The coffee may have been sweet, but it didn’t compare to the sound of Ronald’s envelope hitting the table. I texted a few friends that I love them, putting the cell phone in front of me.
“You are at the bottom, so look at the whole collection, my little Mercury!” Ron laughed appreciatively and gripped my wrist as if he was groping my cleavage. As most guys I’ve met – nice ones or jerks – have wanted to do.
I looked around to see if the other girls from campus were sitting in the cafe. I opened the envelope and started looking at the first girl from the astronomy collection with bras in the appearance of planets. Black-haired goth girl Pluto still couldn’t forgive her elimination, so she was pursing her lips and showing her middle fingers. The boys will still be most interested in the tiny panties with the skull. They suited her! Also, the see-through T-shirt did a fine job for Neptune, standing with mock embarrassment, puffing on the wave. Or the cap of Uranus, the only thing left of her flight attendant uniform.
The planets closest to the sun were the hottest anyway. The Native American in military panties represented Mars. She looked hard-faced, but a small toy in her hair lightened the atmosphere – the alien that appeared in the Flintstones.
“Won’t there be copyright issues?” I asked cautiously.
“No one wants to remember him anyway,” Ron waved his hand, a few brown drops splattering his blonde beard as he laughed.
The Earth was a model MILF with long hair dyed green. She had cities on her panties. I have to say that I was upset when Ron told me that I would not be Venus of his circle, but he always stuck to his artistic vision, despite the pleas of dangerously hot women. He insisted yellow-to-white cups looked best on young African-American endowed with sensual eyes. She was striking her ass with one hand and pointing to her golden panties in the form of the shell with the other, the index finger bent, perhaps to emphasize how easy it was to take them off.
I finally got the first planet. I saw myself, whose long legs, one straight, the other bent, were tipped with skates. Figure flaunted the slender waist and planetary breasts stretching everything, including the dirty gray surface of Mercury. But I didn’t admit it in the photo. I smiled innocently and peeked out from behind the geeky glasses. Ron’s hairdresser made wings from my chestnut hair, and I wore fishbones on my panties. You can say the bony motif connected me to Pluto.
“You did it!” I patted his hand. “This may be the first of many magazines we’ll be featured in, and soon we’ll be given fashion shows. To Ronald Fields, a photographer whose lewdness only benefits people!”
I picked a cup of coffee, but it was the best thing in my reach. Ron grinned and imitated me.
“And to Irma Benson, the hottest girl of Stamford!”
Anyway, the world will say goodbye to Irma Benson’s name. Admirers of graceful curves and exclusive clothes will like her as – Salome Thunder! Perfect name. In private, her surname will change to Albany, and she will make sure that no one knows about it because Irma Albany sounds like the name of a distributor of residual mines from southern Europe.
After two hours of excited contemplation about the future, I left the park for a pizzeria, where I had an appointment with another guy. He was named Albany already. Lionel came from a higher year and studied English literature like me. He managed more with his tongue than Shakespeare did with his quill and was nicer than most embittered writers. We knew a long time ago that we wanted to be married. I sat opposite him and looked into his blue eyes, in which you could see kindness accompanied by slight frustration.The welcome kiss sorta relaxed him, but when he patted me on that restless spot above my legs, I felt the order: “sit down, or I’ll kick you there.” Had they brought us pizza then, I would probably sacrifice one slice and smeared tomato sauce on his glasses so he would see red literally.
“Are you angry when you see me? I was looking forward to telling you the breaking news.”
“Glad you were lucky today, Irma.”
Lionel spoke even those words in a pedantic voice. Our lecturers had sexier diction than him at the moment. He didn’t speak again until they brought the promised ring with a spicy sauce and crumbled ingredients to our table. He cut his pieces but wasn´t concentrating on the food as if he had something stuck in his stomach. I was slowly warming my mouth, yearning for the services and experiences of the previous business.
