*All characters are over 18.*
It took me three nights til I could lie on my back at home and stop fidgeting. I thought I was the most carefree girl in the world, but it turned out that I had two huge problems. Both related to the person of the guy I wanted to share my life with. It bothered him how I wanted to use my beauty, which would piss off most women, but he is whacking my bare ass and calls it mentoring. How can his conscience survive the destruction of such a nice bottom?
I called Ron to say I had stretched my muscle and couldn’t shoot for a while. He yelled at me, of course, and I had to remind him that I was sexier than Monica writhing in front of him with a sore instep or Katherina, now dancing in music videos, which she once managed with a dislocated leg. Thanks to that, he didn’t give up on me, but I mainly swore to myself that I wouldn’t give up on him or my fiancé. Of course, I was annoyed by what Ron said at the end of the call. “If you’re not here in two weeks, I’ll drive up to you, unbuckle my belt, and give you five lashes on bare for every day I haven’t seen you!”
What is it with guys wanting to beat our asses all the time?
When I left Lionel that morning, careful with sudden movements, I emphasized something to him.
“We’ll talk, but since you didn’t give me much of a choice when it came to your agreement, I’ll decide what our next debate will look like.” Grudgingly, he agreed. What, did he think woman can´t come up with demands of her own? For a couple of days, I divided my time between college (where I took a small inconspicuous chair cushion) and surfing the Internet, where I tried to find out something about marriages where spankings are the order of the day. I just left out Christian web pages because it made me nervous.
It was plain to me that it was disgusting and that men for whom a woman was nothing more than a slightly more rebellious pet used to treat their wives like that. So why did so many wives go along with it?
*”Mark used to come home late from work, and I greeted him by marching up to him, shoving a wooden spoon in his face, and yelling at him,”* writes Jordie from West Virginia. *”Our life would have been unbearable if he hadn’t run out of patience, taken the wooden spoon out of my hand, and forced me to arch my behind. I continued to be defiant. He hiked my skirt, but it didn’t help much. He pulled my panties down, and it wasn’t long before I promised him I would be good. I got fifteen extra strokes to get away with it so easily. Since then, I never raise my voice and cook with the wooden spoon diligently so that Mark doesn’t have to use it for something else :-)”.* Should I be afraid of my man? Jordie did not enjoy her experience, and I have not heard of wives being spanked other than for pure kink until recently*.”It’s true that being slapped by a strong man’s hand is incredibly sexy,”* writes Stephanie from North Dakota. *”But the sexiest thing for me is that my husband doesn’t forgive me for everything, that he cares about how I behave, and that it doesn’t go unanswered. Well, and yes, if he’s not mad at me, we often make love to each other to reconcile.”* So Lionel said many sweet words to me, but when my ass was crying in vain for help, I didn’t feel like having sex.
Some enthusiasts were far more creative.”When my husband punishes me for something during the month, it’s always with his hand, sometimes on my panties, sometimes on bare,” confides Michelle from California. “He keeps everything recorded in The Punishment Book, and every last Friday of the month, I hand that to him, dressed only in a shirt and knickers. He then decides what my predominant problem is. For disobedience or disrespect, I get a long spanking with a belt. Trouble dealing with housework, he cures by the carpet beater. He rewards unladylike behavior in society with the hairbrush. I can defend myself, but the final decision is up to him.” Well, my fiancé may not be that inventive, but on the other hand, he reached for one of the worst tools.
Negotiations had to occur far from his comfort zone. Somewhere where would I be in control and show him what I thought of his impossible methods. I betrayed myself and posted an ad titled “I want to talk about sensual alternative lifestyles” on the physical bulletin board of the university and its social network. Potential friends who answered usually wanted me in a harem or a mixed group, but I hung up the phone quickly or blocked them on the Internet. After filtering, however, I came across the cute blonde Pearl, who lived a little differently with her husband, Paul. I met her on campus, and even though she and her husband were Democrats-voting losers, I found her sympathetic to how their lives might have affected Lionel. I told her that he would be excited, and I invited him on the condition that he adapts to their expectations. He gritted his teeth, but his eyes lit up, which probably should have warned me.
I knocked on the door of the apartment. Throughout our walk, Lionel regularly lost and regained control of his limbs. Pearl opened for us, dressed only in a bathrobe, but a smile enriched her visage. It would be suitable not only for a princess but also for a queen or empress. “Lionel, will you want to help with that?” I asked, already exhausted. “No, dear. I will get over it.” He overtook me and took off his socks. Before this visit, we had to shower ourselves.
