Friday Fiction: Little Miss Matched

"Your socks don't match," he said when he walked into the bedroom.

She looked up from her iPhone at him, tapping something to pause her game before she responded: "No, they don't."

"Come here," he ordered.

She stood up, looking bemused. He simply glared at her socks as she made her way across the room.

"You bought them for me," she offered, "At that store at Disney, remember? Little Miss Matched?"

"Certainly not! Why would I buy socks that don't match?"

"But," she shook her head, stomping one stockinged foot on the ground, "You did buy them!"

"Young lady," he growled. Without further discussion, he grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the bed. He bent her over the side and flipped her skirt up over her back. He gave her bottom several hard smacks.

She stood still, more confused by this assault than concerned. Finally, she said, "You're spanking me because my socks don't match?"

"No," he said, continuing to smack her bottom, "I'm spanking you because I want to spank you. Your socks are a convenient excuse."

Flash Fiction: Happy Valentine's Day

"Happy Valentine's," he began as he walked into the bathroom. The sight of her naked in the tub stopped him cold.

Upon seeing him, she sat up so quickly that water splashed in every direction. He took two steps to the side of the tub. He further unsettled the splashing water, grabbing her by the ear and pulling her to her feet.

"You are supposed to be ready to go," he growled.

Her eyes flicked nervously to the clock, "Um, well. You've still got to change, right?"

He stared at her for a long moment without saying a word. His gaze traveled from her hair, pinned untidily to the top of her head for her bath, down her body, still dripping with water.

"Turn around. Put your hands on the wall," he ordered as he walked into his closet. He grabbed the cane that hung just inside the door, always ready for just this sort of occasion.

He struck without a word, the cane leaving a bright red welt across her bottom. He continued, the silence broken only by the quiet moans that escaped her lips and the whip of the cane through the air. When he finished, he set the cane aside and picked up the towel she had folded on the side of the tub. He wrapped the towel around her and helped her out of the tub into a hug.

"Are we gonna be late?" she asked quietly, looking up at him carefully.

He kissed her forehead and gave her bottom a squeeze, "I allowed extra time. I know you. Now get ready!"

Story

This story ventures into BDSM and sex. If that's not your thing, skip it. (I think I need a better intro to this type of story, if you have ideas, leave them in the comments or email me.)


His hands wrapped around my wrists, squeezing tight. I felt the tension slip away; my thoughts and worries drifted off, leaving only his hands on me. He watched, holding me motionless.

"Strip," he said, releasing me suddenly.

I slipped out of my jacket, dropping it on the floor. I crossed my wrists in front of me to grab the bottom of my shirt and tug it over my head. I reached behind my back, unfastening my bra and dropping it on the growing pile of clothing. I toed off my shoes, unbuttoned my jeans and shimmied out of them. My panties and socks followed.

"Always a mess," he growled, as he took my wrists again. He held them just a moment this time, before his hands moved to hold my face. One soft caress of my cheek and then he slapped my face, hard.

"On your knees," he ordered. I sunk to my knees as he unbuttoned his jeans and withdrew his cock. I leaned forward eagerly. His hands tangled through my hair, forcing me to take him even deeper into my mouth.

He used me, his hands controlling me. He fucked my mouth, taking his pleasure from my submission. One of his hands eventually slid down to my breast. I shifted to give him better access.

He pulled away without a word. The hand on my breast tightened around my nipple, urging me to my feet. I stood and he took both nipples in his hands - squeezing them, pinching them, twisting them, torturing them. I took a deep breath, thrusting my breasts out to him - offering myself to him.

"Little pain slut, aren't you?"

I nodded.

He released on of my nipples to slap my face, "Answer me when I'm talking to you!"

"Yes," I stammered, uncertain.

"Tell me."

"I'm your little pain slut."

"I bet you're wet already, aren't you?"

I whimpered. He smacked me again and I managed a quiet, "Yes."

Unsatisfied with this answer, his hand dove between my legs. His fingers thrust roughly into my cunt. My body responded to him, lubricating his seeking fingers. He pushed two fingers into me, then three, spreading me wide, then he forced four fingers into my wet cunt.

I writhed on his hand, my breasts thrust out to him, seeking contact with him. He finger fucked me hard, pushing me to orgasm.

"Did you have my permission?" he growled, leaning in close to me.

My naked body pressed against the rough texture of his clothing. I sunk into the contrast for a moment, loving the vulnerability: I stood naked while he was fully clothed; I was flushed with an orgasm he had forced upon me; I was scattered while he remained in control.

"What happens when you come without permission, little one?"

"You punish me," I whispered. A fresh rush of moisture between my legs - he would punish me in the most delicious ways.

"Mmmm," he said, pushing me to the bed. He grabbed his crop and shoved me onto my back. He ordered me to spread my legs with sharp strikes to my thighs. Then he settled in, giving my pussy a solid pounding with his crop.

I lost all sense of time. His crop stung my cunt and my thighs. His sharp orders rang through the air, pushing me to spread myself further, to present, to stay in position, always something. And always, the crop striking me. Tears were running down my cheeks before he stopped. When he paused and took a step back, I asked him to hand me a tissue.

"You think we're through?" he demanded.

I swallowed hard and sniffled, but didn't answer. He threw a tissue at me.

"We've only just begun, pet. Get up and bend over the end of the bed."

I wiped my eyes quickly and blew my nose. Then I was up, bending over the bed. I heard him moving around behind me, collecting things. Then I heard the swish of his belt through his belt loops. I flinched, then arched my back, presenting for him.

Instead of the snap of leather, I felt cool lubricated glass pressing against my asshole. I took a deep breath as he pushed the plug into me, moaning and writhing a bit as he pushed it in and out.

Once the plug was settled deep in my ass, he ordered me to spread my legs. His belt snapped between my legs, striking my already tender pussy. I whimpered and cried and begged him to stop. He ignored me, except for the occasional demand that I get back into position.

His fingers roughly explored my throbbing and swollen pussy. He pinched my pussy lips, pulling them apart and spreading me. Finally, he ran his hard cock between my lips, teasing me. I shifted my hips, pushing, trying to get his cock inside of me. Now I was begging him to fuck me.

His cock slid into me. I accepted it with a moan of satisfaction. My hips pressed back to meet his. He fucked me hard, pushing me close to orgasm but denying me.

"Not yet," he ordered, "Don't you fucking dare come yet."

He withdrew, quickly pulling the plug from my ass as well. Just as quickly, he replaced the plug with his cock. With his huge cock in my ass and his balls slapping against my swollen pussy as he thrust into me, I could hold back no longer. I came hard, my ass clenching around him.

He reached around me to squeeze my nipples, still fucking me hard. When I came a final time, he came with me.

The Fight

Just a short story...

It was an argument born of alcohol and exhaustion, the sort of fight that escalated unreasonably and would evaporate in an instant if they thought about it. But when they pulled into the parking lot, they were both wrapped up in the fight, the anger, the hurt. She sat perfectly still, lost in her head. He circled the car and opened the door.

She turned to look at him, but her eyes looked through him - unfocused, locked on a distant, unseen point. His words washed over her like so many unrelated syllables, refusing to order themselves into words with meaning. She might even have responded automatically, shaking her head or even answering in a flat, unnatural voice.

He fought back anger and frustration, recognizing the signs this time. She had shut down, in that odd way she had; seemingly responsive, she was on the verge of withdrawing into a ball of tears and sobs. He took several deep breaths. He leaned into the car, grabbing her wrist and squeezing tight. It took a moment longer than usual - a hesitation as she was drawn out of the scary place in her head and back into this moment - but her breath hissed out of her, deflating as she did in response to his touch.

"We are going inside," he growled, giving her wrist another squeeze to emphasize his command, "You can walk or..."

