Even tho Mr G is away, I've still managed to get myself in trouble, for arguing yet again, not doing as I was told yet again and arguing/discussing I called it my punishment for arguing.
All because we were discussing buying a bit gag, and I found a pretty pink one, very cheap on Amazon. As it was from China it would take weeks to arrive.
But i ordered it as we texted each other.
This led on to me arguing about buying it, then I was instructed to write him a story.
I was being deliberately awkward asking if he wanted me to write it on WhatsApp oorin my notebook.
In the end he phoned me, telling me I wouldn't act this way if he was at home.
I've now been awarded with 200 lines, plus continuing with the story.
I took some pics of how my mouth pulls faces he doesn't like.
I'm 18 and I feel like I'm probably the youngest person on this site aha. But anyway I'm looking to get more involved in the spanking fetish community in my area but I'm not exactly sure how to do that so if anyone has any advice please message me :)
I don't own anyone any explaination for what I say n do......... n I'm not lookin for pity or makin any excuses for myself.. when I'm an asshole ill own up to it.......n yes I know its quite often...but yes I have ALOT goin on in my life.... I'm not goin to disclose the biggest issue here because I just cant.. all I'm gonna say about that is its been goin on for over a yr now..... its a life or death situation ... people r in danger.. ive never felt more helpless in my life n what is goin on is on my mind so much that I swear I'm gonna totally lose it...add to that just normal every day life the cat, my partner, my job, n yes even the internet at times just gets to be a lil too much ... I don't have anyone to talk to.....not really talk to...I have my kids of course but I'm THE MOM... I'm the one that THEY have to be able to come to... I'm the one that they can depend on so I cant fall apart with them.....I have to make sure I remain strong n be their leanin post....this issue has effected us all n I pray every day.. many times a day for a solution.. a happy endin...... but I'm at that point where I don't see that happenin....... so yeah sometimes I'm funny , sometimes I'm a nag... sometimes I'm silly.. n sometimes I'm just a plain ass... bear with me , it may not get any better................
"Oooooooooooh ....... Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ....... Yummmmmmmmm ........." 18 year old Connie cooed and moaned, sunk deep in the straw pile in the shadows at the back of the barn. Beside her, cast carelessly on the dirt floor lay her skimpy cutoffs and halter top, her bra and panties. For Connie, breathless, had what she'd always desired: a real cowboy. Billy Bob was atop her, their bare, sweaty flesh squirming in a steaming frenzy of teenage love and lust, Connie's deep, wet itch being scratched as only a boy can do. The two teens' mounting passion built towards its climax and suddenly, deliciously, Connie felt as if the sun had exploded inside her. Her blonde hair splayed out on the hay, she threw her head back and shreiked, a high, girlish wail of desire fulfilled as the burning friction scorched like the fire of hell and transported her to the cloudy zenith of heaven. Billy Bob groaned, his tight, hard ass pounding up and down like a jackhammer as an explosion of lava erupted, making him grit his teeth and pant furiously as his body shook with more pleasure than he thought he could endure.
Perspiring, gasping and supremely sated, the two young lovers fell limply onto the soft straw, wordlessly basking in the afterglow of passion and cooling down. Since daddy had hired Billy Bob earlier in the summer, Connie had learned what it truly meant to be a woman. Yes, she'd had boyfriends, young local men she'd dated in high school, but none had ever come close to lifting her up to the screaming transports of raw sexual joy as did "Her Cowboy." Those guys were just kids, but Billy Bob was a real man, and one who knew how to make her feel like a real woman. Connie smiled and nuzzled her lover, resting her head on his broad, muscular shoulder. As the sunbaked Texas afternoon dawdled on, they drifted off to sleep.
"WHAT THE HELL ??????" Connie awoke with a start and Billy Bob sat bolt upright. Glaring down at them, his face like a stormy night, stood Connie's Daddy. "Daddy!" Connie exclaimed, trying desperately to grab her discarded clothes, her mind whirling in a thousand directions and now terrified. "BE QUIET, LITTLE GIRL" Daddy roared, dragging his naked, blushing daughter to her feet and grabbing her arm like a iron vice. "YOU, BOY, you PACK YOUR THINGS and GET OFF MY PROPERTY RIGHT DAMN NOW, YOU HEAR ME YOU WHITE TRASH PECKERWOOD ?" Billy Bob, more concerned with saving his own hide than coming to the aid of his lover, scrambled up, grabbed his jeans, boots and shirt, and beat a fast retreat from the barn and the older man's wrath. Billy Bob knew Connies daddy was a real redneck, one who'd stop at nothing to defend his old fashioned notions of a daughter's honor. "Nope, the best thing to do is grab my stuff and hit the highway for Oklahoma," he thought. Raising dust in his battered F150 he took one last glance back at the barn and wondered how Connie would try to explain things to her dad.
