fantasy

Red Riding Hood

red riding

The shrilling of the phone broke her train of thought. She was struggling to get going on her essay and another interruption was the last thing she needed. She glanced at the clock – jeez, 10pm already – who’s calling at this hour? She picked up the handset and frowned. “Why are TrustForce Alarms calling me?” she wondered. She stabbed the Talk button. “Hello, Rebekkah Redmoor, who’s calling?”

“Good evening Ms Redmoor. This is TrustForce Alarm monitoring service. We have an alert from Mrs Forsyth. We called her home but got no reply. This number is listed as our emergency contact.” The caller was polite and efficient.

“Yeah, that’s Grannie. Is there a problem? She’s probably asleep. Her alarm is always going off. What d’you want me to do?”

“Ms Redmoor, we require a positive confirmation of an incident before we can contact the police. We have had several false calls from this residence recently. Is there anyone able to investigate?”

“What? No. I’m here on my own. You want me to go out in the middle of the night to see if there’s an intruder before you send the police? No friggin’ way!”

“Miss Redmoor, excuse me for asking, but are you over the age of majority?”

“Yes, I’m 21”

“Well then we do require you to confirm the report. If we dispatch police to another false arlam then Ms Forsyth will be charged the cost and we will have to terminate her monitoring service. I’m sure that’s not what you would want for your Grandmother, is it?”  His tone had changed. Still polite, but now with an assertive, authoritative air like her father. “There is no need to put yourself in any danger Miss, but we do need to know this is not another false alert. If there is the slightest reason to suspect anything untoward you can call the police directly and avoid any confrontation.”

Reluctantly, Rebekkah said she would check, and hung up. She stood up from her desk and glanced outside. “Great,” she thought, “It’s snowing.” She considered her options. Grannie had no cell phone, and they said they’d already called the house. She could call her parents, but they would be seriously pissed. This was their anniversary and they had taken off for a romantic weekend, leaving her at home with the dogs. At 21 she was certainly more than capable, and they trusted her to deal with things responsibly. That came with the territory as a Redmoor.

With no alternatives, she trudged to the kitchen to winter-up, donning her red Canada Goose jacket, winter boots and gloves. She pulled a red toque over her curly auburn hair. She was about to step into the night when she felt eyes on her back. She turned to see Wolfie straing back at her, his white fangs catching the light as he panted in anticipation. “Might as well kill two birds,” she thought. She whistled to the hound. “Wolfie, come on.”

Together they headed out into the evening snowstorm. She tugged the fur collar tighter as a squall whipped shards of snow at her face. Wolfie didn’t seem to notice – to the Malamute this was like a summer’s day. Grannie’s home was behind her own home. It had always been her very own Hanzal and Gretel cottage in the woods. In summer she would cut through the back woods and pop out on Grannie’s doorstep, but in winter she took the longer route by road.

They trudged down the lane, passing the vacant lot being cleared for another new house. With her head down, she almost smacked into a truck parked opposite Grannie’s driveway. She cursed as she stomped past. Glancing inside she didn’t see anyone, just the typical junk of a forest worker’s truck – logs in the bed, chains hanging off the guard rails, the axe rack, empty, across the back window.

Reaching the house, Rebekkah saw that there was a dim light glowing behind the curtained room to the right – Grannie’s bedroom. “She’s in bed!” she muttered to herself, “Old biddy’s probably turned her hearing aid off.”

She stepped up to the door and tried the knob. She wasn’t surprised to find it open. She spoke under her breath. “One of these days, Grannie, there really will be an intruder back here. Can’t trust anyone today you know. Just lock the damn door!”

She opened the door and stepped inside, banging her boots clear of snow. She left Wolfie outside – the big dog would just shake as soon as he got indoors and she didn’t want to spend the rest of her evening cleaning up after him.

“Grannie, you awake?” Rebekkah called. She stepped towards the front bedroom.

No reply.

“You okay, Grannie? The alarm company called, said they couldn’t reach you,” Rebekkah called out.

A voice spoke, “Oh, you know,” the replying voice wavered. Grannie’s voice sounded hoarse – maybe she had a cold?

Rebekkah moved into the bedroom and reached for the light switch. Nothing happened. “Grannie, did a bulb go?”

A hand grabbed at her wrist and yanked her into the room. She was spun around so that her back was to her attacker. The man was strong, and smelt of wood and sweat. His encircling arms pinned her. She felt his breath on her neck. “My, what a pretty little thing we have here,” he breathed. He held her tight with one strong arm and slipped his free hand inside her coat. He grabbed a handful of her breast through her sweater, squeezing and groping her painfully. “Maybe not such a little girl either,” he breathed, continuing to maul her chest.

