by Leland Mays
Then Prince Rolando led Annabelle, naked and helpless, down the stairs to his dungeon of horrors. Once there, he turned to admire his trophy. A cruel yet affectionate look came to his virile visage as his eyes feasted on every inch of the girl's luscious body.
"Now, my haughty little wench," he said to his bride-to-be, "you will see how we men of the Robespierre family tame our women. With a hard strap and a good cane, that's how!"
Annabelle shook her head; her silky blonde hair swirled around her. Her taut but enormous breasts swung back and forth like pendulums. "No, Rolando, I beg you - I'm delicate. Don't spank me. I can't stand the thought of pain. Yes, I am a shameless slut, but please don't hold that against me!"
"Enough talk!" the brute growled. Reaching for a leather strap on the wall behind him, he then took hold of the red ribbon tied to Annabelle's choker and drew her to him. She was engulfed in his manly aroma of stale sweat and tobacco breath. "A woman's place is over a man's knee," he said rudely.
His biceps rippling, Rolando sat down on a bench and threw Annabelle over his knee as if she were a rag doll. The man gazed upon superb ripe hemispheres that were the envy of every woman in the kingdom. They shone like twin moons.
"Let's begin with a good strapping, my pet," grinned Rolando. He raised the thick strap and brought it down on Annabelle's bottom. Whap! came the sound, as sharp as a gunshot, as leather struck flesh. The fiend, his arm now a blur, rained down smacks upon the girl's butt cheeks.
"Oooh!" wailed Annabelle. "Ah, no! Please stop!" she begged. Each smack brought searing pain that spread through her young body.
Then it happened. Slowly at first, but more intensely with each whap!, a wave of raw passion swept over Annabelle like a tsunami. She gasped in surprise. But there was no denying it. Pure lust welled up within her.
Rolando paused, squeezing her burning butt cheeks. "Let's move on to the main event, shall we?"
He drew Annabelle up and tied her hands to a low post near the wall. She had no choice but to stand bent over, her breasts hanging straight down. Her flaming red buttocks were thrust out most lewdly.
The cad selected a thin cane, whipping it back and forth in the air. Annabelle looked at it in horror. Yet still her body burned with passion. The swollen core of Annabelle's womanhood was wet with the nectar of desire.
Rolando raised his arm and came down. The cane whistled through the air, then etched a red welt across Annabelle's bottom. She bucked and cried, "Yow!" As she settled back to the floor, Rolando once again lashed her bottom, leaving another welt darker than the first.
Wonderful pain engulfed Annabelle. With it came sensual desires the likes of which she never knew a woman could feel. She was now at one with her agony, welcoming it joyously! The cane stung her soft mounds without mercy. But she reveled in it as Rolando punished her bottom again and again. Each explosion of searing pain merely added to Annabelle's lust. She ached for Rolando's hard love rod, for the ecstasy of his seed gushing into her!
When he finally paused, Annabelle gasped, "Take me, Prince Rolando. Do with me as you wish! And make it snappy!"
Rolando threw down the cane and took his prize into his brawny arms. She clung to him as he carried her upstairs. Her body was on fire, a glorious mélange of pain and wild sexual urges. The caning had awakened the animal within Annabelle. She was past the point of no return, now eager for a night of unbridled pleasure. The memory of it would bring a smile in her old age.
The mental picture of Rolando and Annabelle began to fade in Tina Hutchins' mind. Still looking at the computer screen where she had been breathlessly reading, the twenty-something woman thought, Golly, that's hot. Can a hard spanking really be a turn-on for a woman? It must. These stories are so ... so realistic. What luck to stumble onto this spanking website. I wonder who the author is.
The mantel clock chimed one in the morning as, unable to stop herself, Tina let her hand move between her legs to press flesh made warm and tingly by merely reading words on a computer screen. She glanced from the living room toward the bedroom. There slept her husband Ken, snoring peacefully.
Tina, like Annabelle, savored the concupiscence sweeping over her. Maybe this is what our marriage needs, she thought. It used to be sex every night. Sex, sex, sex. Now it's so blah. Same old same old. Where's the excitement? Is a good spanking the path to sexual bliss, she wondered. It's worth a try.
Several days later, Ken returned home to their duplex from another day managing the local Ford dealership. "Hey, babe, I'm home," he said as he entered the kitchen from their covered garage. Then he abruptly stopped and did a double take.
Tina stood at the kitchen counter, her back to him. Then she turned, a martini in her hand. She was wearing, just barely, a thin nylon dress. Bright red in color, it had spaghetti straps and was cut low enough to show ample décolletage, not to mention the outline of her nipples. Ken's eyes, however, went to the dress's hem, which lay scant inches below her panties.
"Tina?" he said. "What's that you're wearing?"
"It's my new dress. Do you like it?"
"You bet I do. As long as you don't wear it in public."
"Oh, but I did, Ken," purred Tina, her eyes partly closed. "I wore it to the mall. You should have seen the way men looked at me. Goodness!"
