharp, spank on one cheek then the other. “More babygirl?” “Yes, please.” My voice is a half whisper, half moan of pleasure and I can hear movement as he reaches for the flogger. The falls tease my skin for a moment.

I hear it sing through the air just before the first impact and when it hits, perfectly placed, I smile. I know how he worked to learn the flogger before it came anywhere near my ass and I appreciate his care and skill. Another half dozen hits and my breath catches with every one. What has gone from a simple spanking to clear my head has led me to desire and need. My movements change, growing more deliberate as I raise my ass to meet the flogger’s kiss. I can smell my own arousal and he can’t resist sliding a teasing finger along my vulva, dipping into my pussy and laughing softly. “Good girl. Just the way I like you.” I whimper at his words and arch into his touch at the same time. A quick kiss to my shoulder and the flogger whistles again, meeting my skin with a feeling like nothing else. He leaves stripes across my skin, a deeper color than the red from his hand and I giggle when he traces the marks with a finger. I’ve relaxed finally and he gives me another dozen hard and fast with the flogger. A low moan escapes my lips and I hear him chuckle. He knows how I like my pain. And pleasure.

The flogger drops to the floor with a soft thud, his hand rests against my lower back, and two fingers slip into my pussy. I’m drenched and aching for an orgasm. “Not yet,” he says quietly. And his fingers flicker gently, teasingly. I press into him, wanting more. And surprising me, his open palm crashes into my skin again and again as he slowly fingers me. Every time he hits me I can feel my muscles clench around his fingers. But his touch is too light, too gentle for me to come. I’m frustrated now and he laughs again. He’s such a tease. “Ask me.”

“Please, Sir, may I come for you?” My voice is soft, desperate, and needy. I almost don’t recognize it. His free hand squeezes my ass hard and his fingers rub ever so gently against me. Without warning he turns his slow movements into something hard and fast, a drum beating against me, “Now.” His voice is sharp and I know that if I do not give, he will take. I enjoy both, but right now I want nothing more than to fall into the sensation and my orgasm rolls through my body, accompanied by a low moan. My hips buck and I feel a third finger. “Again.” And I do. I’m shaking and he holds me steady. My moans turn to soft sounds of contentment. For now, my brain is quiet and I am focused only on him and what he wants of me.

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Wicked Wednesday 315 -Trademarked by Sir

Sir and I had discussed this for weeks. It would be a very permanent decision and we wanted to make sure it was something we could both live with, especially if things happened to sour between us (not that either of us see that happening.) I’d read up on procedures and he had studied designs and placements and we shared our knowledge together over supper, laughing and joking about how things would go. I was his little pain slut so who knew how I’d handle that part. He assured me I’d be fine; I was convinced I’d embarrass myself.

Finally after all the talking and figuring out and deciding was done the appointment was booked. Now it was just a waiting game. And that was the worst part. Finally, the day of I made sure I was well hydrated and had eaten and all was in order. We drove to the shop together and in we went. The procedure started out just like any tattoo session did as the design was checked and copied. I was growing more and more nervous. It was a tiny piece though, shouldn’t take long.

The artist disappeared into the back to set up and when they were ready I headed back, bared my left hip, and the design was placed. Sir approved the location and asked the artist not to use any lidocaine. There was a look from the artist to me and I nodded in agreement. “I want to know what this feels like.”

I settled on my side and got as comfortable as I could waiting for things to begin. Sir chatted briefly with the artist and stood watching where he could see my face and watch my reactions. Finally, after what seemed like an interminable amount of time they were ready to begin and pulled on a pair of gloves, picked up their instrument and made the first cut. It took a moment before I registered any pain, the scalpel was so sharp and the cut so shallow. Soon I was lying there quietly just absorbing the pain into me, relaxing into it. Even the artist commented and I merely smiled. Sir laughed softly, “Ohhh, she’ll be fine, won’t you my little pain slut?” I blushed at this and nodded. “Yes Sir, I will be. I might enjoy it a bit too much so you’ll have to forgive me…,” I trailed off embarrassing myself. The artist smiled and nodded. “You’ll be fine. I’ve seen things before during other types of work.”

Slowly the outline of a beautiful lily was done and I could look down and see it. At some point my pussy had gone from a little damp to soaked and I was in desperate need of an orgasm. “Now for the fun part. I’ll be making tiny cuts and peeling away tiny amounts of skin to expose the layer beneath. It will hurt more that the outline did. Do you want me to numb it?” I looked to Sir for an answer but he just smiled at me. “Your choice, babygirl. Think you can take it?” “I’ll try.” I nodded my head and laid back. My artist grinned. “Tough cookie. I’ve seen men twice your size cry at tattoos and they couldn’t even handle the thought of this.”

