Spank You! (A Challenge)

[English Lady]

So talking on Liar's Meta-motivation thread about challenges and then spanking I came up with another challenge idea.

Ok So I don't want to limit you here, so no word limit and no time limit.

The keyword this time is (you'll never guess)

Spank!


It doesn't have to be a full on BDSM piece (though if that takes your fancy, go ahead ) it can be light and teasing. It can be whatever the word "Spank" brings to mind for you.


So go forth and Spank your muses folks!

 

[Penelope Street]

Ok. I'll play.

My Spanking
by Penny

Once each month, on average, my love and I enjoy a little scenario. For two hours on a given night, one of us is the mistress and the other her slave girl. We takes turns assuming each role. Whatever the mistress demands, the slave girl must do without question or complaint. We're not into serious bondage, but it's a nice change of pace from the usual stuff. That said, we don't have any other rules, trusting in our love for one other.

Every time I hear about spanking now, my mind races back to last winter when my love sent me out into a cold night to find her a frozen Snickers bar. Either these treats are big sellers in the winter or they are in such low demand, that no one stocks them; I had to visit several stores to find one and the trip took me over half an hour.

My love announced upon my return that I had taken far too long and she proceeded to spank me with a hairbrush for my tardyness. It wasn't a nasty beating or anything, though it did sting a bit. That spanking itself was not so erotic as the frame of mind it left me in, not knowing what she might do next.

I gave her a foot rub and did her nails after which she proceeded to, well, demand the usual stuff. Even though we didn't do anything new after the spanking, the situation was charged for me because I felt at any second she might demand something new, something I hadn't ever thought of, let alone done.

This one incident has raised my level of excitement each time it's her night. She's never spanked me again, but in the back of my mind I know she might. Sometimes I even hope she will. Or I dream she might have another surprise waiting for, something I might discover I enjoy in spite of my preconceptions to the contrary, much like my special little spanking.

 

[English Lady]

Thank You Penny-A great start

 

[Guest]

Thank you, EL. This is *exactly* what I need. How did you know?

I'm gonna attempt something now from two angles. First of all as that of sub (spankee), then that of Domme (spanker).

Being Spanked

I was late, but I didn’t want to rush the final preparations. After pulling up the second of my white, lace-topped stockings, I checked my hair in the rear-view mirror. Pigtails, just as he’d asked. They looked good, if not quite “me”, but what he asked for, he got.

Leaving the car, I glanced around, feeling very self-conscious. If anybody saw me, they’d know. I shut the car door, looked around one final time, then ran. I didn’t stop until I reached the back door. The tiny black skirt barely covered my ass, but, despite the freezing temperature, the tops of my thighs didn’t have time to get cold.

Tentatively, I placed my hand on the door handle. I pushed it down, then pulled the door open and peeked inside. No sign of him. He said he’d be waiting for me. Where was he?

“You’re late!”

I gulped.

My heart leapt into my throat.

I looked to my right, and there he was, stood in the corner, waiting for me. Stupidly, the phrase, “’Come into my parlour,’ said the spider to the fly,” ran through my mind.

I entered the room and he walked up to me. After he’d closed, and locked, the back door, he took my bag off me. “I told you not to be late,” he said, then jerkily unzipped my jacket and pulled it off me.

“Good girl, at least you’re wearing your uniform. Very sexy.”

The previous day he’d instructed me to be dressed as a schoolgirl. I’d never dressed up like that before, and I’d been honest with him and said that I didn’t think it would suit me. He just told me to do my best. After a little more light protesting on my part, he said, “Just do it!” So, I did. I knew I was already in for plenty of punishment, so I wasn’t about to provoke him further.

“Get over there,” he ordered me, pointing to a tabletop. Once I was stood in front of it, he held the back of my neck and pushed me down. My top half was flat on the table, and my ass was sticking in the air.

“This is for disobeying me and being late,” he said, before yanking up my skirt, exposing my ass.

Smack.

It stung, but it wasn’t unbearable.

Smack, smack, SMACK!

When his hand connected with my bare skin that time it hurt. A lot.

Smack, smack, smack, smack, SMACK! Over and over again.

Stinging doesn’t even begin to describe how it felt. Tears sprang to my eyes.

He didn’t let up. Each time his hand came down, I flinched. My body twitched and jerked and I sobbed. I had tried, so very hard, to get there on time. Through no fault of my own, I’d been held up in traffic. Now I was being punished for it. It felt so unfair.

