Denial and Discipline Spice Up Sex
Even though we’ve been married fourteen years, my husband and I have a fantastic and ever-changing sex life. Let me share one of our favorite scenes.
We fantasize that I am his captured slave. First, we have a cleansing ritual. I’m not allowed to move as he soaps, rinses and roughly rubs me so that I am clean enough for my master. He is especially diligent toweling my crotch and clit. All the while, he tells me what a bitch I am, how I have failed him, and how my body belongs to him to do with what he wants.
“Isn’t that right?” as he flicks my left nipple.
“No,” I answer. So he squeezes, gently at first, then harder, harder until I’m on my knees whispering, “Yes, Master.”
Then I am pulled and dragged to the bedroom where I stand naked in my shame. Taking an old tie from the closet, he binds my hands behind me. My master then takes out our special earrings. One earring is screwed on to each nipple, not too tightly at first, but then tighter and tighter. The delicious pinching brings me to my knees. Then he pushes my legs apart with his knee and shoves me backward, with my legs still bent at the knees behind me. He now separates my cunt lips and puts in place the third earring—tightening it on my clit. I squirm and writhe as he works my clit, now squeezing, now pressing and rotating. My complaints just make him screw the earrings tighter. Then, using his hard knuckles, he works in rhythmic circles toward my cunt lips. There, he manipulates two or three knuckles round and round and up into my hole—just enough to have me want to be filled—but never quite filling me. I want to pull my knees together and squeeze them, but he keeps them shoved apart and doesn’t quite let me come.
Then he reaches over and grabs me by the hair, shoving his bare foot in my face. He makes me kiss his feet and suck his toes. I want him in my mouth so badly now, but he makes me beg first and tell him how much I want to suck him and lick his balls. Finally, I am allowed to suck and he forces his prick down my throat. I am on my knees now, with my ass in the air. He takes our paddle and rubs it on my ass, teasing, rotating, telling me what will come. He makes me beg to be hit. He prolongs my impatience by raising and lowering the paddle. Each time I shudder and cringe, anticipating the hard whacks. This makes him hotter. Finally, he smacks my ass several times, with each smack thrusting his cock down my gagging throat. Then, off come all the gadgets and we fuck like crazy.
We would love to hear from anyone else who enjoys a little bondage, a little female submission and just a little pain with their pleasure.—Name and address withheld
SLAVING FOR AN “A”
I’d like to tell you of a learning experience I had. I had to study for a big final exam which dealt with twelve chapters of vocabulary words and meanings. So I asked my girlfriend, Sandy, if she could help me study. When I told her I didn’t know any of the words, she was mad at me for not going to class. But later in the evening, after she had been reading a Penthouse letter about “female rapists,” she said she would help me. But I would have to agree to any rules she made. Being as desperate to pass as I was, I readily agreed.
She said that I would learn my vocabulary through a reward and punishment system. When she told me this, I was dying to fuck her right there and then. But she was more interested in my learning the words, so she told me not to change the subject, and that meant no fucking around. Besides, I knew she was planning something for the next evening, a lesson that I now know I would never forget.
The rest of the evening was just an appetizer. She grabbed my hand and led me to our bedroom, stripped me naked, tied me to the bed, and made me eat her out. I also had to sleep like that so I would be totally horny and up for the next evening’s “lesson.”
The next afternoon I picked her up from work and to my delight she was wearing a black shift, black seamed nylons and black high heels, which I love. She told me to move over and said that she was going to drive. She reminded me that I had agreed to go by all her rules. While she was driving, she told me to unzip my pants, which I promptly did. She then drove to a store to buy another pair of black seamed nylons because the others were ripped. As she left the car, she commanded me to pull my pants down to my ankles. She told me that I had better be like that when she came back because she wanted to humiliate me and embarrass me in case anyone should walk by the car. She told me that I would have to stay like that until we got to the motel. Naturally I obeyed.
When we got to the motel room, she said that I was a naughty boy, and would be taught a lesson. I was to do everything she ordered and be her slave. She gave me my notebook of vocabulary words and told me to study while she took a shower. I was going to be quizzed on them later. After she got out of the shower, she put on her seamed nylons (garter included), black five-inch spike-heeled shoes, and wide black belt. She also put on a black-laced bra. She then told me to remove my clothes. She made me put on a pair of black panty hose. She had cut a hole in them so part of my cock hung out. Then she tied long pieces of cloth to my hands, and tied the cloth together. She ordered me to get down on my knees and kiss her high heels. She knew how much I enjoy her feet. After I kissed every inch of her feet and her spiked heels, she made me kiss my way up her nylons—without touching her pussy. Then she bent over in front of me and made me kiss her ass and tell her she had the nicest ass I’d ever seen (which she does).
