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His Naughty Little Girl by Pumpkin,
spanking
She's a powerhouse in the real world but HIS
little girl at home
Not For Sale (c) Copyright 2003, all rights reserved
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He looked at the clock. Almost 4 am.
Where was she? With whom? What was she doing? She was rarely this
late. She had told him that she would be going out with her best girlfriend
from college, the one she hadn’t seen since graduation years ago, the one
with whom she’d
partied all those wild college nights. They’d be going to dinner, do a little
shopping at the mall, and visit some of the old gang. Yeah, that gang—her old
dorm mates, the ones who taught her to drink, smoke and be merry. She had
learned so much about life from them, both good and bad.
She’d grown up a lot since those days. She was now a very professional,
fiercely independent, somewhat feminist attorney at law. She was so proud of
that! She protected her reputation like a mother hawk protected her unborn
babies. She definitively looked the part. She wore nothing but the finest
business suits, the most expensive heels, and the most elegant jewelry. She
acted the part as well. She had no mercy when prosecuting the tough criminals
she faced every day, afraid of no one, not the criminals, not opposing counsel,
not even the most demanding judges. That was something that he loved about
her—the way she controlled her world.
He also loved things about her that no one else was allowed to know—the fact
that under those prim and proper business outfits, she wore lacy bras that
pushed up her generous twin mounds into an appealing cleavage. He loved her
matching G-strings that divided her ass cheeks into two equally delicious
curves. He loved her silk stockings, held up by matching garters. But, more than
her clothes, he loved her submissive nature. In their bedroom, she was never
Ms. Attorney at Law. She was his little girl. He was her beloved Sir.
In his world, he was in control. And he loved her for it. He loved the
feeling of power and being her disciplinarian. He knew that her submission was
indicative of her love and trust. The more they engaged in their erotic play,
the more he spanked her sweet ass, the more he fell in love with her.
As their bond grew, their sexual relationship had begun to change and grow as
well. While they still enjoyed those sweet erotic spankings that led to fabulous
sex, more and more often his spankings were ‘disciplinary’ spankings. The
two discovered, quite by accident, that if she
“misbehaved” (She loved to flirt!), and he spanked her for her
misbehavior, the spankings were so much more intense when she was being
punished, and so was the fuck session (it couldn’t be described any other
way) that always followed.
She trusted him. He trusted her. She loved him. He loved her. She could
depend on him. He could depend on her…
…
Or he thought he could.
Tonight
she was nowhere to be found. She told him that she’d be home around 2 am
and he had agreed to that. “Let her have fun. She works too much,” he
had thought. But, 2 am came and went.
He had called her cell phone twice
and her machine picked up both times. He checked the clock again. Five
minutes to four. He was beginning to worry. Should he call her again? Should
he call her parents’ house to see if she was there? Should he call the
police? Should he call the local hospitals?
Just then, he heard her car pull into their driveway and he heard feminine
giggles as she said goodbye to her friend. He listened to the click of her
red pumps as she came up the walkway dressed in her tight leather skirt and
red halter-top. He waited for the sound of her key turning the lock.
“Stay cool,” he told himself. He didn’t want her to see the
frustration he felt because she partied without him. He remained controlled
and calm. If he appeared worried, the feminist in her would resent the fact
and she’d only say, “I can take care of myself.” If he appeared angry,
the little girl in her would feel hurt and she’d withdraw. But he had
other plans for her tonight.
“Do
you know what time it is, young lady?” he demanded in an authoritative
tone. She turned at the sound of his voice. She hadn’t seen him standing
there in the dark.
“Yes,
Sir”, she said softly as she lowered her head.
“Shit, she looks hot in that outfit,” he thought. But no, it
wasn’t time for sex. He wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to make love to
her. He was so relieved that she was home safely, but even so, she needed to
be punished for her tardiness.
Her face hidden from his view, she smiled to herself, having recognized his
grim tone of voice. He was ‘Sir’ tonight. She instinctively reacted to
his question, saying: “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize how late it
was.”
“Reliving those old college nights?” he wanted to know. She took her cue
from him.
“Well,
Clare wanted to go to The Spot.” Clare was her girlfriend. The Spot was
their old college hangout.
Suddenly, his arm was around her waist and she was being pulled hard against
his wide chest. “Who was there?” he continued his interrogation. But
before she could answer, he was kissing her passionately, holding her tight
in his muscular arms, reminding her to whom she belonged.
