K.C. Perrin Spanking Erotica

It all started with a letter ’d found two days ago while going through my roommate’s mail. Sarah was on a three week trip out of the country and had asked me to collect her mail, water her plants and feed her cat Mittens.

Most mail she received, I could sort into two piles: bills to be paid and ads to be ignored. A few letters however were different. At first, I’d called Sarah, just to make sure they weren’t important. She was quickly annoyed with me interrupting her vacation and told me to just open them and only contact her when they were actually important.

This letter was one of those. It had arrived in a simple white envelope, with just her name and address on the front. I’d opened it without giving it much thought and inside was just a single white card with an address and a date plus time, signed in the bottom right corner with the initials A.E. in fancy calligraphy.

I’d called Sarah, asking her what it might mean, but she’d been strangely evasive. It wasn’t like her to keep secrets, but she insisted that she had no idea what this was about. In the end she’d even suggested it was sent to the wrong person, despite her full name being on the envelope, and refused to discuss it further.

She’d told me to just throw it out. Instead, I’d kept it on a separate pile with her mail, thinking perhaps that if she saw it when she came back, she might recognize it after all. Sarah’s return however, was still over a week away, and the date on the card was today.

My curiosity more than anything else urged me to find this address and find out what this letter was about. Perhaps it was just a delivery that needed to be picked up, or maybe she was meeting with someone. The least I could do was show up and tell them my roommate wasn’t home to make the appointment.

 

I had been slightly nervous when I got in the cab and gave the driver the address on the card, though I didn’t know why. As we drove, I told myself that if anything weird was going on, I could always just turn back, they were expecting Sarah after all, not me.

The car stopped at a large multi-story building that looked like a hotel. I realized then that what I had thought was an apartment number, was actually a hotel-room number.

More curious than ever, wondering whom my friend might be meeting in a hotel-room – and in such a mysterious way – I made my way into the lobby.

To my surprise, there was no-one inside, not even a front desk to greet the guests, just a big touch-screen against the wall like you might see at a fast-food restaurant where you can order your meal. I entered Sarah’s name and last name on the screen, as well as the room-number on the card and I heard the click of the door to my right unlocking.

A bit nervous again now, I pushed through the door, into a small room with a single elevator. I let it take me up to the correct floor and made my way to the room my friend had been invited to.

I could feel my heart in my throat as I approached that door, but I told myself that if things got freaky, I could just say I had the wrong room. They were expecting Sarah, and we looked nothing alike.

The room to my surprise, was empty, just an empty bed, a wardrobe and a door leading to what I assumed was a bathroom. It was just a boring, cheap hotel-room. I felt a bit deflated, being so nervous for nothing, and my curiosity still unsatisfied.

Then however, I noticed something on the nightstand beside the bed. An envelope and some folded black cloth.

I picked up both, the black cloth unrolled in my hand and turned out to be a sleeping mask, the envelope contained a letter with the same A.E. initials in the bottom right corner. It’s content however, was much more perverse than the one I had in my purse. It read:

 

Take off your clothes and put on this blindfold.
Then wait.

 

What kind of game had I walked in on? I wondered, what kind of kinky activities had Sarah involved herself with? I knew she didn’t have a boyfriend, she wasn’t seeing anyone. She would’ve told me if she had. So who was sending her letters like these, giving her these instructions?

I remained silent, not moving from the spot I stood on for quite a while, unsure what I should do next. Suddenly, the phone on the nightstand rang. I squealed, jumping nearly a foot in the air in surprise. I looked around myself and as it continued ringing, I picked up. “Hello?” I asked.

“Hello Sarah,” a deep male voice replied, “Do you still want to play?”

I licked my lips, wondering whether they’d recognize my voice not being Sarah’s, “What are we playing?” I asked.

There was a short silence before an answer came, “You know what we’re playing, Sarah, don’t pretend to be shy now. If you still want to play, follow the instructions on the card. If you changed your mind, you can leave whenever you want. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Remember, I’m watching.”

A blush crept up my face as I nervously looked around. He was watching? Was there a camera somewhere? Was that how he knew I hadn’t followed his instructions yet? But then he should know I was not Sarah, unless… Unless he didn’t know what my roommate looked like. What kind of date had Sarah arranged for herself here?

I looked at the card in my hand one last time, just before I’d lay it down and leave this room. Though there was a tiny voice in the back of my head that told me, you could pretend to be Sarah…

It was a ridiculous thought; take off my clothes and put on a blindfold while I knew some stranger was watching me? And what other instructions might come after that?

It could be fun though, the voice insisted, he said you could leave whenever you want.

And that moment to leave was now, I insisted.

Yet I didn’t move, looking at the door nervously. You’ll never find out what this is really about if you leave now, the voice insisted, playing on my curiosity.

I placed the letter back on the nightstand. Only until I find out what’s going on, I assured myself, and then slowly began unbuttoning my dress.

I could feel my heart racing as I pulled my arms from their sleeves and pushed my dress down, first baring my chest, then struggling slightly to get it over my hips. Knowing that an unknown man was watching me, turned me on more than I’d expected. I’d never had many exhibitionistic fantasies before, but I couldn’t deny that I was slightly aroused as I stood there in just my underwear, knowing someone was watching me.

Nervously I looked at the letter on the nightstand. It had simply said ‘take off your clothes’, was this it, or did it mean everything? The more I thought about it, about this situation, the room I was in, the blindfold, the more certain I became that it wanted me to strip completely naked.

To give myself a bit more time, I took off my shoes first, placing them under the chair on which I’d hung my dress. It wasn’t long however, before I had no more excuses. Part of me expected the phone to ring again, and the deep voice urging me to continue. The man behind the camera however seemed to be patient, and somehow that impelled me to go on, as if I needed to reward that patience.

I took of my bra first, simply unhooking the strap at the back, bearing my breasts. I placed it on the chair with my dress and shoes. My hands moved up instinctively, ready to cover my bosom from the unseen eyes. I had to make a conscious effort to keep them down, but was instantly rewarded with a surge of arousal as I could almost feel the stranger’s eyes on my body.

