The New Partner – Part 1

the new partner

After some hiatus I have begun writing again.  This is much longer than I would normally write and will come in five parts. 

***

I stood in the lobby of the Grand Hotel, drumming my fingers on the desk. They had ‘lost’ my reservation which, I knew, would have been triple-checked before my departure by my ever-faithful assistant, Keira.

I hated this sort of incompetence and after an eleven-hour flight sitting next to the sweetest old lady in the world, and then wanting to throttle that same little old lady after the first hour; my nerves were a little worse for wear. I felt unkempt and gritty even though to anyone who chanced to look I would be immaculately presented. The crisp white blouse underneath my favourite navy pinstripe suit, blonde hair neatly coiffed at my neck and black Italian stilettos, that cost more than the girl behind the desk probably made in a week.

“Look, I need to shower, something to eat and then sleep, in that order. Now if you would kindly move things along a little faster I could get out of the clothes I have been in for the last 12 hours,” I snapped, knowing I wasn’t being very nice and no longer cared.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance,” sounded a deep voice from behind me. I whirled around and looked up to eye the stranger who eyed me back with one dark brow raised. He had not, as it happened, been talking to me so I turned back to the receptionist and ignored him.

“Ms Forster will be sharing a room with me.” said the stranger. Just how did he know my name?

“No, she bloody well won’t!” I cried.

“I made the arrangements already, and I am sure the room will meet with your approval,” he said as he turned fully towards me. Men who are about to get on my bad side shouldn’t look this good. “Your assistant, Keira, was faxed the details. I am surprised you were not apprised of the new plans.” Keira would pray for death when I get back.

“Mr…,” I started. “Jamison” he supplied. “Right, Mr Jamison, I don’t know who you think you are but this really is an intolerable proposal. I don’t know you at all and refuse to share a room with anyone, let alone someone I have never met.” My mind was working overtime, Jamison…Jamison, why was that name familiar. I was missing something big here but the long flight and my tiredness wouldn’t let my brain figure it out.

The concierge decided to join the conversation at this point. “I’m afraid there are no other rooms available. The hotel is now booked.” My head swivelled round and I pinned her with a laser eye. “What did you say?” The woman visibly moved back from the counter as if I was about to leap over it and strangle her…she wasn’t far wrong.

“Ms Forster, perhaps I wasn’t clear enough. My name is Jamison, Troy Jamison, your new business partner.” Oh. My. God. I had an overwhelming urge to punch him in the face. Instead, I took two, three, alright ten deep breaths before responding.

“Be that as it may, I still don’t see why I have to share your room. I am going to another hotel.”

“That’s ridiculous.  At least come and see the room; it is a large suite with separate rooms, if it is not to your liking, then I shall personally pay for another hotel for you.”

He was being so calm and reasonable I had to acquiesce because I knew my frustration was simply due to tiredness. Besides I could tell him just what I thought once in the suite, it’s not right to cause such a scene in the lobby. I ignored the fact that I had already made a scene in the lobby.

We made our way to the 15th, it was indeed a beautiful suite with lovely décor.  Large and spacious with separate lounge and dining areas, as well as two rooms at opposite ends of the suite. In fact, it was an ideal arrangement, considering we would be spending a great deal of time together on the proposals.

“It’s fine, I suppose,” was all I could muster. Our luggage was brought in at this point and Troy tipped the bellhop. I decided to head off to my room.

We both grabbed for my luggage at the same time cracking heads in the process, which only caused my ire to rise once again. I almost fell over and he grabbed me to steady me.

I pushed him away harshly and yelled, “Just leave me alone, it’s not bad enough my father decides to sell off half the company to a fucking stranger but now said stranger thinks he can manhandle me. You are very much mistaken, sir!”

And with that said I turned on my heel to go to my room leaving him standing with his mouth ajar.

Before I could take one more step I was spun around and hoisted over his shoulder.

“Sir, is exactly what you will call me from now on,” he stated and with me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, marched into my room.

He flung me down on the bed and I bounced lightly. I was quickly turned onto my stomach and dragged to the edge of the bed so my knees were on the floor. Effectively bent over the end of the bed, I struggled but he was too strong and held me down.

“Let go of me or I shall scream!” I yelled into the bed covers whilst fear and a very inappropriate response of arousal brought my body to life.

“No, you’re going to stay there and listen to someone else for a change. I am not going to harm you, I just want you to calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

“This is hardly a very dignified position to listen to someone,” I said

“You were hardly a very dignified person so the position fits. You have been nothing but rude to me and those around you since I met you. Are you always this way?” he asked sternly.

