Tag Archives: domina

Spankings – She knows when I need one


Last night, I was overwhelmed. I’d been sick for more than a week, and Thursday would be my first real day back at work. After being out for so long, I had more to do at work than I could possibly finish, and I’d been unusually quiet and grouchy all day. I hadn’t been nice to my girlfriend. I hadn’t been nice at all.

Luckily, my girlfriend, Sofia, knows me better than I know myself. After dinner, she called me from the living room. Ours is a small house. I walked from the kitchen to the living, still sulking and pissy.

Spanking

Spankings – She knows when I need one

Sofia caught me as I walked by, and pulled me around the couch. She sat down, still holding my wrist, and then took me across her lap. It’s rare for Sofia to take the lead. Normally, I Top in this relationship. But something in Sofia’s eyes told me it was my turn to be spanked good and proper.

It felt wonderful to be laying across her lap. I felt safe and cared for. And it was a relief to get a break from being the Dominant Bitch. O, don’t get me wrong. I like being Dominant. After our respective submissive upbringings at the hands of the Catholic church, I turned into a full-on radical Femdom for a couple of years. I’ve calmed down some since then, but still, mostly I take the lead.

Not this time. Once I was secure in Sofia’s lap, she snatched up my dress and yanked down my panties. Then she let loose with a series of stinging slaps to my behind! My sweet Sofia didn’t waste any time at all on a genteel warm-up. She whacked my ass hard.

And I loved it! I felt vulnerable and open, and yet I knew that I was totally safe at the same moment.

I also felt the burning in my ass cheeks, and I wiggled hard in Sofia’s lap. But bless her, my girl did not hold back one bit, even though I was kicking and whimpering. She spanked me harder and harder, and my bottom stung with the heat. But every so often, she’d pause in the smacking, and ever-so-lightly brush the furious red hand prints on my butt with her fingertips.

I was squealing by the time she was finished.

Later that night, I thanked her for the spanking. It’s not often that I’m on the receiving end of a spanking. But this time, Sofia knew exactly what I needed and gave it to me.

Spanking relationships – keeping them interesting


Spanking

Keep Spanking interesting

Keeping things interesting in a spanking relationship can be a challenge, both in real life and in spanking stories. I mean, how many times can I write SMACK and still keep a reader’s interest? Likewise, how many times can I swat my girlfriend Sophia’s behind before it descends into a wallow of punishment that’s nothing more than pain?

Spanking stories, as well as relationships, need variety. I pay attention to my partner and to my readers. Certainly, I can vary the instruments that I use to deliver a spanking. That keeps both readers and Sopia interested. My favorite way to spank my girlfriend is my bare hand to Sophia’s bare butt. I think I’ve said that often enough. I love the feel of her skin under my hand. She has a nice butt – round and full, a true Hispanic girl, with cheeks that demand to be touched. Yet, we experiment with different spanking implements and toys just to add a little spice to our relationship: paddles, a wooden ladle, a slipper. We’ve tried a belt – a little too much sting until we’re whipped into the proper passion.

And we have our toys. The insertables include butt plugs, vibrators, anal beads, a butterfly, love eggs. A little bit of everything. Clothing varies. We play some games. Both of us have our school uniforms, and Sophia’s still fits. The naughty Catholic school girl is a favorite game, and I have a nun’s habit. One day, I hope to get a latex habit, but that’s just not in the budget at this point. But I do have a catsuit!

So that’s spanking instruments, toys and clothing. A bit or role playing. But even that would get boring, if all I did was SMACK SMACK SMACK Sophia’s behind. There’s more to our spanking relationship than that, and “paying attention,” to my partner, as well as my readers, is what keeps things interesting.

I rarely deliver more than one SWAT at a time to Sophia’s cute butt. Ocassionally I’ll slap in a quick group of three, but that’s not the norm.

