How do you like to be spanked?

I love it when I'm spanked by the hand...and after the spank I love it when a man grasps my buttocks and squeezes it...and I don't know why, but this turns me on.
I love to give a good squeeze to a sexy ass before and after a hard spanking very hot
 
Do you prefer hand, paddle, hairbrush or maybe a caning?
Me, I personally I like a good long hard hand spanking.
When i am spanked by my Wife with an object, it is impersonal, and She often does it for punishment. But with Her hand it's more at the moment and feels personal, like when She is pegging me doggy style.
 
Over the knee, and hand. Something about having your ass cheeks slapped like a bongo drum is much more humiliating than getting spanked with a hair brush or something else.
 
My answer to this question would typically be, I do not want to be spanked. You can do whatever you want to my ass, but slap it hard, and I’m out of here.

But that all changed when I met Paulie on Tinder. I was working in New York City for a few weeks and got horny one night so I swiped right on a handsome-looking guy. We met up later that evening for drinks at a bar off Mulberry Street in Little Italy. I got there first, and then he walked in, looking like he owned the place. As it turns out, he kind of did (his father owned the place). Usually, Paulie would not be my type. He dressed and acted like Chris Moltisanti on the Sopranos: leather jacket, gold chains, Drakkar Noir cologne. I don’t know if he was mobbed up, but he certainly liked to act the part. For whatever reason, his toxic masculinity took me in. I didn’t buy into it but was willing to go with it for a night.

We did the idle chit-chat about the weather, the city, the Dodgers, and the Yankees, and the basic game-playing you do on a Tinder date as you try to get to the next level. Finally, he cut to the chase. He had other places to be if this wouldn’t end up in a bed.

We got back to my hotel, and I raided the mini bar. I turned around, and he was already naked, sporting impressive goods. I appreciated his get-to-the-point attitude, so I joined him from my knees. He moved us to the window, drew open the curtain, and told me he wanted all of New York to watch him fuck an uppity California bitch.

That probably should have been the cue to tell him to leave, but instead, I decided to show him how a California bitch gives head. I was horny (I think that is apparent) and did not want to make my usual commentary about how to treat a woman.

He reeled off a slew of degrading statements, and I continued on. But when he called me a ‘whore’, I bit down. Not a lot, but enough to make him wince and pull out.

He didn’t say a word. He just left me on my knees, walked over to his clothes, and got dressed to leave.

At this point, I apologized. I could hear myself say, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” and begging him to stay. It was almost an out-of-body experience because calling me a whore should also have ended the night. Instead, I begged him to stay and promised him I would be obedient.

He considered it, looked at me like Don Draper in Mad Men, like I was a product on the shelf, and told me to undress. I did.

He told me to undress him. I did.

He then sat in the cuck chair, you know the one, that lone chair in a hotel room where the cuck husband sits and watches his wife get fucked in porn videos. That chair.

I went to sit on his lap, and he pulled me onto him so I was face down across his lap, ass up.

And that’s when he spanked me. A flat hand, coming down on my very white ass. I should have expected it; after all, what else did I think would happen in this position?

I screamed at the first slap. Not from pain, but surprise. He did it again and then one more time. I did not want a fourth. Or did I? I can’t be sure.

By the third time, my heart was racing. He stood me up and told me that if I wanted him to stay, there would be discipline. He would gladly leave now and think nothing of it—or stay.

Again, I can’t say why, but I begged him to stay. You know me if you’ve read any of my pro-female Literotica writing or forum posts. Letting a man discipline me and then begging him to stay is not me—not at all. But tonight, it was.

I wanted him to take me to the bed, but instead, he took me back to the window. He pressed me against the glass so my breasts were flattened and entered me from behind. We were on a reasonably high floor, and the view down was terrifying. However, my fear was overridden by my desire to keep him happy, and we finished together.

As we walked to the bed to relax, I could see my ass in the mirror; it was bright red from his slaps. The rest of the night was great. No more spanking, but it was all about him dominating me. He left after he finished a second time. Just got up, dressed and left. I was okay with that. I didn’t want to spend the night with a one-and-done.

