« Spanking Stories

« Clare, Jessica and Anya

 

16. Honesty (Part Two)

A lawyer bends over for the cane from her boyfriend on their first date to prove she'll obey him

 
 

Requiring a spanking, Jessica gets the cane from Peter, bending over the bed

 
   
«Beginning Part 17»

In the taxi, Jessica whispered to Peter. "I'd love a boyfriend who wasn't afraid to spank me. I wish to prove my desire to obey you. By the river, I babbled when you demanded a strict relationship. You deserved a straightforward answer. Punish me for babbling. Decide my sentence and cane me. Make it hurt or I won't trust you. Beneath this delicate dress, I'm only wearing thin string panties. Stripping for your cane will test my obedience. My humility is my sincere promise to obey you."

Stunned by her swift challenge, he searched her blue eyes. Her fiery commitment was unmistakable. "Three hard strokes," he declared. He'd make them hurt. Their future depended on it.

"Thank you."

His firm promise to her bottom heated her sex. Her backside would hurt tomorrow, bearing his definition of a firm relationship. It matched hers. She wouldn't subject her exquisite dress to a caning. She must strip. On her bare bottom, her caning would sting, but her commitment was sky high.

"I'll end up sleeping with you," he warned.

"I'm counting on it." Her sex tightened in damp agreement. It had demanded she sleep with him since he opened his mouth. She'd imagined him shagging her against a wall even before they'd met. His confident handling of their unusual introduction had begged respect. He'd neither backed away from their unusual subject, nor had he dwelled on it. He'd opened up to her, showing he understood.

Quiet in their thoughts, he pulled her close and held her.

Knowing his powerful arm would soon thrash her bare bottom with a rattan cane softened her body into his protective embrace. When she'd summoned the courage to call, he'd welcomed her with obvious pleasure. Their dinner had been sublime, his company easy and exciting. Afraid their evening was ending, she'd leaped at his proposed walk. Warming her shoulders with his jacket proved his chivalry. His frank communication defined a powerful boyfriend. His declaration he required her to accept his punishments had thrilled her. Reliable, radiant male heat wrapped her in a cocoon of luxury. Her plan vague, she'd hailed the taxi. Sat together heading to his home, her eloquence had flowed. Facing a meaningful caning, pain was inevitable. She wanted to feel his power and carry his marks.

Their taxi entered a tranquil tree-lined street, pulling up outside a traditional rose-colored town house merged between the sandstone and black facades of its neighbors. Had anyone asked at random, his four-story eighteenth century town house wouldn't have pleased her.

While he paid their driver, she stepped down three steps to his wooden double doors. He led her into the grand foyer. Light oak floors and an ornate wooden staircase kept a presence modern houses lacked.

"I was young when my father revived it. Everywhere important is ten minutes by taxi."

"I love it," she said.

His home was as genuine as him. Blue carpet augmented the wood stairs she would ascend.

"Do you have any doubts?" he asked, giving her space. On the train, she'd touched his arm, admitting she'd received a punishment caning, rather than let him worry about her. Her generous spirit rivaled her integrity for his adoration. Her spirited commitment in the taxi promised utter trust. He'd thought of her six times a minute since their train encounter. He hoped she'd feel able to keep her commitment.

"No," she said, heading up the blue carpeted stairs. "I deserve this." She wanted him to test her. Doubts didn't exist. Supreme confidence in their embryonic relationship reigned. Dreaming of dominant boyfriends was healthy. Obeying one for real challenged her bravery. She'd find herself forced to comply, offering her bare bottom for its proscribed beating.

He called, "Turn back on yourself for the main bedroom. I'll be up soon."

Thirteen foot ceilings welcomed her to his bedroom. Glancing at his meaningful bed, she wandered into his ensuite. Wiping off remnants of her smudged lipstick in his mirrored cabinets, she washed her hands. She could decline and leave. Her sex argued. She quelled it. Her discipline was commitment, not pleasure. He'd made his demands. She intended to provide graphic evidence of her willing compliance.

Obedience in her nature, his honest demand deserved her utmost respect. Her brand new boyfriend was about to cane her. She remembered her blathering reply to his demand. Her messy response merited three sound strokes.

Walking into the bedroom, she met her boyfriend holding his cane. Three feet of golden rattan, designed for strict, painful punishment.

Dreams had filled her masturbational bed. His powerful, confident stance with the cane beat every fantasy. Shivers of sweet obedience pulsed into her sex.

Stacking pillows near the foot of his king-size bed, her dress rose. Feeling her hemline skim her thighs, her sex enjoyed tormenting him. Her support stack ready, she reached behind her, lowered her zip and stepped out of her intricate cut-work lace black mini dress, revealing her black cotton string panties and plain bandeau bra.

He stood mesmerized by her confidence as she laid her beautiful dress over his armchair.