Now the hard work began and the strangeness of my skin being literally peeled away from my body was at once a strange feeling, enough that it drove me wild. Soon I was panting softly and the artist glanced at me, nodded once and then looked at Sir, who was watching me closely. “Babygirl, let it out and then we can continue.” I took one long inhale and my entire body shuddered for a long moment. I never made a sound though and exhaled slowly my eyes closing blissfully. “Thank you Sir.” “Can you be good and still now?” “Yes Sir.” “Shall I numb it now? The process will go faster if I do.” He nodded to the artist, “I think so. Babygirl got what she came for.” And I blushed like there was no tomorrow. After my skin was numb to the sensation I was able to finally relax and I half dozed through the rest of the procedure while Sir simply watched as the artist was too focused on my skin to be terribly chatty.

Finally, when all was said and done I had a beautiful lily carved into my hip with strict instructions on how to care for it if I wanted the scars to keloid and stand out against my pale skin. I had officially, permanently, and irrevocably been marked as His. The collar I wore could be removed. This could not.

 

Wicked Wednesday 314 – Suede on Skin

 

Natalie lazed in bed, letting the bright sunlight stream through the room. She could hear Victor getting ready for work downstairs and knew that she should get up, but it was extra difficult this morning. She simply didn’t want to leave the warmth of her bed behind. Victor pounded up the stairs and met her relaxing in bed and smiled at her. “It’s a shame I have an early meeting. A kiss will have to do.” And he bent down to her as she lifted herself to meet him, sharing a rough kiss that left them both wanting more. But they hadn’t the time. “Tonight,” he breathed against her lips and in a moment he was back down the stairs and out the door.

With a sigh, the pretty blonde rolled out of bed, leaving the covers a scattered mess to be put back together later. Maybe. She padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower before taking a look at herself in the mirror. Not bad for middle age she thought to herself. She spun and when she did caught a glimpse of something dark on her rear end. She craned her neck around for a closer look and rubbed at her skin. Her fingertips came away black as well and she frowned slightly. Then she smiled when the memory hit her.

Nude and bent over the bed Victor had taken a soft flogger to her skin. His hits hadn’t left marks, except for the black dye apparently, and she tilted her head, thinking about the moment that the suede had first contacted with her skin. It had been like a tiny electric shock and it made her jump. They both laughed, but Victor had stroked the falls down her back ever so gently and spoke in a firm tone she’d never head from him before. “Be still.” Normally, Natalie wasn’t one for orders and tended to do as she pleased, but she’d promised to try this game and see how she liked it. So far it was interesting. A flurry of hits as quick as Victor could manage. The precise descent of each hit told her he had practiced learning to use it and the care he had taken to ensure he wouldn’t accidentally injure her made her smile.

She turned fully around and stared at the marks on her ass. It had been red last night she knew, but the dye had gone unnoticed and there wasn’t a bruise to be seen. Had it been fun though? Would she left him do it again, maybe harder next time? Natalie really didn’t know. She just hoped the dye hadn’t stained the sheets as she slept and made a mental note to check later. But first a shower. She stepping under the warm water and tipped her head back letting it slide across her skin, around her curves, into her hair, and sighed with pleasure. She recalled having made that same noise the night before. Was it while Victor was hitting her? She couldn’t fully remember all the details; it had been a lot to take in all at once. But she knew something had made her happy so she thought harder determined to flesh out the memory to its fullest. And she suddenly thought yes, it was when he hit her, right across the fullest part of her ass, the falls of the flogger connecting, then sliding away. She wanted to feel that sensation again.

As she showered she replayed the flogging from last night, over and over in her head. She even knew how many hits there had been. Thirty. Not too hard, not too soft, just thirty even hits, to let her test out the idea of being flogged. She closed her eyes remembering the fucking that had come after. Victor had been aggressive and tender at once and she loved it. Her will submitted to his. His cock had driven into her cunt filling it right up and she moaned softly to herself. Leaning against the shower wall, letting the water pound her skin she masturbated slowly, her fingers tracing her clit with one hand as the other played with her nipples. She kept picturing last night, the way he’d instructed her to bend over the bed and present herself to him. At first it had been somewhat embarrassing, being on display like that, even if Victor was the only one who could see her. Then he pressed her back further into the bed, causing her to arch and lift her ass higher. “Better,” he’d growled, and teased her ass with the tips of the flogger. How soft it had felt then. He warned her that he was going to hit her and the single stroke fell across her ass the flogger whistling through the air just before impact. Over and over he’d hit her, never once pausing, trusting that if it was too much for her she would end their game. He’d been proud of her when she didn’t.

