About the Fantasy Series
“What is your deepest, darkest, most secret fantasy?” Those words bring a chill to anyone. To reveal something so private, so personal, is difficult. Yet that’s exactly what we have here. In each story, a narrator reveals his or her most private fantasy. In the grand tradition of fantasies, it is a _fantasy_ –it may or may not be realistic or even physically possible. It is not necessarily something the person would really want to experience in real life, but the illusion can be appealing. But no matter how bizarre or incomprehensible, fantasies reveal something intimate about ourselves. So, learn and enjoy. And send me your fantasies!
____________________________The Flogmaster_____________________________
The college dean and I are alone in his office. He sits behind his desk. I sit in the chair before him, waiting. There’s a knock at the door. The door opens are Nikki walks in. She is stunning. She wears a white T-shirt and tight blue jeans. Nothing else. No shoes, no socks, no jewelry or make up.
Shyly she looks up at us. She is very surprised to see me. She is a little embarrassed, but she glances at me haughtily and looks at the principal. He glares at her. “Miss Dennis. Did you or did you not laugh at Mr. Layne, here, when he asked you to the game?”
Nikki’s face goes white. She glances at me and it is not a friendly glance. She nods to the tall man. He shakes his head. “This is very serious, I’m afraid,” he says, going to the filing cabinet behind his desk. On top rests the large wooden paddle. He takes it and comes to the front of the desk. Nikki is quite pale now, and her lower lip is trembling slightly.
“W-w-what are you doing?” she asks. “Don’t I have the right to choose my own dates?”
“That’s not the issue, Miss Dennis. The problem is that you *laughed* at Mr. Layne. That is will not be permitted here. You will be soundly punished for your crime.”
Nikki is very frightened now. She does not know what to do. She glances at me as though I can help her. I am a rock. She looks back to Mr. Irving but there is no mercy in his face. He is very angry with her. Lifting the paddle he walks over to me and places it in my hand. “Do your best, boy,” he says. “Don’t let her talk you out of giving it your all. Make her pay for her insolence.” Then he leaves.
Nikki stares at me, her pretty eyes wide and frightened. She is terrified and confused. “Take off your shirt.” I tell her. She does not listen. I order her again. She backs away from me. Her breasts are very visible pyramids on her chest. The T-shirt is tight. She turns and runs to the door. It is locked from the outside. We are trapped in here together.
“Take off your shirt,” I say again, and finally, crying, she starts to obey. “What are you doing to do?” she asks fearfully, looking at the paddle in my hand. “I’m going to punish you,” I say and she looks horrified. “Now come here!” She stands before me, her shirt on the floor, arms covering her naked breasts. She looks very fragile.
I place one foot on my chair and pull her across my knee. “This is going to hurt,” I say firmly, and I begin to paddle her bottom with the wooden board. She grunts and wiggles a great deal but doesn’t say anything.
After the first dozen I really begin to paddle her hard and she cries out.
“That *hurts!*” she screams. “What are you doing?” I ignore her and paddle her very hard for a long time. She moans and cries and wiggles but I do not let it distract me from the task at hand. She is still wearing her jeans so I know it cannot hurt that much. It is delightful to feel her wiggling across my leg, her breasts dangling beneath her. She has long since forgotten to keep them covered. The pain in her rump is too intense to be ignored.
Finally I stop spanking her and stand her up. “Take off your clothes,” I say, but she does not obey. Immediately she’s back over my knee, the big wooden board slamming into her gorgeous bottom again and again. She cries out, she threatens, she begs and pleads, she sobs, but nothing slows me down. I paddle her soundly for about five full minutes. “Her butt must be toast by now,” I think. I stand her up again. “Take off your clothes.” This time she obeys.
Down come those sleek blue jeans exposing a perfect body with curves in all the right places. Her panties are a light blue, very feminine, very pretty. She turns away from me and after a moments hesitation, pulls them down. Her ass is awesome. Two gleaming globes of pure silk smoothness and honey sweetness. I long to touch them, caress her buttocks, but I do not. Her bottom is quite red, but I can now see that I have missed a few spots.
In seconds she is back over my knee, crying as I paddle her some more. I am not gentle with her. I spank her hard and long and she cries all the time. When her whole bottom is scarlet and extremely tender I stop. I sit on the chair and pull her across my lap. I begin to spank her naked bottom with my bare hand. It’s hard work and I am tired but she squeals and struggles frantically, begging me to stop.
She says she’ll do anything. She’ll go out with me, she’ll suck me, she sleep with me even. Just stop spanking her! I ignore her and continue slapping her rump. It is a beautiful ass, so round and firm. I pause occasionally and press my palm against the smooth flesh to feel the searing heat. She is so sore now that even my gentlest pats hurt her.
“Have you learned you lesson?” I ask. She sobs and nods her head. “I can’t hear you,” I say. She says, “Yes, I’ve learned my lesson. Please, no more! Let me go and I’ll do whatever you want!”
“What if I want to spank you?” I say. She is suddenly silent. “Please,” she says finally. “Not too hard. A little is okay, and with your hand, but no more with that paddle!”
“You have learned to be polite?” I ask.
“Yes!” she says breathlessly. “Please, I am sorry I laughed at you. It was rude and inexcusable. But I am punished now. Please let me go.”
I stand her up and look at her. She is very pretty amid her tears. Her hair is disheveled and wild, her eyes bloodshot, her lips trembling. She is very frightened but she tries to smile at me. She seems quite sincere.
“Show me your body,” I say, and she obeys instantly, spreading her arms so I can see her breasts and her pussy. She is completely mine. I have her turn and bend over, stretch upwards, or let me fondle her breasts.
There is nothing I cannot to do her.
“How will you treat me after this?” I say. “I will be nice to you!” she says. “I will tell everyone how nice you are and that we are friends. I will even tell them I was wrong to laugh at you.”
“Good,” I say, picking up the paddle. “Bend over the desk. I think we are almost done here.” Nikki moans and pleads with me but I am resolute.
She stretches across the desk and grasps the other side with her fingers. I step back and holding the paddle with both hands begin to smack it across her upthrust rump with thunderous force. She screams and begs me to stop but I give her a full dozen. Her bottom is very hot and toasty when I finish.
She is eager for me afterwards, unzipping my pants herself. She practically pulls me onto her, and we make passionate love. When we are finished we both dress and I knock on the door three times. After a moment Mr. Irving comes and lets us out.
“Did she get what she deserved?” he asks.
“Absolutely,” I say, with a slight wink in Nikki’s direction. She blushes and looks at the floor. As we leave she comes to me.
“That was incredible,” she whispers.
“I told you I was a good lover,” I said.
“No, not that part. Well, it was okay,” she says. “but I was talking about the spanking. It was wonderful! Can we do it again?”
My jaw drops. It was an insult mixed with a challenge. I love challenges. So how can I refuse? If I have my way we shall do this every weekend.
Coleen is a writer, photographer and film maker at Wasteland and Sssh.com.
Here at BDSMCafe.com, she is editor and curator of this comprehensive library of BDSM fiction, informational articles and other educational features that date back to the early days of the internet in 1996 when the site was first launched.