But I wasn’t done. In my meetings, I could feel the sting of his handiwork as I tried to be comfortable. I had one more night so without calling, I went to his restaurant and saw him sitting with a woman in a booth. I sat at the bar. He saw me.

He approached and asked why I was back. I explained to him that I am a liberated woman, and I did not appreciate him spanking me, calling me a whore, and then leaving without saying anything when he finished. He told me to give him my room key. I obeyed. Let’s face it, that’s why I was there.

I went back to my room, disrobed, and stood in the window for what felt like an hour. But as I hoped it would, the door opened, and he came in—only this time with his female friend from the restaurant booth.

I was immediately embarrassed and pulled the open drape to cover my nudity. He introduced her as his girlfriend and said they needed a place to fuck.

I was furious and told them to leave. She ignored me, disrobed, and got in the bed. He came to me, pulled the drape aside, and guided me to the chair. He remained clothed as he put me in the familiar position and told me never to embarrass him at his place of work. He was angry that I had come back to the restaurant uninvited.

He then proceeded to bring down his hand on my ass three times. Each slap stung worse than the first.

His girlfriend never said a word in bed but seemed to enjoy watching the discipline. He then helped me up and had me sit in the cuck seat as he disrobed. He crawled into the bed and, for the next 45 minutes, proceeded to have his way with her as I watched.

When they were done, the room smelled of sex, and he lay there looking at me. He told the girl to go home because he was done with her. She stood to leave, and he called me to my bed. I felt degraded being called to my own bed to service this chauvinist. But I obeyed

I have no idea why, but perhaps it was some natural selection thing. I asked the girlfriend to stay and watch. She looked to him for permission. He nodded yes, and she took my seat in the cuck chair as I began to work on him and show her how a California bitch is better.

The next day, I upgraded my flight to first class because the thought of sitting in coach for a cross-country flight with a smarting ass was unbearable.

I have been back to New York several times but never back to Little Italy.
 
My answer to this question would typically be, I do not want to be spanked. You can do whatever you want to my ass, but slap it hard, and I’m out of here.

But that all changed when I met Paulie on Tinder. I was working in New York City for a few weeks and got horny one night so I swiped right on a handsome-looking guy. We met up later that evening for drinks at a bar off Mulberry Street in Little Italy. I got there first, and then he walked in, looking like he owned the place. As it turns out, he kind of did (his father owned the place). Usually, Paulie would not be my type. He dressed and acted like Chris Moltisanti on the Sopranos: leather jacket, gold chains, Drakkar Noir cologne. I don’t know if he was mobbed up, but he certainly liked to act the part. For whatever reason, his toxic masculinity took me in. I didn’t buy into it but was willing to go with it for a night.

We did the idle chit-chat about the weather, the city, the Dodgers, and the Yankees, and the basic game-playing you do on a Tinder date as you try to get to the next level. Finally, he cut to the chase. He had other places to be if this wouldn’t end up in a bed.

We got back to my hotel, and I raided the mini bar. I turned around, and he was already naked, sporting impressive goods. I appreciated his get-to-the-point attitude, so I joined him from my knees. He moved us to the window, drew open the curtain, and told me he wanted all of New York to watch him fuck an uppity California bitch.

That probably should have been the cue to tell him to leave, but instead, I decided to show him how a California bitch gives head. I was horny (I think that is apparent) and did not want to make my usual commentary about how to treat a woman.

He reeled off a slew of degrading statements, and I continued on. But when he called me a ‘whore’, I bit down. Not a lot, but enough to make him wince and pull out.

He didn’t say a word. He just left me on my knees, walked over to his clothes, and got dressed to leave.

At this point, I apologized. I could hear myself say, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” and begging him to stay. It was almost an out-of-body experience because calling me a whore should also have ended the night. Instead, I begged him to stay and promised him I would be obedient.

