The Erotica of Al X
(MF MDom spank mast)
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Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material.
It is NOT suitable for minors.
If you are a minor, LEAVE NOW as it is illegal for you to be here.
If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material
in your community, LEAVE NOW.
If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, LEAVE NOW.
This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to
events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental.
These stories are pure fiction and do not promote or condone the
activities described herein, especially when it comes to unsafe
sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.
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Summary: Maddy asks an internet friend to give her a 'real' spanking.
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"Spanking Maddy"
by Al X
Maddy has the hunger, an unsatisfied craving for a real spanking, the kind that would leave her with tears in her eyes and red, swollen ass cheeks red. The kind of spanking her husband couldn't provide.
Her husband is kind and loving, a good man, a good provider, good in bed, but too submissive to take charge and spank her the way she needs to be spanked. She dominates him, putting him in her panties and having him lick his own cum from her fingers. How can a man like that satisfy her hunger?
For months we swap e-mails and instant messages. We even have a number of phone conversations, and it's great to hear her voice, soft and sexy. All of our communications are focused on her need for a real spanking and the inability of her husband to provide it. On the first Wednesday in December, I make a decision. "I live two hours from you. I can come to you house this weekend and give you what you need."
She e-mails me directions to their house. "I'm cumming just thinking about it," she writes. "What time shall I expect you?"
"I'll be there on Friday afternoon, while Bill is at work."
Our plans are set. I tell her to wear her tightest jeans, and a sheer blouse, no bra.
On Friday morning I wear a polo shirt and loose pants (my cock is going to be hard all day and it's going to need room to grow). I leave my house at noon, and follow Maddy's Mapquest directions to her town. Two hours and fifteen minutes later, I pull into what I hope is their driveway. A woman peeks through the window, then throws me a wave. I take out my leather bag, lock up the car, then walk to their doorway.
The door opens before I can knock, and there stands Maddy.
She's dressed in tight jeans and a sheer white peasant blouse. Her green eyes are sparkling, a dazzling contrast to her red hair. She offers a nervous smile and says hello, still holding the door. I don't reply. Instead I look her up and down, being quite obvious that that I'm checking her out. Her jeans are tight and the panty line is clearly visible. I can almost make out the lips in her crotch. Her nipples are erect and pressing against the blouse. Her cheeks are flushed, her toenails painted torrid red.
My first words to her are a command: "Turn around." She willingly complies. She turns her body and displays her wonderful ass to me, the curves squeezed into denim. "Could those jeans be any tighter?"
She doesn't answer. She just stands and waits, knowing I am taking pleasure in gazing at her butt.
She begins to get nervous, standing out here where a neighbor might see her. I have her turn around, then ask: "Tell me, Maddy, what is it you desire?"
She bites her lip. "I want you to come inside and … and spank my ass."
"And your husband? Does he know?"
"Not yet. But he's submissive … to me."
"And you? Who are you to submit to?"
"You," she says. The pleading look in her eyes reveals how badly she wants this.
"To invite me into your house is to cede control to me. Do you understand?"
She opens the door wider. "Come in, Al." A pause. "Please."
I walk in and find the living room to my satisfaction. When she offers me a glass of wine, I tell her, "In time." I sit on the sofa and have her approach me. She stands before me, nervous, and places her hand behind her back. "You're nipples are hard," I tell her, and we both stare at the dark circles under her blouse. I reach over and touch her thigh, and with gentle pressure I turn her until her back is to me. She drops her hands to her side. I run my hand over her ass, first one cheek, then the other. "Will I be spanking your ass today?"
"If it is your pleasure."
I run my hand down the crack of her ass, then onto her inner thigh. "And your thighs?"
"If it is your pleasure."
Boldly, I let my hand run upwards until my fingers are gliding over her crotch. "And your sex? Will I be spanking your sex?"
Again: "If it is your pleasure."
"It feels like it is YOUR pleasure," I tell her, for her jeans are already damp. I massage her pussy through the jeans. "What would your husband think if he knew you were in here getting your pussy rubbed by a stranger?"
"I don't care," she answers with a wildness in her voice.
I release my hand. "My wine, please," I tell her. She looks disappointed that I've stopped touching her. As she pours a single glass of white wine, she informs me that her husband won't be home for at least two hours. After I take my first sip of wine, I give her instructions. "Go into your bedroom and put on your tightest halter, your shortest skirt, your skimpiest thong. Go." And a final warning: "And no playing with your pussy in there."
Sitting on the sofa I drink my wine and try to coax my erection down. I close my eyes and settle my breathing. But my excitement doesn't diminish, and I'm still hard when she returns. She looks pretty, sexy, hot. I smile in approval, and have her sit on the chair opposite of the sofa. When I ask what color thong she's wearing, she spreads her legs to display a gauzy black thong barely covering her lips. When I finish my wine, she jumps up to refill my glass. "And did you play with your pussy in there?"
"No," she says nervously.
I grab her hand and smell her fingers, rich with the musky scent of her cunt. "Liar."
She stares into my eyes. "Will you punish me for my lie?"
"Only if you ask me to."
She sets the wine bottle on the table. With gracious movement, she bends forward, leaning over me until she lands firmly in my lap. She reaches behind her and pulls her white miniskirt up to present her ass to me. "Please punish me for my lie."
And this is the moment she has been waiting for her. I place my hand firmly on her ass, my palm on one cheek, my fingers reaching to the other. I press down to get a sense of her fleshiness. Then I rub my hand in a circular movement, constantly maintaining pressure. I push my hand deep into her skin, and hold it there for a ten, fifteen seconds. When I release it I can see a faint handprint.
"Put your hands behind your back," I order, and when she does I grasp them with my left hand. I take my hand high in the air and let it land hard on her lower ass cheek. The slap echoes in the room. "More?"
"More," she says.
I slap her other cheek, then wait ten seconds, maybe longer, watching the redness form on her skin. I keep waiting, until she senses what she must do. "More," she tells me, and I slap her again. And we keep this up, her begging for more, me spanking her harder, getting her ass redder and redder, big blotches covering more and more skin. The harder slaps cause her whole body to shake, and she lets out grunts with each painful spanking. It takes her longer and longer to ask for more, and her voice becomes weak, as if she's fighting off tears. I reach the point where I fear I'm hurting her, but when she asks for more, I give it to her. I leave her thighs and pussy alone - I'm saving that for when her husband is around. I slap her a few more times and then she cries out, "No more." I release her hands and watch as her body goes limp.
I am achingly hard now and in need of release. I push her off me until she ends up kneeling in front of me. "I need to cum," I tell her. "Remove my pants."
She reaches over and places her trembling fingers on the top of my pants. She unzips my pants and pulls them down, then carefully slips my underwear down over my cock.
Her eyes are glued to my cock, and she actually licks her lips as I start to stroke myself. "Come on me," she tells me, jutting her tits out to me.
And I do. I shoot a wad of cum out on one breast, then move my cock to the right to shoot a trail of cum to other breast. I wipe the head of my cock on her shirt. I am spent, and fall back on the sofa.
"May I clean you?" she asks. When I nod, she says, "I'll get a washcloth." She rises and heads towards the bathroom. "May I change my shirt."
"No," I tell her. "Keep that cum-stained shirt on."
She returns with a warm wash cloth and tenderly wipes me down. I drink my wine and watch her gently lift my limp penis so she can clean my balls. "What would you do if your husband were here right now?"
"I'd have him clean your cock. Would you like that?"
I look at the clock. Bill should be home within an hour. It's time for me to leave.
THE END
Written during November, 2006 / Revised January 3, 2007
The author welcomes your comments and suggestions for future stories.
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