“I have been on a plane for eleven hours and all I want is a little comfort, I would have thought that wasn’t too much to ask.”

“So have I, but I have been able to remain calm and pleasant to those around me. First things first, I want you to apologise.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s not an apology Zarah.” Damn I liked the way my name sounded coming from his lips, his deep voice washing over me.

I sighed into the bed cover, “I’m sorry, I was very rude.”

“I’m sorry…what?” he asked.

I frowned, thinking, “I’m sorry…Troy?”

Then I was sure the sky had fallen down because I felt a sudden stinging sensation and it just couldn’t be what I thought it was; Troy had brought his hand down smartly on my backside and smacked me.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I tried to wriggle away but he got a firm grip on me, and before I could utter another word he had me positioned stomach down over his knee. The man was ridiculously strong.

“I’m just getting you in a position so we can have a more serious discussion. Now, you are sorry…. what?”

I wracked my brain to understand what he wanted, then remembered his half-muttered thing about sir when we entered the room.  Surely, he wasn’t serious.  “I’m sorry…Sir?” I asked and sighed again, just how had I ended up here? More importantly, why was I going along with it and not screaming bloody murder.  This was certainly not the time to acknowledge any underlying desire to know how it felt to be spanked, no not the time at all!

“It’s a start, but I’m not sure of your sincerity. Besides you are in need of some stress management and I think I have the thing to help you with that.”

“I was sincere. Please…Sir, I am sorry for that horrible remark.” I actually was sorry, how odd that I was even allowing any of this. A part of me felt I should atone for my rudeness.

“I believe you, but I still think you are in need of something more. Will you trust me to help you with this?”

“Help me, with what?”

That earned me another smack. “Help me, with what…Sir?”

“I want permission to spank you,” he said and I wondered if he realised the irony in that he had already spanked me a couple of times.  I tried to push up when I heard this. “Keep still, let me explain first. You are worn out from your flight, angry, emotional and stressed; a fair analysis?”

“Yes Sir.” No hesitation this time, I noticed.

“This may well help you, the spanking I mean. It can help release the stress. You were also very rude and that deserves punishment in itself.”

Strangely enough I did want to release the stress, and the pressures this job placed on me; perhaps this will even make me feel less guilty for being such a shrew tonight, I am not normally like this. “I’m not sure, I’ve never done anything like this before. Have you?”

“Yes, many times. It will hurt, but no more than you can bear and you may even find you cry real tears, but you won’t have to deal with it alone. I’ll be with you all of the way. What do you think?”

“Oh…what if…what if I want to stop?”

“Say Red and I will stop, but I only want you to say this if you truly can’t take what is happening. Okay?”

I thought for a moment longer. I was about to consent for this man, that I hardly knew, to spank me. “How does this work, I need to know more…Sir.”

“I will spank you with my hand over your trousers and we will see where we go from there, but it will most likely end in a bare bottom spanking for you to really feel the benefit.”

I thought on what he had said and made up my mind to go through with whatever he asked of me. I was so tired of always being in charge and I did bottle it all up inside me, would this really help me feel better? “Okay Sir, I consent for you to spank me.”

“Good girl, you have made a fine start.”

Go to Part 2

Barely Touched – FFF

BillConstruction worker

I run my tongue up his bare torso, tasting the sweat, teasing his nipples.  My hands follow, his heart races beneath my touch.  He wastes no time spinning me around and tears open my blouse roughly cupping my naked breasts.  Pushing me forward he yanks up my skirt and slaps my exposed bottom.  Soaked panties pushed aside as he drives into me giving me sweet relief…

“Stop ogling those workmen and get back to work girl!” the office manager growls, breaking my reverie. I scurry back to my cubicle with a secret smile on my lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Submission for Flash Fiction Friday, no longer hosted.

The River – FFF

lookingglassfalls1

The only place to cross the river was upstream, near the waterfall.  Beware the ferryman, they joked.

To my surprise a woman was there, with sweet turquoise eyes and golden hair cascading around her soft naked hips.

“You may not pass here,” she stated.

“I must,” I replied.

“There is a price.”

“I will pay.”

“Kiss me.”