He considered it, looked at me like Don Draper in Mad Men, like I was a product on the shelf, and told me to undress. I did.

He told me to undress him. I did.

He then sat in the cuck chair, you know the one, that lone chair in a hotel room where the cuck husband sits and watches his wife get fucked in porn videos. That chair.

I went to sit on his lap, and he pulled me onto him so I was face down across his lap, ass up.

And that’s when he spanked me. A flat hand, coming down on my very white ass. I should have expected it; after all, what else did I think would happen in this position?

I screamed at the first slap. Not from pain, but surprise. He did it again and then one more time. I did not want a fourth. Or did I? I can’t be sure.

By the third time, my heart was racing. He stood me up and told me that if I wanted him to stay, there would be discipline. He would gladly leave now and think nothing of it—or stay.

Again, I can’t say why, but I begged him to stay. You know me if you’ve read any of my pro-female Literotica writing or forum posts. Letting a man discipline me and then begging him to stay is not me—not at all. But tonight, it was.

I wanted him to take me to the bed, but instead, he took me back to the window. He pressed me against the glass so my breasts were flattened and entered me from behind. We were on a reasonably high floor, and the view down was terrifying. However, my fear was overridden by my desire to keep him happy, and we finished together.

As we walked to the bed to relax, I could see my ass in the mirror; it was bright red from his slaps. The rest of the night was great. No more spanking, but it was all about him dominating me. He left after he finished a second time. Just got up, dressed and left. I was okay with that. I didn’t want to spend the night with a one-and-done.

But I wasn’t done. In my meetings, I could feel the sting of his handiwork as I tried to be comfortable. I had one more night so without calling, I went to his restaurant and saw him sitting with a woman in a booth. I sat at the bar. He saw me.

He approached and asked why I was back. I explained to him that I am a liberated woman, and I did not appreciate him spanking me, calling me a whore, and then leaving without saying anything when he finished. He told me to give him my room key. I obeyed. Let’s face it, that’s why I was there.

I went back to my room, disrobed, and stood in the window for what felt like an hour. But as I hoped it would, the door opened, and he came in—only this time with his female friend from the restaurant booth.

I was immediately embarrassed and pulled the open drape to cover my nudity. He introduced her as his girlfriend and said they needed a place to fuck.

I was furious and told them to leave. She ignored me, disrobed, and got in the bed. He came to me, pulled the drape aside, and guided me to the chair. He remained clothed as he put me in the familiar position and told me never to embarrass him at his place of work. He was angry that I had come back to the restaurant uninvited.

He then proceeded to bring down his hand on my ass three times. Each slap stung worse than the first.

His girlfriend never said a word in bed but seemed to enjoy watching the discipline. He then helped me up and had me sit in the cuck seat as he disrobed. He crawled into the bed and, for the next 45 minutes, proceeded to have his way with her as I watched.

When they were done, the room smelled of sex, and he lay there looking at me. He told the girl to go home because he was done with her. She stood to leave, and he called me to my bed. I felt degraded being called to my own bed to service this chauvinist. But I obeyed

I have no idea why, but perhaps it was some natural selection thing. I asked the girlfriend to stay and watch. She looked to him for permission. He nodded yes, and she took my seat in the cuck chair as I began to work on him and show her how a California bitch is better.

The next day, I upgraded my flight to first class because the thought of sitting in coach for a cross-country flight with a smarting ass was unbearable.

I have been back to New York several times but never back to Little Italy.
Incredibly hot story, good for you to have let yourself experience something different to your usual fare and for you to bring yourself back. It’s the experiences in life that makes us.
 
My answer to this question would typically be, I do not want to be spanked. You can do whatever you want to my ass, but slap it hard, and I’m out of here.

