DontAskDoTell
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Joined: 2/14/2010
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He walked into the room and assessed the situation. She stood before him, facing him but eyes politely averted.
His eyes landed on her. "Lift your dress," he ordered. Silently, she reached down, grasped the hem of her dress, and lifted it up revealing the lacy panties she had carefully picked out for this occasion.
"I suppose I have been unclear," he said. "It is inappropriate for you to wear underwear in my presence." Her downcast eyes fell further. She had already let him down.
He strode toward her, turned her around, and very slowly pushed her down over the arm of a nearby chair. The descent must have taken over a minute, with his hand barely touching her neck yet somehow feeling like a forceful command. After her long descent, she ended in one of the most vulnerable positions: ass pointing outward, legs slightly spread, face nestled in the arm of a cheap motel room chair.
It felt like she was stuck in this moment for an eternity. She could feel his presence behind her, but the entire world seemed to be perfectly still. After some indeterminately long time, she felt his hand casually grasp the hem of her dress and lift it onto her back.
Only moments later, he grabbed the band of her carefully-chosen panties and unceremoniously pulled them down to her knees, leaving them there. For some reason, this made her feel like a little school girl: completely exposed, with her own garments trapping her in a pose of complete exposure.
He was still standing over her, though somehow his voice sounded like he was breathing directly into her ear: "You understand how you have disappointed me, right?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but as the first syllable came out, she felt a thunderous slap on her exposed ass. Her answer ended up being something like, "Yiii!"
He repeated himself, and the exact same scenario played out agin, this time with the slap landing on the other cheek.
This happened again, with a sort of rhythmic quality. It was like a metronome of question -- no statement -- and punishment. By the fourth time, she was able to say "Yes, sir" to his question.
The blows continued on a perfect rhythm. On the seventh occasion, instead of a thundering slap on her left cheek, she felt a faint, almost imperceptible caress along the length of her closely cropped muff. The juxtaposition made her gasp. Especially when the next and next and next blows were again heavy spanks.
But then again, the spanks would occasionally be replaced by those soft caresses. Soon, she started to confuse the two. A particularly brutal blow would land against her ass and she would feel a tremble along her spine as if he had just landed the softest kiss on her now-soaking pussy. And a gentle caress would sear like a painful lashing.
She couldn't tell how long this lasted, but after a while, she thought she was starting to sort it out. The next beat of the metronome was certain to be a particularly hard slap on the left cheek. And instead, she felt his cock push into her. The pace changed completely. Suddenly he was throbbing inside her at the pace of his own thumping heartbeat.
...
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What is she expecting? - 
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