by Laurel Aspen
‘Yes, Dan,’ she replied seductively, no hint of protest, no pleas for mercy. Instead Laura seemed to positively embrace her fate. Her abdomen paralleled the cushion’s flat tops, knees slightly bent, muscles taught, pushing out her enticing posterior, willing Dan to do his worst.
Crack! A line of white fire jolted Laura forward.
‘One,’ she cried shrilly, struggling to control her breathing. ‘Two!’ The second blow struck a few centimetres lower, but just as hard. Laura’s legs kicked in instinctive response as the pain assailing her ravaged rear instantly doubled. She waited tensely, but Dan kept her guessing; when and where would the next stroke fall?
Stepping back a pace he experimented with a backhand stroke, higher this time, slicing across the surface of her burning skin in a searing arc.
‘Three!’ she groaned, only halfway through her torment.
‘Four… yeow!’ This swat came at a slight diagonal, cutting across the weals of previous strokes and making her wail. Laura’s fingers scrabbled at the cushions, her outstretched foot kicked against the floor, but somehow she stayed bent in penitent position.
‘Very good,’ nodded Dan approvingly, as he indulged himself further by stroking and squeezing her overheated cheeks.
During this brief respite Laura felt the pain ebb to an almost bearable throb, which in turn sent urgent tingles of delight down to her molten pussy. Unable to keep her bottom even close to still she waited apprehensively for him to proceed.
Stroke number five came blasting down, the tip of the belt catching her tender inner thighs, scalding the sensitive skin just above the dark welts of her stockings, wrenching an anguished cry from her lips.
‘Oh, five,’ she moaned, tears misting her eyes.
‘And last but not least…’ Dimly, Dan’s voice penetrated her trancelike state. The final tongue of fire cut into the tender crease where buttock and thigh meet, uniting pleasure and pain, stoking the inferno within and drawing a final triumphant shout of, ‘Six…!’
She’d made it, bravely bearing every searing stroke.
Urgently, roughly, Dan grasped her undulating hips and without preamble buried his full length deep inside her cunt with a single masterly thrust, then slowly withdrew, then in again and out again until, helpless to prevent it as he felt himself gripped tight within her, he came in a flood as they exultantly climaxed together.
Carefully Dan carried Laura to the bedroom, stripped off her remaining clothes, apart from the seamed stockings, and carefully rubbed her blazing nates with soothing cold cream. When his tender ministrations had finished Laura turned onto her back, spread her legs wide and urged him to fuck her again, but slowly this time, and in glorious technicolour.
-oOo-
Enjoy more erotic spanking stories by Laurel Aspen in Managing Mrs Burton, also exclusively published as an eBook by us:
Every stroke produced a frantic, immodest weaving of hips and drumming of toes, but Mrs Burton somehow managed to maintain her stance, keeping some shred of decorum as her curvaceous bottom was soundly whipped.
‘Well done,’ he said, ‘you took that caning very well, now stay exactly where you are and I’ll reward your fortitude.’
‘Thank you,’ Mrs Burton replied huskily, ‘that would be lovely.’
In town and in the country, in offices and suburban semis, women have been getting their first spanking. Reluctantly, hesitantly, sometimes forcibly; some even discovering a taste for further punishment. Perhaps that’s why the woman sat next to you on the train is smiling?
Over-confident career women are tamed and petulant young wives receive a stinging comeuppance in this compelling collection of short stories written by Laurel Aspen, who may well have been present at the time…
-oOo-
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