Frank Likes to Spank

I met Frank in an ill-lit bar not far from King's Cross station. I was perched on a tall stool in the darkest corner, hoping my little black dress would act as camouflage. I'd just been dumped by a mean boyfriend and wanted to drown my sorrows, but it's not so easy when you're reduced to counting coins...

"What's your poison?"

The offer came from a tall, dark and ruggedly handsome guy with a wicked smile; the type some folks like to call a rough diamond.

"Vodka and orange," I replied, smiling sweetly.

He ordered drinks and started chatting me up. He admired my hair, my dress and my shoes, a divine pair of white patent leather sandals with long, winding ankle straps and four-inch stiletto heels.

It wasn't too long before his hand strayed onto my knee and his fingers wandered under the hem of my dress and began stroking my thigh.

"I want you!" he whispered seductively...

But I wasn't so sure!

"I'm fragile right now," I bleated. "Perhaps another time?"

In response, he placed half of a £50 note on the bar...

"The other half's in my hotel room, which is just around the corner," he murmured. "It's yours if you'll come for an hour! How about it?"

Now usually when attractive men lead me into trouble, it's because my heart rules my head, but this time, the tables were turned; my heart said 'No!' but my head said 'Grab the money!'

"Okay!" I replied, and we walked back to his hotel, a nondescript boarding house behind the Euston Road. His room had tall windows with thick drapes that reeked of tobacco and failed miserably to keep the autumn draught at bay.

I was hardly impressed! Still, he kept his word and handed me the other half of the £50 without a quibble, so I stuffed it in my handbag and unzipped my dress.

As I'd only gone out that night to get drunk, my lingerie was less than alluring; just a plain black bra and panty girdle which I wore over a pair of opaque black tights.

"How do you want me?" I asked.

"On your hands and knees," he mused. "Oh, and lose the panties!"

I clambered onto the bed in bra and tights, still wearing my strappy stiletto sandals. I tried pouting, but he hardly paid attention and asked me to crawl over to the headboard and look at the wall instead, which I found weird, cos it meant I couldn't see him, but...

"That's perfect!" he said. "Now put your hands on the headboard."

I did as he asked, firmly gripping either side of the brass top rail.

"We're going to play a little game!" he announced, climbing onto the bed behind me and placing his large, powerful hands over mine. For the first time, I felt intimidated. His breath was tickling my neck and I could hear his heart beating rapidly, which raised suspicions...

But before I could figure out what he was up to, I found my wrists handcuffed to the headboard!

"Let me go!" I pleaded, "I don't like this game!"

"I'm not paying you to like it!" he retorted, stroking my nylon-clad butt cheeks with a tenderness in total contrast to his behaviour.

He carried on touching me gently, letting his fingers wander down my thighs and over my boy-bits till I couldn't help feeling horny.

"That's better!" he chuckled. "Might as well enjoy it!"

Belatedly, I realized that while caressing me he'd manoeuvred me into a new posture, so my legs were further apart while my butt was sticking out much further.

And then I felt something else touch me...

It was cold and thin and synthetically stiff, and he was playing with it as though it was a bow and my boy-bits were a violin, teasing my pole right up to the cherry, sending spasms up my spine. Soon, I couldn't resist rubbing my crotch against it, till my sac throbbed like a real clitty!

I forgot my anxiety and started moaning and groaning with sheer pleasure. But the more excited I felt, the more curious I became...

Just what was this strange object that was bringing me so much enjoyment?

Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I risked his ire and took a sly peek between my legs, just managing to see the leather tassel of a riding crop disappearing behind my gusset.

"I told you to look at the wall!"

His words were angry, and were followed swiftly by a loud swish, as the riding crop came down hard and square upon my tender butt cheeks.

"Ouch!" I cried. My tights intensified the pain, making it feel like a wasp's sting, and I felt hurt and humiliated, but still strangely horny.

A further loud swish and the riding crop struck me again, this time with much more force. I gasped, and tears began rolling down my cheeks. A third, even harder swish made my butt feel red raw.

"No more!" I begged tearfully. "Please stop, I hate this game!"

Frank returned the riding crop to my boy-bits and resumed his fiddle strokes. I was as hard as I could go, just waiting to burst. When he massaged my cherry with the tassel, I could feel warm pre-cum spreading around the gusset and knew I was about to explode.