She was climbing out of the car before he could complete the threat. In the room, his words washed over her again, meaningless sounds. He laid his hand on her bare arm, her eyes snapped to his. "You don't even know what we were fighting about, do you?"

"Not..." the word stuttered out of her mouth, "Not really."

He made a frustrated sound and pushed her into the corner, "Then you can stand there until you want to talk, or I'm ready to talk."

- - -

He sat on the sofa; she was curled up in his lap. They spoke quietly, the anger gone from the fight, evaporated as quickly as spilled vodka.

KC Spanks Club

I haven't died, or even melted. This summer has been terribly busy, as summers tend to be. And I've found that the extreme heat triggers my migraines (lovely). But I'm making a renewed effort to blog. Feel free to pester me about posting more frequently.

[picture taken after the party by Hank]

I attended a great evening party hosted by KC Spanks Club a couple weeks ago (yes, I know it's taken me forever to write about it; I should be spanked...or something). Over forty people attended - such a wonderful, diverse group of people.  Even though I always enjoy the parties when I go, the evening parties are a struggle for me.

I've developed a routine for a weekend party that begins months in advance getting airline tickets, hotel reservations, and exchanging emails and FetLife messages to get all my plans in place. About a week before the party, I'll go into a tizzy about clothing, more particularly my lack thereof. I typically threaten at least once to go without, before I finally settle down. Then there is a last minute flurry of packing, racing to the airport, and making all my connections that leaves me little time to contemplate what I'm about to do before I'm swept into the party.

For a single evening party, I'm lacking the transition. I'm at work, then I need to jump right into party-mode. That's a difficult jump for me. In all honesty, I probably would not have gone to this party except that I got a lovely note on FetLife that encouraged me to put aside my nerves and go. And I am SO glad I went!

Mr. and Mrs. Powertool put on a very nice demo. I was particularly impressed by Mrs. Powertool's response to a (somewhat snarky) question from the audience - she succinctly explained that her husband is a bottom, not a submissive. And she gave a really good lecture on the differences between the two. I wish I could remember exactly what her response was, because it was one of the best I've heard.

I have to thank Alicia Panettiere and Hank for helping me get into the party mood. I've met Alicia several times, but never had the chance to play with her before. She's an excellent top! Hank, who I met for the first time at this party, was instrumental in instigating that first scene and I thank him for that! There's nothing like a spanking to help me relax into a party. We enjoyed banter and continued play throughout the party - with both of them spanking me, what's not to love?

I also had the opportunity to play with Rich Spankman, who organizes the KC Spanks Club parties. As the event planner, he's always so busy that I hesitate to ask him to play. But I'd made up my mind at this party that I would ask him...then he beat me to it! That is, he asked me first. He also "beat" me, in the context of giving me a very good spanking; but that's the idea, isn't it? I've seen his variety of spanking methods in demos before, but it was even more fun to experience them!

I had a great scene with Joe. Despite both of us traveling to Atlantic City for Boardwalk Badness and attending parties in KC, we've never gotten the chance to play before. I do love a man with heavy hands who knows how to use them!

I also got the chance to play with Joe's wife, Michelle. Hank warned me about her "Sunday" hairbrush - so named because she can't use it on anyone at a weekend party until Sunday, because it tends to finish the bottom for the weekend - but I simply had to try it. And, of course, I loved it! (ColoDom is right, if you looked up "pain slut" in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of me.)

[close-up taken of the lines from the "Sunday" brush, taken by Hank...thanks again!]

Thanks again to everyone I played with and talked to at the party! I had a wonderful time and I'm looking forward to the next event.

Impatience (Xavier and Maddie)

This story is part of a new series - Xavier and Maddie are lovers who engage in all sorts of spanking play. This story is dedicated to my lover, who provides endless inspiration and support. The normal disclaimers apply.

“Can we go yet?”

Xavier looked up from his MacBook to find Maddie all but jumping with impatience. Standing beside his desk, she was wearing a scoop-necked t-shirt with the words It’s a good thing I’m into you, because otherwise it would be awkward printed across her chest, tight jeans, and her scuffed Sketchers. He rolled his eyes, “You’re acting like an impatient four-year old.”

“I am not!” She crossed her arms and pouted ineffectually at him.

Xavier raised an eyebrow, glaring at her as she proved his point. She sighed theatrically, attempting to distract him with her heaving chest, but this worked no better than her previous ploys.

“You can stand in the corner until you’re ready to act like an adult.”

Obadiah's Journey (chapter 3)

The appearance of two figures on one of the temporary screens startled Obadiah, but he wasted no time clicking his computer program into action.  Despite his failure to identify the mystery pair, Obadiah felt some satisfaction that his final computer project worked seamlessly.  The other guard on duty failed to notice the single flicker as the screen changed from a current display to one Obadiah had recorded previously, the current activity transferred to a video file on his laptop.

Thanks to Obadiah’s search for the “notorious Senator”, he had heard the gossip about the construction area the pair had selected for this nighttime adventure.  The year’s elections had caused major upheaval, requiring that office spaces be totally reassigned.  The Senate minority had been assigned this area in the basement, which was still under construction.

Earlier attempts to paint the sandstone foundation had gone poorly; the living stone rejected the paint in many of the earlier reconstructions.  Instead, the Senate Minority Leader had decided to embrace the dungeon like appearance of the basement quarters the party had been given.  The room this pair had selected even had eye-bolts screwed into the sandstone in various locations.  The cameras had only been installed temporarily in the offices due to various allegations of fraud in the construction. Obadiah had a wealth of gossipy information, but he was no closer to identifying the Senator.

Obadiah's Journey (chapter 2)

“You know, Obadiah, you’re really too much of a gadget freak to work security.”

“And you’re a Luddite, Bill.  What’s your point?”  Obadiah did not bother to look up from his laptop to answer the older security guard on duty with him tonight.  A complicated array of cords, boxes, and connectors ran across the table between the monitors and Obadiah’s laptop.

“I just don’t see the point of all this.  You can simply watch the screens.”  Bill grumbled.

“You can watch the screens, Bill.  I’m working on my final project for my computer science class,” Obadiah explained patiently, silently thinking that his project was far more interesting than one for any class.

Bill grunted, “I’ll leave you to it, then.  Want anything from the snack machine?”

“No,” Obadiah paused before adding, “Thanks, though.”  With everything connected, he settled back in his seat to watch the monitors.  “Excellent timing,” he muttered to the empty room, “But the guts of this pair!”

He wasted only a moment shaking his head at the figures that appeared on the screen showing the interior of the capital dome.  A few clicks and several keystrokes later, the monitor showed footage of the capital dome Obadiah had captured earlier in the week.  The current scene was transferred instead to a video file on his laptop.

Obadiah's Journey (chapter 1)

This story began as a very "innocent" scene between two nameless individuals.  But when Jada gave me multiple suggestions for character names...well, you'll see how Obadiah hijacked my innocent storyline.  And I hope you'll follow along to see where he takes us.

The door clicked shut behind Violet, blocking out the light from the stairwell and leaving her in darkness.  She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust.  She walked forward carefully, one hand gently tracing the bookshelf beside her.

At the end of the row, she turned and paused again.  Here, a dim light filtered through sheer curtains that covered a rare floor-to-ceiling window.  The pale light revealed rank upon rank of library shelving that she knew to be basic metal shelves capped with wood to add elegance.  She reached for one, tracing the metal fixture with its paper inset describing the books stored in the row.

This side of the library was rarely visited.  A researcher could find any of the millions of published cases far easier on Westlaw or Lexis.  These books, each differently colored series representing a section of the country, were a memorial to a time long past.  In daylight, she would think these books better stored, if at all, in the stacks, for all the floor-space they took up in the high ceilinged, formal library.  But at night, they had a certain magic, each row filled with a uniform series in a slightly different color.

