« Spanking Stories

Damien dropped his arms onto his sumptuous sun lounger, his head settling into its cushioned support. Surveying his grounds from his bedroom balcony this morning, its inviting white cushion had called. Yesterday, Mark had dropped a Friday afternoon bomb. Their popular trading platform showed diminished trading volume for Dock Group Securities, suggesting financial trouble. The venerable broker would expand their in-house brokerage business by fifty percent. Mark expected a valuation and deal analysis on Monday.

He'd left his analysts crunching numbers. So far, rationalizing their marketing, broking, and analysis departments offered considerable cost savings. Dock's assets under management attracted him. However, he was pragmatic. Personalities drove deals. A slick negotiator, his CEO and friend brought passion. He balanced Mark's excitement with sober deliberation. Together, they'd built a phenomenal empire.

He'd kept FMI soaring above their industry, thinking of little else, except cars. And now Rebecca. His beautiful distraction lay two loungers away. He loved the space she'd left him. Her understanding of his crucial home had sealed their relationship. Exploring their infinite potential, she'd thrown in sexy discipline games, introducing her cheerleader uniform. He'd revisit her marvelous suggestions when her behavior was so flawless he needed an excuse to punish her. Today, her skimpy bikini demanded his attention.

Rebecca loved Sky Reach. From her sun lounger, the proud colonial mansion stood ahead, the convenient matching pool house behind. Undulating lawns unfolded around her, the pool area enclosed in a low tree border. She lowered her gaze from the shimmering blue water to her black and white check bikini. Polite panty coverage on her bottom, their sleek cut plunged between her legs. Her bandeau top emphasized each breast, a tiny neck string raising her cleavage. Vacations rare, bikinis hadn't filled her closet. She'd bought three. Today, she'd rank them by interest level, her audience two loungers away.

She knew his focus. It didn't limit her adventure. Indeed, it further challenged her bikinis to rise to the occasion. Should a bikini reach epic success, he'd punish her for distracting him. Chastising her would relieve his tension, supporting calmer contemplation. Aligning her quest with his, she'd decided her bikini-clad presence enhanced his thought space.

Picking up her kindle, she sank into her Hollywood romance. Sexy bikinis featured beside glamorous pools. Perfect poolside reading. Dropping her gaze, a pleasant vulnerability spread. Her sex warmed to her cause. Imagining he'd ordered her into her revealing, check bikini, its sleek plunge between her legs delivered solid throbs to her obedient sex.

Damien glanced at Rebecca. Slim bikini sides graced her slender hips. Fuck, she was beautiful. Staffing quantities dropped from his brain. He grabbed his phone, reviewing the numbers, ignoring the sleek curves of his girl's stunning checkered bikini. He considered the effect of scaling down Dock's analysis team. Jotting notes in his phone, he realized an entire hour had passed without distraction.

Rebecca had teased herself to distraction in her checkered bikini. Forcing herself into her novel, she'd indulged in the protagonist's ruthless selfishness. Needing the facilities, she slipped into the pool house. Checkered bikini had passed its test. She unsnapped the tight bandeau strap, freeing her breasts. Stepping from the panties, she scored it five on her ten scale. A solid start. He'd glanced several times.

Stealing minimal attention, she was building her bank of bikini knowledge. She loved his powerful thought process on bold display. Buying Dock Group Securities would generate press coverage. Often pictured in his tux, his press pictures had forced her to masturbate, imagining his ruthless power.

Styled in fresh, attention grabbing green, she returned to her sun lounger. Resting her curves on the thick white cushion, it offset her jungle print bikini to perfection. Twin side straps in white, patterned with green saw-tooth triangles, crossed high on her hips, sliding into a narrow front panel printed in green and yellow jungle leaves. Its slender shape increased its plunge between her legs. Flat straps held jungle triangles over each breast, a thin bust string spreading across her prominent cleavage. Rolling onto her side, she presented her spankable bottom for his pleasure, her narrow rear coverage providing nominal politeness.

Damien lost his focus. Combining cost structures bore no interest beside Rebecca's almost bare backside. Provocative, it deserved a sound spanking. Her ripe bottom begged for punishment. Applied hard to her half-covered cheeks, it would leave obvious marks. In the house, his gym shoe and cane were too distant. She needed swift discipline. He imagined bending her over his knee right here. She'd present her jutting bottom without resistance, accepting his decision to spank her as final. Her gorgeous compliance thrilled him. Hardening in his shorts, he ceased his inconvenient daydream.

Sensing his gaze on her bottom, Rebecca luxuriated in its admiration. Returning to her back as her hero bedded a pointless blonde, she caught his sustained gaze, proving her instincts. Smiling, she didn't interrupt his thoughts. Beneath the brilliant sunshine, their togetherness thrilled her. Her phone showed her jungle bikini had received its full hour of measured attention. She rose, slipping on her white flip-flops, protected from the sun beneath her lounger.

