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Laura & George
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.
Subject: ARCHIVE: laura+george.Z
Laura simply stood in the middle of the room. She was wearing
a sexy new outfit she had just bought at the mall. She had been
sure then that George would let her bend his strict spending rules
once in a while. But he was furious.
"But..."
"But nothing. You know the rules. Now take that outfit off.
and fold it carefully! You're going to take it back when I'm
finished."
She did as she was told. She pulled the dress over her head,
folded it, and set it on the table. She was left wearing only
some skimpy panties and and her bra.
"Now come over here."
George motioned her over to a low-backed chair. Laura knew it
well. George had installed a leather cuff attached to a short rope
near each leg. Normally they were stowed attached to the bottom
of the chair. But not today. The chair was perfect for its alternate
purpose. If (or rather, when) Laura stood behind it and bent over, each
of her limbs would be near a leg of the char - within easy reach of
one of the cuffs. She knew what was next. But she hoped to avoid
her fate. She looked back at George.
"You know what to do. Stop dawdling!"
Indeed she did. George watched as she slowly reached down and
attached one leather cuff to each ankle, then bent over the
chair and attached her right wrist to the right front cuff.
Not an easy job to do with one hand, but she had had much
practice. George then walked over, grabbed her left wrist roughly
and attached it to the remaining cuff. Laura now had her rear
in a particularly inviting position, legs slightly apart. Her
breasts were by no means unavailable, however, since the front
of the chair was about where her chin was. She was quite
unable to move, and her only view was the floor in front of
the chair.
She heard George walking around behind the chair, then heard
herself yelp as the first blow struck unexpectedly on her
exposed posterior. George was using his bare hand. He let the
first blow sink in for a second, then struck again, and again,
and a third time in quick succession. Laura stifled a moan
and started squirming slightly in her bonds.
George paused at that point, grabbed the waistband of
Laura's panties, and lowered them down as far as he could.
Because the cuffs were holding her legs apart, the elastic
cut into her thighs. George struck again and watched the
handprint fade away.
"Are you sorry you bought those clothes?" George asked
and brought both hands down on her cheeks.
"Oh yes. Ouch!"
"Oh, I'm sure you WILL be."
Smack. Smack. Smack. George was establishing a rhythm
now. Laura tried to count them, but didn't get far before
her concentration was entirely centered elsewhere. After
a while he stopped. Her rear was glowing with warmth.
"Alright. Now that the preliminaries are over, we
start getting serious."
Laura just wimpered a little.
"You see this?"
It was a riding crop.
"Yes." Her voice was tentative and shaky.
"I want you to count each stroke from one to twelve.
If you miss one, I'll start over." To reinforce this,
he rared back and let one go with all his might.
"ONE!" she nearly screamed her answer.
"That's good." He said as he rubbed the crop against
her flaming rear. Then he let four in a row go in
little more than a second.
"TWO! THREE! FOUR!" The tears were flowing at this
point as the four new lines appeared and faded.
"You missed one! Start over!" Smack.
"One!"
He let go with two more.
"Two! Three!"
Her breathing was shallow and quick, and mixed in
with sobs. She heard herself count off the remaining
strokes almost automatically, lost in her punishment.
His task done, George stepped back to look at his handiwork.
He loved seeing his pretty wife's ass go from white to pink to red
and occasionally to crimson. It was certainly that now. A couple
of prominent welts were visible. George ran his hands over her
flanks to feel the heat. He reached over and undid the clasps
on the cuffs and let her stand.
And then the fun really began...
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