« Spanking Stories

Wrapping around two sides of their penthouse, Clare worshiped the sun on her entertainment terrace. Her delicate feet had traversed, unburned, to her teak sun lounger. Built from heat-reflective technology, white ceramic tiles remained cool beneath scorching rays.

On her slate-gray sun lounger cushions, she'd spent an hour tanning her back to perfection, her white triangle bikini untied, her matching g-string baring her bottom to honor the sun. Mark had caned her and Jessica hard, even harder in her memory since. Her marks had cleared, leaving her bare bottom pure, angelic, suntanned, and ready for her upcoming punishment.

Mark's silent bare feet appeared in her view. As he settled on the sun lounger beside her, she admired his solid, bare chest, tight black shorts and long muscled legs. Leaning over, he gave her a swift kiss, its heat scorching where the sun couldn't reach.

"Did you enjoy your girls' night?"

"Anya shocked us. Miss Roberts caned her. She showed us her marks."

"Well, you introduced her to Miss Roberts. She's a shrewd girl. Did you learn why?"

"Something in her past. Girl stuff." She glanced at him. "I can't stop playing with myself, visualizing my friends' getting punished. I imagined Anya caned hard alongside Jessica."

He sighed. "I'll take you in hand. I promised you a punishment belting for masturbating about Jessica."

Her face full of sorrow, she said, "I've also added Anya."

"Your naughty thoughts call for some decorum. They're your friends. It's time for your punishment belting. I feel you need it."

She did. He'd given her longer than her three promised days to enjoy her crazy pleasures. Flying long-haul on Monday, she'd feel her bottom. She deserved her tough penance. Her punishment was overdue. Her lust hadn't abated.

"I understand." She rolled onto her back, her nipples hardening in the sun. "I deserve it."

She loved it when he demanded her obedience. His firm assertion fired her sex. Remorse over her vivid imagination conflicted with sexy visions of her dutiful friends. His tiny shorts advertised his pleasure in her obedience. She stroked his hardness. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You must beat me."

Her pert breasts, glistening nipples, and submissive demeanor drove him wild. He respected her for asking him to keep her in check. "Your punishment belting was already serious. Extending your disobedience to include Anya must hurt."

Gazing over skyscraper roofs, she washed away her sun cream, passing the terrace shower head over her sun baked skin. Naked, she walked upstairs to confront her underwear drawer.

Selecting skimpy white cotton string bikini panties, delicate elastic strings snapped tight around her tanned hips. If he allowed her to keep her jeans, her limited panty coverage would ensure his strokes hurt her. They should. She deserved harsh punishment for her wicked pleasure.

She pulled her staple white cotton tee over her plain white bra, choosing to look cute despite dressing for a serious punishment belting. Respecting her friends, she singled out her old blue jeans. Worn thin, they gave minimum protection.

"You look beautiful," he said, as she came down their glass stairs, bare-footed.

Thrilled her cute curves in simple jeans and tight tee had pleased him. She glanced at the dining table. Laid along it, the punishment belt appeared fierce. She stroked the thick black leather designed to punish naughty bottoms. He'd lash its three-foot length across her bottom. From over his shoulder, its forceful impact would be unforgettable. Fingering the half-inch thickness, she imagined its deep bite.

"This feels meaningful," she said, her fingers trailing along the leather.

"Your Jessica fantasies had earned you twelve strokes on your jeans. Expanding your repertoire to include Anya requires a significant increase. You bottom must be bare."

"No," she gasped.

"I expect to hear 'Thank you, Mark.'"

Her gaze flitted between him and the brutal punishment belt resting on their dining table.

"I suggest you adopt the correct frame of mind," he said, "or I'll also cane you."

She must respect his decision. Her disgraceful failure to accept her discipline weighed on her slender shoulders. "Thank you, Mark," she said. "I'm sorry. You must punish me as you see fit. I apologize."

"I won't tolerate a poor attitude toward punishment. Go upstairs and shower. Don't keep me waiting. Towel off your skin. Return naked with damp skin."