I did as she bid, her passion intoxicating.  With lips and tongue she aroused me unbearably and as I sank into her I realised too late her price.  There would be no crossing now or ever.

~~~~<//>~~~~

Submission for Flash Fiction Friday, no longer hosted.

The Trials of Spring

spring

It was the first day of spring and she’d had enough of being indoors.  The weather had finally turned and she decided upon a stroll about her garden.  Everything was in bloom and it made her heart sing to smell the delicate fragrance of honeysuckle and see the bees flitting from flower to flower.

The beauty of the surrounds made it all the more distressing when she happened upon her gardener on his knees, weeding the flower beds, completely nude.

“What do you think you’re doing?”  she asked, her voice rising more than she meant to.

The wretched man didn’t bat an eyelid, just stood up, turned to face her and grinned.

“Oh, just finishing the weeding.  Hoped to have it all done before you ventured outdoors.  But, well, here you are.”

“Yes, here I am.  You have nothing on you know,” she blurted out.

“I’m aware of that.  Is that a problem?”

“Yes, actually, it is.”

“Why? It was clearly stated in my contract.”

“Your what?” she asked incredulously.

“My contract, it’s a document that sets out the…”

“I know what a contract is,” she snapped, pushing her spectacles back to the bridge of her nose.

“Well mine states I will garden nude.  It’s not my problem if you didn’t read it properly,” he said with a decisive nod.

It was about this time that she noticed a decidedly mischievous twinkle in the man’s eye and took a different tack.

“A contract you say.  Hmmm, I have standing terms and conditions for any contractors that work on my estate, would you like to hear them?”

“I suppose they only apply to nude gardeners.”

“But of course,” she smirked.

“Why don’t I tell you what your terms and conditions are?”

She thought about that for a moment and nodded for him to continue, wondering just where it might go.

 

“I would think they include some sort of punishment,” says the man and then looks around. “You might make him bend over that bird bath there and give him twenty good strokes with that pretty leather belt you’re wearing.”

 

She looked down at the belt and then back at him as a slow smile spread across her face.  “Well done, I see you did read them.  Best get comfy then.”

She had him lie across the bird bath, undid her belt and drew it through the loops.  Placing a hand on his back to steady him she raised her right arm and let fly with the belt.  As it cracked across both cheeks she said, “next time, I hope you remember to bring your clothes.”

“Next time, I hope you remember to bring your paddle,” was his reply which caused him to get quite a few more than twenty good strokes.

So, it came to pass that the Lady and the Gardener found an enjoyable way to celebrate the first day of spring.

“All I want for Christmas…

magiclamp1

…is a good hard spanking!” Christie said aloud to herself and sighed heavily.

Christmas Eve and she should be snuggled up with her ideal man receiving a lovely spanking.  Instead she was working late having promised her boss she would get all the silverware in the small antique shop polished before she left for the night.  If that wasn’t bad enough it was raining heavily and she would have to walk home in it given her car had broken down that morning. She was onto the final cabinet but figured it was still a few hours work and sighing again picked up the closest piece which happened to be an ornate lamp and began to polish.

A flash of blue light streaked out of the lamp followed by wisps of smoke and with a loud clap of thunder a tall, dark haired man stood before her.  He wore black silk billowing pants and little else giving her an expansive view of his bronzed and muscled torso.  Gold curly slippers finished off the minimalist ensemble.

“Thank you, thank you, tiny mortal,” he said in a deep voice and made a bow.  “For freeing me, I grant you wishes three.”

“What?!” Christie said with incredulity.

“You know how it goes, everybody knows how it goes.   You freed me from that cursed lamp so I shall grant you three wishes.”

“Like a genie?”

“I’m a Djinn!” the Djinn growled. “I am not a genie, genies are girls, do I look like a girl?”

Christie looked over six foot of rippling muscle and sinew and shook her head, he most definitely did not look like a girl.

“Of course not,” he continued. “Genie’s bow before me with their puny power.  I can command the wind, the seas, the…”

“…and yet you ended up inside this lamp.”

“Quiet, girl!” he bellowed, and then immediately relented.  “Pissed off the wrong person by accidentally kissing a relative of theirs.  Saint Nick can be a real prick.”

“Hmm, I bet.” Said Christie, thinking on that. “Does that mean you’ve been in there a year?”

“Not sure really, time doesn’t work the same in there as it does out here.  Anyway, come tiny mortal tell me your three wishes, time is wasting and I have much to do.”