Still the blows rained down on my sore ass.

I grabbed the edge of the table with both hands, and watched with fascination as my knuckles turned white. At that point, I could only begin to imagine how red my ass was.

He wasn’t going to let up.

I watched as tear drops fell onto the lacquered surface below my face.

Then the rush hit me. The immense rush I get when I undergo a severe spanking. He was treating me bad, because I was a very naughty girl, and he was turning me on.

During the next succession of quick smacks, I squirmed. I wanted him.

I needed him.

I didn’t have to wait long, before he pulled my thong to one side, then entered me…



Spanking

“Get down on your knees!”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Don’t talk to me!”

I walked up close to him, his face level with my pussy. I pulled up my skirt, yanked my black thong to one side, and said, “Eat me. Eat me, now. Make me come. If you don’t make me come, I will punish you.”

He didn’t reply. Good boy. His hands went to my pussy lips and he gently eased them apart. His open mouth went straight at me, his tongue darting out, flicking at my clit. He tried to get to my opening, but the angle was all wrong. There was no way I was going to come, with us in this position, but he’d be punished anyway.

“Get up! Get over to the chair.” I grabbed the back of his neck and shoved him, face down, into the seat of the armchair. His ass was mine. Before he knew it, I began spanking him. He didn’t even have time to brace himself.

SMACK! I loved watching his reactions.

SMACK! With each firm blow his body jerked, his fists clenched and he screwed his eyes up.

Smack, smack, SMACK!

I didn’t let up.

“You didn’t make me come. You failed!”

When my right hand began to sting, I changed to my left hand, and spanked him some more. His red ass looked very sore indeed. Good.

“Want another chance?” He merely nodded in reply.

“Fuck it, I’m sitting down for this!” I said out loud. I shoved him out of the way and sank into the cushioned armchair. He was knelt before me, as I spread my legs and let each one hang over each arm of the chair.

“Eat me!” I said again. “Come on, make me come, and do it right this time.”

His hands went to my pussy again and he pulled my lips apart. This time his tongue did find my opening, and it felt good. But only good, not good enough.

"Eat my cunt!"

I moaned a little and squirmed with pleasure when he tried a bit harder. His tongue lapped at me, and it began to feel really good. But he still wasn’t hitting that spot, the one he knew very well would make me come in no time.

“Make me come, you shit. Do it, now!”

He tried, but it was not good enough. I knew he could do better and he wasn’t giving me what I knew he could. This annoyed me. He obviously wanted punishing, so punishment he would get.

I pushed his head back, with both my hands, then swung my left leg up and over his head, and jumped to my feet. Before he knew what was happening, I’d shoved his face into the seat again and began my stinging blows on his ass.

“You disappoint me, you insolent fucker,” I spat at him, as I spanked his sorry ass.

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, over and over again. His lovely ass was bright red, and I knew how much it was hurting him. I knew very well. I recalled the many times he’d spanked me, making me cry, making me flinch in pain, and now I was the one in control. We had switched, and he’d submitted to me. The power I felt over him right then gave me such a rush, I needed to come, and fast.

After a few more painful blows, I stopped. I couldn’t see his face – he’d buried it in the cushion of the seat. Poor little boy was hurting.

“Want one final chance?”

“Um, sorry?”

“One final chance to get it right!”

“Oh yes. Yes, please, Miss.”

“Good. If you don’t get it right this time, you’ll be crying, be sure of that.”

My breathing was heavy as I took up my position in the seat again. He looked at me, briefly, giving me direct eye contact, testing my resolve, perhaps? I realised he meant business this time, when his hands went to my inner thighs. He pushed my legs apart, wide, and went down on me.

This time, he didn’t waste any time. He went at me, as if he was the one in control, and I let him. His hands travelled down my legs, to my knees, pushing them further apart. His mouth went at me hungrily. It felt good, damn good! His tongue flicked over my clit, as his hands moved down my booted calves, to my ankles. He pushed my legs up and back, over my head. Now he could get to me.

The tip of his tongue hit my spot, and I flinched beneath him. He was asserting himself over me, giving me what he knew I needed: rough treatment. His tongue probed in and out of me, flicking up and out as it did. He was into his rhythm now. His technique always gets me, fast.

I began to come. I bucked and growled beneath him, but he didn’t let up. He carried on eating me and I forgot all about being Domme. I was lost in my orgasm. The house could have fallen down around me, and I wouldn’t have noticed. The wave of pleasure soared through my body, and his tongue still carried on hitting me, right at the source of that pleasure, sending what felt like mini-electric shocks through my body.

