« Spanking Stories
« Clare, Jessica and Anya
20. Meeting of MindsTwo couples discuss their punishment regimes over dinner |
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Clare and Jessica discuss their spankings |
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«Beginning | Part 21» |
"Welcome," Mark said, showing Peter into his open-plan penthouse, guiding him to the couch area beside their magnificent city view.
Jessica scooted past, giving a brief 'Hi', heading towards the kitchen to find Clare. Mark smiled after her killer black lace dress.
Pouring Ruinart Blanc de Blancs Champagne, Mark gave Peter a glass.
Smiling, Peter said, "Thanks. I appreciated your detailed letter. It was elegant."
"Jessica's request caught me by surprise. Imagining your position, I realized I'd wish to know exact details."
Gauging Mark's reaction, he said, "I shared your letter with Jessica. You wrote lovely compliments she deserved to see."
"I'm glad," Mark smiled. "She's fantastic. I haven't seen her this happy."
Clare emerged from the kitchen, her candy red mini dress screaming with confidence. Its pleated bodice framed a steaming bowl of stir-fry. Jessica grinned as Clare placed her bowl on the dining table.
Clare approached Peter. Reaching, she kissed him on his cheek. "It's wonderful to meet you. I couldn't wait. Thanks for coming at short notice."
She'd called Jessica on Sunday night to arrange Monday night stir-fry, determined to meet Peter. Without warning, he'd conquered her best friend. Knowing he'd caned her on their first date boosted his attractiveness.
In the kitchen, she'd raised her dress, showing Jessica her caned thighs. Dropped into place, her striking dress exposed two of her four marks. Since Jessica had divulged her bedtime spanking, she wished Peter to see she hadn't escaped summary justice.
"My immaturity on Friday night got me four serious cane strokes on my thighs. Given I caused Jessica to get spanked by you, I'm displaying my punishment as penance." Turning to show him, his gaze warmed her sensitive welts.
"I respect your humility. Are you enjoying your shame?" he asked.
Facing him, sweet, humble shivers raced down her spine. "I am. I'll be on my best behavior tonight."
Jessica grinned. Clare's obvious approval of Peter thrilled her. "Serve the stir-fry, naughty girl. I'm starving."
Taking their seats, Clare handed out bowls piled high with noodles topped with a vibrant array of peppers, sugar-snap peas, carrots, mushrooms, broccoli and baby corn.
"The famous stir-fry, I presume," Peter said, taking his.
"It is," Clare smiled.
"Her stir-fry hooked me in our official tale," Mark said. "But I'd already caned her, twice. We'd worked up our appetites before I even savored its legendary flavor."
"Wow," Peter grinned. "I'm less shocked than I should be."
Mark glanced towards Clare. She nodded. He sipped his wine. "Clare enjoyed naughty stories on her work computer. Because of an unfortunate past problem, she monitors the computer misuse report. She threw herself on my mercy."
"Did he give you choices?" Peter asked Clare, enjoying her scandalous story.
"A humiliating report in my HR record or his cane. Twelve strokes. He recognized from my reading material, I'd respect a caning. We held hidden feelings, but my intense caning forced us over the invisible line between us."
"And I'm forever grateful," Mark said.
Peter smiled.
Clare said. "I've heard Jessica's version, but what is it like to date this smoldering tornado?"
Her complimentary description made Jessica beam.
"I sought to impress her by taking her to Lumiere."
"You succeeded," Jessica said, her fork halfway to her mouth.
"Shh!" Clare laughed. "I wish to hear Peter's version."
"Jessica was uncomfortable after we'd fallen on the train," Peter said. "Revealing she'd received a serious caning seconds before we parted left me speechless. I thrust my business card into her hand."
"You ordered me to call," Jessica interjected.
He nodded. "She obeyed, thank goodness. Over dinner I couldn't ignore her dramatic revelation and learned about Miss Roberts."
"She's amazing," Clare said, resting her cutlery in her bowl. "She understands girls. I appreciate her formality." Glancing towards her friend, she encouraged Peter to see Miss Roberts as a positive influence on his girlfriend. She needn't have worried.
"Since Jessica's formal discipline drew me to her, I'm a fan of Miss Roberts. I admire you both." He'd recognized Clare's hint and admired her protection of her friend.
Mark put down his wineglass. "You'd moved in together before we'd even heard your name."
"Walking beside the river, discipline featured in our conversation. We discussed a potential relationship I didn't realize was already underway. I mentioned I'd punish her if she was disobedient. Jessica changed our pace. She hailed a cab, demanding my address. She bent over my bed for the cane to prove her willing obedience."
"I wore this dress," Jessica said.
Mark admired her black, intricate cut-work lace mini dress, his eye following her stunning pastel floral embroidery. "You look incredible," Mark said. "Peter didn't stand a chance."
"Thank you," Jessica said. "It's too delicate to cane. I stripped to my string, getting it bare. Three blazing strokes later, he knew I understood absolute obedience. His painful promise resonated for days."
"You must have slept together after your audacious performance," Mark grinned. Jessica's bold resolve proved she deserved Peter.
Clare grinned. Jessica had regaled her with the girlish details.
"Yes, Mark," Jessica sighed. "I slept with him. I'd received an expert caning." She smiled at her boyfriend, knowing her public certification of his skill would boost his ego. She loved him for making her proud.
Peter smiled, gazing around their intimate dinner table. His amazing girlfriend was unbelievable value. Her gift kept on giving. She obeyed him by choice. She was beautiful beyond words and came with fabulous friends who shared their views.
