📚 allison - a spaning story Part 15 of 15
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ADULT BDSM

Allison A Spanking Story Pt 15

Allison A Spanking Story Pt 15

by imberlygirl
19 min read
4.11 (4600 views)
adultfiction
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At the conclusion of Pt 14, I suggested that 15 would focus on what became of Elliot. Sometimes I think I am going in one direction only to find myself wanting suddenly to explore somewhere else. I think this story has 1 or 2 more additions prior to its conclusion. I hope you enjoy it.

*

I do have a suggestion for those not enjoying it, however. Should you find this story is not to your liking, stop reading it.

Lastly, someone recently commented about their disappointment about how the story lacked sufficient romance and "love." I've received a couple of comments like this.

They made me smile.

This is a work of deeply troubling, erotic fiction, offered to you free of charge. This is a fucked up story for those of us who get off on some twisted stuff. As much as I love it, I'd not want to be any of the characters in this story. If you are looking for a narrative about the purity of spiritual love and sex, this is not it.

*

This story takes place in the Perfect Beginning Universe. It makes brief mention of Michele's work.

For me, first time is always the most exciting. Compounding the excitement is the anxiety when at least one character realizes that they are not the person they thought they were.

This story takes place in a very male dominant society, one which is even more patriarchal than our own. Pete comes to realize that as he falls under Allison's spell, he does not measure up to societal expectations. These two young people are discovering and becoming as they grow together as a couple.

Psychological conflict and tension are central themes in this story.

*

The following is an outline of how this society operates. The Perfect Beginning provides a slightly more comprehensive description of the universe.

* People are legal adults at 18 years of age.

* People usually live to about 2,000 years of age.

* The cultural norm has almost all legal adults living with their family of origin until they turn 200 years old.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 are treated as and referred to as children when they choose to continue living with their parents.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 often behave much as we would expect teenagers to behave here in our world. They are kept in a state of arrested emotional development.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 years customarily consume "blockers" which prevent them from having sexual feelings or impulses.

* Some young people will begin to "date" around 160 yers of age and while they are expected to continue to take their blockers, some will surreptitiously stop taking them while a few will stop responding to them.

* Age and masculinity are revered in this world. Everybody looks up to their elders and few seriously question the patriarchy.

All characters in the story are over 18 years of age.

It is customary for those below the age of 200 to demonstrate their status by wearing clothing which signify to others that they are off limits. They would wear what we would think of as children's clothing. Remember, an 18 year old and a 1,900 year old would look exactly the same age, so children's clothes are very useful for signaling to those over 200 years to abstain from any romantic or sexual pursuit of another who was deemed of an inappropriate age.

Lastly, sex is not technically illegal for people between the ages of 18 and 200 years. It is considered profoundly taboo. Adult-children (18+) do have sex but it is kept very quiet. Some parents punish their children for engaging in this sinful pleasure and adult-children almost never tell-on one another in this regard, even those who might not like one another. Adult children live by a code and violation of said code subjects one to complete ostracization. Almost none experiment until they are well over 160 years old.

*

"Oh my god, you are so needy."

He'd just asked her if she wanted a food rub while she did her homework.

"I thought maybe you'd like it."

"No." She continued peering over the top of her book, "You want to rub my feet for yourself. You were only thinking about yourself. You know how I feel about selfishness. I mean, is that something we all are just suddenly okay with?"

He had to turn his head, just then, to look out the window. This was insane.

She treats me like a servant! How does she even...! How can she say...!

"Look at me when I speak to you!" said crossly.

He quickly steadied his breathing and redirected his attention to Allison.

Looking huffy, she slapped him quite hard across the face. "You know better than to look away when I'm speaking to you, young man. I'll not tolerate disobedience on top of disrespect. Gracious!"

He faced her but his eyes were down cast. With his chin remaining down, he raised his eyes timidly, "Yes, Miss. I apologize, Miss"

Peter was beyond situational confusion. Much of the time he was so out of his mind horny for his babysitter that her outrageous demands were unquestioned.

