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Message-ID: <28668asstr$980968203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: mfsmith@operamail.com (Mark Smith)
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2001 01:29:22 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Tie Me Up And Spank Me (MF)
Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2001 14:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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TIE ME UP AND SPANK ME
by Mark Smith

Copyright 2001by Mark Smith
Feel free to treat this story as you will.  I ask only that you let me
know if you archive or repost it: it's good for my ego.

Any and all responses are eagerly awaited.  Please email me at
mfsmith@operamail.com

This is my first completed and posted story.  Please be gentle with
me.

 

My girlfriend's a bit strange.

Personally, I blame it on her name.  The poor girl's a victim of  that
late Twentieth Century fetish for messing about with the spelling of
otherwise perfectly normal names.  I've always thought that Caitlin is
quite a pretty name, but somehow it loses its magic when you know that
it's spelled Kaytlynne.

My way of dealing with it is to think of her as, and call her  Kate.
I quite consciously visualise that spelling every time her name comes
into my head.  I shudder when her friends call her Kaytlynne, because
I can see the name in my head as if lit up in neon lettering.

Maybe it's not right to call her strange.  Perhaps I should be more
tolerant and just say she's different from me.  Sexually, for example,
she's not at all like me.  She's aggressive and adventurous, whereas
I'm ... well ... not.  She wants to try new things, while I'm quite
happy with the same old things.  They haven't stopped exciting  me yet
and I'm happy to stick with what I know works for me.

My Kate, however, is a different kettle of fish entirely.  "Why don't
we try this?" she'll ask me, throwing a magazine onto the dinner
table.  Usually it's a women's magazine with one of those "sealed
sections", wherein reside all sorts of titillation for the modern
woman, displaying the latest fashions in sexual positions and/or
fetishes.

At this point I usually try to change the subject, often by saying
something like "Please get that magazine off my food," but she
inevitably returns to the subject later.

"Well, what do you reckon?" and the magazine will land meaningfully
again, open to a page showing in some detail an improbable sexual act
involving a chair, a clock, some mustard and two or more naked people.

Our negotiations usually end in a compromise.  We lose the mustard and
the third and fourth persons and proceed to make what we can of the
chair, the clock and ourselves.  I usually find it all a bit too
forced for me to be able to enjoy completely, and Kate no doubt
worries that she's missing out on something that the mustard and the
extras would have added.

Our relationship is a bit like this in all things, not just sex.  It
may sound as though we're not very compatible, but we generally get on
very well indeed.  Neither of us embraces the other's extremes, but we
share the middle ground quite happily.  We don't always use the
missionary position and we don't always need toys or food in bed.  We
accept that she's weird and I'm conservative and we enjoy the things
we have in common.  Our differences are amusedly tolerated, and our
awareness of them helps to add some spice to our relationship.

To be fair, it wasn't Kate that got me into trouble.  It was me.  And
the television.  I'm not going to let the TV escape its share of the
blame for this.  We were lying on our bed, quite early in the evening,
with the TV on.  This may sound strange to some people who think that
it's not normal to have a TV in the bedroom, but these are people who
have no appreciation of the importance of late-night televised sport.

The problem was that there was absolutely nothing worth watching.  If
you were the sort of person with a quote from Pink Floyd for every
occasion, then the line about "thirteen channels of shit on the TV to
choose from" would probably pop into your head.

"What are we going to do?" said Kate, pondering aloud rather than
actually asking.  "The pub, a video, a desperate search for an unread
good book?"

"How about sex?" I suggested, perhaps no more than half-seriously.
Don't get the idea that I'm not interested in sex.  I know what I
like, and I like it a lot.  I don't usually initiate it though, Kate
generally does quite enough of that to keep us both happy.

"What?" she exclaimed in mock surprise, "Don't tell more you're
turning into a sexual aggressor!"

"It must be all these years under your influence," I suggested, "Next
thing you know I'll be suggesting something kinky."

