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Instead something woke inside him. He stood and held out his hand. This is the signal for me to put my hand into his and follow his lead. I did that. He led me to the sofa where he sat down and tugged me a bit closer. Sometimes the devil just takes over. I looked at him and said, “ah not tonight” as I pulled my hand out of his and walked away.
He closed the distance between us in two giant steps, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me back to that sofa where he turned me over his knee and proceeded to deliver the harshest spanking I’d had for a very VERY long time. Worse still he did it all without saying a thing. Pushing MB to the point of silent anger is never a good move.
Once I could catch a bit of breath I howled and wailed and begged him to stop, saying he was hurting me far too much. He stood me up. “Hurting you too much, am I?” he asked, unbuttoning my jeans and then undoing the zip. He hooked his fingers into my knickers and in a single deft movement pulled pants and panties to my ankles before flipping me over his knee again. “I guess I’d better be able to see just what I am doing then.” He said as he lit into my quickly reddening backside again.
When his anger was spent he sat me on his lap and cuddled me briefly before sending me to the bath and then to bed. The after burn lasted for over 24 hours.
Hands up everyone who thinks this type of discipline spanking is sexual?
Too true it is! His authority, his taking control, are absolute turn ons for me. Maybe even more so in the second context (never followed by love making) than in the first.
