How wet are you now, naughty girl, bent over like this awaiting your punishment? Are you eager for it or reluctant? Curious? Scared? Both at once, and more than that, you’re aroused. Your heart is beating fast and your belly is tight and yes, your nipples are starting to stiffen. Your breathing is coming faster and your lips are dry and so part them honey, lick them. And now we’ll begin.
First spank. Now!
“One sir. Thank you for making me a good girl, sir. Please may I have another?”
Second spank. Now!
“Two sir. Thank you for making me a good girl, sir. Please may I have another?”
And that’s the way it’s going to work, honey. Just keep going, spank after spank, thank me for each and ask for the next until every last one has been driven home, until every last red mark has been paid for in full. Rhythmic and steady, that’s the way it has to be. Smack, smack, smack.
Yes honey, I know it hurts. And you know you need it to hurt. We both know you need this, you know you have been needing this for a long time. Is it bringing tears to your eyes, honey? Are you going to have trouble sitting tomorrow? If not you aren’t doing it hard enough. So do it harder, honey. You’re going to be doing it as hard as I would, and that’s very hard indeed, hard enough to turn your luscious ass cheeks red, hard enough to make you squirm and dance and gasp and cry.
Harder, honey. That’s the way. Show me how much you want to be a good girl. Let me strip away the badness, let me scourge your soul clean. Just take it honey, just accept it. Show me what a good girl you can be for me. It’s just about you and me honey, and you should understand that I have your best interests at heart here. This is done because I want nothing but the best for you, nothing but the best from you. You do understand that, don’t you, honey? What you might not understand is that this is hard for me too. I don’t like to have to do this, but we both know it has to be done.
Harder, honey. How many are you up to now? Finish them off, rhythmic and steady, no drop in intensity, no change in cadence. Do it, honey, do it hard, and if you aren’t pleased with your own response, if you don’t feel I’d be pleased with the intensity, or with the way you hold your posture or the clarity of your voice when you ask for the next one then feel free to apply that hard, unyielding implement to more sensitive areas. That’s right, right there at the very bottom of your ass where your thigh begins. Right up against the inner thigh. Right up in between your sensitive soaking labia, right up against your hard, hurting clit. Ever been cunt spanked before, honey? It’s happening now, and keep those legs wide for it, keep that ass arched out. Keep the cadence, honey.
“Thank you for making me be a good girl, sir. Please may I have another?”
Smack.
Oh yes, honey, every red mark on your ass now makes up for one on the page. Every red mark now atones for every little notch of less-than-perfect performance. Feel it, feel the catharsis building up. You can cry if you want to, cry in response to the pain, to the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a bad little girl.
Harder! You can give in to it, feel the tears building up inside.
Harder! It’s okay to cry, honey, it’s okay to not cry, the only requirement here is that every last smack be taken out on your upturned and by now well punished bottom. So now you’re going to finish, you’re going to stop reading now and finish off the full measure of punishment. Finish it off honey, do it the way you know it needs to be done. I’m counting on you to be a good girl for me. Finish your spanking before you turn the page.
And now we’re back, honey, and you’re done, with your now very red and sore ass high in the air. It is still in the air, isn’t it honey? You didn’t get out of position just because you were done, before you were told you could, did you? And you did finish every last spank, didn’t you, every last one given hard enough, firm and on target? So what I want now is the make-up spanking, the extra strokes for every one that didn’t count, for imperfect posture, for moving, for every transgression not yet redeemed. You know how bad you were, honey, so you know how much more you need. So do it honey, lay them on there, fast and furious. Lay them on until you are done, until your sore, smarting ass has completely atoned for your sins. Ask for each one, honey. Convince me that you need it, convince yourself. I’m watching, I’m waiting, do it, do it now.
And now I’m satisfied, honey. I’m convinced that you are one hundred percent good girl now, every last red mark taken off the page and put on your ass. Did you cry after all honey, did the tears come, or did you fight them down, keep control the whole time?