She sat up interestedly.  "This I've got to see.  Come on then, tell
me how you want it and I'm all yours.  No holes barred, as they say,
no kink too much.  Place your orders here."

"OK Mistress," I grinned at her, "Why don't you tie me up and spank
me?"

A mile spread across Kate's face as she pondered this.  "Right," she
decided, "You stay there and I'll get the necessary bits and pieces."

With this she turned off the TV and left the room with a purposeful
look on here face.  I knew where she was going: her Junk Room.  We
have an entire room dedicated to things that Kate has collected over
the years.  She never, ever throws anything away if she thinks that
there's even the slightest chance that she might find a use for it one
day.

What's more, she knows precisely what's in there and where it is.  To
everyone else on this planet, her Junk Room is an intimidating mess.
Kate, though, can walk in and almost instantly locate whatever she
wants.

Sure enough, she was back in what seemed like only seconds.  She
jumped back onto the bed and showed me the fruits of her journey.
 From the depths of the Junk Room she had procured four small letter
straps, complete with buckles.  I knew better than to ask where she'd
got them from, their history was sure to be even more unlikely than
their presence.

"OK then, get your gear off and get face down."

"Face down?"

"Well," she said slowly, as if speaking to an idiot, "I assumed that
spanking was going to involve your bum, and I'm going to find it a bit
hard to spank it if it's pointing at the bed.  Of course, I can always
find another part of you to spank."

I had to admit that it made sense, so I undressed quickly and laid
face down on the bed.

Kate looked at me and grinned.  "Enjoying this?"

Having seen me from front on, she knew full well that I was aroused.
The thought of being tied up and spanked didn't do much for me but I
was actually feeling quite adventurous for a change and, knowing Kate,
there would be more and better to come.

She was very efficient when it came to tying me up, so efficient that
I think she must have done it before.  I didn't even have time for
second thoughts before my four limbs were firmly tied to the four
corners of the bed.

I turned my head sideways to look at Kate, who was still fully
clothed.  "What now?" I asked her.

"I think this is where I'm supposed to ask you if you've been a bad
boy," she replied with a grin.

"Very bad, Mistress," I admitted, playing my role to the hilt.

"I think you'll have to be punished then.  Bad boys deserve
punishment."  As she said this she brought her hand towards my bottom.
I tensed, but she just fondled my bum.  I made the mistake of
relaxing.  Having lulled me into a false sense of security, she lifted
her hand quickly and brought it down hard.

The snapping sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed around the room, but
it was a moment longer before my nerve endings saw fit to transmit the
pain to my brain.  Then I yelled out in surprise and pain, I hadn't
expected her to hit me so hard.

"What's wrong?  Not what you expected?"  Kate rubbed her hand gently
over my sore bottom.

"Not exactly," I managed through gritted teeth.

"Oh well, you should be careful what you ask for then."

With this she turned away from me and started walking towards the
door.

"Kate?  Where are you going?"

"I thought I might go to the pub for a while."

"You mean we've finished?"

"Sure, what else did you expect."

"Well," I offered plaintively, "I was hoping that a fuck wasn't out of
the question."

"You should have asked for one then," she suggested, "I did everything
that you asked.  I tied you up and spanked you."

"I see.  It seems that I just took some things for granted.  Is it too
late to add some requests?"

"Most definitely.  I'm thirsty," and she left the room.

"Kate.  Kate!  Untie me?"

"As you said, you took some things for granted," she called from
somewhere near the front door.

This was not the first time I'd been the victim of Kate's sense of
humour, and my previous experiences led me to suspect that she was
quite serious about going out and leaving me there.  Still, it was
worth one last try.

"Kaytlynne?  You can't leave me here with nothing to do!"

For a moment I thought it had worked.  Her footsteps came back towards
the bedroom and she pushed the door open and walked in.

"You're right, I can't leave you with nothing to do."  She picked up
the TV remote control from where she'd left it and placed it in my
hand.  "See you at closing time."

She left the room again, her footsteps receded again and the front
door opened and closed.

Thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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