Desperate to beg, she processed his instructions. On her moist skin, the belt's sting would double. She quelled her urge to argue. Arguing had already earned her severe repercussions. Meeting his stern gaze, her serious disobedience shamed her. "Thank you. I respect your decision. I'll be brave and take my punishment."

He nodded, pleased she'd backed down. Their firm dynamic defined their relationship. It was essential he didn't permit her a popular vote over her punishment.

Water tumbling over her mind, she considered her situation. She'd brought his strict censure upon herself. She'd been aware of her upcoming punishment. Still, she'd added Anya to her fantasies. Getting belted bare was tough, but fair. He was in charge of her discipline. She wanted him to be in command. Despite her impending ordeal, she loved their strict relationship, despite today's steep price.

Turning off the water, she stepped from her shower, grabbing her fluffy white towel. Permitted only a light dry, she didn't unfold it. Dabbing her body, she removed excess water. Giving her hair a rapid dry with her hair towel to prevent it dripping, she returned to Mark, naked.

"Where do you want me?"

He pointed to the empty floor space. "Bend over and grab your ankles."

Their dining table behind her, she glanced between banks of couches into the distance and obeyed. Utter submission flowed through her veins as she bent naked, grasping her ankles. Bringing Jessica's gorgeous, cute bottom to mind, she felt pangs of pleasure cruise through her sex, despite her position. The belt skimmed her bare skin as he aligned his stance.

"Your friends' punishments aren't for your enjoyment."

His strict telling-off ringing in her ears, a massive thud shot solid sting into her bare, damp cheeks, lighting fury across the surface and reaching deep into her bottom.

Pain penetrated her backside. She cried out. "I won't. I promise." Screaming her sincere remorse, she wasn't confident she could meet her commitment.

The leather repeated its painful burning band, deepening her fierce string. A resounding crack confirmed receipt of her pain. A cry escaped her lips as she battled to maintain her balance. Remorse driven from her soul by the heavy leather, her guilt leaked.

Virgin skin contrasted her burning hell as pain burrowed through her bottom. Anya's excruciating caning wasn't fodder for her lively imagination. Her friend had faced up to her disgraceful actions, accepting the serious beating she deserved. Double bands of flaming fire erupted high on her behind. Panting, she fixated on her personal agony.

Melding to her bottom, the heavy leather punishment belt wrapped fierce sting into her cheeks as he moved it lower. Squeezing her ankles to stay still, she panted through her unbearable pain.

"Anya deserved her caning. You enjoyed it for your own pleasure," he rebuked her.

Her bottom on fire. She couldn't imagine six more strokes. Her butt hurt beyond words.

"You dishonored Anya. Respect drove her to share her punishment, not your gratification."

His words hit home. Shame engulfed her as his belt blistered her butt. Her pain, pure and punishing, she cursed her willfulness. He'd warned her she'd get a punishment belting. She'd asked him to correct her. Lusting after Anya's disciplined bottom had compounded her guilt. She deserved all she got.

"Harder," she cried.

The belt lashed her bareness. She imagined Anya standing tall over her, delivering her next two brutal blows. Belted by Anya, she imagined Jessica thrashing her next two tremendous strokes. Feeling cleansed, she remembered her masturbation sessions on her bed. Despite being bent over, a wild fire burning her butt, the memory turned her on.

The heavy punishment belt bit vicious sting into her bare behind. Pride pouring off her, she took her blazing pain, acknowledging her private dishonesty. Hurt sinking through her aching bottom, she heard him place the punishment belt on their dining table.

Stroking her naked back, he said, "Stand up." His kind voice confirmed her forgiveness.

Standing into his arms, her cheeks radiated blazing heat, but intense pleasure pulsed from her core. He'd stood up to her. Accountability hurt.

Stepping back, she met his eye. "Thank you for thrashing me. Thank you for refusing to accept my pathetic attitude. I'm ashamed of how I approached my belting. My bottom will sting for days."

"I'm proud of you, Clare. Your flight on Monday will be uncomfortable."

She grinned. "Public soreness for my private misbehavior."

Giving a light spank to her stinging bottom, he ordered, "Bend over the bed."

