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7. Perfect Proof

Spanking Story


A gutsy girlfriend asks for the cane before a work party to prove her obedience

«Beginning Part 8»

Alison kicked off her shoes and nestled her feet into the plush carpet. The city slid by in silence, few noticing the black Rolls-Royce Phantom gliding through its midst. Adam had sent his new car to bring her to the hotel. It was surreal.

He was a billionaire. Not the paper sort, but cold hard cash. She'd learned about the sale of Zang the night before under strict secrecy. She'd still been at the office, launching a range of mid-price fountain pens with 14k gold nibs, when he'd arrived home from work for the last time. To her co-workers, her boyfriend was an investor. People lost interest because it sounded boring. Her job was hers and she was keen to keep it that way, more so since every news service had covered the Zang deal.

They were moving house in a few weeks. He'd waited long enough to unlock the value he'd created. She couldn't - wouldn't - slow him down, but the pace of change was hard to keep up with.

It had been more than a month since he'd last disciplined her. She'd missed the comforting correction, but she had a plan. Thinking about it turned her on. She loved him. Before, during and after tonight's party, she'd show him how much.

Celebrating Zang's impressive growth, the party was Adam's last official duty. Her old co-workers would still remember her as the customer service agent she'd been, but she'd moved on. The car drew to a silent stop under the portico of the five-star hotel. They were staying the night. Perfect for her plan.

While Adam was in the bathroom, she opened the wardrobe, felt down the side of his case and extracted the cane. She'd experienced its quiet impact in a hotel room before. Smoothing her fingers along the flexible rattan, she placed it on the bed. Stripping off her chinos and blouse, she lay beside the cane in her white cotton bikini panties and bra. Their innocent natural charm suited a girl who needed the cane, and her white cotton ensemble never failed to excite the hell out of him.

He came out of the bathroom and stood drinking her in. "The party starts in an hour. I didn't know you deserved discipline?"

"I don't. But I need you to cane me, anyway."

He sat on the side of the bed and placed a warm hand on her hip.

"I'm not the same girl everyone knew me as. I've moved on in work and life. Everything is better since we got together. I choose to obey you. It comes with a price which must hurt sometimes. Tonight I need to feel it. I want a constant reminder of how lucky I am and how far I've come."

"Okay," he said, shifting his warm hand to heat more of her skin.

"When you make me take my punishment, I always deserve it. Tonight I want you to make me bend over because you say so and for no other reason. I want to give you perfect proof of my obedience."

Standing, he held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. "I love you. Such eloquence shouldn't surprise me, but I love it too. I love your willingness to obey, even when it's hard for you. I love everything about how you are with me and I love how you are with yourself. Tonight I'm going to cane you because it's good for you, but it will still hurt."

"I love you too," she said, smiling into the eyes which must command her, "and I wouldn't have it any other way."

His tight white boxers revealed his admiration.

"Hand me the cane," he ordered.

As it always did, his strict tone shifted her balance. Taking the cane from the bed, she handed it to him and lowered her eyes to the floor. With no defined reason, her submission was poignant and her panties dampened in anticipation.    

"Discipline is good for you," he said. "When I decide to cane you, you must obey without question."

"Yes, Adam." She relaxed. He understood everything.

Her request had taken him by surprise. His admission that he loved her hadn't. Right now, love meant he had to cane her, and he wouldn't let her down.

"Bend over and touch your toes," he commanded, pointing to a spot in the middle of the carpet.

Her sex turned molten, flooding her panties. Squeezing her legs tight to hold her pleasure, she looked back over her shoulder and locked eyes with him, holding his gaze as long as she could while she bent. Admiration shone from his eyes and pooled hot pleasure in her sex.

Her fingers on her bare toes, she held the difficult position with pride. She loved him for being uncompromising tonight. Her sex throbbed as the cane tapped below her panty line. They'd risen as she bent, exposing more bare flesh.

"Six strokes. I expect you to take them with finesse."

The cane snapped across her cheeks. Ferocious burn scorched her bottom. She pressed her fingers down hard, defying the pain to disrupt her obedience.

As she waited for the next stroke, pain drove deep into her behind. She endured it in silence, proof of her certain love. When the cane lashed her again, just below the previous stroke, she hissed with fury at the explosive agony.  

She respected him for giving it hard. Strict discipline burned into her behind, branding her bottom with his love. Forced to handle the hurt, her respect soared.

She heard the swish before the last stroke landed. The hard crack on her bare skin lit fierce torment in a thin line right where she would sit. Her love consumed her as she realized how painful tonight would be. She'd take the deepest pleasure in showing him how proud she was of her status as a disciplined girl, his disciplined girl.

"Stand up," he said.

Rising with grace despite the fire in her bottom, she stood with her hands relaxed by her sides. She wanted to rub her bottom like crazy, but wanted far more to take her discipline with distinction.

