Naughty Spanking Two

by Miranda Forbes

  “Well, I think this deserves the spanking for my wife.”

  “Oh, Otto!”

  “But not yet; I think there is maybe something else my wife has done. She must show me this now.”

  Without hesitation Sonja snatched away the towel from Erik’s lap, bent over and took him into her mouth once more. Despite the situation he was fully up for her. He revelled in the feeling of her hot mouth working on him once more. A few stray wisps of her dark hair tickled his thighs. He had wondered why she had kept her hair pinned up out of the way – now he knew.

  Jesus, he thought, it hardly matters what hubby did or didn’t see before – he can sure see it all now!

  “And now I will start the spanking. Be very careful with him, Sonja.”

  His towel wrapped around his loins, Otto stood behind his wife and eased her knickers to the floor. Without missing a beat with the motion of her mouth, she stepped out of them. The big man faced up to the bare behind presented to him. His hand swung back.

  Smack!

  With her mouth full, she made only a slight muffled yelp, that he felt as much as heard. The smack was probably softer than it sounded – but it sounded fairly loud.

  Smack! There were many, many more, and with each one Sonja rolled her bare buttocks around in Otto’s face as if defying him. Erik was getting very aroused. He would soon be ready to come, but as the guest, would he be violating his hospitality if he did so? Just what was the protocol in these situations? As for Otto, his towel had long gone, and he showed a moderate amount of manly arousal. If Erik had been in his shoes, he would have been unable to resist spearing Sonja’s lovely behind twenty spanks ago.

  “And now we change the places!”

  Erik found himself facing the prospect of Sonja’s broad and somewhat rosy bottom with his rampant cock urgent for duty, while Sonja went down on her husband, who simply lay back passively on the bench, staring at the ceiling.

  “You want me to spank her?”

  “Don’t you dare spank my wife, Erik!” rumbled Otto, his eyes now closed.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it!” Erik happily spread her buttocks wide. Sonja wiggled her bottom in invitation as his fingers opened her labia. She was very juicy. His need was so urgent. He drew the head of his cock through her wetness until he was in position. He sighed as he slipped smoothly right up inside her, all the way. She made a muffled sound of pleasure. For a fleeting moment he wondered if this was what he was supposed to do. Of course it was! Did he need Otto’s permission? No. Fuck Otto! He had definitely been invited into this woman by both concerned parties – and he was right inside now! So he fucked Sonja.

  For some time he fucked her, feeling her hanging breasts, caressing her back and buttock cheeks as he thrust, until her motion accelerated and she began to toss her bottom around in a circle. From that point he just seemed to be holding on as Sonja’s inner muscles gripped him, running up and down his length as he sped in and out. He came at last – a come long delayed from Sonja’s earlier attentions. He filled her in long spurts, crying out with each one until, finally her motion calmed and she seemed satisfied.

  What had happened at Otto’s end, he had no idea, but Otto seemed satisfied too – almost asleep, in fact as a flushed and sparkle-eyed Sonja wiped her inner thighs with his towel.

  “That was lovely, Erik. Would you like some tea now?” Sonja could not be found lacking in hospitality towards her English guest, he thought.

  The rest of the day seemed to pass in a dream. They left Otto in the sauna and had tea and strange continental biscuits in the kitchen – still both in their underwear, and she bare-breasted. She began to brief him for the flight back to Greenfield. Back at the aircraft they dressed and did the walk-round. She’d fixed the cabin air vent with a little sleight-of-hand trick that made him almost certain that she’d sabotaged the thing in the first place.

  Now here he was, taxiing up to Greenfield’s grass apron after a strange flight, performing all the Skills Test items he had practised before. He recalled that they had even diverted on the earlier cross-country – a requirement for the navigation section of the test. He was expecting to do the actual test on the next flight tomorrow. He shut down and secured the aircraft while she completed paperwork. “Congratulations, Erik, you have passed all your Skills Test – You now have your PPL!”

  Although he’d suspected he was being tested, he was still taken aback. “Wow, Sonja, how can I ever thank you?”