I screamed.

I closed my eyes and let go.

He gave me my orgasm, and then some. For pleasing me – oh God, did he please me – it was now his turn for a treat…

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've written something! Cheers, EL!

Lou

 

[carsonshepherd]

And how! Yummy Lou!

(no spanky story for me, kids. Just peeking in.)

 

[she_is_my_addiction]

It's Lou appearance!

I considered doing a spanking story....but I'm not feeling very (get ready to gasp) smutty lately.

 

[English Lady]

Wow Lou! That was just what I needed too! Fantastically hot from both viewpoints!

Carson...awwwww

SIMA...Want some help? (I am the happiness fairy ya know )

I'll do one soon. I need to recover from Lou's first!

 

[she_is_my_addiction]

I may as well get used to writing all different categories, since I took the Survivor plunge. But seriously, I'm not going to write until after I get settled in my new place.

*determined look* That should hopefully be by tomorrow.

I could use a prayer though...

 

[English Lady]

you've got it


hopefully see you writing soon

 

[she_is_my_addiction]

you've got it


hopefully see you writing soon

The sexiest prayer lady I know....

 

[English Lady]

Thank you

 

[she_is_my_addiction]

Thank you

 

[Guest]

Carson and EL, thank you both, so much. I got myself a bit hot. Gonna spend the rest of the evening writing now.

SIMA, yep, I put in my appearance.

Lou

 

[she_is_my_addiction]

Carson and EL, thank you both, so much. I got myself a bit hot. Gonna spend the rest of the evening writing now.

SIMA, yep, I put in my appearance.

Lou

Writing?...or....nevermind

And what an appearance it was Lil Lou.

 

[English Lady]

“What the fuck was that?” I yell, my bottom stinging.

“That was what you deserve for being such a brat.” my husband replies, grasping my hand and pulling at me.

“Get of me!” I yell, scared and a little freaked out by my husbands sudden angry outburst. “Get your hands of me. Now.”

“No.” and with that he pulls harder and I find myself toppling on top of him. He is so much stronger than I. Big and chunky, someone to protect me. He’s never used his size against me like this before and as he manoeuvres me over his knees I have no way of stopping him.

“Mike. Stop it Mike. You’re scaring me. Please Stop it!” I beg but the silence remains.

One strong arm is holding my hand in the middle of my own back. I can wiggle but I can/’t really move. If I push too hard it hurts me. I feel his big strong fingers flicking up my short skirt and then I feel them rip down my panties, leaving them dangling between my knees.
“Mike!!!!” I scream not sure what else to say. My soft white cheeks are ablaze with indignation and embarrassment and my face is held in a disbelieving glare.

“I’ve had enough. You spend all my money on frivolous crap and when I ask you to cut back you totally ignore me. My credit card is totally maxed out and you don’t give a shit. Well since you act like an spoilt little brat you’re going to get treated like one.”

I don’t like the tone of his voice. Angry and upset. So very much unlike my sweet ,soft husband.

“I’m sorry,” I beg. More and more convinced I know what is coming next “I’ll be good, really good.”

“Bollocks!” he cries and his hand hits my buttocks with a crack “You need to be taught a lesson young lady!” three more heavy blows land in quick succession.

“I’m Sorry!” I scream it, my buttocks alive with tingling pain “I won’t do it again.”

“You sure as hell won’t be.” Mike growls, his hand falling once, twice and again each time hitting new parts of my tortured flesh and making me jump and squeal in his lap. Tears sting my eyes yet as the blows keep falling I become more and more aware of my open pussy. His hand keeps catching it, his fingers slide inside me and I know I am slick.

Fuck. I think this is turning me on.

 

[MisSpelling]

SPANK !

 

[Vincent E]

Is this what you are looking for?

It was not difficult for Claire to hold her position at first. She had placed her hands on the desk in front of her and spread her legs a shoulder’s width apart as he had instructed her. However, the longer she stood in this position with her legs locked, her bum stuck out, and her body arched the more she felt as if she were going to fall off balance. Balance in high heels is difficult under ideal circumstances, and even though she was braced over the table, she could not help feeling a sense of being off-balance every few minutes.

She maintained her position nonetheless. She kept her body arched in the sensually suggestive position that he had demanded of her, and she kept her bum jutted outward. From time to time she would feel a hand slide across the back of her body and around the curve of her butt. She could tell the differences by now. She had enough experience in that one day to be able to tell the difference between his firm hand giving itself a taste of her rump and that of his submissive.