She walked forward, her pace still measured and slow.  She passed another window, pausing only a moment to consider this new array of books before continuing on.

A flash of the gold-foil on the Atlantic Reporter caught her eye, revealed by the light from the window just ahead.  Her step stuttered.  He had promised to meet her here, where an internal column interrupted the shelving.  For some inexplicable reason, the space had been filled with a round table and chairs on one side of the column and a stuffed chair on the other.  No one used this little study spot, hidden away in never accessed books, even during the day.

HD - Tour (part 4)

If you haven’t read the other HoloDeck stories…you can start here.  The HoloDeck series explores spanking, sex and BDSM in a fantasy world where nothing goes wrong, and if it does, they have sci-fi level medical care available.  I find that sort of thing fun and titillating.  Your mileage may vary.  This is the final part of a four-part Macy/Colin story…you can find the first part here, the second part here, and the third part here.


“Oh no,” Colin said firmly, glaring at her.  “I’ll hear a good bit more begging from you first.  And your screams.  Your sobs.  None of this false bullshit.”

He shoved her backwards onto the table, her back flat on the fur rug, her bottom hanging off the edge.  He pulled the picnic benches forward a bit and put a booted foot on either bench, spreading her very wide.  A bit of rope secured her feet.  He pulled her hands together, wrapped them with rope and stretched them far above her head before securing them.

He took his cane to these new targets – her thighs, her pussy, her breasts.  He circled her, his blows precise and hard.  She strained and writhed wordlessly on the table, occasional low moans punctuating his mutters of “Nice!”

He dropped the cane and scooped up more fresh snow.  The first handful was pressed against her pussy.  The next two held against her gorgeous breasts.  She tossed her head back and forth, begging him with a nonsensical string of moans.

He swept the snow away and fell on her with his mouth.  His hands squeezed her painfully.  The suction of her mouth caused her to cry out.  Her back arched, pressing her breasts harder into his mouth.

He forgot his desire to punish her, giving over to his desire to ravish her instead.  He dropped his pants and thrust into her, but the remnants of cold snow served to remind him of his original purpose.  Gritting his teeth, he pumped into her until she grew frantic for him.  Then, growling, he withdrew.

A horrible rubber crop found its way into his hand.  He struck her breasts, her pussy.  It took only a few strokes to set her begging.  He struck again, watching her tears fill her eyes.  He hit her pussy twice more.

“How does my little slut want it?” He rubbed his cock teasingly against her clit, sliding down but not entering her.

“Please, Colin, just fuck me!”  She raised her hips, opened her legs even further, begging with her body.

He gave into her pleas, taking everything she offered.

HD - Tour (part 3)

If you haven’t read the other HoloDeck stories…you can start here.  The HoloDeck series explores spanking, sex and BDSM in a fantasy world where nothing goes wrong, and if it does, they have sci-fi level medical care available.  I find that sort of thing fun and titillating.  Your mileage may vary.  This is the third part of a four-part Macy/Colin story…you can find the first part here, and the second part here.


Cold air hit Macy’s bare skin like a thousand pinpricks of ice.  Actual ice, in the form of snow, covered the ground and the bare branches of the surrounding trees.  They stood in a clearing, a rustic wooden picnic table and benches explained the purpose of the spot.  The air was thin, cool, but as Macy adjusted, no longer bitingly cold.

Colin turned to Macy, watching the tiny shiver race through her.  Her nipples crinkled in the cold, tightening to hard nubs.  He flicked one, drawing her attention from the scenery to him.

“It’s cold!” she complained.

“Still whining, are you?” Colin leaned towards her and kissed her nose, then each erect nipple.  Macy moaned, arching her back in an attempt to press her breasts against him.  He pulled back, teasing, “I’ll fix that soon enough, love.”

He strolled over to the picnic table.  The bench on the far side held a number of items out of Macy’s sight.  He picked up an enormous fur rug and flipped it out over the rough table.

“Come, pet.  Lean over the end for me.”

Macy shuffled over somewhat reluctantly.  The pain of the switching had faded quickly enough, but the memory had not.  She slid her hand through the fur, slowly lowering herself onto the table.  Colin roughly smacked her thighs until she opened her legs.  “You know better than that, little one.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to punish you.”

Macy cast a skeptical glance over her shoulder at him but kept her peace.  Not that it would matter either way, but occasionally Macy made the wiser choice.  Colin ran his fingernails up her back, pressing hard enough to leave white lines in her flesh.  His hands roamed, scratching and pinching.  He cupped her buttocks in his hands, fingers digging into the muscle as he squeezed hard.

He smacked her bottom with his cupped hand, the loud sound echoing among the trees.  He paused, pressing himself between her legs, running his arms up her back, laying himself over her.  With a groan, he pulled himself away and took up a heavy flogger.  He brushed her hair aside and settled into a steady rhythm.  Macy grunted a little at the heavier blows, but otherwise seem to melt into the flogging.

“Warm enough, pet?” he asked softly.

“Mmmm hmmm,” she mumbled wordless agreement.

He switched to a carbon fiber cane, her back well prepared for these sharper blows.  He moved to her bottom, the fullness of her cheeks receiving his attention for the first time.  She clenched her hands into the fur blanket, moaning a bit.

“Oh dear,” he said mockingly, “Is someone getting turned on by this?”  He slid a finger easily into her wet pussy.  He fucked her hard for a moment, then withdrew and slid his wet finger into her ass.  She squirmed harder, undeniably aroused by his actions.  He knelt a bit to set aside the cane, his finger fucking her ass.  His other hand scooped up a handful of pure white snow.  Without warning, he cupped the snow around her pussy.

Macy screamed, pushing herself halfway up.  Her back was arched, her elbows still on the table but drawn back to support her head and shoulders off the table.  Colin withdrew his finger and dropped the snow.  He took her roughly by the hair, holding her in this half raised position.

“Someone give you permission to get up, little one?”

“No,” Macy whimpered.

Colin pulled her roughly to her feet, glaring at her.  He held her firmly, watching her tremble.  She whimpered when he reached to touch her face, not quite shying away from what she thought would be a slap.

“If you can’t follow the rules, Macy, you don’t leave me any choice.”  Colin pushed her back against the table, “You simply like it too much when I spank you, don’t you?  Answer me!”

“Yes, Colin,” she stammered the words out, “I like it when you spank me.”

The fingers of his other hand, still bitterly cold from the snow, pinched a nipple, twisting it painfully, “And what about that?  Do you like that too?”

“No,” Macy panted, but a rush of wetness between her legs betrayed her.  Colin pushed his erection hard against her.

“Don’t lie to me.  You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you?  You like that too, don’t you?”

“Please…”

Colin simply pulled harder, “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Macy managed.

HD - Tour (part 2)

If you haven’t read the other HoloDeck stories…you can start here.  The HoloDeck series explores spanking, sex and BDSM in a fantasy world where nothing goes wrong, and if it does, they have sci-fi level medical care available.  I find that sort of thing fun and titillating.  Your mileage may vary.  This is the second part of a four-part Macy/Colin story...you can find the first part here.


Macy was pressed hard onto the forest floor, various hard objects poking her back.  Colin lifted himself off her, pulling her up by her wrists.  She wore only the ridiculously short terry-cloth shorts.  Colin pulled her over to a fallen log.

“Hands right there on the log, brat.  Bend over, keep your legs straight.”  Colin watched, then corrected himself, “Spread your legs for me, love.”

Macy moaned as she followed his directions, feeling the shorts slip up to reveal the crease of her bottom and even part of her butt cheeks.