By now, Natalie was fingering her wet cunt, wishing Victor was there to fuck her, to suck and bite at her nipples, to hit her again. She moaned, her noises drowned out by the water and grabbed the removable head from the wall. Angling it just so, she let the water pound against her clit, fucking herself with her fingers. With a strangled cry her orgasm took her body over and she shook, barely able to keep herself upright. She gave a satisfied sigh and licked her fingers clean before she went about the business of actually showering. She scrubbed at the black dye on her skin and got most of it off, but could see remnants of it in spots here and there. She laughed a soft laugh as the memory of that first hit crossed her mind again and Natalie decided that, yes, she wanted Victor to hit her again. Maybe even with something harder. Maybe even leave marks. And maybe she would even be OK with that firm tone of voice.

But she wanted to try it again, once or a dozen times more just to be sure she liked it. She thought Victor might be quite obliging on that point and she figured a sexy text message or two should get the point across. Natalie smiled again and went about her day, reminded every so often of the few faint dye marks left on her skin and couldn’t wait for Victor to get home.

KOTW – Accents, Languages, Voices – (That Sexy Growl)

He tilted my head back, looked at me, then leaned over so I could hear him speak.”Strip for me.” The powerful voice with that slight edge of a growl did funny things to my cunt, but I immediately started removing clothing, not caring if it was sexy or not. He just wanted me naked. The moment my panties hit the floor he had me bent over the bed spanking my ass with one hand while pinning me with the other. “Count.” And I counted as though my life depended on it because in that moment, to me, it did.

I knew logically he’d never purposefully injure me in any way, but right then having my ass reddened while he growled filthy things at me, told me I was a slut, his slut, and that he would beat my pretty ass into submission was a perfect storm for me to be wet and ready when he slid two fingers into my cunt. “Ohhh, dirty girl aren’t you?” I nodded my agreement while arching my body against him. “Please…” My voice was a soft whine of neediness.

His fingers were gone in an instant and shoved into my mouth. I sucked eagerly, hard, tasting myself and moaning. My ass was on fire, my cunt was throbbing and he just kept up with that sexy, sexy growl of his, giving orders and driving me closer to that edge. Finally, when he thought I was ready his voice changed to a soft whisper that somehow still growled. “Come for me before I fuck you.”

And I did. And he fucked me. And when it was all over the sleepy growl was an “I love you,” as he pulled me close, caressing my skin.

 

Wicked Wednesday 309 – Conviction – (I, Submissive)

 

We all have strong beliefs that shape us and make us into the person that we are. I strongly believe in being myself, whatever that means. In this particular instance though, I’m talking about sexual submission because that is a part of who I am. My submission is so much a part of me that I spent years feeling incomplete without it and struggling to understand why I felt like I needed it so much. I still struggle with they why of it sometimes.

But there’s something about service and submission that just does it for me. I crave that power exchange and while I have it in my life now, I am greedy and want even more of it. I don’t think I could do a Total Power Exchange 24/7 kind of D/s relationship. I do think I could use a bit more discipline and structure in my life and while I can be disciplined and make a schedule and whatnot on my own, that’s not the same as submitting to what someone else wants in regards to what I want or may not want. Like food. I have complicated issues with food. But if my partner and I are out and they order for me, even if they’ve consulted me about what I want, those issues vanish temporarily because it is OK for me to eat the food without feeling guilty because Sir says its OK.

There are so many things like that, that are part of my submission and I’m sure there are some that are as yet undiscovered. They’ll come in time as my submission improves and deepens and I become more in tune with what I want and need as a submissive. I’ve always felt that this was a lonely road to walk because I’ve never had people I could talk to about being submissive and what it means to them or to me. I could never open up to anyone about this side of my life because I simply didn’t know anyone who might even begin to understand. Now I’m learning that while the conversation would be nice, I don’t have to have it. I can explore my submission through writing or reflecting or even talking to my Sir. I’d still love to hear and learn from other submissives experiences because I think growth and change are an important part of leading one’s life, no matter how you choose to live it.