Next came the jacket. Lionel folded his pants on the dresser, revealing his divine calf muscles. He still instinctively turned to the door as he removed his shirt. All the while, I eschewed everything. It was true I wasn’t shy in front of Pearl, though.Even while pulling down his boxers, he was trying to show his left hip to our hostess. Underwear went down, and he resigned. I peeped back to admire his round hairy ass, but he was already adjusting the long cock towards Pearl. He gave her an eloquent pleading look.
No one had to ask her to submit to the conventions of her home for long. The robe ended up at her feet. I stood next to her and rested my head on her shoulder. Two completely naked, seductive beauties were smiling at him. And he was looking at us, his hands dangling in front of his crotch unequivocal. We both had killer legs. Although Pearl had slightly smaller boobs than me, her soccer balls must have been a curious alternative to my rugby ones.
I felt an advantage over him. I stroked his right buttock as Pearl led us away to introduce her to her husband. He touched the small of my back for that and roughly pushed me away. I tried not to think about it when Pearl introduced Paul to us at the low table in the living room. He was smaller and leaner, but unlike my fiancé, he had a toned stomach, muscular legs, and a slightly longer male member. However, his face was unusually narrow, and his playful eyes were looking at us from behind the glasses – the only piece of clothing – revealing a mind accustomed to unusual ideas.
“Welcome. With friends, a party grows, and a party can become a mixed harem!”
He waved to us, but a dismayed Lionel had already sat on the couch before the invitation, and I followed him. The sheep’s fleece rustled me pleasantly down there. While Pearl set up her round backside for us to leave and bring us treats, my fiancé kept covering his tool. It was no longer clear to me if he didn’t want hosts seeing it or if he was waging a futile struggle with his erection.
“Your man is still uncomfortable with our customs, I see,” Paul said with a smile. Lionel was silent. I gladly answered. “He probably thinks he’s the only one who can go against society’s trends. He also apparently didn’t understand that I wanted to show him how a bare body is normal.”
Lionel objected sharply. “I’m not talking about things people do in private. Sure, go naked, but just like having sex, you’re not bothering the public and putting yourself in danger!”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, dear. You gave me a sermon on how women who expose themselves are a risk to themselves. But the deviants who prey on the women they are attracted to will not discriminate and will always target us no matter how we reveal ourselves. Moreover, by what we do, we show that we are not afraid and aware of our power over men.”
Lionel was suspiciously quiet, and I became annoyed that his famous eloquence couldn´t shine through. His face stayed rigid until the moment someone rang the bell. No one asked why he was smiling all of a sudden. Pearl put on her robe and went to the door. She returned dismayed. “Some redhead,” Pearl said slowly. “And she refers to you.” Our host addressed my fiancé.
“Let me talk to her.” Lionel suddenly came to life above his waist. He went to the door and opened it bluntly. He whispered something to the person on the other side and pulled her into the corridor.
Pearl was getting upset, and I quickly walked over to her. We stood as if we were preventing the woman from entering further than half of the entrance hall.
The woman was small, not a dwarf, but her head was at chest level with the remaining ladies. Her ample breasts were visible under the blue semi-translucent dress, and the jeans accentuated the curves of her ass and shorter but slender legs. However, I was disgusted by the poisonous pink of her lips and nails. “Should I undress, already here?” she asked in a dull voice.
“Of course, dear!” Lionel testified. That’s the local tradition.” The woman just greeted us briefly and began naturally shedding her clothes. As we quickly learned, she didn’t even bother with underwear.
“Honey, Pearl, this is Natasha. She’s a perfect hooker that I had fun with in my first year of university before I met the supposed future love of my life. My dad got to know her intimately too. Since we decided to celebrate unconventional lifestyles, I thought you might like her.”
His words went from my ears to my throat, and I needed to cry. “Was this necessary, you bastard?!”
Lionel calmly pulled out a wallet from his pants on the chest of drawers and pulled out a bulging wad of dollars thick, almost like his cock. He put them in Natasha’s discarded jeans.
“Irma, I used to love you, but as it turns out, you’re not only unreasonable, but you also make deals with complete lunatics, and I can’t make you a better wife.” He looked at Natasha and then back at me. “If we’re not going to be married, at least you will be the inappropriate company for a while today.”