I want to know the answers to those questions, but the more important question is, was it enough for you, honey? Yes you’re my good girl now, my well spanked, well loved good girl, but how do you feel inside, do you think you need still more spanking to meet your own standard, or do you think you’ve had enough? Because this isn’t about me, this is about you, and so if you haven’t had enough chastisement, if you still feel rebellious in your heart, if you still feel guilty, if you still feel unfinished, then there is only one solution here, and that is more spanking.
Yes, honey, more. And this time it’s going to be hard and fast and you aren’t going to ask for them, oh no, you’re just going to get them, smack, smack, smack, until you are finished, done, completely, cathartically, thoroughly spanked as much as you need to be spanked. The tears are there honey, whether they come spilling out is up to you because you’re the one who needs this, you’re the one who’s been craving this deep, deep down inside for oh, so very long. So keep it up honey, don’t short-change yourself, this is where you get a lasting impression, this is where you truly learn how it’s going to be. Keep it up until you feel like you’ve been put completely, utterly, totally in your place. Harder honey, and faster, and turn the page when you’re finally done
And one more smack, honey, one more juicy one right in the centre to finish you off properly, harder than all the others. One last sacrifice on your own sexual altar and then you can just let it go, let your implement of self-inflicted penance drop to the floor and just experience what it’s like to be bent over, well punished, humiliated, chastised, bright red ass in the air, waiting for permission to get up.
So, what happens next is the question. You have to understand what’s going through my mind as I’m administering this to you. It’s hard for me to do it, hard to punish you like this and I want nothing more than to hold you and cuddle you and comfort you, and tell you how much you’re my good girl now, how proud I am of you for taking it so well. At the same time my cock is rigid, pressing painfully against the bulged out front of my jeans and it’s presenting me with an entirely different priority.
Yeah, honey, with your now bright red ass and creamy cunt so perfectly presented the urge is to just get my cock into you and fuck you, oh, so hard and oh, so deep, while you’re in this state of ultimate vulnerability, ultimate receptivity. And the only thing that competes with that, honey, is the sight of your tender little anus peeking out between your well spanked buttocks, and the thought of taking you up that hot, tight little hole, spearing my cock deep between your well punished cheeks, finishing off your humiliation with a thorough ass fucking, with the deep, forced injection of sperm into your helpless, hapless rectum.
Yeah, I want that honey, more than anything, but there’s one final option, which is to leave you there on display to absorb the details of the lesson you have just received. A little quiet time in the punishment position to reflect at leisure on your new reality. And you can’t quite believe it, honey, that I’ve got you exactly where I want you. You can’t believe I’ve got you exactly where you’ve wanted to be for years. But I have you here and I’m going to keep you here and you can expect to grow quite used to this situation. Are you up for that, honey? Is there any possibility that you’re going to do anything but sigh in satisfaction at the knowledge that somebody, somewhere, is finally going to be giving you exactly the attention you deserve?
No, honey, there isn’
t. And you know what? Since you’ve been such a good girl for me, since you’ve played the game so well I’m going to give you a little treat, which is to reach back between your spread legs. Yeah, you know what’s coming next, don’t you? Bad girls get spankings and good girls get their stiff little clits stroked until they feel tingly-nice all over. And I know your clit is stiff honey, I know it’s hard, peeking out over your swollen, spanked, spread vulva. I know you’re slippery back there, I know how much you need the post-spanking release. So yes, honey-good-girl, yes, you can rub your hot little clit in just that special way. You can let me take care of you just like that. Do it honey, rub it up and down, steady strokes, rub it up and down and gasp and sigh and wiggle and think about the show you’re putting on for me while you’re doing it. Remember how you felt the first time I watched you? Remember the feeling of my eyes on your ass? Feel that now as you do it, feel that sensation as you get wetter, get hotter. Feel your cunt swell up as it gets juicier. Yes, honey, it’s going to happen.
