Picture is of Eye lying on a bed. used for story- I want to spank you

I want to spank you

“I want to spank you.”

Giggling, she collapsed onto the bed.

“I am serious,” he said, watching her from his chair across the room.

She felt her face flush slightly as a wave of heat seemed to crawl upwards from her feet, snaking its way up her body.  His words sat in the silence and danced. Was he serious? She didn’t know him well enough to tell. Surely not? This wasn’t the sort of thing people did was it? I mean, she had read about stuff like this before but not ever thought about it happening or what it would feel like. She imagined his hand on her skin and the way that would feel. It had been so long that she felt caught off guard by even the thought of being with someone, never mind doing something like that.

He had been sat back in the chair, but he moved forward a little now, keeping his eyes on her. He tapped his knees twice with the palm of one hand, eyebrows raised.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I want to.  And because I think you need it,” he added.

She got up from the bed then and moved across the room to stand beside him. She giggled again, her body twisting slightly from the awkwardness of the situation, and she took a swig from her glass. She looked directly at him as she swallowed, dutch courage momentarily shifting the balance. In one swift movement he lifted the glass from her hand, set it on the table beside him and then changed the direction back to his favour as he lifted her skirt and gave her a sharp slap on her bottom.

Humiliation and indignation flooded her instantly but there was something else there too. She felt horrified that she wanted this, at the same time as feeling desperate for it to continue. And the fact that he had been right. It made her feel so small, so uncertain, and yet it filled her with a need to slip even further into herself. Her heart raced and her clit twitched as she thought about where this was going. She wanted to assert herself. To question or to tease, to claw back some of whatever it was that she had just lost, but his win was somehow final.

“Now! Over my knee,” he instructed.

Clumsily she arranged herself across his legs, head hanging down and her bottom upturned towards him. She noticed his breathing change slightly, although he said nothing. She felt his hand stroke the skin in circular motions that seemed to acquire a sort of rhythm and pattern. She was embarrassed at how much she liked it and wanted to protest. She wanted to stop him and become herself again but she was becoming lost. She was softening, growing pliable. She was starting to feel that his hand on her skin was part of her, and she was beginning to drift.

He pulled her back to reality quickly as his voice, softly in her ear, told her to reach around and pull her knickers down for him. There was a split second of disbelief. Was this really happening? She felt mortified at the instruction. and even more so at the realisation that she was going to do as he asked. But she did it anyway. She wanted this. She needed this. He had been right all along. And with that acceptance, a little of her came back. It was a new feeling. As if a little slice of strength and fire sat in the centre of the mess of confusing and conflicting emotions she had become, and pushed outwards from within her.

He tapped the inside of each thigh.

“Legs apart please!”

Again, that feeling as he made her part of this. She had not anticipated it would feel this way, that she would become part of it in this way. He made her complicit. He made it her choice. And as she shuffled her legs further apart, she felt the air hit the wetness between her legs that gave him further acknowledgement of her desire and her thirst for him. That should have been enough but, again, he caught her off-guard by taking her one step further.

“Would you like me to spank you?” he asked.

She sort of squeaked.

“I will need to hear you say it properly.  I require more than a mere squeak of agreement if you want me to do this to you,” he said confidently.

He knew. And she knew that he knew. The shift in balance was complete now, and she fell even deeper, becoming lost in the thrill and the disbelief.

“Yes please.

Please.

Yes.

I … I would like you to spank me.”

 

The featured image is courtesy of Eye from Cleared Eyed Girl and is used with permission.

Masturbation Monday

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Posted in Fiction, Projects.

20 Comments

    • Perhaps I should try a gender reversal. I am not sure how I would do though. I am glad that you liked it and thank you 😊

  1. I fantasize about this type of scenario but haven’t had it happen. I am certain i would feel much like her, wet and awkward. Funny how in childhood we hated spankings in adulthood that thought can shift dramatically..

    • I totally agree. There is a huge difference between a punishment spanking and erotic spanking too. Thank you for commenting 🙂

    • Thanks May. It was fun to write about and initially I had thought to write about the actual spanking but somehow the build up became the focus 😊

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