With one eye glancing at the morning paper, Darren stirred his teacup, placed it to his lips, and took a small sip. Suddenly, he grimaced, spitting it back into the cup before glaring at his girlfriend. "Really, Christie? Salt in the sugar bowl again? Aren't you far too old for those childish pranks?"
"Why, Darren, whatever do you mean?" the petite redhead said, batting her eyelashes and trying to look innocent. "I haven't done anything!"
"Oh, so the salt just climbed into the bowl all on its own?" he said, pouring the ruined tea into the sink and making himself a new cup. "Well, if any more salt should find itself in the sugar bowl, or any similar antics, a certain mischievous little prankster is going to find herself over my knee, having her bottom smacked. Is that clear?"
Christie started at the unexpected warning, blushing as she tried to return her boyfriend's glare. This was a new side to her gentle giant; he had never said anything like this to her before. "You're not funny," she muttered.
"Neither are you. The difference is, I'm not trying to be," he told her firmly. "I'm not joking. If you're going to act like a child, I'm going to treat you like one. And that means giving you what you deserve – a good, hard spanking."
She folded her arms in front of her chest, scoffing at his absurd threat. "You wouldn't dare."
He leaned in close, with a stern look on his face that caused her to avert her eyes and made her heart beat rapidly. "Try me and see what happens," he suggested in a cold tone.
Christie had butterflies in her stomach, and there was an unexpected tingling between her legs that told her that she should, in fact, try him and see what he would do. Part of her wanted to see more of this sterner, scarier Darren.
A few days later, as they sat at the breakfast table, Darren was making himself his usual morning cup of tea. Having placed the teabag in the cup and poured the water, he reached for the sugar bowl, before suspicion made him hesitate. He glanced at Christie, who was sitting there looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but there was something about her expression that made him mistrustful.
He held the bowl to his nose and confirmed that it smelled like sugar. He dropped a few grains into his palm and licked them, confirming that it tasted like sugar. Satisfied that it WAS sugar, he dropped a spoonful into the cup, stirred it, and took a sip.
And that's when he discovered that someone had replaced the tea in the bag with gravy granules.
He spat the liquid out, scowling at Christie, who didn't even attempt to hide her grin. "You should have seen the look on your face," she giggled.
He stood up, towering over her. She stopped giggling; the expression on his face made a shiver run down her back, ending in the same tingling between her legs she'd felt the last time she saw that look.
"I guess you thought it was a good idea to test me," he said in a low whisper that was almost drowned out by the beating of her heart. "You're about to find out how wrong you are."
He grabbed her wrists, effortlessly pulling her to her feet. Before she could react, he'd sat down in the now-vacant chair, jerking her forward so that she fell across his lap. She gasped as she landed across his thighs, her head down towards the carpet and her bottom lifted across his knee. Her eyes widened as the first smacks landed on the seat of her skirt. "Darren! What are you doing!?" she squealed.
He sighed. "You can't possibly be this dense! I tell you that I'm going to spank your bottom if you keep playing pranks. When you choose to ignore my warnings and prank me anyway, I pull you across my knee and start smacking your bottom. What do you THINK I'm doing? Playing golf?" He delivered a hard set of slaps to the lower parts of her bottom, causing her to wriggle and wince.
"You can't do this!" she protested. "I'm a grown woman!" She tried to stand up, but he placed his hand at the small of her back and easily held her down.
"And it's time you started acting like one – I'm tired of your childish antics," he scolded. "You haven't listened to me so far, but maybe you'll listen when your bottom is bright red and burning, and you're standing in the corner with your hands on your head." And he flipped up her short skirt, starting to spank the seat of her black satin panties.
The slaps grew harder and faster, and the sting made Christie squirm. She tried to reach her hand back to protect her sore seat, but he easily caught her wrist and held it to her back. He was too strong for her to wriggle free, so she knew that she was completely at his mercy.
