Spanking Story Free Novels & Stories

My 47 year old mother is going to marry this month so she wanted me to go home and help her prepare for her wedding. Of course I wanted her to be happy. But then, I haven’t even met her boyfriend. I don’t know if he’s good or what, and now they are going to marry that easily? They just met last month as what mom said! Oh god. Too much pain in the ass that I wanted it to be fucked right now. “Lower your voice, damn it. Someone might hear you!” He muttered then spanked my butt so hard I moaned again. I don’t really think he cares about the crowd, if ever someone passes by and saw us fucking then congrats to them, they have a beautiful show to watch.

My cock sprang free, slapping against my stomach. “Look at you,” he rasped, smearing the pre-cum over my tip with his thumb. “Leaking like a fucking faucet.” I bucked into his hand. SMACK. His palm cracked across my ass and I yelped, the sting blooming into heat. “Quiet,” he hissed, spanking me again. “You want the whole choir hearing how much of a slut you are for Daddy’s cock?” I shook my head, biting my lip. “No—please—just you—”

Oliver called me a hussy and said I wear skirts just so he can look… But you bought this skirt, and I really like it. Hearing the word "hussy" come out of my five-year-old's mouth hurt so much it felt like I was pierced with needles. I pulled her close and comfortingly said, "You did nothing wrong, Ava. The clothes are beautiful, and what is ugly is the people's thoughts. "Tomorrow, I'm putting you in the prettiest princess dress." After comforting Ava, I called my husband, Harvey Hoffman. "Honey, something happened at the kindergarten today—" "Madelyn Pennington! Can you stop already?" he irritatedly cut me off. "I'm working myself to death for this family, so could you stop bothering me wi

“Yes please.” Another hard spank and I cried out in pain. “Yes, what?” He asked firmly. “Yes sir, please.” He hummed in response. “You did well, baby but I'm not done just yet.” I felt like I couldn't take it anymore. I was getting tired and sore from the intense spanking. He didn't listen to my pleas, only flipped me over again, and to my surprise, took off the cuffs on my ankles. The ones on my wrists he released, only to lock my hands behind my back instead.

Harry’s breath audibly caught. “I mean,” Francine said, unzipping her jeans and shoving them down her legs, “why not fuck me?” Harry stared. His mouth opened, then closed. Color flushed his cheeks. “I… I can’t.” “Can’t?” Francine stepped closer, now naked except for her small socks. The cool bus air kissed her skin, but her core was blazing. “I’ve never… I’m still a virgin,” he whispered, the confession seeming to shame him.

His cum from before mixed with my fresh wetness leaked out around his cock running down my thighs dripping onto the floor in messy puddles. I was moaning nonstop voice breaking. “Daddy—yes—harder—fuck me harder—” He grabbed my hair yanked my head back so my back arched deep. The new angle let him hit even deeper cock bullying that spot inside me over and over. My legs started shaking thighs trembling so hard I thought they would give out. “Legs shaking already baby?” he laughed low spanking me again. “You love getting railed like this don’t you? Bent over like a dirty little slut in my shop.”

I moaned. Another spank. Harder this time. My pussy throbbed with every slap. “You will count them,” he said. “One… Two… Three…” I moaned as he spanked me again and again. My ass was getting hot and red. By the tenth spank, I was pushing my ass back, begging for more without words. Uncle Ken stopped and rubbed my sore cheeks gently. His fingers slipped under my thong and pulled it to the side. He touched my wet pussy lips lightly, spreading my juices.

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.

I ordered, spanking her cheeks hard—left, right, alternating until they glowed crimson, the handprints blooming like brands. She complied with a whimper, pushing her ass higher, her face buried in the couch cushions. "Spank me more, Alexander—punish me for being late today, for making you wait!" she pleaded, her voice muffled but desperate. I smirked, the memory of her tardiness fueling my strikes. Each slap echoed like a gunshot, her skin jiggling, her cries growing louder. "Yes! Harder—make it sting! I'm sorry, sir—I'll never be late again!"

She understood he was furious, and by the 10th spank, her tears flew uncontrollably. “No more,” she begged. Instead of counting, she felt all raw and red. "Shh,” 20 more, and we can stop this,” he spanked her again, “Will you ever pull that stunt again?” (spank). “11,” she said instead of answering. “Answer me,” he rubbed her round bottom, landing another spank. “No,” she shook her head, “Do you know why you are being punished?” he asked, spanking her. “12,” she was very diligent in counting those spanks. As stupid as it sounded, she didn’t want to get spanked again.