Before the sound of Billy Bob's truck faded down the county road, Daddy stood glowering furiously at his youngest girl. "Did your mother and me raise you to be a slut? he demanded. "Well ?" His strong arms folded, he stood awaiting an answer. "N ..no, daddy ...." Connie stammered. "I....I'm sorry ..." "SORRY MY ASS !!!" Daddy roared. You're sorry you got CAUGHT, but you're not sorry you rolled in the hay with the damned hired help. Well, Missy, you're going to be a good bit sorrier, y'all can be sure of that !" Connie tried to back away, wishing only she could get her cutoffs and top back on, and feeling helpless and hopelessly exposed. Despite the blazing heat of the August afternoon she felt a chill. "Mom and me raised you to be a Christian" Daddy continued. Daddy was a lay deacon in the Baptist Church and Connie had accepted the lord and been baptized when she was 14. "What would Pastor Edwards think if he knew about this ? What would your mother think?" Connie was silent, shamed beyond any words of defense. She was a young woman with all the gnawing desires of young womanhood, and she had succumbed to temptation. Succumbed, and been caught. She knew what the Bible taught about sin, and she also knew what it had to say about parental correction of the young. Lord knows, Pastor Edward returned to this theme from the pulpit on many a Sunday. The minister was known as a strict disciplinarian in his own house, and it was rumored even his pretty, 30ish wife Anne was not immune to an occasional trip across her husband's knee.
Now, in the silence of the sweltering barn, Connie heard the sound she dreaded most: the metallic clink of Daddy's belt buckle and the whooshing sound it made and he quickly pulled it out of the belt loops on his work pants. She looked up, imploringly, but what she saw was a look of grim determination on Daddy's face and the brown leather belt, doubled over and hanging in his right hand like a rattler poised to strike. It happened in a heartbeat. Connie's dad, a large, well built man toughened by years of outdoor work, grasped his 120 pound daughter and forced her gently but firmly down on the very hay bales where only a short while before she and Billy Bob had squirmed and kicked, enjoying each others young, well toned bodies. "DADDDDYYYYYYYYY !!!!!!" the girl wailed, hoping somehow to avert her well earned chastisement. "I'M 18 ! PLEASE DON'T !" Daddy said nothing, but swung the heavy leather belt over his right shoulder. Connie tensed, trying to ready herself for what he hadn't experienced in over a year. The sweat trickled down her face and she sobbed in shame and self pity. The belt whooshed down ........
CRACK !!!!!!!! Connie screamed, this time not in ecstacy but in agony. The tough leather bit into the girl's soft ass and stung as if she'd been bitten by a scorpion. WHACK ! SMACK ! THWACK ! Over and over the rawhide belt impacted the teen's quiverring, reddening cheeks as she twisted, cried and wailed out her pain and humiliation. "DADDDDDDYYYYYYY PLEASE ..... PLEASE ! I WON'T DO IT ANYMORE ........ !!!!!!" But Daddy was relentless. As the father of three daughters, he knew only too well that a girl will promise anything to stop a sound spanking once it has started. And, though Connie's cries hurt his heart, he knew where his fatherly duty lay and raised the belt again .... WHACK !!!! CRACK !!!!! THWACK !!!!!! Across Connie's ass cheeks the belt burned angry red weals, and then seared across the backs of her legs as she howled. A gush of salty tears streamed down her face and her entire backside scorched as if she'd sat down on a hot stove. "I'M SORRRRYYYYYY !!!!!!!" Her cries startled some robins in the apple tree outside, and they took off in a flock, seeming to follow Billy Bob down the road. Then, at last, the punishing agony ended.
Connie, shaken by the pain and nearly hoarse from crying, was allowed to stand. "Get dressed" Daddy told her. "I won't tell mom what happened today, but you had BETTER NOT EVER do this again, you understand ?" The meaning of her dad's words were clear: lovemaking belonged in marriage and not in a sordid trist between two kids in the haypile. Connie nodded. Daddy refastened his belt and looked into his daughter's eyes. "I'm sorry I had to do this, honey" he told her, "But sometimes the 'Rod of Correction' is needed even at your age." Connie, hurriedly pulling on her cutoffs, was afraid she'd burst out crying again if she tried to speak, so remained quiet. "Y'all can get to your chores later" Daddy continued, knowing that some of Connie's friends were coming over that afternoon. And with that, he turned and went back to the house, closing the screen door quietly behind him.
