| Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal.
This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are
under 18- 21 in some localities If you are underage you must leave
now. If you're and curious, this is not the place to get the
straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange
and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this
stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral
climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories.
They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be
pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so we
can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain,
despair or humiliation. End Sermon.
Spank II - Even Momma Wouldn't Approve
The first time Candy had asked him to spank her, she had him
paddle her leaning over the kitchen table. That most closely resembled
the paddling by Mrs. Stern that had given her this kink.
The first time Candy had asked him to spank her, she had
rewarded him by reaching back and pulling apart the hot, cheeks
and pointing to her anus with a forefinger.
"Fuck me there," she had said. "Make it your naughty girl."
The first time Candy had asked him to spank her was the first
time they had had anal sex. The rapist in Herb's was
loosed and it was the best bundle of sex they had ever had.
It had been good since then, occasionally very good, but they
had never quite recaptured the thrill of that first time. Herb always
expected more from her as penance after her punishment and Candy
could never feel quite as naughty being spanked by the same again.
Neither knew what was missing. Herb didn't know what she
could do to give him that feeling of reward again and Candy couldn't
figure out how to recapture the fear of unknown punishment.
But Herb had a plan. If they couldn't go forward, they might as
quit, he reasoned. And his plan would make them do one or the other.
Candy looked at the address again. This was an unfamiliar part
of town. Herb had sounded so strange over the phone. She thought he
was setting up some special treat for her, but she wasn't sure enough to
try and guess what it was. She was too nervous that there might be
another reason she had been summoned to this valley of abandonded
The stairs were vaguely reminiscent of something, Candy
thought as she took them to the second floor. The upstairs looked like
apartments, but as she passed down the hall she saw each was one
large, open room. Herb was in the fourth room down the hall. It was
the only room with furniture that she had seen, and that was one lone
"Come in," Herb invited her.
Candy's concern shifted from fear that Herb was in some trouble
to the ambiance of the room. It was stark and uncompromising. The
desk brought back thoughts of Mrs. Stern and she was certain she was
in for some special punishment at Herb's hands.
"So at least you came," Herb derided. "I had doubts that it meant
enough to you for you to bother."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused. "I don't know
what you mean."
If he was trying to make her uneasy to increase the adrenalin in
her blood, he was doing a fine job, springing it on her on the middle of
deserted nowhere. If this was a real issue in their relationship, he was a
fucking prick. And he was good enough with his voice inflections and
the stony mask face that she couldn't be sure. But- if this was part of a
special punishment- uneasy was good.
"Look at your record over the last few weeks," he scolded her,
"You've been late, you've been sloppy, you've been inattentive, you've
been brash, bratty and disrespectful. It's gotten worse. It's gotten a lot
worse. It seems that all I have time for is punishing you."
She should have been more attentive to what he said and the way
he said it, but she was lost in her own discoveries. Her senses seemed
more alert than ever. Her focus was not narrowed to the delicious
memory of her first paddling this time. It was not just being naughty that
shortened her breath. She was unsure and being unsure, she was afraid.
She did not have to conjure up that first scene, Herb had placed her
inside it this time.
"And look at you," Herb demended her attention again, "If you
think the slacks are going to stay my hand, think again. In fact, why don't
you get out of them right now."
It was work attire. She could be properly dressed or she could
be on time. Part of her mind recognized the unsolvable dilemma he had
concocted to insure one sin or the other. Mainly she was hurrying out of
the pants to show her willing compliance in hopes of calming his wrath.
That too was a farce, but one that seemed more real than ever
this time. She still could not read his intent. She still did not feel like a
partner in this ritual. She could only follow the preset routine and hope
she was pleasing him.
"Throw them on the floor," he said as she stood with the
offending slacks in her hand.
The place had not been swept in years. The dirt was measurable
on the floor. A cloud blew up when she dropped her pants on the floor.
"Now explain youself," he demanded and then gave her a hint,
"Explain why you have been disobedient at every turn. Explain why there
has been no end to the need to punish you."
Her need to know his intent was at its greatest then. Did he think
her quest for that initial excitement meant she was growing bored with
him? Or was he bored with her? Was this some defining moment- as in
the death- of their relationship? Or was he simply trying something
It made a real difference in the way she should answer him.
Should she tease to draw out his best effort or be honest and try to be
the peacemaker. Did he need goading or amelioration?
"I don't know what to say," she blurted out as her mind swirled
with the possibilities, "What do you want me to say?"
Her appeal fell on deaf ears. A chill closed on her heart as he
would not step from behind the mask to give her a clue. Perhaps he was
serious this time.
"Pull your to your knees," he said.
It was something to do. The growing hysteria of questions could
quiet a little as she acted. It was part of their ritual, but it answered no
questions of his intent for her.
She stood, naked from waist to knees, waiting. Her nudity was
not troubling, but the vulnerability of her naked flesh weighed on her mind.
It seemed she could feel every square inch of skin on her rump prickle
with apprehension of coming torment. And she still didn't know if this
was for real.
