When I put on my bra this morning, I knew that this was going to be kind of a tough day. The touch of the cups on my boobs didn’t hurt but was sensitive enough that I knew it was there. The shoulder straps were okay but where the back straw crossed my body, the slightest movement resulted in an uncomfortable throb.
Over the past couple of years, I’ve had days when sitting at my desk reminded me of the spanking that Rob had given me the night before. No complaints–it’s one-hundred percent consensual and the mind-blowing sex that follows makes the disappoint worth it. If I’m being honest, it’s not just worth it. It’s an amazing trade-off and one that I’m happy to make.
Usually, the day after a good spanking, I can sit there and by wiggling my butt against the chair, I can make myself sore to the touch. It’s not painful but it’s a reminder of what we did last night. And that’s enough to raise my arousal level so that I can’t wait to get home and do something to break my tension.
Since Ryan first spanked me and I learned of how it impacted me, it’s become part of our foreplay–not every time but enough. Our sex life stays vary and we try different positions and different ways to play. Spanking is just one thing we do but again being honest, it’s one of my favorites. If I wasn’t afraid of someone asking me why I’m twisting around, I’d want it more That and my fear that if we did it all the time, it would lose its effect on me and I’d lose those wonderful orgasms that follow it. If I could guarantee the orgasms, I’d take the risk on co-workers wondering what I was doing.
The first time Rob spanked me, it was just with his hand. I didn’t count how many spanks I got but it was enough. We experimented with other things around the house and found that they add to my excitement without the number and strength of the spanks being limited by hurting Rob’s hand. I vetoed using a wire hanger, fearing what it would do to my skin and instead we’ve settled on his hand plus a couple of toys. We mostly use an eighteen-inch metal ruler which stings with each spank but doesn’t seem to do any damage below the skin. A spanking with it leaves my skin tingling with a nice warm glow.
We also use a heavy leather belt. We started with a belt that I use when I’m wearing jeans but Rob found one that is heavier and strikes with more of a thuddy Feeling. Unlike the hard spanks from the hairbrush that Rob still uses once in a while, the belt hasn’t left any bruises. Sometimes, he swings it fully extended so the momentum adds to the feeling when it hits. Other times, he doubles or triples it up. That way, it’s heavier and he has better control of where it hits.
I said my butt since that’s where I’m usually spanked. Depending on my position, Rob will sometimes include the backs of my legs. There are times when, with the belt extended, the end wraps around hits the inside of my thighs. One time, he was aiming right below the cream of my legwhere it joined my butt. It wrapped around and, yeah, I don’t think I want to be spanked there again.
But, when I was hunting for things that Rob could use to spank me with, I got tired of testing them on my palm and started to try them out on my butt instead. When I experimented with the metal ruler, for some reason, I decided to try it on my boobs. Ouch. Absolutely ouch. But, not so ouch that I didn’t want to try that again sometimes.
Several weeks ago, Rob had given me a very nice spanking and, now that he had me well aroused, he was assuming that he would bring me to a climax. Or two.
But I surprised him, wanting one more thing. I reached over and handed Rob the metal ruler. I went over to the wall and stood against it, then I pointed to my boobs. I put my arms Behind my head, crossing them there. The result was that my chest pushed forward, giving him unrestricted access to my breasts. Rob stared at me with his eyesbrows arched in a questioning way. I just nodded and stood there.
“How many times?” he asked. I thought quickly about what it felt like when I did it myself and told him five each. He shook his head and then shrugged. He stood in front of me, to the side and raised his hand with the ruler. I watched as it came down on the top of my left breast and winced. He again looked at me and I told him to keep going. Another shrug and it did the same to my right.
He did two on the top of each one and then one to the inside of left breast and one to the outside of my right one. Then, he touched the ruler against both of my nipples and looked at me. I knew what he was asking and nodded one more time. Rob stood back and brought the ruler back, then slammed it into my right nipple. Without pausing and without asking me if he should continue, he swung his hand back and hit my left nipple with the ruler.
It stung. Badly. But, except for the nipples, not really different from my butt or legs. I looked down and could see the redness and a line from where the edge of the ruler had come into contact with my skin.