She stood up and said, “Now the lesson will begin, you naughty student.” She pushed me onto the bed, put my hands over my head and tied them to the corner of the bed. I was lying faceup so that she could tickle my ribs and chest with her long fingernails. She had also left the panty hose on me so that my aching prick would be encased in its own type of bondage. Next, she tied my feet together, making sure she touched the bottoms of them with her fingernails, in order to show me that I had lost all control. Another string was tied around my thighs and yet another around my knees, so that I was completely at her mercy.
Sandy told me she was now going to ask me vocabulary words, but first she laid out some rules. For every three I got wrong I would be punished. I would be either tickled on the ribs, get a hard brush rubbed against my nipples, or if I pleaded and begged enough, I only would have to lick her ass or pussy as punishment. She told me I would get a hard-on, but that if I was going to come, I had better let her know. If at any time my hard-on was to fall, she would lick it back up to attention. She added that every time I got more than ten words in a row wrong she would suck on my toes, as she knows I hate to be tickled that way. Then she said that if I got five in a row right I would be rewarded by getting my prick licked—but only the portions of my prick that were not encased in her panty hose. The only way I could take the panty hose off was either to get two chapters correct, or to satisfy her with my tongue and drink all of her pussy juices. In either case, the panty hose would only be removed an inch at a time. So, at best, it would take me twelve chapters or six of her orgasms, to get the panty hose off my aching prick. In either case I still wouldn’t be able to come, even after I had finished the requirements, unless she let me. However, she told me that if I was very good about licking her ass and pussy in the way she liked, she would remove her panty hose from my cock at the rate of one inch per chapter, but that I would have to beg her appropriately and also that she would spank me until my whole ass was red. If I protested while I was being spanked, I would have to spend the whole night without coming.
Suddenly, she roughly ripped the panty hose off my body, tied my legs spread eagle to the corners of the bed and said that it was even better for her to play with my anus! By this time I was so horny that I begged her to let me have this new alternative. The whole time I was begging, she just laughed and tickled me with her nails. Finally she agreed, and let me lick her ass, which I did to the best of my ability.
The lesson finally began with her asking me questions and rewarding or punishing me appropriately. If she got really angry with me for not knowing the words, she flipped me over and spanked me without my being able to utter a complaint.
Well, I finally learned my words and Sandy had a hell of a time spilling her juices all over me and teasing my helpless prick. She loves to have me tied up and horny, totally obedient, answering to her every order. As you can guess, by the end of the night, I was doing everything that Sandy ordered to her specifications. Needless to say, I got an A on the test and another A in obedience from my newfound “Master Sandra.”—Name and address withheld
PUNISHMENT WITHOUT MEASURE IS HIS CONSTANT PLEASURE
I am a thirty-five-year-old male who has become the completely feminized slave of my mistress/wife. This morning, before she left for work, my mistress shackled me into my punishment chair (in the backyard utility shed) and ordered me to remain here until I wrote to you to tell the world of my enslavement and degradation.
I am, as I have been for the past six months, dressed as a woman. I’m wearing a bra, a waist-slimming corset, garters, stockings, panties, painfully tight spike shoes, a slip, a frilly chiffon dress, a blond wig, earrings, and the chastity device I was fitted with five months ago. The chastity device, which is truly devilish in design, resulted from my mistress’s noticing a semen stain on my panties.
My penis, which Mistress insists I refer to as my “pussy,” is encased in an openended length of plastic hose and tucked back between my legs. The hose is attached to a molded-rubber support that is shaped like a vagina, and the entire assemblage is locked in place with quarter-inch steel cable. The tightness and smoothness of the plastic hose keeps me in a constant state of erotic arousal, although denying me fulfillment. I am required to wear a sanitary napkin to absorb any discharge of semen.
Mistress often squirts baby oil inside the tube (reducing all friction), and has me do deep-knee bends until my arousal makes me shake violently. Then she straps my head between her legs, keeping it there until I have brought her to satisfaction, which sometimes takes hours.
