This is a story I wrote some time ago about a girl who has a very special experience going to the cinema.
We stood in the hallway on our way out. There was no rush, we had plenty of time but I was dressed and he was dressed and we were ready to move. I looked in the mirror and tried to decide if I looked good in my outfit. I felt a bit strange trying to see myself with some other person's eyes.
I was dressed as he wanted me in a tight fitting short black dress. It had thin straps that left my shoulders exposed. The skirt was short, very short, and reached me only to half my thighs, at the most. I had no stockings and only thin flat shoes with no heels. I felt exposed in the dress and couldn't decide if the sensation of embarrassment was more powerful than the sense of being sensual and perhaps even sexy.
I wasn't used to showing off my body in this way and wouldn't have chosen such a dress for an ordinary visit to the cinema but my partner wanted it this way and I obliged. It didn't feel bad but I felt naked. The sense of being a little sexy made the experience not completely a bad one.
I looked at myself and I felt excited, although I was embarrassed by seeing the shape of my body under the fabric of the dress. I wore no bra and only the tiniest of knickers. That increased the sense of being naked.
'Before we leave there is one thing I have to do,' he said suddenly waking me from my thoughts.
I looked at him as he walked away from the hallway. He looked smart in black trousers and a white shirt, casual but well dressed. He was slim and well built and very handsome.
I waited in anticipation for him to come back. When I saw him, my heart took a leap. In his hand he held the big wooden paddle. It was long and made of smooth and hard wood. It was heavy and very powerful. I felt my legs tremble. He smiled.
'What, what is that for...?' I asked realising that I was blushing.
'Your cinema spanking,' he said beaming.
I had never heard that expression before but it was quite clear what he meant. I was trembling. The prospect of getting a spanking was still terrifying. I stared with horror at the paddle. At the same time I couldn't control the tingling sensation in my sex that showed me that my feelings were utterly mixed.
Words can't really describe the sensation of being a girl, a young woman, on her way to the cinema, dressed for to attract the eyes of the male population and at the next moment being overwhelmed by a sensation of being helpless and extremely vulnerable. I blushed and felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
I accepted it and in my heart I wanted it but seeing the paddle in his hand made me terrified. I felt a sudden surge of anger, a want to protest and tell him that I didn't want it and that it was too painful and not at this moment. Still I stared at him, surrendering to his power. I knew that surrendering to him meant that I couldn't always choose the time and place and that if my surrender was true I had to accept it, not when I wanted it but when he wanted it.
'Now?' I asked with a thin voice.
'Here and now,' he said.
I nodded, scared of saying anything more.
'Pull up your dress and lean forward!' was his simple command.
He could say things like that with a soft and friendly voice. They were orders for me but spoken politely and as if I had a choice. I would never dream of protesting.
I pulled up my dress and leaned forward putting my hands on my thighs.
'Take down your knickers!' he ordered with the same soft voice.
For some reason I thought that maybe he wouldn't want to spank me on the bare. The knickers I had were very thin and covered my buttocks only partly.
I pulled down my knickers and left them at my knees. It was with a sense of loss I felt them touch my skin and continue down to my feet. I assumed my position. He seemed satisfied and held out the paddle.
The paddle was heavy. He had used on me before so I knew how it felt. I knew it was powerful and very, very painful.
There was a part of me that accepted being spanked and I told myself that it was a token of love. I even wanted it and craved it. I longed for the sensation of having been spanked, the calm, the feeling of having endured that came afterwards. Another part felt only fear. It is true that I, at times, wanted to be spanked and it made me aroused but no part of me liked it. No part of me enjoyed the pain of being spanked.
I closed my eyes and held my breath as I felt the cool surface of the paddle against my skin. It was time for my cinema spanking. I shivered as the paddle left my body. I was waiting for the impact.
I felt unreal as I heard the sound of the paddle through the air and then heard it hit my naked skin. I felt the impact and then, in a flash, the pain. The pain overwhelmed me and for a second I doubted my ability to endure. I took a deep breath and the panic gave way to my determination.
The next swat was even more powerful and painful and I had to take a step forward. My legs trembled and I had tears in my eyes. I didn't scream but the pain was excruciating. I didn't want any more. I felt I couldn't take any more. The surge of pain made me shiver. Then a deep breath gave me strength and I braced myself for the next blow.
I had to cry out as the third blow hit my now burning skin. The pain was tremendous and at that moment I couldn't understand why I endured it. I couldn't understand why I didn't just walk away, leaving him standing with his paddle, never to return. Why should I endure such pain, such humiliation and just for his pleasure?
There was a part of me that made me stand still, that made me wait and take the rest, a part that was stronger than my thoughts and stronger than my will to flee the pain.
The fourth blow made me scream a little and my thoughts changed. I stopped thinking, I stopped being concerned with why and for what reason. I just stood there, concentrating on my pain and keeping my position. I accepted it. I accepted being spanked.
I can't say that it was easier after that but I didn't have to struggle with myself. I just stood there waiting for the next blow, enduring the pain.
He gave me twenty more and I was crying and sweating when he was done. My body shivered and I was almost unable to stand up straight.
'Good, that was fun,' he said, 'make yourself ready for the cinema!'
I looked in the mirror and saw a red face with tears streaming from the eyes. I was in a poor state. I went to the toilet and washed my face and arranged my hair again. I was still shivering when I was ready but I looked more composed.
