Saturday morning Screen play, script
Merry is sitting and calls out, "SHILO!"
Shilo enters, in pajamas.
"So you're finally up? It's about time. I am going to punish you for laziness, sometime today. For now, I want you to strip, naked, and start on this list of chores."
Shilo strips, and looks at the list.
He goes to fetch a broom, and starts sweeping the floor.
He is in the kitchen, at the sink, doing dishes.
He is in the bedroom, making the bed.
He is in the bathroom, on his knees, scrubbing the toilet.
In the living room, Merry says, "Good so far. Time for a break. Go stand in the corner.
He is still in the corner.
Merry says, "It's time. Get on the bench."
Shilo gets on the bench.
Merry spreads his butt cheeks, and takes a look. "Okay, you're clean."
Then Merry applies (...... ) to his bottom.
"Get up and back into the corner, I'll say when. And you will stay naked the rest of the day. Oh, your friend George called, he said he'd be dropping by soon."
THE TEXT screen play / story
Shilo is at work. He looks at his phone. "Oh a text from my wife....." He reads aloud, "Shilo, I'm very upset about the stern tone of voice you took with me, this morning. SO, when you get home, stop in the foyer, and strip to your briefs, and stand in the corner there, with your briefs pulled down to your thighs. I will summon you to the living room when I'm ready."
Shilo has an unhappy look on his face.
He walks in the door...into the foyer... strips..and stands in corner briefs down.
FADE out in
He stands in corner.
Off camera, Merry says, "Shilo in here!"
He waddles to living room.
Merry says, "Briefs off, and over the bench." She points at it.
He does so.
She applies (cane, paddle ..) until she is satisfied.
"Now, get to that corner, hands on head. I'll let you know when you may come out."
He goes to the corner.
"And you will remain naked the rest of the evening. Oh, I have a couple of friends coming over. They should be here soon."
As this is a spanking site i love reading stories bout DD life, master/slave roles, anything erotic.
But a recent one i found very offensive, tho the "writer" made a point of them being consenting adults, having to read about sexual abuse on both men and women in a castle quite crude, sick and twisted.
I dont want to read stuff like that on a site thats centered on spanking mainly. This was adults being tortured.
I also found it odd that this story was very similar to another brilliant writer on here, in fact using same names and some names very similar. This person is trying to make out its her first story when in fact there are too many similarities to say that half of it has not been copied.
Only the fact that one person is writing a good spanking story, with many chapters, and been writing them for months, and this other person has just "written" this abusive story.
Im surprised admin has allowed it to be published. Others may enjoy reading that stuff, which is fine, personally i want erotic stories that are not half copied ideas from soneone else.
Sorry but someone has to say something about this person.
Create your own ideas, names and stories then others may enjoy them.
I shot a self spanking video a few years ago on a ladder. It wasn't a fun shoot, though, because when I rested myself over the top rung, a sharp searing pain shot through my side. I kept filming, however, and spanked myself despite the pain (I suffer for my art. LOL). The video is found here on ST as well as on You Tube.
The pain subsided somewhat, although for the next few days I was still very uncomfortable in my abdomen. I assumed I injured a rib or a muscle somehow and that I need only give it time to subside. But that wasn't the case.
After about three days of general agony, I took myself to the emergency room, where it was discovered I had an inflamed gall bladder that was near bursting. I had the necessary surgery, and afterwards my surgeon asked me how long I had been in pain before coming to the hospital. He was surprised when I told him that it was no more than 3 or 4 days. He went on to say that given the condition of the gall bladder (inflamed, full of stones, etc.) that there must have been a triggering event that "woke up" my glad bladder to alert me it was in trouble.
I didn't want to tell him I was draped over the top rung of a ladder so that I could spank myself for the camera, so I merely said that I accidentally bumped my side several days before. He said that must have been what did it, and thank goodness, because they removed it just in time.
So there you have it, a clear case of better health through spanking. :)
I was asked in a e-mail the other day this question
If you were not dominant but your husband or boyfriend wanted you to dominate him would you do it? What would he need to do to get you to do it?
I pondered that question for a long time. And this is what I come up with. I could never really know what I would do, but… because I’ve heard so many stories about women and men in just this sort of situation, I have given it a bit of thought. I wonder quite often what must it be like to be them – and, what it must be like to be their partners.