Christie rolled her eyes, gave some thought to what she might want and then made her first wish.

“Alright, I want all this silverware polished and sparkling.”

The Djinn rubbed his palms together clapped his hands three times and with a theatrical puff of silver smoke and all the silverware gleamed. Christie could hardly believe her eyes and with mouth agape walked slowly around the shop to take it all in.

“Nice work!” she said and the Djinn bowed once again.

“Your second wish?”

“That it would stop raining…just until I get home you understand. I am not asking you to divert the natural course of the weather indefinitely or anything.”

Now it was the Djinn’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Not leaving anything to chance huh?”

“Nope”

“Right,” and once again the Djinn rubbed his hands together clapped them three times and with blue smoke and the raining slowly stopped, the clouds parted and the stars and moon shone down on the shop.

“Yesss!” cried Christie jumping in the air.

The Djinn smiled at her. “Your final wish?”

“Ummm…”

“Yes?  You can have anything you desire.  All the riches of the world, a mansion on your own island.  Anything.”

“No, my tastes are somewhat more simplistic than that.  I want to find the man of my dreams, that’s my last wish.”

“Any stipulations?”

“Well, only one really…he must be into spanmbmbmb,” she mumbled out the last word.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that last bit.”

Christie blushed bright red and fidgeted for a bit before raising her head and looking directly at the djinn.

“I said he must be into spanking me.”

“Oh,” the Djinn laughed in surprise, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”  For the last time, he rubbed his palms together and then clapped his hands three times and this time the smoke was black and when it evaporated there was no change in the shop.

“Hey, where is he.”

“Who?”

“You know who, don’t give me that.  Where is the man of my dreams?”

“Do not fret little mortal, your wish has been granted and you will meet him before the clock strikes twelve.”

“Midnight,” Christie screamed at him as she looked at her watch. “It’s eleven o’clock now, that only leaves one hour.  What is this some kind of scam?”

“I do not like your tone.  You got the other wishes granted so why doubt this one?”

“Because I can’t see that this one has been granted.  I think you’ve short changed me.”

“I am not used to being spoken to like this, you should be trembling before me.”

“Fat chance, genie-boy I want to talk to your superior.”

“Oh, so that is how you want to play it, well I have a better idea.”

Before Christie could think another thought the Djinn had swung her over his knee, raised her skirt and began spanking her exposed bottom rather firmly.  His hand rose and fell again and again and Christie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so she just sort of moaned instead.  Her long held fantasy and desire was finally being fulfilled.  It hurt, she felt embarrassed, humiliated even and yet loved every second of it, she wished it could go on forever.   Each swat was felt keenly and Christie found herself raising her bottom to meet each smack, as if asking for more.

“So, you want someone to spank you, do you? I can see why, you deserve to be spanked,” The Djinn rambled on without letting up on the pace.

“Jerk!”

“Yes, just asking for it aren’t you,” the Djinn remarked and with a deft flick of his hand ripped her silk panties off and resumed spanking her now bare bottom which was already quite pink.

“Neanderthal!”

“Brat!” By now the Djinn was whacking away at her pink tush determined to make it bright red, but the woman seemed to take whatever he dished out.

“Ow, it really hurts you know, can’t you stop now,” asked Christie.

“No!”

“Oh good, I hoped you’d say that,” Christie laughed in between yelps of pain.

The Djinn grinned whilst he continued his ‘work’, never in his long life had he engaged in something quite as delightful as this.  All those years he had missed out.

“Now, say sorry for calling me genie-boy.”

“Shan’t.”

Holding Christie tight with one arm the Djinn removed one of his slippers and raised it high above her red and sore bottom.

“Say sorry, or I shall make you sorry.”

“No, you are the one who should be apologising.”

“Fine, I will take that as a request to continue. You see this fine slipper?”  He held it in front of Christie’s eyes.

“Yes.”

“That will get my apology,” and without further discussion lands the slipper hard across her sit spots.

“Owww, not fair.”

“No, maybe not, but it is fun,” said the Djinn and sets up a staccato with the slipper that had Christie yelping and squirming in record time.  He didn’t let up no matter how much she pleaded and he had a suspicion that she was enjoying it far more than even she realised.

“Please, please…ooh…it hurts, please stop.”

“One little word.”

“Ouch…ahhh, nooo mooore…I can’t take any more.”