'Don't worry,' he said, 'you look fine. You are gorgeous.'
I didn't feel gorgeous but his words felt good. I smiled a faint smile and he beamed at me. I saw love in his eyes and I felt better.
We left the flat and walked out into the summer evening. My bottom was still on fire and I thought that anyone who saw me would know that I had been severely spanked just a moment ago. I felt vulnerable and naked and exposed to the whole world. My thin knickers felt like the coarsest of jute on my bottom.
As I walked the overwhelming sensation of pain and humiliation gave way to a sort of calm and soft feeling. My heart felt lighter. My bottom still ached but there was a warm feeling that was not altogether unpleasant. I felt a strange pride welling up in me. I was proud of having endured the spanking and I was proud, in a strange way, that he had wanted to spank me. I was his girl, the girl he wanted to spank and the sensation of my burning skin was like him touching me all the time. It was by his will it burned and stung and I enjoyed being overwhelmed by him.
We were in time at the cinema. He bought the tickets and we went in and sat down in the crowded room. It was painful for me to sit. He smiled at me as I moved around being quite uncomfortable.
Ten minutes into the film he leaned over and whispered in my ear to take off my knickers. Suddenly my thoughts left the film and I started thinking about how to do that without attracting attention. I had a man sitting next to me but he seemed fixated at the screen. That was good.
My heart beat faster and I wasn't sure that this was such a good idea. I trusted my partner and had surrendered to him but for a second I was in doubt. Then I knew that I had to do it.
My dress was tight and that made it harder to reach up under it and get hold of my knickers. I tried to do it casually on the side towards the stranger but it took me some time to get hold of my knickers. I pulled and pulled and managed to work them down a bit from my hip. I did the same thing on the other side and felt my knickers moving over my tender skin. The next time I worked on the side towards the stranger it was easier to get hold of them. I had to repeat the procedure two or three times but at last I had moved them down on my thighs but they were still covered by my skirt. I took a deep breath and pretended to drop something on the floor and leaning forward I pulled my knickers down and left them around my ankles. Now I could sit up and step out of them. Then I had to lean forward again to pick them up from the floor. They felt tiny in my hand as I gave them to him. He took them and put them in his pocket.
'Now, pull up your skirt so that your skin touches the chair!' he whispered in my ear.
My heart started pounding again. I had done this before once but then I had worn a long and wide skirt that covered my body, although I had been naked beneath it. This time I had no such privilege.
It was easier to pull up the skirt than it had been to take off the knickers. I suddenly felt my naked and newly spanked skin touch the coarse fabric of the seat and I felt exposed. The sensation was overwhelming. I felt vulnerable and utterly humiliated but at the same time tremendously aroused.
My tight dress clung to my hips and anyone who would look at me sitting there would see that it had been pulled up. It was not obvious that I was without knickers but it would look strange and exposed anyway.
'Don't cross your legs!' he whispered and my heart sank.
I uncrossed my legs and felt even more exposed than before. I could only hope that no one would see me. I sat there half naked in the darkness of the cinema and could not really think about the film we were watching.
My heart was pounding and I felt I was blushing and I struggled to sit still and not provoke any attention. I was terrified and humiliated and my head swirled.
Then I felt his hand. I almost cried out when I felt his hand against my thigh. The fact that it touched naked skin and not my dress made me feel aware of my nakedness.
His touch was powerful and made my body shiver. I held my breath. The sensation when he moved his hand was that of losing control of reality. I wasn't sure I was there and that this was not a dream. Horror, panic and shame went through me as his hand moved towards my sex and I realised how helplessly aroused I was.
I didn't want that arousal and the pleasure of being touched. Still I was helpless. I was at his mercy. I couldn't stop him, couldn't run away. His touch was determined and his fingers found their way into me. I had to surrender.
I had to struggle not to let anyone in the cinema see how I felt. His touch was intrusive, humiliating and powerfully arousing and utterly, utterly desirable. I gave in to the sensation and my body wanted him to take me to the climax despite the horror of being in a public place.
I remember watching the film intensely trying to divert my thoughts. Still I longed, still I wanted it and still he brought me closer to it. He was careful not to rush it. He kept me waiting, holding his fingers still and only moving slightly at times. This made the whole thing slow and painful and absolutely fantastic.
At last he let me come. My body shivered and I had to bite my lip not to cry out. It was powerful, terrifying and utterly pleasurable. I sat there for a long time trembling and not able to do anything but trying to breathe slowly.
Then the sensation of shame struck me. I thought that everyone must know what had happened. I leaned over to him and asked:
'May I pull down my dress?'
'No,' he answered plainly.
I bowed my head in shame.
I sat for a while overcome with my humiliation. After the most powerful surge of shame had left me there was another sensation that called for attention. In my heart I felt a bit proud about what had happened. I was devastated by the fact that I had been had in public, although, hopefully, no one had noticed but at the same time I felt satisfied and proud of having endured. He wanted this of me and I had endured and I had found pleasure in submitting to him and the pleasure he gave me.
The film was long and I started watching it but I didn't for one second forget that I was sitting half naked with my bare skin against the seat and that I had been spanked and taken.
When at last the film came to an end I asked him:
He nodded consent and I pulled down my dress. We left the cinema among the crowd and I didn't care to know if they had seen me. We walked home after this strange and overpowering evening and I knew in my heart that he loved me and that I loved him without constraints and trusted him with my life and my body and I would allow him to do anything with me, anything he wanted.