She was bent over his lap, firmly held in place, bouncing and bucking as he spanked her poor bottom. She could feel tears at the edges of her eyes; this was painful, it was humiliating, and it was undoubtedly the sexiest thing she had ever experienced
When she realized just how much she was enjoying herself, she couldn't believe it at first; why was this sexy? It hurt like nothing she'd ever experienced! But somehow, bending her over his knee and beating her butt was the best thing Darren had ever done to her, and she wanted it to go on forever. Her head swam, and the throbbing in her behind was matched by the one between her legs. She barely managed to avoid groaning with disappointment when he stopped spanking her, resting his hand on her burning backside, but his next words took her breath away.
"I think that's enough of a warm-up, don't you?" he said, grabbing the waistband of her panties. "Time to bare your bottom for the main event." And he started to peel them down. She whimpered a bit, but didn't dare to protest – that might discourage him, which was the last thing she wanted right now.
As he continued to spank her, his hand flattening her sweet cheeks with every firm slap, she had to stifle a moan. God, it hurt so good! She couldn't let him know how she really felt – but he had to know, didn't he? Couldn't he see how wet she was?
Her cheeks were now bright red and very sore, but though the tears were pouring down her face, her enjoyment only grew. He scolded her as his firm hand moved from cheek to cheek, but she stubbornly refused to apologize as she hung her head to hide the grin on her face.
Finally, she reached her crescendo, and with a moan that would no longer allow itself to be contained, she arched her back in the most wonderful orgasm of her life so far.
As she lay panting across his knee, entirely spent, it took her a minute before she realized he'd stopped spanking her. She glanced over her shoulder, nervous about how he'd take it now that he knew the truth, and she couldn't help but giggle at the shellshocked expression on his face. Her enjoyment had clearly been a complete surprise to him, and she felt an urge to hug him, kiss his forehead and tell him everything was going to be alright.
"So," she said saucily, wriggling her bottom enticingly. "What happens now?"
Five months later, Darren leaned over and woke his girlfriend with a gentle kiss on the lips and a not-so-gentle pat on her backside. "Good morning, sweetheart." He'd just returned from his morning run, so he had that sweaty smell that she somehow found appealing. Darren sat down on the side of the bed and patted his lap. "Now fetch your hairbrush and climb over my knee, so we can start your day."
She groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "Do we have to?" she pleaded. "You know it's hard for me to sit down at work."
"Now, now, no whining," he chided. "You know that you start acting up if you don't get at least one good rump roasting per day, so it's better to get it over early, don't you think?"
"No, I don't," she grumbled, rubbing her bottom in anticipation of the sting she was about to feel.
He tutted. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want a spanking."
She met his gaze and briefly considered doing it, just to see how he'd react, but she couldn't. She could never lie to him – not anymore. She decided to switch tactics, instead. "Do you have to use the hairbrush, though?" She pouted. "It stings too much. Can't you use your hand instead?"
He shook his head. "We don't have time for a proper spanking with my hand, I'm afraid. Long, slow morning spankings are only for the weekends – unless you want me to start waking you half an hour earlier?"
"Definitely not," she grimaced, causing him to chuckle.
"Well, then. Fetch the brush and bend over my knee, before I decide you need the belt as well."
With a petulant look on her face, she picked up the large, heavy wooden hairbrush he'd bought for her birthday the month before. She handed it to her grinning boyfriend, and she sighed as she placed herself over his lap. Soon, he'd pulled her adorable pyjamas bottoms down to her knees, and the hard back of the brush was patting against her soft posterior. She flinched, her cheeks clenching and unclenching as they waited for the onslaught.
"Ready or not, here it comes," he announced cheerily before lifting the brush and cracking it firmly down on her quivering cheeks, causing her to howl and kick her legs.
As she squirmed over his lap, squealing indignant protests that always fell on deaf ears, Christie had to admit a few things. First of all, Darren had proven himself to be an excellent spanker – maybe a little TOO good for her taste. His sterner side was now fully developed.
Second, her behaviour had certainly approved. She was never late for work anymore, she'd stopped leaving a mess in the kitchen, and she couldn't remember the last time she played a prank on him. Every time she came up with one, she remembered the cane he kept in the cupboard, and she shivered and managed to resist the urge.