Rebekkah flicked the glove off her hand and smashed her nails into the back of his encircling hand. The shock was enough for him to release his grip enough for her to spin free. He grabbed her again, face to face this time. He forced her backwards, towards the bed. She felt the bed behind her knees. The certain knowledge of his intentions spurred her again, and she pushed back just enough to allow her to bring her knee up hard and fast, smashing into his groin. He roard and fell back. She kicked him this time, smashing her boot into his hands which were now clutching at his wounded pride. With him doubled over and temporarily incapacitated, she made her escape.

The man recovered quickly, protected somewhat by his woodcutter gear and the adrenaline coursing through him.  He stumbled after her and grabbed her just as she started down the steps from the porch. Pinning her once more, he snarled at her, “You like it rough? I’ll show you rough.” He lifted her bodily off her feet. As he turned her back into the house, he stopped. Standing between him and the door was a huge beast – it looked like a wolf. The animal bared its teeth and gave a guttural growl, then leapt at the man.

He dropped Rebekkah to fight off the beast. Wolfie sank his teeth into the man’s arm and shook him like a tug toy.

“Good boy, Wolfie. Hold him there,” said Rebekkah. She took Wolfie’s leash and quickly bound the woodcutter, hand and feet.

Rebekkah stared down at the restrained man. “Yeah, I like it rough, but I prefer bondage, and I like to be in charge. Now, where shall we begin?”

 

The Yellow Dress

Rob trudged around the mall lugging a small wardrobe full of bags as his daughter and wife strode on ahead, chattering happily as they spent his hard-earned money. He stopped to adjust his grip on the bags, trying to recover circulation to his fingers. “First trip home in three months,” he muttered, “and I have to spend my day trailing round the mall like a friggin’ pack horse. Fuck my life.” He glanced up to see his wife and daughter sashaying ahead. ‘Fuck my wife more like,’ he breathed, watching the sway of her hips, tightly encased in denim. It had far too long since he’d seen her on her knees waiting for him to take her from behind, or take her any ways for that matter.

He watched the pair sauntering along, arm in arm. It was getting harder to tell them apart from the back these days. At 17 he had to admit, young Meghan was developing some very attractive curves, and Susie was looking so hot in those tight blue jeans. He recalled how she’d been horrified at turning 40 last year. She’s hit the gym hard, spending almost every morning burning off the pounds and toning up while he worked his butt off on the rigs. If he could just get a taste of that ass he would be a happy man, but since he’d arrived home two days ago she had been early to bed complaining of a headache and her time of the month. He sneered to himself. “No sign of a headache now, that’s for sure. Retail therapy must sure be a thing then.”

Just then Susie turned back. “We’re popping into la vie complète. Meghan says they have some lovely summer dresses. Why don’t you pop over to the Apple Store or something? We might be a while. After that you can get me a latte. I’m pooped!”

“You’re pooped!” he snapped. “I’ve been away working for three months and now I get to carry my wages in your shopping bags. I must be carting a month’s wages right here.”

“Now don’t make a scene! If they’re too heavy for you, take them back to the car, poor little lamb,” Susie crooned back. “Stop putting a downer on our day by being such a party pooper. You know how I love getting some quality time with my little girl. Don’t spoil it!” With that she turned, tucked her arm into Meghan’s and strode into the expensive looking store.

Rob stalked back to the parking lot and threw the bags into the trunk. He stayed outside for a while, cooling off, then wandered back inside the mall. He stood outside la vie complète for a few minutes, and then peered inside trying to spy the girls, but he couldn’t see to the back. Eventually he stepped inside, feeling very conspicuous amongst the sheer gowns and underwear. He found some easy chairs next to the changing rooms and settled down to wait.

Rob whiled away some time admiring the lithe young bodies of the shoppers as they came and went from the changing rooms. One of the girls posed in front of a full-length mirror at the entrance, checking out the fit of her dress. When she stepped away, Rob noticed that she’d moved the mirror. He realised he now had a partial view down the length of the changing cubicles, thanks to a convenient reflection from another mirror at the corner. Mostly the curtains were all firmly drawn, so he amused himself watching pants falling beneath the doors, imagining the lacy lingerie that must be revealed inside each small space.

As he watched, he noticed one curtain that was partly open, right at the end. He caught brief glimpses inside as the occupant moved around. Suddenly, he saw her bottom revealed as she whipped her jeans down and off. As she turned he got the briefest glimpse of naked cheeks. ‘She’s wearing a thong,’ he thought. He also caught a glimpse of something else, too. What were those marks on her bum? They looked like lines. And then the view was gone as she stepped aside. When she was revealed again, she was wearing a long yellow dress with a sunflower pattern. He admired the swish against her tanned legs as she turned, then sat up straight again as she dropped the dress to her feet and stepped out. This time he got a clear three-quarter view of her bottom as she bent to retrieve the dress. And as she did so, he could clearly see several evenly spaced dark lines cutting across the pale flesh.

