Three Spanking Novellas

Joanna’s Escapades-2

She shivered.

Miles led her down a wooded forest path, into the heart of the city park’s wilds. He held her firmly so she wouldn’t stumble on the crude trail. It was difficult to negotiate the footpath in her four inch high heels. The scenario reminded her distinctly of being taken to the woodshed, a favorite image of her spanking fantasy. But there was no woodshed waiting for her at the end of the trail. Instead, they reached a lovely glade where grass grew perfectly on the hillside. The little haven was planted with flowers and shrubs that were well groomed by some gardener. A large hedge surrounded the glen, and Miles led her around it on a narrow path until they were in a tiny nook surrounded by the dense cool foliage. There was a stone bench hidden among the wild growth. As far as Joanna could tell, the place was deserted. What an inspired choice! She wondered how he’d found it.

“Sit down,” he instructed her. “On your naked ass,” he added.

She pulled up the skirt again and sat, as Miles stood over her.

“Open your legs,” he ordered, staring down at her.

She opened them wide, so wide her skirt was bunched around her waist, and the triangle of her lovely mound, her soft inner thighs and the purple pink of her opening were bared for his view. He could see the tiny gold ring above the hood of her clit, glistening in the dim sunlight that filtered through the leafy canopy of trees. A small charm with his initials dangled from the ring, which was meant to tickle her c******s when she walked, and it did just that.

As Joanna looked up at him, familiar little tingles of fear and thrill raced through her.

He held the leather strap in his fist, an ominous reminder of what was to come. It was a rugged implement, that had blistered her bottom at least a dozen times in the last several years; though it was by no means the only instrument he’d laid on her ass. He’d used his hand many times, a wooden ruler, a wooden paddle, as well as an assortment of flogging whips, some of butter soft deer skin that sounded furious, but hardly caused her to wince with pain, others that dug much deeper, painfully cutting their way into her skin leaving marks that lasted for day. They both had a fascination for macabre instruments, and the effect they had on her tender flesh.

Being Mile’s submissive was an uncommon experience. Their passion for these dramas satisfied them both immeasurably.

The anticipation mounting in her, she couldn’t wait for her punishment to begin. It had been three weeks since their last nasty adventure, and she missed his cold stare, his sharp tongued orders, the frightening implements, the build up and the deed itself. She missed the aftermath, that glorious heat on her well disciplined rear. Three weeks before he’d blistered her bottom in the limo as they were driving towards their weekend hideaway. All of a sudden he’d pulled a small wooden paddle from his briefcase and taken her over his lap. The spanking was severe, punishing her once again for her sharped- tongued retorts. That time, the limo driver couldn’t see, since the screen was up, but no doubt he’d heard her cries. By the expression on his face when he later helped her with her bags, he’d gotten quite a kick from her distress.

Now, submissively looking up at Miles for direction, she wondered what this adventure would bring.

“Put your hands behind you on the bench,” he ordered.

Joanna leaned back on her extended arms. It exposed her s*x even more. The thought that someone might at that moment walk around the barrier that secluded them and see her vulnerably exposed, made her tremble all the more. A little piece of her almost hoped it would happen.

Miles raised the strap and cracked the leather sharply against her inner thigh.

“Oh god,” she gasped in pain.

“Quiet,” he ordered.

He reared back and cracked the leather against the other thigh.

“Oooo,” she seethed under her breath. The sharp cutting pain was already difficult to bear. She watched the red marks rise instantly, afraid he would continue there. It was a horrible place to be whipped.

“Stand up,” he instructed.

Breathing a sign of relief, she rose to await his further command. Though rather than instructing her, he guided her, bending her over at the waist so her hands were resting on the stone she’d just warmed with her rear.

He pushed her skirt up so it was completely out of the way, her naked posterior presented for his admiring eye. He liked to look it over thoroughly before the instrument struck; he considered it an art punishing a submissive bottom. Joanna’s was by far the most satisfying rear he’d reddened. Maybe she had a gift for being submissive. She always fought him just a little, but once she’d struck the pose, every ounce of her consciousness was absorbed in the act of being his, to have and do with as he pleased. He’d taught her that over their many sessions; she’d learned well and they were both gratified by the results.

“You deserve this, little b***h,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” she answered.

“A smart mouth and a sassy bottom will get you punished.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I would think you asked for it, this time,” he charged. “Is that so?”

“Perhaps, Miles,” she replied.

He cracked the leather sharply against her ass.

“Perhaps?” he questioned.

“I asked for it.” She relinquished easily. Of course the truth was obvious. Without being so bold as to hand him a whip and beg to be punished, she’d deliberately gone out of her way to throw herself at the man the night before, sass at Miles when he wanted her, and find every small annoyance to tick him off. Being punished was a need she had to have filled.

“Then you deserve it especially hard this time, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. She sealed her fate with every answer, but she would do nothing but agree with him. That too was part of being submissive. She cringed waiting, her bottom clenching and releasing, her breath deliberate, her anxiety mounting as she waited.

He ran the strap about her ass. It was still cool. He ran it between her legs, along her inner thigh. “Spread your legs further,” he instructed. She complied. The leather continued to trace lines on her flesh, so gentle and soft; the contrast to the blows that would follow was obvious.

