FFE returns

Hello everybody Hello.  Wasn't that a song or something from the old days.  We had a glorious week and weekend here in Arizona.  The smell of citrus blossoms is in the air and although wonderful, it can be almost overwhelming at times. My nose is constantly running and my eyes watering so I suspect I am allergic to that or something, but it's all good.

We went to the Out West Balloon Festival last evening.  It was a perfect night and seeing all those balloons flickering in the darkness was a sight to see.  We went early enough to watch them set up and inflate, it's a lot of work.  Ray has always wanted to go to the festival in Albuquerque and last night's outing was just a small portion of what it must be like in NM.  I arranged for a balloon ride for his birthday a couple of years ago and he loved it.  He was glad to wipe that off his bucket list.

Okay, enough, now to the story.  

To read from the beginning, click here.

Miranda winced at the sting of the first strike of the ruler.  ‘What happened to the warm-up?’  Spanked on a bare bottom by a ruler was not what she had in mind when she went to the club that night.  It was only supposed to be a ‘business type’ meeting to go over their contract. SPLAT, the ruler struck again. ‘Damn, I’ll remember never to set foot in the club again, no matter what.  Obviously, my ass is on the line, and I have to be on my best behavior to everyone here. Whoa.” The ruler found its target again.

Martin kept delivering spank after spank until Mirando was no longer able to process any thoughts beyond the pain of the spanking.  She reached the point where her ass was numb and no longer felt the strikes the individual spanks, only the overall pain.  Giving into the pain, her body relaxed.  Martin felt it and stopped the spanking.

“Are you okay?”

“You mean other than the fact that my ass is on fire and I’ll won't’ sit comfortably for quite some time.”  He laughed.

“Yes, that.”

“Yes.”

“Good, we’re halfway through this lesson,” he said.

“What do you mean, halfway…,  as the ruler found its mark again.  She never finished the statement, only sucked in a breath as the pain returned and she tried getting off his lap.

“Stay still, or you’ll get hurt.”

“I am hurt.”]

“Obviously not enough because you’re still talking and not at all respectfully.”

“Goddam that hurts,” she said as the ruler moved to her right thigh.  The left thigh was the next to feel the pain, and she practically rolled herself onto the floor.  If Martin hadn’t grabbed hold, she would have rolled herself right out the door.

“That’s going to cost you extra,” he told her. 

Martin was doing what he loved best and thoroughly enjoyed watching lily white globes turn a rosy red color.  It was his fetish and had been since puberty.  The club was his way of feeding that fetish.  He’d tried it in a personal relationship, a time or two, but the relationships always ended badly.  When he saw the advertisement for a financial partner in a business venture involving a BDSM club, he couldn’t believe the luck.  He stepped in, and he and Derek Andrews began Wink.  It turned out more successful than they had even anticipated.  With Derek as the managing partner, Don/Martin was free to participate or not in the club’s events. He had a few clients on his preferred list but mostly just came to the club when he needed to relieve some angst.  Spanking a bottom had always done that for him.

Miranda's bottom had that beautiful shiny rosy glow, and he knew it was time to stop. She had stopped squirming and complaining a few strokes back, so he knew she was more than ready.  He wondered if she knew how turned on she was by this punishment.  Her inside thighs were glistening with her juices.  They hadn’t discussed anything other than spanking.  He wondered if she expected more. He’d never crossed that line before and wasn’t sure he wanted to explore that possibility in a ‘business deal’.

“The spanking is over, only the apology is left,” he told her and began rubbing her back as he pulled her up to sit on his lap being careful to ease her down and position her so that her bottom was not touching him.  Her hair was a mess and her face almost as red as her butt and blotchy to boot. Tears were running down her cheeks, and he had the greatest urge to kiss them away. ‘Stop it,” he told himself.

Katrina enjoyed being comforted until she looked down and saw the wetness of her thighs.  She quickly jumped off his lap, wincing as her bottom scraped along the roughness of his jeans. Now, not only was her ass red but her face was just as red from embarrassment.  Catching sight of herself in the mirror along the back wall of his office, she buried her face in her hands.

Martin pointed to his washroom and excused himself, telling her he’d be back in about fifteen minutes. Katrina stumbled into the bathroom.  Her legs so stiff, she could barely walk and every step re-ignited the burn in her backside.  Closing the door behind her, and looking over her shoulder,  saw her striped backside and knew she would be feeling this spanking long into the night and probably into the next day.  ‘Is this really what I want,’ she asked herself.

Her brain said one thing but other parts of her body turned mutinous.  How could she possibly be so sexually excited about the pain and humiliation she had just experienced. She’d read about it in books but never assumed it happened in real life, only in novels.

Cautiously, she let her fingers trace the angry red lines on her ass.  The lightest touch hurt, but when she moved her fingers to her vagina,  the excitement began to build and the pain blended with the pleasure. Before she even realized what was happening she was stroking harder and harder and on the verge of orgasm when the door burst open and Martin appeared.

“What do we have here?” His presence and authoritative tone immediately squashed her orgasm. 

“Get out,” she yelled, “ and close the door behind you.”

“You forget, Miranda, this is my washroom and my club, and I can do any damn thing I please. Now come out and apologize to Derek and this whole thing can be forgotten.”

“You have got to be kidding.  There is no way I am coming out and apologizing to Derek, at this minute, in this state.”

“Miranda”

“I have not signed, nor agreed to anything, so I am not obligated to jump at your command.  The answer is no.  I will apologize when I’m ready and dressed. Now close

the door behind you and leave me be. I am speaking as Katrina, not Miranda.”

“Then you leave me no choice but to have you escorted out of the club.”

“Suits me fine, now let me get dressed,” she said and closed the bathroom door leaving him standing there, looking very much like Don Kostas and not Martin, the Masked Man.


See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.