Man Being Spanked Novels & Stories

When the floor show ended, another man took a woman over his knee and spanked her where he sat. It was a type of spanking Tara had never seen. It wasn’t rushed or done in anger. He would slap her butt cheeks and then rub the red spots that formed with a firm hand. She’d cry out and counted each slap. Moaning in delight as he caressed her intimately. She was panting and begging for more. Thrusting her bum up begging for another slap. It was so intimate that Tara had to look away when his hand disappeared between her bare thighs, and she began cooing in delight and thrusting her hips against his hand.

He started to unfasten his belt and I was suddenly claustrophobic. "Hold on a minute. Your belt. What in God's name do you plan on doing with that?" "I never want you hurt, but I will need to remind you that the creatures out there aren't human. Not but any traditional standards. A spanking should help remind you that you need to be careful and not run away." The man was serious. When the thick strap was free, I was certain he'd start the elevator again, forcing me like some prisoner back into his condo. He didn't. The big man took me by the arm, spun me around, and proceeded to unfasten the drawstring on my shorts.

There was no pain, limited stinging, but the noise itself was odd in the dense space. August repeated the move, this time moving from one ass cheek to the other, his strikes firm enough my buttocks jiggled. A raw slice of shame skittered into every cell, creating a lump in my throat. I was mortified that I was being spanked in public, no matter how private the SUV was supposed to be. I could envision others standing by every window, peering in and cheering on the fact a bad little girl was being punished. The spanking continued, his hand peppering my skin with one smack after the other, increasing with intensity. The pain intensified, enough so I threw back my hand. He wrenched it easily, ya

And makes her count the number of blows he delivered. "Thirty..." he's already been spanked thirty times. And her g-nitalia began to ache and numb. And Luke observed her white skin turning red. When Luke was finished and satisfied with his spanking, he turned Rye around so that he was facing him. When he forced her to face him, he noticed her br-asts jiggle. Now, he was inclined to suck it again, but he maintained his self-control. He needs discipline. He does not wish to enter his shaft into the woman he despises.

he declared, delivering sharp spanks to each cheek, moving from one to the other. "Curse you! Damn you!" The sound of his hand making contact with my bare skin echoed in my ears. The initial shock was soon replaced by a growing pain that spread through my skin and muscles. He was a man on a mission, delivering increasingly forceful and rapid spanks with precision. The pain turned into anguish, and I kicked out in an attempt to break free from his grasp. "I despise you!" I exclaimed. "Feel free to hate me, but you will still follow my rules," he retorted, exasperated, shifting to a seated position and pulling me onto his lap.

I followed how he cringed every time the soft swish of the belt rang in the air before it landed on his back. “Hmm, I like the sound of this,” I heard the man mutter. “I would have never been able to spank him so that it hurts, and I really needed someone to do it,” he told Marco, all the while his gaze trained on his submissive. The poor man whimpered when Marco’s hand reached out to knead his redded flesh almost conversationally. “Well, I have had my practice,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and for a brief second the corner of his eyes met mine.

He smiles gently and nods and then the next spank falls. I start crying again and pretty much cry through all of the rest of the spanks. He pauses after each, and I never say, “red,” so the next one happens. To tell the truth, I lose count of the spanks so I don’t even know when the tenth one hits. I’m in more pain than I can recall ever feeling my entire damned life! I’m hornier than my entire damned life! And I am crushing on this man so hard, it’s not even funny.

Riley was now explaining in a calm but too cold manner. "No, Alpha, please! I beg you, make it twenty lashes! I can take it! I deserve it, not her." He then turned around to his female, who was now hugging her body, scared of her clothes being taken off, but none of Riley’s men were approaching her yet. The man, whom Riley called Manuel, on the other hand, was already bare-chested. "Leave now, Ebba! I’m sorry, I will take the lashes. I deserve this. Just go!" Tears kept streaming down the face of the man as he kept pushing his female away from him.

"When you say you can be punished, what does that mean?" "Usually, it means a spanking, either by his hand or a paddle. Sometimes we're whipped with a nine stranded flogger. At other times, the punishment consists of orgasm denial or forced orgasms." "Doesn't it hurt to be spanked, paddled and whipped?" "It does, but it's a good pain, not a bad pain." "What does that mean, good pain, not bad pain?" "I have two other sex slaves with me now. I'm going to put you on speaker so they can help answer your questions."

He hooked his fingers in the flimsy G-string and yanked it down, exposing my bare, rounded bottom and the slick, red marks he'd left behind. "Like I bet every man you passed today imagined bending you over and... smack!" he spanked me again. "Fuck! I don't even want to think about it or say it but maybe, I should create a technology and see those men minds. Then, I'll have those guilty ones... to their feet." Slowly, I felt his rubbed his hand over my heated flesh, teasing it a bit before delivering another soft smack. "Oh fuck, I think I'm going to come," I whimpered, spreading my legs aside.