“Did you hear that?!” I turned to Pearl and Natasha alternately. “He just insulted us all! Lionel, I think I’m beginning to understand. You have a problem with any woman who publicly expresses her independence. You think we’re only good for shagging you!”
“I haven’t had the honor here with madam yet.” He tossed his head towards Pearl. “Now you hate me. Let me get dressed so I can leave and leave you to your shameless flock.”
“No, no, no, no.” I contradicted him. “No,” I added. “Natasha, were you paid for anything other than to come and strip?”
“Well, I was going to stay like this for a while.”
I rummaged through my clothes and found a thousand dollars. “I’ll give you a bonus for helping me punish this douche.”
To my surprise, she was red in the face. “A little less will do!” she declared, throwing herself onto Lionel’s arm. He fought back but lost control of her anyway as Pearl grabbed his wrist, and I put in all my girl power as I clutched the other arm.
“Are you completely out of your mind? I don’t want anything to do with you, and you don’t need to do anything with me!”
“And you thought of me uncomprehending. Lionel, you are a boy who has forgotten his upbringing, so we must give you an extra lesson.” Four unclothed persons crossed the living room, one of them involuntarily.
“Pearl, do you want to risk the trouble?” Paul asked.
“He’ll never want to talk about this,” I assured him.
The Lady of the house quickly agreed with me about what we needed to do with him. With his loud complaints, we dragged my ex-fiancé to the bathroom, where Pearl, after some gymnastics, managed to remove the clothesline and cut it in two. We pulled the struggling Lionel to the corridor again and stopped his wriggling hands. Natasha bound his wrists and tied the other end to the bathroom handle. We took a picture of him on my cell phone and vanished for a while.
When we came back, we each had a different instrument in our hands. We were still naked but looked like an execution squad.
“Thanks to you, I got inspired on the internet,” I said, patting the plastic ruler. “You told me once that you were a big believer in the metric system, so as a proper teacher, I will give you thirty lashes, one for every centimeter this instrument measures.”
“You’re a total cunt!”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get the bad manners out of you. Me, then here’s Pearl as the lady of the house…” The hostess raised a wooden spoon. “She’ll honor your ass thirty-six times, and, finally, Natasha…” The hooker stepped forward with a purple hairbrush. “Natasha will remind you that we’re all ladies. Forty times. And before you go out of your way to not cooperate with us, let me remind you that we have your nude pictures and know some addresses.”
“The world is still so prejudiced,” grumbled Pearl.
Lionel’s mouth twisted, and he bent down. I always liked looking at his ass, but now I mostly remembered the moment he made me stare at the floor and think about the wood of his paddle kissing me, the tough love style.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
He bore the first three blows from me bravely. “Now you!” I said to Pearl. The wooden spoon is fiercer, and Pearl used it to punish the big guy professionally, like a little boy who let his mom down.
“Owww! Owwwwwwwww…”
He was already moaning, and his ass was changing faster than if he had sunbed him on a Hawaiian beach.
“Me again now.”
“Owww! Dammit! Stop!”
I could hear him wanting to use much more profane language that he kept to himself, but that didn’t mean I was going to spare him. With each blow, I gained strength and used the red patches of his formerly pale skin. It was my fertile field. Natasha did not disappoint either. In the beginning, the beating given by her was more symbolic because maybe she was used to it by customers, but in the second round, she improved. Even one stroke of her hairbrush was something that would have scared the hell out of you if you were seven years old and you saw a parent do this to a friend of yours and you realized that this could happen to you.
The punishment continued, and each blow was scorching Lionel’s skin from his asscheeks to his thighs, showing no mercy. It was remarkable that he reacted differently to his punishers. He wiggled and hissed during blows from Natasha, but only the punished part of his body moved. He tried to stay in one place during the strokes from Pearl, even though he screamed every time.
But when I was beating him, he cried and wanted to get away at all costs, which didn’t make sense at first sight, for I ruled with the mildest instrument. However, I also added to him, and instead of the promised thirty, he received a little over fifty from me. Of course, as he was crying there and I realized that Pearl and Natasha were already over, I started thinking again about the life we wanted to have together. I asked myself if he hadn´t remembered that too.
“Think about yourself,” I said to the still-bent man, handing the ruler to Pearl. “if you want, we can still talk. About my work. About your attitudes.”
I went to get dressed.
To be concluded. Maybe…
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12v5jeu/model_squabble_part_2_spanking_dd_reluctance