In a hotel room in Rotorua, New Zealand. Things are going nicely. Zöe, as always, looks unbelievably elegant.
There’s more and better to come, of course, but the moment is still beautiful. And sweet.
Roland put his hand on Teresa’s back. His cock pressed against her right thigh. He was very hard. Most of his mind had turned off, too, she expected.
He said, “Of course this is going to hurt. If it didn’t it wouldn’t be real, and it wouldn’t be sexy. So I mean to hurt you, Teresa O’Sullivan. Hurt you personally and particularly and deliberately. If I went lighter it’d just be mildly painful and feel kind of annoying. But if I go harder, your body responds to it. You won’t feel it as pain at all. Ok?”
He let her see his hand, suspended until she replied. She frowned. “That… might be right.”
He held eye contact with her while his hand landed again across her arse, which was – if his phone camera hadn’t lied – already a blazing red. She could feel its heat. He leant down and kissed her ear.
He whispered, “So don’t you bother complaining that it hurts. Unless you want to turn me on.”
“Mmm. You’re such a cruel boy.”
“I don’t need to hear from you again, Teresa, until you thank me for your spanking when I’m finished.”
Teresa nodded, bowing her head. The explanation of why a hard spanking hurts less than a mild one was, she knew, Roland’s style. He liked a well informed submissive. But now he was being sexy billionaire Julian again, a man who never apologised and never explained. He pressed one hand just below the nape of her neck, holding her down across his desk while he resumed her spanking.
For a long time the room echoed with the sharp sound of Roland’s hard hand on Teresa’s soft, rounded, flesh and her laboured breathing and her occasional mews, which might have been little cries of pain, or pleasure, or both.
At about what she judged – she wasn’t counting – was the ninetieth or possibly hundredth spank he stopped.Teresae said nothing. She’d found herself, at last, in a strange, floating world of her own, an erotic world in which there was only a continuous heat and knowledge of her own acceptance of that.
It seemed an far away and unimportant fact, that he’d stopped spanking her.
She was aware of events – he pulled out the top drawer of the desk and took out a bottle of lubricant, pouring the gel liberally onto his forefinger and index finger – but she hardly thought of them as having importance to her. Until he pressed against her anal ring, and after a pause and a little more pressure she opened and admitted his fingers. She was still floating after her spanking, and very relaxed.
It felt pleasant and oddly comforting, though in a sense it was far away, barely connected to her. There was nothing Roland could do, just then, that she wouldn’t accept. She had abandoned herself to trust in him. He let the two fingers enter to the second knuckle, spreading the lube inside until she was slick and his fingers moved easily. Then he removed them, coated them again, and re-entered her.
This time Teresa’s eyes opened, and she made a languorous sound. “You’re going to fuck my arse. And give me your come. I, uh, endorse this plan. Oh! And thank-you-for-my-spanking, sir…”
Something clicked in Teresa’s mind as she bent over her desk. She opened her eyes and mouth. In the book beside her bed, Tessa’s Duties, by Cerise Nates, the dominant billionaire Julian had called virginal secretary Tessa ‘little minx’, just like Roland had called her now. And that phrase, ‘Stretch your arms out sideways, and don’t move them’: that was word for word from her favourite passage.
“I haven’t read Tessa’s Task.” She suspected that’d be true, though misleading. He’d only had have time to read a page and a half of it.
But it was her favourite page and a half. She guessed that Roland wanted her to have the experience of something she’d thought of, magically coming true. So she was generous to him, and didn’t call him on it. He smacked her again, harder. “It’s time you had a proper spanking, girl.”
“I’ve already had one! You just spanked me, remember?” It was odd having this defiant conversation with her nipples and nose obediently pressed against the wooden desktop. “And that was on the most tenuous excuse I’ve ever heard.”
But he followed that nonsense by putting his hands back on her bottom, and dug his thumbs into the balled muscles, reaching and pressing into tension spots.
Teresa said, “Oof”, then moaned softly. The nonsense he sometimes spoke was only nonsense, but his touch was real and it felt good.
After a couple of minutes of firm massage he stroked in the deep valley between her buttocks, very lightly touching her cunt. Teresa closed her eyes and moaned while he ran his fingertips along her lips, getting them wet. She was wetter. She asked, “Is this the proper spanking?” She tried, for comedy purposes, to make it sound as if she hoped so.
Roland only smacked her, hard, making that pistol-shot sound of palm on flesh. “This is a proper spanking.” He smacked her again, still hard, on the other side. “Now keep your arse up, Teresa. You look hot like that, and you know it. Also, you want to give me a perfect target.”