Most spankings start with a tease. Sometimes Sophia waits in the corner, till I’m ready to spank her butt. If she’s in the corner, Sophia is naked, with her hands on her head, while I watch for any forbidden moves. Sometimes Sophia is playful, and she’ll try to sneak a finger down to masturbate while she’s waiting for a spanking. Other times, she waits quietly, trembling in the corner, until I’m ready to begin.

When it’s time, I take Sophia over my knee and gently stroke her full, round bottom in advance of the first impact. I play with her skin – run my fingers up and down the cleft in her behind. Only when she’s completely relaxed and distracted do I let loose with that first WHACK.

But the second impact doesnt come right away. Once I’ve landed that first strike, I let my fingertips trace the red hand print I’ve spanked into her butt. I listen to her breath and pay attention to whether she’s rigid and stiff in my arms, or relaxed, like she should be. Sophia is an experienced sub, and I’ve Topped in our relationship for a long time. We know our roles, and yet there are still surprises – so long as I pay attention.

The second WHACK is the one that gets Sophia’s attention, and at that point, she grinds her pubic bone into my lap, scrubbing her pussy against my skirt. We haven’t settled into a rhythm at this point. We’re still exploring the level of pain that she wants, and that I care to deliver.

Between the impacts, my fingers are not idle. I use my nails to lightly scratch her thighs, her butt cheeks and the opening to her pussy. I tug on her pubic hairs; Sophia gets impatient whenever I do that, and she raises her ass for the next SWAT. I can tell that she’s ready to get on with the game.

The third and forth WHACKS will be quick, one to each cheek, spanking in a sweet glow. By this time, I know that Sophia is wet. I slip my fingers down the crack of her butt

Alisa’s Spanking – a fragment


She patted Alisa’s bottom lightly, taking care to place her palm squarely on both of the young woman’s bottom cheeks. It was as though Milicent was marking her territory with preliminary spankings. Softly. Gently. Milicent’s hand rose and fell, each time barely tapping Alisa’s behind.

Nevertheless, Alisa sucked in a sharp breath with each experimental stroke. Her buttocks clenched, and I admired the young woman’s finely developed muscles. Alisa knew better than to tighten in advance of a spanking. It only added fire to the strikes. But a human’s instinct is to either fight or flee. Alisa could do neither, so instead her body froze.

And then Milicent’s hand rose high above Alisa’s precious bottom. This, I knew, was not a practice swing, and I winced as the blow fell smartly across Alisa’s bare bottom. The resulting crack was like a pistol shot in the small room.

Alisa squeaked when the swat met her flesh. She jerked up her head, and I could see the pain in her blushing face. She kicked her feet, but held her tongue, and I had to admire her courage as the second blow fell.

For the first 10 strokes, Alisa no more than squeaked or moaned, though she arched her back, head and heels up, with tears bright in her eyes. By the 20th stroke, Alisa’s silence broke; she cried like a child, her bottom a bright red. As the 30th swat fell, Alisa was wiggling violently in Milicent’s lap. Alisa bawled loudly, and I realized that I’d never heard a grown woman issue sounds so hoarse and fearful.

At 35 swats, Milicent stopped the spanking, and then resumed the gentle pats that had begun this spanking session. After a moment, she set Alisa free. The young woman danced on her toes and rubbed her bare bottom, too preoccupied to lower her skirt. I watched as Alisa’s fingers tenderly probed her sore behind. Mentally, I sent her good wishes and willed her to meet my eyes. I wanted to tell her that it was okay; that the spanking would fade.

“All right, Heather.” Milicent raised her eyes to mine and beckoned with one finger. “It’s your turn.”

Cocktails and Books’s Reviews – Spanking Detective: The Case of the Killer Heels


Spanking Detective: The Case of the Killer Heels

Spanking Detective: The Case of the Killer Heels

Reviewed by Rhonda for Cocktails and Books

When you are disobedient sometime the only way to get your attention is through a little discipline. Author Alice Dark bring light to getting her characters to bring on the heat and by any means necessary in this delightfully sexy, naughty read Spanking Detective: The Case of the Killer Heels.