The chastity device requires me to sit down to urinate. Mistress controls my bowel movements by releasing the locked butt cable once every other morning for my enemas. This takes less than ten minutes and is closely supervised by her. I am not permitted to touch or even look at my “pussy,” and Mistress has permitted me to ejaculate (which she detests as “unladylike”) only seven times since my enslavement, and then only as a reward.
On these occasions, I am bound and blindfolded, and Mistress, administering a suction device, gives me only five minutes to climax. Failure at this results in my being required to wait several weeks before I am so favored again.
Besides my daily duties of housekeeping and cooking, I bathe and dress Mistress, do the grocery shopping (which is still acutely embarrassing because of my being six-one, though I am learning to move as a woman), and must pass her stringent inspection of my makeup, my wig (as soon as my own hair has grown more, I’ll be required to perm and set it myself), nail polish and accessories. I shave my whole body every day, but my facial and pubic hair has been removed through electrolysis. I am also required to wear stockings and garters twenty-four hours a day, and to sleep in a locked leather slave helmet and leash, which denies me sight, sound, movement and speech. I have truly been reduced to insignificance and servitude.
My forced feminization and enslavement began on our vacation last winter. For years, I had secretly donned female attire for the deep sexual arousal it provided me. My first wife, discovering my secret playthings, divorced me because I would not admit my obsession to her. I let her believe that I had been unfaithful, and that she had found the clothing of an illicit lover. When I met my present wife (Mistress), I chanced hinting at “dressing up” as a sexual game. We also played at light bondage, and everything was wonderful.
Then, while vacationing, we were invited to a masquerade party by people we probably would never see again. I convinced my wife that it would be fun if she went as a “pimp,” and I as a “hooker.” We bought all the clothing necessary, and I ended up in a black satin dress, heels, blond wig, and some very sexy, very dainty underwear. She applied my makeup and, when I got a raging erection, promptly taped it up tight to my belly. This merely increased my excitement, but she was extremely businesslike about it. I should have noticed this early warning, but I was feeling too wonderful.
The party was a blast. We won second prize. I got drunk and passed out in our hotel room later. When I woke up the next day, still dressed as the “Happy Hooker,” it took me a few minutes to realize that my wife was gone, as was all our baggage. I also realized that all the hair on my body had been removed during the night, and that I had been undressed and then dressed again. On the bathroom vanity was a note addressed to “Kathy” (my former name was Kevin), and there were two Polaroid photos. As I saw in the pictures, she had brought a man to our room while I was asleep. One photo graphically depicted me, in drag, being butt-fucked, while the other photo showed me, eyes closed, with someone’s cock stuck in my mouth. (Unless I’d been drugged, I can’t understand how this was done without my waking up.)
I was disgusted and terrified. The note told me that if I failed to follow her instructions, similar photos would be sent to many of my friends and associates. She said she had left me a bus ticket to San Diego, some makeup, and a coat (no money or ID). She would meet me at the San Diego terminal the next evening, she said, and she warned me that I had better arrive as “Kathy.”
The next thirty hours were the most terrifying, humiliating, and deliciously erotic that I had ever experienced. My fear of embarrassment during the trip was intensely stimulating.
Well, I did make it to San Diego, and there she was, grinning as I had never seen her grin before. She greeted me as “Kathy” and advised me that, thenceforth, “Kathy” was to be my only name. In the car, she placed a silver collar about my neck (it is still in place). She told me that I was to call her “Mistress.” I would go to my office as “Kathy,” quit my job, retain an attorney to change my name legally from Kevin to Kathy, and sign over my real estate and other assets to her.
It was as if I had been hypnotized! Mesmerized!
Mistress had discarded all my male garments, providing me instead with frilly female clothing. My life as a feminized slave had begun.
We moved to another town, where I am always introduced as my mistress’s sister. She owns me, body and soul.
So far, my life as a slave has been wonderful. I would caution others, however, who are tempted to confess their secret fantasies to their spouses, that the consequences can go far beyond their expectations.—.K.S., Westminster, California
WIFE-SPANKING SPREADS HOUSE TO HOUSE
I’ve seen many letters in your excellent publication about “spanking games” between husband and wife, but I feel my experience is slightly different. A couple of years ago, my wife appeared at breakfast wearing only a flimsy negligee and became rather teasing. I threatened her with a spanking, and she dared me. So, putting her over my knee and wedging her shoulders under the table, I slapped her bare buttocks until she asked to be let up. No sooner had she gotten up than she said she wasn’t at all sorry, so I repeated the treatment, this time with a long-handled clothes brush.