He gasped with the shock, hiding the sound with a fake cough. ‘Oh my jeezus,” he thought, “she’s been caned!’ His member stiffened up at the delicious sight and all it suggested, and then she was gone. He drifted into daydreams, imagining the scene that must have unfolded for the girl to get those stripes, stirring up memories from long ago when Susie used to lay across his lap for a spanking.

“Dad!” Meghan prodded him back to reality. “What are you doing? Come on, we’re leaving.” Rob stumbled to his feet, trying to adjust his underwear as he did so, and stumbled out of the store behind his wife and daughter.

******

The brief glimpse of that caned bottom played over and over in Rob’s mind over the next few days. He was constantly aware of the erection in his pants every time his mind drifted back to that momentary glimpse. He found himself sneaking to the bathroom, or his shed when his imagination stirred.

In his fantasy, the unknown girl was wearing the yellow dress. She would turn her back and bend, submitting herself to his will. He imagined lifting the dress slowly, revealing first her toned, smooth legs and then her taut buttocks clothed in the briefest lace. He loosened his pants and pulled out his cock as he settled into the fantasy.

He slipped his fingers into her waistband, and slid the knickers off her cheeks and down to her feet. He could sense the bounce of her cheeks as he palmed them, and the sight of her tight hole revealed deep in the cleft. He imagined it was he who then applied twelve hard, slow stripes to her cheeks. Afterwards, with her still bent, he would step behind her to paint the red stripes with the juice seeping from his hard cock. With his orgasm mounting he imagined sliding his cock deep into her tight, young cunt, gasping as his release came. The fantasy helped reduce his frustration at Susie’s coincidental ‘time of the month’. Every night for a week she’d gone to bed in PJs, and he’d had not even a glimpse of her toned body since he’d arrived home.

******

A few days after the shopping trip, Rob was sitting in the living room watching TV when he heard Meghan coming downstairs. She called out to him from the stairs. “Bye Dad, I’m off out. Dave’s picking me up. See you later.” As he turned to say goodbye he caught the briefest glimpse of her as she stepped out of the door, and the long yellow gown decorated with sunflowers floating around her legs.

Sophie’s Choice

e771a-office2botk

“Damn this report!” James cursed, pushing himself away from the desk. He slumped back in his chair, staring malevolently at the silent, blinking cursor still placed at the end of the first paragraph. He had written and deleted those opening words a dozen times already. He stabbed at the delete key and his words disappeared, leaving a blank page once more.

He knew company policy required him to write up Sophie for her performance issues. As her manager if he didn’t deal with her tardiness and failure to deliver to deadlines, he himself would be under review. The trouble was, she was a great worker when she put her mind to it, but just lately things had been slipping, understandably so after her husband walked out on her after 8 years of marriage. James did feel for Sophie, had a bit of a soft spot for her really – or more often a hard spot, especially when she wore those figure hugging skirts and heels. They flirted mildly for sure. More than once he’d gone almost too far with his comments. One time he told her she would make a great secretary fantasy, all bookish with her hair up and glasses, or the many times he had been mock stern over a minor transgression, suggesting there could be firm consequences for a naughty girl. He often imagined bending her over his desk, lifting her skirt over her back and easing her knickers down to her knees for a nice, firm bottom warming, followed of course by a good long fuck from behind.

James shifted uncomfortably as his cock rose to join the party in his mind. He glanced around, making sure no-one was looking into his glass-walled office. Seeing the coast was clear he shoved a hand into his waistband to release his rapidly stiffening shaft from the knot in his underwear. He squeezed himself as he did so and rubbed the leaking juices around his cock head as he allowed his mind to develop the details of his little fantasy.

He decided he would ask her to stay late one evening, so they had the office to themselves. He would call her in, and lay out the issue of her attendance and poor work performance over recent weeks. He would have her sit, and he would stand in front of her – no, he would just lean on the desk, in front of her so they were close, but a bit more casual. He would be sympathetic, maybe even reaching out and touching her arm, but he would be firm that he had responsibilities. Of course he would lay out the consequences, including the likelihood that she could be fired. And once he had her suitably worried, he would hint that he could go out on a limb, put his own position at risk just this once if he could be sure she would turn over a new leaf. She would assure him, of course, but he would press the point that he could not be sure she would change, unless the transgression carried some firm consequence..

“Surely we can work something out,” she would implore, tears in her eyes.

“Well I don’t know, Sophie,” James would say, “My hands are really tied. If I’m to risk my own position I need to be totally assured you will fix this problem, once and for all. Actions must have consequences, otherwise nothing changes.” And then the springing of the trap – “You know, this lateness and petty underperformance is really childish. The sort of thing the old short, sharp shock would have cured back in the day, I’m sure. But sadly those measures are out of the question today.”