Third, no matter how much she squealed and squirmed, pleaded and protested, kicked and carried on, she enjoyed every minute of her morning spankings – and most of the other spankings he gave her. Even though they made it hard to sit down afterwards, she wouldn't give them up for anything in the world.
"Why, Darren, whatever do you mean?" the petite redhead said, batting her eyelashes and trying to look innocent. "I haven't done anything!"
"Oh, so the salt just climbed into the bowl all on its own?" he said, pouring the ruined tea into the sink and making himself a new cup. "Well, if any more salt should find itself in the sugar bowl, or any similar antics, a certain mischievous little prankster is going to find herself over my knee, having her bottom smacked. Is that clear?"
Christie started at the unexpected warning, blushing as she tried to return her boyfriend's glare. This was a new side to her gentle giant; he had never said anything like this to her before. "You're not funny," she muttered.
"Neither are you. The difference is, I'm not trying to be," he told her firmly. "I'm not joking. If you're going to act like a child, I'm going to treat you like one. And that means giving you what you deserve – a good, hard spanking."
She folded her arms in front of her chest, scoffing at his absurd threat. "You wouldn't dare."
He leaned in close, with a stern look on his face that caused her to avert her eyes and made her heart beat rapidly. "Try me and see what happens," he suggested in a cold tone.
Christie had butterflies in her stomach, and there was an unexpected tingling between her legs that told her that she should, in fact, try him and see what he would do. Part of her wanted to see more of this sterner, scarier Darren.
A few days later, as they sat at the breakfast table, Darren was making himself his usual morning cup of tea. Having placed the teabag in the cup and poured the water, he reached for the sugar bowl, before suspicion made him hesitate. He glanced at Christie, who was sitting there looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but there was something about her expression that made him mistrustful.
He held the bowl to his nose and confirmed that it smelled like sugar. He dropped a few grains into his palm and licked them, confirming that it tasted like sugar. Satisfied that it WAS sugar, he dropped a spoonful into the cup, stirred it, and took a sip.
And that's when he discovered that someone had replaced the tea in the bag with gravy granules.
He spat the liquid out, scowling at Christie, who didn't even attempt to hide her grin. "You should have seen the look on your face," she giggled.
He stood up, towering over her. She stopped giggling; the expression on his face made a shiver run down her back, ending in the same tingling between her legs she'd felt the last time she saw that look.
"I guess you thought it was a good idea to test me," he said in a low whisper that was almost drowned out by the beating of her heart. "You're about to find out how wrong you are."
He grabbed her wrists, effortlessly pulling her to her feet. Before she could react, he'd sat down in the now-vacant chair, jerking her forward so that she fell across his lap. She gasped as she landed across his thighs, her head down towards the carpet and her bottom lifted across his knee. Her eyes widened as the first smacks landed on the seat of her skirt. "Darren! What are you doing!?" she squealed.
He sighed. "You can't possibly be this dense! I tell you that I'm going to spank your bottom if you keep playing pranks. When you choose to ignore my warnings and prank me anyway, I pull you across my knee and start smacking your bottom. What do you THINK I'm doing? Playing golf?" He delivered a hard set of slaps to the lower parts of her bottom, causing her to wriggle and wince.
"You can't do this!" she protested. "I'm a grown woman!" She tried to stand up, but he placed his hand at the small of her back and easily held her down.
"And it's time you started acting like one – I'm tired of your childish antics," he scolded. "You haven't listened to me so far, but maybe you'll listen when your bottom is bright red and burning, and you're standing in the corner with your hands on your head." And he flipped up her short skirt, starting to spank the seat of her black satin panties.
The slaps grew harder and faster, and the sting made Christie squirm. She tried to reach her hand back to protect her sore seat, but he easily caught her wrist and held it to her back. He was too strong for her to wriggle free, so she knew that she was completely at his mercy.
She was bent over his lap, firmly held in place, bouncing and bucking as he spanked her poor bottom. She could feel tears at the edges of her eyes; this was painful, it was humiliating, and it was undoubtedly the sexiest thing she had ever experienced
When she realized just how much she was enjoying herself, she couldn't believe it at first; why was this sexy? It hurt like nothing she'd ever experienced! But somehow, bending her over his knee and beating her butt was the best thing Darren had ever done to her, and she wanted it to go on forever. Her head swam, and the throbbing in her behind was matched by the one between her legs. She barely managed to avoid groaning with disappointment when he stopped spanking her, resting his hand on her burning backside, but his next words took her breath away.