  “I thank you as well, Erik.” She leant over and kissed him full on the lips for a few moments. Then she slipped him her card. “Please stay in touch with us at the farm. I mean it. Do not be the stranger.”

  She grabbed her flight bag and headset, and jumped out onto the grass. He’d been aware of increasing turbine noise behind. He turned and saw that the big, tail-dragging Pilatus was taxiing up to the apron, swinging its long nose from side to side for visibility. Sonja jogged towards it as it swung right around, presenting its starboard side door for her to open and climb aboard. She waved and blew him a kiss before joining her husband.

  Erik stood by the Robin, watching the big machine taxi out, raise its tail during the take off, and then climb steeply away.

  As the turbine noise faded into the distance, he became aware of Tanya standing beside him.

  “If I didn’t know that that Fräulein is a Fräu with her Mann, I would say I had something to worry about, Erik … Do I?”

  He looked at her for a moment. A lovely girl, but was she being rather territorial considering how briefly they’d been going out?

  And where the hell was that Aviatrix, Sonja, taking him? He would not be the stranger. He would go back – and maybe not alone.

  Time to chill. “No, you don’t, Tanya – unless you hate saunas. And she is Swedish, actually!”

  A Taste Of Punishment

  by DMW Carol

  Alistair’s locked in his bloody den again! Not that Nadine I’d really been looking forward to Nick’s visit. We’d been flirting online for months, spending hour after hour exchanging lewd suggestions in our favourite chatroom, then private conversations on MSN and even a couple of long filthy phone calls in the wee small hours. He loved telling me about all the naughty thoughts he’d been having and I had just as much fun telling him how I’d punish him for being such a very, very bad boy.

  It had quickly reached the stage when just seeing his name in the “Online” list got me horny and I’d lost count of the number of times I’d got to bed later than planned because of talking to him or been a few minutes late for work because I just couldn’t tear myself away from the sexy chat we were having.

  Flirting online is fun, but it’s no match for the real thing. There comes a point when you have to know if the fantasy is matched by the reality. I’d reached that point weeks before and had been seriously frustrated while my sense of caution battled the libido. Eventually the libido had won and I’d shuffled a few things round in my calendar to free up a weekend. I told him I’d be home with nothing planned and he was welcome to come over, he said he couldn’t wait. He wasn’t kidding. I’d been home from work less than hour when he was knocking on my door.

  He was exactly like his photos, a big hunk of a man with sexy broad shoulders, deep blue eyes and a warm friendly smile that did a lot more than hint at the wicked mind he’d already shown me, very nice indeed. “Nick! Hi!” I exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting you until the morning.”

  “I got off early and figured why wait,” came the reply. The look on his face and the way his eyes were checking out every curve made it obvious that he was hoping that we’d both be getting off again soon. Normally I’d have been uneasy about such an obvious show of lust, but to be honest I was as fired up as he was. No need to let him know that straight away though.

  He got a welcoming hug and a quick kiss, and I gave up on the plans for a proper tidy around and sorting something a bit more fancy for dinner. It took just a few minutes to get him settled on the sofa with a cold cider
while I did the few bits that couldn’t be completely forgotten.

  Nick seemed unimpressed when I didn’t just drop everything because he was there. He said he wasn’t bothered about clean sheets on the bed, didn’t care that I had to find the ingredients of the next day’s dinner from the darkest recesses of the freezer and was almost getting cranky when I had to log on and send a few emails. I could have cut a few corners and given him my undivided attention quicker, but I wasn’t going to. There are more ways than one to be naughty and earn a punishment and Nick was about to find out that bad boys get what they deserve.

  So the chores were done properly and without rushing and when they were done, rather than joining him on the sofa for a drink and a cuddle, I whisked us both out of the house and off to the half decent, but not too expensive, restaurant on the edge of town.

  When the waitress came to take our order, I ordered the simple burger with a crisp Caesar salad.

  “And for sir?” she asked.

  “Oh, he won’t be eating,” I said, snatching the menu from Nick’s hands. “He’s been a very bad boy today.”

  Nick’s jaw almost hit the floor. The waitress looked stunned. But I looked him straight in the eye and the smile on my face dared him to argue. I watched him struggle for a while, but then he nodded his acceptance and looked down in embarrassment.

