Discipline (SM)
Erotiske noveller skrevet af  Stephen Elbow

Udgivet: 27-06-2011 00:01:05 - Gennemsnit: 3  Udskriv
Kategori(er): SM
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Peter had always been the jealous type, but Amy had never dared play on the fact before. She already knew he felt uncomfortable with her being the only female at her workplace, so the outfit she’d chosen to wear that first day was like a red rag to a bull. He’d left for work before her that morning, so he hadn’t seen how short her skirt was, nor the plunging neckline of her tight white blouse. The surprise came when he picked her up, and it didn’t appear to go down well.
When she heard the familiar beep of his car horn, Amy made a point of exiting the building with an incredibly hunky builder by her side. There were twenty builders on the construction firm’s books in total, and it was her job to provide all the secretarial support. She had to ensure there were sufficient numbers of men at each site, organise all the transportation and keep all the paperwork up-to-date. Then there were the phones to answer, the teas and coffees to make and the constant liaison with the boss. It was a tough, demanding role, but she’d enjoyed the first day, what with all those muscled builders drifting in and out of the building. She was certainly never short of eye-candy, but should she really have been staring quite so closely? As a married lady, she knew it was wrong, but that only increased her desire to be spanked.
“See you later,” she said, waving at the hunky builder, as she opened the door and climbed in the car. Her miniskirt was flapping around in the breeze, but it didn’t climb high enough to reveal her stocking tops. Not that Peter needed to see her stocking tops to be angered by the way she had dressed that day. She saw his eyes flicker up and down her body, noticing every element that spoke of sex – the glossy redness of her lipstick, the eye-catching crevice between her breasts, the long, slim legs in the tiny skirt and the seductive five-inch stiletto heels.
“Who was that?” asked Peter, already stepping on the accelerator, like he wanted to whisk her away from there as fast as he could.
“Oh, just one of the guys,” said Amy.
“Just one of the guys? How the hell many of them are there, then?” “Oh, about forty. No, probably fifty.” It was a little white lie. Amy knew there were only twenty, but exaggerating the number was sure to add to Peter’s already mounting jealousy.
Much as he tried to keep his eyes on the road ahead, she could see him continually gazing down at her legs, then shaking his head in horror at how short her skirt was. Adding fuel to the fire, Amy crossed one leg on top of the other, which made her skirt ride a little higher up her thighs. It was enough to expose just a hint of stocking top, and she knew what picture that would put in his mind – a picture of fifty horny builders standing in front of her desk all day, watching the new sexy secretary repeatedly crossing and uncrossing her legs, and flashing them her stocking tops and maybe even more in the process! It was a scenario she found quite horny herself; hence the sensual tingle between her thighs. Her knickers stuck to her cunt lips, as the first drips of juice seeped out of her gash, but it was the look on Peter’s face that thrilled her most. She could see the jealous fury in his eyes, in his down-turned lips and in the furrowed lines above his brows. His silence was almost deafening, too. He hadn’t even asked her if she’d enjoyed her first day in her brand new job, such was his disgust with the way she looked.
Amy let him stew in his own juices for the rest of the journey, excited by what the slow build of anger might lead to.
She knew he thought she had been a bad girl, so he was certain to want to punish her. As he parked the car in front of the house, she made a point of jumping out of the car before him, wanting him to follow her into the house. It was important that he saw her marching ahead, her stiletto heels making her bottom wiggle. Her skirt was tight as well as short, the satin fabric clinging tight to her cheeks, as they swung suggestively from side-to-side.
Even without turning back to look, she could tell he was staring at her curvaceous arse. She accentuated the swing of her hips, as she opened the front door and hurried through the hallway. At work, through the paper-thin walls in the ladies, she’d heard several of the builders having a laddish debate about whether the new girl’s sexiest features were her voluptuous breasts or shapely rear. They’d voted two-to-one in favour of her bum cheeks, so how could Peter fail to look? Her arse was like a magnet to him, tempting him and teasing him, almost forcing him to deliver the spanking Amy craved.
She led him through to the kitchen, where she grabbed the kettle and took it to the sink. She filled it with water, then took it back to the stand, knowing he was watching her every move.
The coffee cups were stashed in the cupboard beneath the work surface, so she’d have to bend right over to pick them up. As she reached down for them, with her bum in the air, her skirt climbed high above her stocking tops – high enough to flash him her tight black knickers.
“You slut,” yelled Peter, unable to contain his fury any longer. “Were you bending down like that at work all day? No wonder those builders seem to like you so much.” “What do you mean?” said Amy, suddenly the innocent.
She stood upright again and turned to Peter, a butter-wouldn’tmelt look on her face. But her innocent face was only half the story, the other half being her provocative attire.
“Look, don’t play the innocent with me,” said Peter.