The last thing I was wearing were my panties, a white thong with a bit of lace, fitting snugly between my buttocks so that they wouldn’t be visible through my dress. Being seen in them was quite intoxicating already, something I’d usually reserve for a third date or later. Taking them off would be … unthinkable in this situation.

Well, it would’ve been if I wasn’t feeling so aroused. For some reason I wasn’t thinking straight. There was no reason for me to be doing this. Curiosity? What was there to be curious about, it was quite obvious what was going on here … and that was highly exciting. So exciting in fact, that I didn’t hesitate to pull my panties down, baring myself completely to whomever was watching.

Completely naked I stood in that room, looking around myself. I could leave any time I wanted, that man on the phone had assured me. That had been a big reason why I had dared to go through with this, knowing that this was completely voluntary.

Then finally, when I’d gathered all my courage, I picked up the blindfold and pulled it over my head, ready for my next set of instructions.

I stood there, blind, naked, vulnerable, wondering what was next. Another phone-call perhaps? Hopefully I wasn’t just supposed to know what I was meant to do now, I had no idea what my roommate might have planned or agreed to.

 

A short while later, I heard the door to the hotel-room open. I took a deep breath and held it. Someone was in the room, I could hear their footsteps coming closer.

My heart was racing, goosebumps appeared all over my skin. Completely exposed and blind to whomever had just entered, I felt utterly vulnerable. What were they going to do? What had Sarah promised them?

“I’m glad you stayed, Sarah,” A deep, warm voice suddenly said, from much closer than I’d anticipated. A chill ran up my spine. “Now get on your knees and wait like a good girl while I make further preparations for our date.”

I blushed at his commanding tone, but recognized the voice from the phone. With him in the room with me now, I felt like there was nothing else I could do but obey, so I knelt down on the floor.

“Relaxed, but with a straight back, young lady, you can let your hands rest on your knees,” the man instructed, “Good, that’s it.”

I blushed as I followed his instructions, feeling instinctively that some form of submission was expected from me. For some reason this turned me on almost as much as being completely naked in a small room with a stranger.

As I sat there, I could hear he was doing something, but I couldn’t make out what. Rummaging in bags perhaps, walking around the room. I had no idea what was going on. He wasn’t undressing, was he? Maybe he was just as naked as me? Or he was fully dressed, maybe wearing something casual, like jeans and a simple t-shirt, or maybe he wore a suit, some nice, dressed pants and a fancy jacket. I couldn’t decide what I wanted more, if he was fully naked, there would be no mistake to what he planned to do with me, but if he was fully dressed, that only heightened the contrast between my vulnerable state and his control over the situation.

“Hold out your hands,” the voice suddenly commanded from right in front of me.

I raised my arms and held out my hands. I was still nervous, but the long wait had made me yearn for something to happen and in my exposed yet aroused state, I’d hoped that something would be exciting.

He then took my hands into his, I could feel the rough skin of his palms against mine, reminding me of my nudity and at the same time proving that he was really in the room with me. “Stand up,” he ordered.

I let the stranger help me to my feet. My knees hurt from sitting on them, yet it didn’t bother me, it almost seemed fitting. I wanted to ask what was next, but was too nervous to speak.

“Ready to begin?” he asked.

I licked my lips, the promise I’d made myself – that I’d leave as soon as I found out what this was about – I’d long forgotten. “Yes,” I replied.

“Yes, sir,” he instantly corrected me.

I blushed, realizing I’d been right about the expected dynamics of this interaction. “Yes, sir,” I repeated, wondering for a moment whether my roommate was really into this kind of thing… I couldn’t blame her, for I couldn’t deny that it was turning me on as well.

“Keep your hands in front of you, hold them up like this,” the man instructed.

I nodded, holding my arms up as he let go of my hands. He moved away for a second, I couldn’t hear him, but felt the wind as he passed me. More goosebumps appeared on my arms and legs as I realized how closely he moved around my naked, exposed body.

Then I felt him wrap something around my wrists, cool and smooth, leather I realized, as I felt him pull it taut around my wrists. Some kind of shackles, I imagined. Experimentally I tried to spread my arms, but as I thought, they were firmly tied together. Turns out that if I wanted to leave at any time, I’d have to ask to be untied first. Though if I’m being honest, the thought of leaving hadn’t crossed my mind in quite a while.

“Sit down, please,” the stranger commanded.

Obediently I sank back down on my knees.

“Not on your knees, on the bed,” the deep voice explained.

I blushed, tried to get back up and almost tumbled over as I wanted to push myself up with my tied-up hands. The stranger caught me as I fell, one of his hands on my shoulder and the other grabbing my forearm in a firm grip. I could feel how strong he was, but his hands on my skin reminded me even more of how naked I was. Blushing even deeper I let him pull me up to my feet and guide me to sit down on the bed behind me.

“Now lay down on your back,” he commanded.

Nervously I licked my lips. If he wanted me laying on the bed, there was only one thing he could be planning to do with me, right? Yet I was too excited to turn back now. I carefully rolled onto my back, feeling the soft sheets against my bare skin.

I listened to his footsteps as the stranger walked around the bed, wondering how he was going to do it, how was he going to take me? Would he tie me up even more? Or would he just have his way with me now that my hands were out of his way?

Suddenly he grabbed my arms by the wrists and pulled them above my head. With a strong tug, he yanked me towards him. I squealed in surprise as he pulled me further onto the bed.

“Turn around,” the stranger commanded, seemingly unperturbed by my surprised yell, or sudden nervous breathing, “Head to the top of the bed, feet towards the bottom.”

With a slight blush I realized he’d just wanted to move me to the middle of the bed. Hampered by the shackles around my wrists, I rolled, struggled, and squirmed until I lay – as I thought – perfectly down the center.

I lay still for a moment, trying to regulate my nervous, excited breathing, until I suddenly felt the mattress beneath me shift under the weight of someone joining me on the bed. Now holding my breath, I waited to feel his touch.

I was surprised to feel his hand, not on my breasts, my thighs, or other erotic centers, but at my feet; but then I recognized the familiar cool touch of leather as he secured more restraints, now around my ankles.

Once again, I experimentally tried to spread my legs, but was surprised this time that the cuffs did not hold them fast together. I blushed, wondering whether the stranger had been watching me, noticing me spreading my legs for him before I quickly closed them.