Little by little, the mood of my fiancé improved, and he began to express himself in longer sentences. “I don’t know what you did, but I had to wait at my dad’s company. I sat in an office where the Bangladeshi guys forgot I was there. If I left, I’d remind them inappropriately, so I listened for over an hour to their thoughts on the export and pricing of our dysentery medicine.”
I tried to look sympathetic, but only for so long before I thought I could use my simplest gift to all men – a sensual expression. “Tough day, nice night,” I coaxed. “I was counting on you to make my day as well,” Lionel stated, pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. “When you sent me a text message, I thought you’d be on chat, and I messaged you repeatedly, hoping you would at least free me a little. Then I didn’t want to call you.”
“Jesus, sorry!” But it was unusual. I mostly heard the faint beeping. I would feel the vibrations from the inner pocket. I put my hand in it. “Damn it, where do I have it?” It embarrassed me in front of my man, but I had to open my purse on my lap and rummage inside. It suddenly dawned on me. The photo folder was more bulging than expected from its flat contents. I opened it on the table and demonstratively took out my cell phone.
“My bad. I took more stuff and stuck it together. For tonight you’re the only one sticking things.”
He nodded absently. “What did you reach for so passionately?” “That was just my triumph today!” It started badly, but it will end splendidly. “Look at the jewel of the collection. I have other girls here, but I’ll show you their heads only.”
He looked at the photo in amazement. He raised his head again, his eyes narrowed. “I’d love to hang it in our bedroom.” He swallowed. “But to think that it might end up in the hands of horny guys who have never approached a woman in a lifetime and have a harder cock than a brain, or those who have ten of them in a day and don’t ask for their permission anymore…”
I ate my slice of pizza and washed it down with mineral water. “That’s one of the reasons I’m marrying you. The rich and caring husband intervenes whenever men who smile suspiciously too much approach her.”He put the photo on the envelope and took my hand in mid-air. Gently, but his grip tightened.
“Irma, now you say you need me to protect you, but girls like you want to be independent. You can´t have it both ways. You are a smart and capable girl. You can lead a life without exposing yourself. My mother was just friendly to the wrong guys. They interpreted it in their way, and it encouraged them to do horrible things to her. What would happen to someone who bares her skin?”
“Oh my God,” I gasped over the mother part. “But you aren’t a child of the rape, are you?”
And you aren’t an idiot, Salome Thunder, are you?
It was hard for Lionel to shake off his frozen smile.
“You’re a capable girl,” he paraphrased his earlier judgment of me. “And I’d like it if you didn’t waste your parents’ money and find a job where people won´t see you much.”
“Let’s finish it!” I pointed to a good half of the pizza between us. “‘We can talk about it at your place.’
Lionel looked at the photo again and sighed. “Why, yes. I intend to show you something I thought would wait until the wedding night.”Great! He’s still thinking about sex. That means I can buy him.
He took me to his cozy little house. Of course, I threw my coat down in the hall, but the rest on me didn’t have to wait long. I let Lionel take my hand and lead me to the bedroom. We kissed, but this time he pulled away too soon. I thought he needed some encouragement, turned my back to him, pushed out my bottom slightly, and slowly pulled my pants down, swinging my hips. I put them on the dresser next to the mirror, and now I stood on to look at my guy, into his eyes, and unbuttoned my shirt, button by button. I proudly looked at my figure in the mirror. Purple panties and a lace bra added something to the figure itself. It’s like flowers. They are fine, if beautiful, but they should also smell good.
Now Lionel kissed me. Short and on the face. “Wait a minute. I’m going to get something.”
He left the room, and I stopped liking it. The last time a guy said that to me, he returned with a wine bottle he wanted to shove into my pussy. When he came back, he was wielding a massive paddle in his right hand. It was a big rectangle of brown-to-orange wood, so long it looked like there was one more person in the bedroom with us.
I clenched a little. Now I didn’t want to resist him but…
“Sorry, I have never been into this.”
He raised the paddle a little higher to his chest. “That’s not what it’s about. You’re not going to enjoy this, and I dare say neither am I. You’re a free being, but the one acting irresponsibly, so I have to warn you.” “You are not my father.” And my dad spanked me maybe once. With the hand.
