spanking

Forgiven 

“Fuck!” 

She slapped a hand over her mouth and glanced around the room. That word was naughty. When she looked back down at the checkbook, she groaned into her hand. 

“Oh. No.” She slumped down into the chair as what she’d done truly dawned on her. 

Her responsiblity, the one thing she was good at, was managing the finances for the house. Keeping the checkbook balanced, paying the bills, and managing the saving accounts. She was quick, efficient, and always stayed on top of things… Until today. 

Too late, she realized she’d sent out a bunch of bills and over drafted the main account. Not too serious if they weren’t at the time of year where money hovered on the tight side. He was in between big projects and she was off for her usual holiday from work to regulate herself mentally. 

“Fuck,” she whispered this time, at a loss for what to do. 

She quickly ran through her options, but couldn’t get her thoughts to see beyond the mistake. Panic was starting to rise rapidly and with it sharp disappointment in herself. Just one job and she couldn’t manage it without making a stupid mistake, one task and she… 

“Kitten?” 

Her head popped up. She hadn’t even realized she’d laid it down. The recriminations had sent her spiraling before she could stop. 

“Hi, Daddy.” She couldn’t muster a smile, her heart beating so wildly she worried she’d pass out. 

He’d crossed the room in an instant, one hand going to her nape to steady her. “Focus on me, Kitten. I’m here, focus on me.”

It took a few minutes, but his presence anchored her and her breathing calmed. He massaged her neck and shoulders until she melted into his touch. 

“Now tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was gentle. 

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” She squeaked. 

“That’s five with the cane, Kitten.” 

She swallowed hard, considering lying so she could fix the situation, but she knew he’d find out eventually. She drooped in her seat a little as she considered how to tell him. 

“Daddy…” she looked up at him. There was only caring and concern in his eyes. She took a deep breath and told the truth. “I messed up the checkbook. Bad.” 

When she would’ve hid her face in her hands, her held her still with that staying hand at her nape. 

His expression didn’t change much, expect for a narrowing of his eyes. “Explain.” 

She did so as quickly and concisely, not sparing herself. He said very little after she stopped speaking, his mind seemingly in another place. When he focused on her again, he still had the same caring look firmly in place. 

“You messed up, Kitten.” 

Her whole body seemed to deflate. She’d disappointed him, she’d ruined everything and — 

“But,” he continued with a squeeze at her neck to settle her, “it’s fixable. I keep extra cash for emergencies, you know.” 

She felt horrible for making him use it. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more diligent.” 

“Stop.” Her mouth shut before she could say anything else. “You’re going to be punished, Kitten. Here’s why, and I want you to listen to me closely when I say this: you’ve made a mistake, and punishment comes because of mistakes, but this punishment is just as much a reminder to stop being so hard on yourself.”
She felt tears prick her eyes as she tried to absorb his words into her soul. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, big mistakes. When you mess up all you need to remember is you’re not perfect and that’s okay, but you’re still amazing at what you do. Come to me instead of letting it send you into a black hole.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“Ah, but this spanking will help you remember that.” He prompted with a squeeze and she rose from her chair. “Go get the cane, pet.” 

She retrieved the cane and returned to find him seated in her chair. The atmosphere in the room had changed, and she knew she’d not enjoy this even as it cleansed her. With a pat to his lap, she settled across and braced her hands on the floor. Her anxiety seemed to disappear as her body connected with his. 

He worked her shorts down until her bottom was bare and smoothed a hand from her back down to palm her between her thighs. She lifted her hips just a little to open more to his touch. 

“A hard spanking and then 10 with the cane.” He removed his hand to pat her bottom gently. “I want you to tell me throughout what you’re to remember.” 

Before she could reply, he began. 

She moaned softly before speaking. “I’m not perfect and that’s okay.”

“That’s more than okay, pet, because you’re still very good, right?”

Silly tears pricked again and she had to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Yes, sir.”

He spanked her hard in quick succession, barely letting her catch her breath. The normal pain came fast before she could adjust, jolting her forward and squealing. It wasn’t long before she was crying tears, overwhelmed and needing to release the pent of feelings inside of her. 