That evening our neighbor, Joan, dropped in after my wife had gone to the cinema. Joan is a smart, attractive blonde and behind her back she held a polished willow stick. She was very friendly and said teasingly that my wife had told her about the spanking after I’d gone to work, and shown her the damage! We had a sherry and I asked why she had brought the stick. She was doe-eyed and said she had wanted a spanking but that her husband would not oblige. She explained that he was very placid and more interested in marine biology than love.
We kissed on the sofa and started petting. She gradually worked herself facedown across my lap, then opened my fly and caressed my penis into a major erection. I slipped down her silk panties and she opened her thighs, so I entered along her lips, and she started pleading for a spanking. She was very moist and with each spank her vagina slipped up and down my penis. From a few gentle starting slaps I progressed to harder and harder blows, which made her sob in ecstasy, till we both came together. After another sherry, she knelt on the end of the sofa, bending over the arm, and asked, begged, for the cane. I gave her twelve quick medium cuts on the same spot and she writhed and sobbed. “Harder, harder!” After six more, as hard as I could apply them, she rose and kissed me all over and, taking the cane, gave me two dozen as hard as she possibly could. Then, with me on my back on the floor, she bestrode me and performed like a veritable Bathsheba.
Pretty well every week after that, for a year, we had our little evenings. “Turn me over and turn me on” is Joan’s motto.—K.R., Devon, England
BALLING, BONDAGE AND BABY OIL ARE THIS LADY’S FAVORITE THINGS
I’d like to share the wonderful evening my husband and I experienced last night. I was in the bathroom, washing up, when my dear man came in and said, “Get undressed, totally. That’s an order!” He is a military man and used to giving orders, but I’m not used to receiving them. However, I finally decided, “What the hell! It could make the night rather interesting.” I stripped and joined him in the living room, where he’d gone to watch TV. The look on his face was priceless. We had never made a habit of living in the raw except in bed and, as I nestled up to him, he whispered, “I guess I should undress, too.” I quickly agreed.
In no time we were in the bedroom with only the light of two candles to love by. I suggested reading a bit from Penthouse Letters (which we recommend as a great incentive for lovemaking), so my husband reached under the bed, but he wasn’t reaching for the magazine, I realized this when I felt my left hand being securely bound with one of the cords we keep fastened to each corner of the bed for just that purpose. Soon all four of my limbs were tied down. I lay spread-eagle, totally at my husband’s mercy. Then he blindfolded me, which heightened my sense of helplessness.
Not knowing what to expect next drove me wild! He began caressing my body with his mouth—my neck, face, breasts, thighs, everywhere but my pussy, where I was aching most to feel him. To my horror, suddenly he got up and left me alone. I don’t think anything can make you feel more vulnerable than to be tied up, blindfolded, naked and horny, and then left alone. When I heard my husband moving around in the adjoining bathroom, I assumed he was looking for his shaving cream and that he intended to shave my pussy, which he loves to do every once in a while. (He says that the little-girl look of a hairless cunt is a real turn-on for him.) However, when he came back, it wasn’t shaving cream he spread on me, but baby oil! He oiled every inch of me from my neck on down. The way my body glistened in the flickering candlelight, my husband said, made me look extra sexy and alluring. I didn’t think the delicious sensation could get any better, but he proved me wrong when he laid his body on top of mine and started fucking me. Usually I am unable to come without direct stimulation of my clit with his tongue, fingers, or a vibrator. But the luscious combination of our oilslicked bodies sliding together, and the sensation of having that nice hard penis inside me, did the trick. It was wonderful to have such a tremendous orgasm with my lover’s cock filling my cunt.
My message for those who feel, as I used to, that baby oil just creates an oily mess: Try it! The shower together afterwards is a lot of fun, too!——Name and address withheld
SPANKING SPELLS RELIEF TO HARDWORKING EXEC
I have been reading Penthouse Letters for about a year, and the readers’ letters have encouraged me to write this. At one time I thought I was alone in my predilections. I have been married three years now (I am thirty-one) to a woman four years my senior. She is the sexual aggressor and I find this extremely pleasurable. About a year ago I confided to her my most personal sexual desires. Since my boyhood I have always had thoughts and dreams of being spanked by an attractive woman. My wife wasn’t overly surprised because, during our courtship, I had occasionally played some sort of spanking games with her. She gladly agreed to fulfill my desires.
