Sexual Biography of a Young Woman Pt. 12

Jon's soft dulcet tones saying. "I'm going to spank your bottom," brought me back to the present.

Now that we were actually going to do it and in the cold light of day as it were, I felt myself shudder. Part with excitement and part with fear.

"Put your hands on the back of that chair Sammi," he ordered.

I did as he said. The mood was now solemn, the atmosphere electric.

"Now move your feet slowly backwards."

I moved them a little.

"More Sammi, more. More until your arms are almost parallel to the ground, but your legs are straight."

Slowly I did as he asked. By so doing I, of course bent at the waist. I also stuck my bum out and felt the skirt edge its way up my legs.

"Now just stay like that, let me look at you," Jon said very hoarsely.

He walked right round me and the chair. His gaze never left me, he took in everything. The outline of my breasts hanging down, the bumps of my nipples, one of my pigtails hanging down brushing against my boob the other down my back. My rounded bum, my straightened, slightly parted legs, the backs of them almost up to my panties that I thought he probably couldn't quite see, but I wasn't sure.

He kept me like that for ages. I was in the most incredible suspense as slowly as he walked round me he getting closer and closer to my bent over body. He didn't say a word, his rather heavy breathing being the only sounds in the room. He stopped right behind me. Nothing happened as, presumably, he just looked at me. But then gently, dramatically and amazingly erotically he took hold of the hem of my skirt. Slowly, so very, very slowly he rolled that up. He exposed the rest of my legs, my thighs and, of course, my panty covered bum.

"Yes Sammi," that's how I have to punish you," he murmured his fingers running gently over my lace covered bottom. He softly caressed me outside the panties. It was incredibly erotic. To be standing there unable to see him but knowing he was looking at everything I had was, for some reason, such a turn on. He continued stroking me, round and round in little circles. Caressing my bum, loving it, adoring it and I realised, preparing it. Yes he was preparing my bum and he was preparing me for what was to come. And what was to come was him spanking me.

"You have a gorgeous arse Sammi. It's so beautiful it needs to be adored and loved."

His fingers were edging into the elastic at the waist-band of the back of the pink, lace knickers.

"Loved Sammi in a very special way," he went on as he started rolling the panties down.

All of this was so new to me. I'd experienced nothing like this before. Jon was taking me to places I'd never been and wasn't even sure I should or wanted to go. For Christ's sake I was just a twenty year old kid that had only had five or six blokes; alright I'd had a couple of women as well, but there'd been nothing at all like this. Nothing like dressing up as a young girl and having my bum spanked. But I was there and it was happening.

My heart was pounding and my pulses were racing as he eased them further and further off my bum. I was shivering with desire and anticipation as he revealed more of me opening up my womanliness to his lustful gaze.

"Oh Jon," I groaned as I felt the gusset of the panties pulling against my pussy lips. The lace seemed to stick to them, but then, I thought, if my juices were in free fall that would happen wouldn't it?

"Yes Sammi, that means even more punishment, good girls shouldn't cum in their panties should they?"

I didn't think there was a need for a reply.

"They shouldn't should they Sammi?"

"No, no Jon," I gasped the suspense and anticipation being so strong I could hardly speak.

Jon walked round me and sat on the chair. He let the folds of his dressing gown fall down alongside his legs so they were bare almost to the top. I was still leaning on the back of his chair.

"Come here Sammi," he ordered, indicating that I should stand alongside him. I did so.

He didn't do anything for a moment or two but simply ran his gaze up and down me. I didn't know what to do or really what he was going to do. It was totally new territory for me. I'd never been here before, I'd never role-played really and I'd certainly never been in a situation where I was about to be spanked in a planned and considered way. I was, I admit, quite scared. After all men do change with sexual arousal and I was thinking that things could get out of hand.

"What if he wanted more than to spank me? What if he lost control and instead of a spanking it became a beating? What if he then did other things to me that I couldn't even begin to imagine?" I was having these nervous thoughts as he took my hand.

"It's time Sammi," he whispered making it sound, almost, as if he was a prison guard telling a condemned person it was time for their execution.

"I promise to be kind as well as other things," he whispered as he pulled my hand.

I understood what he was suggesting. Slowly I laid myself over his knees. My hands in front of me just about touching the ground, I lay there my breasts squashed into his legs, my bum in the air and my legs trailing out behind me. Again there was that agonisingly erotic time as he slowly lifted my skirt. This time, though, my panties were already pulled down my thighs, even though part of the gusset was still sticking to me.

Then there was nothing. No touching, caressing or stroking, just waiting. It went on and on. I was so turned on by it, and that I can't quite understand. Sure, I've come to realise, I get a big kick from men looking at me, but this was so much more than that. It was as if I was lying there waiting to be spanked and the man that was going to do that was examining his trophy. He was inspecting what I was going to give him and what he was going to take. Yes he was looking at the arse that he was going to have sex with in this most unusual of ways.

But then suddenly everything changed. For suddenly I heard first and then felt after, him hit me. I'm not sure really what was the most exciting, the noise or the feel of his hand on my bum. Thwack it went again. This time on the other cheek. It hurt. Both began to sting and smart. Smack, smack, smack I heard and felt as he spanked me three more times, alternating between cheeks and avoiding the same place twice.

It was hurting and stinging. I was crying out, gripping his bare ankle and the leg of the chair and squirming as the blows came fast and slightly more furiously. But he never went too far, for as the pain reared up in me he'd stop for a few moments and would gently stroke where he'd been spanking me.

"Oh God," I groaned as I felt things change. I was crying. With pain, with excitement or tension or with anticipation? I didn't know, But then how could I know?