It’s going to happen very soon now, and you know that your display is going to remove every option but one from my world, and that is to get my cock into you, to finish claiming your body for my own, so think about that, honey, listen for the slither of my belt coming through the loops and feel your heart skip a beat as you wonder if you’re going to get it on the ass again, wonder if maybe the spanking isn’t over after all. And feel the relief as you hear the buckle hit the floor and the soft pop-pop-pop of my button fly coming undone, and spread your cunt for it, honey, stretch it wide and open and feel me coming up behind you. Sense the warmth of my body, hear me breathing, feel my hands coming on to your poor red ass cheeks, feel the sharp sting as I lift them and spread them, stretching you wider still. And you have a moment here, honey, to wonder if I’m going to take your ass or your cunt. It’s a long moment, honey, and you can take it to focus on the heft and hardness of the shaft that’s about to slide into your beautifully displayed body. Oh yes, honey, it’s going to be so good. I love making you into my good little girl.
And feel the smooth and swollen head nudge up between your soft folds, feel it slide right up into your cunt in one long, steady thrust. Yes, honey, I’m taking your cunt, and not because I’m not highly motivated to claim your tight little anal ring but because I’m saving that for later. You’ve been a good girl and your cunt deserves its fucking and right now that’s exactly what it’s going to get. So feel my hands on your ass, honey, feel my fingers digging in and pulling your hips back on to my cock, feel it swelling inside you, harder still.
God, you’re so hot, honey, you’re so tight, and there is nothing in my world right now but the sight of my cock, glazed shiny with your juices, pumping up into your tight-stretched twat. There is nothing in my world but the feel of your red welted ass in my hands and the scent of your arousal and your cries of mingled pain and pleasure as I fuck you hard and deep and over and over again. It’s going to happen, honey. You’re going to come on my cock, you’re going to jerk and spasm and cry and your muscles are going to go tight and in that instant I’m going to fill you, drive myself all the way into your clenching pussy and empty my balls into you. That’s the way it’s supposed to work. You’re the woman and I’m the man and your job is to get your ass up and take what I have to give you, and my job is to make sure you get it, get everything you need, in full and overflowing measure. You needed the spanking and you need the fucking and in a little while you’re going to need that quiet moment and the time to touch and to look and to wonder at the amazing power of this whole thing, but right now what you need to do is come.
That’s right, honey. That’s right, good girl. Come for me, come on me, keep that steady rhythm on your clit and feel my cock inside you. Feel so claimed, so taken, so open and exposed and receptive, all dignity, all defences, everything but your most fundamental feminine nature stripped and discarded to reveal the most primal, beautiful, natural you. And there is nothing in this world you want more than to feel me come inside you, hear me grunt and groan and feel my cock swell and stiffen, even longer and thicker than it is right now, stretching you to the point of pain and throbbing, pulsing, drenching your open, fertile womb with my sperm. There’s nothing you want more than that, and in order to get it you have to come yourself, so come on honey, show me what a good girl you are, show me that you know what to do. Come for me. Do it. Do it right now. Now now now NOW!
And, oh yes, honey, you get your reward for that. You get my cock thrust up inside you so deep it feels like you’re going to be torn in half and you get my hands clenched on your sore, spanked ass and your legs forced even wider. You get slammed hard and deep and you get my everything, not just my balls but my very being, my passion, my desire, my very soul pumped up inside you, completing you, completing me.
You get it all honey, and you get me pulling you down, off whatever it is you’re bent over to lie with me in a tangled heap on the floor, the couch, the bed, whatever, wherever. You get me inside you still hard, drenched in sweat and you get to forget about everything but the intimacy of this contact and the feel of me behind you and inside you. You get me reaching around to hold you, to cup your breasts with surprising gentleness, to kiss the back of your neck, to whisper to you.
You’re such a good girl.
You get that, good girl. You get everything, because you are you and I am me and that’s the way it’s meant to be.
