The *Fifty Shades* era was a great time to a kinky guy on a college campus.
Suddenly, it became fashionable for prissy, well-kept, status-obsessed little co-eds to claim nonchalantly *”Oh, I’ve done that…*” with regards to things in the movie, when they most likely hadn’t.
But it stirred a curiosity and thrust BDSM into the mainstream, even if it wasn’t the most accurate representation of the lifestyle. Ergo, I stood to benefit.
Around this time, I became involved with a fellow student named Vanessa.
From a well-off Jewish family, Vanessa commuted her first year, mostly because her parents were overbearing. But she didn’t mind her mom still doing her laundry, taking her on shopping trips, and displaying other behavior that suggested she was prepared to helicopter over Vanessa throughout her entire young adult life.
Vanessa moved onto campus after her freshman year, but she was still rather spoiled–her family brought food to her dorm on most weekends she didn’t go home. And she somehow finagled about half of her roommate’s closet space for her own sprawling collection.
But Vanessa sucked cock like her life depended on it. Like she was trying to force a Kosher deli pickle through the tiny hole of bagel. Never showing a gag reflex, she’d keep her eyes locked on mine as I shot ropes of warm cum against the back of her throat. She never wasted an ounce.
So I was thrilled when this eager little oral champ told me she had heard about *Fifty Shades* and wanted me to spank her. I had mentioned my experience and predilection for spanking previously, but since it didn’t revolve around her immediate needs, it probably went in one ear and out the other.
I told her I’d be happy to do it, but it had to be by my rules. She rolled her eyes and said “Sure.”
That’s when I knew I was going to *love* this.
One Friday night, after we went out to dinner, we went back to her dorm. Her roommate was gone for the evening. Vanessa was wearing pink stiletto heels that seemed more appropriate at a strip club than a college campus. Tight, dark blue jeans and a top that showed her tan, toned arms.
She was still giggling and continuing a conversation from dinner when we walked in and I sat on her edge and told her to get across my lap.
She looked confused. I’m sure it seemed more theatrical and whimsical in the movies. But I gave her a stern look that reminded her that this was by “my rules.” As she approached me, I undid the button and small zipper to her jeans and yanked her pants down to her ankles.
The jeans were so tight, glued to her ass, that her black thong went with them, even though I didn’t purpose remove them simultaneously. She stepped out of her heels and went to kick off her jeans/thong.
“Nope. Those stay there.”
She froze, a bit sheepish, having her ankles handcuffed by her scrunched up jeans. But she complied.
Once she was bare from the waist down, I guided her across my lap.
She wiggled a bit as I rubbed her bare bottom. Massaging each cheek a bit. Pulling and stretching her flesh. She made some smart ass remark, like, “Should I tip you for this massage?”.
I said nothing. Just grinned.
I began with a few “warning signal” slaps to the sides of her cheeks. Very light. To prime the flesh. I guess she thought *that* was the bulk of it.
She looked back at me flummoxed. Gave me a “Is that it??” look.
That’s when I raised my hand above my shoulder for the first time and sent it slamming into her right ass cheek.
She flinched immediately from the jolt; her back arched and her head and neck shot up.
“Owwwwwwwwwwwww,” she yelped.
It was probably the first time in her life she wasn’t handled gently.
She tried to squirm but her jeans limited the mobility she had in her legs. I followed up quickly with another smack to her left cheek. A little rubbing followed, then a few slightly softer smacks to her crack.
Suddenly, she didn’t have much to say.
“Have you had enough?” I asked, knowing her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit that her ass wasn’t nearly as durable as she expected.
She simply shook her head and buried her face in her elbow. I continued, with smacks to her lower cheek. Ones she would feel the next day.
This little neighborhood princess. With a beautifully reddened bottom.
It was a gorgeous sight.
When I felt like she had sufficiently experienced her first real spanking, I softly rubbed her cheeks. Then my fingertips wanders to her bare, perfectly shaved pussy.
*Drenched*.
After her painful introduction to the spankings, Vanessa got to enjoy a little *pleasure*, too.
***********
The next day, she sent me a photo of her ass.
It was *hardly* bruised, but she claimed to see a small mark. And she was proud of it.
Later, on her Snapchat story, she posted a picture of 50 Shades movie poster, with some self-assured commentary.
“Amateurs…”
I laughed. Suddenly she was an expert bottom.
Vanessa had no idea what she was getting herself into.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/iuk1hy/mf_a_college_girls_first_real_spanking
photo??
FUCK, There better be more to this!!!