Often now she takes me over her knee after taking down my pants and underwear and, as my penis gets extremely rigid, locks it helplessly between her thighs. While I am in this embarrassing position, she usually lectures or scolds me for being a naughty boy and repeatedly mentions that she is going to give me a good spanking. And let me tell you, the tingling sensation of my bare behind in this vulnerable position is fantastic! She then proceeds to spank me lightly until I ejaculate. After my ejaculation, she keeps me over her lap and lightly rubs my bottom with her open hand in a circular motion that sends chills up my spine.
I am an executive and this little ritual relieves the strains and tensions of a hectic day at the office. It works far, far better than any amount of alcohol could. Sometimes we will play a game while I am being spanked over her lap. If I can hold off from coming until she releases me, we can have sex. Occasionally, if I am tense or keyed up, she will give me both a spanking and then an enema with a rectal syringe, and during the course of one or the other I will ejaculate. The feeling of being on her knee and given a sound going-over is out of this world, coming from a responsive, attractive, big-busted woman.—C.E., Huntington, New York
HUMILIATED BY SIS AND HER GIRLFRIENDS, HE GETS DRESSED DOWN AND CROSS-DRESSED UP
Recently I began to read your magazine, and I think it is great. My favorite letters arc those about female domination. I would like to share an experience of mine that I shall never forget.
I was a freshman in college at the time. When I decided to visit home one Friday night, I arrived to find that my parents were gone for the weekend. But my kid sister, Kathy, was there with four of her friends from high school. They were having a slumber party.
At first the girls were worried that the arrival of Kathy’s older brother would spoil their plans, but I went out and bought some beer, which helped everyone relax and enjoy. After a while, we somehow got to talking about wrestling. I reminded Kathy how angry it had made her when I pinned her down. She retorted that there had been a few times when she had almost beaten me, and that I was not nearly as good at wrestling as I thought.
The situation escalated from there, and I found myself challenged to a wrestling match by all five of the girls. It was agreed that I would wrestle each girl, one at a time, and if I won all five matches the girls would be mine to punish. However, if any of the girls pinned me down, I’d have to submit to their punishment.
What a deal! Just thinking about all that body contact made my cock start to twitch.
The first two girls I wrestled were easy to beat, but the third girl, Colleen, surprised me. As we began to wrestle, she used a quick move to flip me on my back. Before I knew what was happening, Colleen was on top of me, trying to hold my shoulders to the floor. For a few seconds it looked like I would lose, but I finally managed to push her off of me. It took almost ten minutes for me to pin her. One reason why it took so long was that I was afraid she might have another trick to pull on me and so I was extra careful. Also, she was much stronger than she looked.
By this time I was very tired. The fourth girl, Sharon, took advantage of my weariness and quickly had me on the floor. I struggled as hard as I could to keep her from flipping me on my back. I knew if she managed to do that, I would be finished. The other girls were cheering Sharon on, and she was using all her considerable strength in trying to turn me over.
Finally, out of desperation, I stopped resisting Sharon and let her flip me over. Before she managed to pin me down, however, I wrapped my legs around hers and tripped her to the floor. Moving quickly, I sat on Sharon’s chest and pinned her before she realized what was happening.
This left only my sister to beat. If I had not been so tired, I would have had no trouble defeating her, but I barely had enough strength left to stay on my feet. After maneuvering awhile for position, Kathy ducked behind me and twisted one of my arms behind my back. I struggled to escape, but my exhaustion left me too weak to resist any longer. As the other girls applauded, Kathy reached around my waist, unbuckled my belt, opened my jeans, and pulled them to my knees. I felt totally humiliated by my sister, because I had developed an erection from all the physical contact during the wrestling, and it now poked out from my underpants.
Kathy finally decided to end the combat and pushed me roughly to the floor. I could offer no resistance as she rolled me on my back, straddled my chest, planted her knees on my forearms, and pinned me down. I was completely helpless. Looking up at the cruel smile on my sister’s lips, I knew I was in for trouble.
The other girls sat down next to me, laughing and teasing me about having been beaten at wrestling by my little sister. My face flushed red from embarrassment. Then one of the girls pulled down my underpants and uncovered my erection. “What do you think of my big brother?” Kathy asked her friends.
