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I admit it. John Brownstone and I are really silly sometimes.
A few days ago, he bit my neck so hard that my brain couldn’t keep up with my body. My head screamed, “This hurts. Goddamn this hurts so fucking bad.”
At the same time, my body melted. Lava poured through my bones. My cunt clenched. My knees buckled.
With the disconnect between body and mind, I didn’t know what to do. So I smacked his shoulder over and over again. It wasn’t a safe word, and I think I was screeching, “Daddeeeeeeee!” so clearly I was capable of speech.
Later, he laughed and reminded me that tapping out isn’t an option.
For us, it’s quite funny. When something is a little too much, but I don’t want him to stop, I slam my hand down on whatever is available. He laughs, a delightfully evil sound, I whine a little, and we keep going.
The other night he bent me over the bed, after promising hours earlier I’d get a much deserved (and well earned, in a good, kinky way) spanking. I was practically quivering with anticipation. Like the babygirl I am, I bounced and wiggled.
“Hit me! Hit me!” was followed by “Are ya gonna spank me yet, Daddy?”
There’s a fine line between begging in a cute, kinky way and being a demanding brat. I was going for the former rather than the latter. Only John Brownstone could decide whether I succeeded or not.
I howled in surprise and pain.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
The first shot was the warning, but he soon fell into an easy rhythm. I sank into the bed. The pain washed over my skin and soul. Yesssss, I could do this all night.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” My torso came up off the bed.
“Just checking to see if you’re awake, babygirl.”
Don’t pout. Don’t pout. “Yes, Daddy.”
“You sure about that?”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I howled in pain again. “I thought you loved me, Daddy!”
“I do, babygirl. And I love this wiggly, jiggly ass.” He punctuated each word with the palm of his hand on my bottom. His strikes were less intense.
He rubbed my butt, pressing his fingers into the most abused parts of my flesh. I felt him lean away. What the…? Watch your tone! “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” How does the devil always manage to sound so damn innocent?
I twisted around. I knew what was coming but my eyes wanted to see it to really believe it. He caught me by the waist, pinning me in place. The weight of his arm melted my bones and my resistance. He leaned against me, his weight a comfort. Even if I wanted to, I wasn’t moving from this position.
Then I felt it.
Blazing fire as a single thin piece of material landed across my ass. Spots bloomed behind my eyelids. I cried out. The bastard cane. The ultimate in ass destruction.
He tap-tap-tapped. I wiggled and twisted. He changed the intensity and I settled down. This might not be so bad. He lulled me into submission with a back-and-forth tap-tap-tap. Yes, this feels quite good. More please.
I screeched in pain. How does he always know?!
Fuck, no more! My hand slammed down on the bed over and over again.
“That’s it. I’m done. I’m tapping out. No more! No more!”
I thought I’d crossed a line. Been too demanding. Was he upset? Would he decide that didn’t count as a real “cease and desist?”
He laughed. A throw-back-your-head guffaw.
“I thought we agreed tapping out doesn’t count, babygirl.”
“When you’re using the cane, everything counts!” My hand continued to pound the bed. “I’m done! No more!”
Even though we were both laughing, I meant it.
He soothed my nerves and my burning skin with the palm of his hand. His voice gentled. “Ok, babygirl. It’s over. We’re done.”
He curled his body around mine, laying his head against my shoulder. I sighed, both grateful the caning was over and that he was close and warm.
“But I still don’t think tapping out counts.”
This time, it was my turn to throw back my head and laugh..
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! For the record, tapping out could count if we decided it did. It could be a safe gesture (in place of a safe word) but we’d rather let it be a little joke between us. As you can tell, he knows when I’m truly at my limit. Anyway, enough lecturing. Go check out the other good smut being shared on this, the best of all days.
I needed to give you that spanking as much as you needed to get one. The best part though was we both needed a good laugh as well. Made for a great end to a crazy couple of days.
If I were you “Babygirl”, I’d ‘tap out’ that fucker after a brain rattling bite on the neck. And I don’t mean a ‘safe gesture’. 🙂