And then Sophie would look up at him, confused but curious. He could almost see the cogs turning in her mind, perhaps recalling their flirty innuendo. “My ex said as much,” she would say, haltingly. “He said ‘actions speak louder than words’. Said we should have brought our issues out into the open, dealt with them in the old-fashioned ways. I never took him seriously, and Chris was not someone to be forthright about his intent so it never went any further – and now look at us.”

James would push a little harder at the opening door. “Sometimes we all need to see the error of our ways, and sometimes some old-fashioned discipline might avoid more serious consequences. That could be an option for us, keep this out of HRs hands.”

And then she would utter the magic words, “Would you do that James? Would you … punish me, for my bad behaviour? Would that be enough to let us put this behind us?” and as she spoke she would reach out and rest a hand just a little too high on his thigh.

James would want to appear resistant to the idea, cautiously testing out the ground ahead of him. “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt you – but then a punishment needs to be hard enough to act as a deterrent. And it would have to be kept as our secret of course, otherwise we would both be fired.”

James continued to squeeze and stroke his trapped erection as the fantasy took hold. He scooted his chair closer to the desk to avoid being seen and resumed his mental planning.

They would skirt around the edges a little more, neither wanting to say the words. Finally James said that if Sophie was sure, she should ask for punishment properly so there was no question of duress. So she would look into his eyes, take his hand and say, “James, I’ve been a very naughty, silly girl and I deserve to be spanked. Would you please teach me a lesson I won’t quickly forget? Please put me over your knee like a naughty girl and spank me so hard I can’t sit down for a week!”

James’s cock was painfully hard now, and the urge to cum was overwhelming. He pulled his hand out of his waistband, unzipped under cover of the desk and pulled his cock free. His shaft stood tall and he was able to stroke himself more freely, using his free-flowing pre-cum as a lubricant.

He imagined bending Sophie over his knee and stroking her firm, round bottom through the light summer dress. Once she was in position he would tell her all naughty girls had to be spanked on the bare. She would protest enough to make a show, but offer no resistance as he drew up the skirt to reveal stocking tops and cream, silky knickers. He would slide her knickers down to her knees, revealing the wonderful sight of her twin moons bisected by the deep crevasse hiding her bum hole. He would adjust her position so that her bum was positioned nice and high. She would spread her feet to steady herself, opening her cheeks as she did and giving him a tantalising glimpse of her bum hole, and a glorious view of her pussy beneath. He imagined she would be neatly trimmed – not bare. He would stroke her buttocks, testing the resiliency before spanking her with firm strokes to warm her up. As they got going, he would make his spanks harder until there was a definite pinkness to her cheeks. He imagined he would see her arousal growing despite her protests, and at that prompt he would spank her harder to bring her colour to a deeper hue.

James slowed his stroking, eager to play out his story to the end before shooting his load. He mentally moved Sophie off his knee and over the desk.

She would willingly dip her back as she bent forward across the desk, opening her cleft and lewdly displaying her moistening pussy. He would have her spread her feet wider to give him a clear view of her wrinkled sphincter, her pussy lips swelling and parting with excitement. He imagined pulling her cheeks apart so that her bumhole was stretched open and beneath, her wet and open pussy lips revealed her full arousal. James would stroke and fondle her cheeks, wetting a finger in her juicy cunt before dragging a finger up her cleft to probe her anus. He would then pull his belt from his pants and double the strap in his hand. He mentally brought the strap down square across her cheeks and he imagined her gasp, before she thrust her bottom back for more. He kept mentally whipping her until he felt his orgasm was too close to hold back. As his orgasm built he imagined grasping her red, sore bum cheeks and sliding his hot, hard length deep inside her willing pussy. He fucked her hard and fast as his hand pumped under the desk until he shot his load with a cry. Suddenly conscious of his location, he glanced around the office to see a couple of curious faces looking his way, wondering no doubt what the noise was about. He ducked behind his computer screen and grabbed some tissues from the box on his desk to clean up.

Sated now, he took another look at the blank screen before him, before turning to pick up his phone. His call was answered after a couple of rings.

“Ah, Sophie, there’s something we need to discuss. Would you be able to stay a little late tonight?”

Initiation

Later that evening, Carla and Sammi were sitting with a glass of wine, enjoying the quiet after the pressures of the day. Sammi turned to Carla, “So, did you think any more about young Dominic’s initiation?”

Carla lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes, imagining the possibilities for Dominic’s initiation. She smiled as she thought of his delicious, chocolate brown bum bent to her will. She recalled her first introduction to him, when she had licked his balls as he fucked Sammi. His balls had hung low and heavy and she licked her lips as she recalled their firmness in her mouth, and the taste of his shaft, wet with Sammi’s juices.

