Grant quickly complied, shucking his clothes and piling them on her dresser until he stood naked and erect. Anticipation thrummed through him.
Her voice drifted to him from the next room. “Lie on the bed on your stomach, with your arms and legs spread.”
They were easy instructions to understand, but hard ones to follow with a cock that didn’t want to be crushed. Tucking it under his stomach, Grant lay on the bed and spread his limbs as she had commanded. His shaft beat against his lower belly like a separate being.
Lying there unable to see anything with the crux of his thighs open, he felt exposed and strangely vulnerable. His dominant side, which emerged mostly at work, wanted him to get up and stand in a position of equal footing when she finally returned. But his kinky, submissive side tingled as he waited breathlessly for what she had planned.
He had a feeling it would be worth it.
Isabelle flushed with excitement over Grant’s quick capitulation. As she slid into her one piece latex cat suit, thoughts of what the night might bring ran like a kinky movie inside her head, and her fingers grew clumsy. Oh, the things I’m going to do to him.
Slipping on her high heels, she grabbed the red lipstick off her vanity and traced the line of her full lips. Finally ready, she strutted out to her bedroom, her tummy tingling with excitement to see Grant's powerful nude body lying spread eagle on her bed.
She could tell he was aware of her presence by the way his body stiffened. Wanting to stretch out the moment and knowing just how vulnerable he must feel, she looked him over slowly, from his finely shaped calves, to the heavy balls between his thighs. With a smile, she walked over to her bed and with one manicured nail, traced a line that started at his ankle and travelled up one of his firm, muscled legs, rounded one of his tense buttocks, and finally crawled up the broad expanse of his back. She had so much of him with which to play.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Grant.”
He shuddered at her words. Not the response she wanted. She tweaked one of his ass cheeks, and he yelped.
“The correct answer is yes, mistress.”
“Yes, mistress,” he repeated, a smile filling his voice.
He didn’t seem to be taking the situation quite seriously enough. He thought they were just having fun and playing a game. By the end of the night, however, he’d know differently.
She knelt on the bed between his spread legs and dug her fingers into his thighs. His body shook. Then she traced a line down the crevice of his ass with one finger. Immediately, he clenched his cheeks tight. She frowned at his back. She didn’t like being denied. She tickled his balls in hopes that he’d relax, but his cheeks remained tightly clenched.
“Relax,” she commanded.
He shook his head. “I don’t like to be touched there.”
That wasn’t the right answer. Getting off the bed, Isabelle pulled a chair out from the wall and sat in it. “Come drape yourself over my knees.”
“Why?” He turned to look her, his eyes confused. "I don't understand. What are you going to do?"
“Either do as I say, or you can leave now.” She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them out of her costume. "Do you understand?"
“Yes, mistress.” He swallowed hard and got off the bed, his towering figure casting a shadow over her.
She looked up at him with a stern face. His curious urge to comply was obviously warring with his masterful side, but his curiosity won out. Without questioning her any further, he folded his long frame over her knees. His knees touched the floor on one side, while his head hung down on the other. He braced his hands on the floor so as to not crush her with his weight.
Isabelle smiled when his rigid cock brushed her thigh. The sight of his pale, tightly clenched buttocks proved irresistible. She ran her hand across them, over and over, gently stroking him until he relaxed.
Crack! The slap of her hand against his bare flesh echoed loudly in the room-as did Grant’s curse when he jumped up and rubbed his offended posterior.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed.
“Get back over my knee right now,” she commanded, pointing to her lap. The first moment of truth had arrived. Would Grant let her take control? Would he let her punish him?
Grant’s ass stung but truth be told, the pain made his cock harder even as the action shocked him.
She’d spanked him without either warning or remorse, and now she sat there looking like a fucking goddess, waiting expectantly in a one piece suit made to tempt a man to sin. Pointing at her lap again, she just looked at him, her expression daring him to forget the rules he’d been taught all his life about normal sex games.
How would she like it if I turned the tables right now and flipped her over my knee and spanked her?
If Grant weren’t so aroused and scared of being told to leave, he just might try it, even though he knew he would never intentionally hurt her. He wanted to worship her. I want her to hit me again. I’ve read about men being spanked and while I never thought I’d try it, I have to admit I’m curious. I need to step out of my safe zone and try this. If I don’t and leave now, I’ll always wonder what it would have been like.
He draped himself over her lap again, rubbing his knees against her carpeted floor while his hands curled in the carpet fibers on the other side of her legs, ready to tense at the next smack. Her latex suit felt rubbery and odd against his throbbing cock as it pushed against her thigh. He held himself rigid, knowing he should relax, but anticipation made him unable to do so.
A soft, feathery touch tickled over the skin of his buttocks. A touch that became firmer as Isabelle kneaded his muscles and skin. Almost unwillingly, he loosened up, her soothing caress proving to be irresistible. When the slap finally came, because he’d been expecting it this time, he didn’t rear up and actually managed to bite off the exclamation that came to his lips.
“Good boy,” she murmured.
A surge of pleasure rushed through him. “Thank you, mistress.”
She resumed the caresses, interspersed with smacks. Some soft, some hard. To his amazement, he soon forgot the pain and began looking forward to the slaps, the skin of his ass warming feverishly and his breathing coming faster.
Every so often she asked him short queries, such as, “Do you like that?”
And he replied fervently, “Yes, mistress.”
The spanking continued, and he now looked forward to each stroke, arching his back to offer his buttocks to her temptingly. And this time, when her hand slipped between his cheeks, he didn’t clench his legs together and thus enjoyed the scrape of her nails along the underside of his balls. That simple touch made him buck against her leg, and she laughed before she slapped him.
Forgoing the caresses on his ass, she now alternated between slapping his cheeks and stroking his balls and the skin inside his crevice. He tensed slightly when her finger probed at his manhole, then quickly moved away from the taboo spot back to his balls. But as her slaps quickened, he noticed that her fingers returned to his anus more often and that the probes became more insistent.
A sudden flurry of slaps alternating between his cheeks had him moaning helplessly. Then the next probe of his butthole became an outright plunge of her finger that hit a sensitive spot he’d never known existed. With a yell, he shot his load against her thigh and collapsed weakly across her lap.
Isabelle stroked him lightly, the bright red skin of his ass shining prettily at her. And while her hand might be sore from spanking him, it had been well worth it to see him lose control. Not to mention that she’d accomplished her first minor assault against an orifice he’d labeled as off limits. Already she had him crossing lines he’d never imagined. But now it was her turn to be pleasured.