Then I heard the faint rattling of chains and realized what those restraints were really for. The invisible man joined me on the bed again and this time – as he secured the chains to the cuffs around my ankles – he spread my legs for me, exposing me completely as he pulled my legs wide, securing the chains to the corners of the bed.

Suddenly, I gasped as something very cold lay across my chest. I blushed, as I could feel him pull this third chain teasingly across my body. I wondered for a short second what this one was for, but quickly found out as he secured it to the cuffs around my wrists and then pulled my arms up over my head and secured the chain to the head of the bed.

“Is that tight enough?” he suddenly asked.

I blushed, tight enough for what? I wondered, “Yes, sir,” I replied, not sure what else I was supposed to say.

“Try to get free,” the stranger said, “See if you can get loose or turn over.”

I felt him get off the bed, to give me room to try and escape. I pulled on my arms and legs, testing my restraints, trying to roll-over, but I could barely move off the spot I was lying on.

“Come on, you can do better than that,” the man said, “I want to see you struggle, like you really want to escape.”

I blushed, but did as he requested, pulling and turning as hard as I could, thrashing back and forth, but the chains didn’t give any more leeway.

“That’s it,” the stranger said, “Now there’s nowhere for you to go, I’ve got you fully under my control.”

I could feel my blush deepening, my heart pounding in my throat as I suddenly remembered how to feel nervous. Tied down, naked, legs spread wide, perfectly laid out for this stranger to fuck me. Any moment now I’d feel him on top of me, inside me, … I could feel the hot burn of my arousal between my legs betraying how much this excited me.

The matrass shifted beneath his weight again as the man joined me on the bed. Surely, I’d feel his touch on my body any moment now.

“This is a massage oil and lubricant,” the man said, showing me something I couldn’t see, “It will make your skin nice and smooth, shiny and slippery, but most importantly, extra sensitive to my touch.”

I licked my lips, but before I could ask anything, I suddenly felt his hands on my belly. I bit my lips, fighting against my arousal as I felt the stranger’s touch on my body. The oil was warm beneath his fingers and he spread it liberally over my belly, thick and sticky.

Slowly his hands made his way up my body. I moaned softly when he cupped my breasts, finally enduring the intimate touch I’d been anticipating all this time. His hands teased me, squeezing and twisting as he spread the oil. He moved up over my chest, but then back down to my breasts, as if he couldn’t get enough of them, playing with them as I could feel the warm oil opening my pores, making me more and more vulnerable to his touch. My nipples were erect with arousal, and he took them between his thumb and forefinger, playing, squeezing, pulling on them until I moaned and squealed. Then he moved on, his warm hands on my chest, over my collarbones and onto my throat, squeezing slightly, making it just a tad harder to breath as he spread the oil under my chin.

Then he moved down again, lingering over my breasts, taking his time, and then moving down further, past my belly, onto the mound above my pussy. I moaned deeply, unable to escape his touch, my legs spread wide by the chains, completely exposed. He passed my innermost vulnerable spot and spread the oil over my upper legs, my hips and down past my knees. When he reached the cuffs around my ankles, he moved up again, on the inside of my legs this time, massaging the soft flesh of my inner thighs until they were trembling, sensitive and hot. Only then, as my upper body was almost fully covered in oil – the parts he could reach anyway – did his hands slip between my legs, cusping my pussy, his sticky oily fingers playing with my lips, spreading the lubricant before pushing inside of me.

I moaned, pulling on my restraints, not to escape, but because I couldn’t handle how aroused I was.

Then, he pulled his hands away. I was breathing loudly, my chest heaving, my pussy throbbing. “Please, don’t stop,” I said.

There was a short silence before he replied. “No talking, young lady,” the stranger said teasingly, “Remember, you’re not allowed to speak unless spoken to.”

I blushed deeply, once again reminded of the submissive stance I was supposed to take. I wondered what other rules my roommate had agreed to before arranging this date.

Suddenly a sharp pain blossomed on my inner thigh as the stranger smacked it with the palm of his hand.

I squealed in surprise and then moaned deeply. “I’m sorry, sir, I forgot,” I replied.

Another smack landed on the other side and I squealed again, my thighs extra sensitive due to the oil he’d applied.

“Don’t do it again,” the main replied threateningly.

I moaned softly, somehow the pain felt good, tingling and hot between my legs, it turned me on even further. Normally I’d never let a man hit me, but this was different, hot and exciting. “Yes, sir,” I promised.

Another smack landed on my inner thigh for good measure, and a fourth to balance it out. I moaned deeply, happily accepting this pain that somehow felt good, rather than bad.

Then, I could feel him move, grabbing something from all the things he’d seemingly prepared when I’d been kneeling on the floor, waiting. The next thing I felt was something small and sharp, pressed against my skin just underneath my ribs. Many small and sharp things actually, arranged on some kind of tiny wheel that he rolled up and down my body. The stinging, prickling sensation travelled down my belly, leaving a trail of tingling, sensitive skin. I moaned deeply when the indescribably sensation moved back up and reached my bosom, the tiny needles digging into the soft tissue of my breasts, not puncturing it, but leaving behind a sharp sting in its trail.

Tied up and unable to escape, I had no choice but to endure this torture, this hot, stinging, pleasurable pain that traveled slowly, teasingly across my upper body, my chest, my breasts, circling my nipples teasingly, and then down to my hips, and the soft sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I moaned and squirmed, but the restraints around my wrists and ankles kept me firmly tied down.

The stranger did not speak while he played with me, the path of his implement teasing me without the need of words. The room was silent except for my moans and labored breathing. I liked this, there was no reason to talk, no need for dirty words, I was there, naked, vulnerable, tied up and completely under his control for him to play with. What else needed to be said? For a while I could even forget that he was there, forget where I was or who was there with me, and focus purely on myself, my body and the stinging yet pleasurable sensations against my skin.

Then the prickling implement disappeared. I felt like not an inch of my exposed body had been spared its stinging touch, my whole body now even more sensitive to his touch.

Then something else was pressed against my leg, smooth and cool like the leather around my wrists, but much smaller. The small strip of leather slowly moved across my skin, gently stroking my inner thigh. As it was pushed deeper between my legs I could feel something else, something hard and strong, but narrow and flexible, with the leather strap connected at its tip. I licked my lips as I suddenly realized what it was, a riding crop, usually used for horse-riding or – as in this case – by people who are into some really kinky stuff.

I bit my lip, slightly nervous now, but the vision of a man towering above me, holding a riding crop in his hand as I lay there, tied up, naked and vulnerable, was so hot that I could not protest. Not that I was allowed to anyway, I reminded myself. And remembering the stinging yet arousing pain of when he’d spanked my inner thighs, I could only imagine that being hit with this would feel just as exciting.

Then suddenly the sound of leather hitting flesh sounded and at the same time a bright spot of pain blossomed on my inner thigh. I moaned deeply, my hands pulling instinctively on their bonds, either to rub and sooth the stinging skin or to protect it from further assault. Tied up behind my head however, they were unable to defend me.

The stranger teased me, using the tip of the riding crop to caress my body before flicking it down quickly against my sensitive skin, leaving behind a tiny, burning spot. He focused on my inner thighs at first, but then worked his way up, over my hips, my belly and finally the tender skin of my bosom. I squealed as the riding crop bit sharply into the soft flesh of my breasts. My whole body felt like it was covered in tiny lumps of burning coal, small hot spots spread over my body. When one of those coals died down, he’d quickly replace them, no longer focusing on just one area of my body, but switching freely between them: chest, belly, legs, … Sometimes he’d teasingly caress a spot before bringing down the pain, and sometimes there was no warning so that I had no idea when or where the next swat was coming.

I was breathing loudly, moaning and squirming beneath this torture, yet the pain was never too much, it always seemed to balance on the edge of painful and pleasurable. The sting burned and yet it felt good at the same time. I struggled against my bonds, not to fight or break free, but because I had no other way to deal with the sting, the burn, the arousal.

At some point, the stranger stopped and asked, “Are you alright, Sarah?”

I’d blushed, I’d almost forgotten I’d taken my roommates place in this date, I almost preferred it when he called me young lady. “I’m alright, sir,” I replied breathlessly.

“Your face seems very red, perhaps you’re a bit hot,” the man continued, “Perhaps you’d like to cool down a little?”

I licked my lips, if I was hot, it was because he’d been setting my skin on fire, “That’d be nice, sir,” I replied, keeping my bratty response to myself.

There was a short movement that indicated to me that he’d done away with the riding crop and perhaps grabbed something else. What would he use to cool me down, I wondered, or was he just giving me some time to rest?

Then suddenly I squealed as something icy cold dripped down my chest. I gasped, breathing in deep as freezing cold water seemed to trickle onto my chest and down my neck.

Then even colder, he pressed something against my bosom, frigid and hard, cold water running off it between my breasts. I squealed softly as he rubbed this thing – an ice-cube I presumed – over my chest, circling my breasts, closer and closer to my nipples which were now erect with the cold.

His fingers were warm in comparison to the ice, but his touch made my skin shiver, and goosebumps appeared all over my body as he cooled down my stinging, burning skin with the frigid ice in his hand. His icy cold touch traveled down my body, the cold water running down the side of my torso as he ran it over my belly, but even colder was it when he pushed the cold ice between my legs, the water running down my thighs, onto the sheets beneath me and then the freezing ice pressed against my pussy, my lips which were burning with arousal spread open by its cold.

He pushed the cube of ice up, up against my clit, the most sensitive spot of my body, I couldn’t handle it, I screamed, this was too much, but before I could say anything, before I could protest, he pushed two of his fingers inside. My body trembled, I moaned uncontrollably as his fingers curled up inside of me, finding the pleasure center as his thumb kept the ice-cold cube pressed firmly between my lips, against my protesting, throbbing pussy. I squealed again as the climax took over, my body shaking in its restraints, arms and legs pulling against the chains. Until it stopped, the ice melted, its cold water mixed with my own juices in a puddle beneath my legs, slowly seeping into the sheets.

“Did you just have an orgasm, Sarah?” the stranger asked.

I licked my lips, I didn’t know whether that classified as just an orgasm anymore, I’d never felt anything like it before, “Yes, sir,” I moaned excitedly, wanting him to feel proud for what he’d just done to me.

“And do you remember the rules, young lady?” the man asked, “You’re not allowed to cum without permission.”

I blushed, I wasn’t allowed to what? Surely the whole point of that was to… To play with me, I realized, to torture me and push me to the edge, to put him in control and make me beg… “I’m sorry sir, I forgot,” I replied, though in fact I had never known. How many more rules had my friend agreed to that I didn’t know about? I wondered.

The stranger chuckled. “You forgot? Well, that’s no excuse, young lady. You broke the rules, so now you’ll have to bear the consequences.”

I bit my lips nervously, still blindfolded, I could not see whether he was angry or playful, whether breaking this rule was a big deal, or part of the game. Yet I could only assume it would be okay. Sarah would’ve never agreed to anything bad, even if she broke a rule… In fact, would my friend have been able to control herself in this situation? Would she really have been able to control herself and fight off all that pleasure? No, surely she’d be in the exact same position as I was right now, this was all just part of the game.

As these thoughts ran through my mind, I could feel the stranger taking off the restraints around my ankles. I wanted to pull up my legs, feel the freedom, but obediently kept them down, not moving while he worked, so that I would not get in his way and not get myself into any more trouble.

“Move up a bit,” the man commanded.

I used the chain that still connected my wrists to the head of the bed to pull myself up. Then suddenly the man grabbed me by the hips and rolled me over so that I lay across his knee with my bottom up.

 

I blushed deeply as I instantly realized what was about to happen. Then, before I could really prepare myself for it, his hand landed with a sharp smack across my bottom.

I moaned deeply, part of me was suddenly embarrassed that I was about to be spanked like a naughty girl; but a much bigger part was deeply aroused, arching my back, sticking out my bottom, welcoming the pain of my punishment.

“Do you remember your safe-word, Sarah?” the invisible man asked.

I bit my lip, I had no idea what Sarah’s safe-word was, but the fact that he now reminded me she had one, made me nervous. Apparently, he thought I might need it. It wouldn’t be that bad, would it?

“No sir, I don’t remember,” I replied, risking that he might find out that I wasn’t who I said I was, but I didn’t dare take this punishment without it.

There was a short pause as the stranger gently caressed my backside, his touch hesitant.

“I’m sorry, you’re making it hard for me to think straight,” I said.

The man chuckled, “The word you chose was Mittens,” he replied.

I couldn’t help but grin, it was really typical of Sarah to choose her cat’s name as a safe-word… “Thank you, sir,” I quickly replied.

“Don’t thank me yet, young lady,” he replied, and then raised his hand.

He spanked me hard and fast, his hand raining down on my behind, bouncing off my bottom. I moaned and squealed as the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the room.

I’d never been spanked before and my backside was quickly hot and burning. I wondered if my roommate had done this before and perhaps with a bit of experience came more tolerance. For me however, the pain in my backside was intense. Luckily, with my ankles unrestrained, my legs were free to kick and my feet allowed to drum against the mattrass.

My poor bottom was on fire when the stranger finally paused, placing his hand gently on my throbbing backside. “I love it when I get a good reaction out of a spanking,” he said.

I blushed, not sure how to react when someone praises you for taking a punishment. Instead of replying, I focused on the soft touch of his hand, the gentle caress that took away some of the pain and brought with it the excitement that had been hiding secretly underneath.

It wasn’t long however, before he raised his hand again. I bit my lips, for the first time wondering what I’d gotten myself into. What was I doing here? Why had I come, why had I stayed? Why was I letting this stranger do this to me?

The next few swats didn’t come down fast however, but slow and deliberate. The palm of his hand, fingers spread, fully covering my buttocks as he alternated left and right. Each one hard and firm, I could feel my bottom bouncing from the impact, the sound echoing in the room, the pain rippling through my buttocks and settling deep underneath my skin. Yet with each swat the arousal increased, a slow burning sensation between my legs that gradually grew hotter and hotter.

This pain, like the pain before, felt good, felt right. I deserved this, I’d been a naughty girl. I’d broken the rules, and not just those rules I didn’t know about, I’d lied about who I was, pretended to be someone else. This was what I got for impersonating my friend, I couldn’t take the good things without the bad, not the pleasure without the pain.

I grunted and moaned, arched my back and raised my bottom for more. Yet with each smack the pain in my backside increased, the stranger’s hand stoking the fire. I whimpered and squealed and yet there seemed to be no end in sight as my punishment continued.

“Please, sir,” I begged, “I’ll be good, I promise, it won’t happen again.”

“You’re not allowed to talk, unless spoken to, young lady,” the man reminded me.

I blushed, and suddenly the intensity of my punishment increased again. The smacks now coming quick and fast, just like at the start, but now on my already hot and sore backside. All because I’d already forgotten the only rule I’d known before.

I squealed and moaned, my legs kicking helplessly, until he pushed me down, wrapping one of his legs around mine to keep them in check. Restrained once more, I could do nothing but accept my punishment, his hand raining down on my backside, and I wasn’t even allowed to plead or beg for mercy.

My bottom was a bonfire, rivaled only by the fire of arousal between my legs. I wasn’t sure how much more I’d be able to take. Again and again his hand connected with my throbbing, burning skin. I couldn’t believe how much I’d taken already, what I’d let this man do to me. I had a safe-word, I could stop this at any time I wanted. Each smack across my backside, each squeal that escaped my lips, had been preventable. So why didn’t I? Why was I letting this continue, why didn’t I put a stop to this pain? I wasn’t even supposed to be here, this was Sarah’s idea, not mine.

Then, he finally stopped, though even the gentle caress of his hand felt like punishment against my sensitive, burning skin. I kept quiet, whimpering softly, hoping not to elicit more discipline and that this truly was the end, and not a short pause before my punishment continued.

“Have you learned your lesson, young lady?” the stranger asked.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, eager to convince him that I’d indeed had enough. I was still deeply aroused, but not sure whether my poor bottom could take more punishment, even if it felt good.

He then pushed me off his knee, his weight leaving the bed.

I lay there waiting, wondering, what would happen next? Would he continue playing with me like he had before? Teasing me? Torturing me? I wanted to feel his touch again, not to spank me, but to caress my aching, trembling body.

When he joined me on the bed again, I felt his hands on my lower back, spreading a warm, sticky liquid, the same oily lubricant he’d used on my chest, my belly and thighs. I moaned softly as he spread this across my back before moving down to my bottom. Feeling his hands on my burning red skin felt painful and pleasurable at the same time as the oil both soothed the pain in my backside, and made it more sensitive.

“It better not happen again,” the man said, “Because next time it’s going to be a whole lot worse, with your bottom already red and oiled up.”

I bit my lip, enjoying the pain of his squeezing, kneading hands, while nervously imagining how much it might hurt if he’d spank me now.

“Can I ask a question, sir?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t breaking the no-talking rule since he’d been talking to me.

The man chuckled for a moment, “Alright, I’ll give you permission to speak, but only until I’m done oiling up this perfect, cute tushy of yours.”

I blushed slightly, accepting such compliments while I lay there naked and tied up, submitting to a man I didn’t know, who I couldn’t even see. “Could you remind me of all the rules, please?” I asked, “It’s much harder to think than I’d imagined.”

The stranger chuckled even louder. “That’s a great idea, Sarah. I’m sure that your freshly spanked bottom will help you remember them better.” He continued massaging my backside as he spoke, the sting reminding me of what would happen if I broke the rules he told to me. “You already know you’re not allowed to speak, unless spoken to,” he began, “And that you’re not allowed to orgasm without permission…”

I moaned deeply, I’d never imagined that having rules could be something sexy, but now, being told what I was and wasn’t allowed to do, learning what I was submitting myself to, combined with my sore, spanked backside being intimately massaged, my arousal surged.

“The number one rule of course is that you’re to follow my instructions and obey my commands,” the stranger continued, “You’re also not allowed to take off your blindfold at any point; and lastly you must behave in a way that’s polite, obedient and respectful.”

I grunted softly, pushing up my bottom for more of his attention. I could be obedient, I told myself, I could be respectful. In fact, I’d been perfectly polite this entire time, I hadn’t made any cheeky or bratty remarks, which surprised me slightly, for I knew I could be a brat at times. Even without knowing the rules, I’d somehow known how I was supposed to act in this situation.

“Did you get all that, young lady?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, putting more emphasis on his title than before.

“Good,” he said, “Now before we continue having fun, you’re going to have to prove to me that you can be a good girl.”

I blushed slightly, wondering how I could prove such a thing, but at the same time eager to show him that I was.

“Sit up, please,” he said, and I could feel him unhook the chain from the shackles around my wrists.

Freed from all the chains, with just the leather around my wrists left, I pushed myself up onto my knees.

“Off the bed, and on your knees, like at the start,” the stranger commanded, “but be careful.”

I slowly made my way to the edge of the bed, feeling his hand on my shoulder as he guided me. Then I knelt down beside the bed like before, back straight, hands on my knees.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” the man commanded me.

I blushed, but the number one rule was to obey his instructions. I opened my mouth, knowing what most likely was coming.

I felt the tip of his cock, placed onto my tongue.

“Suck it.” The stranger commanded.

My blush deepened, but I obediently took his cock deeper into my mouth, sucking on it, massaging it with my tongue and lips. I wanted to feel him inside me, to thank him for the pleasure he’d brought me, to satisfy him.

Still blindfolded, I could not see his reactions, but I could hear his soft groans, I could feel his cock trembling between my lips, I could feel his heartbeat on my tongue.

He grabbed my hair with one hand, firmly at the back of my neck, keeping me in place even though I had taken him into my mouth without protest. He just held me there, not pushing or forcing me down. He did not thrust his hips or force his cock down my throat, but let me do the work, gently bobbing my head, using my lips and tongue to please him. Everyone can get fucked in the face, but it takes a good girl to make a blowjob an act of servitude.

It didn’t take long before his trembling cock filled my mouth with his cum. The stranger moaned deeply as I swallowed his juices, licking off every last drop he offered me.

“That’s a good girl,” he finally said as he stepped away.

I blushed, but couldn’t help but smile as I sat there on the floor. I hardly felt the dull ache in my knees, or the still burning sting in my bottom as I focused on the lingering touch of him inside my mouth.

“Stand up,” he said, “Let’s have some fun.”

I eagerly got up, not caring that I was naked, or blind, while in a room with a complete stranger. I just wanted to be a good girl for him, and let him make me moan and squirm and squeal.

 

My hands in front of me, still tied together by my wrists, I stood there, body warm, skin sticky wet with oil, bottom burning, knees aching, breasts sensitive from his torture, licking my lips to remember his taste.

Then I could feel him place something around my neck, supple and rough, some kind of rope.

I bit my lips excitedly. Was he going to tie me up even further?

The man pulled the rope down the front of my body, between my breast and against my belly. I could feel some harder pressure points at regular intervals, which I believed to be some knots.

He pulled the rope between my legs and I moaned softly when he pressed it firmly against my pussy and pulled it up between my buttocks. The rope went all the way up my back, where he pulled it through the loop he’d made around my neck, pulling the rope more snugly between my buttocks than any pair of thongs I owned.

He then split the rope in two, wrapping it around my body back-to-front to-back, crisscrossing my chest and my belly. Each time he looped it through the length of rope down the front and then pulled it back, I could feel the rope harness growing tighter, fitting my body more firmly.

When he made the final knots in my lower back, securing the ends of the rope, I could feel it digging into my skin across my breasts and my hips, whilst pulled tautly over my pussy and between my buttocks.

“Now back to the middle of the bed,” the man commanded.

I took a few small steps back until I felt the bed behind me, feeling the rope against my skin with each step. Carefully I laid down and took my position on the bed. The sheets felt wet and sticky, from the oil, the molten ice-cube and my own juices.

“Hands above your head”, he ordered.

I raised my hands above my head, feeling him reattach the chain so that I was unable to escape.

I could feel my heart beating in my chest, wondering which toys he was going to use on me now, as I lay there tied up and horny. Yet it wasn’t the prickling touch of that wheel, nor that threatening strip of leather at the edge of his riding crop, nor the cold touch of ice that I felt next. It was the warm, wet touch of his tongue as he pressed his face into my neck.

I moaned softly as I welcomed this touch, his tongue caressing my throat, his lips kissing me intimately, his mouth sucking until it surely left a mark on my delicate skin.

I whimpered softly. Until now he’d played with me with his toys, using nothing more than his hands. Even when I’d sucked his cock, it had felt like there had been some distance between us. It was almost like the blindfold had protected me, kept me in a separate world.

Now he was bridging that distance, pressing his body against mine as he explored me with his mouth. I could feel his skin against mine and realized he was as naked as I. I imagined he’d taken his clothes off when he’d made me kneel before proving to him that I could be a good girl.

With his naked body against mine, his lips now on my breasts, kissing, sucking my nipples, I could feel that he was building up towards the final act, he’d take me fully, and fuck me.

I moaned deeply, completely under his control, horny, willing, tied up and vulnerable. I wanted him to take me, to have his way with me. I squealed when his teeth sank into my breasts. He bit me and I moaned because the pain felt oh so good.

He worked his way down my body, his lips and tongues following the rope that dug into my skin. I wondered whether he wasn’t bothered by the taste of the oil, but imagined most of it must’ve rubbed off as I’d lain across his lap for my punishment.

When he reached my pussy, after kissing and licking my inner thighs, he moved back up without giving it any attention. I groaned deeply, I wanted to feel him inside me, his tongue, his cock, it didn’t matter.

Then suddenly, I could feel the weight of his body leave me. I lay there alone, my body trembling, aching to be fucked. What more did he want to do with me? I wondered. What other ways of torture had he planned before he’d finally do it?

“Lift up your legs, Sarah,” the stranger commanded me.

I licked my lips, raising my legs obediently, spreading them, presenting him with a hole to stick his cock in.

“Feet on the bed, just bend your knees,” he told me.

I put my feet back down, spreading my legs as far as I could as I pulled my feet up against my buttocks.

Then suddenly I heard a sound I hadn’t heard before, something vibrating.

I blushed, I didn’t want a toy, I wanted him, but I wasn’t allowed to protest.

The vibrating got louder as he joined me back on the bed. I moaned softly as he grabbed the rope that crossed my belly and pulled it down, making it dig into my skin all over my body. He then tucked the vibrating toy between my legs, keeping it in place with the rope, pulling it snugly between my lips, grinding against my clit as it vibrated.

I moaned deeply, biting my lips, unable to take the sudden amount of pleasure overwhelming my body.

The stranger then pressed his body against mine again, placing his mouth on top of my breasts, sucking my nipple inside.

I groaned as he kissed and licked while the toy relentlessly brought its pleasure. I squealed when he bit me, sucking on the soft flesh of my breasts.

My body was trembling, I couldn’t fight off the waves of pleasure.

“Remember, young lady,” the man said, “You’re not allowed to climax.” He’d now taken one of my nipples between his fingers, pulling on it teasingly.

I whimpered and squirmed, I knew what he was doing, knew he wasn’t going to stop. He was going to make me cum and then punish me again. He was doing it on purpose. It wasn’t fair and yet… That made it only more exciting.

“Remember, what happens,” he said, his hand now running down my body, cupping the vibrating toy, pressing it against me before pushing his fingers inside of me, “If you break the rules I will have to punish you again.”

I squealed, gasping for air, but as the word punish reached my ears, my body gave in, shaking uncontrollably as the orgasm to control.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” the man said, “Naughty girl.”

But I could barely hear him, my body trembling, the toy trapped behind the ropes, his fingers inside of me, fucking me even whilst he berated me.

“I’m sorry,” I screamed, “I’m sorry,” no longer able to take the intense pleasure between my legs.

Then suddenly it was gone. I sighed a breath of relief as the toy was plucked from between my legs.

“Naughty girl,” the man said again, “Roll over.”

I blushed, but obediently rolled over. The next time was going to be worse, he’d warned me. My backside was still stinging from my previous punishment, my bottom sticky and sensitive from the oil, though a lot of it had already rubbed off on the sheets. Yet I couldn’t help but feel excited as I nervously awaited the first swat across my backside.

It didn’t come, not right away. First the stranger undid the knots un my lower back, pulling away the rope he’d tied me up with.

“On your knees,” he ordered me.

Kneeling on the bed, head buried into the pillows as my arms were still tied to the head of the bed, I felt him pulling the rope off my body. Where the rope pulled away, my skin burned softly as blood rushed back to it.

He worked slowly, taking his time, making me wait, knowing what was soon to come. Finally, when all the rope was gone from my body, he ordered me to lay back down.

Nervously, excitedly I laid down. I’d never been spanked before, and now twice in one evening I’d be punished like a naughty girl. I loved it. I didn’t know why, but also didn’t know why I’d never tried it before. It was so hot… So exciting… And yet so nervously frightening as well.

The stranger placed his hand on my bottom and I pushed it up, showing him that I was ready for my punishment.

Mittens, a voice in my head said, remember, the safe-word is Mittens. But I knew I wasn’t going to need it. I deserved this punishment. It hadn’t been fair, he’d made me fail on purpose, and yet, those were the rules I’d agreed to, so these were the consequences I’d have to accept.

Then his hand landed across my bottom, hard and fast. I moaned and squirmed as the stranger spanked me, the sound of his hand connecting with my backside echoing in the hotel-room.

I groaned, burying my face into the pillow as the pain in my already sensitive backside quickly built. Yet I did not kick my feet this time, keeping still, accepting my punishment. I knew he’d want such a reaction from me, he’d said as much himself, but I wanted to make him work for it, even if that meant more pain for me.

His hand kept coming, raining down on my poor behind, my buttocks bouncing from the impact as I squealed into the pillow. I hadn’t been able to hold out long, my legs kicking futilely, feet drumming into the mattrass.

Were these really the rules I’d agreed to? I wondered desperately. Not really, this was Sarah’s idea, it was her date, I wasn’t even supposed to be here. I’d never agreed to any of this.

The stranger of course had no idea of these protests in my head, he might not even care if he had, continuing my punishment, spanking my naughty, sore behind.

You did agree to them, a voice in my head said. He told you that you could leave any time you wanted, and then he told you the rules. It was you who decided to stay after that, you accepted those rules when you knelt down on the floor and sucked his cock like a good girl.

I moaned deeply, arching my back, pushing up my bottom as I finally agreed that I deserved this punishment. This might’ve been Sarah’s date at the start, but now it was mine, everything I’d done here today was my own choice, and that meant the consequences were mine as well.

“That’s it,” the stranger suddenly said, “That’s a good girl who’s ready for her punishment.”

I blushed, slightly confused, for soon as I’d stopped kicking my feet, welcoming the pain in my backside, he’d stopped. Ready for my punishment? I wondered, hadn’t it already started?

I could feel the weight shifting on the bed as he stood up, and then felt the touch of dozens of long, narrow strips of leather across my back.

I bit my lip, this wasn’t going to be just a spanking by hand. Then the flogger landed across my behind, a heavy thud slamming into my bottom.

I moaned deeply. This felt good, different from the spanking by hand. I raised my bottom, asking for more. Again and again the dozens of leather strips flailed my behind, a heavy impact combined with the stinging lashes of leather.

I groaned, the flogger had felt good at first, but the pain quickly built up, what had been barely skin-deep until now, went deeper, my entire backside aching, on fire, my bottom burning like a bonfire.

I squealed, cursing myself, believing that I could just take such a whipping, that I could handle such a punishment. I buried my head into the pillow, muffling my screams. Yet I did not stop him, I did not want to end it, for deep inside of me, burning brightly, was my arousal. Dominated, tortured, played with, controlled, punished, all of it, turned me on, aroused me, made me wanting more, not just more of the pleasure, but more of the pain as well.

Then finally, he stopped.

I lay there panting, breathing, all I could feel was the fire in my backside. I could not see, could not hear what he was doing, could not imagine what kind of torture he had in store for me next.

Then I felt his hands on my bottom, I squirmed, those hands were hot and painful against my sensitive skin. I squealed softly when grabbed my thighs for they were hot and red, the flogger had not spared them. He pulled my legs apart, revealing my pussy, dripping wet with arousal despite the pain. Then he thrusted his cock inside of me.