“I bet we can make him even bigger,” one of them replied. I felt the girls teasing my prick and balls, rubbing their hands over my crotch until I thought I would go crazy. The whole time this was going on, Kathy looked down at me with satisfaction and amusement. Finally, my cock could take no more teasing, and I came all over myself. The five girls applauded.
Kathy and her friends were far from finished with me. After talking among themselves for a few moments, they stripped off my clothes and dragged me to the bathroom, where they cleaned me up and, to my complete chagrin, shaved all the hair from my legs. After that, they led me to Kathy’s bedroom and forced me to dress up in my sister’s clothing.
At first I refused to cooperate, but the girls insisted that this was a girls-only slumber party. They added that if I did not do as they ordered, they would spank me. I had no choice but to give in to their demands. I was forced to put on panties, a bra (which they padded with some of my sister’s socks), a pair of thigh-high white stockings, a white blouse, short blue skirt, and ankle boots with high heels. (Sharon donated the boots, because my feet were too big to fit into Kathy’s shoes.)
After I was dressed, the girls manicured my nails, made up my face, clipped on earrings, and fitted me with one of my mother’s wigs. When they were finished, they forced me to stand in front of a full-length mirror and gaze at myself. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I had been completely transformed! I looked exactly like a girl! I was even pretty!
During the rest of the night, the girls did everything they could think of to humiliate me further. I was forced to wait on each of them hand and foot, and to endure their endless pinches and squeezes. They made me pose while they took pictures of me. At one point, two of the girls escorted me around the block. As we walked I was actually trembling, afraid that one of my friends or neighbors would see me in my feminine garb.
Finally, as the ultimate humiliation, one of the girls pulled me across her lap, lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties, and spanked me until I was begging for mercy. Following that, I was forced to stand in the corner for an hour with my panties down around my ankles, holding my skirt above my waist so that all the girls could took at my red fanny.
At last the girls decided it was time to go to bed. I had to undress each one and help her into her nightclothes. The girls then undressed me, put me into a babydoll nightie and panties, and sent me to bed. Before I fell asleep, they all came into my room, one at a time, to kiss me good-night. The last one to come in was Sharon, and she gave me a great blow job.
That experience was at the same time the most humiliating of my life and the most sexually exciting thing that has ever happened to me. Since that night I have been an avid fan of female domination, and have often wished that I could find a woman willing to dominate me. Until I do, I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with my memories.—Name and address withheld
TEACHER EDUCATES BARE-ASSED COEDS OVER HIS KNEE
I am an avid reader of Penthouse Letters and am particularly interested in the letters about spanking. I think your readers will find my experiences interesting.
I am a teaching assistant at a large Midwest university. About a month ago I left some books in my office and had to return late at night to get them. When I got there I found two of my female students copying a test. After surprising them I told them that either I would have to report them or arrive at some other form of punishment. They didn’t want to be expelled, so they agreed to accept whatever punishment I prescribed. I decided on spanking. At first they protested, but they eventually accepted my terms. The terms were that they would be spanked in three installments on weekends when the office building was empty. Linda decided to go first, leaving Susan with a whole week of anticipation.
I got to the office early that Saturday and Linda was waiting for me. She seemed too much at ease for someone in her position; I couldn’t figure it out. I got the hairbrush (which I procured just for the occasion) from my desk. She was all smiles as she crawled over my knees. Then I found out why she was so confident. I could see the faint outline of a magazine under her jeans! I pulled her off my lap and she immediately knew I was onto her. I told her that for such a trick she would receive all her spankings on the bare behind. She pleaded with me, but eventually submitted. She blushed from head to toe as she removed her panties. She was very careful not to expose anything as she once again crawled over my knees. I lectured her for five minutes on the evils of cheating, the whole time enjoying the view of her plump behind. Then I began spanking. I took my time, leaving four to five seconds between each swat. She maintained her composure for the first ten swats, then she broke down, lost all modesty and began kicking and crying wildly. Each time the paddle landed, her behind jiggled and she let out a loud yelp. As she wiggled and squirmed to try to avoid the blows, I saw everything she had tried so hard to conceal. When I finished the forty strokes her rear was a deep crimson. I stood her in a corner until she stopped crying. As she was putting her clothes on, she said that she was sorry and had deserved everything she got.