“It’s okay.” She repeated over and over as her tears fell. 

It wasn’t long before he stopped and began rubbing at her hot bottom. The skin seemed to throb in time to her heart beat. She felt sensitive and antsy under his touch. 

He helped her to stand, guiding her between his knees.  

“Nearly there. Bend over the desk for me, pet.”

Her tears fell anew as she draped herself over the smooth surface of the desk. There was no preamble this time as he barely let her lay flat before the strikes came. He didn’t draw it out, layering the sharp bite of the cane over her abused bottom one after the other. 

She was a mess when he finished, sobbing into the desk, but feeling relaxed and at ease. Sitting was going to be a chore. 

“It is okay, Kitten. Why is it okay?”

She wiped at her face before answering. “Because even though I messed up, I’m still good at what I do.”

“That’s right, Kitten.” His hand was between her thighs again, cupping her cunt that was alive with need. “You deserve a reward for being a good girl.”

He pushed two fingers inside, his path eased by how wet the spanking had made her. Her body made juicy sounds as he fingered her, the sound only making her hotter. 

“God, Daddy,” she moaned as her hips wiggled and thrust back into his hand. 

She was close, but couldn’t seem to crest the hill like she desperately needed. Her sound of frustration made him chuckle behind her. 

“What do you need, Kitten? Speak up.” 

“Your cock, Daddy.” She rose up on tiptoe, seeking him almost unconsciously. “Please give me your cock.” 

He thrust into her and it was perfect. She was pushing back harder, tasting that shimmering edge as it gathered in her belly. The pain in her bottom as his hips smashed into her served to sharpen the pleasure. Her fingernails dug into the desk with the intensity of it. 

“Ooo, Daddy. Please… I’m going to…”

He wrapped her hair in a tight fist, lifting her so she was flush against him. The way his lips brushed her ear nearly took her over. 

“Come for me, Kitten. Come on Daddy’s cock.”

She froze, her mouth a perfect O as she spasmed around him. It was so good, the whole of the moment wanting to steal her sight and her consciousness. 

He spilled inside her moments later, his loss of control only extending her climax until she did fade out a little. When she returned to full awareness, he had her in his lap, his softening cock still firmly embedded in her body. 

“You’re going to take a nap, Kitten. I want you to relax and I’ll sort this out, understand?” 

She was too spent to argue. “Can we snuggle for a little longer, Daddy?” 

He wrapped her up tight in his arms as his answer. 

It’s been sooo long since I’ve participated in Masturbation Monday. It’s May though, the month of Masturbation so of course I’m on board. I’m off to have session now. 

You go enjoy the other offerings

Yes, Sir

I heard his footsteps on the carpet. Nothing loud or noticeable, but anticipation had sharpened my senses so even his light tread made my ears perk up.

My eyes remained shut as he requested, no blindfold just his command to obey. Just his promise of pleasure if I’ve been a good girl.

Resisting the urge to squirm was difficult, but my body reacted in other ways to his approach. The air sensitized my body, sending goosebumps along my skin. My nipples furled tight as though reaching for him. As my heart beat wild in my chest, I captured my lower lip in my teeth to keep from whimpering for him.

“Here’s my pretty pet.”

His voice, a low timber that tickled along my spine, made me tremble. He was near and I longed for him to touch me.

I could feel his warmth heating my skin. My body, bare and eager, ready for him.

Fingertips brush along my shoulder and I do whimper. He’ll tease until I beg or break, and I swallowed back more whimpers as he continued to draw calloused fingers over my body.

“Open your eyes. Were you a good girl today?”

I take him in. He’s dressed casually, comfortable in his jeans and work shirt. He appeared unassuming, but I know who he is beneath the laid back appearance. I know what he’s capable of doing to my body.

I took a breath to steady myself before I speak. Even then my reply is more breathless than I thought possible.

“Yes, sir. I was good for you.”

He hummed low before his hand slipped between my thighs from behind, palming my cunt. I parted my thighs, but barely resisted the urge to rub against that resting hand.

“And what do good girls get?”