The more tentative female hand that would occasionally caress her body was a welcome feeling only after he had administered discipline. She had felt the sting of a leather strap several times. Each session of discipline was little more than three or four swats of his belt, but each time he gave the strap a taste of her rump she began to flinch a little more than the last. His caress of her body was mere prelude to a firm slap or two with his bare hand. His submissive’s hands were more tender, and then lent a little of sympathy.

Claire stood in the provocative position and braced herself. She felt him standing behind her, and she could sense his hand coming up.

Swat!

She kept her legs locked.

Swat!

She was tempted to cry out, but did not.

Swat!

She faltered slightly. Claire knew that he was not going to like this.

Swat!

“Ouch,” she muttered.

“What was that?” he asked with a stern command in his voice.

“I’m sorry, but it hurt. It is beginning to hurt too much.”

“And exactly what is too much,” he demanded.

“It hurts. It stings,” she whined.

“I know it stings. It is a two-inch wide leather belt coming down across flesh covered by nothing more than a lacy, pink g-string. But what constitutes ‘too much’ as you put it?”

“It’s beginning to hurt more than earlier, when you first started,” she proffered.

“Sweetness,” he said, “I know it hurts more than before. That is the cumulative effect of several lashes to the backside. It is the culmination of repeated and continued whacks across the ass – in plain English. What I want you to tell me is what makes it ‘too much.’”

She stood there. She was tempted to cry, but she knew that she would not. Her tears would not move him. To the contrary, she knew that he would only grill her more and more on why she was crying, and what is the reason for faltering as she did. She had to answer his question. She knew that only a satisfactorily articulate answer would assuage his demanding nature.

“It is too much because I cannot stand it anymore.” She instantly wished that she could take that answer back, but it was too late.

“You are standing pretty well from where I am,” he replied sarcastically. “In fact you do not look like you are having any trouble standing at all. Does she?”

There was silence in the room, but she knew that his submissive was agreeing with him. She was well trained. She could give a nod or a smile and it satisfied his demand. His submissive was probably kneeling by his feet and smiling at him, knowing full well that he did not want her to verbalize. His question to her was merely rhetorical.

“Yes,” he continued. “I think that you are having no trouble standing at all.”

Swat!

Claire bit on her lip to hold back a cry.

Swat!

She pressed her fingers flat against the desk and strained her back to maintain position.

Swat!

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath through her nostrils. She braced herself for a fourth lash that did not come.

“You still seem to be standing pretty well. So, tell me why it is too much.”

Claire was lost for words. She did not even know if she could come up with any kind of answer that would seem as if she were trying. She just stood there braced against the desk and her body locked into the position.

He stepped behind her and caressed her bum with his hand. It was a warm hand, but it was not put there to reassure her. He caressed the side of her buttocks and the crease down the middle. He even gave her a little diddle of her clitoris as he teasingly drew his hand around the front of her body and dipped his finger between her legs.

Slap!

He whacked her with his other hand while diddling her.

“Any answers coming to mind yet. You said it is ‘too much,’ but you have yet to tell me what that means.”

Slap!

He pulled his finger away from her sex and continued to caress the warmed over flesh of her stinging backside. He tapped her cheek with his hand and then drew it up again.

Slap!

“I demand an answer.”

Slap!

“I expect an answer now.”

Slap!

“Give me an answer now, Claire. Give me an answer right now,” he angrily demanded.

“It…it’s too much because I don’t like it anymore,” she cried out.

“Wrong!”

Slap!

Another openhanded spank.

“Try again!” he ordered her.

“It is too much because it hurts too much.”

“Wrong!”

Slap!

“That is a redundancy,” he intoned. “Try again.”

“It’s too much because, because, be…I don’t know,” she sobbed. Tears began welling up in her eyes.

“I see I am going to get nowhere with you very fast. Subbie,” he turned to his submissive, “tend to Claire’s needs.”

“Yes sir,” she obeyed.

Tending to Claire’s needs was becoming the most pleasant part of the evening. Tending to Claire’s needs involved his submissive placing her soft hands against Claire’s reddened flesh and kissing it. It involved fluffing Claire’s clitoris and keeping her moist between her legs. Sometimes it involved licking her pussy. Other times it involved fondling her breasts.

“Mmmm,” Claire let out a sound of satisfaction that was being overridden by a feeling of reluctant pleasure. She was still emotionally uncertain as to whether or not she enjoyed being touched this intimately by another woman.