She imagined Dominic on his knees, bum high and legs spread. She would reach between his legs and fondle his cock and ball-sac, maybe finger-fuck his arse as she did so. And then she would spank him. A long, delicious, hard, slow and very thorough spanking. And throughout she would finger and fondle his thick shaft to keep him hard. She would use his own juices to lubricate his cock-head and drive him absolutely wild by rapidly rubbing his cock tip with her palm. She would tease and tug his balls, keeping him just on the edge of pain yet desperate for more. Maybe she would use her dildo to fuck his bum between spankings, gently thrusting past his inevitable resistance until she could slide the thick shaft in and out of his tight brown hole. And then the spanking, oh yes! The spanking. She would start with her hairbrush, the wooden one with the broad, thick back. This would really warm his cheeks. She knew she could break him with just the brush if she chose, but she had more in store. She wanted to crop him too. Her favourite crop had a broad, flat circle of stiff leather at the tip that would lay on a rapid fire stinging all over his cheeks. She would use the crop to slap his bum-hole too, stretched and sore from the dildo fucking. And then she would use the strap, of course. She owed him a good, hard thrashing to pay-back for the bruised cheeks she still had. He would have to take at least 20 of her best since he gave her close to that number without a warm-up.

And then she would flip him over and sit on his face so he could thank her properly for his whipped bum and well-fucked arse. She would enjoy tasting his shaft once more as he serviced her to keep him good and ready for when she crawled down his body and slid his length into her wet, willing and ready cunt. And then she would grind her pussy down his shaft, taking every inch as his length. And then she would slide slowly, slowly up until his tip hovered at the outer rim of her pussy, so she could slide down him like a pole dancer. And with every thrust, she would thrust her buttocks out, giving him a front row view of the buttocks he bruised and her anus, puckering fluttering in time with the pressure inside her sheath. He would see her lips clinging to his shaft as she climbed, and then clinging to him as she sank back down, slamming to his root. She would squeeze and grasp his bollocks as she rode him hard to her orgasm. And as soon as she came, she would slide his still-hard cock out of her tight sheath and leave him standing tall, twitching and deserate. And then he would know that his purpose was to serve at her pleasure, NOT his.

Carla turned her head to Sammi. “Didn’t give it another thought, You?”

***************

And that was I for the A to Z Challenge. This story is gaining its own life. I’m really looking forward to seeing what Carla, Sammi and Dominic get up to from here! I do think Dominic will be living some of my fantasies, so if you have any of your own you would like to live through Carla, Sammi or Dominic, just let me know. I’m here to please 🙂

 

If you are late to the party, the story started here.

 

Into the Woods pt 1

Adam ambled along the wooded path enjoying the summer sun and revelling in the peace and quiet. He relished this Sunday morning escape from the hustle and bustle of life at home. He was ostensibly out to fetch the paper but he always liked to take the long route on nice days. It gave him a chance to escape the madness of a house with three small children and a wife who barely had the energy to function, let alone fuck.

Peace and quiet had been in short supply in the Woods household ever since the arrival of their first-born, Nate. It became positively extinct just a year later when the twins were born. Three was never in the plans. Adam recalled the day Maggie had phoned him at work with news of her pregnancy, and then the bombshell announcement of twins at the first scan. The thought of three kids all within a year hit him square in the face, though it might as well have been a kick in the balls. He’d had virtually no use for them for the last year. Their sex life had gone from fizzing to flatlined throughout Maggie’s pregnancy with the twins, and for six months afterwards. Now, with the twins almost a year old and Nate approaching two, there was barely a moment to sleep, let alone fuck. What sex they had now was quick, basic and frankly, boring. He wasn’t ungrateful – how could a man be ungrateful to have kids in his life, but he did miss the bedroom adventures he and Maggie enjoyed before the kids. Adam stopped and thought. When was the last time Maggie had blown him? He couldn’t remember. Certainly she had not wanted his face anywhere near her pussy in a year or more. He tried to recall when he’d last actually seen her with her thighs spread wide and her sex gaping for his cock. He shook his head to remove the vision of her feet up in stirrups, and focused instead on earlier times.

As he wandered along, Adam thought back to sex before kids. Maggie had always been an initiator. Her favourite technique when she wanted his dick was to be waiting, kneeling on all fours with knees spread. One time she had been in the living room and she had positioned herself so that the first thing he saw as he entered the room was her wet, willing cunt. Sometimes she’d be using a vibrator, sliding slowly in and out of her juicy slit. He smiled as he recalled what she’d be saying.

“Better get in here big boy, if you want a piece of this action. I’m getting close!”