I brought my hands down and gently massaged my boobs for a while and then pushed him to the bed where he used his tongue to make everything worth it.
* * * * * * * *
Rob and I communicate really well. Not just about sex but we do communicate well about sex. My first spanking came from Rob swatting me in a playful way. We spoke about it and I learned that he actually wanted to spank me. I was willing to try it so we did. Our addition of spanking toys also came only after we had discussed what we each wanted. Rob was emphatic about me having a safe word so I do and, even though I’ve never used it, it adds to my sense of security knowing that he will stop whatever he’s doing if I want him to stop.
So, it wasn’t a great surprise that when I asked Rob to spank my boobs with the ruler, he did but he made sure that he knew what I was asking for. It was also not a surprisese that we’d talk about it again.
We were sitting at the dining room table. I was teasing him, having met him at the door wearing only panties and a t-shirt. Sitting there, I continued to tease him by adjusting my t-shirt and occasionally brushing imagine lint off of my boobs.
He started as he often did with a direct question. “Did you like having your tits spanked?” He knew damn well that I hated that word for describing them but I knew that it was the word he usually used. Some things just aren’t worth arguing about.
“Sort of? It hurt but not bad.”
“But did you like it?”
“Yeah, I guess I did. I’m not sure why but it pushed me even further than when you usually spank me.”
“I guess that explains the way you screamed when you came.” He smiled at me and I know that he likes it when whatever he’s doing causes me to get noisy during sex. The funny thing is that I’m rarely aware of what noises I’m making. My mind is somewhere else then.
“It mighthave been the spanking or it might just be your tongue. Kind of hard to know which one it was.” Rob is proud of his cunnilingus skills and, as the benefitiary, I have no problem amplifying his ego there. “But, if you’re asking would I want you to spank me there again, the answer is probably. N, not probably, yes.”
“Just there?”
“Just there? Where else are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”
“Remember the time the belt wrapped around and almost hit my pussy?” I shudder remembering the only time I’ve come close to using my safe word.
“I remember. I remember what you said when that happened and I’m assuming that you’re not thinking of asking me to do that.”
“You’re right. I’m not.” He Knows that I’m not. Even though he didn’t do it on purpose, I used some bad words at him for several minutes afterwards and he had been pretty careful to avoid that area ever since.
“Then what?”
“Two things I’ve been thinking about. More on my boobs.”
“And?”
“And my upper back. Like I’m being whipped.” We play a lot but we’ve hardly ever done any role playing. I see a light go on in his eyes and I suspect we’re both thinking of scenes.
“Wow. Really? Are you sure?”
“I don’t know if I am. I was thinking about it but I don’t know if I’d really want it.”
“Maybe we need to think about it.”
“Yeah, maybe we do.”
So, no breast whipping that night. Not even a hand spanking. But my teasing during dinner paid off so also no complaints.
* * * * * *
The subject didn’t come up for a few months. We did lots of other things during that time. Some of them involved spanking. Some involved other things. With the help of Rob’s tongue, they all resulted in me climaxing so I was happy. He came in me and on me so he was happy. Rob and I even started talking about moving in together–we were at my place or his most nights so both of us paying rent was startingto make less sense. Rob joined me for dinner at my parents’ house one night when my dad embarrassed me by asking if we’d get married before we moved in. Rob just smiled and said probably not before but maybe after.
We did– move in together that is, not get married. Combining what we had been paying separately, we decided we could afford a bigger “our” house instead of one of us moving into the Other’s apartment. Friends helped us unload the rental truck and after finishing the pizza, they took off so we could unpack the boxes. Carrying some stuff into the living room, I noticed Rob staring across the living room towards the backyard.
“What are you looking at? I asked, not seeing anything specific.
“Do you see those hooks in the ceiling?” I glanced up at the two hooks hanging from the ceiling beam in the center of the room.
“Yeah, when I get a chance, I’m going to swing by a garden shop and pick up some plants to hang there.”
“Is hanging plants there reallythe first thing you can think of?”
OMG, I hadn’t thought of that but now that he suggested it, all I could picture was me naked with my hands tied up to the ceiling hooks. Living with Rob was going to be really fun!
