Denise came to visit in 2005. We had never met in person before but I knew everything about her. We met on line years earlier on a message board dedicated to adult spanking. We exchanged e-mails and talked for hours on instant messenger. It was an innocent flirtation. We were both married, she was in Florida, I lived in New York. We didn’t think we would ever meet.
She was a shameless flirt. She said she loved to be spanked and she wanted me to describe what it would be like if we met. Would I be strict with her? Would I put her over my knee like a child? She could just imagine the shame and embarrassment of being treated like a naughty girl. Her husband wasn’t that interested in indulging her fantasies, she said, although he would deliver a few half hearted slaps to her bare bottom during lovemaking. I told her I would spank her every day.
“EVERY DAY!!?? she’d type.
I promised her an especially hard spanking for using that kind of punctuation. I would be strict. She would be obedient.
“Would you fuck me?”
“Yes, of course.”
Over time she revealed everything to me. She spanked herself with a hairbrush almost every day. (blush) She liked anal play and sometimes used a butt plug. (blush) She would always tell me when she or I said something that made her blush. I made her tell me all her deepest and darkest fantasies, even the ones that shamed her. And I promised her someday we’d make them all come true.
“tell me more,” she would type, “what would you do.”
“I’d have some Vaseline and a rectal thermometer to take your temperature, over my knee, as if you were a baby.”
(BLUSH) “you wouldn’t!”
Maybe a good spanking first to inspire obedience and they when your behind was nice and red, I’d spread your cheeks to lubricate your rectum with a nice big dollop of vaseline. I’d press my finger deep, up inside your ass.
Then the thermometer. You’d have to just lie there for a while.
‘And if I squirmed around on your lap, you’d be very angry with me right? I might earn an even harder spanking with the hairbrush. Hard enough to make me cry. And then you’d march me over to stand in the corner. I’d be so ashamed.”
Eventually we talked on the phone and exchanged photos. She was very pretty, tall with long, dark hair that fell around her shoulders. She wore a short black dress and high heels and she looked very sophisticated. She said she was twenty nine but she was actually 34. I said I was 31 but she would find out much later that I was 27.
“tell me more,” she would type. “If I disobeyed you, would you use a strap….or a cane? (gulp)
She had watched spanking and caning videos and was fascinated by the cane. She read stories about the sting and the burn and the raised welts. She wanted a witness, someday, someone to watch me spank her to add to her embarrassment. She wanted an enema. (blush)
“I want you to diaper me.” (blush) “OMG, I didn’t just say that.”
She was a beautiful, sophisticated, successful business woman, 34 going on 12 and she wanted to be spanked by a big strong man. She wanted someone with a “firm hand” who wouldn’t put up with her nonsense. Someone loving and affectionate and strict; a father figure but also someone who would fuck her every day.
“Every day!”
“Ha, ha. Yes, every day and twice on Sundays.”
She wanted anal sex. “I want you to spank me and then fuck my ass good and hard.” (blush)
She tried it once with her husband but he didn’t like it and he wasn’t very hard. It didn’t matter she said because they were getting divorced.
And so, after almost two years, we would meet. She had booked a room at the W hotel and I would pick her up at JFK.
Part 2
She was more than I expected; more in every way. She was taller than I expected, prettier, her hair was lighter brown and longer than in her photos. She was elegant in her LUCKY jeans and PRADA top. Louis Vuitton luggage. Affluent, sophisticated, certainly not just a pretty girl.
I remember an on-line conversation we had once, before we exchanged photos, about movie stars and what movie stars we resemble. I said Steve McQueen (I don’t), she said she’s been told she looks like a young Carole Bouquet, a famous French actress. I never heard of her but I looked her up on line and even watched a few of her movies. I could see it now, the young Carole Bouquet in “Cet obscur object du desire” …. “That obscure object of Desire.” How appropriate.
She liked the way I looked too, thank goodness. “Nicky, you’re so tall! You look just like your photos!” We kissed, one on each cheek, very European. I had a limo waiting, I know it’s cheesy but it gave us a chance to relax and talk and I wanted to set some rules.
