One swallow doesn’t make a spring #29

chookShe said, “Why?”

She spoke in the whiny tone sometimes adopted by submissives who think they’ve gone unspanked for too long. At least that was my first reaction. Of course, her speech was affected by the wish neither to swallow nor dribble. She was speaking with her mouth full, and she’d been told not to do that by authorities higher than mine. Her mom, for starters.

So I didn’t repeat the command, or threaten the pallor of her bottom. Actually, it was a good question. 

I opened my mouth. I shut it again, and thought.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #28

So I focussed on Svitlana and her mouth. She was trying hard, sucking strongly and keeping me deep, and careful to keep her teeth out of the way. And she pressed her cunt on my left knee, like a soft wet fruit, and rode me for her own pleasure. I began to move my knee to stay with her, keeping the ball of the knee pressed against her pubic bone, the way she’d said her women lovers did.

redWhen I had her rhythm right Svitlana closed her eyes, and sped up slightly. She used her hand to keep me held, because she couldn’t take me as deep in her mouth as she’d started. If she moved deeper into submission with me, I’d growl a command – “keep my cock deep, girl” – and smack her face to make it memorable, but for now I was content.

Since she had her eyes closed, I sat up a little and watched her. I loved the crease where her white thigh met her hips, and its movements when her bottom arched up a little before she pressed down on my knee again.

She was going to come within a minute or two, so I grabbed her hair and held her harder than before, fucking her mouth and throat, not over-fast but hard, letting her breathe when I pulled back, but not concerned about her when I thrust forward, and making the noise that I currently can’t help making – like the village idiot being tickled – when I’m about to come. Until, growling and laughing with pleasure, I came in her.

Svitlana kept sucking while her mouth filled. She coughed once when some of my come must have reached her oesophagous, but I held her firmly until I’d finished.

creaseShe lost her focus on me a second or two later, working herself on my knee, now slippery with her own excitement, until she cried out and flopped on my knee like a caught fish.

I held and stroked my hands on her shoulders, saying “good girl, good girl, Svitlana.”

She was only partly a submissive, and she certainly wasn’t mine, but I hoped she liked being told that she was good. Anyway, I wasn’t thinking much, and I was simply saying what I felt. She was good.

Some time later, Svitlana looked up. She still held my come in her mouth. She said, “tissue, I need to spit. Tissue?”

I said without thinking what I’d still have said if I’d thought it through. She was mine enough just then. I felt slightly, absurdly, indignant that she’d even asked. So I used the command voice, with the unmistakeable hint of ‘or else’. “No. Absolutely not. You swallow.  All of it. Right now.” 

Svitlana closed her eyes again.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #27

I was thinking about some of those issues, while Svitlana sucked and petted my cock. I realised that worrying about the politics of all the actions that had led to her sucking my cock was insulting. She deserved my full attention and I was being a fool to give anything less. I stopped thinking foolishly. And stopped thinking at all.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #26

Consent is odd. 

On the one hand, I had taken Svitlana through bdsm consent 101, and explained about safe words and stopping whenever she felt uncomfortable. She’d agreed, and told me that she knew about safe words.

That should have meant that anything that I did was okay if she didn’t safeword. But it never really means that. Especially with someone who had found herself confronting submission, and bdsm’s rules and ethics, for the first time. She was excited and enjoying herself, but not really sure of her ground. She wasn’t sure what she could refuse. 

She hadn’t liked her spanking all that much. She wasn’t angry with me for spanking her. It was just something we’d tried, and we found that it hadn’t done much for her.

nipIt wasn’t that she didn’t like being hurt. When I’d squeezed her nipples, she’d wanted more, until I pressed as hard as I could and turned them like taps. That had worked ecstatically well, but it had to have hurt more than the fairly careful spanking I’d given her. Some things work, and some things just don’t. 

But I’d used the fact that she hadn’t liked being spanked to shorten the discussion about whether she was going to suck my cock. She’d rewarded me thoroughly for that piece of bad behaviour.  

If I’d thought that she’d take the threat to spank her seriously, then I’d have been a bully, not a dom. I didn’t feel that her consent covered me to do things she didn’t enjoy, once I’d been shown or told that she didn’t like them. 

That applied only because she was new to these things. Of course it’s different between doms and more experienced submissives. If I can find something that an experienced submissive doesn’t like, I’ll use it. It lets her feel she’s not in control. If everything is too good, the submissive can start to think the dom is serving her. She doesn’t want that.

But in Svitlana’s case, I could threaten to spank her not because of her consent but because we’d laughed a lot, including at me. She could enjoy the threat, and the sense that she was sucking me because she’d be punished if she didn’t, while at the same time she knew that the punishment was a phantom: it would never exist. 

You can’t reduce consent to a few rules. It’s still complicated even after formal consent is given. It’s a dance of advances and retreats. 