“It begins with s.  You can do it.”  The Djinn continuously spanked each cheek back and forth with great vigour.

“Oooooowwwwwwww…….SORRY!”

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” said the Djinn with great satisfaction.  He helped Christie to stand and put the slipper back on his foot. Christie just gazed at him breathing hard then threw her arms around his neck.

“Kiss me,” she panted and captured his lips for a hungry kiss which he returned with as much enthusiasm, his hands sliding down her backside to cup and knead her sore bottom.  Christie moaned into the Djinn’s mouth as he pulled her tight against him. In that moment, a strange red and white mist filled the room and a shocked voice rang out.

“What the blazes is going on here?”

The Djinn and Christie sprang apart as if caught doing something forbidden. Christie rubbed her eyes at the sight before her but there was no mistaking it, Santa Claus, good old Saint Nick, stood before them and he would be in no doubt as to whether she was naughty or nice.

“Look Nick, I can explain everything,” started the Djinn only to be cut off abruptly.

“Be quiet!  Just can’t keep your hands or anything else to yourself can you…you don’t even have the excuse of mistletoe this time.” Yelled Saint Nick.  The Djinn glowered at him but kept quiet.

Saint Nick turned to Christie.  “As for you Missy, you shouldn’t be encouraging one such as him.  Looks like you both need a lesson…a time out you, might say.”

Christie blushed and tried to hide behind the Djinn.

“You didn’t learn from the first lesson Djinn, let’s see if you learn from this one.” Santa waved his hands and muttered some words.  Christie felt herself melting or evaporating she wasn’t sure and before she could adjust found herself in a gorgeous carpeted room with large cushions everything.

“Welcome to my pad baby, hope you like it, we could be here a long time,” said the Djinn as he sauntered towards her.

“Are we inside the lamp?”

“Yes, don’t worry I am not completely powerless it has all the mod cons and this curse comes complete with regular trips to the beach so it is not as bad as you might think.  Now, ah, how about we pick up where we left off.”

“Is that all you can think about?”

“Ahh, yeah, it’s hard not to when I know you’ve got no panties on.”

Christie shook her head trying to clear it and glanced at her watch, it read midnight and saw that it had stopped.  She looked at the Djinn and realised her bottom still glowed from the delicious spanking he had delivered, only now other parts of her glowed too.

“You did grant that final wish after all, you are my ideal man.”

The Djinn nodded and smiled.  “That’s why Mrs Claus made sure my lamp ended up in your dingy shop.”

“Dingy?! Why you arrogant, pigheaded, beast!” Cried Christie and picked up the nearest cushion and flung it at him.

“Now now, you know where that sort of behaviour will get you.”

Christie laughed and jumped into his arms.  “Well one can always wish.”

Halloween Hope

The Halloween party was in full swing by the time Jerrod arrived.  Ghosts, pirates, vampires, fairies, witches and the odd Frankenstein danced around with drinks and finger food.  A macabre cocktail party.  He had never been to one of Mara’s Halloween parties which was surprising considering they had been friends since childhood.

Jerrod scanned the crowd hoping to glimpse Kel but she was nowhere to be seen. Kel and he met a couple of weeks ago, by chance when he dropped by Mara’s workplace and since then had seen each other every day.

Kel was something else; long brown hair, smoky grey eyes and though of a similar height to Jerrod she had a presence that made her seem taller somehow.  In a room, she did not go unnoticed.

Jerrod felt two arms slide around his waist as a teasing mouth nipped at his neck.

“Hello lover, what kept you?” Kel whispered softly biting his earlobe.

“I got tied up,” Jerrod responded.

“By anyone I know?”

Jerrod laughed, she said this sort of thing often.  He turned in her arms and captured her mouth with his for a hungry and searing kiss then stood back to appraise her.  Kel looked stunning in a sort of vampiress get-up comprising a black corset, tight leather mini-skirt and thigh high boots.  Jerrod caught his breath; add a whip and she was his fantasy domme come to life.  Shivers coursed through him; he harboured hope.

“You look fantastic!” Jerrod said.

“Thank you.  I see you are Han Solo, what a dashing hero you make.  Pity you didn’t come as Chewbacca I could have lead you around in handcuffs.”

Jerrod figured on being Chewbacca at the next costume party and hoped it was soon.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No thanks, maybe later, but for now…Mara has this place all decked out, come on let’s go have a look around.  She even has a dungeon set up downstairs,” Kel winked at Jerrod as she lead him away.