He hugged her and whispered, "I love you. After I've had to beat you and you stand with such respect and elegance, I love you even more."

It thrilled her. His words echoed how she felt. "Thank you for doing it hard," she whispered into his chest. "I love you too."

Reaching up, she confirmed her words with a kiss.

Heading to the bathroom, she left him turned on. They both were. It was what she wanted. Her six fresh stripes stung like fury under the hot shower jets. She soothed them with Coco Mademoiselle bath soap and gave her clit a light tease, but wouldn't allow herself to come. That pleasure was for later.

Her red g-string exposed her bare welted bottom to the mirror. She slid her matching cami dress into place, running her hands over the thin fabric and the painful branding beneath. The light dress teased her fiery behind and skimmed her thighs with its ruffle hem. Her simple nude heels left her long bare legs to be admired.

He squeezed her hand as they entered the hotel ballroom. Electricity pulsed through her fresh welts and deep tenderness shrouded her.

He swept a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray, passed it to her and took another for himself.

Standing to mingle was a welcome start to the evening. She caught up with Mary, who she hadn't seen since leaving for her new job.

"Can I ask you something?" Mary said, picking a bacon jalapeno popper puff off a passing tray and swiping it through the cream cheese dip before letting the waiter go. "I've always wanted to. It never seemed appropriate, but I can't get it off my mind."

"Ask away," Alison replied, relaxed. There wasn't much to hide. Adam had beaten her in front of Mary. The shame of being disciplined in front of her co-worker was still a deep and pleasurable memory.

"You got together with Adam quick after our," she paused, searching for the word, "event. Did you like it?"

The room was a hubbub of chatter. She leaned into Mary. "Not only did I like being dealt with hard, I still am." She wouldn't admit to the intense and private welts adorning her bare behind as she spoke, but their heat powered her words.

"Wow. I've always wanted to know if other girls like it. I kind of do. Not when it hurts in the moment, but later."

"I know," Alison said. "It's good for me and turns me on ridiculously."

"Me too," Mary said. "I've told no one that before."

"Find a man who's hard on you. Tell him what you want and don't hold back. You were confident enough to bend over that night in the office, you're confident enough to do it again," she smiled.

They discussed Mary's less than successful dating life and Alison's new job. It was nice to catch up, but Alison had moved on.

Her bottom followed her around the room while her expression radiated calm happiness. In a quiet moment, she wondered who else had fiery branding beneath their dress. The law of averages suggested she wasn't alone. The thought increased the width of her smile.

As she pulled out her chair at the dinner table, she met his eye, smiled and sat down on her sore bottom.

Dancing after dinner was hot. Her dress swayed across her welts. Every step lanced heat through her sex, pure painful pleasure. Her red dress marked her out on the dance floor. Her red branding marked her out in her mind. She pressed against him during a slow dance, feeling the effect she was having. His hands squeezed her bum. "Harder," she panted in his ear. Sharp pain shot along her sore ridges. Riveted to him, her sex was desperate for release.

In the elevator, he caressed her bottom through her thin dress, running his fingers over the sensitive welts he'd placed there. She loved his commanding touch.

Opening the door to their room, he slid the thin red straps from her shoulders and drew down the hidden zip. The dress fell away, revealing her bare breasts, nipples hard to attention.

She nudged it from her hips, bent over in her red g-string and grabbed it from the floor.

It was too much for him. He pushed her towards the armchair. She grabbed the arms as he bent her over and growled in her ear, "I have to have you. Now."

She heard his tuxedo hit the floor. His shirt flew through the corner of her vision as he stripped to fuck her. Molten desperation roared around her sex. Her g-string pushed aside, she gripped the arms of the chair and forced her feet into the floor as his manhood engorged her sex and thrust deep inside her. She locked his hardness in a vice as he gripped her hips and consumed her.

From the moment he'd ordered her to touch her toes, she'd wanted this. The tortuous wait had been delicious. He skimmed her sensitive nipples, fast and light, stealing her attention and came hard, forcing an overload on her senses. Orgasms burst from her desperate sex, releasing the evening's backlog in a torrent of throbbing pleasure, soaking her in satisfaction as her mind replayed a video of her evening. She'd been her most perfect self.

He swept her into his arms, carried her to the bed and laid her on the fine Egyptian cotton.

"Nobody saw me how I used to be. Nobody," she smiled. "I floated around the party on an air of elegance, sophistication and confidence."

"When you sat for dinner, you were delightful. I loved knowing how sore you were under your dress. On the dance floor you were red hot. I was in awe of you. Nobody stood a chance against you tonight."

She slid up the bed to reach her pillow, her welts sparking sweet pain. He pulled the comforter over them and held her in his arms.

"I love my bare branded bottom and I love you. If you ever feel I need it, discipline me. I'll obey you, with or without a reason."

"I love you too. You're not like any other girl."

She grinned. "Told you so."