Her footwear slapped down the steps from the raised pool area. Crossing the extensive terrace, she entered their kitchen via the covered barbecue patio. She removed the pitcher of Jana's green smoothie from their fridge. The pool house fridge provided endless drinks. She preferred Jana's gorgeous, thick green smoothie. Carrying her prize towards the pool house, she poured two Hi-Ball glasses, placing her pitcher in the pool house fridge.

She placed his glass beside his lounger, receiving a brief nod. Returning to her lounger, she sipped the luscious green foamy liquid. Smoothing her fingers over her backside aligned her narrow, jungle green bikini bottoms. Had she received a recent caning, her narrow panties would reveal her strict discipline stripes. Forced to display her humiliation, the intoxicating pressure dampened her patterned panties. She took her empty glass into the pool house.

For the fifth time, he began reading the detailed email from his lead analyst. Her lethal bottom disappearing towards the kitchen had triggered his first restart. Her return, his second. Grateful for the delicious smoothie, he'd began his third restart until she'd strolled into the pool house, her luscious bottom decorated in forest green following her. Her precocious bikini needed his cane. Striped in fresh lines of significant pain, her natural humility might reduce her distraction.

Rated a solid seven, she stripped off her jungle print bikini. The white marble pool house bathroom extended the beautiful house design. She checked her naked curves in the mirror, disappointed in their undisciplined beauty. Her sexiness deserved his cane. Her sun-heated sex concurred, lending a determined throb to her argument. She deployed her last test.

Emerging, she ignored him, letting her bikini speak. Aqua triangles adorned her breasts. Thrilling on her slender figure, she turned its narrow V-shaped aqua back towards him. A single yellow string raced across her bare back, tying her top in place, echoed across the top of her aqua panties. Settling on her lounger, she picked up her romance. Hot pink strings ringed her hips, topping her plain panty front. Identical strings trimmed her breast triangles, tying behind her neck.

Ripped from his ruminations, he stared at her aqua bikini, trimmed in yellow and pink. Brighter than her previous perfections, its vivid color spelled disaster for his concentration. He closed his eyes, picturing Dock Group Securities as a sub brand. The inside of his eyelids played her vibrant bikini. He sighed. Spanking his girlfriend would clear her distraction potential. Respect demanded he handle her presence in a single bikini. He'd have got used to her black-and-white checkered beauty. Showcasing three different sensational bikinis was an unreasonable torture. She knew he was concentrating. His duty was clear. He rose, walking over to her lounger.

Rebecca shaded her kindle. His muscular form, in blue swim shorts, shot ruthless pleasure into her sun-drenched sex. She lowered her entertainment, pleased to be his. Smiling, she said, "How is it going?"

"Difficult," he said.

She nodded. Valuation was tricky. Views differed. Hard numbers bore less relevance than dreams. "What's the core problem?"

"You. Does the sun demand three different bikinis?"

She beamed. He'd noticed all of them.

He hardened his tone. "Your bikinis didn't change themselves. You intended to get my attention."

Her smile broadened. His hard tone portended punishment. Hope prickled her skin.

"You need correcting, Rebecca. I'm going to whip you."

He'd erased her lingering doubts. Her conscience criticized her bikini adventure. Twisting, she sat on her lounger, adopting an easy humility. "I'm sorry, Damien. I deserve it."

He drilled his gaze into her. "I'm punishing you, Rebecca. I'll whip you hard. Wearing three different, gorgeous bikinis was overkill. You know it. Pure, reckless attention grabbing. Very selfish."

She seized his compliment. Gorgeous. All three. His verdict was worth a whipping. His scolding weaved rigidity into her spine, delivering his delicious dominance.

"Follow me." He strode into their pool house.

Slipping on her flip-flops, she followed, delighted by his unforgiving demeanor. Watching him shuffle equipment in the maintenance cupboard, her spine tingled as he turned, holding a length of dark blue rope.

"I'm going to restrain you," he said. "I require your cooperation. Your whipping will hurt. This limits disobedience."

His declaration dominated her sex. Restrained, she'd lose all capacity to choose obedience. Forced upon her, its magnificent requirement felt glorious. He must intend a severity she hadn't experienced.

Exiting the pool house rear, she followed him over their undulating lawn towards the distant tree line. Veering beyond line-of-sight from the garage complex, she appreciated his discretion.

In their discrete corner, his brawny arm reached a fresh switch on a young white oak tree. Snapping it free, two swift pulls stripped its leaves. Securing his fresh switch under his arm, he ordered, "Hold out your wrists."

Stepping towards him, she raised her wrists, presenting them together. Offering her slender wrists to him spiked adrenaline. She was losing control. All control. The blue rope wrapped around her wrists. It pulled them crossed, its end dangling. Gripping her tied wrists, he led her to an older oak. He raised her arms above her, looping her dangling leash around the substantial trunk, tying it off above two low branches.

The rope spared her wrists from the rough bark. She pulled on her restraint, panic spreading.

"You have no choice, Rebecca."

His firm voice soothed her fears. Bound for her whipping, she must accept her fate. She glanced left. Switch in hand, he stood ready. She counseled herself to remain brave. Her bikini parade had caused a serious distraction. Declared selfish, she deserved her punishment.

