Secrets are best left as such if you have no hope of dreaming.
I honestly had no fucking idea that what I wanted to share with her was, in fact, a fantasy she had harbored in silence for years. One that Leigh was very reluctant to admitting to as well as a reality I was not sure I could deliver.
I wanted to break her. Crush her spirit. Destroy the walls that she had built around her so thought limits. Fucking reduce the woman I love more than any other to a heaving, sobbing mass of quivering, alabaster hued flesh… with the sole exception of her cherry red hot ass from the beating it just received from my hand and her hair brush.
In short, I wanted to spank her to frantic tears in the dark. Who knew that she secretly craved this? I sure as fuck didn’t. But I did now.
And it was going to happen. Tonight.
The seed for this had been planted earlier that morning prior to my leaving for work. After the wonderful scene of her own suggestion – a day long orgasm denial, an hour of playing and then forcing her bound, spread eagled cunt to as many orgasms as I fancied (apparently the tickled number for my fancy was something over 30) – this evening was my turn. I told her as much as I kissed her. “Tonight is my night. Your ass is mine.” and left it at that. And to clean that hair brush so well I could use it as a mirror if I chose.
We’ve scened spanking before and its always been great. But this was going to be different. Tonight was not going to be about spanking, but rather spanking was going to be the medium about which we would break her boundaries and set her free.
The foreplay started with a sext that, had I not been standing behind a counter, would have been extremely embarrassing due to the tent it pitched at Camp Crotch. My ass buzzed, and upon taking my cell phone out of my rear pocket I was greeted with:
“Stuffed that fat, pink plug into my pussy, turned it on and mowed for 3 hours. I need a straight jacket! O.o”
“That fat, pink plug” is a large vibrating butt plug. And when I say large I mean wince large. As in it takes a LOT of dedication to get that bulbous monster past your involuntary sphincter muscle. To the point that we use it for other things like, oh, say vaginal insertion while riding a Sears riding mower.
Rather than regale you with the witty & blatant sextathon that followed I’ll cut to the chase in where I made mention of her being naughty, to which she replied:
“Like tonight. How yummy its going to feel with your hand on my ass. Hot and sharp and delicious”
After that we segued into about 30 minutes of discussing whether or not the pile of clothes I had dumped on the bed to free up the clothes basket were in fact dirty or clean (they were dirty….dirty dirty clothes) How’s that for sext?
I should have mentioned that much earlier than day, after *SMACKING* my open palm with the hair brush, I commented on how much fun it would be to use on her. She reminded me that her mother, when she was a girl in school, used similar tactics for real corporal punishment and as a result she had baggage with the like.
My selective male hearing locked in on “school”, “girl” and “spank”. What a fucking beautiful idea – a naughty school girl being disciplined. She already had the outfit so…
Oh, what’s that. You want to hear more about the outfit? Bear with me. In time. Patience is a virtue.
The drive home gave me ample opportunity to finalize my plans for the evening. That and to think about what I was going to say to her as part of our pre-scene discussion. This was not going to be just “I won’t tease the boys again, Mr. Hardwood!!” role play. This was going to be Leigh being pushed further than she had ever been so before.
As her Sir I have a lot of fucking responsibilties. First and foremost to her safety, both inside and out. I was fairly confidant the delicious space under her panties would absorb the ass beating fine. It was the space between her ears that I was most concerned about, as well as that space that she was going to occupy in her soul. I mean, how do you tell someone you’d give your life for that you love them so much that you want to viciously blister their ass to the point of reducing them to fucking fragments?
I came home to a beaming and extremely aroused Leigh. She was sopping wet, had been for hours. Masturbating for 180 minutes while edging near the pine trees as you wave to the neighbors walking their dog will do that to a woman. We could putt on the front yard if we wanted to.
A great dinner of cast iron seared haddock, Spanish rice, scalloped potatoes (all from scratch, thank you) and her company was a nice start to the evening of pain awaiting her. We discussed all kinds of BDSM topics like others discuss a grocery list. A quick, hot shower with plenty of good, clean groping followed. She got out first (naturally since she had all the water oh do not even get me started on this travesty of bathing sexual harassment) and headed downstairs to dress. After washing up and just some time to *ahhhh* under the hot, steamy jets I exited as well, dried off and headed down stairs to join her.
The vision that greeted me as I turned the corner into our bedroom will, I am sure, be among the last 100 or so images I see as my life ticks down to game over when its time for the dirt nap. I gasped out loud. She laughed. I grinned and said “Fuck baby” about 17 times, which ironically is also the age her outfit made her look…