The fact is, I was really looking forward to her visit. She and I met online at a spanking site and had hit it off quite well. When I invited Tasha to come out and stay for the weekend, she said she couldn’t wait. Apparently, that was an understatement. Imagine my surprise when, instead of arriving Saturday morning as planned, I found her at my door on Friday afternoon.
“Oh! Hi!” I exclaimed.
While giving her a welcoming hug, I nervously glanced over my shoulder at my apartment which wasn’t as tidied up as I like to have it while entertaining guests.
“Don’t worry about it!” she said when I apologized for the minor mess.
Nevertheless, I quickly headed into the kitchen to push a few forks and dishes into the sink as she made herself comfortable in the living room. Then, after fixing Tasha a drink, it was into the bathroom to make sure everything was shipshape.
Tasha seemed a bit miffed when I told her I had to go out and do a few things before starting our weekend together. Her irritable mood made for a long afternoon as we went about running errands. She complained that I was taking too long at the hardware store, bitched about how boring it was at the pharmacy and practically threw a tantrum in the bank. Normally, I would have cut my business short and taken her home for a trip across my knee or simply spanked her in the back seat of my car. But I had something else in mind.
I took her to a family restaurant in my neighborhood.
When a waitress with a name tag reading “Doris” came to our table, I ordered a steak with fries.
“And you?” she asked Tasha.
“Oh, she won’t be having any supper.” I said, plucking the menu from Tasha's hands. “She’s been a very bad girl.”
Both my friend and the waitress were stunned. But when Tasha simply lowered her head in embarrassment, all Doris could say was: “And to drink?”
“Coffee for me. She’ll have a glass of water, no ice.” Then I winked at Doris, signaling that all was well. She smiled apprehensively and nodded as she gathered up the menus.
“Shit! Are you crazy?!” whispered Tasha frantically. “I can’t believe you said that!” “Watch your language!” I told her. “Unless you want to go to the men’s room and use some hand soap as mouthwash? You want that?”
“No!” she hissed, her eyes darting around to see if anyone else was listening.
A moment later, Tasha cringed to see Doris placing our order then subtly pointing us out to a fellow waitress. The other woman giggled a bit then grinned slyly as Doris told her something. After letting my date wallow in public humiliation for a few minutes, I leaned over and spoke to her softly.
“If you’re really hungry you can have some dinner.”
“I’m too embarrassed!” Tasha replied quietly, her cheeks ablaze with disgrace.
As I ate my steak and Tasha sipped her water sheepishly, Doris passed by several times, no doubt hoping to obtain another glimpse at our peculiar relationship. She was clearly amused when she saw Tasha attempting to pilfer one of my fries only to have her hand unceremoniously slapped away.
After I’d finished my meal, Doris returned to our table to ask if we wanted anything else.
“I’m going to have a hot fudge sundae for dessert.” I stated. “The young lady will get hers at home.”
When the sundae arrived, I could sense Tasha eyeing the tower of ice cream and chocolate sauce lustfully as she began to speak.
“Could I please-”
“Close your mouth.” I commanded. Tasha obediently pressed her lips together. I then slowly dipped the spoon into the sundae, carefully gathering up equal portions of chilled vanilla, hot fudge and whipped cream. “Now open it.” I said. Tasha smiled then parted her lips wantonly as I brought the spoon to her hungry mouth. She closed her eyes in ecstasy upon tasting the heavenly concoction. I spent the next ten glorious minutes lovingly feeding her the entire sundae, except for the cherry which I’d set aside for last. Tasha flicked her tongue at the glistening orb as I dangled it over her waiting jaws. When I was done teasing, I lowered it so she could seize it with her teeth. “That reminds me...” I mentioned nonchalantly. “You’re getting your bottom spanked until it’s the color of that cherry as soon as we get home.”
Tasha’s eyes widened as she gulped it down.
Within a minute of arriving back at my place, she was over my lap with her panties banded around her thighs as I sat on the edge of the couch delivering the bare-ass walloping she’d so diligently earned. The brisk warm up with my hand had her yelping and lifting her feet a few times, but the dose she received from my trusty oak hairbrush soon turned an already sound spanking into a tanning session Tasha was not likely to forget.
As I lifted the heavy wooden brush on high, I grabbed a handful of Tasha’s long silky hair and pulled her head back a little as if warning her that tears would soon follow. Tasha tried to brace herself but there was no preparing for that first stunning smack of wood onto her soft, unprotected bottom flesh. No sooner had she cried out in pained surprise from the first swat, then several harder smacks landed delivering a fresh batch of misery to Tasha’s fiery buns.
After that, the hairbrush moved at a fast and frenzied pace. I spanked Tasha with enthusiasm, fiercely determined to set her back porch on fire. Again and again I slapped the flat, solid surface of the brush against her throbbing, crimson cheeks.
Tasha bawled like an errant schoolgirl getting paddled in the principal’s office. Kicking wildly, she gripped my left calf tightly with one hand and clawed at the carpet with the other. She tried to call out apologies through the tears streaming down her grimacing face, but her voice was worn out from all that pitiful wailing.
Tasha’s agonizing ordeal across my knee was followed by a much needed time-out in the nearest corner.
After lecturing her at length on the subject of polite behavior, I approached Tasha. By then, her sobbing had finally subsided. Her head rested upon my hand as I placed it on her shoulder. “Turn around.” I said.
Tasha did as she was told and we embraced. Soon we were kissing with abandon. Our hands excitedly began exploring each other’s bodies. Tasha reached into my pants and quickly established a strangle-hold on my manhood.
“You’re not really going to send me to bed without any supper, are you?” “I hate having to punish you.” I groaned.
“I doubt that!” she said, smiling wickedly as she slowly slid to her knees. Just as gradually, I unbuttoned and unzipped my slacks.
“Here’s something else you’ll find hard to swallow.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet?” Tasha cooed as she yanked my pants downward.
“You tell me.” I replied, lowering my boxers and offering her a second helping of dessert.
You are welcome to contact the author Alex B.
-- The End --
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