Sure there was a stinging, smarting sensation all over my bum and up and down most of the length of my thighs, but it wasn't any more, just a pain, if that makes sense. It was an ache that was merging with, or maybe was creating, something else. And that was highly sexual. Yes I was starting the first elements of an orgasm.

I squirmed and wiggled knowing my bum would look good like that. But I wanted more. I wanted him to do more to me and I wanted more of him, more of his body, his cock and his sexual loving. I was being taken beyond spanking; he was taking me to places I didn't even know existed.

He was now hitting me at random without a pattern, or so it seemed. At times he'd smack me several times in quick succession and then just one thwack now and then. And in between them he'd stroke and caress me. It was actually a very strange experience.

His hands now, though, were not just instruments of chastisement. They were now also encouraging me, coaxing me and stimulating me. Instead of just being things that gave me pain they also gave me pleasure. For now, as well as spanking and smacking my bum and thighs, they were also caressing and stroking me. Yes, now, as well as spanking me they were also starting to fuck me. He'd slid one hand between my legs that he'd pushed open. He held that there as with the other he administered the now occasional smacks and the more frequent caresses of my bum cheeks. The one between my legs was roaming all over my pussy, stroking my outer and inner lips, rubbing my clit, which felt like a volcano erupting, and sliding in and out of me.

The combinations of sensations were simply amazing. There was the aggression as he hit me and the tenderness as he caressed me. There was the fearful anticipation of further stinging and pain with the actual massive pleasure of his hand and fingers on my pussy. There was the sensation as those two feelings merged together. And of course there was the continual orgasm that was flooding through me.

But there was now more.

Where I'd squirmed around on his lap the dressing gown had fallen open completely from his waist down. Now, instead of feeling the outline of his erection occasionally pressing against me through the material, I could feel his long, hard, hot, naked cock nuzzling against my bare skin. It was a lovely feeling.

The tail of my blouse had come out of the waistband of the skirt, or Jon had pulled it out, for he was now running his hands up and down my bare back inside the blouse. He was fumbling his hands around my sides clearly trying to get to my breasts that were squashed against his legs. I wriggled a bit trying to give him more access. A little more fiddling around and then, wonderfully, my right boob was grasped by his hand. It nestled neatly right into his cupped palm.

So now he was fingering my pussy and clit with one hand and squeezing my tits with the other as I still lay over his lap. Pure joy.

We both wanted more. I'm not sure just what more he wanted although I suspect that it involved my bum and probably was full anal. That I wasn't ready for. I was in no doubts though as to what I wanted. That was his cock.

Most of the time I never even think of men's cocks. Even sometimes when I'm making love, the whole penis thing is almost incidental, like something that's there but hardly needs to be and wouldn't be that missed if it wasn't; sort of like mustard with a steak. But then, at other times, it seems to become so amazingly important that I can think of nothing else. That was how it was now. Suddenly I wanted Jon's cock so badly it almost hurt. My bum was on fire, I'm sure it was covered in red marks, he was finger fucking me and squeezing my breasts inside my blouse, yet all I could think of was his cock.

I squirmed on his lap onto my side a little trapping his hand under me and causing him to wince with pain.

"Shit Sam, keep still that hurt."

I couldn't help smiling that he was complaining about getting his hand squashed and the little pain that brought after the spanking he'd given me.

"Oh shut up, don't be a baby," I said rolling onto my side still lying across his lap, albeit in a very precarious position. But like that his erection was exposed to me, his hardness was rearing up before my eyes, yes his straining, ready cock was totally available to me. And boy did that look and feel good as I greedily grabbed it.

"I can't sit like this Sam," he moaned.

"Ok like this then," I said.

I eased myself off his lap and pulled him with me to the floor. Jon fell onto his back and I laid on top of him; there was no way I could have lain on my back for my bum was on fire. That didn't matter though. It didn't matter at all for suddenly it became obvious what should happen. It was the perfect way, the natural way. The most appropriate switching of roles. The most subtle changing of positions. We went from Jon totally dominating me and spanking me like a naughty schoolgirl to me taking control From him finger fucking me to me straddling him. From his fingers pumping in and out of me like a surrogate cock to me impaling myself on his real cock. Yes from he adoring my ass in the most extreme of ways to me being in awe of his cock in the most perfect of ways a woman can be. And that is, of course, sitting astride his erection and taking that right up my cunt.

Like that we fucked each other until Jon exploded inside me with what seemed like, but almost certainly wasn't, an almost endless stream of cum.

After that I slept. I was exhausted; I suppose the pain from being spanked causes that. Before I dozed off Jon had got a bowl of warm water and a soft flannel. He'd carefully washed my bottom and then applied a creamy and wonderfully soothing balm all over each cheek and down the back of each thigh. I hardly remembered that, though, for as he was doing it I was falling asleep.

Chapter 3

It was the day after Jon had spanked me; in fact it was the next morning, around ten. My bottom was still sore and that I think had woken me earlier than I would normally have got up on a non college or work day. As I try to always do I logged on and checked my e-mails. I was surprised to see one from jon.

I could hardly believe the attachments. I knew they were photos, that was obvious before I opened the file. But to see one picture after another of my bum was a surprise. To see the fierce redness on each cheek, the outline of Jon's hands and the pink blotches on the back of each thigh gave me a huge jolt. A jolt and also excitement. They were the marks that bonded the spanker and the spankee. They were his sort of trophy marks and exhibitions of my sacrifice to him.

Yes, as I had slept after Jon had spanked me, he had taken shot after shot of my injured, stinging, smarting bum that he had so expertly and so avidly just spanked.