The story elements are interesting and well developed from head to the end of the stilettos as Ms. Dark’s key characters investigate and handle the mysterious murder case, cheating mates, kidnapping as the like..

Diana Street is a hard nose detective who has no time for soft talk and BS. Diana is the classic dominant fem and demands to be obeyed. If you break the rules, commit the crime you had better be ready for the consequences.

Read More at http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/714298235

Anita’s Caning – a fragment


Spanked

Naughty girls need a spanking!

“Come on, Anita. Unless you want to dig yourself deeper into trouble, you will learn to pay attention and obey!”

Anita ducked her head, and her blond bangs fell forward, obscuring her eyes. She was a pretty young woman, high-spirited, and as a maid, much more trouble than she was worth. But I knew that I could tame this girl. All it would take was time and determination.

I walked to the cabinet mounted against the right wall of my office. I had the cabinet built specially for this room, and the dark, wooden cabinet was flush to the wall. I opened the door slowly and selected a medium length rattan cane. The slender implement was highly polished, thin and whippy. At just over three feet long, the cane would deliver the message I intended.

I glanced back at Anita. She stood with her head down and shoulders tense. I almost felt sorry for the young woman. I knew her comments about my establishment were spoken off-hand, and she never intended for me to overhear her casual remarks. If it had been any of my other workers, I might have ignored the casual slight. Hell, I might even have laughed.

But not with a new maid. Especially not one as proud and haughty as Anita. She had a way of looking down on others in our profession. Of making the other working women feel as if their jobs were demeaning – as if a maid is somehow less important than other staff members. It wasn’t that long ago that Anita was a rich girl; and that novelty of wealth had yet to disperse from her ‘better-than-thou’ attitude toward the rest of us.

Anita, I decided, was overdue for a caning.

“I want you to take off your skirt, Anita, and then bend over the back of that chair.”

When I spoke these words, I finally had her attention. Anita jerked her head up. She glanced at the chair and opened her mouth to protest.

I raised the cane in warning. “Do you have more to say before I’ve decided how many strokes you’ll recieve?”

Anita stopped. Silently, she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. By now she knew that she was going to be caned and that anything she said would only make it worse.

Anna was a tall girl, pretty in her dark pantyhose and white blouse. She was a natural blond, with a clear complexion. Anita was slim without being bony and had no difficulty bending over the back of the chair I’d indicated.

“Grip the seat tightly,” I said, motioning to the wicker seat. “If you move during this caning, we will begin again. Is that clear?”

Anita’s hair hung in her face, but she bobbed her head up and down in understanding. I knew this formerly rich girl had never been whipped before; and she had no idea what was really coming.

Her dark pantyhose was stretched tightly over her bottom, and I could see the outline of her panties beneath the translucent fabric. Anita trembled in anticipation of the caning she was about to receive. Her stiff posture indicated that she was ready to have this over with.

But I wasn’t yet finished with the design of this particular punishment. I thumbed the intercom box on my office desk. “Elizabeth?”

“Yes, ma’am,” my receptionist answered.

“You and Gloria come into my office. There’s something I want you to see.”

Still bent over the chair, Anita twisted her head to the side. Her blue eyes were wide with fear. She hadn’t counted on an audience. But before Anita could say anything, I raised the cane and flicked it lightly against the young woman’s bottom. Anita yelped, though an impact that slight could scarcely have stung at all.

“Witnesses,” I said, cutting off any chance of protest. “You’ve shamed me and the rest of the women who work here. These two women will witness your punishment.”

When the door to my office opened, I didn’t wait to see who was there. I simply raised the cane high over my shoulder, took aim on Anita’s quivering bottom, and whipped her sharply across the center of buttocks. As the first of Anita’s first many cries filled the room, I heard two girls giggling at the door behind me, and I knew that Anita would remember this lesson for a long time.