  Bemused by this exchange, all the waitress could say was: “And to drink?”

  “Diet Coke for me. He’ll have a glass of water, no ice.” The waitress shrugged and with a final confused she gathered up our menus and walked away.

  “What the fuck are you playing at?” demanded Nick as soon as she was out of earshot. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

  “No swearing!” I told him. “Unless you want me to take you into the toilets and wash your mouth out with soap. If you are planning on spending this weekend with me, you WILL treat me with respect.”

  “Yes, mistress!” he whispered. There was a real tremor in his voice, and I smiled to see how his resistance was crumbling. He was already submitting to my commands as though it was natural.

  I enjoyed the feeling of power for a moment or two and then leaned over to speak to him, this time softly and kindly.

  “If you are really hungry and you promise to be very good from now on, you can have some dinner.”

  “I think I’d be too embarrassed to eat now!” Nick replied, and I watched as a deep red blush infused his cheeks.

  I savoured my dinner that night, relishing every mouthful as Nick watched and occasionally swigged at his glass of water. All of the wait staff came past to check everything was okay – no doubt our waitress had been gossiping and they all wanted to watch this sexy hunk of a man being held in check by a woman. His gaze followed every single mouthful and I’m sure I caught a couple of whimpers as a particularly juicy morsel caused me to lick my lips.

  I finished every scrap, and it was just a matter of seconds before the unusually attentive waitress was whisking the plate away and asking if we wanted anything else. I asked to see the dessert menu and couldn’t resist a chuckle as Nick let out a low moan of desire.

  I took a while to reach my decision. “I’m going to have the chocolate torte.” I eventually stated. “Nick here will get his dessert when I get him home.”

  The waitress giggled and Nick blushed crimson. I kicked off a shoe and let my foot reach out to his groin. Judging by how hard he was, he was definitely looking forward to dessert. I quickly snatched my foot away, but not without provoking another unmistakable whimper.

  When the dessert arrived, Nick’s expression was priceless. There was a thick slice of heavy dark chocolate torte, a small mound of ice cream, a swirl of sauce and a scattering of succulent redcurrants. It looked almost too good to eat. Another soft moan escaped his lips. Could it possibly be that he wanted the chocolate almost as much as he wanted the rest of his punishment? He was practically drooling.

  I sliced through the torte and dragged the sliver through the sauce and the ice cream. “Open your mouth” I commanded and Nick smiled and opened wide. It was a superb dessert and his eyes closed in ecstasy at the taste. “Good?” I asked and he nodded his response. “Shame you haven’t been good enough to enjoy more of it,” I teased.

  Again I savoured every last morsel. It was even harder for him to watch quietly knowing how divinely rich that slab of chocolate was, how sweet the ice cream and how deliciously sharp and tangy the sauce. As I scooped up one of the redcurrants and dangled it in front of my mouth, I couldn’t resist another tease. “I love redcurrants” I told him “They are so sweet and juicy and exactly the colour your arse will be when I finish spanking it tonight.” I hadn’t noticed the waitress standing just behind me, but her choke at my words sent that rosy blush over Nick’s cheek’s again.

  I saved the last spoonful for Nick and served it to him with a juicy redcurrant perched right on top, reminding him that his punishment wasn’t over.

  Within a minute of arriving back at my place, he was over my lap with his trousers round his knees as I delivered the spanking we were both waiting for. First a few brisk spanks with my hand to warm him up and start the reddening, enough on its own to have him moaning a few times and grinding his cock into my thigh, but that was just the start. I reached for my trusty leather paddle and pounded that sexy bottom until it was as rosy as the redcurrant from the restaurant. He was writhing so much that my skirt soon rucked up and left his cock brushing against the lace tops of my stockings; it was clear that my new friend knew just how to take his punishment. I kept up a steady rhythm until the redness was seamless across his buttocks and didn’t fade between strokes. Then it was time for a change of pace and I drizzled a small trickle of massage oil onto his bruised flesh and gently rubbed it in. His cock was rock hard now and twitching against my thigh leaving a trail of pre-cum on my stocking top.

