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The Prelude

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A mutual exploration of the pleasures of spanking.
1.5k words
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She arrived on time, dressed as instructed. She arrived in a white blouse, buttoned to the neck with a short tartan skirt and bare feet. Underneath I knew there would be simple cotton underwear. She knew what I liked and rarely disappointed.

What was ahead of her could be considered by some as a punishment, but in this instance it was a mutual exploration of the senses. I was sat on an old solid wood dining room chair, my feet flat on the floor and my thighs horizontal, supprted by the seat of the chair.

I looked at her, raised my eyebrow and beckoned her across. She came and stopped just to the right of me as my hand reached up, cupped her cheek and pulled her lips to mine. They were soft, tasted of cherry and parted as my tongue slipped in to roam her mouth. I watched as her eyes glazed and closed, losing herself in the moment.

As I broke the kiss, I asked her if she was ready. She said "Oh, yes," turning so she faced across my lap. My feet and legs were slightly parted and she leant forward, my left hand raised to support her just below the throat, enabling a her to smoothely position herself with her stomach on my lap and breasts hanging over the outside of my left thigh.

My left hand now rested on the small of her back holding her there, letting her warmth seep through my trousers. The firm curve of her bum cheeks pushing up the tartan leaving a pleated fringe lapping the back of her thighs

"Point your toes," I said. As she did so her arse visibly relaxed.

"Very nice," I said and brought my right hand onto those tartan foothills to stoke and caress her.

At first this was from the outside, but as my hands slipped lower to her thighs I found her silky skin and when my hand returned it founds its way under the wooolen skirt, but over the cotton panties. As I stroked her it looked something like a bag of scottish polecats moving under a blanket.

Her head had just fallen forward and her hands held the base of the two chair legs. A low moan escaped her lips as I squeezed her bum and occassionally a finger or two slipped under the elasticated cotton edges. A more animal sound was heard as my fingers slipped into the moist valley between her legs brushing the length of her cotton clad labia.

By now my groin was also warm and I was sure she could already sense how I was enjoying this. I decided now to lift the skirt hem letting it rest on her back and exposing her cotton clad buttocks. As I resumed stroking her arse with my right hand, my left dropped to find her nearest breast. At first I cupped it, I then squeezed it before finding a nipple and, taking it between thumb and forefinger, I pinched it. The gasp this elicited showed it was time to move on.

"Now we will begin."

My right hand left her pants only to return a fraction of a second later, administering a moderate spank. Despite the warning this obviously caught her by surprise. She let out a little whelp, but immediately quitened herself. She tried to tense her buttocks - I could see her toes curl, but with pointed toes she could do little to lessen the impact. Instead her flesh moved deligtfully under that and each spank that was subsequently delivered. Without increasing the severity I worked both cheeks evenly and kept a steady rhythm - his was just the warm up.

Speaking of warm up, when I did stop and rested my hand on her cotton-clad mounds the heat radiating from them was immediately apparent. My hand moved slowly, gently, sootheing the battered flesh. I took a moment to listen to her breathing. It was now shallower and faster. I suspected arousal, but would take nothing for granted. The palm of my hand planed across one breast and then the other. Even through her bra and blouse I could feel how hard and prominent they were. They might have drawn blood from my palm had there been direct contact.

It was time for the reveal so gently with two hands I pulled down the waist band of her pants. On tip toes she raised her pelvis slightly to help me as I slipped that white garment down to her thighs, from where gravity helped it slip to her ankles. I left her panties there as there is something so right about and girl being spanked with her knickers at her feet.

This now revealed rosey hue of her buttocks. It started level with the top of her arse cleft and stopped as her buttocks joined her thights. The colour was not a red as cherryade, more like a well grown raddish, but it was certainly as hot as a fire.

I reached behind to a covered bowl I had prepared earlier. From it I took a cloth. It was wet and cool. This was not surprising as it held been sitting on a layer of meting ice cubes. Working quickly I opened the cloth to its full size, about a foot square and let it fall in a single movement across her glowing orbs.


Now this time she yelped!!! The shock of cold on hot was so unexpected that I let is mould to her contours and stay for a few seconds. Theses econds were enbough for the secondary effect which was for cool water to collect in her crack, run down her labia and drip off her pubic mound. I felt her catch her breathe as the rivulets reached her protruding clit and ran either side of it. After maybe ten second I reached into the same bowl and brought out a couple of ice cubes in my hand. These I then held with my inverted hand and ran over her red cheeks, icy cold, yet feeling fiery hot.

I continued with this until the cubes had all but melted her arse shiney wet and my right trouser leg now soaked - from water I think, but maybe not.

I llfted her chin to see that she was OK. her eyes were open but somewhere that was not quite here. She smiled and whispered "Thank you," and her head sank back down.

Now I pulled out a soft cotton towel and proceeded to dry her bum, a bit like a mum dries a babies bottom. The difference was that in this case I did not finished it with a liberal dowsing of talcum powder, but instead pulled out a piece of indeterminate but very soft fur and stroked all over the now cooling pink as if shining it.

"Are you ready for the next stage," I asked?

"Yes please," came the reply.

"OK, make sure your toes are pointed (she adjusted herself so the tops of her toes rested on the floor) and count each stroke and ask for the next one. Unless you ask for the next one you will not receive it and this session will end. Understood?"


"OK, first one."

With this I brought my hand down harder than before on her right buttock, and left my hand there. She let out a little cry, but almost immediately whispered "One. Another please."

I raised my hand and found her left buttock, again leaving my hand there until she asked for more. This carried on with alternate cheeks being spanked though the time between spanks started lengthening as she struggled to embrace the sensations, fiery pain, but also arousal. I could tell that by the smell alone.

We got up to 20 and I had done nothing but spank her, no further exploration between her legs at all. I tried to keep the spanks of even strength but as one landed on another it was obviously becoming harder for her. Her breath was becoming ragged and the tim between spanks, when she rested, was stretching out past 15 seconds.

At 25 I took the decision to stop. She had done very well, but was maybe beyond good judgement now. Instead I left her glowing cheeks to the mercy of a small draft and slipped my hand between her legs. They parted so naturally and my fingers slipped through frictionless labia until they found that wonderful clit. Even to my fingers I could feel it throbbing and sopping so I joined two fingers together and proceeded to move in circles over and around the bud.

Her hips started moving in time with my fingers, she wanted more, we both knew it, but for now all that was on offer was my fingers. Surprisingly quickly her hip movements and moans grew in intensity until she had an almighty cum lying across my knees. Her warm juices flooded my wrist, her head lifted with sightless eyes as she gave into the waves of pleasure. I continued stroking until her movements became jerky, almost convulsive as the sensations passed the line of pleasure; then I stopped.

She was a dead weight on me for a few minutes, but then I was able to help her up and she sat on my lap, head buried into my shoulder and wrapped in my arms, recovering her strength and finding her place.

The prelude was over.

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