Connie was walking across the soft, sunwarmed grass behind the house when a cardoor out front let her know Tara, Christy and Denise had arrived. Similarly attired in shorts or cutoffs with halters or T tops, Connie's three high school friends appeared from beside the house, one carrying a 12 pack of Pepsi. As they fell into conversation, the three other girls immediately sensed something was wrong, and Connie blurted out the truth. "Oh my GAWD!" Tara gasped, feeling a sympathetic twang of pain at hearing of Connie's belt whuppin' only minutes before. Tara, Christy and Denise all knew the feeling on their own daddies' belts on their curvy young rumps, and all four girls had also felt the sting of the paddle in school. Their own chastisements, and those of friends and enemies, were now and again the topic of discussion between them, and the whole subject of spankin' 17 or 18 year olds seemed kind of funny ... just so long as THEY weren't the 17 or 18 year olds being spanked. Be that as it may, however, the girls had grown up in a small rural town in east Texas where sore fannies at home and school were just a part of life that had to be accepted.
"Come on" Christy said, "Let's go on up to your room and hang out, watch CMT." The four girls padded upstairs and Connie sat down gingerly on her bed, moving her stuffed teddy bear to one side. Tara went into the bathroom and returned moments later with a bottle of aloe vera cream. "Roll over" she told Connie, who, understanding what her friend was about to do, rolled on her tummy and hiked down her cutoffs and frilly panties, revealing two bright red butt cheeks. Denise whistled. "Ohhhh, man" Christy said, "Girl, that's GOTTA hurt !" The three felt genuinely sorry for their friend. Taking a bit of lotion on her palm, Tara gently massaged Connie's fanny, slowly rubbing away some of the heat and lingering sting. One final, small tear dribbled from her eye, but Tara's hand felt so good and soothing, and she felt comforted and good having her three gal pals with her right now: they all knew what this was like, too, and being real friends were glad to help her through it.
Connie's backside hurt less when she pulled up her cutoffs and then sat on the edge of the bed. Gretchen What's-Her-Name was belting out "Redneck Girls Like Me" on the TV when Christy smiled and reached for her backpack. "Um, ladies?" Christy giggled, "I got somethin' here to go with that Pepsi and I'll bet it'll help Connie feel better, too!" Christy drew out a pint bottle of Jack Daniels. "WOW" Denise squealed, "Where the heck did ya get THAT ?" Christy laughed. "I found the key to my dad's liquor cabinet... he'll never miss it !" Cautiously, giggly, enjoying their forbidden fruits and ever so careful not to let Connie's mom or dad discover their partaking of adult beverages, the four teens had a fun couple of hours. Tara suggested that weekend they drive on into Foat Wuth cuz she knew of a big party going on Saturday night. Connie seconded that and, forgetting the now fading sting in her nether regions, said "Hell yea ! Maybe we'll meet some real cowboys !!!"
I thought I would try some photos of me wearing my Basque, I love the colour purple.
Both Barb and Nicole had been at their desks, heads down, waiting to go to the principal's office at 2:00 O'Clock to see Mr. Erickson when Mrs. Woolsley arrived to escort them down. She was a tall woman in her early thirties, pretty in a severe sort of way except when she smiled.
Today she wasn't smiling.
"Come with me" she said, leading them to the Girls' Washroom. Once inside, she told them both to pull down their cutoffs. Puzzled, they obeyed. After a quick inspection she told them to pull their pants back up. "Some girls get hold of an extra pair of panties or two and put them on so the paddle won't hurt quite as much," she explained as they accompanied her downstairs to Mr. Erickson's office.
At that point Nicole began to sob.
"There's no use crying now," Mrs. Woolsley said sharply. "In a few minutes Mr. Erickson is going to give you something worth crying about with the paddle!"
Nicole sniffed and rubbed her eyes.
Nicole had gone in first because she hadn't cut class, which meant that she was only going to get five licks. Barb waited outside on the hard wooden bench under the portrait of Governor Wendell Anderson. Millie, Mr. Erickson's secretary, glanced over at her and gave her a superior little smirk.
Millie was in her early twenties and was pretty in a cheap sort of way. Now married, she had been a student at Gopher Prairie High School and had come back to work for Mr. Erickson. She was known throughout the campus for her short, tight skirts and it was rumored that she still made out with some of the Senior boys.
Mr. Erickson's door was closed but she could hear muffled voices from behind it. Unable to make out what was being said, she could tell that Nicole had started crying again.