“It is okay, Claire,” the submissive whispered as she caressed Claire from behind. “Let me ease the stinging a little. Let me help you through this.”

She did. It did help. The tender ministrations of his submissive eased the sting of the belt and the slap of his hand. As she caressed Claire, the submissive whispered very quietly into Claire’s ear.

“He wants you to answer him eloquently and succinctly. He expects you to think things through. Your answer does not need to be a long philosophical treatise, it just needs to be…”

“Chloe!” he barked. “Are you giving her answers?”

Chloe knew she was in trouble. He only used her slave name when he was upset, otherwise he called her by her pet name: Subbie.

“No sir, but I was explaining to her what you expect. I would never give an answer.”

It was no lie. Chloe had been broken long ago, and now she served him perfectly. She would not dare cross him for fear of the ultimate punishment. It was a punishment that she shuddered to ever think of.

“Well then, what did you tell her?” he demanded.

“I merely told her that you expect her to think things through and give an intelligent answer.”

Claire could not see their exchange. She could not see the way his brow softened at her answer. He knew that she was telling the truth. Claire would have liked to see his face just then.

“Come here, pet,” he instructed his submissive. His voice was soft and gentle. Claire marveled at how quickly he could turn from barking orders to gentle reassurance.

“Kneel by my side, Subbie.”

Chloe complied and remained silent.

“She gives good advice, my pet does.” He stroked Chloe’s short auburn hair gently. “She is intelligent and articulate, and most importantly she knows what I expect. That is why she is my pet. But you, Claire, you are a different matter altogether.”

He rose from his seat, walked behind her, placed his hand on her shoulder, and whispered into her ear.

“You are my Sweetness, not my slave. I expect you to give a little and take a little, not to simply serve me. But right now I need you to give me an answer. You said that the discipline I was giving you was ‘too much.’ You have to define ‘too much’ for me. Tell me when it is ‘too much.’”

Claire could not come up with an answer.

“I don’t know,” she said through slight tears. “I just don’t know how to answer. I don’t know what you want.”

He stroked her shoulder and kissed her neck. Claire took in a deep breath as he now changed over to gentleness that she had not felt from him during the evening. He reached around her and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He kissed her back. He stroked her spine. She reveled in this momentary reprieve and smiled even as a residual tear rolled out of her eye and down her cheek.

He wrapped both hands around her body and placed them on her breasts. Then, with placid guidance, he raised her body from its position and pulled her back to his chest. They stood upright, and he squeezed her breasts and kissed her neck. She pressed her body into his. This was more pleasant.

In fact it was more pleasant because of his stern discipline. She enjoyed playful spankings and the slow lovemaking that often followed. But this spanking was more than he had ever applied. She had moments during the lashings when she regretting asking for more intense discipline. What she learned is that he would always give her what she asked for, so she needed to think out her requests and understand the consequences.

He kissed her neck and her shoulders. He playfully pinched her nipples. His left hand roamed down to her side where he gripped her hip and pulled her into his crotch. She felt the impression of his manhood. He was hard. He was large.

“Sweetness,” he whispered again. “Sweetness, please give me the answer. What is ‘too much?’ When is it ‘too much?’”

She paused. Perhaps the spanking was finished. Perhaps he was done disciplining her.

“Oh Sweetness,” she began, “I can’t think of a reason. Please don’t punish me any more.”

“It isn’t punishment. It is merely discipline. Do you really think this is bad? You should have seen how I broke Chloe.”

Claire pondered that for a moment. Perhaps she was getting off lightly. Claire turned her head slightly and saw Chloe from the corner of her eye.

“She will not move until I instruct her,” he said.

Claire realized that she was stuck. She couldn’t even spy on his submissive without his knowing it. She also knew that she would not be able to think of a satisfactory answer.

“I’m sorry, Sweetness. I can’t think of the answer. Please forgive me.” She asked for his forgiveness almost timidly.

“Shhh, Sweetness,” he reassured. “There is nothing to forgive. I’ll have Chloe give you the answer, okay.” He pinched her nipple.

“Okay,” she giggled. Claire realized that his attitude was softening. Maybe now she was going to receive some gentle lovemaking.

He pulled his body away from her and stepped to Chloe.

“Subbie.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered.

“Tell Claire when the discipline is ‘too much.’”