I’ll respond, but understand I’m not trying to speak for anyone else. There are some who would never be able to comfortably dominate anyone. There are others who could but may have never been exposed to the idea. I have to answer this question as someone who would fall into that latter category (because yes, I would try.)
If I were going to attempt this and if we had any hope of it being successful, there are several things I’d need from him – open communication, reasonable expectations, accountability, respect, and reassurance that no matter what, our love didn’t hang in the balance.
We would have to talk a lot. I’d want him to tell me what he wanted and needed and he would have to be equally interested in learning the same about me.
When presenting the concept to me, he would have to make certain the information was offered in a non-threatening, no-kink manner. When I was new to the idea of spanking and was exposed to things I considered at the time to be extreme, I admit it was quite unsettling. So if he came to me as a vanilla woman and asked me to do something I considered “out there”, the reaction would probably not be favorable. If on the other hand he began with something that seemed not too big of a stretch for me, I’d be much less likely to resist trying.
He absolutely could not pressure me. I know he might be tempted to or may even do it without being aware. He’d have utilize caution to make sure he didn’t, and I would need to feel it was ok to tell him when he was. I’d have to believe he would continue to love me and accept our relationship as it was if what he wanted was more than I could do.
He would actually have to let me lead. If he said, “I want you to dominate me” and then went on to tell me how… well, I would hardly be the one in charge, would I? I’m not saying I wouldn’t want him to explain his thoughts and desires to me, because I would, but.. once he did, he’d need to let go and let me be me
I am standing there naked and trembling and broken and wretched. My buttocks are tender and torn and burning and beaten.
Facing me is her. Her tanned and toned arms on her hips. Black sleeveless top. Tight jeans. Slim. Cruel blue-green eyes. Blonde. Beautiful.
We are in her front room. Snow coloured deep-pile carpet. White walls. Brass fitted wall lamps. Black leather sofa. Heavy green patterned curtains. Lighting just right. Temperature just right. Television situated just right. Everything just so. Controlled. Perfect. Perfect for her.
She looks at me and smiles and then walks over to me. She places her hands each side of my cheeks and gently raises my head. Then she wipes a tear off that has almost reached my chin.
“I enjoyed that, really enjoyed that,” she says, with a husky almost cockney accent. “You’ve never had two hundred strokes before. I wondered whether you would pass out at one point. But you did well. Very well.”
I nod and sniffle. I need her approval. No, I crave her approval.
“I can’t help the way I am, you know. Nature made me that way. I am cruel one minute and kind the next. Jekyll and Hyde. Sweet and sour. I regret nothing in life. Feel no guilt. Every decision I make is for me, and I seldom get it wrong. I love myself. Love my body. Love my, so the hypocrites say, depraved and lustful desires. I get what I can out of life and I intend to live my life to the full for as long as I can.”
She takes her hands away and adds: “I couldn’t resist the video to ‘entertain’ you whilst I caned you. Nice little touch wasn’t it? The thing is I knew you had fallen in love with me and had maybe entertained the notion of me being totally ‘exclusive’ to you. You probably thought that I would fall in love with you in return. But that ain’t going to happen. Now now. Not ever. Not with any man…”
I cast my mind back about thirty minutes. I am naked and scared and shaking, and strapped firmly to the caning bench, the caning bench she had made me pay for. I had been waiting for the first stroke of the cane to land agonisingly across my bare and vulnerable buttocks. But there had been a pause and then she had brought a kitchen chair into the room and placed it in front of me. Less than a minute later she had returned with her laptop and plonked it on the seat of the chair. I had watched her, intrigued, open the lid and select a file prior to clicking it. She had then walked behind me to pick up the long rattan cane she used to punish me with. As she did the video began to play. At this point I discerned a ‘whoosh’ and a split second later the excruciating pain of the stroke seared across my buttocks. As the agony began to wane slightly I saw on the screen a view of her bed – the camcorder obviously placed at the foot of the bed. Just at the edge of the screen I could see her taking all her clothes off. There were voices, hers and a man’s. She then administered the second stroke and when I had opened my eyes which were already watering she and the man were both nude and on the bed. Gina had then whispered in my ear, “You’re just going to love seeing this.” The third stroke had followed. And whilst I had been caned I had watched her – tanned all over, small but shapely breasts and shaved cunt - and the guy - dark and swarthy and ruggedly handsome with a big cock - caress each other’s naked bodies. He had snogged her and grabbed her crotch, she had taken his cock in her mouth and stroked the shaft. He had then gone down on her and licked her cunt and just before she came, her eyes glazed, she had smiled into the camera -smiled for me. She had screamed with the pleasure of the orgasm and thrown back her head. They had both laughed together for a moment, as though sharing some private joke, before she had then turned over and he had shagged her up the arse as his guttural grunting became a crescendo prior to the inevitable conclusion. And I had felt like shit, jealous and hurt and betrayed. And she had carried on beating me, beating me to a pulp. And when the film had finished she had started it again. And I had wept…
Back in the lounge I watch Gina smile and then let out a small chuckle. I can see that hurting me both physically and emotionally gives her great pleasure.