“Jan, Tony, Carmen, and Mike,” she was finally able to tell him.
Mike.
That would be her college crush, the one who made her young heart flutter,
the one she never had the courage to tell how she felt. Images of her and
Mike slow dancing, pelvis to pelvis, flashed through his mind.
“Did
you dance?’ He questioned her.
“Yes, Sir. A little, Sir,” she answered quietly. Images of doing the
Macarena with her girlfriends flashed through her mind. He probably thought
he was dancing with Mike, but he hadn’t asked her about that, had he?
“You were flirting tonight.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of
fact as thoughts of her dancing with Mike, showing off her gorgeous legs and
shaking her ass at him ran through his mind. Boy, did she deserve the
spanking she was going to get! She had been a very naughty little girl
indeed. He would see to it that she was never late again. He let his
imagination run wild, as he made a mental list of her misbehaviors and
planned her spanking. His cock was growing erect just thinking of it.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” She knew his vivid imagination was having an effect
on him. She could feel it. It was true; she loved to flirt. Always had. But,
she bet he was creating a far worst scenario than the little flirtatious
comments she’d made tonight. She had purposely mentioned Mike—the Mike
she fell for in college. But, she wouldn’t tell him about the Mike she saw
tonight—the Mike whose hair was gray … what little there was left
of it … the Mike who had developed a big beer belly.
The
Mike who had been an exciting older man was now just an old man.
He was her Sir. He was her love. He was her hero. She loved his body, his
wide chest, those arms rippled with muscles from lifting weights. She loved
his soft hair, even the touches of gray around the temples. She loved
everything about him.
She was still a captive in his strong grip as they contemplated their own
versions of the evening, one a fantasy, the other reality. Without warning,
he picked her up. She admired his strength, but wondered what he proposed to
do with her. She didn’t have to wait long; she was about to find out. He
tossed her gently on the bed. In an instant, he was on top of her. She was
his captive again as he held her down with her arms over her head.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl,” he told her. “You know what
naughty girls deserve.” He intended to kiss her some more, to prolong the
anticipation, but he felt his reserve began to weaken.
She
was about to reply “Yes, Sir.” But, before she could form the words, he
stood up, then helped her to stand. She didn’t have time to think about
what was coming next. In one quick motion, he sat on the bed, and had her
over his lap.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
The swats sounded so loud through her black leather skirt. He wondered if
the swats felt as hard as they sounded. She had earned an extra firm
spanking tonight and he would make sure she never forgot that. As he
continued to rain swats down on her leather-covered
bottom, she began to squirm on his lap. He held her tightly.
“Don’t
move,” he ordered. Ever so slowly, making her shake with expectation, he
lifted the skirt to reveal a red G-string to match not only her red bra, but
the color that was beginning to spread along her asscheeks. Despite his
attempts at controlling his reactions, she heard his breathing become more
rapid as his hands gently rubbed her behind in a circular motion. She tensed
when he lifted his hand from her flesh. But instead of the swats she was
anticipating, she soon felt his lips on her buttocks. Ah, how those
butterfly kisses eased the sweet pain. She let herself relax and enjoy his
worship of her assets.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
She had just closed her eyes when the kisses stopped, and the spanking
resumed; this time on her bare bottom.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
Again and again and again his hand made contact with her now rosy skin. Her
squirming began again and she let out small yelps of pain and pleasure. As
his right hand continued to come down on her behind, his left hand searched
for and found her special button. She was so ready for him. He couldn’t
wait another minute. He had to be inside her.
“Stand
up,” he commanded.
“Yes,
Sir. Thank you, Sir.” She stood up, her skirt still lifted over her hips.
“Come
here.” They came together in a frenzied kiss. Once again, he lifted
her in his strong
arms. Once again, he tossed her onto the bed. But, this time there was an
urgency in him as he lifted her legs and pulled off her G-string. In an
instance, he had removed his own pants. She needed him. He needed her. He turned
her over so that she was on her hands and knees on the bed. She felt him rub his
cock up and down her vagina before taking her from behind. They immediately fell
into a frantic rhythm. Their fuck session was the best they had had in weeks.
Afterward, as they lay in each other’s arms, he told her how worried he had
been. She told him how much she had missed him. He was her Sir. She was his
naughty little girl. They understood each other. They loved each other.
