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Overdraft (m/f, nc, spank)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Following is fiction, NC Spnk M/F + Sex
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Phillip Cabell sat slumped at the large antique roll-top desk on the
second floor landing, his anger evidenced only by the quiver of the
envelope he was holding. Their bank's return address was visible; the
enclosed letter politely explained that First National had been
unfortunately required to advance $550.00 into their joint account. Three
checks had been received for which deposited funds were
insufficient...since they were such good customers...usual 18% interest
rate...Sincerely yours...
He got up and went downstairs, through the kitchen, and stood staring out
the back window at the riot of autumn color. The oldest tree on the
generous lot, a huge, gnarled sugar maple, was scarlet in the late
afternoon sun. The sound of the front door slamming snapped him out of his
reverie.
"Darling?! I'm home early...my photography class was cancelled because
Jamison has the flu, and I rushed....well, hi, honey! What are you doing
staring out the window?" Ann Cabell strode into the kitchen running a
hand through her walnut brown hair, shaking it out of the slate blue tam
she wore against the late October chill. "I rushed home thinking I might
catch you before you left, and maybe we could grab a quick bite...and here
you are! Well. Yes. Honey? What's wrong?"
Through all of this, Phillip had stood silent. He was appreciative of
Ann's early appearance...in fact he was happy to see her any time...not
only because he approved of her lush good looks, but because she was such
a spark of excitement and energy, so perfectly complementing him. Most
days, anyway. Today he could do with considerably less excitement. "I
got a letter from the bank, Annie." Her face fell, her eyes hooded with
alarm.
"Damn!" she muttered under her breath. "Well?" He stood, imposingly, in
front of her, drawn up to his full height, arms crossed, holding the
letter.
She had to look up to meet his eyes. He was over six feet, and she only
5'4", so even in the 3 1/2" heels she had on today he towered over her.
She cleared her throat and brought her voice down a half-octave. "Look,
darling, I am sorry about that, I had intended to get to the bank the day
before yesterday and deposit that check we got from my Dad, as well as the
one from the parents of the kid I am tutoring, you know? But I got hung
up in the city, and there wasn't time to get there, and then yesterday I
had that screaming headache, and I, well, I forgot, and..." "And I cannot
tell you how many times we have had this same discussion, Ann. It's
really simple...you do not write a check until you have the money in the
account to cover it. Is that a tough concept? Is there something there
you don't...." He broke off as he saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry,
you're right, I don't need to be sarcastic. Let's sit down." He took her
shoulders, kissed her mouth quickly, turned her around and guided her into
the big kitchen. He pulled out chairs for both of them from the oak
table, and sat facing her, his arms resting on his knees, leaning forward
earnestly.
"This stuff gets put in your credit file, Ann, *our* credit file, and I
don't want it there. Even if they *didn't* put it in there, it is simply
not good business to spend money you don't have. Now we have to pay it
back plus some interest, and you know perfectly well I was counting on us
using that money to get away together for a long weekend, we both were...
remember?" Ann's face fell. She had forgotten. They had talked about a
long weekend in the Berkshires when Dad's check came...that had slipped
her mind too. She felt worse than ever. "Oh, Phillip, I am so sorry..."
He sat back in his chair, unfolded his arms, tossed the bank's letter onto
the table. He said nothing. They could both hear the grandfather clock
thick-thicking in the front hallway.
She ventured a look at him after long minutes. Anger. Love. Lust.
Longing.
Anger again. "Shall we handle this in our special way?" he finally said,
so quietly she had to lean forward to hear him. "Oh" she said in a small
voice, remembering the last time. "I think you deserve a good hard
spanking, Ann. As your husband, it is my job to see that you fulfill your
vow of obedience, isn't it?" "Yes, Phillip," she said, not looking up
again. "And you deliberately disobeyed what I told you the last time
about this, didn't you?" "Well, I..." "Didn't you?" "Yes," she sighed.
"Yes, what?" "Yes, Sir."
"Go upstairs, honey, and take off your things, your coat and purse, I
mean. And bring the hairbrush with you when you come back down." "Down
here? In the kitchen?" "Yes, in the kitchen. Now move. I don't want to
be kept waiting!" "Yes, ok, darling...I am sorry..." "I know you are,
Annie...and you know you deserve this, don't you?" "Yes, Phillip, I
know." She turned and ran from the room, he heard her climbing the stairs
with decent haste.
There was a small interlude, during which he rolled his left sleeve up
almost to the elbow, and pushed the chair farther away from the table. He
heard her clear her throat again, and looked up to see her in the doorway
of the kitchen. She wore a dress the color of old blood, printed all over
with small flowers, with an empire waist and buttons from scoop neck to
hem. The last four buttons were unfastened, when she moved toward him the
dress parted to show a good portion of her legs, sheathed in sheer black
hose. She walked around him and stood at his left, then crouched down and
folded her arms on his thigh. "Sweetie, please, I think we can work this
out without a spanking after all." "Oh?" He arched an eyebrow at her.
"How is that?" He couldn't resist running his long fingers through her
hair, brushing her cheek, marvelling again at her fair, taut skin. "Well,
I thought if I maybe gave you a massage, and made a really nice dinner,
and then we could..." "I fail to understand how any of that is a
punishment for your thoughtlessness, Ann." "Oh." "Nice try." "Thanks"
"When we married, Annie, I shouldn't have to remind you that we agreed
that these special punishments were going to be a part of our lives,
didn't we?" "Yes, dear." "And are you going back on your promise?" "No,
darling." "Then I would suggest you bend over my knee right now, young
lady, because you have a spanking coming!"