I think that my next goal in improving myself to be a better submissive will be to continue to work on learning to love my body just the way it is instead of the way I wish it was. Then when I am tied in ropes or left otherwise exposed I can focus on the event that is happening instead of wondering if the rope makes me look like a sausage about to burst from its casing or if my partner is repulsed by my rolls or my body as a whole. Logically, I know they aren’t. They show me every day that they think I’m beautiful just the way I am, but wrapping my mind around that one is hard. So here’s to pushing through that mental block, past those voices that whisper inside my head. Here’s to using these beliefs as a springboard to a better me.

Where will I go from here? Only time will tell, but I want to be a submissive that makes my Dominant proud. Proud to have me, proud to love me, proud that they have helped me become a better person through my submission. I, submissive, want to be good.

Wicked Wednesday – 304 – (A Guard and His Princess…Again)

 

Several months and many arguments later, Adrienne’s father agreed that while she was a princess and would be required to act as such, she was free to live her life as she saw fit provided she brought no shame to them or theirs. Her duties were few and she often conducted them in her own unique ways that only endeared her to people the world over. It seemed that her disappearance and subsequent reappearance was taken in stride and despite the gossip rags best speculations, nothing was ever released on the matter.

Gordon Abbot returned to his duties as just another guard, albeit one with a knack for finding missing objects. He spoke to no one about his time with the Princess. He still saw her from time to time, her hair back to its natural mahogany shade, her blue eyes seemingly happy, but they did not speak. Oh how he wanted to though, just to whisper “Hello, Kitten.” as they passed one another in a hallway. He wondered what she would do if he did it. How she would react. Would it stop her in her tracks? Would she blush remembering the time they shared together? Or would she just move on? That last question was part of what kept him quiet, between that and propriety he knew he wouldn’t say a word. But oh how he missed her.

Adrienne missed him as well. She found herself wishing she knew where he lived when he wasn’t working. She wondered if she could find out, could reach him without the whole palace finding out; casual dalliances would be somewhat unseemly even for the headstrong and willful princess that she was. She cried herself to sleep many nights, wondering what could have been.

Until, once again, fate and circumstance threw Adrienne and Gordon together. She would be going abroad, this time for diplomatic reasons, but after her last disappearance her father decided that having a bodyguard to keep her in check was a good idea and who better than the one who had brought her home to him. Both of them wondered what this trip might hold. They were stiff and formal in front of her family as they left, but once on the plane, the pair began to relax. Slowly they began to chat and Gordon explained more of the backstory behind the trafficking ring she’d found herself caught up in. She found the details to be incredibly terrifying and hoped aloud that she never ended up in a situation like that again. “Not on my watch Princess.” And they were both reminded of what had happened just after he called her that for the very first time.

Suddenly she leaned into him and dared to kiss the side of his neck and along his jawline. Gordon’s eyes closed and his voice was dangerously soft, “You really shouldn’t do that Princess.” “Are you going to stop me?” In response he turned his head towards her and found her lips hotly, urgently, the pent up passion of many months bubbling over. They spent the rest of the plane ride holding on to one another, sharing kisses and touches, and talking about the months previous. He laughed when he realized she was wearing those damn boots again. When the pilot announced they would be landing they pulled apart, reluctantly, and Adrienne smoothed her hair and reapplied lipstick that had long ago been kissed off. She became every inch the polished princess once more. And Gordon tried to push the image of her in nothing but her boots out of his mind.
The landing and trip to the hotel was uneventful, her initial diplomatic meetings bored her, but were quite successful, and she couldn’t wait to finally unwind and relax, hopefully in Gordon’s arms. They hadn’t spoken in hours, except for very cursory exchanges in public and wouldn’t be able to speak freely until Gordon had her safely ensconced in the hotel where the entire top suite was hers for the trip. Upon their arrival he insisted upon searching the entire suite for anything amiss and finally agreed with the impatient Adrienne that nothing was out of place.

Then and only then were they free once more. Adrienne had no idea just how Gordon would react to her actions so before he could even think to stop her she was nude save a tiny thong and barely there bra. She gave a little spin on her tip toes and then stood facing him, her chin lifted in the slightest of challenges. Gordon stared for a long moment before crossing the room to crush her in his embrace. Their lips met again, no less hungry than before and soon he he had stripped of the tiny encumbrances she wore before stopping to remove his own clothes. They fell into bed together and Gordon quickly found himself between her thighs tasting her the way a starving man first tastes food. She writhed beneath him, tangling her hands in his hair and cried out as she came for him. He slid up the bed now and pressing his weight into her, spoke, “Do you want me to fuck you Princess?” “Please fuck me, Sir.” Her voice was soft, but not meek, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that he loved to see. It was something he hadn’t seen in her at all until they were back together.