The next week, Susan showed up fifteen minutes late. I used her tardiness as an excuse to spank her on the bare bottom, too. When I told her to take off her dress I found that she didn’t have on a bra. As she stood there naked, Susan was even more embarrassed than Linda had been. I had her fetch the hairbrush from the desk and then bend over my knees. Her behind turned red fast, and she seemed to be suffering more than Linda had, so I set the brush aside and finished with a hand spanking. The difference was phenomenal. The hand spanking was much more sensual. I could feel the warmth and the quivering of her behind as I landed each spank. When it was over, I couldn’t resist rubbing her bottom. I continued until she stopped crying. After she was dressed, she kissed me passionately on the mouth and then ran out.
Since then, I have spanked each girl again and they each have once more to go. I begin with the brush and then use my hand. I am looking for ways to get more of my students over my knee in the future. Overall, I think spanking is fairer than expulsion for first-time cheating.—Name and address withheld
A BARE-ASS PADDLING AND AN EARNEST FUCK GET HER INITIATED
I never thought it could happen to me, but it did. I am a student at a very small private college in the San Francisco Bay Area and a member of a small but close-knit professional fraternity that has been predominantly male in the past. This semester, however, we decided to initiate some female members and were surprised by the number of responses we got. The frat brothers were delighted with the upcoming initiation ritual, and one pledge in particular.
Julie was a newly elected cheerleader, with the body to prove it. Her silken spun-gold curls cascaded lightly to her beautiful tan shoulders. Her smile revealed gorgeous, full lips and gleaming white teeth. As you watched her speak, it was hard not to envision how it would feel to taste that mouth. Her limbs were long and firm and slightly muscular, due to the exercise she got as a cheerleader. Her breasts, enormous but firm, jiggled slightly as she walked. Her pretty ass fetchingly filled out the gym shorts she always wore to tantalize the guys. When she was wearing bikini shorts, you could see her tan lines and imagine the luscious, creamy-smooth skin underneath the nylon fabric. Just watching her was a sexual experience.
As pledge-master I planned special activities for her just so I could spend more time with her. When the big week rolled around, I summoned Julie to my room late one night and informed her (falsely) that she might not make it to the final ceremony, due to some seldom-used fraternity bylaws. I made it clear to her that the decision rested in my hands. She begged and pleaded for me to reconsider, whereupon I told her that there might be something she could do. My manhood swelled in anticipation as I explained the task. She considered the proposition, and then, coming to a decision, began to unbutton her thin silk tunic. Sliding it from her golden limbs, she revealed her magnificent white breasts with their hard, brown nipples. She beckoned to me, and I approached, my desire obliterating all other thoughts from my mind. Her trembling fingers lightly unbuckled my belt and slid my jeans to the floor. Some of her nervousness rubbed off on me and I trembled as I placed her hands on my erect warrior.
After she’d stroked it for several moments, I felt a rising excitement and tore her skirt away from her hips. Quivering, she pulled her panties down and kicked them away with her perfectly formed feet. She had revealed a neatly trimmed bush with a slight glistening wetness visible on her pussy’s lips. I gestured toward the pledge paddle hanging above the bookshelf, and her eyes grew wide. After she’d handed it to me, I made her bend over and hold her ankles, and then I gave her one stroke for every demerit she had accumulated. She cried out in painful pleasure with each whack, and her cheeks turned a shade closer to our fraternity colors of purple and red.
Upon completion of my disciplinary duties, I saw the erotic love juices flowing freely down Julie’s legs. Still bending over her, I thrust the handle of the paddle between her wet cunt-lips. She dropped to her knees, moaning with pleasure. She herself worked the handle deeper and deeper into herself, twisting and turning it to suit her enjoyment. Turned on by this, I dropped to my knees and thrust my tongue as deeply into her asshole as I could. She yelped to indicate her satisfaction and breathed very heavily so that her enormous chest expanded and contracted seductively. She was still unsatisfied, though, and turned around to face me. Then, with incredible strength, she made me lie on my back so she could straddle my hips. In this position, she guided my cock into her love crevice, rotating her hips and pelvis in rhythm to a song that only she heard.
With her eyes closed tight in ecstasy and her head thrown back, Julie came in a powerful rush. She gripped my ass with her clawlike fingernails and I came immediately after her. Our juices mingled in her steaming cauldron, and we fell to the floor in each other’s arms. We made love again the next morning, missing all our early classes.
In my opinion, Julie had passed the fraternity initiation with flying colors. The official ceremony a few days later was a breeze for her, and we have since relived our own private ceremony several times. We take our fraternal bond very seriously.—Name and address withheld