Ultimate Spanking

by Miranda Forbes

  ‘Ow!’ she wailed. ‘Oh, Mark, no more, please! It hurts, it really hurts!’

  ‘You bet it does, honey,’ retorted Mark pitilessly, as his hand continued to rise and fall. ‘It’s a spanking, remember? They’re meant to hurt!’

  There was another reason for June’s discomfort. It was humiliating enough, in all conscience, for a bright, independent-minded 22-year-old to be turned over her boyfriend’s knee and soundly smacked on her bare bottom like a naughty child. But even as the heat built up in her spanked rear end, she was embarrassingly aware that adjacent parts of her anatomy were also becoming heated. Her spanking was stinging like hell, worse than anything she’d ever known, but at the same time, she couldn’t help realising, it was turning her on.

  ‘Oh please stop, honey,’ she implored tearfully. ‘That’s enough! Oh! Ow! I’m sorry. I’m really so, so sorry!’

  ‘Are you, June?’ asked Mark, pausing. ‘I wonder. Are you sorry for what you did. Or just sorry because you’re getting spanked for it? Do you know what you’re being spanked for?’

  ‘For drinking and driving?’

  ‘Oh no, not yet. We haven’t even got to that yet. This is for being so selfish and thoughtless. For staying out way past the time you said, and not letting me know. And then trying to lie about it when you got home.’ He leaned over and stroked her hair. ‘And also, honey, you’re being spanked because I love you and care about you, and couldn’t bear it if anything bad happened to you. So next time you’re tempted to act so irresponsibly, I want you to remember two things: first, that I love you, and second, just what it feels like to be put over my knee and spanked good and hard on your bare bottom.’

  He caressed the roseate curves. ‘Your bottom’s a lovely colour, my sweet. All hot and blushing. Makes it look even more beautiful. But it’s going to be a whole lot redder before we’re through here tonight.’ He helped her up off his lap. ‘OK, young lady, that’s it for this stage. Now go into the bedroom and fetch me the hairbrush. The black one with a handle.’

  June pouted tearfully, stamping her foot. ‘That’s not fair. Not the hairbrush. It’ll be agony!’

  ‘Oh, like my hand wasn’t?’ asked Mark, grinning. Reaching out, he landed a swat on June’s burning rear that made her yip. ‘Go get me that brush if you know what’s good for you, my girl. If I have to fetch it, you’ll be even sorrier. And no, you needn’t pull up your jeans and panties. Take ’em right off!’

  Resentfully, June stepped out of her jeans and panties and stomped off to the bedroom. Mark watched her go, relishing the sight of her rosy spanked cheeks peeking pertly out beneath her T-shirt, jiggling charmingly as she walked. She looked so adorable that he was tempted to follow her into the bedroom to cuddle and soothe her and make love to her. Quite apart from anything else, spanking his pretty girlfriend on her bare bottom was proving to be a highly erotic experience, and he had a rampant hard-on. But he repressed the impulse. Time enough for that when this sweet, spoilt girl had thoroughly learned her lesson.

  In the bedroom, June couldn’t resist checking her rear end in the mirror. ‘Wow.’ She gingerly stroked her fiery bottom-cheeks. The mirror also revealed a telltale gleam of moisture between her legs. How could something that hurt so much be such a turn-on, she wondered in bewilderment.

  ‘June! Get that brush here now!’ came Mark’s voice from the living-room. This was a whole new side to her boyfriend, a man usually so gentle and easy-going. She ought to resent it, she knew, but somehow she was finding it exciting. Scary, sure, but exciting.

  She trotted back into the living-room and held the brush out to Mark, pouting imploringly. ‘Please, honey. Not too hard,’ she begged.

  ‘No harder than you deserve, my girl,’ came the inexorable response. ‘OK, back across my knee with you.’

  Reluctantly, June let herself be drawn back down into prime spanking position. Mark stroked the bristle side of the brush across her glowing curves a few times, making her wriggle, then turned it over and rubbed the wooden side over the same area. It felt cool against June’s hot, spanked rear, but very soon, she reflected apprehensively, it would feel anything but.

  ‘OK, my girl,’ said Mark, ‘the hand-spanking was for being thoughtless and selfish and not telling me where you were. The hairbrush is for going to that crummy dive and putting yourself in danger with all those lowlifes.’

  ‘And – and the drink-driving?’ she asked nervously.

  ‘We’ll get to that.’