“Don’t even think about moving,” Colin ordered as he stomped away to select a few switches.  He cut the green branches from three different trees.  His pocket knife was unusually sharp, trimming the switches was easy.  He returned to find Macy in the position he had left her.

“Good girl,” Colin tapped the first of the switches along the crease of her bottom, “Keep your position, little one.  You put a hand or foot back here and I will smack it, you understand?”

“Yeah,” Macy said reluctantly, bracing herself.  But nothing could have prepared her for the burning assault of the switch, biting into her sand scoured skin.  Her cries startled small game, birds fluttering away from the scene.

When the first switch broke, Colin swapped it for the second without missing a beat.  Macy’s screams went up a notch as he laid into her thighs.  A hand whipped back to protect her thighs.  Colin caught her wrist, wordlessly striking her palm three times before releasing her hand.

Sobs shook Macy’s body.  Colin stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her to his hip.  He dropped the switch and delivered several ringing blows to her bottom with his palm.  The abrupt change of sensation made Macy writhe within his firm grasp.

He stepped back and retrieved his final switch.  He laid into her again, this time occasionally striking her calves.  She was fighting with herself not to move, to accept the burning punishment.  He watched her carefully, stopping before she lost the fight.

Colin pulled her up, wrapped her in a tight hug.  Macy shook a little against him, her chest heaving as she worked to catch her breath.  He pulled her back a bit, watching her.  He wiped a slow finger through the tear streaks on her cheeks.

“That really fucking hurt, Colin.”  He silenced her by setting his wet finger against her lips.  He removed the finger and kissed her trembling lips.  Then he pulled away, keeping hold of one hand.

“I didn’t bring you to Yellowstone just to switch you, Macy.  Come, we’ll walk a bit.  I want you to see Old Faithful.  And perhaps we’ll find a nice hot spring to rid of us some of this sand.”

Macy muttered something about the unfairness of it all as they walked, but Colin ignored these accusations.  They had plenty of time for a little sightseeing before his next adventure.

*          *          *

Colin pulled himself out of the hot spring, taking one of the towels provided by the HoloDeck.  He helped Macy out and wrapped another towel around her.  She held the towel close as she watched him dress.  He put on casual wool slacks and a striped flannel shirt.

“And for me?” Macy asked curiously.  Colin held out a pair of boots, lined with fleece.  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Macy continued, “What goes with these?”

“Put them on, Macy” Colin said patiently, refusing to answer her questions.

She stomped into the boots and laced them up.  A fashion statement they were not, which only meant they were functional.  Colin took her by the hand and the forest dissolved.

HD - Tour (part 1)

If you haven’t read the other HoloDeck stories…you can start here.  The HoloDeck series explores spanking, sex and BDSM in a fantasy world where nothing goes wrong, and if it does, they have sci-fi level medical care available.  I find that sort of thing fun and titillating.  Your mileage may vary.  This is the first part of a four-part Macy/Colin story.

Macy blinked rapidly to clear her eyes.  The transition into a HoloDeck scene was sometimes jarring.  The heat of Colin’s hand wrapped around hers was the first surprise.  The feel of fabric on her skin was the second.  She wore a tiny pair of shorts and a bikini top.  Her bare feet were sunk in loose, white sand.

Colin stood watching her, holding her hand innocently enough.  He wore board shorts and a Rash Guard shirt, the lines of the shirt accenting his strength.  Macy took in the scenery, rolling dunes of white sand as far as the eye could see.

“White Sands, New Mexico,” Colin answered before she even voiced the question, “It’s early spring, love, so we shouldn’t get to warm.”

Macy beamed at him, digging her toes in the warm sand.  The air was rather cool on her skin, considering the warmth radiating from the sand and the warm sun overhead.  They walked for a piece, Macy watching as her manicured toenails sparkled in and out of the white sand.

Suddenly, Macy stopped, turning herself in front of Colin and bringing him to an abrupt halt.  She grabbed his other hand, laughing, “Race me?”  She nodded to the top of the next dune.

Colin shook his head, but smiled indulgently, “What does the winner get?”

“What do you want?” Macy stepped close, pressing her body against him.

“At the moment,” Colin allowed himself to respond to her touch, “You.  Naked.  Beneath me.  But I’ll settle for the top off.”

Macy kissed him and darted away.  Even with the head start, Colin easily caught up.  He reached the summit of the next dune just a moment before her, not having pushed himself to outdistance her.  Macy pouted at him, her merrily sparkling eyes ruining the effect.

“Top off, little one.”

“Colin…” Macy whined.

Colin took a step toward her and tipped her over his outstretched leg.  He delivered a flurry of hard swats to her bottom.  She giggled at this assault, playfully kicking her feet.  Colin shifted his attention to her thighs, his hand reddening the bare flesh.  Macy stopped laughing.

“I’ll take it off, Colin.  Jeeze!”

“You’re still whining at me, little one.”  He continued smacking her bare thighs, hard.  “Take it off.”

Macy struggled to untie the top, hampered by the ungainly position he held her in.  She finally managed to pull the top off without unhooking it.  “It’s off.  Ow!  Stop!”

Colin set her back on her feet, smiling benignly at her, “One of these days you’re going to figure out that it is easier just to obey me.”

Macy shrugged playfully, causing her freed breasts to bounce at him, “Where’s the fun in that?”  She flung herself at him, catching him off guard so that they tumbled down the side of the sand dune.

Their fall became a wrestling match.  Sand flew around them as they rolled, grappling at one another.  The warm sand was rough on their skin.  By the time Colin pinned Macy, both were panting for breath.  Colin held Macy’s hands above her head, straddling her and holding her legs down with his own.

“You are such a brat!” he said.  Her only response was laughter, her giggle breathless from their exertion.

“You need a good switching, but there are no switches here.”  He looked up expectantly and the sand dissolved around them.

A quiet evening

The television was on, simply background noise as he worked on his computer.  Her hand, cool against his knee, caught his attention.  She sank to the floor at his feet, legs folded neatly beneath her.  Her fingernails ran down his bare leg, traced back up to his knee.  She rested the flat of her hand against the inside of his knee, her cheek pressed against the other side of his leg.

"What's the matter, beautiful?"

"Nothing," she closed her eyes, shutting out the lie.

"Don't lie to me, little one."  He closed his computer, his hand cupping her face.

"Don't stop working," she said quietly, her eyes still closed, "I'm just going to cuddle up with you."

"Then why aren't you up on the sofa with me?  Cuddled up in my lap?"

She shrugged, saying nothing.  His fingers worked through her hair, massaging her scalp.  She sighed, wrapping herself more tightly around his leg.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, "About yesterday."

"I already told you, you've nothing to apologize for."

"Yeah," her quiet whisper could not have said more clearly that she disagreed.

"Get up here, you."  He set his computer aside.  When she didn't move, he carefully brushed her hair back from her ear then took a firm grip and pulled.  She followed her ear, standing up and falling promptly over his lap.

"Meanie," she muttered as she rubbed her ear.  But she barely had time to pout at him, as he pushed up her satin nightgown and began spanking her.  He spanked hard, varying the swats from thuddy to stingy and back again.  He covered both sides of her bottom and worked his way right down her thighs.  She squirmed a little and whimpered a little, but largely accepted his punishment without complaint.

"Get up," he growled at her, helping her to her feet and then standing himself.  "Put your hands on the couch," he pushed her into position.  "And get those legs apart," he demanded, his hand slapping her inner thighs until she had spread her legs to his satisfaction.  "Stay right there."

Her legs shook just a bit as he walked away, the only outward sign of her nerves.  He could be after anything to use with her in this position.  The possibilities were seemingly endless.  She heard him return to the room, but forced herself not to look.

"That's my good girl," he murmured, his hands roaming her backside.  She arched her back in response, offering her bottom for his caress.  He did just that for a long moment, rubbing her bottom, teasing it with his nails.

