My name is KattieLynn. I'm 26 years old, though the events I'm about to describe happened about 5 years ago. I'm a straight female, white, dark brown hair (almost black), blue eyes. I'm 5' 4" and weigh 115 lbs. At the time, I was in college, living off-campus with a guy named Tucker ("Tuck" for short). We had met at a party the year before and had dated on and off for several months before he asked me to move in with him. He had a nice apartment, was reasonably neat (for a guy) and I was tired of dorm living, so I went along with it. We split the rent and utilities, with Tuck and I also splitting kitchen duties and laundry.
Tuck had served two tours in the Army, in Special Forces. He was very well built, standing just over 6 feet tall, with blond hair and blue eyes. He was going to school under a GI Bill kind of deal -- the Army had given him enough money to account for full tuition and he had savings set aside so he could complete his four year degree. He was intelligent, well spoken, and (most importantly for me!) an excellent lover. Our sexual activities were limited only by our imagination and stamina and believe me, we had plenty of both!
It was a Saturday afternoon. I had played several games of tennis with Alexia, my regular partner, who I usually beat. Today, for some reason, I lost 6-love, 6-3 in two sets. I came back to our apartment very much out-of-sorts. Tuck was sitting on the couch, in his usual Saturday attire (shorts and his raggy Army t-shirt) watching a football game, which I promptly interrupted. I needed to talk and he was going to listen, whither he wanted to or not! I turned off the set as I stormed into the room.
"Hey! I was watching that!" he exclaimed.
I sat down and proceeded to tell him everything that was on my mind, how my game sucked, my muscle tone was poor, my stance was off, etc., etc., etc. He reached over to comfort me, and I slapped his hand away. I failed to notice the squirt that came into his eyes -- and the way he was looking at me. He reached for me again, grabbing my hands as I tried to slap at him again. Now, I'm in shape, but this guy is so much stronger than me! We started to wrestle around on the couch. I can usually take care of myself, but Tuck is very skilful at hand-to-hand combat (by this time, I'm laughing because, as he's grabbing at me, he's also copping a feel and tickling me!). Before I knew it, he had pulled me forward so I was I was laying face down over his lap. He had both of my hands controlled in one of his, with both my legs trapped between his. I was completely helpless and, despite my best efforts (and, believe me, I made them!), I couldn't get free!
"Well, what have we here?" he asked, looking at me as I lay there squirming around trying to get at least one hand free to continue our match. "Looks like someone deserves a sound spanking for all the grief she's giving me today!"
"You wouldn't DARE!" I exclaimed. "I've never been spanked (which was true -- my parents didn't believe in corporal punishment)! Let me up NOW, Tucker!"
"Well, we'll just see about that" he said. I was still wearing my tennis skirt, which he proceeded to lift with his free hand. "My, which silky panties you have, little girl" he said, running his hand over my upturned ass.
"Tucker, don't you dare!" I exclaimed. "Look, I'm sorry I turned off your stupid football game (probably not the brightest thing I could say in my position, over his knees, with my ass in the air, my skirt up around my waist, and him in total control of the situation!).
"Too late for that, love." His hand was resting on my butt now, lightly stroking the firm mounds of my butt through the material of my tennis panties. He lifted his hand and brought it down, striking me smartly on the ass. "Ouch! Hey, that HURT!" I yelled.
"I think it's supposed to" he laughed, striking me again (but I noticed not as hard!). There was something here that I didn't understand. Maybe it's a part of the female makeup that we sometimes like to be dominated by our man, or maybe it's part of our makeup to need, at certain times, be submissive -- I don't know, but the thought of how I must look, bent over his knee like some errant child, being spanked, stated to turn me on!
"Tucker, stop, please! I'll be good! I'll even turn on the TV so you can finish watching that dumb game (by now, I was baiting him, not really sure I wanted him to stop -- it felt good!)!