He cirlced around to my front without releasing me so we were chest to chest. I drew in a deep breath, taking in the warm scent of him. I’m not sure where he’s been, but he smells of trees and sunshine and I want to lean into him.

“Good girls get spankings.”

“After they kneel pretty for their Sir.”

When he released me with a pinch at my clit, I just contain my gasp. I slipped to my knees with only a slight wobble, placing my hands palm up on my thighs when I’ve settled on my heels.

“Good girl.”

His praise excited me and made me smile. Even after hearing it so often, I still felt that spike of arousal when he told me I’m good.

“Now down.”

I wend to my forearms, lowering my head to the ground and my ass in the air. I spread my thighs wide, hiding nothing.

“How many?”

My ass wiggled at that question, my clit throbbed at the promise of pain.  He palmed my cunt again and I went still.

“As many as you think I need, sir.”

He only laughs. “You may regret that answer, pet.”

The feel of soft leather teased my back. I don’t tell him I won’t regret it at all. He knew my limits and he’d take me right to the edge.

I couldn’t be silent when the flogger fell. It’s my release and I must let it fall from my lips.

I lifted ass higher, I rocked back into each blow, and I thank him.

“Thank you, sir.”

Quickie

Sorry for no posts lately, it’s been a madhouse between work and last week being terrible. Life goes on, right?

He placed a hand between her shoulders and pressed until she bent forward, pressing her hands to the wall. Fingers trailed down her back raising goosebumps along her skin. 

“You need this, don’t you?” His lips brushed her ear, breath tickling and arousing. 

Her head was moving before her mind fully registered the words. A hard hand squeezed her bottom until she yelped. 

“Yes! I need it, sir.” 

He chuckled behind her before pulling at her hips until she pushed her ass back. She pressed her face to the wall and waited. He’s deliver that first slap when he was ready and not a moment before, but the anticipation had her holding her breath. 

The air seemed to change moments before the paddle landed, the sound hitting her ears a beat before the sensation. She gasped, arched, soaking up the heat as it sank into her skin. 

“One. Thank you, sir.” 

Her eyes fluttered shut when he placed a hand against stomach to hold her steady. Every cell of her body seemed to melt at his touch. 

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered before the next smack landed. 

A Servant’s Obedience

Haven’t worked on this since here. Smack my butt will ya. Let’s throw in the added goodness of Masturbation Monday while we’re at it. Go enjoy the others after and maybe I’ll manage to conclude this one someday. 

She couldn’t help fretting the entire day about her scheduled meeting with Mr Davensport. It distracted her at every moment, nearly causing her to ruin the laundry during her morning cleaning and destroy the garden when she attempted to help pick vegetables. The Head Gardner had shooed her back inside with a stormy look. She apologized over and over, but the stern man simply told her not to return until her head was on straight. 

Clara forced herself to clean around the house as she couldn’t ruin much doing that particular task. 

 The door to the office stood ajar and after a quick peek inside, Clara deemed it safe to clean. If this was the closest she could be to him until later, then she’d take it. 

His scent permeated the space. Her lungs breathed in his spiciness and she let herself relaxing into the chore. She opened the drapes and pushed up the windows to bring in a little air. Clara hummed softly as she cleared the dust from his shelves, admiring the decorative covers of his tomes. When she reached the front of his desk, she straightened his papers being careful not to upset his work. 

There was a stubborn scuff that she knew would come out with a little more elbow grease. She bent over the expanse to buff the surface. Her body swayed and shifted in an unconscious invitation as she worked. 

Clara was startled by hands on her hips and a body pressing her into the desk. She glanced over her shoulder to find Mr Davensport gazing down at her with heat in his eyes. 

“Are you trying to tempt me, Clara?” His voice was gruff, his hands squeezing her hips. 

While some small part of her said she should sit up and put distance between them, Clara couldn’t fight the urge to remain positioned as he’d trapped her. She dropped the rag and planted her hands on the desk. 

“No, Mr Davens–” His growl stopped her. “No, Travis. I’d never dream of doing such a thing.” 

She felt the evidence of his arousal through their clothes. The hardness pressed into the flesh of her bum and set her body on fire. 

“But tempt me you do, Clara girl. I’ve been distracted all day with how I would finally spank your bottom.”