“I’m going to make you a nice cup of tea in a minute, but first I want to tell you something else.”
I nod automatically. Numb. Emotions scrambled. Blitzed.
“Let me you tell you this, Jules, I know how you are feeling – shit. But the fact of the matter is that you are obsessed with me and that you will never have anyone as good as me. I may be nearly forty but I’m an attractive woman, a very attractive woman. I can get pretty much any guy I want. Incidentally, the fellow in the video is married and his wife is dowdy and boring. I told him I wanted to film us shagging and he readily agreed, provided I didn’t show it to anyone else. Naturally, I lied, it’s what I do, I’m a manipulative bitch, and if he gives me any hassle I won’t hesitate to show it to his missus…”
I start to cry again.
She wanders over and puts her arm around me.
“Aw, how sweet of you Jules. But don’t worry, I’m not going to dump you. Well, not yet. You see, you’re so wonderfully… pathetic and weak. You give me lots of money… and I love spending. On clothes. On days out. On meals. On holidays. You see, for a girl who was brought up on a South London housing estate I ain’t done bad. It taught me what life was all about and how people really were, and I’ve learnt those lessons well. I use people, men mainly, and I play the system to get the most out of it because at the end of the day nobody really gives a shit about you. Well, maybe apart from a few loved ones and close friends.”
I realise that she is right. I am pathetic. I am weak. And I will do anything I can to make her happy. She can beat me and humiliate me. I will give her money. My hard earned money. My inheritance money. All of my money.
I drop to the floor, to my knees.
“I love you Gina, I will serve you in any way—”
“I know darling. I know,” she says softly. “Now, I’m just going to make you a nice cup of tea. I’ve also got some Victoria Sponge if you’d like a slice. Afterwards, I’ll wank you off. How would you like that? Mind you, it will cost you a hundred quid. Maybe I’ll even let you lick my fanny – I love oral sex. But, that will cost you another hundred quid. Deal?”
“Yes, I’d love to.”
She turns and walks out the door to the kitchen…
Once upon a time there were two little girls that played together.
Neither one cared that one would serve the other someday.
They grew up completely different yet close as can be.
Madisen or Mad as the servants liked to call her...changed.
Aby short for Abigail grew up to realize her place in this life.
Mad demanded Aby do everything for her.
Mad never hesitated to hurt Aby either with her words or her actions.
Aby prayed for the day when Mad's father...the King...would force her to marry and leave the castle permanently.
At the age of 20 years Mad was considered old so the choices were barely available to her...she would probably end up marrying a much older man.
Mad secretly envied Aby because of her beauty both inside and out which surpassed her own.
One day because of the jealously Mad had of Aby she asked her father...the powerful King...to lock the servant up and due horrific things to her.
The King never could say no to his demanding daughter who he spoiled.
After sweet, helpless Aby was taken to the Dungeon...the King looked at her beautiful body.
Aby had the prettiest face the King had ever seen before...he decided he would be her first.
Later Aby was savaged by her former friend's evil father...the King.
She was an innocent...Aby had never even been alone with a man because of her station in life as a servant...though 20 yrs of age.
The King decided to share Aby with his friends...they passed her around like she was their personal toy.
When he finished and her little body had been used and beaten in every way the King decided to let Aby go free.
Aby could barely walk. She was battered inside and out...broken...alone...homeless.