“Please don’t hurt me. Not … too much. Sir.” Her voice was little. Her voice sounded little to her, and she was surprising herself. Teresa didn’t know, just then, whether she was play-acting or if the spanks she’d already had, and the commands she’d already obeyed, with the promise of many more of both to come, had let her drift into a smaller, less powerful state of mind. There are pleasures in helplessness. Teresa decided to let go, turn off her mind and float, discovering and exploring downstream.
Philip laughed. He wasn’t mocking her, as she was mocking him. He was just happy. He pulled her a little higher in the bed, so her face was in kissing range of Chetana’s cunt. He shuffled with her, so he still had his thighs under, positioning her bottom up and posed. Chetana put her hand on the back of Jayavardhini’s head, then took her ears. “Come on, little one.”
Jayavardhini wriggled her arms out of Philip’s grip and brought them forward to slide under Chetana’s ass. She lowered her head and touched her tongue to Chetana’s cunt, just touching her lips. Then she took her tongue away, so that Chetana opened her mouth and let her head fall back, and then pressed forward, tongue touching her lover again.
Jayavardhini smiled when Chetana gasped, and Philip’s hand landed on her bottom, again. This was a good game: she was pleasing Chetana, her lover, and Philip, who she expected to call her lover soon. And in her apparent submission she was the centre of attention in that bed, and she held more than her share of the power.
Chetana sighed, pleasured, and Jayavardhini rewarded her, licking along the outside of her cunt, from bottom to top. Then she pressed her tongue a little harder, opening her lover and tasting her. She could taste Philip too, it seemed. She supposed she’d have to get used to thinking of Chetana as one of her lovers. Plural.
Philip had his hand on her ass, squeezing firmly where he’d smacked. He smacked her twice, left side then right, his hand hard. And good. She lost her rhythm with Chetana, but gained in passion. He set up his own rhythm now, spanking her slow and long, the impacts but not getting harder, nor faster. She was being taken on a ride.
Chetana, under her mouth, was wet and soft, a surrender of a different kind. She kissed Chetana’s cunt, wanting her to feel her love as well as her desire to please her, then licked her sweet, opened flesh, moving a little faster.
She felt Philip’s hand on her ass, hurting her in the knowledge that that she would turn any pain he gave her into sex. Chetana gasped again, under her tongue. Philip smacked Jayavardhini’s ass a little harder, and then again. She surrendered her body and part of her soul to him, letting him do what he wanted, trusting that she would love it whatever it might be.
Chetana leaned back, caressing Jayavardhini’s face with her thighs, as she worked. Philip increased the speed, though not the severity of her spanking. He must be watching the two of them; she could feel his erection pushing into her hip.
She knew that if she were not so aroused, his spanking would be hurting by now. He was spanking her smartly, the way he might if he ever intended to punish her, and she let him. But the blows brought her no pain. Only a long, continuous wave of lust.
Her fingers tightened on Chetana’s muscular buttocks, digging into her flesh, intending to hurt her. Chetana gasped in response, then stayed vocal, cooing her pleasure. She was going to come soon.
Jayavardhini focussed her tonguing on her lover’s clitoris, pulling her right hand from under Chetana’s ass to insert two fingers into her cunt. They entered easily; Chetana was so soft, so wet. Jayavardhini pushed those fingers upwards, and pressed and lapped her harder with her tongue.
Philip was landing his hand on her ass hard and fast now, and the rhythm was right for Jayavardhini to stay with it as she face-fucked Chetana. She increased the pressure on Chetana’s clitoris, and felt her tense suddenly. Chetana’s back arched, so Jayavardhini had to follow as her bottom lifted from the bed. Chetana screamed, her pleasure sounding like the darkest grief, as if she were being tortured.
Jayavardhini kissed her cunt and said, “Ooh, my love.”
But Philip’s hand landed again on her ass, much harder than before, and she yelped. The sound of his slap echoed in the cabin, and he growled, “Don’t you dare stop.” Jayavardhini returned to her task, tonguing Chetana, and slipped two fingers into her ass. Chetana screamed again, then her head fell back and her body slipped forward, relaxed. Jayavardhini kissed her navel, then the ribs between her breasts.
Chetana opened her eyes at last and stretched, then wrapped her legs round Jayavardhini and held her hair in her hands. “Thank you. Thank you, both of you. I love you. Both of you.”