"Do you have to pee?" Millie asked suddenly. Barb looked up, surprised, and then shook her head "no." "Cause when you get that first lick you'll wet your panties for sure if you do," Millie said.
"It's all right," Barb said quietly.
"I got corporal punishment like three times when I was here, so I know," Millie confided.
"Did.....did it hurt?" Barb asked with uncertainty, feeling her knees begin to tremble.
"Like sittin' on a hot stove," Millie answered. "My mom used to give me the switch all the time but that was nothin' compared to the paddle when Mr. Erickson spanks you."
All at once there was a sharp, smacking sound from behind the door and Barb heard Nicole cry out, then sob:
"One....thank you, sir!"
It had been nearly three months ago and Barb had stayed after school to help her pretty, dark haired Home Room teacher, Ms. Bakke, clean up after art class. When they were finished, Barb had to go to the Girls' Washroom before heading home. It was nearly 4:00 and she had a lot of homework, so she hurried down the hall and entered the bathroom rather quickly.
She'd been astonished to find Kimberly Olson, a beautiful blonde girl, standing with her back to the large wall mirrior, her jeans and panties in a muddle at her feet, glancing over her shoulder at her bare bottom, which was completely red and appeared slightly swollen in places. Kimberly had tears running down her face. When she saw Barb she quickly pulled up her jeans and panties.
"I....I thought everyone had gone home..."
"What HAPPENED to you ??"
"I got paddled by Mr. Erickson. For smoking."
"Oh my god !! How many did you get ?"
"Five," Kimberly had said, beginning to cry again.
"Did they hurt ?"
"Jesus Christ, " Kimberly had sobbed. "They hurt like crazy. I'm not gonna be able to sit down in class tomorrow."
"I'm sorry", Barb had said. "I really am."
"Just don't tell anybody," Kimberly begged. "I don't want everybody to know that I got a spankin'."
"I won't say a word," Barb had promised. "Thanks," Kimberly had said. " I gotta go." Obviously embarrassed, Kimberly had left quickly. The rest of the afternoon Barb hadn't been able to get the memory of Kimberly's red, sore bottom out of her mind.
"You'd better get yourself ready," Millie whispered urgently. "They're almost through with your friend."
THWACK! came the sound from inside Mr. Erickson's office. Nicole howled and then managed to sob: "F-five....Th-thank you, sir!"
"I sure don't envy you," Millie said in a low, conspiratorial voice, "gettin' ten."
Just then the door marked Principal Oscar Erickson opened and Nicole hurried out, her face red and wet with tears. She was rubbing her bottom through the material of her cutoff jeans with one hand and wiping her face with the other. She glanced at Barb and then left the outer office.
Mrs. Woolsley stood in the open doorway. "Come in please, Barbara."
Feeling scared and queasy, Barb stood up. Her knees were weak and she knew her hands would tremble if she didn't keep them at her side.
She walked inside the Principal's office. Ms. Bakke, her home room teacher, sat on Mr. Erickson's leather couch. She seemed sorry for Barb and looked like she didn't want to be there. Mr. Erickson stood by his desk. He had taken his jacket off and his right shirtsleeve was rolled partway up his forearm.
On his desk lay the wooden school paddle which wasn't as big as she had imagined it. Made of pine, it was perhaps 18" in length and had black electrician's tape wrapped around the handle.
"You and Nicole left campus during school hours without permission," Mrs. Woolsley said disapprovingly. "Nicole had a free period but you cut class, young lady, which doubles the seriousness of your offense. Just the fact that this happens to be summer school doesn't mean that the normal rules are relaxed, you must have understood that!"
"Barb," Mr. Erickson said patiently. "You don't know how much I dislike having to administer this kind of discipline, but you broke two very important school rules and District policy is clear about what your punishment has to be."
Barb felt herself blushing furiously. She started at the carpet, not daring to look at the handsome,40ish principal who had always been her friend and confidant.
"Five licks with the paddle for leaving campus....and five more for ditching class. I'm sorry this has to be done, but its for your own good because we care about you. And the sooner we get started, the sooner it'll be over with," Mr. Erickson continued.
"Each time Mr. Erickson gives you a spank with the paddle," Ms. Bakke said quietly, "You'll have to count out the lick and then say 'thank you, sir.' That's all part of your discipline. Do you understand?"
"Y...yes, ma'am, " Barb said, feeling tears beginning to form in her throat.
"Mrs. Woolsley and Ms. Bakke are here to act as witnesses, " Mr. Erickson explained. "Minnesota state policy requires that whenever a student is spanked two witnesses must be present."
