My lady and I were familiar with consensual B & D and had already worked out several code words, we also went a step further and wrote scenes for each other, so that when we’re in the mood, we could call up the scene rather than try to explain it or coach someone through it. Sometimes we did a scene to please each other sometimes we asked for a scene because we were in a specific mood. So it was that I got an e-mail at work, which would appear innocent to the casual observer, but indicated to me that she wanted to do a specific spanking scene that evening.
When I arrived at the house I found her straightening up the living room, wearing 4” high-heeled platform shoes and a hot blue mini-dress. “I got off work early so I called the TV shop and had them come out to finish repairing the big screen,” she said.
“Oh, so did they send that young guy you were so hot for last time?” I asked. She kind of giggled and looked away. “So that’s the real reason for the micro-dress and heels, flirting…… or more?” I asked. “I just can’t resist turning them on,” she said, “besides it gets me so hot to see the bulge in their pants.” “We’ve discussed this before,” I said, “you know that it is 20 whacks on your bare bottom for flirting when I’m not around.” “Ohhhh noooo, come on I was just having fun, wasn’t like I was sucking his dick or anything, pleasssssse, nnnnoooo,” she whined. I sat down on the sofa and motioned her over, she walked up hesitantly, looking so slutty in those shoes; I grabbed her left hand and pulled her down across my lap. “Nooo, pllllease, I didn’t even bend over a whole lot of times,” she protested. Of course I knew that she really meant the exact opposite, as I pulled up the hem of her dress to expose her creamy backside. “No panties!” I roared, “now in addition to the hand you’re going to get the belt!” “No I didn’t do anything no, no, no,” she whined again. “Yes, yes, yes, and we’ll start by counting 20 from my hand,” I said as I landed the first stinging swat on her bottom . “Oww 1,” she squealed, “owww 2, stop it hurts!” “That is the whole point of punishment you little crybaby,” I said and landed number three and four squarely on her bottom. The more she wiggled the more her bottom came out from under the dress, she kicked her lace topped, thigh-high covered legs up and down and squealed as she counted out each number. Eventually, we reached 20, her dress was bunched up under her 34C breasts and her buttocks were a nice pink. “I’m sorry, let me make it up to you,” she said as she slid to her knees on the floor in front of me, and reached up to unbuckle my belt and undo my pants. I arched my body up to let her pull my pants down, she took off my shoes and took the pants completely off, and she then leaned forward putting her chest between my knees and dropping her mouth over my cock, slowly sucking it into her mouth as it enlarged with her touch. “Mmmmmmmmmmmm, nice,” I said softly, “ but you know the rules, and you are not getting out of your lashes,”. She lifted her head and looked imploringly at me, “but please it was just for fun.” “No panties flirting is punishable by up to 40 lashes,” I reminded her, both of us knowing full well that the lashes would come from a wide, suede leather, belt that made a loud slap, yet with a very mild sting.