 Her moan bubbled up. She felt hot and desperate to shed her clothing. “Why wait?” 

“Because,” he breathed but didn’t go on. She felt his breath on her neck.  

His hand dropped to pull the hem of her dress up. Slowly, inch by inch, the air touched her skin sending a wave of goosebumps along her skin. When he had the fabric bunched above her hips so the rough texture of his slacks abraded her skin, she shuddered at the contact. 

“Because I will have you after I spank you, Clara.” He reached around to cup her between her thighs. “I will have you just like this, bent over my bed with your ass heated from my hand so I can feel it as I take you.” 

“Oh God,” she moaned as his fingers played in the wetness he found there. 

“I want to wait. Wait until later when there’s no distractions, no responsibilities, nothing to do except feel you on my lap.” 

Even as he said those words, he plucked at her button until her hips gyrated back against him. He seemed larger against her bare bottom, hotter as she swayed and wiggled. 

“But I will feel you come on my fingers now, sweet girl. I will have your scent on my hand for the rest of the day.”

He leaned over her, pressing her down as he played between her legs. Clara lost all sense as the surety of his fingers rushed her headlong into an orgasm. 

“Mr… Travis! I’m going to, I’m going to.” She gasped as her tummy coiled too tight. 

He kissed along her neck, breathing softly in hair. “Come for me, my girl. Let me feel you.”

She came with a muffled shriek, her hips gyrating hard against him as pleasure washed over her. So good, it held her and stole her breath. All the while he held her tight to him, his fingers buried deep. 

When it passed, she relaxed into the desk, loving the weight of him on top of her. 

He released her slowly, as though reluctant to do so. Her dress fell back to her ankles but she couldn’t find the energy to rise yet. 

“Tonight.” He placed another kiss on her neck before he departed the room as quietly as he entered. 

Clara sighed and lifted herself from the desk. Her anticipation rose and with it came a thread of anxiety. If she wasn’t careful, more of her feelings would get involved here and she’d be in trouble. 

“Don’t lose your head, Clara girl.” 

Too bad such pep talks never worked. 

A Servant’s Obedience

A little more of this and again something for MM

He’d came to her when she least expected it. She was in the middle of her early morning bath, the cold water soaking her thin shift as she hurried to ready herself for the day. The list of things required to keep the estate running was long so indulging in anything beyond a quick sponge was out of the question. 

A knock on her door drew a frustrated moan from her before she could stop it. She’d turned into an irritable mess since that incident in Mr. Davensport’s office. Silly considering nothing had come of it. Weeks had passed and he’d been nothing except the polite man she’d come to respect.

And lust after.

Clara set the rag down, making sure to wrap herself in her old dressing gown before moving to answer the door.

“Good morning, Clara girl.”

She blinked rapidly, surprised to find Mr. Davensport standing in the entryway. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he was doing here. He was dressed in his usual tailored suit, looking ready to do business even at this early hour. Clara was too flustered to get words out.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He sounded grave as though he had something of import to tell her and her only.

She blinked again before backing up to allow him entrance.

The room seemed to shrink as he invaded in her space. Not that there was much room to begin with, her single bed and dresser filling half the allotted space anyway. She saw the room through his eyes, not missing the way he hummed as he looked around. Embarrassment colored her cheeks as she realized how shabby her things truly were compared to his. Considering she was little more than a servant, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Clara stiffened her spine and refused to let her station make her appear weak.

“Can I help you, Mr. Davensport?”

Her voice was far sharper than she’d meant, and when his eyes zeroed in on her she gulped at the fire in the blue depths. She started to stutter out an apology, but his words stopped her. 

“I need to take you over my knee now, Clara.” 

Clara’s mouth snapped shut. It took her a moment before she could form a suitable response. 

“Now? But… But, I have to begin morning chores shortly.” 

His eyes narrowed for a moment, the fire in those depths burning brighter in the low light filtering in the room. He made a sound that rumbled in his chest before he advanced on her. She bumped into the bed, falling on to her bum as he hovered over her. 