"Yes, sir," Barb answered, still staring at the carpet, flushed. She wished he would start and get it over with before she burst into tears.
"All right, young lady, bend over and grab your ankles, " Mr. Erickson said, picking up the paddle.
Barb turned around and assumed the position, hands clutching her ankles, her bottom up in the air.
"Ready?" Mr. Erickson asked.
"I...I guess so" Barb replied, closing her eyes and clenching her teeth. She wondered if Millie was listening and secretly laughing at her predicament.
Owwwwwwww Barb gasped involuntarily, then: "One. Thank you, sir."
The paddle had cut across her bottom like fire. She felt the hot, salty tears begin to well up in her eyes.
She caught her breath. "Two, thank you, sir," she managed to blurt
"Three, thank you, sir, " Barb cried, openly sobbing now.
"Four, thank you, sir, " she said, barely able to get the words out. How could she endure six more ? Her slightly plump bottom was raw and hot and sore. It felt like the skin of her cheeks was sticking to the thin, worn denim of her cutoffs.
"Five. Oh, it hurts.... OWowwww.....Thank you, sir, "
"Six.....Th-thank you, sir..."
She thought about begging him to stop, but she knew in her heart that it would do no good.
The wooden paddle smacked into Barb's quivering bottom with the sound and the sensation of a 4th of July firecracker exploding.
"Seven," she sobbed, "Ooooooooo, it stings... so much
...thank...you, sir. "
"Eight, " Barb moaned, her face wet with tears, her fingers pressing into the skin of her bare ankles. Her entire being seemed to be centered on her searing, tender bottom. "Th-thank you, s-sir."
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......" the girl gasped, fighting the urge to stand up and clutch her bottom.
"N- n- nine. Thank y-you... sir."
God! Just one more. She wondered if she had wet her panties.
"YEOWWCH!!" Barb yelped before stammering out "T-ten, thank you, sir. "
Somehow she had made it through her paddling.
"Okay, Barb, you can stand up now, " Mr. Erickson said.
Barb stood up and cupped the cheeks of her bottom, throbbing and red hot even through the denim.
Mr. Erickson had laid his paddle back down on his desk and was rebuttoning his shirtsleeve.
"Would you like a tissue? " Ms. Bakke asked sympathetically. She shook her head, raising one hand to her face to wipe away a tear. She knew she wouldn't be able to sit down and was almost looking forward to the ten minute walk home, glad that she hadn't driven
to school this morning.
"I hope this has taught you a good lesson, Barb, " Mr. Erickson said, not unkindly.
"Yes, sir, it sure has," Barb replied ruefully, continuing to massage her aching bottom.
"I'll be calling your mom about this, "Mr. Erickson told her.
"Do...do you....have to? " Barb asked, crying.
"Yes, I'm afraid so, "he said.
"Can...can I go home now, please?" Barb asked.
"Yes," Mr. Erickson told her. "Of course, you still have one hundred minutes of detention to serve. You can start that tomorrow."
"Yes, sir, " Barb said.
"And, Barb ? I hope that I never have to use this paddle on you ever again, " Mr. Erickson told her, a warning note in his voice.
"No, sir," Barb answered, choking back more tears.
She said goodbye to the three of them then crossed back through the outer office, not looking at Millie who busied herself typing.
She went to her locker, got her books, and started towards home wondering how she would explain what happened to her mom and dad.
Once outside, the girl slipped off her sandals and thought to herself how nice the sun warmed pavement and tickly, dry grass felt in contrast to the red hot soreness still making her buttocks throb.
She knew that the first thing she would do when she got home would be to lock herself in the bathroom, take down her cutoffs and panties and see just how red her bottom really was.
As Barb sobbed softly into her pillow late, late that wet and thundering night, her right hand gave her solace. One particular nether region seemed to cry out for more solace as she concentrated on the fading sting of her paddling and remembered Kimberly Olson's red bottom.
I love wearing bodytights! Especially for punishment spankings! I just bought some new bodytights and I tried on my new tan bodytights and I loved the look and feel of it! I had to tell my spanker that I needed a spanking in my new tan bodytights right away! I was able to get a nice hard spanking! I hope you will all enjoy seeing me getting my spanking in tan bodytights! When I put them on they looked so good and felt so amazing that I wanted to get a hard spanking immediately! I really like my new tan bodytights! I also got pink, beige, and a new black one also!
Amor Omnia Vincit
~ er ~
Mummsy Wummsy Thumps Sugarlump!
(Note: certain names were changed t' protect th' guilty)
Svenskarnas Dag, Dean wuz fifteen,
th' farm beheld this raucous scene:
Dean's big sis Jill, betrothed t' Jack,
ignored her chores an' sassed Mom back.