New York is a great city, I said, but some parts are dangerous so don’t go out wandering around on your own. Consider me your guardian while you’re here and I’ll protect you. She laughed. We had had the same conversation on line many times.
“Yes Daddy.”
I settled her in her hotel suite and she threw her arms around my neck. “I have some rules too,” she warned. “I want lot’s of kisses. I expect to be treated with respect. I want to be charmed and seduced; swept off my feet. I want to be fed. And I want you to pay attention to just me. Do you understand?
I did. She was hungry.
“But before we go to lunch, how about a little spanking. Just to warm you up a bit. We’ve waited so long.”
I sat on the bed. She peeled down her tight jeans revealing her expensive, black lace underwear. A slight blush covered her cheeks as she smiled and lowered herself across my lap. I rested my hand on her behind and gave her a little squeeze. She arched the small of her back and tilted up her ass, offering it to me the way she promised in all those on line chats. The spanks echoed like gun shots. “Don’t tighten your cheeks,” I ordered, “keep them relaxed and soft. It’s very submissive for you to just willingly accept the sting of a spanking, isn’t it, to just raise up your bottom and offer it to me, isn’t it? I delivered a few more loud, stinging spanks to make my point and she just moaned softly without complaint
She was a joy to spank. She was so excited by it all. When I ran my hand up her thigh she spread her legs willingly. Her panties were soaked. She had come at least once from the spanking and now she clamped her thighs together on my hand and came again. “Stand up,” I ordered, “your panties are all wet. Take them off and hand them to me.”
“Please Nicky…..”
She was blushing now. I knew she loved to be scolded. I knew from all our on line chats how embarrassing it was for her when she got so wet and excited. Of course I loved it.
“Right now, young lady. Take them off and get back over my knee.” Slowly she pulled down her panties. She was completely shaved just like she said. “Hand them to me,” I ordered. “What a naughty girl you are. I should keep you in diapers.” A low groan escaped her throat and she turned bright red.
Back over my knee; her bare bottom was absolutely perfect; firm, round and soft. Yes, I know, how could it be firm and still soft. I don’t know it just was. It bounced provocatively with each slap. After 10 or 12 I gave her a little rest and caressed her again, rubbing softly. I pulled apart her cheeks.
“Are you examining me?”
“Yes. Never know what I might find.”
I rubbed her bare pussy for the first time. It was as slippery and sweet as a slice of ripe melon. I licked the juices off my fingers and went back for more. It was as if my fingers were sucked right inside her. I could feel her pulsing against my hand and squeezing hard as she came again.
“You’re going to break my fingers.”
Slowly she relaxed her grip and gave me back my hand. She got up and gave me a long, lingering kiss. My mouth was covered with her juices but she didn’t seem to mind.
Get undressed, I ordered. I want to see you naked. She obeyed immediately and got down on her knees. She unzipped my pants.
“Oh Nicky,” she said, “It’s so big.” What a sweet talker. She made quick work of it. I guess I was as excited as she was. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said. “And I’ll let you take me to lunch.”
Published
part 3
It was as if we were old lovers. I knew everything that excited her. In our long, anonymous, on-line conversations she had revealed all her desires, all her secret fantasies, special words and phrases that turned her on, things she wouldn’t dare tell anyone, not even her husband. Such is the power of the internet.
I found it all charming and I told her so. No matter how she tried to shock me, she could not. I found it all fun. She was so embarrassed sometimes but I always reassured her. She was a sweet intelligent woman. She just wanted to be naughty sometimes. Over lunch we reviewed our favorite scenarios and some of the role playing we did on line.
“This is a beautiful restaurant,” she’d say, “you wouldn’t dare spank me here….in public. You’d be arrested.”
“Eat your vegetables.”
“I’m not a child, Nicky. I can eat what I like.”
“I brought a cane. It’s in a bag in the truck of the car. It might be a good idea to give you a little taste of it. It will change the way you look at things.”
