Reading Time: 3minutes Before I could really get down to giving her a good old-fashioned spanking, I needed to do something about the position Samantha was in. You see, I'm naturally left-handed but inexperience had left me trying to spank her with less than full force using my right hand.
But first, before I could really get down to giving her a good old-fashioned spanking, I needed to do something about the position Samantha was in. You see, I’m naturally left-handed but inexperience had left me trying to spank her with less than full force using my right hand. Maybe shifting her around to a better position for punishment would provoke another battle but I had to try so I grabbed a thick handful of her long, blonde hair and quickly pulled her up and over my lap the other way. I think she was so surprised that she didn’t have time to struggle, or perhaps she knew by then that it would be a waste of time.
Up to this point everything had moved so fast I hadn’t felt in control, but now it was different. I took my time settling Samantha more comfortably over my lap. The struggling and spanking so far had pulled the top of the little pvc thing she was wearing right down around her waist like a tight shiny belt. I could feel the muscles of her stomach tensing and relaxing against my thigh as she shifted, and the warm heavy weight of her breasts. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I rested the palm of my hand on her soft bare ass, letting it linger there, feeling the heat radiating from the reddened flesh. It was going to be a whole lot redder before I was through !
As my fingers traced the sweet curve of her bottom, I told her that she was a bad girl who needed to be taught a lesson she would never forget. She muttered something then but, through the tangle of her hair, I didn’t quite catch what it was. Maybe she said “go on then” or maybe it was something else. I started spanking her again, a lot harder now, quickly settling into a rhythm of alternate slaps on each quivering cheek. She struggled a little bit, not trying to get up or escape really but wriggling her hips in a futile attempt to avoid the stinging slaps cascading down on her sore bottom.
Samantha was crying now as she writhed under the palm of my hand. What she was feeling at this moment, other than pain and humiliation, I don’t know. What I do know is that I had never felt anything quite like this before. My anger was long gone, washed away by her tears, and in its place was a feeling of raw power that I had never known before. For as long as the spanking lasted I had absolute power and control over this beautiful, half-naked girl who lay wriggling over my lap. There was another thing too. I’m only human, so how could I feel the heat and scent of her body, the way her breasts rubbed against my thigh, the soft weight of her pressing on my lap, and not be aroused. I hoped she couldn’t feel what she was doing to me.
Her bottom was crimson by now and I knew I should stop soon, but I didn’t want that spanking to ever end. Poor Samantha did though. By now she had stopped struggling and just lay limply across my lap, sobbing loudly. Feeling sorry for her I started to spank more gently, pausing often to spend long, delicious moments squeezing and stroking her burning buttocks. I rubbed the sore, spanked flesh gently with the palm of my hand in between smacks. For just an instant my hand strayed down between her thighs, fingertips touching the thin strip of shiny pvc that barely covered her there. She didn’t struggle at all, but her body stiffened slightly until I went back to gently rubbing her ass again.
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.