“I will never force you to do anything.” He took a breath, his hands clenched at his side. “But I need…” 

He stopped, his eyes closing briefly. The tick in his jaw made something turn in her belly. Clara didn’t think for a second he’d force her, but something about the imposing figure he cut made her extra alert to every move he made. He looked pained and everything in her wanted to soothe him. 

She relaxed her death grip on her robe and reached for his hand. “What do you need, Travis?” 

His eyes snapped open, his gaze holding hers. “I need you, Clara.”

Her breath caught. The need brought her body to life. 

“I tried stopping myself from coming to you after that… Moment in my office. I wanted to give you a chance to think about what you agreed to.” He turned his hand to catch her smaller one. “But I can’t wait anymore. I need to have you over my knee again. Now.” 

Clara sensed there was more to his request, but the intensity of his plea woke something in her. That need to please him bubbled up in her stomach until it filled her whole body with warmth and she found herself nodding in earnest. The smile that broke out over his face reached to his eyes, warming them until they sparkled. 

He took a step back from the bed, dropping her hand. “Remove your dressing gown and lie back on the bed.” 

“Lie back? But how are you to…” Heat hit her cheeks and she glanced away. 

“Clara, please.” The husky urgency made her move. 

She shed her gown, gasping as the cool air chilled the damp fabric clinging to her skin. Her cheeks burned hotter as she lay back, knowing the thin shift hid nothing from his eyes. She closed her eyes, too embarrassed to stand it. 

He sounded strained when he finally spoke again. “Good girl. Lift your shift up above your breasts.”

Her eyes popped open. “Mr. Davensport!”

“Clara.” It was a command and a plea in one. 

She searched his gaze for a long moment, looking for what she wasn’t sure. After wrestling with her reluctance, she reached for the hem, yanking it up and resting it on her chest. Her thighs quivered and her breasts jiggled with every rapid breath she took, but it was his strangled groan that sent electricity to her lower belly. 

“Spread your legs and touch yourself for me.”

The order jolted her, sending a flood of heat through her body. Good God, surely he didn’t mean for her to do… That. Clara couldn’t decide if she was mortified or unbearably aroused.  

She turned her head to find him vibrating with tension. Fists clenched by his side, he looked ready to pounce upon her. More than that, his cock strained the line of his trousers to the bursting point. Everything about him seemed poised to take her. Instead of being frightened by the look in his eyes, it seemed to have a relaxing effect on her. 

“Yes, Mr. Davensport.”

Spreading her legs a little, Clara used tentative fingers to touch, unsure of how to do it. Finding herself so wet was a shock, but more so was discovering how good it felt to touch that secret nub at the top of her lips. Soon the shyness fell away as sensations whipped through her, causing her back to arch and quiet moans to spell from her lips. 

“God in heaven.” 

Clara was too caught up in her pleasure to make sense of his words. The touch of his hand on her thigh made her shudder, her legs parting wider in welcome. 

“I have to touch you.” 

He brushed her hand away, cupping her briefly before plunging two thick fingers deep inside. Her protests at being stopped died on her lips with a high squeak as he filled her. She fisted her sheets, murmuring his name. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he withdrew and thrust back in. 

The urge to touch him was too much to ignore. She reached for the fastenings of his trousers, undoing them before he could utter a single protest. Reaching in, her chilled fingers found hard silky skin. She refused to let her mind take over, pulling him from the confines of the fabric before she lost her nerve. 

He stood thick and proud between the open fastenings. Clara could only hold him, her focus riveted to his hand thrusting inside her. His hand wrapping around her, guiding her up and then down his hardness gave her an idea what he liked. When he let go, turning back to her pleasure, she matched the rhythm of his hand between her thighs. Her free hand strayed to her breast, tweaking her nipple until her her core tightened. 

“God, Clara. You’ve no idea what you do to me.” 

Some streak of feminine power wrapped around her as she rolled her hips and swirled her fingertips around the wet head of his cock. When he jerked into her fist, she did it again on the up stroke. 

Her climax took her by surprise. Going from a coil in the depths of her body to exploding out over every inch of her being from one breath to the next. She cried out his name as she arched against his hand, her thighs gripping tight around his arm. 