“An attitude adjustment?”
“Exactly.”
“Do you think I’ll be better behaved when I have a few welts across my bottom?”
“We’ll see, won’t we.”
Back in her room, I showed her all my toys. “this is a nursery cane,” I explained. “It’s very light. it’s perfect for naughty little girls.” I had condoms and KY-Jelly. A very whippy riding crop. A nice little paddle called a nanny paddle….like a hairbrush without bristles. “A nanny would use it to spank you if you misbehave,” I explained unnecessarily.
“Have you ever thought about having a nanny or a governess?” I asked. “You have a very child-like view of the world. Wouldn’t it be perfect to have a strict governess to take you in hand and supervise your behavior?” I could imagine watching her pull down your panties and putting you over her knee. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. She could take your temperature, give you a bath.”
“I’d rather have you give me a bath.”
“And spank you?”
“yes’
And take your temperature?
‘yes” (blush)
Unfortunately Denise had ignored all my instructions and brought nothing.
“Rectal thermometer?”
“No.”
“Vaseline?”
“I forgot.”
“Vibrator? Butt Plug?”
“Nicky! What if they opened my bags? Use your head. I couldn’t.”
“Hairbrush?”
“gulp”
“Get it out. Right now.”
She could be very seductive. She walked over to me and pressed her thigh between my legs. “You’re hard aren’t you? I can see it. All this talk is exciting you isn’t it?” Her lips were so soft on mine.
“I’ll give you a choice,” she said, seriously. “I’m a little nervous about the cane but I’m excited too. You can cane me now if you want to. Not too hard. Just a taste, like you said.
Three or four whacks. Or, if you can wait and delay your gratification, I’ll give you a taste. I’ll let you lick me. My pussy is very, very wet. It’s dripping. I’ll sit on your face and you can put your tongue inside me. Your choice. You decide.
We got undressed. She positioned herself above me and lowered herself onto my face.
“Come on big boy,” she said as she grabbed my cock, “lick it, make me come.”
She was very responsive. She was lubricating freely as I licked away and my face was covered with her juices. I nibbled at the little nub of her clit and little rivulets of clear liquid poured from her cunt and onto my tongue. I could tell when she started to come, Her whole body trembled and she pressed her pussy down onto my nose and mouth. I could barely breathe. Her juices ran into my nose and mouth and I thought I was going to drown. I pushed her up but she pushed back down hard against me as she rocked through her orgasm. I never saw a girl come like that. My face was wet, her ass was wet and she was just getting started.
“Fuck me,” she ordered. “I can’t wait any longer.” She got on her hands and knees and lowered her head to the pillow. It was such an inviting target. I jumped right in. And she was slippery and tight. We pounded away for a few minutes, I slapped her ass and she was ready for the cane.
“Get it,” she ordered, “Get it now.”
For all the uninitiated out there, this is not something you should try at home.
She had a lush ass, plump and round. In the corner of the room was a low club chair. Perfect height. I bent her over the back. Her arms rested on the seat. “Get that ass up in the air,” I ordered. She went up on her toes and tried to lift it up. The first stoke whistled through the air and bit deeply into her succulent cheeks at the lowest part of her buttocks. She gasped for air as the first red welt blossomed across her ass. The second stroke landed an inch higher and made her raise her head and curse.
“FUCK!”
The next cut an inch lower than the first, landing right at the top of her firm thighs and she shot up and grasped at the burning weal, twisting to see if her ass was still in one piece. “FUCK!” she cursed again. “That stings!”
To her credit she bent over for one more. I had baby wipes, wet with witch hazel that I rubbed gently across her behind. Each red welt cooled at the touch of the astringent and then bloomed again and throbbed. I ordered her to spread her legs so I could wipe her properly.
In our on-line conversations I would say how I would use baby wipes to clean her behind as if she were a baby. How I would diaper her. It was her most shameful fantasy. The one she couldn’t tell anyone.
“I would just die if you did that to me,” she had said many times.
Unfortunately she forgot to bring the diapers.
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