  “You really are a very naughty boy.” I told him as I reached for a new paddle. My hand closed on the beautiful antique hairbrush I keep on my dresser, solid oak with a beautiful inlay. It looked wonderful, and I knew it felt even better. Nick looked up as I stroked the rich wood and tried to brace himself for the inevitable, but there was no preparing for what was to come. He yelped like an injured puppy when the wood smacked into his soft, already rosy bottom. His cry of pain and surprise had barely faded when the next blow landed followed by another and another until his arse was afire and the air was full of cries and profanity.

  However loud the protests, his cock was growing harder with every strike. I rained blows on him harder and faster, escalating to a frenzied pace. His cock ground into my thighs with equal enthusiasm and he bucked in perfect synchronisation with my rhythm as I landed the brush time and again against his throbbing cheeks.

  He cried and whimpered and thrashed with every stroke, growing wilder and wilder until at last he could hold back no more. Tears streamed down his face, his arse glowed crimson and his cock gushed jets of hot sticky cum all over my lap as he let loose a deep throaty cry that was almost a scream.

  I pulled him into a tight embrace. Nick sobbed for a good few minutes, blurting out an apology through the tears and burrowing into my shoulder as the sensations slowly subsided. He tried to talk, but his voice was hoarse from the yelping and wailing and so I held him in silence until the shaking stopped and he was resting in my arms.

  “You know why you had to be punished?” I asked, and he nodded. “And you know that if you’re bad again I’ll have to punish you again?” Again the nod. “And you want to be good?” Another nod. “Then come here,” I said and pulled him towards me for a long overdue kiss.

  Such sweet kisses, there was no mistaking the hunger we felt for each other. The need for more was undeniable. We clung together, grasping at each other and pressing closer and closer together. Soon our hands and mouths began to explore every new curve of each others bodies.

  “I promised you dessert” I whispered as my dress was slid off and dropped on the floor. “You can
have chocolate cake, ice cream or me …”

  “No contest!” he replied, smiling wickedly as he slowly slid my panties down my legs.” You’ve given me my just desserts and now you’re going to get yours.

  Harsher Measures

  by Laurel Aspen

  Sophie – categorically not a morning person – had behaved with quite unforgivable rudeness to me at breakfast. After staying over at my place one night she’d eschewed conversation and instead snapped and sulking with petulant ill grace until finally I called a halt. She’d been acting like a wilful brat for several days previously and I determined this to be the moment of truth. Time to impose the discipline my girlfriend so obviously lacked by punishing her for real.

  “All right, young lady,” I said angrily. “I’ve had quite enough of your continued selfish mood and bad temper. It’s high time you had those knickers taken down for a hard and painful hiding.” To my amazement, rather than a petulant response, I received immediate acquiescence.

  “All right,” she said quietly her voice quavering with crestfallen resignation, almost as if she’d being expecting this dictat and avoiding my forthright gaze, “I suppose I have been asking for it.”

  “Very well then,” I said solemnly, “I’m in a rush for work now so shall punish you this evening, that’ll give you 12 hours to think about your behaviour.”

  Sophie looked petulant. “And 12 hours to imagine what sort of penalty you’ll inflict upon my poor bare bum,” she said miserably, no doubt recalling her first chastising encounter with ‘harsher measures’, several months previously.

  That particular reckoning had involved a part of the body previously unvisited for such purposes. I’d bade Sophie, naked but for a pair of high heels, approach an upright armless chair and made her kneel up on the seat cushion facing towards the rear. Hands clamped between thighs and calves, chin up, naked rump pertly outthrust. It took a considerable effort of will on my part not to be distracted by her deliciously bouncy boobs, resting lightly upon the chair back. !Initially not in the least surprised to have her bottom rendered hot and sore with a slipper Sophie reacted with unfeigned outrage and fear when I proceeded to lightly whip her fulsome bosom. Although only employing a light suede-thonged flogger, her breasts were soon visibly marked and stinging, tears coursing down her woebegone face. Beautiful brown eyes wide, Sophie implored me, promising anything – a blowjob, a tit fuck – if I would only stop this torture.