Humility stalked her as she positioned herself facing him, deprived of her dress. She'd showed her willingness. She hoped he'd take charge.

His piercing gaze scorched her exposed skin. "Your incoherent reply to my simple declaration has earned you three cane strokes. They will hurt. It's your chance to prove you'll be an obedient girlfriend."

Her sex dampened as she nodded. Obedient girlfriend defined her. She wrapped his definition around her, luxuriating in it.

"I don't want your total submission. But when I decide you deserve punishment, I expect your obedience. Bend over."

Facing her pile of pillows, she obeyed, resting her arms on the bed, grateful for her solid support. Her black cotton string clung to her wet sex as she presented her bare bottom for his cane. Bent in true submission, her heart pounded with pleasurable fear. She must take her punishment with extraordinary grace. This was her boyfriend, commanding her obedience. Her stillest body would convey her deepest respect.

The cane tapped her vulnerable skin. She craved its intense pain. Her sex begged it to hurt. She deserved a caning for sleeping with him tonight. Her crime was inevitable.

Fierce fire scorched her bare skin. Pain ripped along the line he'd marked on her cheeks. She stayed still as her escalating hurt extinguished all doubts. Grimacing as she handled her shocking sting, she prayed every stroke would carry his same commitment.

He watched a white line flash across her gorgeous bottom cheeks. Turning instant red with fury as her bottom honored its pain with dead-still respect.

Grappling with her pain, she wallowed in his dominance. He'd caned her hard. She could trust him. Heat intensified from his honest stroke. Her admiration and lust merged, her sex approving its fresh cocktail.

"A simple declaration deserves a simple response. How simple was yours?"

His sound scolding ripped joy into her heart. She deserved his stern tone. It penetrated her brain, generating waves of respect. "Unsatisfactory. I deserve my caning."

His cane seared her bare bottom, branding her with his authority. Her silence broadcasted respect. Proud of her performance under his cane, her self-respect roared in her ears. Heat and pain raged through her behind. Her sex absorbed it. Turned on, elated, and stuffed with humility, she'd bent for her dominant boyfriend. She was a caned girlfriend.

The last stroke cracked into her bottom, confirming her full status. He'd thrashed her. Ablaze in agonizing pain and choked with pride, she stayed in position, his honorable, obedient, caned girlfriend.

"It's over," he said.

She rose from his bed, facing him, arms by her sides. Three separate lines burned her behind. "Thank you for my caning. I deserved it. Please accept my caned bottom as proof I will obey you."

"Hell, yes. Accepted." He folded her into his arms. "I want you," he panted, his hard need pressing against her.

Breaking free, she flung herself backward across his massive bed. Arms spread wide, she cried, "Take me."

Her sheer confidence propelled his Armani suit to the wooden bedroom floor. His white shirt lost buttons in his haste. His rock hard erection forced off his tight white underpants. Climbing onto the bed, he ripped her black string panties down her smooth, sexy legs, discarding them. She undid her bra, keen to be naked, and his.

Rising above her, his hardness teased her. Tracing the soaking lips of her desperate sex, it promised utter control. Flicking her short blonde hair as she twisted her head, she spread her thighs, panting as her sex throbbed its unequivocal demand.

Guiding his manhood into her, his smooth entrance stole her soul. Her sex gripped his solid hardness, treasuring its prize. He plunged into her with solid strokes, denying her control, slipping her sex towards stratospheric pleasure. Balanced between denial and destiny, he nudged her closer to her edge, never letting her reach climax.

Her heart had led her beneath the genuine man she'd fallen on top of. Her bottom burned into his bed, proving he'd thrashed her. Held against her fragile need, she whispered, "You caned me."

He thrust her onto her precipice with deep, dominant strokes. "I expect an obedient girlfriend to bend on my command. You had to prove yourself."

"I did," she admitted.

"You did. I'll spank you often for your own good."

Her sex screamed for his promise.

"Again," she demanded.

"I'll spank you often. It's for your own good."

Powerful thrusts accompanied his firm pledge. Her sex screamed for him. Her throbbing bottom proved his commitment, wrapping her body in his firm command.

She gripped his bum, drawing him deep inside her. His solid torso grazed her tight nipples, tipping her over the edge. Resplendent orgasms surged against his onslaught. Coming hard into her bountiful waves of pleasure, he swamped her senses with blissful certainty.

His hard chest crushed her tender breasts as she calmed. He slid off her body, pulling her into him, and held her in his tight grasp.

As she relaxed, tears welled. "That was the best sex ever," she whispered.

Relief flooded him. He'd followed his instincts, summoning strength to cane her. She hadn't deserved it, but she'd needed it. They both had. "Thank you," he replied.

Kissing her calm lips, he smoothed his hand over her slim curves. "You're beautiful naked."

Returning his kiss, she said. "So are you."

"I thought you wouldn't sleep with me tonight."

She grinned. "A girl can change her mind."