On the Couch “On the couch, sweetie,” Emily tells me. On, not over… “
On the Couch “On the couch, sweetie,” Emily tells me. On, not over… “On your back.”Oh – like that, is it?“Put your legs up,” she adds from the bedroom. Not a great position to be spanked in… probably the cane or strap or yardstick, a lot in the crease… and worse, likely to be followed by over-the-knee, and hard, and probably long… just for ‘mood’? Hard to say how fair that is…And, um… fair or not… won’t be easy (impossible, really) to hide ‘any’ excitement I ‘might just be feeling’… (as in, starting already…) a little hard to complain when you’re so swollen that your love entrance is ‘winking’…Emily returns carrying the cane and a wide, soft spanker in one hand… holding the other aloft…Oh no, I think – and clench, reflexively.“Let’s…” she says, leaning over my bottom, “do… this,” as her finger deposits a glop of lube on ‘the other place’. I close my eyes and turn my head – and will until she makes me stop.Emily kneels and whispers in my ear, “Let’s see if we can make you feel better…” kisses me lightly, and then on the forehead.“Em… ma’am… I’ll do…”“Anything – I know,” she finishes for me. “Of course you will.”“You don’t have to…”But she’s already back, back there… not arguing, convincing, explaining – just doing… touching the spot that isn’t supposed to get touched, get ‘pressed’, get breached! Her hand, starting at my knees, separates my thighs, drops between them, touching me, a finger between my lips, flexing…“A bit of the cane, first, Lauren?” she asks and I exhale (finally), my lips pressed together, nodding rapidly, tears nearly in my eyes.“Twelve, say?” Emily suggests, rising, and I just turn my face away. After, she’ll be right back, still there, just more… inside… two hands, a finger in each, at least… She whips the cane up and down and without further preamble brings it across the underside of my cheeks, quite hard, making the tears I imagined spring to my eyes. And again, quickly.I want it to be over, and to be not over… for it not to be when she’s touching, rubbing, violating me in that way that she shouldn’t…She hold my ankles for another stroke – a different angle, harder, it seems, very hard to take, very deserved…When she’ll be doing what she shouldn’t… and I… Lauren… will be responding… I know… in her hands, right in front of her, where she can’t possibly miss it…Two, together, Wow, is it me or are they really that hard?Maybe after I can get a proper spanking – hairbrush, and a lot of it – for my… wickedness? naughtiness? degenerate response… even if I have to ask for it…Jeez-usss! Was that six? Around there…Oh why can’t I be on my tummy, at least?Ow-wow… and then Ahhhh!“Lauren? Look at me,” Emily asks nicely.I shake my head, close my eyes. Three hard strokes correct me. Tears running into my ears, I comply. Shameful, I tell myself, you at least need to behave!She takes her eyes off me to place her stroke, I squeeze my eyes shut (can’t help it) and duck my chin, but go back to looking at her (as requested) as quickly as I can.“Now let’s try to behave a little better, shall we?” Soon she’s looking at me from between my knees, she doesn’t have to look to know when I start… I frown as her finger slides into me… and then in front, too… when I start responding, which I will, she’ll feel it, she can watch my face, see my shame… -- source link
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