Gym Shoe

by Ivana Chopski

  GYM SHOE

  A collection of five erotic spanking stories

  Edited by Miranda Forbes

  ISBN 9781908006455

  Copyright © Accent Press Ltd 2010

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

  These stories were originally published in Spank Me

  published by Accent Press Ltd – 2009

  ISBN 9781905170937

  Contents

  Gym Shoe Ivana Chopski

  Wanton Witchery Lynn Lake

  The Landlady Primula Bond

  Perfection Cathryn Cooper

  Paddles Caesar Pink

  Gym Shoe

  by Ivana Chopski

  Janine bit her bottom lip in anticipation of what was about to happen, she bit so hard she felt a tooth pierce the skin. She could taste that unmistakable metallic tang on her tongue at the same time that she felt the warm liquid slowly run over her lip and head towards her chin. She wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, she didn’t want him to see it, he might stop and it had been hard enough getting this far!

  Today was Monday, not just any Monday because today was her fortieth birthday. They, her and her husband Ricky, had been out on Friday night for a celebratory meal. He’d taken her to the Greek place she loved in the High Street. She’d had the lamb, she always had the lamb and they had managed to polish off two bottles of Retsina, probably half a bottle too much, and then they had Ouzo with the coffee. Not a good move!

  Ricky had moved from around the table where he was sitting opposite her and tucked himself next to her when the coffee arrived. He kissed her on the cheek and held her hand.

  ‘Is there anything special you want for your birthday? I have got you something, but this is the big four zero and if there is something you’ve been longing for perhaps there’s still time for me to sort it out,’ he said without taking a breath, in a drink-induced slur.

  Janine had pulled him close and, without thinking, whispered ‘Spank me!’

  Ricky couldn’t have heard her right because he replied, ‘Hankies? that’s not a very good present and anyway you have loads of hankies!’

  She tried again.

  ‘Fuck off! You’re kidding me!’ Ricky said in disbelief, a tad too loud, as half the restaurant turned around to see what was going on.

  ‘Shhhhhh!’ she hissed at him.

  ‘You want me to slap your arse?’

  ‘No!’ she said trying to keep her composure, lowering her voice to a whisper to stop the people on the table behind eavesdropping.

  ‘No, I want to dress up as a schoolgirl; you catch me being naughty, then put me over your knee and spank me with a gym shoe!’

  ‘Where…’ he started and realised he was being loud again and in a whisper finished ‘…did this all come from?’

  ‘I dunno; just thought it would be a bit of fun, spice things up a bit. You know?’

  She had lied! She didn’t like lying to him and did it very rarely but she couldn’t tell him the real reason. She’d kept this secret to herself for twenty-four years, twenty-one of which she had been married to Ricky, and there was no way she was telling him, or anyone, now!

  She was sixteen years old and a pupil at an all-girl Catholic school when it happened. It was a very strict environment to grow up in and Janine didn’t always toe the line. One day in a physical education lesson she wouldn’t take her turn on the trampoline, she was frightened but wouldn’t admit as much. When the nuns tried to force her on it she wet her pants. They thought she had done it on purpose and had called for one of the priests to discipline her.

  He had told her off and had asked her to apologise to the class, she had been unrepentant, protesting it was an accident. So he pulled a gym shoe out of his back pocket and positioned a chair in front of the whole class. They all sat and watched as he bent her over his knee and pulled down her gym shorts to reveal her bare backside. Then without warning he brought the shoe down hard on her white plump flesh. She had shouted out, in surprise more than pain, it had hurt or maybe stung but not a lot and by the time the third stroke landed it was more of a pleasure than a pain! She had noticed her nipples starting to harden, her clitoris throb and, by the sixth and final time, she was close to orgasm. Being spanked in public had brought out the exhibitionist in her – or would have done – if the opportunity had ever arisen.

  It had been her guilty secret all that time, she had wanted to replicate the pleasure but was afraid to ask. Now she’d asked and he was looking at her like she’d gone completely mad!