A Knight named Ezra followed her...he saved Aby.
He took care of her until she was healed physically...sadly it would take much longer for Aby to heal emotionally.
After a month they made plans to get revenge on the evil...ruthless...King and his shrew of a daughter.
Back at the castle Mad was not happy...she felt Aby was not tortured enough.
Mad wished she had been there to see her father take Aby's virginity in the worst way.
Laughing in such a sinister tone...Mad smiled because at least she was now the prettiest in the castle.
Finally Aby and her beloved Knight with all his friends that detested the King and his mean spirited daughter arrived.
They stormed the castle and proceeded to kill everyone...except the innocent servants of course.
After they infilitrated and conquered they took the King and his vile daughter to the Dungeon.
Aby was no longer the victim...the roles were reversed with her tormentors.
Aby watched while Ezra ordered the King to be violated just as she had been.
He screamed over and over as some big wooden thing was shoved up his ass.
Aby had his penis and many others shoved in all of her orifices so she felt no sympathy for the King.
After that Ezra ordered the King to be beaten...since Aby barely lived after her beatings by him.
Mad had to watch her father being tortured in the same way she ordered Aby be treated by him.
After the King's death Aby looked at her former childhood friend Mad and said now it is your turn to suffer.
Aby watched as Mad was brutally used just as she had been.
Mad was a virgin...at least they both lost their virginity in the same cruel way.
Just as Aby had been...Mad was passed around from man to man to be violated and beaten again and again.
Since the King did not kill Aby they decided to let Mad live as a poor...homeless...shell of a person.
This once very proud and over indulged 20 yr old girl who earned nothing but felt she was owed everything just because she was the daughter of a King...was now unimportant...Mad mattered not.
As Abby was walking away she looked back at Mad and asked why...why did you order me to be violated and beaten in the first place?
Mad spit at Aby and said because you were better at everything...smarter...prettier...I hated you.
Aby said I only had the kindness in my heart and friendship to offer you...but I would have given it happily.
Having to say something cruel in response Mad called Aby a sassy bitch.
Aby looked at her and laughed as she said I am definitely sassy...but you...Mad...are the bitch.
Walking away once again Aby could hear the crying sounds of Mad feeling sorry for herself.
Aby looked at Ezra...her lover...her hero...and smiled...it is over and I am truly free...happy...loved...
A fairy tale with a twisted ending but still a happy ending...at least for sweet but sassy Aby.
Unfortunately, under the reign of King Edward, many of his servants had been violated by him.
Many of the women became pregnant with the King's child and were forced to leave the castle...so there was no happy ending for them.
Aby and the Knight Ezra and his friends also Knights under King Edward were the only ones who ever fought back.
Once the news spread that the evil King was dead...they all rejoiced because at last justice was served.
The news of his daughter being left abused and destitute further increased the joy of the victory for all.
Far away...King Gerald heard the news and celebrated too since he hated the man who should never have been born to be a King.
(This picture below would be Ezra and Aby...such a beautiful couple...)
(The picture below would be Mad with her raven dark hair and soul which she inherited both from her father...the King...who is now dead...)
*Perfect quote for this short story...*
I have recently moved to Atlanta and I have decided to stay for awhile id love to meet some Georgia or from where ever new female spankees who need to be kept in line like I love to do :) if your interested please message me and you tell me about your self if I like what I hear you can come over right away wouldn't wanna keep me waiting would you ?
I may be different to a lot of Dom's but I believe having a Submissive submit is an honour and should be earned. It doesn't happen overnight.
1. There must be respect and that works both ways
2. You must fully trust each other
3. you both should have fun and enjoyment or why bother.
#food4thought Winners deal with the truth, losers choose lies and omissions. A successful life is lived truthfully with honesty. #StrictMotivation
Strict Motivation offers help reaching your worthy life goals, through working, goal oriented real life coaching, Easily affordable. Strict Motivation is created to work Long Distance, from the convenience of your home and tailored to your specific needs, including as much discretion as you desire. Your gender identity or age are of no objection to Me. Strict Motivation is a holistic step by step approach. My Successrate with willing people tops 90%. no tricks, just get better with #StrictMotivation (c)StrictMotivation@yahoo.com
Ok moving in past what happened today... Not going to talk about it again... Had a few friends on here talk with me so I am doing a lot better. I released the pain MYSELF and feel better ... And no I didn't cut witch I am proud of. Thaught about IT but didn't ... !!!!!!!