It looked like Lionel had an answer ready for that. “No, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a say in you doing stupid things. That’s what a good marriage should be about. Not that husbands and wives will fight, but they’ll say it in a way they’ll remember for a long time. When it’s one of them as an athlete and the other as a coach.”
I got nervous and began to think it made quite a bit of sense, although perhaps it was because the absurdity overwhelmed me.
“What if I want to be photographed even after that?”
“Well, we will talk about it again, Irma. This isn’t about not stealing cookies. It is about thinking about why you got spanked and thinking about it differently. Seems to me like you’re only thinking about what you want right now. Which is selfish.”
“Okay, yeah, thrash me!” I probably sounded a little hysterical, but I had to force myself to say it.
“Good. Take off your panties.”
And today, I chose a piece with a hole. At least I gently threw the part of the undergarment on the bed.
“Grab your ankles.”
The part of PE I hated maybe even more than the perspective of being spanked. I twisted so that my ass bulged obscenely, and my back ached. Lionel moved to my side.
“You will get seven strokes today. Seven is a lucky number. But I’m not going to count them unless you immediately deliver: ‘I don’t have to act like a slut to succeed.’
It scared me. When I felt the hard surface on my ass, most of all I wished he would give me the first blow already. When he did, I wanted him to stop.
Whack! Jesus! He had to put strength into it that I wouldn’ it that I wouldn’t have expected from him, even though I knew how strong his muscles were from making love.
“Aw! I don’t have to act like a slut to succeed. Christ!”
WHACK!
He put more into this one, and I took a step forward, breathing raggedly. I said my sentence a little faster this time. I was afraid I might forget. Lionel held my back and stroked me for a long time. I wondered if I was hot for him that way. It must have felt good for him to subdue me like that, and I didn’t mind if I made him feel good. If only hiney hurt less!
WHACK!
The entire surface of my asscheeks pulsed in protest – or perhaps acquiescence – at my additional education.
” Ido- – I don´t – I don’t have to act like a slut to succeed! I’m sorry, Lionel, I’m sorry!”
“Honey, you heard me what I told you. I don’t want you to feel guilty. The point is to make you think. And that takes more blows.” Before he continued my thrashing, he unfastened my bra and let it fall to the ground. The sight of my naked body must have given him new energy for the fateful movement of the wrist.
WHACK!
Now I stepped back a little. The bra would have to be wet with tears in a moment, and even I thought I deserved severe punishment. This time I had to repeat my sentence because Lionel couldn’t understand me.
“Enough please!”
He caressed the back of my neck, and the mercy felt like an incredible relief. “This is training. I can’t stop it in the middle. But after each blow, I’ll pet you nicely to make it go by faster.”‘
Lionel spanked my ass for the fifth time and bent over to me. He dried my tears, and this time we kissed long and passionately. A part of me blamed myself for forcing him to do this. However, it seemed like nonsense. After all, it was my beauty, my career, and my money!”
WHACK!
WHACK!!!
My beauty now suffered temporarily. I’m not going to see Ron with a black and blue ass to show him off in a bikini.
Will I even get to him? Every step hurt. If the fact that I wouldn’t be able to move out of this bedroom should have strengthened the relationship with my fiancé, then the lesson served me well. Damn, it hurt just straightening up.
Lionel took my hand, which I wasn’t rubbing my battered bottom with. He sat on the bed with me and let me sit on his thigh so my ass was not touching anything.
He stroked my back and breasts. “If someone wrapped the sun, moon, and stars and gave it to me in exchange for you, I wouldn’t take it. Your body and soul are precious, my dear. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I don’t want someone to hurt you much more. Consider it. I wish to be your helper.”
I hugged him carefully and cried softly on his shoulders. I still want to marry him and will think about every word he says.
But I will also show him I know how to manage my life.
To be continued. Maybe…
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/124ufk7/model_squabble_spanking_dd_reluctance_maledom_mf