So caught up in her own throes, Clara didn’t realize he reached his own end until warm liquid splashed out over her breasts and stomach. She continued her stroking, enjoying the spasm of his body, until he grasped her hand to still its movement. 

“Enough.” He sounded drugged, looked it as he stared down at her. He drew in a ragged breath, letting it go in a long blow before he continued. “Roll to your stomach.” 

She did so, not caring that she rubbed his spend on her sheets. Clara buried her face in her goose pillow and waited for his hand to connect with her bottom. 

Silence fell then. The anticipation growing and feeding her lust as she held her breath. Her hips wiggled almost unconsciously in need. She wanted him to spank her. Needed to feel him warm her skin. 

His hand did make contact, but not to strike her. He simply held her flesh in his hand, squeezing and kneading her until she trembled. 

“I think it would be best if this waited until this evening.”

She turned her head, surprised at his change of heart. When she did, she found his member had returned to its previous hardness and his jaw clenched. 

Clara shook her head in confusion. “But you said you needed to spank me, Mr. Davensport.” 

“My control is thin this morning.” He took a step back, releasing her. “Come to my chambers after dinner. Do not be late, Clara.” 

He tucked himself away before leaving her laying in stunned silence. 

Boxing Day 

He approached her dressed in the black and gray attire of a butler. The gray vest melded perfectly to his chest and the black slacks were tailored to fit his long legs. 

Stopping in front of where she perched nervously on the edge of the high backed Queen Anne chair, he executed a perfect bow before producing a tray with a small cup of tea and two fluffy scones. 

“Mr Davensport, you don’t have to–”

“Nonsense Clara. It’s your day to celebrate.” 

“Yes, yes.” She wet her lips before she continued. “But you don’t need to wait on me.” 

He sat the tray on the low table just to her left and knelt on the soft carpet at her feet. 

“You deserve to be waited on for how much you put up with from me the rest of the year. I’m asking you to allow me to serve you for one day; your one day off.” 

She wrung her fingers, unable to deny neither her attraction to him and the way him serving her made her tingle. She couldn’t deny him when he looked at her with such earnest passion in his eyes. 

“Oh, all right. Just… Just until it’s time for Mass later. Then we’ll return to normal.” She gave a quick nod. 

His smile transformed his face from stern  to something unbelievably handsome. The urge to smooth the strands of hair from his brow were so strong that she buried her hands in the pockets of her thin brown dress. God, how was she to behave herself if he smiled at her so? 

“Very good, Mistress Clara.” He held up a gloved hand when she opened her mouth to complain. “Would you care for cream on your scone or sugar in your tea?” 

“Just, just one lump of sugar, please.” She was back to wringing her hands as she watched him move to the cupboard and retrieve both clotted cream and sugar. 

“I know you like cream on your scone, Clara. On the rare occasion you sneak one from the cook.” 

She blushed to her roots at being caught out so. “Oh dear, how did you… I’m sorry, Mr Davensport.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Mistress Clara, you’re to call me Travis today.” 

That made her sputter the sip of tea she’d take all over the front of his shirt. She stared in horror before shooting to her feet. 

“Oh, heavens. Oh dear, where did I put the rag?” She fluttered around the room, delicate cup still clenched in her hands as she searched for the rag she kept tucked away in every room.

“Clara.” His tone stopped her dead in her tracks. “Sit down this instant.” 

With a wide eyed stare, she moved back to perch on the edge of the chair. Her heart refused to settle under the hard look he continued to give her. 

“Mr Davensport, I’m–” 

“Clara.” The warning was very clear, but she was far too wound up to heed it. 

“But your shirt will stain, Mr Davensport!” She bounced back to her feet, which earned her a low sigh. 

Before she could think, she was bottoms up over his knee, glancing at the floor. He’d managed to sit in the chair she’d vacated and topple her over in a breath. The shock of it froze her still. 

It was his tossing her dress up her back that finally sent her squirming. She squealed and kicked only to find her legs pinned by one of his and an arm across her waist holding her to his knees. Her bottom was bare beneath her dress so her rosebud and quim were on display. She squeezed her cheeks in a futile attempt to hide. 