Bike Girl
Leather, heavy and black, zipped on like a second skin. It makes me wet just to smell it. Boots on, gloves on, my hair tied back and then helmet on. I mount up, start up, feel the vibration in my crotch, steady, insistent. Hit the gas, pop the clutch and I’m riding, Harley hot, rolling past the stop signs on my quiet suburban street, past my disapproving neighbours, past the oversized houses on undersized lots, the mass-market McMansions that crowd my executive ghetto. Every one is a unique design, exclusive, builder customized to buyer specifications. Every one is exactly the same with its manicured lawn and cathedral entrance and designer-styled kitchen.
I cruise past the grandiose clubhouse of the golf course that narrowly squiggles its way through everyone’s back yard so everyone can claim to have a golf course lot. It spills pretentious music into the street, and I cut too close to a grey haired foursome crossing the street to whatever dinner party is being held there tonight. They jump, and I smirk behind my facemask at their blurred annoyance. Fuck them, smug, safe, pretentious post-love-child yuppie sellouts. I don’t stop at the stop sign, just slow enough to clear left and right and then punch it, out onto the main drag, from nearly zero to way-too-fast in too few seconds to count. My heart rate spikes with the tach, the engine screams and the wind roars as the speedometer races from warning to fine to vehicular homicide. I take her down the yellow line, away from the subdivision, away from prestige and position and status and into the gathering darkness.
They’d ban me if they could, that smug foursome and my neighbours and the rest of my snobby little world. They’d pen a covenant to deny the ownership of motorcycles in our tight-assed little might-as-well-be-gated community. Only they never thought of tuned headers and dual carbs and the sweet rumble-roar of two hundred hard-ridden Harley horses, and whoever drew up the original rules wasn’t as smart as I am. They aren’t going to make any changes that I choose to oppose, the clauses don’t allow it. I fight dirty and I always win, and I can feel myself become a creature of the night as the big, round moon breaks over the horizon. It’s a werewolf-worthy transformation, power-suited power lawyer to black leather biker bitch, and my blood is boiling with the change. My fertility peaks when the moon is full, and fuck I’m so horny I could rip a man’s throat out for access to his cock.
I jump into the other lane to blow past a sensibly driven Volvo and feel the rush of speed. I’m naked under the tight, restraining leather, with the engine throbbing against my clit while my nipples rub on my jacket, rigid hard. I’m a machine-melded sex-goddess, as steamy as the Amazon and twic
e as hot. Already my womb is pulsing in anticipation of power-driven climax, the real reason for my ride.
Oh yes, I want it, I want it so bad I can barely see straight and I’m sure my driving judgment is impaired by my arousal and so what if it is? And you might think I’d be at home waiting for my husband to come and scratch the full-moon itch, but I never let him touch me when I’m ripe like this. Ovulation week belongs to my bike. I tell him it’s the rhythm method, but it’s really automotive adultery.
I slide around the parkway curve and will the traffic lights to be green. Amber flashes instead and I gun it, clear left, clear right and blast through the lights at twice the legal limit. And yes, that could get me killed and you should ask me if I care. The full moon makes me crazy, or maybe I was just born that way. For a split second I think I see blue-red-blue roof lights and adrenaline spikes for the chase, but it’s just some pizza driver with a lighted logo on his car. Party Pizza for your Pizza Party.
The thought crosses my mind that I could nail the brakes, wave him over, flip up the faceplate and suck him off in the ditch. He’d get a story no-one would ever believe, and I’d get two minutes with some loser’s cock in my mouth and then a face-full of Party Pizza special sauce. I’d get dirtied, and then I’d ride with the faceplate up, to let his juice dry on my pretty-girl features, to let it mix with road grime so when I came back to my husband I was streaked with the evidence of my infidelity. The thought makes my clit throb hard. Oh yes, I want to be dirtied, I want it bad. And by the time the thought is finished pizza-guy is a mile in my dust and I’m spinning up the on-ramp. I shift up as I hit the highway, slide to the fast lane and wind her out.
The Secret Journey Page 11