Back to the story  tomorrow.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #25

So she said, “There are dykes who’ll do you. They’ll bring you off with their hands, they’ll lick you till you come. Or they might put their knee, yeah, there. And kind of pulse you while they squeeze your, uh, breasts.”

“And that knee thing would get you off, would it?”

“Um… It has done. No, stop it! I’m trying to tell you something. Anyway, they’re stone cold dykes because they don’t let you touch them. They get your clothes off and they get you off, but they keep their clothes on and you don’t do anything to them, and they don’t come. Not with you, I mean me.”

“Well, that’s not me. Here. I’ve got my clothes off, I don’t know if you noticed…”

“Yeah, but -”

“And I haven’t got any come left …”

“Yeah, but -”

“It’s all in you.”

Stone cold

Stone cold

“Idiot. Silly man. Oh. Ah-huh. There might be a bit more, you know.” I leaned back and let her stroke her handful of soft cock. She was right. It wasn’t completely soft any more. “Okay, but you came in me because you fucked me. That’s physiology. But I didn’t get to fuck you; you never let me. You controlled me – that was interesting, by the way; that was good. I loved it. But I never controlled you. I lost it completely, I don’t think I knew the bed was here, I don’t think I even knew who I was. But you didn’t lose it at all, ever. You were completely in control of yourself. You stayed cold. You see?”

“Well, maybe. but I like being in charge. That’s sexy, for me. So of course I was getting off.” 

“Yes. Up to a point.” My cock stirred, and staggered upright, just able to lift its own weight, as she said that. So she gave her attention to stroking it, and repeated, “up to a point”, over and over. I relaxed and let her, but eventually, half hard, I took her hand and stopped her.

She smiled, as if she’d won her point. “See what I mean? You have to stay in control. It’s okay. It’s just … I can’t see how you can have as good a time as I’m having.”

“Like this. Suck my cock.”

“Just like that? That’s not a very romantic thing to say.”

“Suck my cock right now, or I’ll spank you till your arse is the colour of a stop sign.”

“I didn’t really like it, much, when you spanked me.”

penis“Then if you don’t want another spanking, you’d better…” And her mouth, warm and moist and sweetly soft, enveloped my cock. “Ahhh.” I wouldn’t have spanked her, since she hadn’t given me permission to do things she didn’t like. But I did know that she liked to be ordered to do things.

So I made myself comfortable, pushing a little deeper and resting one hand on the back of her head, exactly because a gentleman doesn’t do that. Because I guessed she’d like me not to be a gentleman. I thought, as her head bobbed steadily, that I’d won something, though not necessarily the argument. 

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #24

As I’ve mentioned, Svitlana turned out not to like being spanked all that much, though she gave it a fair trial. But she liked other things. She liked having her nipples ill-treated. At first I did the nipple mistreatment with my fingers.

lickBut later, I had her hands tied to the end of the bed, and her ankles held apart by a spreader bar, and I attached a pair of nipple clamps to her breasts, because I needed my hands to hold under her bottom while I lifted and licked her. 

I’m not going to write about most of that night, because it was just sex. We said very little during it. I don’t think that we thought much, either. I know I didn’t. So there’s not so much to say about it, except that it was good. It was a gold and silver night, honey and lightning. 

So we were tired when we collapsed, some time that was more like morning than it was night.

We lay together comfortably, satisfied with each other. And Svitlana mused, “You’re like a stone cold lesbian.”

And I said, “I have no idea what that means, but I bet I’m not.”

So we’re back to the beginning, the point where I started this story. It does continue. 

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #23

Svitlana came, seconds after I’d given that command. Eventually  she stirred and looked up, and found me looking at her. I couldn’t stop myself looking at her. She reached up and stroked my arm. “”I came because you told me to. You told me to come and I did as I was told.” She shook her head. “Fuck, that’s weird. That is really weird,  Jaime.”

Actually it wasn’t strange at all. By the time I’d told her to come she was going to come. She’d have had real trouble disobeying that order. But I said, “You’re just naturally obedient. You like to do as you’re told. You didn’t know that. And now you do.”

“Hmmm.” She sounded sceptical. Sensible woman.

“Yes, you are. You’re going to obey me when I tell you to get over my knee. Because I’m going to spank you.”

spank“You think I’ve been bad? And you seriously think I’m going to let you punish me, if you think I’m bad?”

Of course, she’d held still while I smacked her inner thigh, and I’d claimed that was a punishment. But that was an orgasm ago, so perhaps it didn’t count. She didn’t think of herself as someone who let people punish her.

So I said, truthfully, “No, I just think you’ve got a glorious ass.”

“Huh.” She scowled at me, then smiled. “Well, in that case, I suppose. I’ll let you smack my glorious ass. Since it’s glorious. If you’ll give me a knee to get over.”