But that all changed when I met Paulie on Tinder. I was working in New York City for a few weeks and got horny one night so I swiped right on a handsome-looking guy. We met up later that evening for drinks at a bar off Mulberry Street in Little Italy. I got there first, and then he walked in, looking like he owned the place. As it turns out, he kind of did (his father owned the place). Usually, Paulie would not be my type. He dressed and acted like Chris Moltisanti on the Sopranos: leather jacket, gold chains, Drakkar Noir cologne. I don’t know if he was mobbed up, but he certainly liked to act the part. For whatever reason, his toxic masculinity took me in. I didn’t buy into it but was willing to go with it for a night.

We did the idle chit-chat about the weather, the city, the Dodgers, and the Yankees, and the basic game-playing you do on a Tinder date as you try to get to the next level. Finally, he cut to the chase. He had other places to be if this wouldn’t end up in a bed.

We got back to my hotel, and I raided the mini bar. I turned around, and he was already naked, sporting impressive goods. I appreciated his get-to-the-point attitude, so I joined him from my knees. He moved us to the window, drew open the curtain, and told me he wanted all of New York to watch him fuck an uppity California bitch.

That probably should have been the cue to tell him to leave, but instead, I decided to show him how a California bitch gives head. I was horny (I think that is apparent) and did not want to make my usual commentary about how to treat a woman.

He reeled off a slew of degrading statements, and I continued on. But when he called me a ‘whore’, I bit down. Not a lot, but enough to make him wince and pull out.

He didn’t say a word. He just left me on my knees, walked over to his clothes, and got dressed to leave.

At this point, I apologized. I could hear myself say, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” and begging him to stay. It was almost an out-of-body experience because calling me a whore should also have ended the night. Instead, I begged him to stay and promised him I would be obedient.

He considered it, looked at me like Don Draper in Mad Men, like I was a product on the shelf, and told me to undress. I did.

He told me to undress him. I did.

He then sat in the cuck chair, you know the one, that lone chair in a hotel room where the cuck husband sits and watches his wife get fucked in porn videos. That chair.

I went to sit on his lap, and he pulled me onto him so I was face down across his lap, ass up.

And that’s when he spanked me. A flat hand, coming down on my very white ass. I should have expected it; after all, what else did I think would happen in this position?

I screamed at the first slap. Not from pain, but surprise. He did it again and then one more time. I did not want a fourth. Or did I? I can’t be sure.

By the third time, my heart was racing. He stood me up and told me that if I wanted him to stay, there would be discipline. He would gladly leave now and think nothing of it—or stay.

Again, I can’t say why, but I begged him to stay. You know me if you’ve read any of my pro-female Literotica writing or forum posts. Letting a man discipline me and then begging him to stay is not me—not at all. But tonight, it was.

I wanted him to take me to the bed, but instead, he took me back to the window. He pressed me against the glass so my breasts were flattened and entered me from behind. We were on a reasonably high floor, and the view down was terrifying. However, my fear was overridden by my desire to keep him happy, and we finished together.

As we walked to the bed to relax, I could see my ass in the mirror; it was bright red from his slaps. The rest of the night was great. No more spanking, but it was all about him dominating me. He left after he finished a second time. Just got up, dressed and left. I was okay with that. I didn’t want to spend the night with a one-and-done.

But I wasn’t done. In my meetings, I could feel the sting of his handiwork as I tried to be comfortable. I had one more night so without calling, I went to his restaurant and saw him sitting with a woman in a booth. I sat at the bar. He saw me.

He approached and asked why I was back. I explained to him that I am a liberated woman, and I did not appreciate him spanking me, calling me a whore, and then leaving without saying anything when he finished. He told me to give him my room key. I obeyed. Let’s face it, that’s why I was there.

I went back to my room, disrobed, and stood in the window for what felt like an hour. But as I hoped it would, the door opened, and he came in—only this time with his female friend from the restaurant booth.

I was immediately embarrassed and pulled the open drape to cover my nudity. He introduced her as his girlfriend and said they needed a place to fuck.

I was furious and told them to leave. She ignored me, disrobed, and got in the bed. He came to me, pulled the drape aside, and guided me to the chair. He remained clothed as he put me in the familiar position and told me never to embarrass him at his place of work. He was angry that I had come back to the restaurant uninvited.