“Clara, it’s apparent you don’t know how to stop and enjoy your day so I’m forced to assist you.” 

And with that, his hand landed with a solid smack against her bottom. The sting followed and with it her renewed wiggling. It did nothing to deter him from continuing to spank her in earnest. 

“Mr. Davensport!” 

“Travis,” he replied as cool as ever, his hand blazing a path across her skin. 

She gasped as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “Mr… Travis. I apologize whatever it is I’ve done.” 

“Silly girl.” He sounded jovial as he swatted her harder. “You’re far too tense and it’s preventing you from letting go.” 

She blinked hard against the tears blurring her eye, the pain morphing into something that made her teeter on the edge of bursting from her skin. She held it together until his hand landed hard on the spot where her puss peeped from between her thighs. Rearing up like a frightened horse, the tears exploded from her with a wretched sob. She fell back down limp across his lap as everything in her flowed out. 

His hands finally slowed, tapping lightly along her sore bum as she sobbed. “That’s it, Clara girl, that’s it. Get it all out. Let Travis have it all.” 

Her sobbed turned to sniffles as he caressed her back. When she was finally quiet, he lifted her so she sat cradled in his lap. She hissed, but put up no fight as he settled her against him. There was no ignoring the wetness that made her quim slippery between her thighs, but she tried. 

“See?” He whispered into her hair. “Much better. Now let me service you.” 

“Mr. Davens… I mean, Travis. I’m fine with tea and scones.” Her words barely rose above a whisper. 

“Ssh, Clara girl.” His hand rubbed her knee before slipping up under her dress. “You need a little more than that.” 

#boobday Watch Me Whip

Not sure if the lovely Hy will have a Boobday post, but I’m feeling frisky so you get one from me anyway. 

I’ve been in such a weird place mentally and emotionally lately. It would do me good to have a good flogging and then some even better sex. Alas, neither is happening. A girl can fantasize though

image

That flogger would look better smacking my ass rather than stretching across my breasts. Much much better.

Flash 9 

A continuation of sorts  

670 words

“You are lovely, Honey.”

He murmured his appreciation and enjoyed the way she shivered as he caressed her flank. Her pussy peeped from between her thighs in the most enticing way and her full ass tipped up just inviting him to sink his teeth in.

This was meant to be pure punishment, he reminded himself that. But watching her wiggle had his cock pressing hard to the zipper of his jeans.

He tried to remember his anger. God, it ate him up that she didn’t come to him when she made mistakes. It hurt if he was honest. She had gotten better and he knew her past played a role, but it didn’t stop the hurt from bubbling up from her lack of trust in him. Coming to him, asking for help, admitting she needed him were important to him.

“How many?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her brown eyes the color of chocolate, wide with uncertainty and desire. There was no way she knew how sexy she was displayed over the couch. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and he bit back a groan. Holding on to his stern expression, he waited for her to answer.

“Um… Ten?”

He simply began unhooking his belt and kept his gaze steady on her. One eyebrow lifted as he waited to see how many more she’d ask to receive.

She twitched, her bottom swaying as she tried not to move too much. Indecision warred on her face and he’d give anything to hear her thoughts, but waited patiently instead. When she turned back around and held still for him he felt his heart warm.

“As many as you think I need, Daddy. I trust you… I trust you to discipline me how I need it most.”

The husky tone of her voice affected him deeply, quelling what remained of his anger. Her cheek pressed into the cushion of the couch, her eyes closed and face relaxed. Her total submission was written in the lines of her body.

“That’s my Honey girl,” he whispered.

He warmed her up with his hand, alternating strokes on each cheek until he could feel heat rising from her skin. She remained silent except for the occasional hitch in her breath when he brought his hand down on a spot over and over.

“Such a good girl, Honey.” He stepped behind her to grip a cheek. “Now I want you to take the belt without moving.”

He didn’t give her any time to prep before he laid the first stripe across her ass. A red mark bloomed and he nearly dropped the belt and took her then. He checked his need and resumed the spanking, just tempering his strength.

Her whimpers filled the room, adding to the chorus of the belt impacting her flesh. It was a glorious sound that eased his tension.