Because Allison says.

They kept him perpetually aroused. He was a hypersexual and prior to his current situation, he needed to get himself off at minimum eight times a day, but often a lot more. This was how he remained regulated and relatively clear headed. The women would not allow this and he was kept without relief for days at a time. Unfortunately they saw to it that relief, when it came, was not really relief at all.

Yet he did have clear moments when he saw objectively how insane were many of the demands put upon him. He saw how insane his life truly was. He saw how insane was his own reaction to it all. Often this occurred when none of the women were around. Sometimes it occurred right in the moment of his situational craziness. This was such an occasion.

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In this, there was perfection. Allison simply loved exercising and demonstrating her power and dominance over a boy.

She never once lost sight of just how much she valued this particular element of their relationship. In her mind, the impulse was part of what made a little girl, a little girl. In her mind, it was what made girlhood a wonderland in which she wanted always to live. She was clearly aware of just how much she loved being unreasonable. Leveling an unreasonable demand or expectation was titilating. To her, her access to this expression, outrageous unreasonableness, was a sacred element of dominating another person. And it was all authentic. She loved the unadulterated purity and righteousness of the entitlement inherent to it. She was not posing. She was not projecting. Her proven dominance earned her a refined sense of authentic entitlement. This was what no other girl had, none that she knew. It was pure girl-dom. This was why she'd always have a boy.

She wanted what she wanted and at moments, what she wanted was to be impossible and getting to be this way with at least one person, electrified her mind and body. She so enjoyed being outrageously unfair because not only did she rush with the sense of entitlement, it actually made her supremely horny.

The women were serious in their expectations of Pete and would not tolerate even a hint of defiance. If given any attitude, a spanking was in order and as serious disciplinarians, any of the women would gladly put him over her knee for correction. All of them greatly enjoyed administering correction, discipline and punishment.

Yet this was very much Allison's "thing." She liked baiting him emotionally. At times, they all did it, but it was simply more special to Allison. She enjoyed toying with his emotions, provoking him to the point he lost his bearing and gave her a reason to spank him. Being the unfair, imperious and tyrannical babysitter was her at her most little girl.

For this reason, she studied him.

She loved that there was some part of Pete still in there that wanted to be a man.

As she knew full well that his heart rate sped and his blood pressure just elevated, she relaxed further into her arousal.

Lowering her book to her chest, she fed him a spoonful of her cruelty. "What do we say about selfishness, Little Peter?"

Would he swallow?

She looked for his reactions. Pain and resignation would sooth her. Conversely, his indignation would be sublime as it was a spanking offense. She was on the edge of spanking him anyway as all she really needed was to imagine his discontent and she'd have him crying over her bent knee.

Happy girl!

Allison's arousal was building with the anticipation.

He steadied himself with the deepest breath he could manage despite his constricting chest, "It's not allowed, Ms. Allison." That went well. He sounded right, at least to himself.

He swallowed.

Yes, good boy. Swallow your medicine, little boy. Swallow. Spoonful at a time. Until later.

His eyes wandered to her feet.

She had little Barbie feet with the highest arches. He painted her toenails several times a week and was more than intimate with them. On this day, she wore her Keeds all day at school without socks. He knew because as ever, he assisted her dressing each morning. He'd have noticed anyway. He needed to smell them. He wanted to lick her feet desperately.

He thought back to the day before when she let him be her foot licking puppy dog.

*

"Little doggie just loves my stinky feet," she smiled down at him.

"Yes, Ms. Allison."

The smile vanished as she leaned forward and slapped him quit smartly across the face. In the voice of a very demanding little girl. "Doggies don't use words!"

Allison liked to play mind games and was an imaginative, young lady and enjoyed imaginary adventure. She was a 120 something year old. However she loved to imagine herself as a very mature, precocious, demanding and imperious 13 year old babysitter. Sometimes she seemed clearly to be a grown woman, despite her very youthful appearance. Other times, at her most demanding, she projected as quite a bit younger than 13.

