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Without His Permission by B J Wane, spanking, sex
A
daring wet T-shirt contest leads to far more than Laci bargained
for when her husband Michael catches her unaware and decides to
make her pay in ways she never expected!
Copyright (c) 2005 all rights reserved
Dear Diary,
I
can’t believe my friends have talked me into participating in a
wet t-shirt contest. What started out as a simple girl’s night
out away from our spouses was turning into a daring escapade of
exhibitionism. We were at a popular nightclub and the five of
us were pleasantly tipsy, especially me. So, when it was
announced that an impromptu wet t-shirt contest was forming, my
friends all decided we should participate. All of us.
As we
made our way backstage to change out of our shirts and bras and
into thin white shirts, I wondered how on earth I had gotten
conned into this little game. I wondered what Michael would do
if he found out. It’s not like I was cheating on him, and while
my breasts will be completely visible when the shirt got wet, I
was still covered, somewhat. Of my five friends, I was the
largest built. As we made our way on stage, I felt
self-conscious. Michael loved my breasts, always commenting on
how perfect they were, how firm and round and soft. My nipples
were large and sensitive and responded easily to any type of
stimulation. I knew when the cold water hit me, they would
pucker into tight, hard buds.
A loud
round of applause accompanied by cheers and calls of “Take them
off!” greeted us as we lined up on the stage in a single row
facing a room of avid faces. There were about fifteen
volunteers for the contest, and I was extremely grateful for the
light liquor-induced buzz that was giving me the courage to
compete with them.
Three
bouncers approached us, each carrying a large bucket of water.
The water was ice cold, and as we were doused completely, we all
shrieked with the shock. My shirt got soaked, clinging to my
curves and now puckered, aching nipples. My pussy dampened with
excitement as I felt the eyes of our audience on my near
nakedness. I was third from the end, and as my turn neared to
parade up and down in front of the line and the customers, I
grew giddy with lust and excitement. I didn’t care about
winning; I just wanted to show myself to these strangers.
I
briefly thought of Michael and his reaction, but as the current
contestant lifted her shirt, baring her naked breasts to the
loud roaring of the audience, I knew I didn’t care what my
consequences would be. I only knew I wanted to display myself
and my lust to this room full of people.
My
turn came and I slowly walked up and down the front of the
stage, my hands going to my breasts, lifting them for their
perusal. Before my nerve deserted me, I lifted the wet shirt
over my breasts, baring myself completely. I gloried in their
applause and catcalls. My hands again lifted my fullness, my
fingers plucking at my stiff, hard nipples. The crowd roared
with approval, and as I resumed my place in line and lowered my
shirt, I was excited beyond bearing.
After
all the contestants did their solo walk, the manager came up and
stood before each one of us, measuring the applause to gauge the
winner. When he came to me, the crowd went wild, and I got a
standing ovation. A few minutes later, I was pronounced the
winner. I couldn’t believe I did it! I was exalted, and I
accepted my free club shirt and drink with pride.
An
hour later, my friends dropped me off at home. I was still tipsy
but at least I had the sense to put my own shirt back on. I
tried to be quiet when I went in, but Michael was awake and
waiting for me. Before I could greet him, the door opened
behind me and a wet t-shirt came flying through and landed right
between me and my angry husband.
“You
forgot your shirt, Laci.” The door slammed shut again and
ominous silence filled the room.
Ignoring the wet evidence of my betrayal, I walked up to him and
kissed him softly. “You didn’t have to wait up.”
“Apparently I did,” Michael answered coldly. Picking up the
damaging evidence, he held it in front of me. “Care to
explain?”
“It
was just a silly, impromptu contest. I won,” I added, hoping
that would appease him. It didn’t.
Looking pointedly at my chest, he replied dryly, “I’ve never
doubted you could win a wet t-shirt contest. Did you bare your
tits completely in front of everyone.”
I
couldn’t, wouldn’t lie to him. “Yes, Michael. I’m sorry. I’ve
had too much to drink, and they dared me. When I was up there
and everyone was cheering for me, I just got caught up in the
excitement.”
“What
you did is not the problem, Laci, and you know it. The problem
is you did it without my permission and without my presence.
Take off your clothes and bend over the couch. I’ll be right
back.”
I
never thought of protesting. I quickly stripped and leaned over
the padded arm of the sofa. This was where he had first spanked
me, and I enjoyed being in this position and at his mercy. When
Michael returned, he was carrying a round leather paddle. My
heart sped up with both trepidation and excitement. He had only
used the belt and his hand on my ass thus far, and I wondered
how the paddle would compare. I was afraid I was going to find
out all too soon.
“You’re not allowed to come at all tonight. Understood?”
Disappointed, I complied. “Yes, Michael.”
“You’re going to get twenty smacks with this, and it’s going to
hurt. I don’t want to hear a word out of you.”
When
the first blow landed, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep
quiet for all twenty. The paddle covered my whole cheek and
left a heated fire in its wake. The second blow landed on my
other cheek and the third in the middle of my crack. Gasping, I
buried my face, as he slowly and methodically brought the paddle
down repeatedly on my aching flesh.