At that he would drop down behind her and push his face into her wetness, tongue thrusting like a little dick. She loved to be licked out from behind, and she would push back against his face as he lapped. The thought of gripping her butt cheeks and tonguing her cleft, bum and pussy had his cock raging instantly. Adam had to push a hand into his shorts to free his cock from the knot in his pants. He squeezed himself, rubbing the clear, sticky fluid around his glans and continued to play the porn reel in his mind.

Maggie had loved to kneel on the edge of the bed so that Adam could kneel on the floor behind her, his face level with her wet, juicy, welcoming pussy. He could almost taste the bitter-sweet juices on his tongue and the tang of her anus as he rimmed her. His tongue poked out as he recalled jabbing it past the defensive ring of muscle, lubricating her back passage for a finger or thumb. They’d never got as far as actual anal sex, though he’d tried to convince her many times. Once when they’d been spooning he’d been pressing his cock head against her anus, lubricated with cunt and cock juices. She’d shifted somehow and he had popped past the tight ring to that his cock head was inside her passage. Before he knew it though, she had quickly shifted forward and his cock was ejected from her bum. He had lived with that almost-but-not quite experience for many years, extending the moment into a full-on arse fuck. He began to imagine again how it would go. His erection was painfully hard as he imagined standing behind Maggie, then pressing his cockhead against her anus. He could almost feel the tightness around his shaft as her bum stretched to welcome his hardness. He would fuck her then, slowly drilling his cock deep into her passage, then withdrawing part way as she moaned and thrust back against him.

The images in his mind increased the urgency he felt in his pants. He squeezed his cock again through the cotton shorts, but this just made things worse. He had to relieve himself. He looked around and spotted a narrow trail off the main path and ducked down it to find some privacy. A short way down he found a small clearing. He quickly unzipped and freed his cock, and began to stroke himself slowly as he continued his personal porn reel. He imagined Maggie sucking his balls, popping each into her mouth and gently tonguing him. He needed more freedom, so he quickly stripped off his jacket and dropped it on the grass. He dropped his shorts and pants, sat on his jacket and leaned back against a tree. Now he had both hands free to fondle balls and shaft together.

He went back to the image of Maggie on all fours. He’d spanked Maggie a few times, nothing too hard, but now he wanted to really spank her to release some of the pent-up frustration he felt. He reset his mental image and had her on her knees again, bum high in the air. He could feel the smoothness of her buttocks as he stroked her, preparing for the first strike, then SMACK, SMACK. Two spanks hard enough to leave red imprints. She’d moan and thrust out for more and he would spank her milky cheeks again and again, turning the pristine flesh pink. She would be moaning, writhing and bucking with each firm spank, egging hom on to spank her more, harder. He would spank the sensitive flesh of her bum cleft too, stinging the tight ring with sharp slaps as Maggie fingered her pussy, grazing her clit with a manicured nail then finger-fucking herself in time with his spanks.

Adam’s hand stroked up and down, surrounding his cock head then sliding right down to cup his balls as he played his personal movie. He coul hear Maggie urging him on, “Fuck, spank me harder, hit me again, aggghh, fuck, you bastard. Keep going, keep going!” Adam stroked himself up and down, squeezing his balls in time with his imagined spanks. He increasing his pace in time with his imagined spanking of Maggie and her thrusting fingers as his excitement rose.

She would dirty-talk him to drive him insane, his cock twitching and dripping as he spanked her until his hand stung. Her cheeks were red and blotchy, her bum hole pulsating with each stinging slap. She urged him on again, “Spank my pussy, fuck! You bastard! Spank my pussy NOW!”

He squeezed his eyes tightly to keep the image clear in his mind and he pictured himself spanking her mound with a cupped hand, four, five times as her orgasm built to a crescendo. With his left hand he gently rolled and squeezed his balls as his right hand continued to pump, more swiftly now in time with his pussy spanking. He felt the spunk rising and he forced himself to slow, enjoy the agony as his orgasm built. His whole body went rigid as his cock stiffened still more for those delicious seconds as the spunk shot up from his balls, along his shaft and erupted in a geyser from his glans. He shuddered and gently stroked the last of the cum from his shaft, and lay back against the tree trunk, enjoying the aftermath of a very enjoyable wank. The warm sun and lack of sleep soon had him dozing.

As he dozed he could feel Maggie playing with his cock, trying to entice life back into the slumbering beast. He moaned at her to stop, to let him rest. He felt a sharp prod in his balls and his eyes shot open. The bright sunlight temporarily blinded him, and he was momentarily confused to find himself outdoors. As his eyes adjusted he looked up to see two women standing over him. The younger one had her phone pointed at him and he heard the shutter sound as she took a picture of his exposed, flaccid cock. The older woman standing next to her poked his flaccid manhood with her walking stick. Adam quickly covered his nakedness with his hands. The older woman smacked his fingers sharply with her stick and he pulled his hands back in surprise.