As she reclined once more, he whimpered his doggie understanding. He knew he had that slap coming and cursed himself for irritating her. They were clearly playing doggie. He knew he needed to pay better attention.

As he licked her feet clean, she got ticklish and began giggling like a little girl. She kept letting him and she kept laughing and pulling her foot away only to let him lick a bit more. His cock was rock hard, but he was so happy to see her in such a happy, playful mood and to know he caused it.

Making her giggle like this, causing her such carefree joy, filled his heart with love. He was her puppy and in that moment, nothing else. He was excited to be her doggie. He might have had the biggest doggie boner but he was in love with his master and felt so connected to her. This was happiness for him now.

*

On this day, he was not thinking about the lighthearted joy he got from being her puppy dog.

I just wanted to do something nice for her.

This was largely true.

He did love the smell and taste of her stinky feet. He could feel his balls throbbing with need. He'd not cum in so long and the hornier he got, the more desperate he became to make her cum.

Foot licking invariably led to crotch licking, both activities he lived for.

His erection flexed and his balls got somehow heavier and ached with terrible need.

Certainly she knew he enjoyed attending to her but to describe it as selfish was mind bending and he wondered if she was so self centered that she did not see the irony.

The irony was her very favorite part.

"You are such an emotional, little boy," Allison declared in her uniquely superior way.

This was her sport and it infused her with a tremendous sense of wellbeing. Either by grinding down on what remained of his ego or stoking his insecurity, she found the most intimate and delicate pleasure. Letting go and riding her mood, just using her words, facial expressions and gestures to make him cry felt to her like "little girl play time." Bullying him this way made her feel special and she could feel her arousal burning hotter.

This was what the perfect, "nice girl," babysitter got to do to the little boy who was in love with her when nobody was around to protect him. It was deliciously naughty and aroused her in a way comparable to when he ever so gently kissed her crotch through her cotton panties.

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Sometimes Babysitter is just so terribly difficult. Poor little boy.

In moments like these, she kept words like "mean" out of her self description. Especially when she felt herself as the babysitter, she was a "good girl," above all else. Her goodness justified her authority, at least partly. Allison knew there were a lot of reasons she was on top.

Allison was self realized and after going to so many Good Girls on Top support group meetings, she knew herself to be an emotional sadist and was more than comfortable with the realization. Yet when she played or otherwise managed her boy, she was invested in her role as the supremely good-girl, babysitter and he would always see her as such.

Peter knew she was right. He was an emotional boy. He did not, previous to this relationship, know this about himself but at this point, there was no denying it. Sometimes he was a mess.

His emotions were beside the point; he was just being helpful.

Even at her most condescending Peter was bedazzled by her shining, fresh-faced beauty. She seemed always to sparkle. While she did not walk about with a beaming smile on her face, when dealing with him, she revealed the pleasure of self satisfaction. There was pleasure in her realization of superiority. Sometimes her lips hinted at a smile yet her eyes revealed her true pleasure.

He could not look away from her perfect beauty and knew she deserved to be difficult.

She's perfect. Babysitter. Love her!

His emotions were about to overwhelm him.

So often he found himself fluctuating in his perception and feelings. One moment she was a selfish bitch but then he'd look at her, felt his undying love and knew none of that mattered. Notions of right and wrong bothered him, but he knew it did not matter. The sooner he made peace with this, the better. Failure to do so invariably led to punishment.

There was only one person in his whole world and he looked up to her. She was much younger than him, just a girl, but in all things, he answered to her.

Internalizing her barbed aspersions, he was not able to see that he was of any value at all. They'd made a great deal of progress in this way. She was bending his perspective and with her fierce will, her beauty and sex appeal along with spanking, he was far more inclined to think the way she preferred. If she said he was naughty or selfish, as absurd as it may seem on the surface, he was quick to wonder if it was true. He was highly motivated to see things her way. Any resistance to her assessment of his character was met with correction. If she said he was being selfish, his first response was to wonder how he'd been so selfish. All the women studied him carefully at these times such that any hesitation or disagreement in facial features was cause for correction.