Sneaked on my phone at work even tho its a no no n delibertly didn't try to hide where I was (here) even tho I knew two co workers looked over my shoulder... one laughed n walked Away laughing... the other sucked in her breath, swatted my arm n laughed too... let's see where this goes hahahha
so I am writing this blog just to get what's in my heart out before it explodes.... When I was a baby my bio mom threw me away like trash lived my life like u wasn't good enough like I didn't matter. I am 50. And sometimes still feel like a little girl .I meet her when I was 30. And was around her 3 months. Then never looked back. I have never forgiven her for what she did u. Anger I have towards her is so deep and hurts and is so very real. Well here is the kicker . I found out she died so now my pain is worse... My anger is just wanting to pour out of me BUT can't. If u scream. Everyone in my world will hear me... .. I am not sad she died that's the scary part. I am so angry. Wow ... I can't believe how deep this is in my heart. There is no way I could do to my kids what she did to me. No way in hell... I am not going to the service . Not saying good bye to her.. is that wrong of me ... ? I don't think so.. she didn't care when I was a baby so now I don't care.. screw her... Now she will never abuse another baby again.. she is gone !!!!!!!
Her eyes, like twin emerald hued laser beams, had bored into me. Mesmerised me.
It had been oppressively hot and my eyes were sore from the smoke. There were far too many people and the music was screwed up way too loud. And if it hadn’t been for the chance of pulling a bird I wouldn't have been there.
She was leaning provocatively with a self-assurance that was almost intimidating against a pillar and supping casually from a glass. Slim and 'dressed to kill' in a skimpy black number.
I’d fancied myself a bit of a 'wolf' back then so I’d meandered over, and for my own self-assurance I’d checked my reflection briefly in the mirrored surface of the walls: neat, well-groomed auburn hair, large brown eyes, strong features and a tallish athletic frame. I was also well presented, groomed, in an expensive patterned Midnight-Blue shirt with pressed, well fitting, tight around my arse, black trousers and shiny polished black shoes. Clothes define a person. Define me. I could still just discern the Zendiq aftershave I had slapped on my cheeks prior to leaving the house. I’d looked good, smelt good and had felt good. Very good.
I’d closed in on her. Cut off her retreat. Predator and prey.
Full and wavy raven locks had cascaded onto the exquisite exposed ivory flesh of her shoulders and had framed her oval face which was pale yet healthy and gifted with high cheekbones. A small, straight and cute nose had sat atop a mouth that was wide and expansive with glossed lips. Her eyes...
“Like what you see?” she had said, with a lilting Irish accent.
Naturally, I had expected to speak first and had almost been taken out of my stride. “Yes, I do rather. And what I hear—“
The rich green hue of her eyes, the dark depths of her large pupils, had drawn me in like the dangerous swirling waters of a whirlpool.
“My name is Jules, Jules Black.” I’d suddenly felt awkward. Gauche.
She’d smiled, reassuringly and had replied, “I’m Maria,” she had then paused significantly, mysteriously and not a little teasingly before adding, “It is all that you are required to know.”
I’d understood. I’d thought.
We’d talked and she had reminisced, longingly, of Eire. Its landscapes, the people, the music, the myths, and the rich literature. Her family and growing up. I had explained my work in a laboratory, my career aspirations. Shared happy memories from my childhood. Funny stories.
As the evening had drawn on, I had warmed to her as a person. I liked her. I could have loved her.
And then we were on the dance floor. The lights dimmed. Slowly rotating to Three Times a Lady and her slender bare arms wrapped tight around my torso. Me erect.
And then I’d kissed her sweet lips and had slipped my tongue in her mouth...
But she had gently pulled away and for an instant I had feared rejection before she whispered in my ear, "Let's go," just as the music had begun to fade out.
I had caught the eye of one of my friends at the peripheral of the dance floor. He had read the situation and knew I wouldn't be requiring a lift back.
We had then passed out of the club's entrance into the comparative chill of the night.
"You came here alone?" I had been curious.
"I have a few I chat with here, but yes," she had partially answered.
