Mature Spanking Novels & Stories

Sabrina moaned, but at the same time she waved her bum back and forth making it clear that she wanted more. You went back to spanking her again, this time swapping back and forth between the cheeks which made her stumble a few times on the count. By the end, her entire ass was a bright, warm pink and she'd gotten another thirteen or so spanks on each cheek, and she'd abandoned trying to correct her 'sirs' from Daddy.

It was quite clear that he was definitely enjoying my ordeal. "How many spanks do you think would suffice for these mistakes?" He asked. "I am not a kid that you will spank," I retaliated. "You are everything that I want you to be," he shot back, his words dripping with possessiveness, "and be glad that I am leaving you just by spanking." What a joke! "I believe five spanks for each mistake should suffice to start," His hand pressed against my buttock, a chilling sensation that sent shivers down my spine. "Now, count for me."

“There’s nothing wrong with kink. You shouldn’t feel shame for having those desires.” “Yes, but…what kind of normal, decent person likes being beaten up?” “Do I beat you up?” I asked, only slightly amused. “You know what I mean.” I smiled and slid off the desk. I crouched in front of her, lifted her hands off the folder, and opened it. “A spanking is not the same as a beating. I don’t use my fists. I will never use my fists on you.” I turned the first page over and showed her. “See?” I traced the finger down my list of hard no’s. “No punching.”

" I still found it hard to formulate any sentence. "You are acting like a fucking brat. That's what you're doing and since you want to act like a fucking brat, I'll treat you like one" he grabbed me again, and in the next moment, I was thrown over his lap, his fingers yanking down my bottom and then I felt the stinging pain on my ass. My body froze as I tried to process what was happening. He was spanking me? Like he would spank a child. The thought barely formed when he struck me again, harder than the first time and I whimpered under his touch.

“Fuck me like you own this dick. Make me cum deep inside you.” I rode him even faster, slamming down onto his cock with wild abandon. My ass bounced hard against his thighs with every drop. The wet, filthy sound of my pussy sliding up and down his dick filled the room. Sweat coated our bodies. My breasts bounced heavily in his hands as I fucked him without mercy. Nova suddenly gripped my ass with both hands and started spanking me hard. The sharp slaps echoed through the room. “Fuck yes,” he growled. “Bounce that ass on my cock. Just like that, you dirty slut.”

The sounds of the rain and thunder mixed with the wet noises his fingers made as they fucked her. Jake watched her face the whole time. “That’s it. Feel how wet you are. You’ve been thinking about this cock, haven’t you?” She nodded, too turned on to lie. “Yes… I have.” He added a third finger, stretching her. The pressure built fast. Mira’s legs started to tremble. She grabbed the sheets, her knuckles turning white.

I can feel myself clenching, dripping for him, totally lost in it. Holy fuck. I’m in a sex club, bare-assed over Caleb Strowman’s lap, and he’s spanking me like he owns me. And I’m loving every goddamn second of it.

he said warmly, “but good girls still need discipline.” He began spanking me, landing swats across my breasts, inner thighs, and my swollen pussy. Each slap made me jerk and moan loudly. The pain bloomed into heat that went straight to my clit. Ms. Voss turned on a powerful wand vibrator and pressed it firmly against my clit while he continued spanking. The combination made me groan and writhe against the ropes while they edged me like there was no tomorrow. Every time I got close, they pulled the vibrator away and stopped spanking, leaving me trembling and pleading with random nosies.

Every spank was perfectly placed, overlapping welts, building heat until my ass felt like it had been dipped in lava. By fifteen I was sobbing openly with my snot smearing the table, and my thighs trembling. By twenty-five my pussy was clenching rhythmically, my squirt was dripping down my naked legs. He stopped spanking me after thirty. There was silence in the room except for my ragged breathing and the wet sound of my own arousal. Then the slow, deliberate clink of his belt buckle followed shortly. My whole body tensed as I tilted my neck in his direction to take a quick look at him.

“You wouldn’t put me down! You’ve hit me plenty of times—so what if I hit you twice?” His eyes darkened, sharp with a dangerously calm fury. He gripped my jaw, his fingers rough but not painful. “Spanking,” he said slowly, mockery dripping from every syllable, “is a form of sexual suggestion. Is this how you plan to handle our divorce?” My breath caught. Sexual? My cheeks flamed. “That’s ridiculous!” I protested. “You started it! You were spanking me for years—since I was fifteen! How is it discipline when you do it, but something else when I do?”