"What!"
Tina sashayed over to her husband, a martini in hand. As she handed it to Ken, she said, "And in the parking lot, that awful wind blew my little dress up to my waist. Those teenage boys and their dads who were passing by saw my naked butt."
Tina had of course never left the house in the dress. But what are a few white lies if they lead to sexual nirvana?
"What do you mean, your naked butt?" cried Ken. He quickly downed the martini and set the glass aside.
"Almost naked," giggled Tina as she turned around and lifted the dress, revealing her red thong panties. There wasn't much to them except for a narrow waistband and a strip of cloth that disappeared into her nether cleavage.
Ken's jaw dropped. "Good grief! Tina, since when did you become a..."
"A shameless slut?"
"Well, yes. A man's own wife shouldn't flaunt herself in front of other men."
Continuing to sway her hips slightly, Tina murmured, "Oh, but I liked it, Ken. It turned me on to know guys were lusting after me. I felt ... I felt a wave of raw passion sweep over me like a tsunami."
"Like a what?"
"My whole body was on fire, Ken. I burned with wild sexual urges."
"Doggone it, Tina, why are you talking funny like that? Are you drunk? Now quit it. If you don't, I'll..."
"Do what, Ken?" smiled Tina. "Does a wuss like you know how to punish his wife when she acts like a ... a haughty little wench?"
"There are ways, you know."
Tina took Ken's arm and led him to the living room. She gestured to a padded footstool near the fireplace, atop which lay a wooden paddle. "Does that give you any ideas?" she said. "I ... I do feel guilty, hon. Maybe you should give me the spanking a naughty wife needs, hmm?"
"Where did you get that paddle?" asked Ken. He did another double take when he saw a thin rattan cane about two feet long, with a ten-inch handle, propped up against the sofa arm. "And that, for Pete's sake?"
Tina knelt before her husband and looked up at him, penitence written on her face. "I felt so ashamed, sweetheart. I knew I'd misbehaved, so I bought the paddle and cane. Now you can punish me proper. I'm ... I'm delicate, but I deserve to feel searing pain in my bottom. To be spanked and caned until my whole body is aflame and I'm ready to explode with desire."
Ken gave his wife another puzzled look, then drew her up from her knees, saying, "You're right, Tina. After what you did, it would do me good to spank you."
"It would do me good too," nodded Tina as she quickly grasped the waistband of her thong panties, drew them down, and off. With surprising eagerness she let Ken take her over his knee as he picked up the paddle and sat down on the footstool. Then he pushed her dress to her waist. Tina arched her bottom upwards, ready for glorious pain that would bring with it pure ecstasy.
She closed her eyes, then, gasped slightly as Ken brought the paddle down on her bottom, whap! Tina felt little during the first few smacks; soon she was wincing each time the paddle made impact. But the smacks brought pain and nothing else. Each wallop brought pain more intense. And still nothing else.
Ken paused, saying, "Well, hon, have you learned your lesson? If not, I'll keep paddling your butt."
"Maybe I need a good caning, sweetheart," gasped Tina. "Let's try that."
Without waiting for an answer, she got up, took the cane, and handed it to her husband. She slipped out of her dress. Now naked, Tina placed her elbows on the sofa arm, lowered her back, and again arched out her bottom, awaiting the cane's wrath. She smiled, eager for pain that would lift her into realms of bliss. The fiery red welts inflicted by the cane would make all the sweeter the feel of Ken's love rod deep within her.
"Are you sure?" asked Ken.
"Yes," said Tina, looking back at him. "It will sting mercilessly, but it will inflame me with lust. Don't stop, Ken, until the core of my womanhood is wet with the nectar of desire."
"If you say so, babe," remarked Ken as he drew back the cane and came down on Tina's now-tender butt cheeks. Crack! came the sound as hard rattan assailed soft flesh. In a flash Tina felt a burst of excruciating pain, the likes of which she never knew a woman could feel. It surged through her like a tsunami.
"Sweet mother of god!" she screamed as she jumped two inches off the floor. "Oh my word that hurts!" Piercing agony swept through her body. It was as if her butt had been dunked into scalding hot water. "Ooh, ow, ooh!" she keened, stunned and breathless. She wondered if the core of her womanhood was wet with nectar. But in fact she wasn't even damp.
Then Tina heard the cane swish through the air again. Once more came fiery pain beyond all endurance as the cruel rattan bit into her butt cheeks. "Oh my god! Oooh jeez!" yelled Tina at the top of her voice. She stood up and turned to Ken.
"You son of a bitch, that hurt!"
"Sure it did," grinned her husband. "The whole idea of a spanking is to inflict pain, isn't it, hon?"
"You want pain, you jerk, let me give you some pain!" The naked woman leaped like a panther at Ken. Her long fingernails were at the ready on one hand; the other was clenched into a fist. The impact drove them both backwards and down onto the floor.
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