Erin’s Spanking – Part 1 [MF] [Spanking] [No sex]

They decided to meet for coffee first. It was a rainy February afternoon—the type of day Erin would have normally spent wrapped in a blanket, torching through Netflix. The coffee shop was slow, just a few students here and there on their laptops. She had arrived early and staked out a table with a view towards the door. She’d packed a pen and paper, though she wasn’t sure why. Somehow a pen and paper made her feel more at ease.

After a few minutes, a man walked in and began to scan the room. She knew at once who he was, though he was cuter than she expected. Calm, dark eyes and a five-o’clock shadow gracing an angular chin. Not quite muscled, but clearly athletic, like someone who had played soccer in high school. He caught her look and crossed the room to her.

“Any chance that you’re you Erin?” he asked, looking a little unsure of himself.

“Uhh yes, yes that’s me,” she said.

“Ben,” he said, shaking her hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Mind if I grab a coffee?” he asked.

“Go right ahead.”

*********

It had been several months now since Erin’s last relationship had collapsed into flames. The boy had been taken with her since their first date. He cried when she told him, and she left feeling hollow, raw, and guilty. In the months since then, she’d thrown herself into work and abstained from guys, trying to bury the painful past in a puritan present.

But something gnawed at her too. Something that she had tried to push down for many, many years, but in the past few months kept rising to the surface until finally she let it through: Erin wanted a spanking. Erin had always wanted a spanking. And not a few light taps on her bottom before sex, but a spanking that hurt and bruised and didn’t end in a throwaway fuck. A spanking that took its meaning from the act of spanking, not what it led to.

For Erin, this spanking served a dual purpose. On the one hand, the idea of receiving a spanking had colored her most vivid fantasies. Sprawled out on her bed naked from the waist down, she would hold her vibrator firmly against her clit, close her eyes, and imagine being bent over a man’s knee and spanked, sometimes even turning herself over and slapping her cheeks while she climaxed. But spanking too was also something like a compulsion. Spanking was on her mind in a way that typical sex wasn’t, inserting itself into her thoughts at inconvenient times. And it was the compulsion that finally won out. Fantasies can generally be managed. But a compulsion needs to be expressed.

So, late one evening, after a week of anxiously weighing the repercussions and what-if scenarios she had contacted a friend who attended various kinky meetups and asked for a recommendation for a man who could give her a spanking. Not sex, she made sure to reiterate, just a painful, punishing spanking. A few hours later she had a name: Ben.

*********

Coffee in hand, Ben seated himself across from her. He took a sip.

“How are you feeling? Are you nervous?”

“Definitely,” she said.

He smiled. “This would be your first spanking, right?”

“Well I’ve been spanked by boyfriends in the past,” she said.

“Did they spank you hard”

“Not really,” she confessed.

“Did you refer to them as ‘sir’?”

She grinned sheepishly. “No.”

He smiled, dimples forming around his cheeks. “So you told some boyfriends you wanted to be spanked, and they slapped your ass a couple times. Is that about right?”

She laughed. “I guess so.”

“Well,” he said, lingering on the word. “If I spank you, it’s not going to be like that. If I give you a spanking, it’s going to be a spanko’s spanking. I’m going to spank you until I think you’ve been properly punished.”

“That would be—” she paused, feeling a rush inside of her. “That would be nice.”

“I want to hear you say it,” he said.

“Say what?”

“That you want to be spanked hard. I know how this goes—you’re new to this and you don’t even want to say that you want a spanking. I remember what it was like. But I think you need to say it.”

She exhaled. “I want a hard spanking.”

“Elaborate.”

She rolled her eyes. “I want to be put over your knee and spanked hard.”

“That’s it?” he said.

She leaned in a bit, suddenly aware of their public setting again, avoiding his eyes. “I want you to spank me on my bare bottom until I’m begging you to stop. But I don’t want you to stop when I ask you—I want you to spank me until you feel like I’ve been punished enough. And then I want to be put into a corner, panties down, to think about my punishment. Is that enough elaboration for you?”

He was grinning. Her panties were soaked—she’d never said it out loud before.

“Shall we discuss the details?” he asked.

She nodded.

*********

Thirty minutes later she was at his apartment door. He answered in a navy t-shirt that clung against his arms and chest, revealing a lean, muscular physique.

“Come in,” he said. Already she could tell that something about his demeanor had changed—there was a new formality in his tone.

She nodded and stepped into his apartment. The living room was practical, yet homey. Two couches formed an “L” around a wooden table with magazines stacked into a neat pile. A collection of succulents ran along the windowsill though the blinds had been lowered and they weren’t receiving much sun.

“You can set your things down there,” he said, motioning towards an end table. She took off her jacket and stood awkwardly, arms crossed in front of her. “As we discussed,” he continued. “From now until the end of your punishment, you will refer to me as ‘sir.’ When I ask you to do something, you will respond with ‘yes sir.’ You will not speak unless spoken to. If you do not follow these rules there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“And what is your safeword?”

“Pineapple.”

“Right. Take off your shoes and socks.” he said. She slipped her flats off; the wood floor was cool against the soles of her feet. “And your jeans too.”

She hesitated, then unbuttoned them, pulled them to her knees, and stepped out of the jean legs. She was naked from the waist down, save for a pair of pink panties. She resisted an urge to cover herself.

“Now over to the corner,” he said. “Hands folded behind your head.”

She stood facing the wall and heard him approach behind her. “Arch your back,” he said, placing his hand upon her hip and pulling her bottom out. “Just like that.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/m0xwl9/erins_spanking_part_1_mf_spanking_no_sex