This is episode X of what evolved and expanded to become that very erotic and engrossing ebook, Jennifer’s Pleats and Pleas 3: Trying to be a Good Girl.
In this episode, something incredibly steamy happens, but I’ll tell you what it is later. (Tech issues to fix first.)
It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.
My love Gretel has been in the wrong part of the world for too long. But soon she’ll be back where she belongs. I’m starting to anticipate her arrival. I’m starting to make plans. One of the first things that will happen to her is that I’m going to put her pver my knee, and give her a long and memorable spanking. Skin to bare skin.
Why is that such a priority, in my imagination, and – I’m certain – in actuality? What is this? Why do I like this so much?
There are visual pleasures to be had from spanking Gretel. The sight of her flesh rippling and firming under my hand as each smack lands. Her face frowning in concentration, a slight pursing of her mouth with each blow. I’ve watched these things with absorption, and been amazed by their, and her, beauty.
When I make the smacks harder I can watch the changes in her skin, the instant of pallor directly under my hand at the instant of contact, and study it as it blushes to pink as the blood rushes to the assaulted skin.
At first I can see individual prints, my palm, fingers and thumb marked on her like the painted hand on Paleolithic cave walls. But those marks soon merge into one large red blotch covering her buttocks and upper thighs.
As I continue, slowly building up the force of the smacks, she gives me movements to watch, the rocking of her hips and buttocks as she presses down against me and then offers herself up in answering rhythm to my hand. She tucks her hair behind her ears, but when she’s in spanked-girl motion on my knee it falls forward over her face.
There are tactile pleasures, the curved planes of her buttocks and thighs under my hand, soft when I touch her gently, firmly rebounding when I touch more fiercely. It feels so sensual. I love the impact of my palm against her muscles, and the reactions of her body in that second of impact.
Those sensations are all the more intense for only lasting for an instant. Gretel’s body pressed against mine, her hips slowly pumping, moving under my hand: I’m achingly aware of every silken micro-movement of her belly or her thighs.
There are sounds, too: the clap of skin against skin and her occasional answering grunts. And there are our own heady smells.
There’s another thing, though. There’s a strange, almost telepathic intimacy between us when I heat and mark her. I know that the sting in my hand is only a distant echo of the much fiercer pain in her bottom and thighs. I wouldn’t like that sensation myself, but I seem to have some sense of the way in which Gretel experiences it as pleasure. That means I can feel that pleasure along with her. I also know, just as surely as I know that I felt her pleasure, that she can feel some of my my pleasure in watching her, holding her, and spanking her incredible, beautiful ass and thighs.
So, girl. Come here. Assume the position.
This is episode 5 of Jennifer’s Pleats and Pleas 4: Holding Hands Across the Desk.
In this episode, Maddie partially undresses and holds out her hands for six of the best with the strap. She’d hoped to be spanked, bare-bottomed, over his knee, but the strapping moves her too. She kisses the headmaster, and they recognise that they are kindred souls. He tells her to come back at exactly 12.05, for a spanking.
“This is a-grade erotica in a traditional style and setting, but told by an author with an eye for the telling erotic detail. And character details. These are three-dimensional people. I loved it!” – V Sevigne, reviewer.
But I’ve had to cut the text, though. This is to be published and my publishers don’t want free competition from my site. I’ll shortly insert a link to where you can buy this fine and erotic book at your favourite e-book seller.
And sometimes a good girl gets what she needs.
The castle again. A couple of weeks ago I published an “aftermath” picture, showing my girl sleeping afterwards. But this was taken during the enwarmening process itself.
This is episode 9 of the series that became the ebook Jennifer’s Pleats and Pleas 2: The Chime of the Bellbird.
In this episode, Jennifer learns that she is the sort of person who gets spanked regularly and often, and that this is not such a bad sort of person to be. So long as she’s loved and cared for, that’s exactly who she wants to be.
I’ve had to remove the actual text, because this excellent and very sexy book has this has been published and is on sale at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, 24symbols, Angus and Robinson, tolino, Rakuten Kobo and Vivlio. A link that allows you to choose your favoured book supplier is here.
No, girl, don’t you even think about getting up.
There’s more? We’re not finished?
Girl, I’ve hardly started.
I want that ass nice and hot before I fuck you.
Exactly. Blazing red, little girl. Like a firetruck, only fuckable. Now: get up on tiptoes. Good girl. And keep still.
Even if it hurts?
Of course it’ll hurt. And you’ll stay in place until I put the paddle down. Just do as you’re told, and you’ll be fine.
Ummm, well..? Yes, sir.