Erin’s Spanking – Part 2 [MF] [Spanking] [No sex]

Part 1: [https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/m1srsf/erins_spanking_part_2_mf_spanking_no_sex/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/m1srsf/erins_spanking_part_2_mf_spanking_no_sex/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)

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As he backed away from her, she could feel his eyes taking in her upturned bottom, panties, and bare thighs. She heard him leave the room. What was he up to? The wall was only a few inches from her nose, featureless. There was nothing to do but think about what was coming next. She realized her body was trembling with anticipation that was only partially sexual. Intwined between the sex was the thrill of experiencing something completely new and transgressive: a first kiss, a first drink, a first smoke. She very much wanted to reach her hand beneath her panties and press and rub her fingers against her clit. But Ben’s warning lingered in the air. *If you do not follow these rules there will be consequences.*

After some time, she heard him re-enter the room. “Erin turn around and face me,” he said.

He was seated on the couch, his hands folded in front him. Two wooden kitchen spoons had been placed at the edge of the coffee table. Her heart skipped, and the dampness between her legs crossed to the forefront of her mind. She instinctively reached a hand down to shield herself.

“Erin, did I say you could take your hands off your head?”

“No sir. Sorry sir,” she said, replacing the hand. His gaze shifted to her crotch and thighs, as though he could sense her uncomfortableness, and wanted to pull her deeper into it.

“I’m going to let you off with a warning this time,” he said after a pause, his eyes returning to hers. “But in the future, know that I have ways of dealing with disobedience.”

“Yes sir.”

“Come over here and lie across my lap,” he said. She crossed towards him, knelt on the couch and then lowered herself onto his legs, recoiling momentarily at feeling her hips against his body. It was an intimate touch, and one that she couldn’t believe she was sharing with a stranger. He smelled faintly of soap and sharp deodorant—a distinctly masculine scent. She could feel the slight pressure of his erection pressing through his pants against her hip. So she wasn’t the only one longing for this, she thought.

“All the way over,” he said, placing his hands on her hips and tugging her forward so that her bottom was the most elevated point on her body and placed squarely before him. Her face grew hot at the sense of exposure. He rested his hand on her right cheek, and she could feel the warmth of his palm radiating through the cloth fabric of her panties.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” she said, almost at a whisper.

He took hold of her hip with left hand and pressed his forearm into her back. The first smack landed stiffly against her right cheek. Then the left. Then the right again before settling into a back and forth motion repeating in rhythm as though timed to a metronome. Soon the force of the smacks began to pick up, and the placement began to vary. First one on the outside side of her cheek, then one in the middle, then one in the crease between cheek and thigh that made her jump.

Her bottom began to flush and warm. She became distinctly aware of the parts of her cheeks that the panties didn’t cover; the places where the side of his hand or a finger met bare skin and which had started to sting. She imagined her bottom starting to pinken, imagined him watching it do so.

He paused and took hold of the waistband of her panties with his fingertips. “Let’s get these off. You won’t be needing them for a bit.”

She raised her hips up slightly, allowing him to draw her panties down her thighs and slip them off her feet. Lowering herself back onto him, she felt the open air against her cheeks and with it, a new sense of vulnerability. It occurred to her that while a few men had seen her naked before, no one had ever seen her quite like this.

Ben placed his hand against her cheek again. “You’re starting to get warm,” he said.

“Yes sir.”

The next smack caught her breath away. It was the hardest she had received so far. Another landed. Then another. He was alternating his placements again, catching her on the sides of her cheeks, then in the middle, and at the bottom, the worst being when his hand caught the fleshy bottom of both cheeks at once. He had a habit of lingering at this spot for three or four spanks at a time, landing his palm again and again at the sensitive middle that had started to sting.

She lowered her forehead onto the couch cushion and balled her hands into fists, willing herself to ignore the burning of her skin. The rhythm continued. **smack* *smack* *smack**

She had promised herself that she wouldn’t be one of those silly girls from internet spanking videos who start kicking and screaming and crying from the very first smack. So as Ben spanked her, she resigned herself to sharp inhales of breath to register her pain. However, as the smacks landed—had it been a minute now, two minutes?— a barely audible “*oww-oww-oww*” began to escape her lips.

She wondered whether he was going to give her a break soon. Her bottom stung more than she realized it could. He couldn’t expect her to keep going like this could he? But instead he seemed to increase the pace and force of the smacks. Despite herself, she began to whimper. He seemed not to have heard.

