Hello, I am back. It was nice to be away from computers but I would have wanted it to be more relaxing. I still need a holiday. Just a short spanking story. This one is written from the point of view of the spanker, not usual in my stories, nothing special though, just some smacking of bottoms.
'You know what this means?'
'No, please,' she said. She looked scared.
'Get the strap.'
'No, please, I didn't mean to, it was really out of my control.'
'I don't care.'
'Get the strap.'
Sophie sighed and rose to her feet. I watched her as she walked over to the cupboard and got the strap. It was made of thick, heavy leather, four inches wide and half a metre in length. It had a wooden handle which made it easier to swing with good effect.
Sophie moved softly as she returned to me and gave me the strap.
'That strap hurts.'
'I know,' I replied, 'I know.'
I pointed to the armrest of the sofa as I rose to my feet. Sophie took a step closer to it and leaned forward.
'You didn't say.'
'I didn't say you could keep them on.'
She sighed and unbuttoned her jeans and wriggled them down from her hips. She turned to the sofa.
'Please, it hurts enough as it is.'
'That is what I want.'
She pulled down her knickers to her knees as I watched her. She stood for a while regarding me, her jeans and knickers around her knees.
'Please, you don't have to do this.'
'I think I should.'
'It's supposed to hurt.'
'I will give you extras now.'
Sophie sighed and turned to the sofa. She draped her body across the armrest, knowing exactly where to put her bottom. She arranged herself so that her bottom was sticking up in a good angle, easy to reach with the strap.
The room had changed. It had been inhabited by two people, sitting in the sofa, talking. Now everything was different. One of them was lying, face down, over the armrest, jeans and knickers around her knees, quite bared. The other one was standing besides holding a tool of shame and pain.
I cherished this moment. There was something immensely cruel about it. The difference between us couldn't be greater. Sophie was lying down, bottom towards me, unable to protect herself. She was not just quite helpless, she was also exposed, her skin bared to make it even more vulnerable.
And there I was, standing, the threat of pain in my hand, intent on using it on her, letting the leather make painful contact with her exposed skin. I was in power, she was exposed to that power and the cruelty was that I was using it to make her suffer.
I enjoyed it. That was the naughty and cruel part of it. I enjoyed it, and relished the power I had, and the fact that I was going to use it.
Sophie jumped as I let the heavy leather strap hit her naked skin. The sound was tremendous, a sharp report that seemed to penetrate our ears.
I thought to myself: 'how can I be so immensely mean as to hit this sweetest of bottoms, this sensitive skin, with this hard leather?' I hit her again and this time I saw her body shiver as she tried to overcome the sensation of pain. 'How can I enjoy it?'
Sophie was moaning after the third smack had hit home. Her bottom was beginning to show signs of the spanking, pink against the fairer skin, the affected areas showing sharp and straight edges.
The mood had changed when the spanking began. Sophie was lying still, obedient. There was no pleading or protesting. There was no groaning and crying for shows. She was just lying there, shivering, breathing heavily, taking her spanking.
I knew there was no reason, no crime, no punishment. This was different. I wanted to spank her. Sophie knew that, I knew that. It was just me wanting to spank her, me wanting the pleasure of seeing my strap hit her tender flesh, seeing her jump with the impact, knowing she felt it in her body.
She was immensely sweet for me, lying there, vulnerable and beautiful. Spanking her was cruel but I wanted cruel. I wanted to see the impact, the effect it had on her. I wanted the power.
I gave her three quick ones and Sophie started to wriggle her body and turn in agony. I stopped and let her collect herself. Then I smacked her again. She jumped.
I began a long series of ten or twelve smacks, some seconds in between, but hard. She gasped and squirmed but kept her position. She indulged me.
I gave her a smack on her thighs and she squealed. She didn't protest or sound angry, just couldn't hold back.
I gave her a series of quick hard smacks and Sophie had a hard time staying down. She moaned and squirmed as the strap made contact with her now pink and red bottom.
I was done with the strap. Sophie was still, not daring to move. I went to the cupboard and got myself a stick, a bamboo stick. It was vicious.
'You remember I promised you extras?'
'Yes,' she replied, her voice muffled.
'Here they are.'
I let the stick fly through the air with a hissing sound and hit her across the buttocks. Sophie cried out and tensed her body as the stick drew a red line across her bottom.
The bamboo was mean. I knew that. Sophie felt that. Still I gave her five more.
The red marks of the stick stood out against the pink that was left by the strap. I was done.
'That's enough, on your feet.'
She rose and turned to me. Her face was flustered but she smiled.
I held out my arms and she came into my embrace. She kissed my cheek.
'You bastard,' she whispered softly.
'I wish I was.'
She moved her head back and looked me in the eyes. Then she kissed me.