"I think that's enough of a warm-up, don't you?" he said, grabbing the waistband of her panties. "Time to bare your bottom for the main event." And he started to peel them down. She whimpered a bit, but didn't dare to protest – that might discourage him, which was the last thing she wanted right now.
As he continued to spank her, his hand flattening her sweet cheeks with every firm slap, she had to stifle a moan. God, it hurt so good! She couldn't let him know how she really felt – but he had to know, didn't he? Couldn't he see how wet she was?
Her cheeks were now bright red and very sore, but though the tears were pouring down her face, her enjoyment only grew. He scolded her as his firm hand moved from cheek to cheek, but she stubbornly refused to apologize as she hung her head to hide the grin on her face.
Finally, she reached her crescendo, and with a moan that would no longer allow itself to be contained, she arched her back in the most wonderful orgasm of her life so far.
As she lay panting across his knee, entirely spent, it took her a minute before she realized he'd stopped spanking her. She glanced over her shoulder, nervous about how he'd take it now that he knew the truth, and she couldn't help but giggle at the shellshocked expression on his face. Her enjoyment had clearly been a complete surprise to him, and she felt an urge to hug him, kiss his forehead and tell him everything was going to be alright.
"So," she said saucily, wriggling her bottom enticingly. "What happens now?"
Five months later, Darren leaned over and woke his girlfriend with a gentle kiss on the lips and a not-so-gentle pat on her backside. "Good morning, sweetheart." He'd just returned from his morning run, so he had that sweaty smell that she somehow found appealing. Darren sat down on the side of the bed and patted his lap. "Now fetch your hairbrush and climb over my knee, so we can start your day."
She groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "Do we have to?" she pleaded. "You know it's hard for me to sit down at work."
"Now, now, no whining," he chided. "You know that you start acting up if you don't get at least one good rump roasting per day, so it's better to get it over early, don't you think?"
"No, I don't," she grumbled, rubbing her bottom in anticipation of the sting she was about to feel.
He tutted. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want a spanking."
She met his gaze and briefly considered doing it, just to see how he'd react, but she couldn't. She could never lie to him – not anymore. She decided to switch tactics, instead. "Do you have to use the hairbrush, though?" She pouted. "It stings too much. Can't you use your hand instead?"
He shook his head. "We don't have time for a proper spanking with my hand, I'm afraid. Long, slow morning spankings are only for the weekends – unless you want me to start waking you half an hour earlier?"
"Definitely not," she grimaced, causing him to chuckle.
"Well, then. Fetch the brush and bend over my knee, before I decide you need the belt as well."
With a petulant look on her face, she picked up the large, heavy wooden hairbrush he'd bought for her birthday the month before. She handed it to her grinning boyfriend, and she sighed as she placed herself over his lap. Soon, he'd pulled her adorable pyjamas bottoms down to her knees, and the hard back of the brush was patting against her soft posterior. She flinched, her cheeks clenching and unclenching as they waited for the onslaught.
"Ready or not, here it comes," he announced cheerily before lifting the brush and cracking it firmly down on her quivering cheeks, causing her to howl and kick her legs.
As she squirmed over his lap, squealing indignant protests that always fell on deaf ears, Christie had to admit a few things. First of all, Darren had proven himself to be an excellent spanker – maybe a little TOO good for her taste. His sterner side was now fully developed.
Second, her behaviour had certainly approved. She was never late for work anymore, she'd stopped leaving a mess in the kitchen, and she couldn't remember the last time she played a prank on him. Every time she came up with one, she remembered the cane he kept in the cupboard, and she shivered and managed to resist the urge.
Third, no matter how much she squealed and squirmed, pleaded and protested, kicked and carried on, she enjoyed every minute of her morning spankings – and most of the other spankings he gave her. Even though they made it hard to sit down afterwards, she wouldn't give them up for anything in the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment