A designer handbag is all she wants but he desires domination this Christmas. When Patrick breaks up from his girlfriend on Christmas eve he is faced with another Christmas spent all alone. But then he meets Kelly. She is curvy, confident and happily plays Mistress making Patrick’s Christmas dreams come true.
My fantasy was not a complicated one, and maybe I had been lucky in finding such a willing partner, but so far I had not been disappointed. I might have hated that ugly handbag and disliked the shallow woman I’d bought it for, but without it, I would never have met Kelly.
“The turkey is fine,” Kelly’s voice carried across the hall, and she continued to talk as she came closer. “Now to deal with a naughty boy who can’t follow simple instructions.”
Her voice stopped just behind me, and I became aware of the body in close proximity to mine.
“God, you’ve got a lovely arse,” she growled then spanked one cheek with her bare hand. I slumped forward, banging my poor tortured cock against the table. Something thudded onto the table beside me, but before I had time to wonder what it was, more slaps rained down upon my exposed buttocks.
She wasn’t being gentle either. Each slap hurt. I was yelping like a hysterical puppy after a moment or two, and my bottom felt as if it was on fire, but my cock just throbbed with pleasure. I felt close to orgasm without touching myself, and although I begged her to stop, I kept my hands on the table above my head and silently urged her on. I needed to come.
She must have sensed my level of arousal, or it was just cruel coincidence that when I got to just that point before the very pinnacle of pleasure, she stopped spanking me.
“I think you’re enjoying that far too much,” she laughed. “You’re such a dirty pervert. Getting off on a pretty girl punishing you. You’re such a slut.”
My bottom stung, and her words did nothing to stop the arousal flowing through my veins. My cock screamed for release, but I could not move my hands and I didn’t think that talking out of place would get Kelly to help me out of my current predicament. I heard the scrape of something being pulled off the table, then I felt the slap of wood against skin.
“Well, I’ll have to get a proper paddle, maybe a cane too, because I am quite sure this will not be the last time I have to punish you, but for now, this will do.”
I wanted to ask what it was, but I didn’t want to get into even more trouble.
“Ten strokes should teach you your lesson.” She wasn’t talking to me. She was just voicing her thoughts aloud, and the next moment, I screamed out in agony as a heavy square of wood impacted my sore skin. “Oh yes, it works quite well,” she laughed and swung again.
It must have be one of the wooden spatula’s from the kitchen, and each impact made me cry out. It stung, and I had to ball my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching back to protect my bottom. Oh, it was so painful, but that pain in my buttocks suffused my groin with an amazing warmth that made me want to beg for more when she finished her ten strokes.