There had been a pause in the conversation and I had listened to the waves breaking softly on the beach; the club was but a road away from the shore. The air had been still and the swell of the sea, gentle and rhythmic.
She had walked a little ahead of me; maybe she hadn’t wanted to draw too much attention to us. She had moved with poise and I had wondered if she exercised, perhaps played tennis or swam.
We reached her car, a racing green Mini 1275 GT, and in a reversal of gender chivalry she’d unlocked the passenger door for me. A strong aroma of rose petal had greeted me from the air freshener dangling from the interior mirror.
I’d squeezed myself into the black-leather bucket seats and had drawn the inertia reel seatbelt across my chest before fastening it. She then started the engine and sped quickly out of the car park and onto the main road.
She driven nippily and I had admired the fluid movements of her limbs as she had shifted gear and handled the sporty steering wheel. I had hoped she wouldn't attract the attention of the law as she was, I had suspected, rather over the limit.
We’d travelled fast out of the small seaside town and into the country with the hedgerows and trees eerily illuminated by the cold lunar light.
After a while we’d turned into a new looking road that led shortly to the prestigious 'Garden Village'; a recent development. I doubted that the four or so miles had taken any longer than seven or eight minutes.
Maria had swung the Mini onto a drive and had stopped a few feet short of a double garage. She’d killed the engine and then slipped out of the vehicle.
The residence had been large, detached, and like all the surrounding properties, new and in the style, I believe, Neo-Georgian. Everything about it said, money; and ‘fuck you’.
Only the distant hoot of an owl had disturbed the peace as Maria had slipped the key silently into the lock. The door had opened into a sumptuous lobby and she had directed me through to the lounge.
"Would you be liking a coffee… first?" she had smiled wickedly.
I had merely stood there gaping at the opulence: oil paintings spotlighted by brass wall lamps; expensive furnishings; curtains with gold braided pull cords. It was casual wealth taken by granted by the occupants. Or maybe that was the image they sought to project.
"Two sugars and cream, please." I had followed her into the kitchen.
I had noticed a silver photo frame lying face down on a window ledge. I had sneakily picked it up. It was a snap of a bald, ruddy-faced businessman with heavy jowls at a 'bash' of some kind. I now knew why I was there.
Her back had been to me as she had prepared the filter coffee. I’d stolen up behind her and had lightly kissed the side of her delicious neck. She had immediately swivelled round and had said, "I'm going to give you what you so desire... me," she drew breath, "but before anything you will have to attend to wayward Maria.”
We had moved into the lounge and I’d sat gingerly in an armchair being extra careful not to spill coffee onto the plush cardinal-red velvet covers. She was on a sofa - her toned legs folded under her.
We had supped at our drinks and excitement had coursed through my every nerve. This was what life was all about.
"There's no need to worry. He is in Dubai and won't be returning for a month. Don’t you think I'm rather naughty for bringing a man back," she’d sucked in air, "and do you not think I deserve to be punished?"
How could I resist?
We had finished our drinks and she had asked me to follow her.
We had entered the master bedroom which unsurprisingly was as ostentatious as the rest of the house.
In front of me, Maria had stopped and then to my utter amazement pulled her dress over her head in one motion with her lustrous dark locks falling back into place onto her bare shoulders as though in slow motion. She was now standing in front of me naked and absolutely shameless.
“What you are going to do now Jules is to strip off yourself and then you are going to beat me first with a plimsoll and then cane me hard on my buttocks. After you have spanked me with the plimsoll you are going to attach clamps to my nipples. When I’m ready - I’ll tell you - you can fuck me from behind. There’s no need to concern yourself with pleasuring me as I’ll come anyway. Have you got that?”
“Yes,” I had replied, and had thought that this was one uncomplicated woman who knew exactly what she wanted in life.
“Not get your clothes off, Jules, and try not to ejaculate before you fuck me. I like cocks hard. Really hard.”
As Maria had padded over to the corner of the spacious room I had swiftly taken all my clothes off. She had then lifted the lid of what looked to be an antique Ottoman chest and had taken out a small white plimsoll, a school cane and some shiny steel nipple clamps. She picked up the gym shoe walked over to me and plonked it into my sweaty hand. “I want you to smack me with it as hard as you can. Leave about twenty seconds between strokes so that I can savour the pain fully. Don’t worry about anyone hearing; the house is well insulated and detached.”