“You’ve been flashing your tits and arse all day.” “Oh, you’re just being silly,” insisted Amy, but her attempt to calm him was only an act. The truth was she wanted to rouse him further, so she turned and reached for the coffee cups again.
Amy held her pose, bending down towards the cupboard, with her skirt around her middle and her arse in the air. She picked up two cups, then leaned across the work surface, still with her bum at a spankable height. She was hoping Peter would be seeing her through the builders’ eyes, for whenever he became jealous, he no longer looked at Amy with his own eyes. Instead, he saw her through the lens of whoever was the cause of his jealousy. Suddenly, he was no longer himself, but one of the builders admiring the brand new secretary’s arse.
“You dressed to please them, didn’t you, you whore?” Peter shouted, his footsteps bringing him closer to Amy. He stood right behind her, then everything went silent, except for the gentle rustle of his shirtsleeves, as he raised his hand to shoulder-height.
“Yes, I did,” said Amy, determined to enflame him. She wanted this to be the hardest, most punishing spanking of her life, and there was no better way to bring out the best in her jealous husband than to let him think she’d dressed like a whore to arouse a bunch of young, hung builders. She gritted her teeth, as she waited for the impact, eager to see how great Peter’s wrath was and to know what kind of a punishment she was in for. The first spank was always a good indication of what was to follow, but Peter knew that only too well and was only too happy to make her wait.
Amy heard the sound of Peter’s breathing, made heavier than usual by his obvious anger. The anticipation was killing her, so she raised her buttocks higher into the air, trying to tempt him into that first firm slap. A swarm of butterflies made her stomach churn, as she heard the movement of his hand, but all he did was grab her skirt and lift it further away from her pert pink cheeks. Her arse was his now, ready to be punished – a punishment she so richly deserved.
“You tart!” yelled Peter, then at last it happened – his hand swished through the air and struck her left cheek. She still had her tight black knickers on, but the fabric wasn’t able to cushion the sting. A groan of pain burst out of her lips, then a sense of panic overwhelmed her mind, for the opening blow had been far more painful than ever before. Had Amy gone too far that day with her plan to incite Peter’s jealous nature? Yes, if the opening blow was anything to go by. He seemed determined to teach her an especially thorough lesson.
“Dirty bitch!” he bellowed, lifting his hand back on high, then delivering a second blow to the exact same spot. The initial pain was yet to die, so the second spank just enflamed it further, the mounting soreness sending prickly shivers all the way up Amy’s back and down her thighs. Amy closed her eyes and steeled herself, knowing there were still more spanks to come, the next one catching the top of her thighs. It was delivered with a venom that made her squeal. Her slutty attire and flirtatious manner with the builders had really brought out the animal in her man.
Peter drove his hand into Amy’s buttocks, executing five fierce slaps in quick succession. She groaned with discomfort after every one, but that didn’t stop her poking her arse even higher into the air, as if imploring him to spank her harder.
The steady accumulation of blows was turning her aching arse cheeks red, the welts throbbing harder with each new strike.
But Amy knew the pain was warranted. She had dressed and acted like a tart that day, encouraging the attention of the muscled builders. And even though she would always stay true to Peter, it hadn’t stopped the fantasies playing in her head – fantasies of two sweaty, bare-chested workmen sandwiching her naked body, their dirty hands clasping her exposed breasts, their hard cocks filling her deep, wet holes.
“I’m a slut,” whispered Amy, recalling her lust-fuelled fantasies of illicit sex with her work colleagues.
“A filthy slut,” confirmed Peter, then he ripped down her knickers, eager to punish her naked flesh. And Amy couldn’t wait! She was desperate to feel his hand delivering blow after blow to her bare behind. Her dirty mind needed correcting somehow. She had cheated on Peter in her head, so she deserved whatever he threw at her.
Her buttocks quivered from the force of the blow, as Peter lashed out at her curvaceous cheeks. He smiled when he saw how red her flesh was. Even spanking her through her knickers, he’d been able to create some punishing sore spots.
And with her knickers now down around her ankles, there was nothing to come between his hand and her skin. That meant maximum impact and maximum noise. A healthy, hearty slapping sound filled the air each time he executed another blow.
“Take that,” he shouted, the palm of his hand smacking hard into the centre of Amy’s rear-end. He grabbed some flesh and pinched her right bum cheek, agitating one of the many sore red marks upon her arse. Amy looked back over her shoulder at him, letting him see the torment in her eyes, then she screamed in his face as he struck her again. The force of the strike had sent shivers right through her, the pain now so intense she couldn’t take anymore.
“Forgive me,” she said, but she was just too late, for Peter’s arm was already gaining speed. It surged through the air towards her arse, the eventual thwack almost deafening to hear. Amy howled with pain, but there was an added element to the howl that sounded like a pre-orgasmic sigh of pleasure.