The sharp crack of the strap against her bottom broke her relaxation.  She took several quick breaths, but he did not let up.  He knew what she needed, enough pain to forgive herself.  Enough pain to let go.

She was near tears when he stopped.  He wrapped her in a hug and pulled her onto his lap as he sat down.  She curled into his chest, just as he had wanted her to do earlier.  Sometimes, it took effort to keep her happy, but it was well worth it.

HD - A short story

If you haven't read the other HoloDeck stories...you should!  That said, the HoloDeck series explores sex and BDSM in a fantasy world where nothing goes wrong, and if it does, they have sci-fi level medical care available.  I find that sort of thing fun and titillating.  Your mileage may vary.  This is a single scene Macy/Colin story. It is unabashedly sexual.  If that sort of thing bothers you, skip this one.

Macy was naked but for the silk and leather color around her neck.  Colin had grown so fond of these slave scenes, Macy thought irritably, that he would do well to buy her a collar to wear outside the HoloDeck.  Macy forced her attention to her surroundings.

She stood in a lushly appointed bed chamber.  Rich tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes of fantastic sexual adventures.  Plush carpeting covered the floor.  An enormous four-poster bed dominated the room, surrounded by heavy velvet drapes and made up with silk sheets.  Two chairs flanked a small table set under an enormous window.

Macy fingered the collar.  A pleasure slave, then, but a pampered slave.  Macy sat on one of the chairs, sinking into the rich upholstery.  An open journal sat on the table.  Macy checked the date out of habit and flipped through the journal.  Her handwriting filled the pages with graphic details of her lord’s visits.

She squirmed in her chair, her pussy uncomfortably wet.  But it was impossible to set the journal aside.  She slid her fingers down to play with her clit as she read.

“This is what my little one gets up to while I’m away?”  Colin appeared silently beside her.  He wore only a robe, his hair wet from bathing.

“I’m sorry, my lord.”  Macy leapt to her feet.

“No apologies, little one.”  He kissed her, hard.  One arm pulled her tight to him, his other hand slipping between them.  His fingers thrust hard into her wet pussy, fucking her.

She whimpered when he pulled away, but he pushed her hard against the wall, a hand behind her head.  He brushed his robe aside and thrust roughly into her.

“Is that what you wanted, little one?” he growled out as he pumped in and out of her.

“Yes, my lord.  Please.  Take me.”  Her hips thrust against him, her back arched, her body pressed against his.  She came hard and fast, her muscles clenching painfully around him.

“Now that was very naughty, little one!” Colin pulled himself away slightly, glaring at her, “The other, well, I’ll not begrudge you for how you entertain yourself when I’m away.”  A hand stroked her cheek, “But this?”

“I’m sorry, my lord.”  Macy took great gulping breaths, startled by the strength of her orgasm.  She nestled her forehead into the hollow of his shoulder, “Are you going to punish me?”

“Yes, little one.  Lean over the bed for me.  Legs spread, that’s right.  Stretch your hands out to the other side of the bed.  Good girl, arch your back and present your naughty bottom for me.  Nice.”

A heavy leather strap thudded across her bottom.  Macy arched into it, giving her bottom up to him for correction.  The thudding pain was somehow remote after her orgasm, sending pleasant vibrations into her pussy.  Macy held her position easily, only straining to present herself more fully, to open her body to his correction.

“I don’t think this is getting through to you,” Colin tossed the heavy strap to the floor and took up a cane instead.  The sharp pain shattered through Macy, bringing a cry to her lips.  Her body strained, but she held her position.  Colin struck rapidly and hard, hardly giving her a chance to recover between strokes.  White lines appeared on her skin, then red welts.

He laid the welts on evenly, close spaced parallel lines from the fullest part of her bottom to mid-thigh.  Her whimpers teased Colin’s ears and he smiled his satisfaction.  He took a deep breath, rubbing the welts for a moment, letting her think he might be nearly finished.

But he drew back the cane and carelessly struck across the welts.  He laid on crisscrossing stripes, seemingly willy-nilly but actually quite balanced.  Her screamed echoed in the room.

He tossed the cane aside and thrust roughly into her, “Have you learned your lesson, little one?”

“Yes!  Please, my lord.  Please…”

“Quiet,” he ordered, fucking her hard.  His hips pounded into her tender bottom.  She kept her legs spread for him, her body his for the taking.  He reached beneath her, taking her breasts in his hands as he rocked into her.  She moaned and worked her hips against him, pushing hard, taking him deeper inside her.

He felt the muscles across her stomach clench, her breathing change.  He withdrew abruptly, “Did I give you permission, little one?”

“No.  My lord, no, please.  I want…”

“I know what you want, little bit.  Be a good girl now.”  He set his erection against her bottom hole, wet from her juices.  He pulled her bottom open, his hands squeezing the welts, digging into the pained flesh.  She moaned, wordlessly reaching back to hold herself open for him, offering herself.

He moved his hands to her hipbones, slowly pushing into her.  He gave a little sigh when he settled deep into her.  Then he began a slow thrusting, in and out, fucking her bottom.  His fingers reached around to her slit, teasing her.  His hips pressed against the welts.

“Now, you may come,” he panted, his fingers teasing her clit.  She ground against his hand, creating the sensation she needed.  When she clenched up, gasping, he let her go.  Her bottom spasmed around him, brining him to orgasm as well.

“Such a good girl!” Colin rolled off her regretfully.  “Looks like I need another bath, will you join me?”

Giggling, Macy pushed herself off the bed and strolled into the bathroom, her hips rolling seductively at him.

Holodeck (part 4)

Colin held Macy close while the HoloDeck rearranged the stage.  The brackets released Macy’s ankles and a strange contraption appeared.  Created from Colin’s imagination, the punishment block had been built to Macy’s measurements.  Colin had modeled the block in a light sculpture, the HoloDeck created an item engineered to withstand any imaginable stresses.

The punishment block was like a spanking bench on steroids.  Padded cups molded themselves to Macy’s knees, supporting her as she knelt on them.  A paddled bolster cradled her hips, but swept up and away from her pussy, leaving her exposed.  The curved bolster supported her tummy, then narrowed to a padded bar that rested between her breasts, leaving them exposed as well.

Padded straps wrapped around the back of Macy’s knees.  A protective strap enclosed her waist, protecting her kidneys.  Her legs were spread wide, her wrists linked loosely beneath her tummy.  A modified all-fours position, but floating at a convenient height.

Colin checked the fit, the positioning, Macy’s comfort.  The device fitted her perfectly, supporting her comfortably.  Not that she would remain comfortable, of course, but Colin wanted her focus to be on the pain he and the others would inflict, not some mundane muscle cramp.

“Beautiful,” he muttered as he stepped back, running his fingers over her skin.  He ran his nails along her, digging in, leaving white lines in his wake.  She shuddered and arched for him, aching for his touch.

“Such a fucking sensation whore, Macy!  You’re in position for one hell of a punishment and still you strain for me!”

Macy turned her head slightly to look at him, “I’m yours,” she said simply, her voice shy but ringing with honesty.

“Mine to share?” he kissed her neck, not at all gently.

“Yours,” she repeated, “To do with as you please.”

He groaned, took a fistful of her hair and turned her head to kiss her full on the mouth.  “You make me crazy,” he said shortly, pulling away.  “Some jewelry first.  Decoration, if you will.”

The items appeared as he needed them, planned out in advance.  Heavy nipple clamps, adorned with jewels, were placed on either nipple.  He tightened them down until she gasped.  He set a thick leather rod between her teeth, a chain dangling from either end.  The chains were unnaturally heavy for such sparkling, intricate things.  He attached the chains to the clamps.