"I interrupted you often. Clare had to shush me," Jessica said, hanging her dress in her closet.
"You were enjoying my rich retelling of our story." Peter smiled. "It's forgivable. I won't spank you for that."
She pouted. She wouldn't have minded. Their dinner conversation had tipped her sex into dangerous territory.
He pulled her onto their bed, his black trunks straining against his desire. Wearing her black string panties and bra from their first night, she'd guaranteed his reaction. His huge hand cupped her moist sex.
"Did you enjoy revealing our true story?" he asked.
"Yes," she gushed, forcing her sex into his firm touch. "You turned me on."
His hand slid into her string, circling her clit. "Describe your caning."
"I bent over this bed, pillows supporting me. I offered myself bare for your discipline." She panted, his finger lighting up her mind. "Each cane stroke bit into my butt, searing an agonizing stripe on my bare bottom. I held still, proving my obedience." Flicking her bra loose, she slipped her fingers under it, darting over her nipples as she threw her head back, inflamed by his touch.
"Keep your mind on your story, unless you wish me to cane you," Peter growled.
"Don't stop. Sorry." Teasing her nipples, she concentrated. "I'd babbled instead of giving a straightforward answer. I took my cane strokes with dignity. You taught me a proper lesson. I wanted to be your worthy girlfriend," she said, breathless. "You taught me to expect sound punishment. I let you cane me, hard. I loved it."
Memories of her unconditional submission broke her hold. She came hard and fast on his finger, orgasms hurtling through her, celebrating her strict obedience with overwhelming layers of extraordinary bliss.
Watching her come, he rubbed his manhood, his strokes fast.
His obvious pleasure pulsed a deep thrill through her, despite her relaxed bliss. "I took my strokes," she whispered, her eyes eating up his hardness. "You didn't skimp on my punishment. You thrashed me. Three harsh cane strokes whipped into my bottom. You made me prove myself."
Rubbing his manhood, he said, "You submitted to a sound caning. You bent and stayed still while I punished you hard. You respected your discipline and our relationship."
"I owed you respect for demanding my obedience," she said.
"You obeyed me," he growled. Rising on his side, he blasted his seed over her bare stomach.
Scooping his seed, she licked her finger, reveling in his bountiful admiration. Smiling as her clean finger left her lips, she asked, "Do you like my friends?"
He met her bright eyes. "On every level."
Lowering her zip, Clare slipped her candy-red mini dress from her shoulders. The silky fabric fell away. Glancing at Mark on the bed, already in his tight white shorts, she approached, her red bandeau bra and matching string panties hardening his manhood as she watched.
"You're gorgeous," Mark said
She grinned, "Even with caned thighs on display?"
"More gorgeous." He smiled. "Was it humiliating?"
"It grounded me. I needed my shame. Jessica got an intense bedtime spanking, thanks to me. Peter deserved to know you'd punished me. During our evening, sharing my punishment with friends who understood felt marvelous."
Shoving his hand into his white trunks, he rubbed his manhood, watching her in her sexy red lingerie, listening to her voice. "Was Jessica's spanking bad?"
She smiled. She liked his excitement. It fueled her own. "Jessica got spanked long and hard. She told me it stung, exacerbating the cane stripes you'd given her."
"I'm glad he spanked her."
She smiled. He didn't need to know her friend had also got two cane strokes, harder than his. Climbing up beside him in her skimpy red underwear, she undid her bra. Kneeling, she tormented her freed nipples. Shoving her hand into her panties, she rubbed her soaking clit. "I displayed my caned thighs, sharing my shame. Everyone watched my legs."
"I'm proud of you." He rubbed himself hard. "It was a tough self-punishment. You're a good girl. You showed Peter incredible respect, disclosing your shameful private punishment."
"I'm a good girl," she muttered, her finger working overtime. Wallowing in her humiliation, she met his eye. His piercing gaze made her come hard in her panties. Lust collided with self-respect, washing joy through her curves as she rocked on her knees.
Flopping beside him, she said, "Sorry, I've needed my hand in my panties all evening."
"Don't apologize. You're beautiful," he said, rubbing himself faster. "I told Peter our story. He knows I caned you at work."
"His approval made my panties damp. I love him knowing I got the rattan across my bare bottom in your office for severe disobedience. He knows I'm an honorable girl, willing to bend when I'm wrong."
Her words stimulated his mind. Visions of her bent over his desk pushed him towards his climax. "I caned you hard, granting you no leniency."
"You gave me a formal beating for disobedience," she said, rubbing her keen clit. "You ordered me over your desk and punished me."
Her sweet words drove his pleasure. "I had to give my beautiful assistant a formal beating for disobedience."
"Caning her was essential. She needed tough punishment. You forced her to touch her toes for six further strokes because she stole pleasure from her punishment."
"I thrashed you, twice," he said.
"You did. Peter knows you caned me at work," she panted. "It was fair. I received an official caning." Pressure built beneath her finger with her proud admission. She came hard, pressing her thighs around her orgasms as they rocketed down her legs.
His body lifted, lunged, and exploded his protein all over her bare body. Smoothing his sticky pleasure into her soft skin, she grinned. "Great moisturizer."
He collapsed onto his pile of pillows. "Jessica lights up with Peter. She's met her match."
"Peter's perfect. She's done well. I loved our conversation. It was a proper meeting of minds."