There was no doubt Peter was punishing Amy, but she couldn’t deny she was enjoying it, too. Both she and her jealous husband could smell the sex-juice that had dripped from her gash throughout the spanking.
“You really are a slut!” said Peter, realising the punishment had turned Amy on. He pressed a hand between her legs and felt how wet her pussy was.
“So, fuck me like I’m a slut,” said Amy, then she pushed her sore buttocks against his crotch and rubbed them up and down his cock. It was fully erect. He was horny, too! “On the table,” said Peter, lifting Amy into his arms and then laying her down on the kitchen table. Her knickers were still around her ankles, so he removed her stilettos and then pulled them right off, allowing her to spread her stocking-clad thighs and him to mount her curvy body. Amy didn’t guess it, but he’d chosen the missionary position and the kitchen table for a reason – so that when he thrust, Amy’s freshly spanked cheeks would grind against the hard wooden surface.
Amy thought her punishment had come to an end, but as his helmet pressed inside her, she felt the bitter sting return to her cheeks. Then, when Peter rammed his manhood deeper, the throbbing in her buttocks felt even more vivid than the delicious pulsations he ignited in her gash. Peter always fucked her harder after a spanking, so she wasn’t surprised by the high-speed tempo, but the mix of sensations was harder to deal with. Bursts of intense pleasure alternated with almost unbearable twinges of pain, as Peter’s thrusts sparked vibrant tingles in her pussy while all the time adding to the soreness in her arse.
“I hope you’re learning your lesson,” said Peter, staring into Amy’s eyes. She longed to tell him she was, but she couldn’t stop screaming. Every thrust of his dick drew a howl from her lips, half cry of pleasure and half cry of pain. She slapped her hands against his buttocks, as they bobbed back and forth between her thighs, powering the meaty thrusts of his cock. The same venom he’d shown when spanking her arse was now being displayed in the hardest, deepest penetration she’d experienced in years.
An intense pulsation made her cunt walls spasm, as Peter powered his full-length into Amy’s slit. She felt her red raw arse cheeks getting squashed against the tabletop, and this reminder of what a bad girl she’d been was enough to tip her over the edge. Her fingernails dug into Peter’s buttocks, as her insides spasmed harder, a thick wave of juice flooding through her cunt. This time her scream was of purest pleasure. All the pain seemed to vanish in the heat of her climax! “Oh, baby,” groaned Amy, wrapping her limbs round Peter’s body and locking him in her climactic embrace. Her pussy was convulsing around his erection, her pulsations stimulating his shaft and head. Each time her muscles tightened round his length, she could feel the excitement in his cock, the quickening throbs in his helmet making it clear he was just about to explode.
Peter pulled back his hips for a final time, then hammered his cock deep into Amy’s gash. Her cunt walls pulsed around his prick, as a bolt of orgasmic tension shot along his shaft and made his head vibrate. Perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her, but as the creamy waves of spunk spilled into her gash, it felt like Peter’s helmet was bulging to almost twice its normal size. It throbbed hard between her tight, wet walls, almost as if it was spanking her from deep within. A powerful sequence of clear, precise throbs made it drum against her muscles, as jet after jet of come gushed out.
And as Peter thrust again to drain the spunk from his balls, so Amy’s sensitive behind got crushed against the wooden tabletop. She felt a burst of pain in her arse cheeks, but her cunt had the upper hand now, the blissful feel of Peter coming inside her allowing her to cope with the excruciating sting. Her insides were still convulsing at speed, and her orgasm still refusing to fade, as the full extent of her husband’s mastery added a powerful mental dimension to the physical rush. Peter had not only punished her for behaving like a slut and fantasising about the builders, but he’d also proved she didn’t need to have those illicit fantasies. None of those builders could have spanked and fucked her with any more passion than Peter had done. Every fantasy she had could be fulfilled by him, his jealous nature and dominant force able to take her to such incredible heights.
A grateful Amy went to kiss his lips, but he pulled away and gave her a final masterful look. He pressed his hands beneath her body, cupping her buttocks and fingering the bruises his hands had raised.
“I want you to dress sensibly tomorrow,” he said, reminding her of the lesson she’d been taught that day. “I don’t mind you dressing like a slut for me, but not for that bunch of guys you work with.” Peter’s words made Amy smile; and she wondered whether to tell him that her short skirt and revealing blouse had always been meant for him, not the builders. But in the end she said nothing, for her plan had worked well – too well for her not to use it again. She loved the jealous rage she’d inspired in Peter and so it was best to let him carry on wondering what went on when she was working with all those handsome muscular men around her. He’d be picking her up every single day and was sure to keep a close eye on what she was wearing. So it was all in her control now. She knew how to bring out the green-eyed monster in him. Just wear a short skirt and strappy heels to work and she was guaranteed a thorough spanking.


Erotiske noveller skrevet af  Stephen Elbow





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Udgivet den27-06-2011 00:01:05