“Hold that,” he growled at her when she whimpered, “This isn’t meant to be fun, Macy.”

He circled behind her, taking an enormous glass plug finished with a clear crystal.  A bit of lube and he began working it into her.  The steady pressure combined with the tight clamps caused her to pant, struggling to control her breathing.  Colin worked slowly, liberally applying lube as he worked.  He pushed into her and withdrew, teasing her, mind-fucking her until she gave over to his will and accepted the plug.

He plunged a finger into her wetness, running it around inside her.  “So wet!  Such a naughty girl!”  He withdrew, plunging a thick glass dildo into her.  Too large to be enjoyed, the dildo stretched her uncomfortably.

“Almost done, pet,” he muttered as he slid beneath her.  He spread her lips and sucked her clit clean.  Then he attached one last clamp, the heavy charm pulling her clit painfully.

He circled her, watching her tremble.  He sank down in front of her face, their eyes level.  She stared through him, fighting an internal battle to accept what he had done.  He watched in silence for a moment.

“Too much,” he said, flicking his fingers towards her.  The clamps loosened ever so slightly, the plug and dildo shrunk minutely.  He flicked his fingers again until her eyes tracked him.  “The decorations aren’t your only punishment, little one.  I’m going to let some of our paying guests beat you.  But you are not to come, you dirty slut.”

He smacked her face, rocking it to one side, pulling the chain roughly.  Before she recovered, he smacked her in the other direction, jerking that nipple painfully.

“You come again, Macy and I’ll crop your pussy until you are in tears,” he fingered her chin with one hand, his other sneaking through to slip between her pussy lips, “Only then will I cane your pussy, got me?”  He smiled at the rush of wetness brought on by his threats.

“God, I love you!” he flicked his fingers again, ever so slightly reducing the pressure on her.  The decorations were meant to torment her during the punishment, not be the punishment.

Colin stood up, his crotch in Macy’s face, to beckon the first customer over.  Macy nuzzled against him, her breath harsh as her movement caused the chains to tug and pull.  Colin took a fistful of her hair, pulling her face up to look at him.  She whimpered and sobbed at the lightening bolts of pain that shot through her nipples.

“Be good!” he said harshly, drinking in her reaction.  Abruptly, he released her head.  Her body trembling, she returned to her delicate nuzzling. Colin did his best to ignore her, instead watching the first man aim his heavy strap across Macy’s bottom.

The blows rocked Macy into his dick.  He tangled a hand in her hair again, but this time used it to keep himself moving with Macy.  He watched her body language, her breathing and enjoyed her teasing efforts.  He petted Macy as she struggled through a round of heavier blows, finally waving the man off.

“Insatiable little girl,” he murmured as he knelt down to check on her.  Her eyes tracked him, her breathing easy, and her lips curled up in a tiny smile around the leather bit between her teeth.  He unbuttoned his fly as he stood, waving over another customer.

Macy caught Colin’s zipper with her lips, no easy task with the leather rod in her mouth.  All but ignoring the person beating on her, she worked the zipper down and pushed the fabric aside.  The first customer was replaced by another and another, each wearing themselves out using straps and floggers on her vulnerable backside.

Colin knelt again, checking her.  Her lips worked frantically, so he withdrew the leather.

“Please, Colin…”

“Please what, little one?”

“I want to feel you.  Please?”

Colin nodded as he stood, pulling his pants further to the sides, pushing his silk boxers beneath his balls, freeing his erection for her.  “Insatiable,” he muttered as she pushed herself against him.

Her lips teased at his cock, her breath warm against his bare flesh.  She ignored the pain in her nipples in her push to pleasure him.  But the teasing was pushing Colin’s limits; he needed something more or something less.  He pulled her up sharply by the hair, jerking her breasts.  He nodded to the next customer.

This one took and odd position, handing his cane to Colin and grasping Macy’s hair.  The customer held Macy firmly. Colin dropped to a knee to get the right angle.  He brought the cane up sharply against Macy’s taunt breast.

Macy thrashed against the hold in her hair, but the man held fast.  She bucked and arched her back, but her motion was limited.  Colin coolly caned her breasts until silent tears streaked down Macy’s face.  Colin nodded to the man, who gently lowered Macy’s head, easting the intense pressure.

Colin stepped around behind her and began on her thighs.  The cane raised welts, angry red welts on her already tortured skin. He smacked one thigh at a time, alternating sides, cruelly allowing the cane to wrap and bite into her inner thighs.

Macy finally dropped the leather bar, the dropping weight pulling a deep moan from her, “Please!” she cried out.

“Has my little pain slut had enough?” Colin teased, tracing the cane tip over her bottom and legs.

“Please Colin?”

He circled around to her front, tapping wickedly on the leather bit.  He pulled her up by the hair, considering.  Finally he pointed to the crowd.

“You,” he said, pointing, “get her some water.  You, you, you, and…yes, you.  I’ll take your help for the final bit.  Over here for a moment, please.”

Gentle hands held Macy’s cheeks, encouraged her to drink cool, refreshing water.  The hands brushed back her hair and Macy saw Lady Galla’s slave girl, quietly tending to her.  The girl lightly kissed Macy’s cheek before slipping away.

Colin took his place, his pants removed.  He stood confidently in front of Macy, his proud erection just out of her reach.  A million tiny pinpricks ticked her back – vampire gloves – two hands, four hands, six.  The hands explored her body as Colin pushed himself forward.

“Remember what I told you.  I come first, Macy, or I promise you, you won’t like what happens.”

Macy nodded her agreement.  Vampire gloves teased her breasts, her bottom, her sides, her legs, even her wet pussy.  Unseen hands removed the clamps, pulling them roughly away.  One hand took up the dildo, working it in and out rhythmically.  Another unseen hand grasped the butt plug, fucking her relentlessly.  Four hands, sometimes six, continued to torment her with vampire gloves.

Macy struggled to ignore the sensations, to put the rhythm of the fucking into her own rhythm of pleasing Colin.  Colin groaned and pulled away, “Not yet, little one.”

The crowd shift.  Colin removed the dildo and slid himself into her.  His hips thrust against her throbbing backside, each time pushing hard against the plug.  One displaced helper slid beneath Macy and took her nipples into an unseen mouth.  That mouth suckled and teased Macy’s breasts while the vampire gloves continued and Colin thrust powerfully into her.

Macy felt the last powerful thrust and the pulsing that signaled Colin’s climax.  Fingers, his or someone else’s, found her clit and rubbed her to climax, his cock still deep within her.

The crowd melted away, leaving the two of them.  Colin waved a weary hand and transferred them to a deep, warm bath, their bodies still entwined.

“You are so fucking amazing, Macy,” Colin managed, cuddling her in the warm water.

“You are pretty fucking amazing yourself, Colin.  The way your mind works…”

Colin silenced her with a kiss.  Their hands played under the water, enjoying this simple pleasure of one another nearly as much as the elaborate scene.

HoloDeck (part 3)

To my love - the man who coaxes these stories out of me at the unlikeliest of times (if my boss had any idea how I spend my workday!)...and gives me the courage to share them with others, as well as the courage to wear shorts, but that's another story entirely. Thank you, love.

Macy was naked again, standing barefoot in a warm room.  She blinked the décor into focus, soft peach tones covered the walls, a slightly deeper color for a plush carpet underfoot.  A vague watercolor hung on the wall, depicting a sexual scene at odds with the spa-like décor.

The door opened to admit a large, matronly figure.  The woman gave Macy a frank head to toe appraisal.  Macy stared back at the woman, trying to match her attire to a wank story.  If it matched, Macy couldn’t remember it.  The woman wore comfortable shoes, loose linen pants and a t-shirt, fitting no particular stereotype.