Jill, feelin' lazy, waxed quite rude
an' showed one saucy attitude.
Jill licked a chocolate ice cream treat,
in Wranglers, NASCAR tee, bare feet.
Mom scolded, "Girl, hop t' it now!"
Yet Jill, with giggle an' arched brow,
quipped: "Damn it, Mom, don't nag at me!
I'm all grown up. Hell, I ain't three!"
'Twas then Jill learnt, eighteen er no,
that, yep, athwart Mom's knee she'd go!
('round here folks said, this twernt no fun,
"Yer Just-A-Kid 'til Twenty One.")
Jill yelped an' tossed her rich waves brown
as Mom yanked jeans an' panties down,
an' deftly answered Jill's wisecracks
with that danged hairbrush: ten good *SMACKS!*
Dean didn't pause t' ponder why
sweet Sis would squirm, kick, squeal an' cry,
'cause Mom's thick antique maple brush
betimes had made his young tush blush!
Jill wiped away a salty tear,
leapt up an' rubbed scorched chubby rear.
Ya see what spankin's all about
in wet blue eyes an' blushin' pout.
T' make stuff worse Mom, ornery, said:
"Go brush yer teeth an' GIT t' bed!"
an' *SNAPPED!* her fingers. So, that's why
one steamin' evenin' 'fore July,
denied her supper, Jill would lie
abed unfed an' roast in heat
from scaldin' Sol an' red beet seat!
Next mornin', when Jill told Jack that,
Jack laughed, "Dear heart, don't play th' brat!"
Jill so felt th' naughty daughter,
shamed an' shocked by what sass brought her.
Tho she did not know it yet,
that "Time o' Month" she'd truly get
a greater shock. Like all her kin,
Jill's Christian, too. She's Born Again!
Whilst Scripture chides us ne'er t' sin,
'pon th' haypile unwed lovin'
left a wee bun in Jill's oven!
Jill's rump's plump, yet nine months later?
Tummy's round like some boiled tater!
Mom's love caused Jill's chastened rump,
an' Jack's love caused Jill's Belly Bump!
Yo, kids? That happens when ya'll hump,
an' bed springs squeak an' headboards thump!
Ya know Faith Lutheran, Gopher Prairie?
'Twas th' spot them two would marry.
Pastor Jenson called th' Banns
in Sunday's hot air, stirred by fans,
unitin' them two redneck clans
as both kids glowed with joyous plans.
Our lovers in a fortnight wed,
an' I applaud th' life they've led.
Near four years on, th' ol' homestead's
still home t' two like newlyweds!
After almost what seemed like hours, the sound of the front door slamming, and what sounded like three voices, startled the young man out of his sorrowful consideration of his situation. Not being even able to yell, from the gag in his mouth, he nervously waited, hoping that the mailman would NOT come into the room. A moment later, those hopes were dashed, as the door opened in the mirror. Three heads looked in, and the two men, one of whom was a stranger, and a woman with spiky hair, startled him, with what looked like overeager leers at his bottom. They all smiled, and the woman started to laugh. She said to the men. "Let me have him first. I don't want his bottom spoiled for me". The two men left, chuckling to themselves. The woman, dressed in leather that looked real, and dark black, walked into the room, and placed her hand, with long red nails on his bottom.
Smiling, she leaned over to his ear, and said smoothly "Do you know that I do with nice young meat like yours?". Shaking his head, he could only struggle against the bonds. As he watched, she placed her gym bag on the floor, and heard the zipper slide slowly open. As his eyes grew large, he saw a long, black rubber dildo, on a harness, placed on the table. And then, a long whippy tawse came out next. As he watched, she smilingly placed the harness around her hips, and made it fast and tight. Watching her walk around him, the black dildo bobbed menacingly, and she reached into her bag, and brought out a tube of lube. As she watched his arching eyes go wider, she applied the lube all along what looked to be almost a foot of rubber. Now realizing what would happen, he shook violently in his ties, which only made her laugh.
Fetching her tawse, she walked around his face, and rubbed the tip of the dildo in his face, and reached over, and lashed his bottom, right in the middle, with the tawse. As his eyes filled with tears from the pain, his nose felt the hard rubber pressing against his mouth. He kept it closed.