“Yes, sir. The discipline is too much when you want Sir to stop. And when you want Sir to stop he will leave and never come back. Never. Once Sir has left he will never return.”

These words gave Claire a cold chill all over her body. That was what ‘too much’ meant. As Chloe finished explaining the punishment that was too terrible to think of, Claire realized that she had better make a decision right then and there. Then he spoke.

“Claire, do you understand Chloe’s explanation?” he asked.

“I…I,” Claire stammered.

“Claire, do you understand?”

“Yes. Yes, I understand.”

“And do you know what this means?” he asked as he took up the strap in his hand once again.

“Yes, Sweetness. Yes, I understand.”

With that answer, Claire leaned back over the desk, placed her hands on it to brace herself, and arched her body in the provocative position he enjoyed seeing. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and spoke to him.

“I am sorry, Vincent. I was mistaken. It is not too much. It could never be too much.”

She did not see the smile cross his face. She did not see Chloe smile at the sight of her master’s happiness. Claire had made the decision. Even the harsh discipline that he inflicted was not too much to make her want him to stop; especially if that meant he would leave forever.

Swat!

“Thank-you, Sir. May I have another?"

 

[English Lady]

Vincent E -Wow! I feel veryhonoured to have that sexy bitof writing on my thread! Thank you! It grasped me and kept me intrigued all the way through

 

[Erlikkhan]

Here's a scene right out of one of my stories (Missy's Erotic Adventures) that I still think is highly erotic and involves spanking. I've shortened it a bit

Late for Class

Cum was seeping into her panties when Missy arrived at Mr. Smith's History class. Her nipples poked visibly through her blouse. Her lipstick was smeared and her hair was a mess. And she was late. Mr. Smith gave her a stern look.

"Missy, please see me when class is over."

After class Mr. Smith took her into the supply closet and pulled out a wooden paddle.

"Put your hands on the table and bend over."

Missy was embarrassed because when she bent over the short skirt pulled up over her panties soaked with cum. She screamed when the paddle cracked across her ass. She bent over further to brace herself. The paddle smacked her again.

On the third stroke something strange happened. Despite the pain, Missy's pussy started leaking and her nipples swelled. Her screams of pain turned to gasps of pleasure on the fourth and fifth stroke. She tilted her ass upward to receive the sixth stroke. The paddle cracked across her ass right where her pussy puffed out from between her legs. Missy screamed as her body stiffened and shook with a powerful orgasm.

Before she could catch her breath her panties were pulled to the side. Something big and hard poked against her dripping cunt. Mr. Smith split open her swollen peach and quickly shoved his fat cock deep into her belly in a single stroke. He grabbed her hips and fucked her hard and fast. Missy screamed as one orgasm after another ripped through her body.

"Oh god yes... fuck me... fuck me harder, Mr. Smith... aaaahhhhhhh..."

His balls slapped hard against her clit. Missy pushed back onto his cock trying to drive it deeper and deeper into her body. Mr. Smith reached around and squeezed her bulging tits and swollen nipples. Her screams became louder and louder.

"OOOHHHHHHHHH.... AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH...OOOOHHH FUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKK..."

Mr. Smith could no longer hold back. In one powerful thrust he drove his cock deep into her cunt and pumped hot thick cream into her pussy. Cum poured into her body until she could feel it leaking down her thighs along with her own juices of passion. He finally pulled out and made her clean him with her mouth. She licked and sucked his cum coated cock savoring their combined taste. That's when she heard the bell ring.

"It's a good thing I don't have a class this period, Missy, but I think you're already late."

 

[English Lady]

Erlikkhan- thanks for that. I've always been partial to a naughty schoolgirl story

 

[Erlikkhan]

Glad you liked it. I forgot the ending which also includes paddling.
Missy is, indeed, a very naughty girl!

"It's a good thing I don't have a class this period, Missy, but I think you're already late."

Missy walked into Miss Ryan's class with cum soaked panties. Her skirt was twisted and her top was ruffled. Missy was sent to see Mr. Johnson, the Vice Principal. He took out an even bigger paddle and told her to bend over his desk. She pulled up her skirt, tilted her ass in the air and spread her legs. Her pussy was already twitching in anticipation of the first stroke when he asked her to pull down her panties.

Missy had an orgasm on the fourth spank and again when Mr. Johnson shoved his massive cock into her pussy. He pounded her to two more orgasms before pumping her cunt full it's third load of cum in an hour. Then he made her suck him until he was hard and fucked her in the ass. She never did make it back to Miss Ryan's class.