“He said you weren’t modest,” the woman chuckled, “But I wasn’t expecting that sort of response.”  The woman considered Macy for a moment longer, “Gorgeous natural material, dear.  This should be simple and painless, if you’ll just come along.”

Macy followed the woman into a hallway.  This was very unlike Colin.  Ordinarily, he let the HoloDeck take care of the preparation.  A change, though, could be good.  Perhaps he wished to watch, the voyeuristic thrill of watching her primp for him.  Or, Macy thought abruptly, he wants to ease me into this because it is going to be a difficult scene.

Macy pushed the thought aside.  She would simply enjoy the pampering, come what may.  She rolled her hips as she walked, just in case Colin was watching.

A team of women wearing little more than bikini’s descended upon Macy.  They took her through a bath, rubbing lightly at her skin with foaming soaps.  Several of them dried her with warm towels while others attacked her long hair.  Lotions and oils were applied, her nails cleaned and polished, her hair tamed.

The matron reappeared to inspect Macy.  She carried a set of silk-lined leather cuffs, anklets, and collar.  These were rapidly set into place by the girls.  The matron checked the fit of each, placing them perfectly.  These fit as thought designed for Macy alone.  Elegant craftsmanship made wearing them easy.

“Her Master will apply the rest of her jewelry, girls.  You may go.”  The matron continued to inspect Macy while the girls scattered.  “He has billed you as the quiet, passionate sort, child.  I might even pay to watch tonight.”

With theose cryptic words racing through Macy’s thoughts, she stepped through the doorway the matron indicated.  Colin stood on the other side wearing dark, tight fitted pants that somehow allowed his erection to show.  He had been watching, then.  He wore stylish dress shoes and a dress-shirt styled in the BDSM fashion.  He looked fantastic.

“Tonight you earn your keep, love.  From here on out, the people you see?  They are real.  They are here because I’ve allowed them onto the HoloDeck with us.  To watch.  To participate.”

Macy looked at the crowd with new eyes.  Their dungeon group, for the most part, decked out in the best fetish gear the HoloDeck could supply.  Several recognized professionals, presenters and the like.  Colin had carefully screened out the creepy people.  Colin let her to the stage, into a spotlight that shone on a simple cross.

Colin hooked her wrists out, spreading her arms away from her body.  He linked her ankles to the center pole.  He traced the lines of her body with his hands, his fingertips soft as they teased her skin.

“You’re a horrible tease, Macy.  All these people?  They are here because you’ve offered them something, promised them something, but you always back away, don’t you?  That changes now.”

Colin backed away, just to the edge of the light.  He stayed within Macy’s line of sight.  A crowd of people descended on Macy, their hands touching and prodding.  Mouths teased her skin, licking and nipping.  When Macy looked in one direction, unseen fingers pinched her attention back.  The faces shifted rapidly, the crowd exchanging places peaceably enough.  Colin watched with a little smile of satisfaction, this was one scene Macy would not soon forget.  Doubtless their dungeon would discuss his successful negotiation for months.

Macy closed her eyes against the bewildering display of faces.  Someone took this as a sign to slip a blindfold over her eyes.  For once, Macy welcomed the sensation.  The touching was overwhelming enough without visual stimulation.  The prodding steadily increased.  Pinches got harder.  Caresses became slaps.  Nips became bites.  People fell away, leaving only a half-dozen or so in contact with her.

Suddenly, Colin pushed up hard against her.  The thrust of his fully clothed body rough against her naked skin.  He rubbed the ridge of his erection along her pussy.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you Macy?”

She said nothing, processing the abrupt shift in sensation and not sure what he wanted her to say.  He tore off the blindfold and slapped her hard in one motion.

“You didn’t think this was simply a sensation fest, did you?  That all these people came to touch you?  To taste you?  No, love, they came to see you beaten and fucked

“But a change of scenery first,” Colin said as he unhooked her from the cross.  He pulled her hard against him, possessing her mouth with his.  When he pulled away, the cross had been replaced by a single chain hanging down from the ceiling, two brackets set in the floor.  He positioned her carefully, her legs spread wide, her arms stretched overhead.

“Now for the show.  Lady Galla and her slave have a wager.  Lady Galla intends to make you scream, Macy.  And her slave intends to make you come.  Here’s the catch, love:  You haven’t my permission to do either one.”

Macy’s eyes flew open as Colin stepped away.  Silence was easy; Lady Galla had long had the goal of making her scream during a scene.  But her slave girl was attractive and doubtless talented, and Macy was a horny bundle of nerves after the first scene.

The pair approached.  Lady Galla wore sheer, flowing pants and a loose top, no doubt to keep cool as she worked.  She carried several canes.  Her slave girl wore only what Macy wore – leather and silk collar, cuffs, and anklets.  The girl was immaculately groomed, as always.  The girl dropped to her knees beside Lady Galla when the pair reached Colin.  Lady Galla nodded to Colin, received his nod of permission.

Then began an elaborate dance around Macy.  Lady Galla awakened her skin by tapping lightly, striking every bit of Macy’s fine skin.  Her girl continued the first scene – touching, pinching, licking, nibbling.  The slave teased out Macy’s responses, always careful to keep out of her Lady’s way.

The strokes grew harder; the groping more focused.  Macy moaned, enjoying the sensation but torn by Colin’s restrictions.  Her eyes sought him, where he stood watching intently, and she mouthed, “Please, Colin?”

A smile quirked his lips.  The HoloDeck carried his simple “No,” to her ears.  But the pair had noticed.  Lady Galla’s cane raised welts on Macy’s breasts, buttocks, and thighs.  Her girl settled on her knees between Macy’s legs, her mouth busy, fingers fucking Macy relentlessly.

Macy fought against the sensations, her body bucking against the restraints.  Macy wasn’t sure if she was more terrified of coming in public or defying Colin’s orders, but she fought to control herself.  The pair simply worked harder, pulling every bit of sensation and reaction from Macy’s obliging body.  The orgasm hit and Macy cried out simultaneously.  Waves of pleasure washed over Macy.  The pair withdrew slightly, their hands light on Macy, supporting her, pulling the last aftershocks from her.  Smiling, they withdrew from the spotlight.

Colin stepped into the light, close enough that Macy could feel his breath but not touching her.  Suddenly he slapped her, “Greedy, nasty little slut, aren’t you?  You didn’t have my permission, little one.”

Macy struggled to focus, to catch her breath.  Colin pinched a swollen nipple, rolling it painfully between his fingers and thumb, “Say it, little bit.  Tell them all what you are.”

He slapped her again before she managed, “I’m a dirty little slut.”

“Who can’t follow directions,” he prompted, slapping her again.

“Who can’t follow directions,” she panted out.

“That’s right.” Colin unhooked her wrists, draping her arms around him.  He held her close, “One more scene here, love?” he asked quietly, checking in with her.

She pressed herself hard against him, “Yes, please.  If you’ll fuck me.”

“Oh, I will little one.  But first, a punishment for your disobedience.”

Holodeck (part 2)

Again, this story contains more than spanking.  To my love - I hope you get a thrill seeing the story I wrote for YOU posted in public.  To all my other readers - Enjoy!  And don't forget to leave a comment!

“A darker fantasy, now, love.  Only a fantasy; you’re safe.”  Colin whispered as the room dissolved into the next scenario.

Macy opened her eyes to a cold, dark space.  Cold metal circled her wrists and ankles, the shackles rough on her skin.  The floor beneath her naked body was rough hewn stone, cold and grimy.  Her neck felt heavy.  Exploring fingers found a metal collar, welded shut.  The metal was warm from her body heat; her skin adjusted to its weight as though this collar was an integral part of her.

