Caris Naughty Valentines Day

Cari stands in the corner, ruefully rubbing her burning bum. She's just endured a prolonged spanking, face-down wriggling and protesting as her bare bottom was thoroughly smacked. Previous experience leads her to suspect the punishment isn't over.

"I'm not done yet, you're in a lot of trouble for forgetting Valentine's Day," says Cari's handsome husband, Miles, presciently sensing her train of thought,

Cari has a very different take on February 14th from most people. No slave to tradition - although there are some circumstances in which sexual slavery might appeal - she craves coercion, not cuteness, jeopardy and control instead of hearts and flowers.

"Wasn't deliberate," she pouts, untruthfully. "Anyway, it's a load of fluffy pink nonsense, just greetings card makers cashing in."

"Well, aren't you the romantic," Miles observes sarcastically. "No matter, you'll suffer the consequences."

Cari's adrenalin surges, her blatant provocation has started something, the problem being she's no idea what. This unspoken question is partly answered when Miles leads Cari to the centre of the room and has her stand, hands on head; these few short steps cause her tangled panties to slide down from knees to high heels. "Since you're unrepentant there'll be extra spanks," he growls, "on your thighs."

"Please, no!" Nothing is worse or as humiliating. At least her bum is accustomed to the impact of his hand - heaven knows, Miles spanks Cari often enough - whereas the soft, pale skin at the top of her legs is extremely tender. Oh dear, Miles hasn't begun and she's already blinking back tears.

"Back and front, count them out loud."

Cari's lips tremble, aside from shoes, she's naked from the waist down, shaven vulva embarrassingly prominent. No reason to blush, they've been living together for years, but the girl just can't help it. Cari's braless breasts are covered by a top so tight they render her prominently erect nipples very visible. Her buttocks smart horribly from the earlier 'naughty girl' chastisement, a marked (and marking) contrast to their customary fun spanking games.

Logically, she shouldn't feel aroused, but Cari's body unilaterally overrules her rational mind. If sweet nothings and cooing endearments make your heart soar, fine, Cari isn't the romance police, simply prefers her sexual encounters several shades darker. If she's going to flirt, let it be with danger. Why wait to be swept into your man's arms when he can forcibly bend you over?

Whack! An impact assails her left thigh. Back to reality.

"You seem to be having difficulty staying in the moment," observes Miles in a dangerously quiet tone.

"What?" A livid handprint decorates Cari's thigh. "Sorry, one," she adds, stumbling over words, belatedly recalling she's meant to keep tally.

"Just in time," Miles responds, punctuating the remark with another slap. Cari blurts out numbers in an increasingly anguished voice. When he finally pauses at 12, her upper legs are crimson and match her heat-radiating bottom.

"Ow," complains Cari, petulantly, hopping from foot to foot in a solo dance of discomfort, "so hot and sore." Demonstrably true - but not the full story. Miles' effortless authority, coupled with Cari's imagination, has kindled an altogether fire down below.

"You know the rules, behave badly, pay the penalty," Miles chides, soothingly stroking his partner's glowing globes.

"Could you, please?" she ventures, tentatively.

"What?"

"Make me better?"

"How?"

"Make me come." Cari looks pointedly at her denuded kitty, slick with excitement and submissively awaits his attention. In response, Miles holds Cari firmly around the waist, easily inserting two fingers into the honeyed portal of her sopping pussy. Seeks out the ultra-sensitive g-spot while simultaneously circling her clit, rapidly fingering Cari to the release she desperately craves.

"What are you?" Miles enquires, relishing his dominance.

"Bad," gabbles Cari, "slutty, crazily horny." All true.

With no permission to participate, her role is entirely passive, surrendering to whatever satisfaction he might deign to bestow. Entirely at Miles' mercy, panting and quivering, Cari's knees give way as she reaches a shuddering climax. Catching her fall, he carries Cari to the sofa, lowers her gently onto the cushions and spreads her legs wide. She's earned another orgasm, despite the 'confession' of her memory lapse being such an obvious lie.

Miles knows full well there's a Valentine's card with his name on it, however grudgingly purchased, hidden in her lingerie drawer. Why the deception and disobedient girl role play? Because, from Cari's perspective, nothing else matches the intensity of such disciplinary encounters, taking her to the edge of endurance and the heights of pleasure. Her gothic-inspired, overly Anne Rice-influenced fantasies are in overdrive, Cari had too much to dream last night.

Miles is also aware of the special meal she plans to cook later, its ingredients are already in the 'fridge, something of a giveaway. Cari can be delightfully transparent when attempting subterfuge. Despite this, he understands her atavistic need to submit and indulges the bratty charade.

"What are you going to do to me now," she enquires boldly, wide-eyed with hope and expectation. In silent reply, His lips lightly trace her inner thighs and labia, then lick the length of her vulva, stopping just short of Cari's clitoris, tormenting her with unrequited need. She tingles with anticipation, eager for further incursions as Miles repeats the process, building erotic tension while deferring the yearned-for gratification. Finally, his mouth alights once more on her wet pussy, moving up and down the sweet folds, sucking Cari's clit, tongue forcing entry. Oh God thinks Cari, he's so good at going down on me, this teasing is almost unendurable.

"I'm going to do this until you think you can't possibly come anymore, then roll you over, remove that butt plug and fuck your tight little arse to prove otherwise," says Miles, unambiguously.

The dirty talk alone is sufficient to send Cari's arousal to stratospheric heights. Oh, to experience the thrust of Miles' cock.

The butt plug Cari carefully inserted earlier is a green light to (but no guarantee of) rear entry, a transgressive rebuttal of saccharin-sweet canoodling. She opens her legs further as he adeptly laps at her cunt, moaning deliriously, suffused by libidinous waves, driven to a frenzy of desire. Grabs hold of a cushion as the intensity increases, vagina pulsing, lost to sexual abandon. An orgasm starts in her clitoris, then ripples through her lower body in an electric wave so all-consuming Cari scarcely remembers to breathe as she comes and comes.

"Think of this as an alternative Valentine's present," says Miles as he turns Cari onto her front. The butt plug slips out easily from between her glowing cheeks, instantly replaced with the greater girth of Miles's straining cock, carefully entering her beckoning rosebud. He straddles her prone form, pinning Cari in place, the feeling of helplessness is wonderful. Lubricated by her cunt juices, his cock sinks deeper, Miles has never previously plundered and stretched her most intimate orifice so ardently.

Cari slides a hand down to finger her gaping slot, sensing Miles is close to coming. The sensations are all almost too intense, should she use their safe word for the first time? Close to the edge, Cari bucks her hips, fingers frigging furiously, buttocks tightly squeezing the rigid rod blissfully filling her back passage. Despite his best intentions to hold out and prolong their mutual pleasure, Miles climaxes copiously, flooding her arse with hot sperm, a catalyst to Cari's third euphoric orgasm.

Dreamily satiated, she imagines tomorrow's inevitable conversation at the office: Do anything special on Valentine's Day? My man spanked me and then fucked my bottom, it was wonderful. Possibly too much information and unlikely to be considered an appropriate response. She might say it anyway...