"Are you sure?" he asked slowly. "Are you absolutely certain you want me to stop?"

I hesitated. "N-no!" I confessed. Just then I was hopelessly confused, and didn't have a clue what I wanted.

One more soothing touch from the tassel and I'd have gone off, but it didn't happen! Instead, I groaned with frustration as he removed the riding crop from my groin and then, after a pregnant pause in which I wondered what on earth he was doing, I heard a further swish and felt a sharp sting once more on my poor, tender butt cheeks!

Three further fast and furious strokes followed, and the pain became so intense I forgot about feeling horny and wailed, begging Frank to stop.

"Very well," he mused. "We'll try something different!"

"Th-thank you!" I blurted, so pathetically grateful for any respite I forgot to ask what he had in mind!

A stony silence prevailed as he fumbled about behind me and I stared at the wall, too scared of the consequences to risk another peek! Then suddenly I felt his firm hands on my hips and I tried not to tremble too obviously as he pulled my tights down onto my thighs.

Next, he approached the bedside, and I noticed he'd removed his clothes. He was ruggedly sinuous and had an impressive piece of meat between his legs; a good eight inches of thick flesh that was standing rigidly to attention and quivering for action!

Reaching towards my crotch, I thought he was about to pleasure me with his fingers! Instead, I was devastated to feel a sudden, piercing grip on the stem of my boy-bits, after which I rapidly began to go numb...

He'd placed a cock ring on me!

"W-why did you do that?" I asked nervously.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it!" he replied, nonchalantly lubing his quivering meat-rod with liquid soap.

After clambering onto the bed behind me, he pushed my head into the pillow and pulled my thighs further apart, stretching my butt cheeks and exposing my pussy. Moments later, I felt his rock-hard cherry exploring my tender lips, then gasped as his mighty manhood burst between my cheeks and began thrusting up and down, reaching a depth that my mean ex had never been equipped to explore!

As he stretched my pussy in every direction, my mascara-laden tears stained the pillowcase as I sobbed wildly, begging him to stop. But he was remorseless and pumped away at a furious pace without regard to my tearful pleas until, after the longest pounding I can ever remember, I heard him groan with pleasure and felt my pussy filling with powerful spurts of his thick, warm cum.

After withdrawing with a deep sigh of satisfaction, he finally removed the handcuffs and I was able to slump onto the bed, utterly exhausted.

"We're almost finished," he whispered tenderly. "Now I just need you to roll onto your back."

"No more!" I protested, reluctantly complying. With Frank lying beside me, I stared forlornly at the ceiling. He was trying to be nice by whispering sweet nothings, but I felt too used and humiliated to respond. Still, I let him remove the cock ring and at his suggestion, I pulled up my tights.

He began to massage my boy-bits, which reminded me how horny I'd been before he put the cock ring on and almost fucked my brains out. As the numbness gradually wore off those horny feelings returned, and the touch of his fingers once more became tantalising.

Getting on his knees, he placed my legs on his broad shoulders and I was able to admire my fabulous sandals as he went down on me, though not for long. Almost the first gentle gust from his warm, wet breath caused my cherry to explode, pumping hot spurts of cream furiously around my crotch and through the gusset as my whole body shook with the sheer relief afforded by a long overdue orgasm.

After several deep breaths, my eyes met Frank's, and I allowed myself to smile.

But he wasn't quite finished...

"Just one last thing," he announced quietly, "Then you can be on your way."

He stood up and, gripping me by my sandal straps, pulled my legs over my head and gave me three sharp strokes with the riding crop, right across my poor, aching butt cheeks.

I shed yet more tears and must have been a picture of confusion, staring at him with love and loathing in my eyes!

But he was unfazed...

"Pleasure and pain," he proclaimed nonchalantly, "are like champagne and caviar; they must always be served together!"

I began to dress and fix my make-up.

"Will I ever see you again?" I enquired, wondering why I was even asking.

"Maybe," he pondered, carelessly stroking his chin. "You're one of the better sluts I've met recently, so who knows what will happen when I'm next in town? But right now I'm tired of you, so you can fuck off!"

Without another word I hurried away, sure on reflection that seeing Frank again wouldn't be a great idea. But the following week I found myself on the same stool in the same bar, wondering whether he'd show...

I wasn't proud of it, but I needed another spanking!