She laughed. "O.K. don't want to make it slick?. Then we'll just get this over with". She walked right behind his bottom, and while leaning forward, pressing the knob up against his bottom, she started whipping his back. As his back screamed from the abuse, he felt the knob sink into the first ring of his bottom, and as he moaned and started to sob, she entered him with half of the dildo. Pressing harder, she forced each inch of that black rubber cock up his virgin ass, and moaned as she realized his ass was untouched. With a full thrust, she rammed it home, making his cheeks split wide open. With the tawse, as she withdrew the dildo on the backstroke, she would whip the tawse up and around his thighs. Reaching with the long leads, to his cock and balls, she started grinding her hips, making each powerful stroke count, and making a cross hatch of stripes on his upturned and thoroughly raped bottom.
As she humped and whipped his bottom, his mind went into a space where he never knew it could. His hips started pushing back against the nasty intrusion. Suddenly, as her moans started keening, he felt a further thrust inside of him, and his cock, started to spurt without his control. She laughed, and reached around and moved her spiked glove hand on his member, squeezing every last drop out. As she withdrew from his bottom, he almost collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
Standind behind him now, she raised the tawse, and counting them all out, laid 50 more lashes across his bottom, with the long strands catching his now gaping hole. As his mind went blank, his whole body raged with pain, and slowly, he sank into oblivion. His body was being ravaged, but his mind escaped.
The last thing he heard, consciously, was her voice. "Now you are ready for Big Tom, and Don". Her heard her derisive laughter as she went out the door. His bottom was a shambles, with his hole feeling like a truck had come down a wrong way street. The clock ticking on the wall made him dread another minute, but the door, slightly ajar, stayed in position.
This is a story that i wrote and am now republishing. 50/50 real and fantasy. Hope you enjoy it.
Based on 1st time event in L.A. @ age of 22.
When I opened the mail that afternoon, after returning from my engineer's job, I had no idea what might be instore for me. The unstamped, hand written envelope, said. Photo inside. Do not bend. I opened it. Inside was a photo of me, sunning in the back yard, idly caressing myself, lazily. I tore open the envelope, and a note dropped out. Picking it up gingerly, I read, with rising surprise this missive:
I see you can now be aware, that your back yard antics are captured in my telephoto lens. I have many more of these, and if you want them back, with the negatives, you will be at my house, tomorrow(Friday) night, at 8 pm sharp. We will negotiate a fair arrangement. I don't want money.
Don the Mailman
My mind raced. This was the smarmy guy that lived at the end of the cul de sac, just down the road. And, his upper deck had a good view of our backyard pool. At first, I thought, no biggie. I would go over there, and see what he had to say, and then maybe shove a hundred at him.
The rest of the week raced by. I almost forgot the appointment. But at 8 o'clock sharp, I knocked on his door. It opened promptly, and there was Don boy, in cutoffs. He smiled, handed me a beer, and said "Come On in". We can settle this like men, right?
So, I walked over to his table, and he had some cards spread out. Want to play five hands of poker, winner take all? He asked.
Sure, hiding my smirk, knowing how good I was at poker. We played four hands. Broke even, two and two. On the final hand, he looked at me hard, and said "This is for all the bananas. The photos and negs are yours, IF you win this hand". What I did not know is that when we switched to tequila and beers, is that my tolerance was not that good. So, after a few rounds of bluffing, calls, and raises, the die was cast.
I turned up Kings over tens. Don had a full house.
So, with a weird smile on his lips, he said.."You've been a good sport. Just go in the back room, behind that brown door, and the photos and negs are in an envelope right on my weight bench". I'll be here when you get back.
So, with no regard for anything, and a slight buzz on my head and face, I got up, walked to the back room, and sure enough, there they were. I leaned over, the bench, since the envelope had fallen on the floor on the other site. As I reached for the envelope, I heard a noise behind me.
Half turning, I saw Don smiling right behind me. His strong arms pinned me to the weight bench, as my legs kicked furiously. He just sat on my back, and took my hands, and pinned them behind my back, painfully forcing them up high. He leaned over, and said "Just calm down. You are going to get what you deserve."
My mind raced. What I deserve? What is that supposed to mean. While I was kicking and wriggling, under his weight, I felt his hands wrap a loose rope around my wrists. Quickly my hands were pulled over my head, and tied together to the hook on the wall over the weight bench. Turning quickly, he leaned over, and grabbing each of my ankles in turn, he tied each of them to the leg of the bench.
Stepping up, he looked at me, tied to the bench, and made a few adjustment. Then with my face down to the bench, his hands moved over my bottom. I started to protest, but as soon as my mouth opened, he shoved some of his briefs into my mouth, and tied it off with a rope. I struggled, but the ropes held me tight.
He leaned over to my ear. Patrique, today is the day you pay for your sins. I am going to whip your ass, and have you for my boy tonight. So, you might as well relax.