"I am deeply that you choose not to share what is going on in
your life," he began. "I did not want to hear my reasons. I wished to hear
your reasons. I can only assume that you have secrets I am not to be
trusted with. And I can only act on the things I have seen without knowing
Candy was ready to cry. He sounded so disappointed. But as
quickly as the tears came, Herb froze them in her eyes with his decree.
"Over the desk." he said.
She did not have to remember Mrs. Stern. She was reliving her
introduction to the cult of the whip.
"Hold up that jacket," he said.
That was more form than function, but it focused her attention on
the full expanse of her butt that was laid open and vulnerable for sacrifice.
She was too confused to think and too filled with emotion to do anything
but dread the coming blows.
"I think ten sharp ones to start," Herb was saying, but it did not
seem he was talking to her. "Then we will ask her again."
The first blow seemed to materialize from thin air as a burst of
pain across her buttocks. It knocked the breath from her lungs and she
was struggling to drag air back in when the next blow fell.
That one burned the sensitized skin as a stroke from a whip.
"It hurts!" she complained into the teeth of the third stroke which
only fed the growing fire in her cheeks.
"Then perhaps you need another five," Herb said evenly.
The blows had become all force and bruising pain as numbness
from the first strokes quieted the stinging burn. But they hurt! And the
abuse of her buttocks drove her tenuous realization into a corner of her
Herb's voice had not come from behind her. She howled as the
blows fell, not able to process this puzzling bit of information. But even
as she begged for the torment to stop, the realization was spreading
beneath her consciousness that they were not alone.
"No more! No more! I'll do whatever you say! Please, no more!"
she begged to no avail as the additional five began.
She was sobbing piteously in the pause after fifteen, waiting a
beat before going to her corner to display the fruits of her disobedience.
"Don't move," Herb said. "Today you will display yourself in the
position you received your badges of mischief."
Her fear had not subsided. She was not in her usual state of
excitement as she showed off her glowing butt. She was chastened and
still crying. It had been so real. She felt so dirty and bad.
And then the chill returned that froze even her self-pity.
"You can fuck her if you want," Herb said.
She remembered the feeling- the observation that had been lost.
She had discounted it, but she could no longer ignore the possibility that
they were not alone.
She could not ignore the insistent presence that pressed against
the entrance to her either. Someone was forcing an entrance into
her. Electricity sparkled down her spine. The unknown had become flesh
and was driving deep into her sheath. She was wretched with the shock
of her realization and shamed beyond bearing to be taken by this
Where could she look for relief? Where was her aid and comfort
as the stranger began to thrust his thickness into her? She was helpless
and ashamed as he slammed against the butt she could only imagine he
had turned beet with the paddle moments before.
Then her traitor sex whispered to her: I'm wetter than I've ever
been. NO. What trick of fate could transform her abject prostration into
the tingle she felt warm her and spread from the evil chink between her
NO. She had no time or breath to cry. Her wicked was
welcoming this cock and forcing her to warm to its thrusting. Her nipples
were pebbles pressed into the surface of the desk. The sound of him
plunging into her wetness was an obscene reminder of her
wanton slut's lust.
NO. She could not! She could not. She could not stop the flush
spreading from her throat across her chest. A moan escaped as the
unyielding cock thrust into her again and again. Her thoughts were
overcome with the horror even as her body trembled at the insistance
of the prick inside her.
YES! Her back arched with the suddness of a click beetle as he
drove her over the inescapable bank into the instinctive spasms of
orgasm. The solid rod jabbed harder inside her as the cool fire spread
through her body and she was lost in the surging sea of release.
Her name was all she could hold onto as she passed through the
special effects realm of scattered consciousness. It was the best orgasm
she could remember. And then her mind reassembled and she was
dropped, cold and wet, as if from the sky, back onto the hard reality of
the desk in the deserted building with a stranger's penis thrusting hard
and fast inside her.
There was an noise from deep in a chest as the penis
swelled and warm wet invaded her private self. The penis thrust a bit
longer and then withdrew. She was no less confused now that it was
"Like a fucking animal," Herb spat in disgust, "You see that? No
self-respect of any kind. Any cock will do. Give me a cock and I'll give
up everything for you."
Again she was bounced from pole to pole as Herb's words
made her sink into the reality of the desk like lead after her fall from the
airy reaches of climax. Only then did she realize she was still clutching the
far edge, her grip on her jacket forsaken in her passion.
He saw her hands flinch as she tried to decide whether to quickly
reach back for the tail of her coat or to freeze where she lay.
"Neither option will win my favor," he said. "I saw that your
self-interest exceeded your duty. Trying to cover your crime because you
are caught will earn you no mercy."
He folded the jacket high on her back with his own hands. She
shuddered at the touch.
"Slut!" he accused and accompanied his rebuke by thrusting two
fingers into her vagina. "Look at this whore leak the wages of her sin."
She jerked as the thrust caught her unprepared. She was on the
edge of tears again as his words beat into her brain. He was right. She
had more than participated in the coupling. And she could imagine the
picture her ass made as the slit below seeped the pearly fluid that
had been forced inside her.