He watched her steady her countenance. He'd never restrained her before. Beautiful in her obedience, her compliant curves hardened him. "I'm going to whip you hard, Rebecca. Bear it well." Laying his switch across her exotic bikini bottoms, her legs straightened.

His ruthless treatment heightened her desire. Bound, she was at his mercy, untrusted to obey. He didn't need her compliance. He'd whip her, regardless. Her sex throbbed its approval.

A high-pitched zip split the air. The slender switch bit into her aqua triangle. Precision sting torched her exposed flesh. Its savageness kept defining her disobedience. Ignoring her bikini, it layered fire in vicious explosions. Beyond her slim coverage, it sliced into her bare bottom. She cried, "Fuck."

The switch increased its attention. A ruthless stroke cut cruel heat into her cheeks. Her knees gave way. Hanging by her wrists, she twisted, seeking unreachable solace.

"Stay still," he ordered.

His voice planted her feet, driving honesty through her. She'd chosen to steal his attention. She'd earned her whipping. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Let me punish you, Rebecca. You need it."

Her sex celebrated his stiff order. Guilt plunged into her pain, simplifying its cruel sting. She held still, honoring him with her body. Holding herself in the firing line, she took his frustration, suffering her due. Unlimited heat encompassed her butt. Nowhere had precedence. Its rightful power suppressed her objections.

Her sting stabilized, its application stopping. Air wafted over her agony. Repelled by her heat, it circulated, losing its cooling capacity. Trussed to her tree, she said, "Sorry, Damien. I've been selfish."

He smiled. Stepping forward, he pulled her yellow bikini top tie. Falling away, it bared her back.

She gasped. Against the bark, her dangling bikini top proved her submission. His warm palm spread over her bare back, stealing focus from her burning backside. Her arms ached. His gentle touch left her back, replaced by the slender switch against her sensitive skin. Its suggestion alerted all her senses. She struggled against her binding.

"Twenty strokes on your bottom or ten on your upper back?"

She weighed her draconian choice. Fear boosted her sex's positive sentiment.

He studied her lithe shoulder blades. Delicate beauty unfolded for his joy. She could beg for mercy. He'd relent. She didn't.

"Will my back stay marked?"

"Several days. It's tender skin. It will burn like blazes for about four hours." He'd investigated whippings. Unplanned, his research had reached sudden fruition.

Her brain delivered its verdict. "I don't deserve to choose."

Her utter submission made him hard. Adjusting his uncomfortable shorts, he laid the frayed switch across her beautiful upper back.

She slowed her breaths, the ominous switch informing her of his decision.

"I'm afraid I must hurt you, Rebecca. You were very disobedient. You must carry prominent marks for your penance."

She shuddered. His words denied her pretense. This would hurt worse. Sharp sting tore across her soft back. Bitter agony spread deep. She respected his toughness. Her blatant behavior befit her conspicuous punishment. The switch flayed her tenderness, delivering her prescribed punishment. She held still, hoping she'd last. Lashes lanced lethal fire. She lost herself in their justness. She'd taunted her busy boyfriend. Visible discipline suited her behavior.

His warm body supplanted the switch, pressing into her pain. Against her butt, his hardness proved her bikini's brilliance. Above her, he untied her restraint. Released, her throbbing arms fell. Swept into his arms, she traveled in comfort to the pool house.

Laid on the cream couch, her bikini top dangling free, she ripped it off, her obedient nipples targeting him. His shorts fell. She shoved down her bikini bottoms, flinging her aqua aside. Burning into the soft cushions, she loved her pain. He'd given it to her. He'd whipped her without mercy.

Claimed by his manhood, she held his powerful body, his hardness driving deep inside her. Her thin welts rubbed the unkind couch. She panted. "No mercy," she cried.

"None," he groaned, pounding his pleasure.

Stinging beneath him, desire pooled, flooding her body. She bore her pain. His hardness gave limitless pleasure. Respect rose, replacing her agony. His ruthless thrusts overpowered her restraint. Orgasms burst. Bucking beneath him, she devoured her pleasure, draining his masculinity, until she lay replete beneath his magnificent body.

Slipping from beneath him, she showed her bare back to the bathroom mirror. Red welts angled across her delicate skin. Placed to punish her, their fierce sting delivered. Humbled by her marks, she stood tall.

He entered, watching her.

"It fucking stings," she said.

"You deserved it. You're so beautiful."

She grinned, placing her palms on his powerful chest. "Thank you for marking me. It will embarrass me, even if nobody sees it. A fitting penance."

He wrapped her in his arms. Dominoes dropped into place. His heart raced. Dock Securities Group wasn't a sub-brand of FMI. It was a luxury extension. Its ultra high net worth clients invested vast sums. Pointless cost saving would distract both businesses. They must preserve Dock, nurture it, and reach otherwise unattainable clients.

Reading his heart rate, she turned her face upwards, beaming. "You've figured it. Haven't you?"