“Oww,” she said aloud. “Oww. That—oww—that really hurts.” She squirmed in discomfort.

He ignored her. *smack* *smack* *smack*

“Okay, okay, okay” she said, wincing in pain and raising her body a little before feeling him force her back down.

“Okay what?” he asked.

“It hurts.”

“I know it hurts, that’s the point.”

“Yes sir, I just didn’t realize–” She didn’t finish her sentence because he delivered a round of heavy smacks. Erin clenched her fists tighter.

“Please sir,” she said, now actively struggling against his hold. “Please give me a little break.”

“Erin who decides when you get a break?”

“Please sir.”

“Who decides?” he asked, bringing his hand down now against her thighs, which registered a new, sharper sting than she had yet experienced.

“Oww oww oww, you do sir,” she said, struggling to form the words as he continued to smack her thighs. “I’m sorry sir.”

“That’s right, I decide when this is over,” he pulled his right leg from under her and crossed it over the backs of her knees, pinning her into place. Then he delivered the hardest smacks to her bottom yet, wielding his hand as though it wasn’t a hand at all but a board or a plank. She started kicking and struggling against his hold.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please sir I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry yet, but you will be.” More smacks landed, again and again. She flinched and jumped under each smack, unsure of how much more she could handle.

“Oww, oww, oww.”

Whatever sense of restraint she had one felt had all but disappeared. Her whimpers turned into gasps and small sobs. When would he ever stop? Please just let him stop, she thought. Please, please, just let him–Then all at once she felt his grip ease and his hand come to rest gently against her bottom. Relief spread across her body. Without realizing it, she had dug her nails into his pant legs. She quickly pulled them away.

“Stand up Erin,” he said, uncrossing his leg from the back of her knees. She stood, naked from the waist down, and brushed back the hair that had fallen into her face. Her hands went to her bottom, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.

“Go to the corner again,” he said. She shuffled across the room back to the wall and placed her hands over her head, drawing her shirt up over her bottom.

He got up and made his way to her. “Arch your back like before,” he said, placing his hand against her hip. “And spread your feet apart this time.”

She adjusted her feet to shoulder width, and received a smack on her bottom that caused her to jump and whimper. “Get those feet farther apart.”

She pushed her feet out until they touched the walls, realizing as it happened that she was now fully exposed to him—everything from her quivering anus to her pink, spread vagina on display. There was nothing for her to cover now.

“How does it feel to be spanked?” he asked.

“Not great.”

“That’s good. It shouldn’t feel great to be disciplined like this as a grown woman. Are you embarrassed that I’ve had to spank your bottom like this?

“I am sir.”

“Are you embarrassed to be in this position?” He ran his hand across her open cheeks, his fingers grazing the spaces between her legs.

She inhaled sharply at the touch. “I am sir.”

“Good, why don’t you stay here for a minute and think about this punishment. Because I’m telling you now that was just part one. We’re just getting started.”

“Yes sir,” she said.

She heard him walk back towards the kitchen. The door to his bedroom opened and closed, and for the first time she was alone. A sob escaped her lips at barely a whisper. Her bottom was still flaming hot, as though she had pressed it against a metal bench heated by the summer sun.

She wondered if she had overextended herself. Maybe a light hand spanking was all she needed? Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this. Ben might not even hear if she dressed herself quietly and slipped out the door. She could be in her car, back on the road and back to the familiar in a few minutes.

But she didn’t move. She had asked for this spanking for a reason. She needed this spanking for a reason. She had to know what it felt like to truly cede control to someone else, to beg for forgiveness, to let herself become a whimpering, blubbering mess in front of another person. There could be absolution in that, she thought. Here, here at last, was a chance to let the proprieties and expectations that guided the outside world fade into the background. If only for an afternoon, if only for an hour. So she stayed, knowing full well what was coming next—they had discussed it over coffee.

*“Erin, how do you feel about implements?”*

*“Good—I feel good about them.”*

*“Do you think you want to be disciplined by a spoon, like a wooden kitchen spoon?”*

*“Yes.”*

*He paused, as though in thought. Then at last he said, “Do you know why I like the spoon in particular?”*

*“Why?”*

*“It allows me to punish the places other implements can’t get to. Sensitive areas.”*

*“I think I would like–” she stopped, then corrected herself. “I know that’s what I deserve. I want you to spank me with a wooden spoon.”*

*“Good, then that’s what you’ll be getting.”*

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/m1srsf/erins_spanking_part_2_mf_spanking_no_sex