“See what all the fuss is about, Amanda?” the older woman asked her colleague as she lifted Adam’s tackle with her stick. She sighed, “I’ve never understood boys and their urges. Back when I was a Head Mistress I would hear every day about boys showing their little dicks to the girls. And every day would end in tears.” She looked at her colleague and smiled, “They never seemed that keen to drop their trousers in my office, I can tell you my dear. And after they;d spent 20 minutes over my knee, I’m sure they thought twice about waving their parts around in public. Shame they stopped that sort of thing in my opinion. Look at the result.” With that she pointed her stick at Adam’s manhood again and he shrank back against the tree. “Did you get a good picture of him exposing himself dear?”

Amanda was staring lustfully at Adam’s penis and she started at the question. “Yes, yes I did, aunt Grace,” she stammered. ” I got some film of him wanking off too. Really good film.” She sighed at the thought of the graphic images waiting for her in the quiet of her room later.

“Amanda! Language please. Now, what to do with this young chap. We can’t have young men lying around with no trousers, playing with their bits and pieces whenever they feel the urge. I wonder if we should call the police. What do you think, Amanda?”

Amanda looked Adam up and down, and her eyes rested once more on his groin. “Oh, I think we can probably deal with this ourselves Aunty. After all, as you said, you had a sure-fire way to stop naughty boys waving their privates at the girls. I’m sure we could employ the same solution with this chap.” She stooped down and snatched up Adam’s shorts. She pulled his wallet out and fished for his driver’s licence, “Mr Adam Woods.”

Adam looked up at the pair beseechingly. What would happen now? They had his clothes, they knew his name, they had pictures. He’d lose his job if this got out, not to mention Maggie, the kids, his friends. He tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come.

To be continued ….

A Curious Thought

1-scarlet

A curious thought just occurred to me

As I bent you gently over my knee

Adjusting your lie to set your bum just so

To delightfully build that heartwarming glow

*

That thought, the one that occurred just now

That whittered away and furrowed my brow

Was the curious state that leads us here

With you bent so and exposing your rear

*

How it is as adults we just want our bottoms spanked

And afterwards, we’re on knees to give thanks

Yet not long ago, when we were small fry

We did all we could to avoid catching the eye

*

Of teachers so strict they would beat the whole class

(I got slippered one time, for answering back)

And parents, when told of our need to atone

Would whup us again to drive the point home

*

Yet now we are grown, well, in years at least

We spank one another to satiate the Beast

And great pleasure we get from a stinging red rear

No threatened strapping can fill us with fear

*

I can spank you with slipper, with hand or with crop

And I know you will beg me never to stop

And when your bottom is delightfully pink

And your pussy is dripping and it’s hard to think

*

You will drop to your knees to worship my cock

With lip-smacking pleasure as you gobble the top

And shove your tongue into the pleasure slit

And beg of the same when I lap at your clit

*

And when it’s my turn to offer my bum

When you beat me with vigour like you’re beating a drum

My manhood will rise to its magnificent size

And you will grasp it and squeeze it like you’ve won the prize

*

And you’ll sit on my shaft and drill yourself down

Like a queen on her throne and wearing her crown

And then ride to the races at a vigorous trot

Til your pussy is screaming and your nerves are all shot

*

And you quiver and shudder and scream to the sky

“Oh fuck! Yes, I’m coming, I’m going to die!”

So I try to control your wild bronco bucking

As I jerk up my hips to finish the fucking

*

Just trying to finish and let go both barrels

Without snapping my dick (it’s one of life’s perils)

And I’m frantically stabbing my dick in your nest

When you collapse in a heap on my heaving chest

*

Oh my, I’m so sorry. I got carried away

With thoughts of our spanking and fucking and play

Now what was I saying, Oh yes, I recall

How adults love a sore bum better than all

*

So I give thanks to the strangeness that makes us desire

As adults, the spanking that stokes at our fire

When as kids we would run with abhorrent fear

When threatened with a whupping to light up our rear

Writer’s Block

image

Rudi had struggled all day to conjure up a half-decent premise of a story to support the spanking scene he so desperately wanted to write. The words just wouldn’t come. In this day of computers and word processing, he didn’t even have a waste basket full of screwed up drafts to show for a day’s work. Just a blank white screen and a flashing cursor.

In frustration, he kicked back from the desk and scooted across the wooden floor. The chair bumped to a stop against the bookcase. A single book was jarred forwards on the shelf by the slight impact. The red leather was aged and cracked. Rudi reached out and took the book down. He turned it over in his hands, intrigued. He had built this library himself over the years, yet he didn’t recognise this book. He checked the spine and saw the title. ‘101 solutions for writer’s block’. He lifted the cover and the book opened to a middle page filled with tightly spaced words and a pen and ink illustration of a study, just like his own. But as he stared to read the words the type swam and danced on the page, then lifted off in a grey cloud. The type reformed itself into the shape of a woman, and she spoke.