  Yikes, she thought. And then ‘Yikes!’ she yelped out loud, as the hairbrush landed with a sharp crack on the already tender and ultra-sensitive curve of her right cheek. The hand-spanks, she now realised, had been mere love-taps in comparison with the brush’s burning kiss. ‘Oh stop, honey, please. It hurts! It hurts!’ There was nothing phoney about June’s tears now. After only a dozen swats with the brush she was crying for real, with helpless convulsive sobs.

  Yet strangely enough the pain of the spanking wasn’t the main reason she was crying, although that was the catalyst that was allowing the tears to flow. As her spanking continued June found herself experiencing a strange mix of emotions – uppermost among them a sense of release. For the first time since infancy she had totally ceded control to another person. In allowing Mark to spank her – for she hadn’t physically resisted him at all – she had handed over responsibility, giving him all her trust. In return she felt deeply loved, cared for and protected, even while the stinging spanks rained down on her blazing bottom, and this confused medley of emotions found vent in a flood of tears.

  Hearing his girlfriend’s sobs, and recognising how different this was from the easy tears she could call on to manipulate situations to her advantage, Mark was tempted to stop spanking her. But it was vital, he felt, that her lesson should be well and truly learnt, and that this spanking should be one she’d never forget. So, hardening his heart, he brought the brush down a few dozen more times on her scarlet, squirming cheeks, paying particular attention to the sensitive sit-spot: that delectable under-curve where bottom meets thigh.

  To June, gasping and wailing, it seemed as if her bottom was on fire and swollen to twice its regular size. But at last Mark paused, and stroked the fiery mounds. ‘OK, honey,’ he said gently, ‘we’re nearly there. Up you get.’

  Awkwardly she rose and stood tearfully rubbing her burning rear. ‘Nearly there?’ she gulped. ‘Oh, Mark, haven’t I been spanked enough yet?’

  Mark stood up and hugged her. ‘Not quite, honey,’ he said. ‘There’s still that drink-driving to take care of, remember? Now just lie over the arm of the couch like a good girl, with your bottom nice and high. You’re going to get two dozen good licks with the belt.’

  ‘No,’ said June, but her voice was mostly just breath and all her independent willpower seemed to have deserted her. Obediently she draped herself over the couch’s padded arm, buried her face in the cushions and awaited her fate. There came to her ears a swishing noise which, she realised, must be Mark drawing his belt through the loops of his jeans. The sound was intensely scary, yet strangely thrilling.

  How sweet she looked lying there so submissively, Mark thought, her plump round bottom upraised and defenceless, its vivid blush contrasting exquisitely with the whiteness of her back and thighs. Never had she looked more feminine, nor more adorable. But at the same time her well-spanked cheeks presented an irresistible target. Doubling the belt in his grip, he took careful aim.

  Thwap.

  ‘Ah!’ yelped June, as the supple leather lit a trail of fire across her already blazing rear end. And she continued to yelp and squirm as the belt descended two dozen times in all, deepening the blush on her bouncing flesh-cushions. The pain was intense, but at the same time it seemed to lift her and take her to some place she’d never been before. She hardly registered when Mark stopped spanking her, but lay shuddering and whimpering, lost in the turmoil of her senses.

  Gently Mark lifted her from the couch and hugged her closely in his arms. ‘It�
�s OK, honey,’ he murmured, stroking her incandescent rear cheeks. ‘It’s all over now. You’ve had your spanking and you took it very well. You’re a sweet lovely girl and I love you very much.’

  Lifting her tear-stained face June kissed him passionately, pressing her body against his. ‘I love you too,’ she whispered tremulously, ‘and I promise I’ll never do anything so silly again.’ Mark kissed her back, letting his hand stray down between her legs. Her cleft was dripping wet, and at his touch she moaned deep inside her throat. ‘Oh please, yes, come inside me now,’ she murmured urgently. ‘But I’m too sore to lie on my back.’

  So moments later June once again found herself bent over the couch, her blushing rearward curves presented to her lover as he drove deep into her from behind, feeling the heat of her well-spanked bottom against his belly until, within seconds, they exploded together in a gasping, simultaneous climax.

  Later still they lay closely entwined in bed together, drifting into warm post-coital slumber. June’s bottom was still very sore, but she was aware that the sting had transmuted itself into a deep radiant glow that was much closer to pleasure than to pain. She felt cleansed, released, and very much loved and cared for.

  ‘Mark?’ she murmured.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You remember what you said, about how from now on you’d spank me whenever I deserved it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you mean it?’

  ‘Course I did. Why?’

  ‘Well, I was just wondering. If it wasn’t always quite so hard, would it only be when I deserved it?’

  Also Available from Andrews UK and Xcite Books