She slid over me, and I worked my way across the bed, pulling her with me, so I could rest my back against the wall. And Svitlana perched, bottom up on my thighs.

I patted her upper thighs. “Yeah, glorious. Best ass ever. And now I want it warm and pink. Or maybe red.” 

“Hey! What do you mean, red?” 

I smacked her.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #22

Reader, I looked Svitlana in her eyes, and held that gaze while I brought my hand down, hard, on her inner thigh. She kept herself still, and though she gasped when my hand landed, and frowned and sucked at her lower lip, she did not move. 

We watched each other’s faces while she experienced the sharp impact and then the after-warmth of having been deliberately smacked, and I enjoyed the memory of the cool firmness of her left thigh as my hand had landed. I held that memory in my hand. 

She still stared at me, a little afraid, not of the potential pain of anything I might do, but of the strangeness of her own response to being out of her own control and under mine. I smiled at last, and Svitlana gasped again, relieved. I said, “good girl.” 

She still had her thighs open as wide as she could present herself, and I touched her cunt, at the lowest edge of her lips, and stroked upwards. She was wet. My fingers swam in aroused Svitlana. She shivered slightly, wanting more, and I stroked her again.

Svitlana let her head fall back onto the pillow, and gave up her body to my stroking fingers, . After a while, she put her heels back on the bed and lifted herself, making her cunt and her other entrance available to me. In response I sped up a little, and Svitlana’s face took on that tenseness that said she was about to come. I let my finger slip all the way into her, and said, “nearly”. 

cuntSvitlana only moaned. She’d closed her eyes. She was only a second away. 

With my other hand I smacked her right thigh. Not lightly; the sound was like a starter’s pistol, and her thigh rippled under the blow. I could see my hand[print, white against white. In seconds it would be a bright, clear red. Svitlana made a high-pitched noise, like a howl. There was a word in that howl. It was, “Harder!” 

I smacked her left thigh again, as hard as I could, then put the hand that had slapped her against her mouth. “Now,” I said, “come.”  


One swallow doesn’t make a spring #21

Svitlana thought for a moment or two. I’d just told her I was going to punish her for disobedience. She wouldn’t have had any qualm, if I’d simply smacked her thigh. But announcing it in advance, and specifying that it was punishment, that it was for disobedience, that made it hard to take. 

This was not going to be a night she could discuss with Mayne and Barbs, the dyke couple who were looking after her, let alone with Kerry, the angrier dyke who’d told her I was a bad man who spanked women. Kerry had done me a favour, though that was another thing that would never be said. Not to Kerry, anyway.

It's the waiting that makes it hot.

It’s the waiting that makes it hot.

She said, with utmost wariness, “Okay. If I were going to let you punish me for closing my thighs, what would you do?”

I smiled. “No. Ask me how I’m going to punish you.”

“Punish me for what?”

“Ask me, nicely, to punish you for closing your thighs when I told you to open them.”

“You keep shifting the ground!” 

“Yes. So you should ask me, very sweetly, to smack your inner thighs, to punish you for closing your thighs when I told you to open them.” 

We looked at each other. I was grinning like a fox. We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, and Svitlana burst out laughing. When she recovered she said, “All right. Would you please, pretty please, smack me on my inner thigh – is that right?” 

“Just do as you’re told.” That was a growl.

“On my inner thighs, to punish me for closing my thighs when you told me to open them.”

I kissed her, and we held that for some time, my hand caressing her scalp through a handful of her hair. Eventually she broke away for breath, and I said, “Since you asked so nicely.”


“Left thigh. Bend your knees, and keep your thighs right open, so I can smack you. And don’t move, or I’ll have to give you double. You know that.”

“Yes.” Svitlana obeyed, lifting and spreading her legs to offer me a delicious white, rounded target. I wanted to kiss her cunt, now most prettily framed, and fuck her. But first there was business.

spank handI raised my hand, hovered over the target, three inches below her cunt.

Svitlana drew in her breath. Her stomach muscles tightened. She looked away, and then, drawn by awful curiosity, gazed back into my eyes. I let her wait.  


One swallow doesn’t make a spring #20

holdMy cock, not quite comfortable, rested hard against her left thigh. She reached down and held it, cradling it and cooing, like a girl with a pet bird. Like Lesbia and her sparrow, I thought at the time, wanker that I am. She said, “Oooh, that was so good. That was … You are going to fuck me again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you’ll probably get fucked again.”

Svitlana nodded. “I should think so.”

“Mmm. But first, you remember? Remember when I told you to get your thighs gynecologically open…”

open“Ohhh.” She remembered. She’d disobeyed me. It had worried her for a second or two, then she’d decided that I’d forgotten.

“And you closed your legs a little, instead. You knew you were disobeying me. You thought I was going to punish you for that.”

“Ohhhh.” She was trying to sound amused. I think she was a little afraid. Not terrified, but nervous. 

“Well, you were right.”