She then walked over to a similarly ornate chair, bent over and placed the palms of her hands on the seat. I then positioned myself parallel to her and savoured myself her undraped form which was pale, lithe and taut. Her cunt was shaved smooth and enticingly thrust out.
I had hesitated for a second but then thought, 'What the hell' and had brought the plimsoll hard and swiftly down on to her bare left buttock. There was a loud 'thwack' yet she didn't flinch. But straightaway, there was a reddening imprint of the sole upon her flesh.
She had thrust out her posterior even further as she relished the impact of the second blow, which I delivered with even greater force. She had gasped and already, her left buttock was beginning to purple. I then switched to the right and gave her two satisfyingly hard swats in succession – she had trembled but I had given her another three hard double-whacks on each cheek ignoring her instructions to leave time between swats.
Each blow had caused her to sway forward before she had returned to the punishment position and her previously white skin was now raw. I administered another dozen or so before she said breathlessly, “Cane me now... and don’t forget the clamps.”
She’d straightened up and turned to me, her pretty face flushed, and had kissed me. “You’re doing a good job.” She then stared at me plaintively with her beautiful green eyes for a second as I placed the plimsoll back on the chest. I then picked up the steel toothed clamps and as I did she thrust her large firm breasts towards me, her nipples dark and engorged. To each nipple in turn I watched as they bit deeply into the dark sensitive flesh causing her to wince. She then embraced the discomfort with fortitude - she knew what was to come – before swivelling round and assuming the punishment position once again.
I remember ‘weighing’ the curve handled cane in my right hand and again studying the almost sculpted form of her nude body. I noticed the tiny little dark hairs on her toned arms and the cute little mole on the small of her back.
Without any further delay I had swung the cane down in an arc with a whoosh and then a 'crack' as it struck her skin.
"Uh," she had uttered.
A ruddy ridge had appeared instantly, and my god it must have stung.
I then gave her another, slightly harder I felt and I’d watched with twisted satisfaction as her fingers had clutched at the fabric of the chair. Yet she had suffered in silence.
She shuffled position slightly in anticipation of the third stroke. Her tight bum was scarlet and purple but now with two deeper purple stripes overlaid.
I had then raised and brought down the cane another fifteen times upon her buttocks. I had observed her body shudder with the agony, her clamped breasts sway under her. Her labia was pink and swollen with her juices. I kind of felt sorry for her but it was what she craved and lived for. She was a masochist, a pain slut who pitted pain against pleasure before the final triumph of ecstasy.
After another six she was shaking and wretched and broken and I feared for her.
“Fuck me now, do it hard, do it fast. Take me, whilst it still hurts!" she'd suddenly cried out.
And I did. I was as hard as I had ever been in my life before. Still bent over the chair I had easily penetrated her from behind. Immediately, her internal muscles had seemed to powerfully grip and caress my shaft. She had moaned but this time in anticipation of pleasure. I had felt the spasmodic contractions as she had attained orgasm and screamed out almost simultaneously as my cock had exploded shooting my hot spunk into her cunt, my fingers reflexively tightening around the naked firm flesh of her upper arms.
Her body then went limp and she nearly fell onto the chair taking me with her. She then turned and faced me, her face red and sweating and her eyes watering before kissing me sweetly on the lips. "Thanks," she said; was all she said. And I understood.
I had dressed, without a word, still dazed and had then headed for the door – she had made no move to stop me. Before I placed my hand on the brass door handle I had turned and blown her a kiss before exiting. But it felt cheap. Ungracious. Corny.
I then let myself out into the moonlight night and walked the eight miles home. It took just over two hours.
About six months later I thought I saw her in the high street. I’m not certain she recognised me; or would have wanted to have recognised me.
She appeared older, about mid-thirties. She was still beautiful, still had style, but she didn’t look happy. There was a poignancy about her. About me. About life.
I will never forget her though.