The dungeon was really a lock up garage that Mara had converted for some extra Halloween atmosphere and for anything else her guests might want.  There was a St Andrews Cross at one end and stocks at another.  Various implements of torture hung from one of the walls, some for show, some for play.  The crossed swords and axes added to the detail and the walls had been painted to look like bricks.  A fake skeleton also hung from chains its mouth ajar as though in agony or perhaps ecstasy one couldn’t quite tell.  Next to the fake skeleton was a hidden door that opened to a small bathroom, it stood ajar and Kel closed it off as she walked past.

Jerrod was amazed at how much work Mara had gone to and they both wandered around the room looking and touching various things.

“She’s gone to a lot of trouble,” Jerrod noted.

“Oh, she always puts on a great Halloween bash,” replied Kel.

“I’ve always been out of town, usually visit with family this time of year, so I’ve never been to one of her parties before.”

“Then we shall have to ensure this is one you won’t soon forget.”

Jerrod was staring at the St Andrews Cross.

“Where did she get this gear from?”

“Oh, borrowed it from a friend I believe.  Fancy a go? A bad boy like you really deserves to be tied to one of these.”

Jerrod couldn’t believe his ears, he went to turn around but Kel was behind him and kept him in place.  She gently marched him forward.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Kel nipped his earlobe again.  “You try so hard to keep it inside but I see it, all that desire shimmering on the surface. You like it when I take over, don’t you? You find it exciting, it arouses you.”

It wasn’t really a question but Jerrod answered anyway.

“Yes.”

“Then here is the perfect opportunity to see what fun we can have.  Give me you left hand.”

Jerrod did as he was told and she secured the arm to the X-frame.

“Now the other.”

Kel took Jerrod’s other arm and secured that also.  She had not secured him tightly just enough for him to feel immobilised but not so he didn’t feel he had lost all control.

“Comfortable?”

“Ah, yes,” Jerrod was unsure but wanted to see where this might lead.

“Well now,” Kel continued, “let’s have a little chat shall we.  I have a bone to pick with you.”

Kel slid her hands down the front of Jerrod’s pants and rubbed his cock which had already begun to swell whilst she tied him up.

“Not that bone, but oh my, you do seem to be enjoying yourself.  However, that is not what I wanted to discuss. Here we are two weeks into a delightful romance and I think it high time we both come clean.  You see, I don’t normally date men like you.”

“What do you mean, men like me?” Jerrod asked confused.

“I mean I don’t date vanilla men.  Do you understand what I mean by that?”

Kel continued to explore him with her hands as she spoke; teasing his nipples, cupping his balls and biting his neck.  He should be worried about someone walking in but at the moment couldn’t care less, surely, she had locked the door.

“Yes, I understand, but there’s something I should tell you.”

“You don’t have to darling, I already know.  Couldn’t believe my luck.”

“How did you…” Jerrod broke off…Mara, damnit he knew he said too much the last time they got drunk together.

“Well Mara and I have been friends for a long time too and there isn’t much we don’t discuss.  But, I digress, as I said I have a bone to pick with you.”

Kel’s hands continued their torturous play and he was as hard as rock though it seemed she wasn’t ready to grant him any satisfaction just yet.

“As I said, here we are two weeks into a delightful romance full of possibilities and what do I find out?  You still have your profile open on Tinder.  Asking you to close any profiles on dating sites obviously was not an explicit enough request.  Perhaps I just don’t speak plainly enough for you? Hmm?”  She pinched his nipples hard and Jerrod gasped out his answer.

“No, it’s not that, I just thought…”

“Thought what?”

“That I should keep my options open, in case you weren’t interested in…” Jerrod got out with difficulty and hung his head in shame.

“But I am and do you know what happens now?”

“I’ll close it immediately, now if I can use Mara’s computer.”

Kel laughed and nuzzled his ear. “Of course, you will just as soon as you are free to but for now punishment is in order.”

Jerrod didn’t think he could get any harder but her laughter, warm breath and that word made him feel dizzy with lust.  He felt her hands at his belt and seconds later his pants falling to his feet.  He desperately hoped he wouldn’t disgrace himself and come before she even touched him and God he hoped the door was locked.

Kel pushed Jerrod’s underpants down but they got caught on his erection.  She yanked them freeing him to the cool air and gripped him in her fist to slide slowly up and down his length a few times.  Jerrod gritted his teeth trying to hold himself together. Kel let go of him and raked her nails gently over exposed buttocks and gave them both a hearty slap.