So he fucked her. Gently at first, teasing her, moving slowly and deliberately while she clung to his shoulders and begged him for more. “That’s right Kitten. Beg for me.” And with his words he felt her body spasm uncontrollably, but not quite reach that peak; that was when he drove his cock inside of her as she begged him to fuck her. Her pretty pussy didn’t want to let go of him and she was gasping for breath. He growled and tangled his fingers in her hair tilting her head back to kiss her neck and shoulders before pulling her back to look at him. “Come for me.” Adrienne cried out his name as she did.

He spanked her til her ass was on fire, she sucked him off. They fucked again and he took her ass while she fingered herself. They played the night away until, finally, exhausted they fell asleep again tangled in each other. Adrienne’s last coherent thought was that if doing this felt so right and was so good then why was it wrong? Just as his eyes closed Gordon wondered if he should tell her that he loved her.

Learning to Submit

Sir yanked her forward across his knees and hiked her skirt up and her panties down and began to spank her ass hard and fast. She was in trouble again for her smart mouth and he didn’t care whether she was sorry or not right this second. Her ass was quickly peppered with hand prints and she had begun to cry quietly to herself. Despite the tears, her cunt was soaking wet and he stroked it gently making her shudder, before sliding her off his lap and onto the floor.

Hastily she assumed a most submissive position on her knees with her body been towards him almost as if in worship. He nodded approvingly at this, although she could not see him. “That’s the third time today you decided to run your smart mouth. Next time you do it your punishment will be more than just a severe spanking. Do you understand?” She nodded her head and spoke just above a whisper, “Yes, Sir.” “Good. Now you’ve taken your spanking like a good girl, but we’re not done. I want you to go get your journal and you will write one hundred times, ‘I will not be smart with Sir’ and your handwriting had better be neat and legible.”

She stifled a groan at this as she hated writing lines, but right now she knew better than to say a word or he would double her lines and she’d miss any chance of getting back into his good graces. After some time had passed and her lines were written she presented the journal to Sir so that he may examine her work. “There, that’s what I wanted from you. Now come here Kitten and sit with me.” She cuddled up next to him, her ass still smarting and her still wishing for a good hard fuck that she knew she wasn’t getting. He idly petted her hair while half watching a program on TV and it would appear that they were the picture of domestic bliss.

“Kitten, would you like some cream?” She giggled and slid off the couch to kneel at his feet and he nodded at her. Happily she unbuckled his pants and pushed his boxers aside to get to his cock; she licked her lips and then licked his cock, treating it like a lollipop and getting it good and wet before taking him into her mouth. She sucked gently hollowing out her cheeks for the best suction and gradually worked her way down the length of his cock as close as she could to taking him into her throat. He watched her through dark eyes, a half smile on his lips and ran his fingers through her hair. “Good girl.”

Quickly his fingers clenched into her hair, holding her tightly as he began to fuck her face driving his cock deeper into her mouth with every stroke. Kitten did her best to relax for him and focused on keeping her breathing steady. Sir pulled his cock almost all the way out of her mouth and moving slowly, slid back inside, pushing further and further this time until he felt her submit completely as he pushed into her throat. “Swallow.” She did so twice and was trying to pull away so she could get some air. He allowed this; after all one did not wish to break their toys. His grip in her hair loosened, but he never let go continuing to fuck her gently, letting her lick and suck as he did so. He tried to maintain a steady paced even as his impending orgasm approached, but when Kitten moaned around his cock, all bets were off.

Sir began to thrust quickly, his rhythm faltering while Kitten plied her tongue and lips to get the cream she so desperately wanted. He was rapidly losing control and let his grip on her hair go completely, his hips rocking back and forth. Kitten made another noise that vibrated along the length of his hardness and he groaned softly. “That’s my girl. You swallow every drop, you understand?” His voice was slightly strained and Kitten nodded affirmatively never taking her eyes from his as she sucked and licked and played with his cock in her mouth. A quiet rushing sensation filled his head and he shoved his hips forward one final time as he began to shoot jets of his hot come into Kittens mouth. She almost couldn’t swallow fast enough to keep up, but she did and every drop went straight into her belly. She loved the taste of him, of his come, and slowly pulled her lips from his cock to tell him so. He laughed softly and sank back onto the couch while she knelt there at his feet, her head resting on his thigh. They enjoyed a long moment of companionable silence before she spoke, with a giggle in her voice. “Thank you for the cream, Sir.” He laughed and pulled her up against him for a kiss. “Anytime you like Kitten. You’re becoming such a good girl for Sir.”