Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 14

And because that would be a very hard thing for her to say, and because she was so sexy and so adorable at that moment, I held her tight, for warmth – suddenly it seemed very chilly in that kitchen – and reassurance. Raylene pressed against me and took her hands from her head to hold me. It crossed my mind that I hadn’t given her permission to move her hands. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

We stayed holding each other, Raylene near naked against my clothes, bare breasts resting on my shirt. I stroked her back, enjoying the lines and planes and curves. She sighed a long, long sigh, and relaxed against me. I kissed her ear, then pulled her head back, my hand in her hair, so she could see my face. I was grinning, happy to be with her, and I wanted her to see. She looked at me puzzled, then laughed a little and grinned back. She stroked the back of my head. That make things easier, though we had sacrificed some tension.

handprintsBut I moved my hands down to hold her buttocks, enjoying rounded resilience. I smacked her right cheek, the fleshiest roundest part, my hand landing open-palmed and hard. Harder than affectionate.

“Yi!” Raylene twisted away for a second. Then she remembered that she’d agreed to be obedient, and came back. I raised my hand again, letting her know I was going to smack her again.

I brought my hand down, just as hard, on the same place. This time she breathed hard, but kept herself still.

“That’s better.” I touched my hand to Raylene’s face, letting her feel the hand that had hurt her. “Good girl.”

Raylene kissed the palm of my hand. I said, “wooden spoon. Ruler. Paddle. Something. Now!”

We’ll stop here. We’re still in the damn kitchen, amazingly. But things are on the move.

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