“How lovely to see my handprint there, it is almost like a mark of ownership.  In fact, that is very much how I feel right now.  But that isn’t what we are here for.  This is not a good angle for spanking with my hand, so I think I shall use a paddle instead. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“You’re doing wonderfully and later we shall discuss all this in depth but for now…well let’s get this punishment out of the way.  I’m just going to the opposite side of the room and will be right back…don’t go anywhere.”

Tied to the St Andrews Cross Jerrod could do nothing of the sort and he heard the laughter in her voice at her own joke and smiled to himself. She couldn’t believe her luck?  Neither could he. A moment later he heard her boot heels clicking across the floor toward him.

“Since this is our first time together like this I’ll keep it simple.  A dozen you will receive, no a baker’s dozen since we will be toasting buns.  You will count them out for me.”

“Alright.”

Kel delivered the first six, with increasing intensity so the first was with enough sting to get his attention and the last with enough bite for him to realise he had to endure seven more.

“One…two…three…four…five…six…” Jerrod uttered aloud after each one.

“Nicely taken, but remember this is a punishment and I would like you to remember them for at least an hour or two, so are you ready for the next six?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“Kel, please give me the last six.”

“Good boy.” Kel dragged Jerrod’s head back by his hair and kissed him ravenously which he returned with as much gusto.

Kel then laid on six of her best at full swing.  She spaced them out so Jerrod could catch his breath after each one and delighted in his groans and moans.

“Seven… ..eight……..nine………ten….ohhh….eleven…..ahhhhh…..twelve.  Thank you, Kel,” Jerrod said stoically trying not to show how much it had hurt or how much he cherished every one.

“Thanking me so soon?  Why, we are not finished.  A baker’s dozen consists of thirteen not twelve,” Kel said softly.  It sounded to Jerrod as though she too was out of breath.  Was it possible she enjoyed this as much as he did?

“Thirteen,” Kel continued, “unlucky for some, but not for us, not tonight.  I’m going to untie you but want you to remain in the same position for this last one.”

“Okay,” Jerrod agreed, it’s only one more after all.

Kel let fly with the last spank and managed to catch him squarely across the tops of his thighs sending a searing pain through the area.  He had thought the other twelve were hard but nothing compared to this last one and yelped in response.

“Get down on your knees now,” Kel ordered.

Jerrod did so without thinking and watched as Kel hiked her skin-tight skirt up to her waist.  She wasn’t wearing any panties and the sight of her neatly trimmed pubic hair and soaked pussy made his mouth water.

“Put your mouth on me.”

And he did, with pleasure.  Her taste overwhelmed his senses and her moans aroused him unbearably as he licked, sucked and caressed her intimate flesh.  She held his head to her as his tongue speared into her, lapping at her wet core.  He felt the fine tremors in her and continued his assault bent on ensuring her pleasure until he heard her cry out in delight and grip him tightly.  His mouth was flooded with her essence and he eagerly drank her in.

Kel moved away from him, her chest heaving and looked down to see his cock as erect as before.  She immediately pushed him onto his back and straddled him on the floor taking his shaft inch by inch into her hot depths.  Finesse be damned, he gripped her hips as she rode him and muscles corded and straining he came with blinding intensity.

Jerrod held Kel tight to him as their breathing returned to normal.  She pushed herself up to lean on his chest and look at his face.

“You alright?” she asked.

“Never better,” Jerrod grinned at her.

“Come on time to get back to the party, besides someone else might want to use this room.”

They used the hidden bathroom to clean up and put their clothes back in order.  Kel kissed Jerrod and smiled.

“Well, they would have got a hell of an earful if they were listening at the door,” Jerrod said continuing the conversation.

“An eyeful you mean, I never locked the door.”

“What?  Then all that time…Oh.”

“Yes, Oh.  Don’t worry if anybody had come in they would just have been jealous at the delicious scene we made.  Now, we have some other business to attend to do we not?  Unless you have changed your mind.  Best to speak up now.”

“No, quite the opposite my beautiful Kel, quite the opposite.”

“Then Happy Halloween, darling Jerro.  Let’s go find Mara.”

A Hand Up

Something wasn’t right, hadn’t been right for some time in fact.  She felt out of sorts, not at all herself, emotionally fragile.   Of course, she knew the cause and that it was temporary.  Her life was off kilter and though that would soon change the going wasn’t easy.  In the meantime, something had to be done…

“You’re quite sure?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes, of course,” Edwina smiled.

“It’s just that…”