Yet sometimes the preposterousness of her statement caught him off guard. Other times, it was simply not possible to agree with her, internally, at least. That's not fair! were the words that echoed through his head when this happened and his facial features made him an open book to the ladies.

His apparent indignation, no matter how mild or abbreviated, was met by a well pleased, closed mouth smile followed quickly with a bottom roasting. It could come from any of them, "I'm sorry, little one, but obstinance simply will not do...shame on you...how dare you...now you've done it...if you ask for a spanking, you will get one...I'm sorry but it can't be helped... Let's get you that spanking you seem to want so badly." With a brilliant smile and overly theatrical "exasperation," "When will you ever learn?"

In truth, rarely if ever was he a true source of exasperation to any of the ladies. One of the reasons he was treasured by them was that no matter from where they derived real world frustration, they could share it with Peter in the most productive way, with a spanking. They were convinced it was the most healthy exercise they could ever engage in.

Nothing was more disorienting to Peter than the sudden and utterly inexplicable emergence of a "mood."

He did not understand that by bending over and taking all of Allison's cruelty, cock hard, trying his hardest and failing each and every time to hold back his torrent of tears, he was the perfect boy for her.

Allison loved speaking down to him and did so a great deal. For her, underscoring the hierarchy was fun. Placing the text book in her lap, she readied herself, "Overly emotional, if you ask me. Just like a little girl." As an afterthought, as though spoken to herself, "He really does belong in panties."

Her response was ridiculous and in his mind, completely unnecessary. Yet he was likewise certain his erection just got somehow harder and smaller.

God, just say "no" if you don't want a foot rub! It's supposed to be for her! You're the one who's too emotional!

He knew it was for himself too but it did not matter as she was insane.

With her last comments, he bunched his lips and exhaled through his nose. Lost in thought and awash in emotion, he let down his guard. Had there been even a suggestion of ambient noise and more than a few feet separating them, it would have been undetectable.

Instantly, he regretted this hint of irritation. He knew better than to "act up" in any way when in this loving home. At times like these, he employed prayer:

Please let it go!

"Really? Are you serious, right now? Are you kidding me!" It was clearly a declaration of indignation masquerading as a question.

His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide with fear.

This was why she kept a boy. This was why she knew that for the rest of her days, she would be a babysitter. Allison was a very moody girl and now she got to act on it.

Am I in a mood?

Instantly she realized she wasn't actually in a mood at all. She just wanted to go after him for the joy and exhilaration of it all. This was all about pleasure. This was her girl-sport!

The outside world saw her as prim and proper and this was an authentic reflection of how she felt and saw herself. Out and about, she was self possessed and a bit reserved. A few thought she might be a bit conceited and wondered if in her social reservation there might be a bit of superiority. For those who thought they might have glimpsed a bit of superiority, they'd come back to her projection as a girl, one who, if anything, dressed younger than her age. Could one think themselves superior as just a girl, no matter how prim and proper?

Though composed, Allison was supremely arrogant.

With a boy of her own, she could share everything. Not only did she get to be moody, she got to enjoy being moody. If Allison was anything, she was an emotional sadist and she loved traumatizing her poor boy. And he was hooked.

My little hooker. My poor, owned, little boy, spanking whore.

His big, beautiful panty sheathed erection told her all she needed to know about his need, even when she brought him to tears. She knew all about his confusion as it was a product of her design.

Poor, needy, little boy.

And she did not take it for granted as she relished getting to do this each and every time.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Allison, I did not mean too." His urgency to correct his misstep almost caused him to raise his voice in desperation. That would only make things worse.

Seeing his distressed, pleased and calmed her further. She'd employed an edge to her voice for the sole purpose of provoking his fear. His fear of her always made her want him.

She knew she'd have at least one orgasm just from spanking him.

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