* * * * * * * *
Well, we had to finish unpacking and we were both pretty tired when we were done. Not too tired for a quicky but that took all the extra energy I had left. Then, I had to go on a work trip for a few days. Not the best way to start our living together but there was nothing I could do. We RocketTalked each night. The first night, I was topless and the second night he was naked. Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to get home.
It was late when I got home so just a welcome home quicky and then a good night’s sleep. The next night, we met our moving crew for a thank you dinner. So, it turned out to be several days of thinking about the ceiling hooks before Saturday morning when we could have a real discussion about what we could do with them.
“I don’t know. Tie my hands up to the hooks with some kind of cord?” I was horny and being creative was never my strong point anyway.
“Maybe.” He smiled at me. “But what if you were a single woman crossing the ocean and your ship was attacked by pirates?”
That’s why I’m never going to try competing with him on being creative. “Go on. What happens to me next?”
“Well, the pirates board the ship and they decide to take you prisoner.”
“Well sure. I figured something like that might happen. But then what happens?”
“Well, you’re not real cooperative and you refuse the pirate captain’s advances.”
“That must make him mad.”
“It does. He decides to teach you a lesson so he has his crew tie you do a spar and…”
“A spar?” I don’t really have a lot of knowledge about pirate ships. Or really any ships.
“I don’t know. Whatever they call the thing that comes from the mast.”
Okay, I’m tied to the spar or whateverr it is.”
“Yeah. They tear your top off.”
“Ooooh.”
“And the captain whips you front and back.
“Ooooh. How many times does he whip me?”
“I’m thinking 50 on your back and 25 on your front. What do you think?”
“Since this is the first time we’re trying this, I think that may be too much.”
“Okay. How about 25 on your back and 10 on your front? Better?”
I’m thinking ouch and what the hell am I getting into. “I think that sounds perfect.”
“Then, when he’s done, you decide that you love him and you give in to what he wants.”
“Better than walking the plank, I guess.”
“A lot better.”
Before moving, I had finally taken the boxes of my old clothes to the thrift shop but fortunately, not all of them. I changed and put on jeans. I took off my bra and then put on an older blouse that I didn’t plan to wear to work anymore. Actually, based on Rob’s scenario, I’m not planning to be able to wear it at all after today.
I buttoned it all the way up to my throat and tucked it into my pants. Rob was wearing a pair of jeans and a denim work shirt. He looked to me like a pirate and I hoped that I looked like his image of a girl-prisoner. We decided we’d have lunch first so we could have all afternoon to play.
We made sandwiches and carried them to the new patio furniture in our new backyard. As I sat at the table, I could feel my erect nipples rubbing on the soft material of my soon to be destroyed blouse.
We ate lunch, pretending that neither of us was in effect, wearing a costume, that I wasn’t going to get whipped with the leather belt, and that we weren’t going to have mind-blowing sex after that. We did have some relevant conversation, including that he would only hit me on my upper back to not take the risk of hitting my kidneys. Always safe, sane and consensual.
We finished lunch and, delaying what was going to happen, we did the dishes and put everything away. Then, it was time.
Rob had found some light rope left over from tying down stuff in the borrowed pickup during our move. He spun me around and looped a length of the cord around my wrists, then walked me to the ceiling hooks. I stood there as he connected a short length of cord to each hook. He removed the restraints from my wrists and quickly tied one of my wrists with the cord hanging from a hook. Quickly, he tied the other arm to the other hook. I pulled against it and discovered that a previous resident of our house had installed the hooks solidly to the beam, leaving me unable to pull away.
Rob circled me a couple of times, just looking. If he looked closely, and I’m pretty sure that he did, he’d have seen my nipples poking against the material. The blouse was thin enough that I would never have hurt it out braless and the reason for that was Now pretty obvious.
Standing in front of me, Rob grabbed hold of the front of my blouse, right above my boobs. He put his fingers into the opening that he had created and then he pulled it apart. The material held briefly but one button snapped off and went flying across the room. He stood back and admired his work then reached into the now gaping front and pulled harder. The top button, above the previous one pulled off and my blossom was now yawning from my neckline down to the middle of my chest. From my angle, I wasn’t able to see but I assumed that someone taller than me would be able to see my cleavage. Rob is taller than me and I could see him enjoying the view that he had created.