He gave her no mercy. His fingers sluiced in the sludge of her
secretions and the other man's semen and then he wiped them off in the
crack of her ass.
"You dirty whore," he said with feeling.
There was no play in the contact of his hand with her cheek. It
was harder even than he had ever struck in anger before. It struck with
such force that she knew his hand felt the pain along with her backside.
NOOOOOOOO! She wailed as the hand landed as hard again.
A beating on a beating, this time she had no thought of her desire.
There was no consideration that she wished it to be not so. He was
giving her no space to consider. The bruises were being bruised again and
she could do nothing but howl as his hand landed.
He spanked her furiously until she could hear him gasp for breath
between her sobbing moans. It was no game. She was a tear-stained
mass laying across the desk, thinking only of in enough air to
soothe her burning lungs.
She was still that mindless mass when she vaguely sensed him
behind her, fumbling with his pants. She felt his erection prod her. And
then she was jerked again back to another consciousness as her anus
protested against his entrance.
"Unnhh!" was all she could manage on the short notice.
Nominally lubricated by the secretions he had smeared on her
anus before, she was still unprepared and unable to ease his entry. She
wished she still had not noticed and her jerk back could have blunted
some of the pain as he forced the sphincter to open and let his cock
gain a purchase.
"Give it up bitch!" he taunted her, "You offer it and you offer it
all. You want to be a cock holster- open up!"
He lunged and the force bore away all resistance. She felt his
cock slide deep into her rectum. It like he had driven a dry stick up
"No Herb! Not like this!" she begged.
"Take it! Take it and like it, whore!" he thundered and pushed
Incredibly, there was more. What had felt like his full length
jammed into her bowels was in reality little more than half his cock. This
time she felt his belly settle on her ass and an unendurable fullness as his
cock took total possession of her.
He mouth gaped ineffectually in a vain effort to make more room
inside herself. Her brain screamed dire fears of death inside her skull as
it tried to gauge the foreign invasion. This was not the careful, caring anal
sex she had permitted a few times before. She was his and felt helpless
to do anything but endure him using her as he wished.
"Move your slut butt, whore!" he taunted, encouraging her with
a flurry of pummeling slaps on the sides of her ass with his open hands.
She dodged the blows and he pulled back to thrust his cock into
"Keep it up!" he ordered, slowing the slaps to an occasional
reminder as his cock reamed in and out of her tortured ass.
There was nothing she could do. He had her totally. She could
only dance to his smacks and take his hard intrusion deep in her ass.
Her nipples hardened again. Tucked so tight they were a
sensation near pain as they were rubbed over the wood of the desk.
She was his. She was the clay and he would carve her into what image
he chose. The pounding became brutal. He rammed uncaring into her
faster and faster.
And the pain became grace and grace became air. She was
floating toward the sparkling darkness again to be lost in the void.
"NOOOOO! No please! Not now!" she howled as she felt the
flood of his seed in her bowels. "Let me finish! Please God, let me finish!"
"Fucking- shameless- slut," Herb punctuated his denigrations
with spanks as he dug his spent tool into her backside in concert.
And she fell in. She was the dirt beneath a man's foreskin and it
made her cum. She lurched rather than trembled as the climax shook her.
He pulled his cock from her and kept up the spanking and it was enough.
She was twisted on the rhythmic fall of his hand and then fell hard
back to earth.
"Please, I am a slut," she heard her voice begging. "I cannot be
worthy. Use me like trash. I deserve no better."
But Herb didn't hear her meaning, only the sound that came from
her. His dark journey had only begun when he had loosed his brutal load
into her ass in the most gut-wrenching orgasm of his life. He was lost in
the musing over what they had become.
"I'd say that went quite right," came a cooler voice.
"But at what cost? Herb mumbled.
"Now don't go stupid on me," he was berated, "You did the
math in the first place. You told me about the real issues for you two.
You even figured out what would get to them. I think we did that royal
well. You still don't realize what was your problem in the first place, do
"What are you talking about?" Herb asked, irritated to be
interrupted in his matyrdom.
"You gentle up. You crave sin and shame and you pull back from
it as you go. You try to find a nice sin. You look for an acceptable shame.
Let me tell you again- you pretend to sin and you get a pretend climax,"
the other was a trifle irritated himself.
"He's right, Herb," Candy added. "When I don't want another
spanking becaiuse I think I'm bored or past that right now, thank you,
that's exactly when I need the bawling, screaming spanking of my life.
Don't you see? We toy with the edges and when we're just set to get into
the scary part, we stop. We have to be thrown into the fear to get the
kind of satisfaction that escapes the other way."
He had been the devil a moment before. It was all for him, but he
had managed to bring her off. And there was no denying the force of his
orgasm. His legs still were unsteady in the aftermath.
It was a puzzle. And the missing piece was what it would take to
reach this level again. Reality? Did he become the bastard she craved?
There was much to digest.