« Spanking Stories

Alison entered the Limelight Lounge right on time for her Friday night date. She spotted Adam already seated at a table on the raised platform at the rear of the restaurant. His sharp black suit and open white shirt heightened his commanding aura. His wide smile coursed a thrill down her spine.

Her ruched black body-con dress hugged her curves. She'd had two days to plan her outfit and only one dress to choose from. She'd spent most of the two days coming up with ever more creative ways to ask him to discipline her again. The men she'd dated in college had been okay, even good, but Adam was in a whole other league.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked, handing her the cocktail menu as she sat.

"A Bee's Knees, please," she said, glancing at the menu.

He ordered two. "That was quick."

"I've been here before."

"I haven't," he said, smiling. "Nor have I bent a girl over my desk, spanked her, and got a date."

She laughed. "I'm not most girls."

"Should I assume your swift message the next day shows a connection between the two events?"

She took the opening. It was perfect. "You should."

"Tell me about it," he said. "Be open and direct."

His demand solved her dilemma. "You were right to spank us hard. We deserved it. It hurt. I'm grateful, so is Mary. You helped us out of an unpleasant situation and you were fair. We knew the rules. We broke them. Giving us sore bottoms was a kindness."

She looked down at the table and said, "I appreciate being treated hard when I deserve it."  

Her bright yellow cocktail arrived, complete with two glistening slices of lemon. She hoped the waiter hadn't overheard. Taking a sip, the alcohol powered her on. "I keep thinking about how well you dealt with me. You didn't mess about. You were hard on me. I felt forgiven and much better."

He smiled at the compliment. "That wasn't easy to admit, was it?"

"No," she looked up at him. A smile crept across her face. She couldn't stop it.

"I thought about you afterwards," he said. "You were obedient. You bent and took your punishment with goodwill. It was hot. You have a gorgeous bottom and great taste in panties," he smiled. "But I'm glad it was painful. You deserved it."

He leaned forward. "You had pleasure in your obedience written all over your face. If we're starting something here, I'll expect you to be obedient or face the consequences."

Heat flashed through her sex. She sat stunned. Starting something. Obedient. Consequences. She wanted him. "Make me," she said, breathless and shocked by her quick response.

He stared at her hard. "Go to the restroom. Take off your panties. Bring them back and hand them to me in public."

She gave him a look of pure lust and stood.

Ordered into the restroom to bare herself, she was in a frenzy of excitement. She shimmied her dress to her waist, leaned her bare bottom against the marble sink and rammed her hand into her tiny scrap of black lace.

She rubbed herself and threw her head back. 'Take off your panties' - his voice filled her mind. He had ordered her to undress in the restroom. If someone came in, they'd see her. She came hard, grabbing the marble to stay on her feet as orgasms cascaded through her desperate sex.

His command had sent her off the deep end. Whipping off her g-string, she pushed down her dress. The door opened, and she turned to hide her flushed face in the mirror. The other girl took a stall. She calmed her breathing, folded her panties in a neat black square and checked her appearance in the mirror.

Returning to the table more calm than she'd left it, but bare under her thin dress, she sat back down and handed her tiny folded panties across the table.

He slid them into his inside suit pocket. "Well done. How does it feel to be bare?"

"Obedient," she said. Heat blossomed from her desperate sex and suffused her legs and body. Her nipples were hard under her black bandeau bra.

"You were," he said.

"Not quite. I brought myself off standing at the sinks," she whispered. Her admission hadn't been intentional, but she didn't deserve his admiration when she'd been so shameless.

He smiled. "Did I tell you to pleasure yourself?"

"No."

"What did I tell you to do?"

"Take off my panties, bring them back and hand them to you in public." Her sex clenched. She crossed her legs and twisted them together tight.

"I told you I expect obedience, and I warned you there would be consequences."

"I deserve them."

"Without delay," he said.

Her heart raced. Her sex red-lined. He was being hard on her. She didn't want him to stop. The idea of sitting through a meal was excruciating. "Yes," she breathed.

He called for the bill and explained they'd had a regrettable but urgent change of plans. She was hungry - but not for food. They hurried to his navy BMW, parked right outside.

As they pulled away, he said, "If someone had seen you, it would have embarrassed us both."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"A mere spanking won't be adequate."

It wouldn't. Her shameless act of desperation could have smeared her reputation, or his. He must be hard on her.

"Will it?" he demanded an answer.

"No. You need to be much harder on me than that. I'm sorry."

"You will be."

She looked across. He sounded strict, but the slight smile playing on his lips proved her disobedience had pleased him. It didn't excuse her shocking behavior. She'd never done something so reckless. He was right. She'd taken it too far. Had she been testing him or just plain desperate? Either way, she could have embarrassed them both.

"Lift your dress to your waist and sit bare on the seat," he said, his look stern. "Let's see if you can behave."

She bared her bottom against the cool leather. Punishing her was the least he should do. Hot, wet pleasure pulsed through her core and soaked her sex. In a meek tone, she asked, "Please may I have my panties back. I'm hot as hell and I don't want to damage the leather."

He pulled her panties from his suit and returned them. She bent double in the seat and slipped them on. "Thank you," she said, feeling better at once. The depth of her obedience stunned her. He'd forced her to ask for her panties and she loved it. She craved his strictness.

He parked in his driveway. She lowered her dress for the walk to the front door. He led her into the lounge, closed the curtains and rummaged in the side cupboard before extracting a battered box of Monopoly. Opening it on top, he shuffled through the orange chance cards and extracted one.