  ‘You bored with our lovemaking?’ His voice brought her back to the present.

  ‘No!’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Oh, nothing, I wish I had never mentioned it!’

  The waiter had arrived with the bill at that point and the topic wasn’t mentioned again. Janine thought Ricky had forgotten all about it as he was a bit worse for wear with the alcohol; it wasn’t until her birthday that she realised he hadn’t!

  They had both taken the day off work but had got up as usual, so the kids could give their mum her present and sing ‘happy birthday’ before they went off to school. When they were both alone in the house, Ricky brought out another present he’d been hiding under the stairs. It was quite a large box wrapped in birthday paper with a huge bow on the top.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘A special birthday surprise, hope you like it!’ he said with a wink.

  Janine placed it on the table, opened it up and placed the contents next to the box. There was a pale blue polo shirt, a short pleated skirt, a pair of white cotton panties, a pair of white knee-high socks, a pair of white rubber gym shoes and one larger black gym shoe. He looked at her with a wry smile and she blushed.

  ‘I thought you forgot.’

  ‘No way, this is what you wanted for your fortieth and this is what you are getting! Go upstairs and get changed.’

  She had gathered up all her bits and gone to get changed. He had changed into his best suit by the time she came downstairs and was holding the black shoe, slapping it into his hand in a menacing manner. She had tied her hair into bunches, put on some make-up and felt like a schoolgirl again.

  Ricky looked at her as she walked down the stairs and fell in lust with her all over again. She looked fucking hot! She always looked good, he thought to himself, she was tall, curves in all the right places with great legs and she carried this look very well. As if she knew what he was thinking, and she probably did, she started to accentuate the way she swung her hips as she cleared the last few steps, flicking her skirt to show a brief glimpse of her underwear.

  Ricky moved forward and wrapped his arms around her, feeling his way up her skirt and down her pants, cupping the cheeks of her arse in his large hands. They kissed, a long lingering kiss, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths as if they had never kissed before. Janine knew he was consumed because she was wearing that cherry lip gloss he hated the taste of and he hadn’t wiped it off! She stopped kissing him and pulled away.

  ‘Is that any way for a teacher to treat his pupil?’

  He looked at her dejectedly like a scolded puppy and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth ridding himself of the cherry poison!

  ‘What now?’ he said grumpily.

  ‘You tell me off, put me over your knee and spank me.’

  ‘How many times, how hard, how will I know if I’m hurting you?’

  ‘Slow down! Six times I think and you’ll know how hard when it comes to it, I’m sure. Don’t do it
too soft though or it won’t be worth it! We’ll have a code so you know if I want you to stop.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, if I shout out OW! Or Stop! I might not really mean it and will still want you to carry on so we need a word like, like ‘monkey’ which will mean stop.’

  ‘Monkey?’

  ‘Yes monkey, but only stop if I say monkey!’

  ‘Have you done this before?’

  ‘No! I watched a program on television and they talked all about this stuff.’

  ‘Ok if you’re sure, what now?’

  ‘Tell me off!’

  ‘What did you do?’

  Janine let out a long sigh, thought for a moment then wet her pants.

  ‘Janine, what the fuck! That’s going to be great on my good suit!’

  She frowned at him.

  ‘Oh yeah, sorry!’ and raising his voice, ‘what have you done young lady?’

  ‘Sorry, sir, I pissed my pants!’

  ‘You know the punishment for that, don’t you?’

  She nodded, shamefaced, trying not to smile.

  ‘You can wipe that smile off your face!’ Ricky snapped starting to revel in his role.

  ‘Bring me my slipper!’

  She brought the slipper to him as he was moving a chair into the centre of the room. He sat on it and barked ‘over my knee!’