"Yes, sir." She grinned, heading towards the stairs. His sharp spank resonating in her sex, she obeyed his delicious order.

Entering her bedroom, she nipped into the ensuite. Deep red consumed her beaten bottom down to her legs. She'd received a thorough thrashing. Thrilled by his tough demands, her sex demanded attention.

Scurrying to their bed, she bent over. Punished, strict obedience stole her soul. His commitment burned across her entire butt. She slipped her hand between her legs, twisting to stare at the city submerged in afternoon sunshine as she circled her soaking clit.

Punished and loved, she'd bent over their bed in strict obedience. Pending pleasure pulsed in her wet sex. He hadn't ordered her to masturbate, but his stern manner dominated her desperate sex.

Lost in her pleasure, his solid grip on her hips almost pushed her over her edge. Naked behind her, his hardness teased her glistening lips.

"Please," she begged.

He plunged his manhood deep inside her sex. Gripping him, she embraced his firm invasion. Held over their bed, his hard body smacked her sore butt as he drove her to her peak. His hard fucking replaced her over-sexed mind.

"You sent me to shower. Ordered me naked."

"It needed to hurt you. I won't tolerate debate."

"God, it stung. I love your command of me. I promise total obedience forever."

"Unlikely," he panted, propelling her to the edge of reason.

Engorged on his hardness, taking his committed fucking, his dominance expunged her dirty mind. "Double my discipline if I argue. Punish my slightest disobedience."

"I will," he said. "Our relationship isn't a democracy."

"Thank god," she cried, her sex screaming for instant relief.

His manhood detonated deep. Male explosive force drove her over her edge, obliterating her thoughts in cascading orgasms. Sweet and satisfying, they swept layers of beautiful, calming pleasure, each confirming her loving relationship with her hard man.

Confined in her seat until takeoff, she shifted buttock cheeks, letting each hurt awhile. Company policy required all staff to fly economy. Senior employees often upgraded their tickets. Her sore butt in skinny black '7 For all Mankind' jeans had reminded her of her cheap seat as she passed the Singapore Airlines ticket counter.

Wondering if her bruised bottom deserved her tight coach seat, she'd paused. Proud of being a punished girl, she'd forgone a comfortable light skirt for her uncomfortable, tight jeans. She deserved it. Anyway, her butt looked fantastic in her tight jeans, even if they amplified her soreness.

Rocketing down the runway, her plane soared into the sky. Glancing across at her private bed, her throbbing bottom applauded her decision. Singapore Airlines Suites Class was an extreme luxury. Tomorrow she'd hit the ground running, a perfect night's sleep powering her. Mark would approve.

At cruising altitude, she activated her 'Do Not Disturb' light, dimmed her suite lights, and lay on her front, on top of her soft white quilt. Reaching under herself, she unbuttoned her tight jeans, sliding them off. The vents wafted cool air over her white cotton string bikini panties.

Using her compact mirror, she surveyed her obvious red belt marks. Surface sting retreating into deep soreness, her punishing pain was hers to appreciate during her long flight. Her huge TV reported they hadn't traveled far. Glancing around her suite, she smiled. It was a good place to experience a sore bottom.

Jessica's succinct statement, 'Accountability hurts', made her grin. She was living proof. Holding herself to account required courage. Courage she'd discovered her best friends shared.

Mark had belted her. He'd met her argumentative attitude with overwhelming force. Shocked into her shower to boost her pain, her sex loved remembering his ruthless assault on her insubordination. It must be difficult to love someone and punish them. She admired his strength, resolving to keep her sexual craziness somewhat in check.

Slipping beneath her quilt, her head rested on her soft white pillow, her bottom heating the sheet. She'd needed a slight course correction. It had taken his delicious, firm hand.

Picturing Mark standing over her, the punishment belt in his merciless hand, her taut white elastic rubbed her hand as her finger circled her hard clit. He'd given her a severe punishment belting. Genuine pain powered her sex. Her mind demanded worse and harder. Her fast pleasure peaked. Forceful orgasms tore control from her hand, bursting a cry of pleasure from her lips. Rolling, she buried her face in her pillow, muffling her satisfying scream.