“Oh, do get on with it!”

Malcolm laughed aloud.  “Alright,” and he grasped her hand gently but firmly and helped her to lie over his lap.  “Now, your safe word is Mollywoppy and I shan’t stop until I hear it.  Understood?”

“Yes, but it’s very silly.”

Malcolm brought his hand down soundly on Edwina’s bottom still safely covered with her skirt.

“Ow,” Edwina complained, Malcolm ignored her.  “What if I don’t remember it?”

“Well then that will be your problem and the spanking will continue.”

“You are a beast!” declared Edwina beginning to have some fun.

“Indeed,” agreed Malcolm with a wide grin and flipped Edwina’s skirt up.  She had, of course, already discarded her underwear.

A short warm up and Malcolm settled into a steady spanking rhythm making sure he was covering all the surface available with a few to the tops of Edwina’s thighs to keep her attention.

“Mmm, that is nice, though you could do less of the ones to my thighs, they do sting a bit,” said Edwina wiggling in a suggestive manner.

Malcolm laughed wickedly. “Once in this position, my dear, you no longer have any say,” and to prove his point he increased the strength and tempo for a moment which made Edwina wriggle in a very different way.

“Oooh, it hurts!”

“Yeessss, I’m sure it does.  One word Winny and it could all be over. Would you like to say that word?”

“No.”

“Good girl. Now, the ping pong bat I think,” Malcolm shows Edwina the paddle which makes her squirm and then applies it lightly but very soon with increasing vigour.

Edwina squirms enough to disrupt her position so Malcolm pulls her back tight into his lap.  “Where do you think you’re going?  Like the song, we’ve only just begun.”

It goes from there, the bat to the paddle, back to the hand then the ruler, he has them all lined up and knows how to use each one.  The wooden spoon comes after then a nasty plastic spatula that stings even with light slaps.  Malcolm alternates hard with soft, light with heavy so Edwina never really knows what is coming next.  He takes her to the brink of saying her safe word and then stops to rub the reddening flesh and let her come down slowly only to take her up again.

Finally, Edwina was ready for the slipper.  Her bottom was a deep pink with a small amount of bruising showing, that wouldn’t worry Edwina she liked the reminder. Malcolm wanted the safe word, it was time.  He had taken her through the stages but there would be no tears here, it was not that sort of spanking.  No, this was not about contrition but connection.

“Say hello to Simon slipper,” said Malcolm as he showed the object to Edwina.

“Oh, hello,” Edwina replied sounding very unsure.

Malcolm rubbed ‘Simon’ over Edwina’s bottom and then ‘whap’ struck hard. Whap again, a few more spaced out then a quick staccato that had her legs flying up of their own accord.

“Ooh, ooh, ow, oh, ah,” cried Edwina.

“One word, one little word and the arnica cream will flow.”

Edwina stubbornly resisted, that strange war between her brain that said, ‘this hurts, give in’, and the will that says ‘never surrender’ battled on.  Malcolm grinned and went back to work, heavy hard slaps with the slipper fell again and again including the tops of Edwina’s thighs every third or fourth stroke.

Edwina wriggled, squirmed, moaned, howled but did not say the word to bring it all to an end.

Malcolm took matters into his own hands, not that they had ever left them, and decided a fast-paced finale was needed.  He spanked Edwina’s rear as fast as he could and as hard as he dared.  Edwina fairly roared her pain.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…MOLLYCODDLE!”

Malcolm stopped immediately.  “WHAT!” he yelled, feigning absolute outrage. “That is not the safe word!”

Edwina laughed which was quite difficult considering she was trying to catch her breath from the rather hard spanking.  She giggled uncontrollably so Malcolm simply began spanking her again.

“Mollycoddle, Mollycoddle?” Malcolm laughed.  “No, you better get it right, there will be no mollycoddling here, I assure you.”

The heavy slipper rose and fell over and over again but due to the small break and endorphin producing laughter Edwina seemed able to take even more on her poor backside.

Malcolm took it up another notch as before and the slipper was soon flying hard and fast with the desired outcome now inevitable.

“Oh, ah, ow,” wailed Edwina her bottom bouncing around on his lap with every strike, then…”MOLLYWOPPY!”

Malcolm put the slipper aside and rubbed her bottom with his warm palm as Edwina gasped lungfuls of air to catch her breath.  She went limp over his knee and laughing in a drowsy manner lay happily as Malcolm applied the soothing arnica cream.

Edwina slid off Malcolm’s lap resting on the floor with her head on his knee. He lifted her face to see her eyes shining and mouth smiling.  “Happy now?”

“Yes,” Edwina replied, “for now.  That was wonderful, thank you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes,” Malcolm said with a twinkle in his eye…