Saturday, 12 March 2011

Spanking fetish-Moi!

Every now and then we come across a news item, a quiet family man has run amuck with a machine gun killing half the village. I'm not going to attempt any profound comment other than saying that we never ever know people, quite often don't even understand ourselves.

This applies in particular to people's fetishes which brings me to remember a man I used to know called Peter. Not a boyfriend as such, but he was quietly attractive, quite well off, and simply a fun person to go out with, and yes, when we did, more then half the time we would sleep with each other, having perfectly satisfactory sex. Nothing more than that.




Then out of the blue he had come to take me out for dinner one evening and to see a play. I was a little late getting ready and I joked that I might have to start it all over again and in the blandest possible way he said I’d only do that if I wanted to be spanked.



Nothing in his expression suggested that the remark had any significance for him and for the time being I let it go. As always we had an enjoyable evening then came back to his somewhat sybaritic flat in Chelsea and had a lovely long lingering fuck and went to sleep.

But I couldn’t let the remark go, so the next morning after we’d had coffee in bed, I casually asked him if he really would have spanked me. He avoided giving a straight answer, but wanted to know why I’d asked. ”It’s just that I’ve never been spanked before." I lied. “You know, I was just curious.”




Now where men are always at a loss is that no matter how accomplished a liar they are, their cock always tells the truth. He was uncovered when I let out my remark and instantly it cock had shot to attention, positively on fire with interest.



So I slid back into bed and while we quietly fondled each other we got into one of those gloriously arousing conversations that are almost better than sex itself.




“Tell me the truth. Come on, would you have spanked me?”

“Well you were asking for it.”

“What would you have done then? Put me across your knee?”

“Of course”

“Like a naughty little girl?”

“Exactly.”

“Would you have taken my knickers down?”

(Kissing me) “Now why do you want to know all this? I’m getting the idea that you actually want me to spank you.”

“Well as I said, I’m just curious.” (Stroking his burning cock) “I mean, I’m twenty six and never been spanked……….”

“Well suppose….”The air was now electric and our hands all over each other ”I mean, I could just give you a little spanking now, just so you could see….”

“I don’t know…. Well I suppose…just a little one….” Giggling “You won’t have to pull my knickers down as I’m naked anyway…….”

And moments later he was sitting on the end of the bed and a naked Elizabeth was over his knee acting for all the world as if this was the first time something like this had ever happened to me giving of little squeals and gasps as he gave me a series of little sharp slaps, waking my flesh up and getting me massively excited in the process.


That this was doing it for him as well was all too obvious and the speed and force of his slaps grew and grew and in a moment he was spanking me with serious conviction before he suddenly pulled me up, threw me on the bed and savagely fucked me , more aroused than I’d ever seen him.

We didn’t say too much about it, but the rest of the morning the air was alive with erotic tension and sure enough out of nowhere he found an excuse to punish me and with his foot up on a chair I was across his knee again and he was pulling my knickers down with sadistic pleasure.




A bit l later we were having an al fresco lunch at a pavement cafĂ© in the Kings Road and it wasn’t long before we were at it again, barely able to keep our hands off each other and all pretence now gone. He was threatening to spank me in front of all the passers by and I was daring him to do so. He wanted to know what clothes I’d brought with me, and not finding them exciting enough announced that we were going shopping. He roared the two of us up to Peter Jones in his TVR, and while he waited outside (legal parking being impossible) I dashed round the shop buying stockings and ankle socks and a tiny pleated skirt plus some schoolgirl knickers.

And that was that. We barely left his flat till I had to go back on the Sunday night. At every opportunity he’d be dragging down my knickers and spanking me with all the enthusiasm of the new convert.



We played all sorts of fantasy games where he was a punitive father or a strict teacher after which we fucked ourselves into oblivion.




Lying on the couch after one such session he was able to tell me that he’d had a quietly simmering spanking fetish ever since he could remember but he’d been too embarrassed ever to admit it to any of his various girlfriends and had I not said what I had, it would very likely stayed hidden for good. No doubt the different girls in his life (he was unashamedly promiscuous) discovered a new side to him after that.




So as I said, you never really know people. And very much to the point, as he doesn’t know me as Elizabeth Forster, he doesn’t know and never will know that that he wasn’t giving me my first ever spanking that wonderful weekend.

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