She moaned a little, and allowed him to help lift her out of the crouch
and forward across his strong thighs. He had taken the oval wooden
hairbrush from her clenched hand and put it on the table. "Are you really
angry, Phillip?" she asked. "Yes, kitten, I am really angry. These are
not going to be love taps. This is going to be a real spanking." He began
to slide her dress up the backs of her legs, slowly, letting her feel
herself being exposed. The half-slip got caught up with the dress, both
slipping easily along the smooth surface of her pantyhose. His breath
caught when he saw they were sheer to the waist, and she wore no panties.
"Is this any way to go to work?" he asked, his voice thick with arousal as
he let his hand rest on the plush curve of her bottom. He bunched the
dress and slip up above her waist, and rubbed his hand over her thighs and
bottom, feeling the heat through the sheer, silky hose. She simply sighed
in response, letting her bottom rise to his hand like a cat arches to a
gentle caress, parting her thighs in an effort to entice his touch.
*SPANK* "Minx!" he exclaimed, "don't think I don't know what you are
trying to do...and it won't work!" "*OW* But darling, oh, please..."
HIs hand rose, she could feel the air move with it, and she tensed.
"Relax your fanny, young lady, now..." She tried to breathe out and
relax, but his hand stung so much...SMACK SPANK SPANK CRACK SMACK!!!! His
hand splattered all over her plump bottom, peppering it with stinging
spanks before she could so much as wiggle. "NOOOOO!!!! Oh, honey
Pleeeeeease, it stings, it stings!!!" she cried, and twisted her hips
trying to escape the rain of slaps. He watched her buck, enjoying the
view immensely. Her head came up, her back flexed, she bounced her bottom
all over his lap. He got a tighter hold of her and began again. SPANK
SMACK SLAP SLAP SPANK SMACK!!!!! "OOOWWW YYEEOOWW!!! PHILLIP!!!! STOP!!
OW OW OW OW!!" She was beginning to cry in earnest. He stopped for a
moment, to pick up the hairbrush. "You've already worn out my hand, young
lady, and it's about time you remember what a punishment spanking really
feels like anyway! You're going to get the hairbrush on your bare bottom,
young lady!" "NO! oh NO, Phillip, please, I'll do anyting, but please
don't do that, you can't do that, please...darling, no, please don't bare
me, please..." Ann tried to grab for the waistband of her pantyhose, but
Phillip was there first, sliding his long fingers into the hose and
pulling them down so swiftly she didn't even have time to think about
lifting up to make it easier. They were around her knees, making kicking
difficult, making escape impossible. He hesitated for a moment again,
running his fingers over and over the hot pink mounds of her bottom,
trailing them down her crack, teasing at the tops of her thighs, tickling
as she tried again to open her legs, now held fast by the pantyhose.
"Ohhhh, honey, ooohhh..." she moaned as the sting from the handspanking
began to mellow into that singular heat between her thighs. "No. Time
for your paddling, Annie" he whispered.
He raised the hairbrush and began to lecture. "No more <SLAP> overdrafts,
young <SLAP> lady!" She jerked and howled the first time the brush
connected with her pink-tender flesh. "OH!! OH GOD!! OW!! OH Phillip,
please, no more, I'm SORRY OH!!" she bucked and twisted...the hose began
to make its way farther down her legs. <SMACK><SPANK><SLAP><SLAP>!!!
"YYYEEOOWWW!!!!" she screeched and went limp, sobbing and wiping her eyes,
chanting "I'm sorry, honey,I'm sorry, I've learned my lesson!!" as she
cried. The brush clattered onto the kitchen table and he ran his hands
all over her bottom and thighs, feeling the heat and the crinkle of her
burned skin. His hand slid down her legs, pulling the pantyhose all the
way off, unimpeded by the shoes, whch had long since been kicked away.
"Sshhhh, babygirl, all over now...ssshhhhhhh...I love you" he comforted
her, trying to hide his heavier breathing as her legs parted again and his
hand slid down the full arch of her bottom and into the valley between her
thighs. Her velvet pouch was slippery with her dew.
She moaned as his fingers stroked her pussylips gently from behind.
"How's my naughty wife?" he murmured. In answer, she rose and slid off
his lap, kneeling beside him, putting her arms around his neck and drawing
his face close to hers. "Wanting you, wanting you, lover" she whispered,
putting her lips close to his. He drew her to her feet and turned, laying
her back against the table, pushing her down and climbing up between her
thighs, sweeping the morning paper, the hairbrush, the salt & pepper, and
the napkin holder onto the floor with a crash. His right arm was beneath
her neck, pulling her up to him for kiss after kiss...his left hand worked
to free his straining sex. "Oh, Phillip, baby, please, uuunnn" she
moaned, running her hands down his body to touch him, stroke him, guide
him, "fuck your naughty wife, baby...oohhhh" He thrust into her with a
low growl, keeping one hand beneath one of her burning cheeks so he could
pull himself even deeper into her. She moved so well with him, opening her
mouth for his tongue, offering him an erect nipple when his lips went in
search of it, tipping her hips up and thrusting, crossing her legs high on
his back as she came, her cries strangled, her pussy molten and milking
him of his climax just as hers reached crescendo.
They dozed right there on the table, him curled protectively over her
softness like a handsome shell, while the evening breeze stripped the
sugar maple of its scarlet bounty.
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