  Ricky wasn’t sure exactly how he felt at that moment, a combination of feelings was coursing through his body, fighting each other for supremacy. He was worried about hurting her but he loved her and wanted to give her what she wanted, even if it was all a bit alien to him. The overriding feeling at the moment, though, was that of guilt, guilt because he was about to spank his wife and guilt because he hadn’t felt this horny in years! What did they say about there being a fine defining line between pain and passion? He could see some sense in that if he thought about it. Say someone walked up to him and pinched his nipple; that would hurt him but if she was to bite his nipple while making love, that was horny! Maybe that was what this was all about, passion and pain? Well he was just about to find out.

  Janine lay over his knee resting the palms of her hands on the floor, she could feel his cock pressing against her stomach and it was rock hard. The fact that this was arousing him started to turn her on. He flipped her skirt up onto her back to expose her panties, which he pulled down to reveal her white rounded bottom. He stroked it gently and as he did so she felt him getting harder, if that was possible. He picked up the slipper and her heart was racing.

  The anticipation was really intense now and she was starting to get worried, what if it wasn’t how she remembered? All this time fantasising, reliving, wanting something that could never be replicated, or, was never that good in the first place! What if it had been nothing to do with the spanking and had just been some exhibitionist trip, getting off on everybody seeing her bare arse?

  ‘OWWW!’

  Ricky had brought the slipper down on her bare backside, it hadn’t been that hard but she wasn’t ready for it. He must have realised as the next one was harder, it stung, stung in a good way! The old feelings were coming back! Again, harder still, she was holding back the tears as she felt her clit throb and her nipples harden. Was she crying because it hurt, or because of a realisation that she had remembered it right for all those years? Whack, whack, each one slightly harder than the last, the final one stung like fury!

  After he spanked Janine for the sixth time, Ricky threw the gym shoe on the floor, grabbed her, pulled her to her feet and, holding her face with both of his hands, kissed her with a passion they hadn’t felt for years.

  He looked into her bright blue eyes and could see a longing and a desire that stirred his soul. As he wiped away a tear that had formed in the corner of her eye, time seemed to stand still. In that moment his senses were accentuated, he could feel her warm breath on his face, smell the conditioner in her hair and the subtleness of her perfume on her neck. In his temples was the beat of his, or her, heart, maybe both?

  Without letting her go, he walked her backwards to the dining room table, managed in a seamless move to lift her to a sitting position on the table and unbutton his trousers. He opened her legs, slipped her panties to one side of her very moist pussy and, dropping his boxers to his ankles, entered her. They were both close to climax but they fucked with an intensity like nothing they had ever felt. When they finally came, Janine lay back on the table and he fell on top of her. They held each other tightly for what seemed like an eternity, with his cock still throbbing inside her.

  Janine reached up so she could whisper in his ear.

  ‘You like?’

  ‘I like!’

  ‘Guess what I want for Christmas?’

  Wanton Witchery

  by Lynn Lake

  Bridgette struggled against the coarse rope that bound her thin wrists, pulled her aching arms up over her head. The rope ran up and through a pulley fastened into the ceiling, and then down into the hands of one of the monks. He had only to tug on the hemp to jerk Bridgette’s slender, stretched arms even higher above her head. He tugged on it many times.

  The hoist was just one of a multitude of pain-inducing devices that the two brown-robed Dominican monks had at their disposal to ferret out witchery. Scattered about the dingy, cobwebbed dungeon were other, vastly more terrible, instruments of the Inquisition – whips and chains and paddles, thumbscrews, manglers, a nail-studded chair, and hanging ominously from the ceiling: the iron gate, a four-by-six-foot bed of razor-sharp pikes fastened to a heavy, cast-iron frame, suitable for eviscerating any poor innocent tied to the rack.

  Bridgette’s long, shimmering, brown tresses hung about her pale face and shoulders, her virginal white summer dress torn to ribbons by the monks. Her soulful, brown eyes dripped tears, as brackish water in turn dripped down upon her face from the rotted ceiling of the crypt-like chamber which lay at the fetid bottom of the monastery. Her heavy breasts jerked up and down in rhythm to her ragged breathing.

  The monks, their faces shrouded in the darkness of their woollen hoods, slavered with delight as they gazed upon Bridgette’s heaving chest, jutting, kitten-pink nipples riding damp, undulating breasts. They stared at the girl’s downy-furred sex as well, licking their bloodless lips.