He then proceeded to bring down his hand on my ass three times. Each slap stung worse than the first.

His girlfriend never said a word in bed but seemed to enjoy watching the discipline. He then helped me up and had me sit in the cuck seat as he disrobed. He crawled into the bed and, for the next 45 minutes, proceeded to have his way with her as I watched.

When they were done, the room smelled of sex, and he lay there looking at me. He told the girl to go home because he was done with her. She stood to leave, and he called me to my bed. I felt degraded being called to my own bed to service this chauvinist. But I obeyed

I have no idea why, but perhaps it was some natural selection thing. I asked the girlfriend to stay and watch. She looked to him for permission. He nodded yes, and she took my seat in the cuck chair as I began to work on him and show her how a California bitch is better.

The next day, I upgraded my flight to first class because the thought of sitting in coach for a cross-country flight with a smarting ass was unbearable.

I have been back to New York several times but never back to Little Italy.
Gr8 👍 story...intriguing!!!
 
We have very different ideas of what is painful! I only ever noticed the "thud" of a flogger, for me there isn't a "sting" or "slap", which is the real torturous part of impact play. Did you feel a sting with the flogger?
I love being flogged, I crave it. It can sting if the strokes are hard enough but it doesn't have to for me to enjoy it, a heavy thudding works for me too. It's just the whole thing of being naked and helpless, affixed to a St. Andrews cross or a bed or whatever and flogged that excites me.
 
Recently I had a fantasy of mine fulfilled when I had my tits spanked. Oh my it was soooo damn hot and delicious!!!! Bare handed though because I fear anything else may cause long term damage to chest.
I like spanking or slapping several places on a woman's body, and yes, with breasts, it's barehanded and not too hard. Hold the wrists behind her back with my left hand, and reach around with my right, slap upward with glancing blows, testing her, and watching her face. I'm not a masochist, per se, and I consider these kinds of spank a way to jangle the nerves, to wake them up, get blood flowing, in addition to the control dimension involved. I have a similar way of doing pussy spanks.
 
I love it when I'm spanked by the hand...and after the spank I love it when a man grasps my buttocks and squeezes it...and I don't know why, but this turns me on.
I prefer giving spankings with my hands. I want to feel some of what I'm giving, and I have a fetish for a woman's backside. My hands are big enough that size 5 gloves are a struggle to put on. I curve my hand, so I know it stings and also makes a loud smack. I like to have the woman bent over, bracing against something. I stand to her left side so I can use my dominant right hand. I aim the spanks to land on the bottom edge of her ass on either side of where her mound is protruding slightly between her legs. I want her to feel the heat radiating into her pussy, and I want her to feel some of my power in how the jarring force travels up her spine through her whole body. It's a man spanking her, and I want her to feel a little man-handled.
 
I crave being spanked, preferably for being punished but of course just for general fun to. I need the person to want to slap everywhere on me. I want them to relish hearing me moan, squeal and scream.

How do I like it? On their knees, with my tits out for them to squeeze onto or twist a fat puffy nipple if they feel like it. My panties pushed to the side or stripped off. My legs pervertedly spread apart as are my bare lips. Your sharp slap should soundly over the wet moist flesh and my tight asshole after it has had his fill of my soft pert candy apple butt.
very hot I wish I could be the spanker
 
I crave being spanked, preferably for being punished but of course just for general fun to. I need the person to want to slap everywhere on me. I want them to relish hearing me moan, squeal and scream.

How do I like it? On their knees, with my tits out for them to squeeze onto or twist a fat puffy nipple if they feel like it. My panties pushed to the side or stripped off. My legs pervertedly spread apart as are my bare lips. Your sharp slap should soundly over the wet moist flesh and my tight asshole after it has had his fill of my soft pert candy apple butt.
Arousing details and descriptions to read. I like to make a woman say explicit things out loud sometimes, especially if she has some reluctance in this area. It doesn't have to be slang-type words for the lovely bits, but just expressing explicit details about sex engages more of the mind and, I believe, broadens the arousal.

