This story goes beyond spanking, into BDSM with a very sexual scene. If that isn't your thing...read something else.
They entered the courtyard a laughing trio, having enjoyed a
leisurely dinner full of banter and bratting. Franklin walked between the
girls, dressed in tight jeans and a black dress shirt with details that hinted
at the climax of their evening. The girls that bookended him wore cute party
dresses, but there the similarity ended. Elle, the taller of the pair, pulled a
rolling bag full of implements; Layla carried her change of clothes in a
messenger bag slung across her fit body.
Franklin paid their entrance fee and drifted off to talk to friends
while the girls slipped off in different directions. Elle assessed the scenes
in progress, the equipment available, and the prevailing mood in each room. Franklin
had given her specific instructions. She picked a spot and laid open his bag on
the floor.
She pulled her dress over her head with a practiced motion,
utterly unselfconscious about being nearly naked in a room full of people. Franklin
and she were known here. And while she played with others, none would approach
her while she was alone. The hand that curled around her bare waist could only
belong to her lover; her body responded automatically, leaning back against him
and curling around him.
Franklin spun her around and kissed her deeply. They spent a
moment in a tight embrace, oblivious to the room and people around them.
Finally, he slid his hands to her wrists, squeezed them tightly and pulled her
away enough to look at her.
She wore the ridiculously high-heeled black-and-purple shoes
she had fallen in love with when she’d seen the corset-like lacing up the back.
Black seemed stockings lengthened her already long legs, held in place by a
black lace garter belt. Over that, she wore a tiny purple thong. A simple,
gold, curved barbell graced her bellybutton. Her naturally perky breasts were
lifted slightly by a push-up, black lace bra.
Around her neck, she wore the “collar” they had settled on
for everyday wear. It was styled after a “Return to Tiffany” bracelet they had
found when they were first dating - a wide, but simple, gold chain that fit
closely just above her collarbone, with a smooth pendant that rested at the
base of her throat. The phrase engraved there – Return to Franklin – was as
acceptable in the vanilla world as it was understandable in this world.
Franklin smiled, well pleased with the way his girl looked
tonight. He squeezed her wrists tight, almost painfully tight, smiling at the
way she melted in front of him.
“Something is missing, little
one,” he said quietly.
She sunk down to her knees, turning quickly to his bag and
removing the black and purple wrist restraints Franklin had gotten custom made
for her. He fastened them around her wrists easily, though the process was not
so simple as he made it look. These restraints closed with a purple lacing
detail similar to that on her shoes and many corsets, instead of the typical
belt buckle closure. This pair was more decorative than functional, though they
served a purpose.
“Beautiful,” he said approvingly as she rose again to her
feet. He cupped her cheek in his hand and after checking in with her once more,
admonished her to finish her part of the preparations while he sought out the
third participant in their scene.
Elle found the cleaning supplies that were neatly hidden in
a nook and wiped down the bench she had selected. She laid out a towel on the
floor and began to arrange Franklin’s implements. She tried different
arrangements – from stingy to thuddy, from large to small – before settling on
one that pleased her eye. She rolled her dress neatly and tucked it into his
bag. She flipped out a smaller towel and opened one of his neat kits to unpack
a range of items he used for nipple torture. On the third and final towel, she
placed the other kits, unopened in case he wanted them.
By the time she finished, Franklin had returned with Layla.
Their scene had clearly started in the other room, for he dropped into the
chair closest to Elle and flung Layla over his lap. He rolled up her tight
skirt immediately before laying into her backside with his hand. Elle moved
around to kneel where she had a better view.
“The nanny paddle,” Franklin snapped, pausing only long enough
to reach for the implement that Elle placed instantly in his hand. The loud
smacks of the paddle echoed through the room, causing at least one casual
conversation to stop while the interested parties stared at the scene. It was
nothing elaborate yet, though, so conversations resumed around them as Franklin
worked his way through different implements.
Elle knelt quietly where she could both watch the scene and
reach the necessary implements to effect the exchanges that Franklin requested.
At one point, she stood and removed the girl’s panties at his direction and
under his watchful eye.
“Is she wet?” he demanded before
Elle had the chance to retreat.
Elle slid cool fingers between Layla’s
legs, and responded quietly, “A bit.”
Franklin slide his own fingers into the girl’s pussy as Elle
sunk back to her knees, “Not as wet as you are, love?”
Elle had the grace to look down, though she smiled. Franklin
reached out and smacked her face, “Don’t try to hide from me, pet. I know you.”
They returned to the easy flow of the scene. He would demand
an implement. She would offer it up handle first. He would hold out his current
implement, which she would take with one hand while placing the other in his
palm. He would resume spanking without more than a moment’s pause.
Although Layla was clearly enjoying the spanking, she fought
frantically against some of the implements. Her panties had flown across the
room and her tiny top had slid up to reveal the tantalizing view of one breast.
Franklin suddenly stood up, toppling her from his lap.
“Get her naked,” Franklin ordered. He moved to review his
implements while Elle helped Layla out of what little clothing remained. Franklin
flung a set of restraints over to the girls, and Elle scrambled to fasten them
around the other’s wrists and ankles.
“Here,” Franklin said, pointing to the lower portion of the
spanking bench, indicating that Layla should sit there. She did as she was told
without further direction. Elle stood and moved to the other side of the
implement-laden towel. Before she could sink back to her knees, Franklin had
another order, “Get her nipples hard.”
Elle caught her lower lip between her teeth, looking
sideways at Franklin for just a moment. When he stared evenly back at her, she
walked over to Layla, placed a hand on either knee and sunk to her knees before
the other. She cupped the girl’s breasts in her hands, teasing them gently
before lowering her mouth to first one nipple, then the other. Her fingers
pinched and twisted one nipple while her lips and tongue worked the other.
When one nipple was hard, Franklin pushed Elle away from it
to attach a clamp while Elle focused on the other. Franklin pushed her away a
second time to attach the second clamp. He watched the reaction of one girl
after the other, enjoying the way one processed the pain while the other craved
it.
Suddenly, he turned to Elle and smacked her face several
times. “What are you doing? Sitting there staring? I want my cane.”
Elle scrambled after the requested implement, but when she
had it in hand, Franklin had turned his attention to securing Layla over the
bench. Elle sunk back on her knees, watching, her eyes bright. Franklin reached
out without looking and Elle put the cane in his hand.