As I struggled with the ropes, I heard a laugh behind me. Don pushed his hand up under my waist, and with a quick twist(did not know mail men could be that strong) unsnapped my tennis shorts, unizipped them, and pulled and tugged on them, until they were spread wide between my thighs. "Tch..tch. Can't have these in the way, now can we?" I watched in the workout mirror on the wall, in rising horror, as Don pulled a long knife from the drawer, and proceeded to cut the tennis shorts off of me. I watched as the 60 dollar shorts, were shredded and piled loose on the floor. Don smiled, and with the knife edge along my thighs, did the same thing with my briefs, and held them up on the knifepoint, for me to see.
I could feel the cool air on my now naked bottom, and my wriggling and struggles only intensified. Don would have none of that. Stepping close to my legs, he aimed his large hand at my bottom, and applied 25 strokes on each cheek, with the intenstity only getting higher with each stroke. My bottom exploded in pain and heat, and he picked up his digital camera, and took five shots of my now reddened bottom. My breathing was becoming ragged, from the exertion of trying to get free.
Don smiled. "Patrique, You may be more than I can handle on my own". With that, he took out a paddle from the drawer, raised it high, and with a solemn cadence, applied 30 more strokes right across the tender underside of my cheeks. My eyes teared up from the pain. He just laughed.
"I will be going out for some 'supplies' for a little while. While I am gone, I have a surprise for you". As I watched him in the mirror, I saw a cabinet open, and inside where canes, tawses, leather straps, and a pickle jar, which looked completely out of place. Leaving the door open just enough so I could see all the tools, he picked up the pickle jar, opened the lid, and extracted some sort of root.
Stepping up to my lets, he pushed my cheeks apart, and with only the oil from the root, pressed it firmly into my bottom. As it pushed deeply into me, I felt a sudden warmth, then a searing heat.
Don laughed. "That is my special root, from the ginger tree". "It has been steeping in a special oil of horse liniment". So, when I return, your bottom ought to be nice and tender and ready. Patting me on my cheeks, he turned, and closed the door.
As soon as I heard the door close, I started to do two things. First, to try to push that root out of my bottom. No matter how I tried, the shape seemed to keep it plugged deep inside, where the intensity of the burn was only becoming moreso. As each minute went by, the burn inside my bottom, was matched by the burn on my cheeks. My situation seemed hopeless. I waited, breathing raggedly through the gag in my mouth.
I don’t wear pink clothes. As a short, slight, totally unstriking woman I’d better not if I want to be taken at all seriously in the world. It’s hard enough already not to look like a little girl without that.
Maybe it’s sour grapes, but I don’t think pink suits me either. Pink clothes on a little pink woman is just too wishy-washy matchy-matchy for my taste.
Not even much into pink flowers, come to that,
But there is one pink I am happy to wear. That’s the pink of a set of stripes from a good caning or switching. Delightful, that’s what that pink is.
When I first get to look at the results of a good switching, the tramlines are crimson standing out in relief against a hot pink background. Now that’s an excellent colour scheme if ever there was.
The next day the hot pink is gone, alas. But the tramlines are still there, just mellowed to a charming deep rose.
In due course that too fades to little more than a blush (unfortunately to be succeeded by the greens and yellows of healing bruises, but the less said about that the better).
And eventually the site is back to where we started, boring and unadorned - and it’s time to redecorate.
My new Spanking Library store is now open! :)
If you're into female domination with severe F/M caning & paddling as punishment then be sure to check out my other severe paddling & caning video clips at: GregorySpanked- SpankingLibrary.com :)
Have been to my summer place in the Woods in the middle of Sweden, it was super nice! Sunny Days, fishing, picking bluebearries and mushrooms, big fires going day and night....it was nice! :-)
One night I went for a swim alone. I left the house, walked through the forest for like 5 min, thee choosed a random spot by the lake it was moon light. I was alone, i got naked and went into the water, it was a little Cold but i felt good, cleaning and cooling me down...the i swam back and got up...the my clothing and my bathrobe was gone....complete silence, no one there but me....very strange. I went home, naked through the forest, happy that they had not nicked my new shoes, training shoes, real nice....made Coffey and put on other clothing, told my friends and family but nobody knew anything about it.
Any way, 2 days later at the one and only foodshop in this area, by the fruits, a lady walks up to me and wispers "I have your clothing, only bad boys swim naked, look me up if you want your clothing back!"
When i got to the check out,´i just did see her leaving the store....but when i got to my car there was a note under one of the windowcleaners with a phone number written on it....I have not called so far....