As for spanking everywhere, I like to hear your enjoyment of this kind of attention. I have my own reasons for feeling this against my hands. My hands are additional eyes and I want to experience more of your form as well as more precisely modulate the level of sting and stimulation to your skin.

Tell me more about what you like about receiving slaps and spanks. If you don't mind, confirm my hunch: Part of the pleasure is the internal psychology of it, the submission, and part is physical sensation... sting, heat, and what I like to call waking up your nerve endings... how it feels afterward.
 
Plenty to say that I'm not sure I can express in a comment.

You're right. It is both. The sharp sensation that fires up both pain and pleasure centers make me drool. Pain is subjective and I have my limits, but I prefer a human touch such as hands, mouth or a cock. No whips, clamps etc.,.

The other is the submission which is absolutely psychological. It depends on my relationship with the person as well. The act of not only being naked in front of someone, but subject to a humiliating and vulnerable position and taking advantage of the vulnerability by letting themselves go on my most intimate parts hits all the right spots. I don't want my mouth covered or stuffed because I want them to relish hearing my squeals, moans, groans and screams. I want them to enjoy my struggles and my squirms.
the thought of you moaning and squirming under my touch has me very turned on right now
 
Plenty to say that I'm not sure I can express in a comment.

You're right. It is both. The sharp sensation that fires up both pain and pleasure centers make me drool. Pain is subjective and I have my limits, but I prefer a human touch such as hands, mouth or a cock. No whips, clamps etc.,.

The other is the submission which is absolutely psychological. It depends on my relationship with the person as well. The act of not only being naked in front of someone, but subject to a humiliating and vulnerable position and taking advantage of the vulnerability by letting themselves go on my most intimate parts hits all the right spots. I don't want my mouth covered or stuffed because I want them to relish hearing my squeals, moans, groans and screams. I want them to enjoy my struggles and my squirms.
I like (again) seeing the level of detail in your answer, even if this is your condensed version.

I like to juxtapose sensations and randomly mix in soothing touches on recently stung skin as well intimately teasing touches. A woman's vulva has a wealth of spots that can be teased and stimulated, and most likely your body will have that slippery fragrant stuff seeping out after a methodically building spanking mixed with soothing and teasing caresses. Maybe I'm full of it, but I imagine the parts having a mind of their own almost, and developing a degree of anticipation of what will come next. The uncertainty of it and the mix of sensations, especially if I use a blindfold, crowds the mind, elevates your tactile sensitivity, and enhances your sense of surrendered power.

I'm also not a fan of gags, nor of marks. Some people like both and have their reasons, but I would rather experience the full range of your responses and not have your face and facial expressions blocked from my view. I am particularly fond of a genuine whimper, which will happen when the tension and anticipation have risen beyond your vocal self-control.

I wrote about my preferred position for an erotic spanking on your ass in another post, but for other forms of teasing and stinging, I like to have you kneel on the bed facing away, upright with your thighs spread, lower legs tucked under, and your hands laced behind your neck. This grants me access to spank, slap, tease, suck, bite, kiss, and squeeze everything. My favorite part is how this position with thighs spread will open your cunt more. Your outer labia spread apart, leaving your inner labia and clit shaft protruding more prominently, which makes it easier to tease just so. Some women, after a slow build of sensations in this position, erupt when I finally grazed their clit shaft with a single finger. It's all about their mental state and how in synch I am with them through this.
 
Preferably in front of friends or family. Should always be fully nude and spanked in profile to onlookers. Give them the side view of hanging breasts or dangling penis with a chance to see his/her punished face. A fabulous combination of pain and humiliation.
 
Preferably in front of friends or family. Should always be fully nude and spanked in profile to onlookers. Give them the side view of hanging breasts or dangling penis with a chance to see his/her punished face. A fabulous combination of pain and humiliation.
Goddam that’s hot!
 
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