Evidently, it wasn’t enough to satisfy my pirate captor. He grabbed the front of the blouse again, lower this time, and when he yanked it, two more buttons tore from it and I heard the material tearing with them. My bared breasts were now going to be visible to anyone looking at me. Only one button, tucked into my pants, still held the blouse closed to any extent.
But not for long. He grabbed the lower part and pulled it out, then separated the final button. The blouse was still drawn over my boobs but was open enough to provide access. He took advantage of this access, reaching in and grabbing me there.
It’s no secret that Rob appreciates nice boobs. Okay, probably any boobs. He likes them generally so it’s not unusual that I catch him noticing a woman whose chest is on display. I don’t worry about his looking since I know he Particularly likes mine or at least I think he does. He touches them a lot and during sex, I know that his hands and his lips will be on them. I love how he plays with them and his gentleness in his touch and his kissing me there.
Not now though. When I said he grabbed me, I meant he grabbed one boob in each hand and he squeezed them painfully. It wasn’t excruciating pain but it wasn’t’ comfortable either. I think part of this was that it contrasted with his normal gentleness and it wasn’t expected. Thinking about how a pirate might treat a captive, the surprise should have been that I wasn’t expecting it.
After fondling the whole breast roughly, he focused on my nipples. They’re another common target for his fingers and lips but he’s never squeezed them the way he is now. I yelp but I don’t come close to using my safe word yet. No one has ever put nipple clamps on me before and I wonder if this is what they would feel like. If so, then no thank you.
Finally, he let go and lifted a large kitchen knife from the table where he had placed it earlier. His first slices were to the wrists of the blouse, below where each arm is tied upward. He cut up a couple of inches on each arm and, after returning the knife to the table, he grabbed the material covering my left arm and tore it from the wrist to the shoulder. He repeated this on the other arm but his attempt to pull the arms off of the bloom failed. Instead, he used the knife to cut the arms the rest of the way to the neckline.
My now destroyed bloom had nothing holding the front halves on and one pull on each part made it fall apart, leaving my breasts fully exposed. The back was still tucked into my pants so when it fell, it hung there until he yanked it out and dropped it.
Standing topless in the middle of the living room, I became aware of how aroused I was getting. Besides my erect nipples, I felt a heaviness in my mid-section and I was starting to breathe faster. I assumed that he was also finding this arousing but my captor was apparently willing to wait to satisfy his lust. I, of course, had no say about when he will do this and what he will do to me when he’s ready.
It’s not his lust that the pirate is thinking about now. It’s his plan to punish me for turning him down in the first place. The belt was placed on the table before we started so it’s visible to me and easily accessible to him. He picked it up and played with it, snapping it and swinging it through the air in front of me. If his intent was to make me concentrate on what it will feel like when he turns his attention to me, it worked.
I didn’t have too long to wait. He walked around me again. The belt was doubled up and he swung it around but not even close to striking me yet. Finally, he was standing behind me and without warning, I felt it strike my upper back and I reacted with a yelp.
I like how the belt is a compromise between the purely stingy feeling I get from my metal ruler and the hard thuddy feel of the hairbrush or the wooden kitchen spoon. I don’t feel like a lash with the belt is going to do any damage to my muscles or but it’s heavy enough that I know I’ve been hit and, I don’t know why, buy I like how that feeling lasts.
He swung it again, apparently with the belt fully extended and I feel it on the other side of my upper back. Without any pause, he struck me three more times, with each one hitting my back but aimed at a different contact point. I wasn’t extremely sore although I knew that’s going to be coming with the cumulative effect of thepirate’s whipping. So far, my back felt like a milk heat developing where the belt has hit me. Lower than my back, I feel a strong heat developing in my pelvis as my arousal jumped and I started to get lubricated.
My captor was ready to increase the intensity of my punishment. He folded the belt, tripling it up so that each hit would be heavier. This also gave him better control and he used it to give five strikes in a row on the left side of my upper back with each one placed directly below the previous one.
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