When her ass looked bright red and her attempts to remain still were proving too much, he dropped the belt to the ground. He quickly shucked his jeans and underwear and buried himself deep inside her. Her body, wet and tight, welcomed him like an old friend.

It was a long moment before he could even speak. “I love you, Honey. I discipline you because I love you and to remind you to always to come to me. I want to keep you safe and I can’t do that if you lie.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I’m sorry.” Her breathy voice was full of so many emotions. “I love you, too.”

He pulled out and thrust back in, loving the heat of her bottom against him and the pleasure/pain in her gasp. She spasmed around him and he groaned.

“No coming, baby. This is for Daddy’s pleasure, understand?” He thrust again, needing to spill so bad but wanting to finish her lesson.

“I won’t,” she cried, her back arched. “I promise to be good.”

He grunted to acknowledge her obedience and then lost himself in her beautiful body. His sweet Honey girl.

Razor edge

I always believed being uninhibited would lead me down paths I’d never return from. That exploring passion was a dangerous thing. That religious upbringing that takes an unhealthy turn at pointsI get unbalanced so easily and I need black and white explanations to keep that balance.

Life isn’t so clear cut, I quickly learned. Passion isn’t as dangerous as I once thought, and there’s something unbelievably satisfying about finding a level of pleasure in something.

I talk about spanking a lot. The way it’s a sexual experience, adding clarity without the emotional upheaval of sex. I typically don’t mix the two not wanting to ruin the pleasure of being spanked by tossing sex into the mix. I need my balance, if that makes sense.

But spanking causes a physical reaction. The pain transforms and turns into this ache that I need to satisfy. I want a cock in my pussy right that second because I am pliable and want to be moulded more, desperately.

I like to deny myself though.

Moments after, my ass throbs with a fierce heat. Moving is a pain and I welcome the touch of fingers on my bruised spots to soothe and intensify the pain. As I sit, minutes, hours, days after the heat focuses like a fire between my thighs. My forced denial seems to coalesce deep in my gut in an unbelievable way.

I find myself almost desperate. I can’t have clothes on and my hand can’t stop alternating between caressing the sore spots on my butt and caressing the wet lips of my cunt. 

I am liquid and I need to cum.

The sheets against me are agonizing pleasure, but I lie on my back anyway. I gasp from the pain, the pleasure, and my need to have them simultaneously. My need to have something between my thighs giving me relief.

My fingers circle my clit, coaxing more wetness from me. If I were less impatient, I’d draw it out with just the two fingers on that spot.

I’m. Not. Patient.

The waiting reaches a boiling point and I need to quick satisfaction only my hitachi will give me. My pink vibrator slips between my wet lips and the buzz of the hitachi makes me bite my lip.

It’s fast but perfect. The thrust of that dildo, my sore bottom on the sheets, my mind wandering to the hand that makes my mind blank so well… Perfect

I’m groaning my pleasure to the room as I release all that pent-up energy. I feel balanced once more. 

I’m using MM as some form of cathartic writing therapy apparently. Check out the other options, will you?

Nice and easy

She drapes herself over his lap, adjusting so her bottom points up the way he likes.

A hand grips the back of her neck to press her lower until she’s tipped nearly all the way over. She pressed her cheek to the floor, her feet spreading to brace as she grasps his calf.

The way his hand holds her down while the other caresses the skin around her waist. It traces down her spine and back up along the globe of her ass. Down her thigh, tickling her skin and raising goosebumps.

“Have you been good, Cara?”

She trembles at his question, the words spoken softly hold a wealth of command. She answers because he expects it.

“Always, Sir.”

The crack of his along the left cheek pulled a cry of surprise from her. A trickle of wetness slips from her body and his fingers found it unerringly.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

She presses her forehead to the floor and swallows as he thrusts slowly into her body. The need for more has her hips wiggling in seconds. It only invites another hard smack on the other cheek.

“I was bad,” she gasps out. “I didn’t do the chores you asked me to.”

Another delicious smack

“Then I guess I’ll have to give you a harder beating than I’d already planned.”

Her eyes close in pleasure at the coming pain.

“Thank you, sir.”

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