“I wondered when you might call on me. I’ve been sitting in that book for years now.”

She spoke with a haunting lilt, not distinct to any place but with subtle undertones of foreign parts. Rudi looked at her features, but found he could not focus on her face. Instead he could make out an indistinct beauty, like a photo with a gauze filter too strongly applied. He sensed a melancholy to this figure. He spoke. “Who are you?”

Rudi saw her features swim into the face of a seductress, blonde hair coiffured and set above alabaster skin and ruby red lips. “Why darling,” she crooned, “Don’t you know me?” She lifted a finger to her lips in an exaggerated pout. “I’m your muse. I’m here to top up your tank and get your juices flowing. If I’m doing this right, I hope I can get the ink positively gushing from your nib.” As she spoke, she leaned into him and he felt – no, sensed – her fingers drag up his thigh and flutter around his groin. She sat on his lap, causing the chair to rock backwards. Rudi’s legs kicked up as he fought for balance.

“Oops! Naughty me!” She giggled and shook her head, transforming into a schoolgirl fantasy complete with pigtail braids, too-tight white blouse and micro-short pleated skirt. “Looks like I’ve been naughty. Should I be punished?” She stood, spun and transformed again, this time into a leather clad dominatrix with black hair and blacker make-up. “Or maybe you need to be punished for being such a slacker!” she roared, and lashed her crop across his thighs. He didn’t feel the impact, but he felt the white hot line of fire it left behind, and shrieked.

“Whoa, wait, what the fuck …”

The dominatrix shivered and morphed into a smaller, woman with short dark hair and an apron. Rudi recognised his mother but as she was when he was a boy. “Don’t let me hear that language young man!” she scolded. “I’ve a good mind to wash out your mouth and give you a good hiding!” He suddenly tasted the froth and bitterness of Camay and felt himself upended and across her knees. Somehow his pants and underwear were around his ankles and his bare bottom was being soundly spanked. And then just as suddenly, he was sitting on the hard floor, red cheeks stinging and sporting a very solid erection. He covered himself with his hands, embarrassed by his physical reaction to the harsh whacking. He looked up into his mother’s eyes, but she was gone, replaced by a young man, naked, gistening and very excited.

“No need to be shy, that’s just what I wanted to see,” he said, his erection bobbed as he stepped forward, bending to reach for Rudi’s manhood. He shot up and away, back pressed firmly to the bookcase. “Whoa, that’s not where this is going. Where are the girls?”

“We’re all in here,” said the guy, tapping Rudi’s head. “You just need to let us play. Then you can get back to your writing.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember the gay fantasy.”

“Don’t you?” the guy winked. “Maybe not this time …” and with a spin he was gone. The girl before him now wore a business suit, dark hair cropped into a short bob. She held a sheaf of paper.

“Rudi. This is the product of two weeks work. I am at the end of my tether with you. Do you think it sufficient for a man of your obvious talent?” She thrust the pile of papers in his face, seemingly totally unaware of his nakedness and rapidly deflating penis.

“Erm, I, erm.”

“Tongue tied as well as ink-blocked, obviously. I think we can deal with both in one go. Over here.”

Rudi found himself bent across his desk. His feet were spread wide and tied tightly, spreading his buttocks. His face was buried between the thighs of this business woman, pressed tight into her naked crotch.

“Now, this will free up your tongue, and we will deal with your other blockage in the time old fashion. Now lick!” At the command, Rudi felt a sharp line of fire light up his buttocks from what could only be a cane stroke. His head jerked up as he cried out, and was quickly thrust back down. “You don’t stop until I say, and she doesn’t stop until I come.” She allowed Rudi to glance backwards, and he saw the dominatrix grinning as she swung the cane high and slashed his cheeks again. Rudi buried his head, licking and sucking furiously at the honeypot before him as he felt his bum being lashed again and again. And then there was another sensation as he felt his cock grow harder and harder. Someone was sucking him off under the desk as he was being whipped. Rudi desperately fought to push the vision of the naked man from his mind and replaced him with the seductress. Yes, he could clearly imagine those ruby lips wrapped around his shaft, sucking and nibbling, gently mouthing his balls and taking his shaft deep into her mouth until … ahhhh.

At that moment, the business woman tensed and squeezed her thighs so tightly on his face so that his ears rang, then she slumped backwards on the desk. Rudi’s feet were free and he was able to stand. He looked down at the blonde head at his groin and breathed a sigh of relief.

The women looked his way, dreamily. “Now, what was the storyline you needed our help with?”