“You need the leather because it stings so sharply,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll need a few bruises afterwards to remind you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You get punished for your whining tongue, for abusing my will and allowing yourself to be played with without my permission.”

“Yes, sir.”

He backed away from her rear eyeing her glorious white mounds again. “Bend lower and stick it out for me,” he ordered.

She complied, leaning forward even further so her cheeks were even more prominently displayed.

Miles reared back and cracked the leather hard against her.

She jerked. “Ow,” she murmured.

Another blow landed in the same place as the first.

She jerked again. “Oooo, ow, oh, my god!” she gasped in whispers under her breath.

“Hush,” he whispered in return.

The repetitious blows rained down on her bottom, with each stroke abundant pain burned her skin. She stifled her sobs, the intensity excruciating. If only he’d let up, even for a second, so she could catch her breath, so the pain would die away and she could prepare for the next.

She squirmed, unable to hold still. But he wouldn’t stand for it.

He stopped long enough for her to settle herself again.

“You behave so badly, Joanna, it only makes it last longer.”

He ran the leather against her flaming skin once more. Such a terrible tease. The strap was no longer cool and welcome against her ass.

He cracked it against her six more times. With all her might she tried to hold back the scream that was in her throat. If only she could respond, but he’d captured her in the semi public glen where her cries would rise into air, and she’d regret her loss of control.

The next pause was briefer, Miles renewing the punishment with a series of small sharp blows, that unlike the others were not distinct; their collective impact made her entire bottom burn. Not so intense, Joanna felt the surge inside her cunt. She was so sexually aroused that she swayed her ass before him brazenly, welcoming the next volley.

She was home free when it turned this way. Thinking she’d gotten off easily, they’d be f*****g like savages in minutes, she almost smiled to herself.

But Miles knew her too well. He changed his method once more and issued several more hard nasty cracks to each ass cheek.

“God, damn it!” she murmured under her breath, her feet dancing beneath her.

There were another several cracks, he was finishing, but not until he was ready.

Though she wiggled away, she didn’t wiggle far. The final blows hit squarely on her rear, in the center where the strap could strike both well reddened mounds.

She began to rise.

“Stay put!”

She breathed heavily waiting.

“You made it harder on yourself putting up such a fight.”

“It hurt,” she whined through her tears.

“It was meant to hurt like hell, I’m glad it did, and you will be too.”

He began to finger her bottom, feeling the warmth of her ass crack as his hand pushed into her, finding her moistened fold.

“Oh my, you’re giving yourself away,” he observed. “If you weren’t so aroused by this, I would quit, you know that?”

She hated afterwards when she felt so injured, and was made to listen to his comments on the state of her p***y. But she only hated it for a moment, until he’d engaged her body and her real need.

“You want me to take you here, slut?”

“OOooo, yes.” She wiggled her red ass seductively at him.

“Right here in the middle of the woods?” He toyed with her clit, tugged her nether jewelry. He’d put the little ring there, and since, he loved to pull at it and feel the little charge that raced through her body, not to mention his own. She was beginning to rock back against his hand.

“Ah, Miles, please.”

Several fingers penetrated her puss, the juicy hole squeezing back delightfully.

“You’ll get yours, slut,” he said. Withdrawing his fingers, he pulled her up and turned her around, only to shove her down on the stone bench. Her already sore bottom was roughed up again by the scratchy stone, though she didn’t have anytime to think about that, since his c**k was at her lips forcing its way between them.

“Suck me off,” he said. He grabbed her hair and pressed her face into his crotch.

Her lips surrounded his purple head, and she took all she could into her mouth, beginning a measured rhythmic massage of his hard shaft. Spanking, punishing and controlling his submissive always made him hard, always made his orgasm ready to rip through him.

She jerked the base of his d**k, as her mouth worked the head.

He leaned back and quietly gasped as the climax neared. “Ooo, yes, baby, use that mouth.”

She knew when he was ready to c*m, and as those final strokes mounted, she cupped his full balls in her hand and massaged them gently.

“Yeeeeah!” he shuddered softly into the warm air.

Withdrawing his c**k from her mouth his warm liquid shot all over her face, her lips, her cheeks, down her throat. The musty smell of s*x filled her nostrils; the pungent taste of his spunk pleased her. She licked her lips.

“Your face is a mess,” he said, looking down at her, seeing his c*m all over her mouth and cheeks.

She smiled, literally glowing.

“You gave me quite a load.”

“Only what you deserve.” He smiled. “Lick it clean,” he ordered. She carefully bathed his lovely prick with her mouth and tongue until it was ready to put back in his pants.

“And what do I do with myself?” she asked.

“What would you like to do?” he asked.

“Have you bring me off.” She looked up at him hoping he’d agree.

“Right here?”

“Why not? Or I could just lie back here and do it myself.”

He looked at her considering the options, then shook his head no. “I should make you wait.”

“Oh, no, please!”

“I’d rather you spent the afternoon feeling your bottom, and letting your body appreciate all the sensations.”

She looked at him wide-eyed. “Til when?”