A slave, then.  The shackles were padlocked, the metal rough and uncomfortable against her skin.  A slave, shackled, in a cell; Macy’s thoughts stopped.  This wasn’t a fantasy she would have chosen to play out, for all she had written it.  Set in some ancient, semi-mystical time, she had imagined the flogging and birching of a runaway slave – the fanciful combination of two judicially sanctioned punishments.  She broke out in a cold sweat.

Too soon, she heard footsteps down the corridor outside her cell.  The door opened, torch-light burned her eyes, forcing her to close them.  Two men took her arms, roughly pulling her to her feet.  They were followed out by the torch-bearer.

Macy stumbled, hindered by the chain that bound her ankles together.  The men pulled her on, heedless of her struggles.  She forced her eyes open, attempting to keep her balance.  She was taken to an open arena, where she blinked hard against the sunlight.  A crowd was gathered around, watching other punishments and jeering at the hapless prisoners.

Macy began to tremble, a fine shuddering that she could not stop.  The guards dragged her over to a magistrate – a man dressed in flowing robes, wearing magnificent jewels.  Colin stood at the man’s right hand, dressed in loose linen pants similar to those the guards wore.  Colin was gorgeous, bare-chested, with only heavy gold cuffs around his wrists.

“Runaway slave,” the magistrate intoned, appearing almost bored with the proceedings.  “Second offense,” he looked up at her, “A simple birching didn’t teach you?”

“A flogging first, then.  With the birching to follow,” the magistrate considered Macy for a moment before he turned to Colin, “A pleasure slave, her skin will be very soft.  But she must be taught.”

“Of course, sir.”  Colin said tonelessly, his eyes sparkling as he considered Macy.

In a loud, ringing voice, the magistrate formally announced her sentence.  Macy caught the date, clinging to that and ignoring the rest.  The guards pulled Macy over to a whipping post.  One slid a hook through the rings on her wrist shackles, pulling the line sharply upwards.  Another guard winched the line up further, raising Macy nearly off her feet.  The guards stepped back, leering at her.

Colin walked around her, carrying a heavy flogger.  No instrument of pleasure, this one, the ends were tied into hard knots.  Colin paced around behind her, considering.

“Her hair will be in my way.  Cut it.”  He snapped the words out to the guards.

“But sir, her owner…she is a pleasure slave,” the guard stammered.

“Her owner lost ownership when she escaped him a second time.  She will be auctioned.  Cut it.”

Macy’s trembles increased.  A slave auction was never good.  And her hair!  Rough hands pulled at her hair, dull knives hacked off the length of it.  She could feel the uneven ends falling back against her head.

Colin stepped forward to inspect the cut, leaned forward and growled in her ear, “Perhaps now you’ll be cheap enough that I can purchase you.”

Macy jerked away, wrenching her arms painfully.  Bought by a guard who made his living inflicting punishment?  Owned by this sadistic man?  A rush of heat passed over her, bringing a flush to her skin and wetness between her legs.  She wouldn’t have run away a second time if she didn’t relish the pain.

The flogging began and Macy struggled not to cry out.  But soon her screams joined those of the prisoners scattered throughout the arena.  The crowd jeered.  The bulk of the crowd had abandoned the other scenes to watch the gorgeous pleasure slave.  Her skin marked so easily, broke so quickly.  Her lithe body strained and twisted in seductive ways, making her far more interesting to watch.

Macy fainted once, was revived by cold water flung on her face.  Colin stood close, watching her face.  He offered her a dipper full of water from his own hand.  But the flogging continued.  Macy was certain the magistrate had pronounced a certain number of strokes, but she could neither remember the sentence nor guess how many strokes had been applied.

This was no fun, gentle, sexy flogging.  It was torture and punishment.  Her throat was raw from her cries.  Her face wet with tears.  And her gorgeous skin glistened with sweat.

Macy sagged with relief when the guards lowered her down, grateful that they caught her arms and kept her on her feet.  They did not go immediately to the birching block.  Instead, she was led over to the side of the arena and flung roughly onto a cot.  A healer washed the wounds and applied a stinking salve that burned.  Macy passed out again.

Cold water awakened her.  She shivered now from the endorphins and the cold water that ran in streams across her skin.  Colin watched her impassively, but Macy could see the twitch in his cheek that said he was worried.  She managed a smile for him; then the guards were hustling her up and across the arena once more.

The birching block was set high, allowing perfect access for a man of Colin’s height.  Macy was lifted across the block, her ankles secured and thick leather straps bound across the backs of her knees.  Another thick leather band encircled her waist.  Her arms were left comfortably in front of her, her wrists shackled into place.

Colin brought the birch rod in front of Macy to inspect it.  He checked the suppleness of the switches and inspected the leather binding that held them together.

“A traditional birching requires figging as well.  But you know that, don’t you?”

Macy nodded.  She yelped when someone unseen shoved a peeled piece of ginger into her ass.

“We shall begin, then.”  Colin said calmly, taking up his position beside her.

The birching that followed was every bit as painful as the one Macy had experienced in a play session long ago.  She struggled against the block, but there was simply no movement allowed to her.  She gave herself over to the pain, breathing through it.  Her breath was harsh, rasping in her throat, and punctuated by low moans, but she did not dissolve into tears.  Her internal fight carried her higher, away from the pain inflicted on her body.  She soared, her body writhing in silent agony far below.

The healer had tended to her wounds and she had been placed in the auction line before she fully came back to herself.  Her body ached, though not nearly as much as it ought to have done, given the tortures she had endured.  She was shoved roughly onto the stage with a group of listless slaves.  This crowd was all business, considering each slave as potential property.  She saw other buyers roughly examining slaves around the outskirts of the crowd, perhaps private sales.

The bidding was fast and incomprehensible.  Buyers shouted and guards pulled random slaves off the stage into the hands of their new owners.  Macy was roughly pulled to the side and deposited nearly in Colin’s arms.

“I won’t need the shackles,” he growled at the guard, “Remove them.”

“But sir, she has escaped twice…”

Colin reached out and grabbed Macy firmly by a nipple, “She’ll not escape me.”

Macy gasped in pain, her eyes filling with tears at the unexpected assault.  Her body was so raw, so sensitive.  He played that, glaring at her as he released the nipple and took the other.  Her body arched towards him, acting without her conscious thought.

“You see?  The little bit can’t get enough of me.  That’s why she escaped twice, to feel my lash again on that gorgeous skin.”

The guard hastily unlocked the shackles, thoroughly confused by the scene playing out before him.  Colin ignored the man, his focus on Macy – the heat in her eyes, the raw desire.  Ignoring the lead attached to her collar, he pulled her to the side of the room, his fingers tightening and twisting mercilessly.

He pushed her hard against the wall.  The cool, smooth marble was a pleasant torture to her back and bottom.  He pushed himself hard against her, pulling back to release his powerful erection from the confines of his pants.

“I’ll show them what they are missing, shall I?” he growled as he pushed hard against her.  His hands grabbed her welted bottom, lifting her from her feet.  He plunged hard into her wetness, shoving her hard against the wall.

Macy cried out, pain overridden by pleasure.  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist.  Her hips bucked against him, taking him deeper, harder.  She was lost again, mindless in the combination of pleasure and pain.

There were gasps of admiration and good natured cheers from the crowd, but Macy and Colin were lost in one another, performing for a crowd they no longer noticed.

The crowd dissolved in a haze as they floated down from their climax.

“Tell me what year that was, Macy, and I’ll take you to one of your lovely fantasies.  If you’re wrong, the dungeon here will seem like a pleasant memory.”

Macy shuddered at the thought.  They had exchanged plenty of dark fantasies and millions of pleasant ones.  This one might even qualify as pleasant.  Although she had missed some of the details of her sentencing, she had focused on the date.  “April 15, 1692.”

“Good girl,” Colin said, stroking her cheek.  But which pleasant fantasy would he choose?