Mr. Stern warmed Samantha's nicely plump fanny to a deep plumb color, whacking her tender, wet skin, with the big, round bath brush. He found the only unmarked surface, in the hollow between her legs. He used his large hand to push the sobbing maiden, farther over the stool, while at the same time, pulling apart her cheeks. He insinuated the brush between the globes with careful aim. He used the handle of the brush to color in the pale patch, making her howl. It was delightful. Her bottom, previously bruised, now was decorated with a series of round, raised, red circles, that overlayed the violet background. Her buttocks, was a colorful tapestry of layered markings, which he admired, lustfully. He finished her off, by plunging his rigid shaft, fully inside her. He felt the end of her tunnel with his tip. His hips pulled her hot bottom, tightly against him. He used his grip on her hips, to grind her pelvis around him, sending her hurling into oblivion. Her sobs turned to moans and she swallowed him up, whole. It took every bit of his self control not to erupt, but he withdrew and calmed himself. He would be ready for more, and wanted to hide his passion, for a big finale, edging closer and closer to the finish line.
Samantha was limp, and wet, having just emerged from the hot shower, when he turned her on end, and began battering her behind. The impaling of her treasure cove, left her breathless and shaking. The withdrawal from the pills, was catching up. Her bottom been filled with soapy, warm water, cleaning her out from the inside. She'd been scrubbed and beaten and firmly banged. The fight had gone out of her, for now.
Mr. Stern was content to let her rest. He had other adventures in mind. Having completed his administrative responsibilities, and his baby sitting duties, he felt free to move on to other matters. The Dragon Lodge Mid Summer
Festival was coming soon. It was a week long event. This year, He was charged with organizing some of the entertainment for his brothers. They would be mentoring the new lodge initiates, into the fold. Little did they know, that they would face their own bit of hazing, before tasting the delicate tidbits, he had in store. Mistress Raven and Master Poe would be demonstrating, some techniques to the young boys, or rather on the young boys.
They would have to receive, before learning to give. It was a tradition of the lodge, meant to keep them cognizant of the limits, they must respect when punishing a subject. Some might think the ordeal a bit brutal, but it had survived generations.
Not every boy was subjected to every punishment. There was a pecking order, of power, at the lodge. But the boys of the lowliest members would most certainly, be part of the entertainment. The more powerful members, could elect or decline participation in some areas. But all their tender bottoms would be used or abused, before the Fair concluded, with the picnic. It was only then, that the Fair princesses would attend.
Dowries would be paid, and matches made, by the powerful elders. The young princes would be very respectful of the daughters. They had been carefully raised to be ideal companions to the future power brokers. They came from the best families... Powerful families.
Recordings of many of the activities, kept the new members in line, but no one had ever dared divulge the lodge secrets. These wealthy men were unforgiving and could be ruthless. They could also open the doors to prosperity and success.
Stern rubbed his hands together, excited to begin. He'd be meeting with Mistress Raven and Master Poe, to discuss this year's events. The Netherworld of the Dragon Lodge was another relm, one of unusual delicacies and sensations - a delicious den of iniquity. He couldn't wait to begin.
Mr. Stern, led the shakey kneed Samantha, back to the punishment chamber, and up into a large padded table. She had a soft pillow, a soft cozy blanket and a black and blue bottom. She would sleep, no doubt, on her tummy. Mr. King was very clear. Her bottom should never have a chance to cool off, for very long. She was here to be punished and she had much ahead of her, before they would be through. She might, even be used at the lodge, as another item on the buffet. The members' appetite for variety was endless & this was the event of the year.
She would require careful grooming, to perform as expected. They would be giving her very close and personal instruction, in preparation of the event. The judge who had stayed her sentence, and entrusted her custody into Mr. King's able hands, would be attending. Stern knew his taste. He would enjoy partaking in her delights.
He glanced at his watch, and left quickly. His clothes were damp and his hair tousled. He locked Samantha away. He passed the houseman, bringing her tray, and bounded up the stairs for a quick shower and change of clothes. He wondered what his guests might offer him, as possibilities for the fair. He might get to nibble on some hor d'oeuvres and he hadn't spoiled his appetite!!
i'm walking outside in the open air on the mountain with no one around. So i thought, i'm completely naked. Someone walks up to me. Male or female, and ask what i was doing. I started to run but trip. They caught me a gave me the best spanking ever. With hand, belt, and nice good cane. After the spanking they take me back to their camp and punish me some more tell i scream to stop. One day i hope my dream comes true