Heat
enveloped my whole backside, pain engulfed my senses, and lust
coursed throughout my system. By the tenth stroke, I was
mewling in frustration and pain. The room echoed with the hard
smacking against my naked ass and my moans of discomfort.
By the fifteenth,
tears were flowing and remorse filled me that I had so upset
him. I took the last five stoically, even though the pain was
awful and I felt like crying out with it. I deserved this, and
more, for disobeying the rules I had so readily agreed to.
The
offensive instrument of my torment landed on the floor followed
by the unmistakable sound of Michael lowering his zipper and
pants.
Seating himself in a chair, he spread his bare legs, his hand
holding his large erection out to me. “Suck me,” he ordered,
showing no remorse for blistering my ass so thoroughly.
I
couldn’t wait to please him. Slipping off the couch, I crawled
on all fours over to him. Tears streaming down my face, I
eagerly took his hard cock between my willing lips and sucked
him hard and deep. I concentrated solely on his pleasure, my
tongue swirling lovingly around his cock, tasting his
excitement. My head bobbed up and down as I brought him to a
quick climax. His shaft quickened, hardening more as he spurted
his warm come down my throat. His shout of pleasure eased my
conscience as I continued to lick and suck him through his
orgasm.
His
come dribbled out of the side of my mouth as I looked up
lovingly at him. My buttocks ached horribly and I was in dire
need of an orgasm that I wasn’t going to get.
“I
love you,” I said happily.
“I
love you too.
I was
showering the next morning when Michael surprised me by slipping
in behind me, his hard naked body pressing against my wet back.
His hands came around to cup my breasts, his fingers pulling
tautly on my aching nipples. Sighing in pleasure, I leaned back
against him, my hands covering his as they mauled my malleable
flesh.
Kissing the side of my neck, he whispered, “I haven’t forgiven
you quite yet for last night.”
One
second I was being brought to the onset of a long awaited
orgasm, and the next, I was being held tightly over my husband’s
muscular arm. His hand descended fast and loud on my wet ass as
the water sluiced down my back and over my upturned, reddening
cheeks.
“It
hurts more when you’re wet, doesn’t it?” Michael asked as he
continued to smack my buttocks repeatedly.
Squirming in both pain and pleasure, I gasped, “Yes, it’s much
worse. Please, Michael, let me come now.” I didn’t mind
groveling; I was in such fiery need. Heat spread across my
backside as he continued his tormenting abuse.
He
stopped as abruptly as he had begun, leaving me frustrated with
unfulfilled desire. Turning me, he brusquely ordered, “Put your
foot on the seat and lean against the wall.”
I did,
watching curiously as he sprayed shaving cream on my sparse
pubic hair. Rubbing the cream all over my pubis, between my
legs and up my crack, I once again became quickly aroused.
“What are you doing?” I moaned, wishing he’d slip his fingers
into my vagina and ease this tormenting ache.
“I’m
going to shave you.”
“Why?”
“Because when I watch you strip tonight at the club I’m taking
you to, I want you completely naked.”
I
barely noticed the rasping of the razor as he removed every hair
from my pussy. His words left me breathless with anticipation
and trepidation. Revealing my breasts to a crowded room of
strangers had been hard enough. I couldn’t imagine stripping
down all together, yet, the very idea had me longing to at least
try, especially if Michael were there.
Michael grabbed the showerhead and ran the warm water over my
now bare pubis. I had never felt more exposed, more vulnerable
as I did in that moment. I had no secrets left, nothing to hide
behind. I was completely bared, open, and his. When his
fingers separated my outer folds revealing the moist, pink inner
flesh, I forgot about any insecurities I had about stripping.
As his tongue penetrated my pussy, finding my clit, and his
fingers thrust up into my gaping passage, I forgot everything
except the mindless pleasure erupting throughout my bucking, wet
body.
Review of Flushed With Shame by Donna T
We all have our fantasies,
although few of us are fortunate enough to live them out. Lacy
loves her husband, Michael, with her heart and soul, but she is
becoming discouraged with their sex life. It’s at this time
that she begins to write out her fantasies in a diary she bought
not to long ago. She writes of things she would love to do for
him and to him!
Michael loves his wife with his entire being… enough so that he
suppresses his dominant side for fear of losing her. However,
he begins to let some of his more dominant qualities slip into
their relationship and is surprised with the reaction he finds.
Michael introduces Laci to a couple of his friends that have
known of his dominant nature for years. With the help of his
friends, Michael begins to draw out Laci’s submissive side.
This book reminds me of any relationship at its beginning with
each partner seeking and searching for qualities that they love
within their partner. When Laci pens her thoughts and fantasies
into her diary, you’ll be drawn into each word. THEN you’ll be
as frustrated as she must be when the entries stop and she
returns to ‘real life’! You’ll also feel Michael’s frustration
while he tries to curb his dominant side for his love of his
wife. When you meet his friends, you’ll cheer with the
contributions they make! You won’t be able to put this book
down until the very end! Donna T
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