She admired his cream carpet and silver couch, but the modern room lacked any flowers or feminine touches.

He returned to where she stood, the single orange card in hand. She looked up. His gaze burned into her. "I have to deal with your indecent behavior. You need to be punished and you need to be fucked."

He pointed back to the hall. "The bathroom is through there. Take this card and take a moment. If you'd prefer to leave, when you return, hand me the card and I'll drive you home."

She took the card. She needed a moment.

Locking the door, she sat on the toilet seat and flicked the card over. It read:

She grinned and placed the card on the corner of the sink.

She'd performed outrageous public masturbation. By any standard, she deserved a decent thrashing, but things had moved quick. She respected him for spanking her at work. She respected him even more for giving her the chance card now. He was a thoughtful and kind man.

Washing her hands, she dried them on the plush gray towel and took the card from the sink. Entering the lounge, she walked over to him and tossed the card on top of the Monopoly box. "Thrash me, fuck me and don't go easy."

There was nowhere to run. She withered as his gaze hardened.

"Your behavior on our date was disgraceful, Alison," he said, his face stern and his tone hard. "What if someone had seen you?"

She studied her feet. "I'm sorry."

"Face the back of the couch and lift your dress to your waist."

She shimmied up her dress for the third time tonight.

He unbuckled his leather belt, ripped it from his suit pants, caught the other end, doubled it over and cracked it hard between his hands. Black and two inches wide, its sharp retort promised intense pain.

"You need belting," he said.

The leather in his hands stole her breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Bend over."

Her sex clenched tight. She'd lusted after those words since his office. Bending from the waist, she placed her obedient hands on the dark silver seat cushion.

As he checked his position, the leather caressed her bare cheeks, stiff enough to maintain shape, but supple enough to flex and hurt.

"Did I tell you to masturbate in public in the bathroom?"

"No," she mumbled.

The leather lashed each cheek. Sharp sting tore into her bare flesh. She cried out at the crisp pain.

"Speak up," he said.

"No, you didn't tell me to masturbate. I'm sorry."

It was easy to apologize with a stinging backside, but she meant every word. His belt stung every inch of her virgin flesh, firing intense sting through her selfish recklessness. She pushed her hands into the cushion and breathed through the pain.

"Taking off your panties was a simple instruction, wasn't it?"

She'd learned her lesson. He expected a decent answer, "Yes, it was. I'm sorry I disobeyed you."

He applied ten solid strokes in response. Each lash from the leather intensified the heat and pain in her skin. Her sex lapped up her suffering and soaked her tiny black g-string.

"A well-behaved girl doesn't masturbate in the restroom. Were you a well-behaved girl?"

"No. I wasn't," she said, grateful for his harsh scolding. Her shocking indecency had stunned her. She hadn't known she was going to do it and hadn't been able to help it.

"You've taken your punishment well. How many more strokes do you deserve? Show me you're sorry. Make it a decent number or I'll double it."

Her sore skin begged for release, but her mind condemned her. She needed to earn his respect. She doubled down and chose hard. "Ten," she answered in a clear voice.

"Good girl. They'll be hard ones."

She was a good girl. She'd chosen well and won his respect. Now she must keep it. She pressed her hands into the cushion and pushed out her sore bottom.

He saw the gesture. His rock-hard manhood ached. She was so honest and obedient, he wanted to take her as she was. But he had a duty to belt her, and he must respect her choice to accept ten more hard strokes of his belt.

The belt snapped across her cheeks, low and hard, blistering her sensitive skin. She panted. It was the lesson she deserved. She didn't move an inch as he belted her. He lashed her soft skin with fiery punishment, each blow branded her disobedience where it hurt and drove self-respect into her. She'd made a foolish choice and got belted for it.

"Stand up," he said.

She obeyed. He took her hand, led her around the couch, pulled her in and kissed her lips. As she tasted him with her tongue, her sex blossomed to full force, pouring hot pleasure into her panties. She pressed against him, his hardness perfect proof she wasn't the only one turned on by her strict punishment.

She reached behind, lowered her zip, slid the spaghetti straps from her shoulders and pushed her dress to the floor. Unhooking her black bandeau bra, she let it drop.

His gaze on her bare breasts stoked the inferno in her sex. He took her hand, pulled her down to the carpet and slid his firm hand into her tiny black string.

She rammed her clit against his finger. His electric touch fused with her fire, raised her to the edge and held her in delicious agony. She twisted to escape as he brushed her nipples with an agonizing lightness, scraping her burning bottom on the carpet. She abandoned all control and writhed under his firm finger as he thrust her over her peak and tossed a plethora of orgasms through her victorious sex.

He kicked off his suit pants and ripped off his shirt. His straining erection burst from his tight white trunks. She shoved off her g-string and her nipples hardened again as his manhood saluted her.

She spread her thighs. He kneeled between them and slid deep inside her, forcing himself deeper while her greedy sex gripped his length. Each hard thrust stole control of her body and demanded her obedience.

"I had to punish you on our first date," he gasped.

Holding out against her need, she breathed, "It won't be the last time. I need tough discipline."

"You'll get it."

He drove his commitment deep into her and came in a full-force thrust. She burst over his hardness and cried his name, drenching his manhood in her juices. Pure pleasure rocked her body as orgasms tumbled in waves, spinning out of control. Nothing was the same as it had been.

Stunned by the severity of her release, she lay exhausted beside him on the carpet and slipped her fingers into his hand. His grasp closed.

"Can you handle it at work?" he asked.

"Handle what?"

"Being my girlfriend."