  The taller of the two monks shuffled over to a wooden bench, picked up a studded, round, wooden paddle, and shuffled in behind the hanging girl. ‘Let the power of Almighty God beat the Devil out of the possessed soul of this wanton!’ he cried, smashing the paddle across Bridgette’s plush, plump buttocks.

  Her body jerked, the pulley groaning. Her luminous eyes glazed and her full-bodied lips trembled, as the wooden paddle cracked against the gleaming orbs of her mounded butt cheeks again and again and again.

  The monks brayed with laughter, their sharp teeth showing white in the black holes of their hoods. The paddle came up, crashed down on the ample, jiggling flesh of Bridgette’s ass, striking her over and over, smooth, porcelain skin flushing violently scarlet, her bottom absorbing the savage blows and sending them vibrating all through her dewy body.

  The monk holding the rope quivered as Bridgette quivered, as his merciless companion relentlessly smacked the paddle across the girl’s ripe ass. ‘God have mercy!’ she wailed, desperately tilting her head heavenward as the monk paddled hellishly on.

  ‘My turn, brother!’ the shorter monk finally rasped, after Bridgette’s bountiful bottom had been thoroughly singed by the singing paddle. He tossed his compatriot the rope that stretched Bridgette upright and scurried over to the bench, grabbing up a leather horse-whip, briefly testing its strength and flexibility with his trembling fingers. Satisfied, he hurried back in behind the girl, hissing, ‘Turn the other cheek, slut of Satan!’

  Eyes gleaming from within the murk of his cowl, he raised the whip over his head and then brought it whistling down on Bridgette’s battered rear end. The crack of vicious impact was only slightly louder than the ragged scream that tore loose from Bridg
ette’s parched throat and echoed throughout the dungeon.

  ‘Beat her, brother!’ the other monk shrilled. ‘Beat the word of God into the immoral wench!’

  The monk with the whip slashed at Bridgette’s provocative cheeks over and over, his breath thundering out of his nose and mouth. She writhed around on the end of the rope, outstretched toes barely scraping the stone floor. Her trembling buttocks blazed red as a fiery sunset, then a deeper purple, hard white ridges forming on the blistered flesh where the sting of the whip was harshest.

  ‘Enough!’ the taller monk wheezed, loosening his grip on the rope. The pulley creaked and the ravaged lovely collapsed in a pool of wetness on the cold floor.

  He roughly grabbed Bridgette’s silky locks and yanked her head back, tore away the tattered remnants of her youthful dress. The other monk stood and stared, lungs bellowing, whip still jerking in his skeletal hand. He finally dropped the flesh-biter and assisted his brother in dragging the moaning girl over to the bench, draping her over the top of it.

  The two emissaries of the Old Testament eyed Bridgette’s swollen, welted buttocks, and then each other. The paddler proved quicker, hiking up his sacred robe to reveal a twitching, blood-engorged erection. ‘It is time for this Devil’s whore to be penetrated by the righteous lances of Christian soldiers!’ he exclaimed.

  The whipper eagerly nodded. He grasped Bridgette’s flayed, overfull butt cheeks and spread them wide, opening her up to the sword of God. His blunt fingernails bit into her tenderised flesh, and she groaned, clawed splinters out of the crude bench.

  The taller monk spat into his hand and rubbed his rigid cock with the hot saliva, swirling his bony fingers up and down his veiny length. The monk holding Bridgette’s ass open spat into her gaping crack, coating her pink, puckered anus with his own saliva. He inched a dirty finger closer to her exposed opening, then plunged it inside, violating the shrieking girl.

  The monk brutally twisted his finger around inside Bridgette’s bum, and she bit her lip, her legs shaking out-of-control as all shake before the might and majesty of the Inquisitors. ‘Make way for the iron will of God!’ the taller monk cried, driving his slimy, bloated hood into the raw, red hole which his brother had just vacated.