I moaned deeply as he fucked me.

His hips slammed against my sore, red buttocks as he fucked me hard, not caring for my pain as I squealed and moaned.

It didn’t last for long, I don’t think I could’ve taken it if it had. He thrusted his cock as deep as he could, grabbing onto my sore, red buttocks, his body freezing up as he orgasmed, cumming deep inside of me.

He collapsed on top of me. For a moment we just lay there, both of us breathing hoarsely. I kept quiet, trying not to disturb him, enjoying the feeling of having him inside of me.

 

Then, he rolled off of me, his touch gone. I lay there, hands still tied to the head of the bed, body aching, bottom burning. The sheets were wet and sticky with sweat, oil and our juices.

I could hear him getting dressed, part of me realizing that it was over, we’d reached the climax. I didn’t want it to be done yet, but I didn’t think I’d be able to handle more either.

Then finally he sat back down on the bed, releasing my wrists from the chains and then freeing me from my shackles.

“I had a great time, Sarah,” he said.

I blushed, wanting to tell him my real name, “Me too, Sir,” I replied.

“After you hear the door close, you can take off your blindfold,” he said.

My blush deepened, was I really not going to see him, not going to find out who he was?

I heard the hotel-room door open and quickly turned my head, but with my blindfold on, could not see him leave. The door closed and I quickly pulled it off. For a moment I was blinded by the bright lights, but the room was empty.

I shook my head. Perhaps it was for the best, I thought, that he didn’t find out who I really was. That this was just a one-time thing, a unique experience.

I stood up, the room looked just like before, it was almost hard to believe that all that had just happened. Only the bed looked different, the sheets wrinkled and wet.

There was a large mirror built into the wardrobe, when I looked into it, I saw that I was different as well. My hair in disarray, my skin still glistening with oil and sweat, bite-marks on my neck and my breasts, looking closely I could even see the indents the rope had left on my skin, and of course when I turned around, my bottom and thighs showed bright red. I blushed deeply but couldn’t help but think I’d never looked this hot.

I wondered how long this room had been booked for, but I didn’t feel comfortable going outside like this. I didn’t feel like my dress would be able to hide what had been done to me. So I checked the bathroom, deciding to take a quick shower.

I washed the oil and sweat off of me, washing away the touch of the stranger, yet some things I could not wash away, like how I could still feel him inside of me, or taste him on my tongue.

Freshly showered, I returned to the room, eager to get dressed and get out of here before someone else saw me. Then I noticed something I’d missed before.

On the nightstand lay a full, used condom, tied up with a knot. I blushed, a slight feeling of disgust filling me for a second, before realizing he’d left it there on purpose. He’d wanted me to know he’d been safe, that even though he’d been in full control, used me as he pleased, he’d still thought of my safety. I picked it up, strangely enamored by this used condom, then shook my head and quickly threw it in the thrash.

I quickly grabbed my clothes, squirming slightly as I pulled my thong over my sensitive bottom, before pulling on my dress.

I had one last look at the room before I would leave. I blushed as I looked at the bed and the wet sheets, wondering who’d have to clean that up. And the blindfold, I’d just left it there…

I quickly pulled the sheets off the bed and rolled them up into a pile on the floor. I picked up the blindfold, wondering whether I should leave it so that the person who’d placed it here for me could come and get it; but eventually I tucked in into my purse, deciding I wanted to keep it.

I made my way to the door and then wondered. Had the stranger just left, or had he been watching me on the same camera through which he’d seen me arrive? I fought the urge to turn around and wave goodbye, and grabbed the doorhandle, only now seeing there was a note stuck to the door that hadn’t been there before.

It was the note that had instructed me to take off my clothes, but on the back someone had scribbled a phone number. I quickly tucked it into my purse and left.

I called another cab to return home, trying not to squirm in my seat while he drove, ignoring the stinging pain in my backside.

At home I took the blindfold out of my purse and hid it in one of my drawers; tried not to blush while I fed Mittens; then took off my clothes once more and went to bed.

 

In bed, I took my phone and typed in the number on the card, but did not call it. It had to be his, I thought. Tonight had been a unique experience, something amazing, painful but amazing. A once-in-a-lifetime event. And yet, if I called this number, perhaps it didn’t have to be the last time I’d submit to this man.

I thought about him, his strong hands, his warm voice, his commanding tone, his dominant character, his stern composure. I knew nothing about him, and yet I felt like I knew everything. My hands were already between my legs, I couldn’t get enough of him, touching myself while I thought about him, about what he’d done to me, about what else he might do to me if I called this number. I moaned, trembling slightly as I brought myself to orgasm, though it didn’t feel as good as when he’d done it.

I was breathing heavily, the number still on my phone, I pressed call.

“This is Eric,” a familiar warm voice answered.

Eric, so that was his name, I thought.

“Hi Eric,” I replied breathlessly, “It’s Sarah…”

There was a short pause, “Hi Sarah, I wasn’t sure you’d call me. I know we’re not allowed to make contact with our partners.”

I blushed slightly, not sure what to say, I still had no idea how he and Sarah had arranged all this.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, “I know you probably used Anonymous Encounters because you wanted this kind of experience without any strings attached, it’s just… I’ve never had an experience like tonight, you were amazing, I was just hoping that…”

I licked my lips. Anonymous Encounters? A.E.? Was that some kind of service? Had my roommate signed up for something like that? It didn’t seem like Sarah, but then again, everyone had their kinks… I could hardly judge her, after all, I was the one who’d taken her place.

“No not at all,” I replied, “I mean, I’m glad you left me your number.”

“You are?” Eric replied.

“Yes, and…” I blushed, “My real name is Sophie by the way.” It wouldn’t be too weird for someone using that kind of service to use a fake name, I thought.

There was a short pause. “I’d like to see you again sometime, Sophie,” the man said.

I bit my lip, already excited for another meet-up. “Before we do, I have a confession to make, Sir,” I said.

“What is it?” Eric asked.

“I just had another orgasm without permission, Sir.”

I heard him softly chuckle before he replied, “Well, then I guess we’ll have to deal with your naughty behavior next time I see you, young lady.”