Bogged down by a shoulder injury, it had been weeks since I’d been able to train properly for my upcoming race. As I lay in bed, I moaned to my man about my sorry state. I told Ted I felt so far behind and couldn’t understand how a screwy shoulder could mess me up so badly.

“You do realize you use your whole body to run,” the smarty-pants said. I shrugged as he added, “You need to get back out there.”

I groaned dismissively, but he was insistent.

“Yes, you do,” Ted told me.

“No,” I argued.

Then he startled me by shoving a hand under my back and flipping me onto my belly. “Ted! What the hell?”

But the protest died on my tongue because his hand landed on my ass hard enough to make me squeal. My flesh stung beneath my leggings. He swatted me again, and my body caught up with my brain. The heat in my ass, the surprise, the sudden pain, all worked together with my internal frustration and caused me to squirm.

I was suddenly wet between my legs. My face was wet, too. Was I crying?

Yes. Tears of frustration — not pain — flowed down my cheeks. When he flipped me back and saw my tear-streaked face, he said, “Get it out. Get those feelings out.”

He smacked my clothing-covered mound, and I shouted, even though the blow didn’t actually hurt. If anything, it augmented the thumping arousal pulsing between my thighs.

My horniness must’ve been written all over my face because Ted grinned, tugged down my leggings and pushed two fingers inside my pantyless pussy.

My breath hitched as he plundered my wet canal with his delving digits. He was exploring me, teasing me and making me want more. His thumb pressed against my clit, and I moaned with abandon.

“Turns out when you’re a brat and I call you on it, you get turned on,” he said jokingly.

I made a noncommittal sound of pleasure, and he quickly withdrew to haul me roughly over his lap.

“Are you going to start running again in earnest?” he asked authoritatively.

“I don’t know,” I said softly.

He laid a heavy hand on my ass and gave me several intense swats that made me buck and wriggle. I cried out as he delivered my punishment.

His hand soon turned tender. It was a soothing touch that shot straight to my center. My very wet center.

He rolled me onto my back and left me there while he stripped. His cock was hard and ready. He drove into me, fucking me roughly at first, but as I got closer to climaxing, he slowed his movements.

“Please,” I begged.

“Please what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“I need it the other way. Like you were doing a minute ago.”

“Faster?”

“Yes.”

“Rougher?”

“Yes!” I pleaded, the word sounding like a whine.

“So, will you be training tomorrow?”

“Yes!” I replied, almost sobbing from frustration.

Ted went back to it. He pinned my arms above my head, fucking me swiftly. He was eager and rough, and I loved it.

I soon came with a loud shout, and he flipped me onto my belly. He slid into me from behind and pounded me ferociously. My body was pinned to the mattress by his much larger frame.

He shot off with a gruff growl, pumping my pussy full of cream, and then he rolled off me.

In the morning, my bottom was covered with faint marks left over from his spanking. I looked over my shoulder to see my reflection in a mirror. I pressed the erotic remnants with my fingers, relishing my memories. Our kinky encounter had triggered some intense sex. I kept tracing the marks and easily recalled him touching me, making me come and using me for his own pleasure.

I geared myself up for a run, telling myself there was no pressure. I’d keep it simple and log a few miles. When my resolve faltered, I caressed my rear and remembered my promise to Ted.

“All right,” I said out loud. “Let’s go.”

I kept my focus on my posture for most of the run. My physical therapist had given me very specific instructions on how I should hold my upper body and move my arm to minimize the impact on my shoulder. I did my best to follow her advice.

But the need to get that run in — my longest in recent weeks — overwhelmed me. I found my form failing, which had disastrous consequences.

Halfway through the run, I stopped running to get my focus. The ache in my shoulder was starting to bother me.

I pushed a finger to my ass cheek and reawakened the ghost of Ted’s punishment. I felt a tender flex of discomfort and told myself, “Get your shit together.”

Managing the final leg of the run wasn’t easy. When I got home, frustration had taken hold of me. I was angry, but I was also sad. And the sadness was harder to shake.

Ted walked in, found me and asked, “Bad run?”

“Not bad. Just…challenging.”

“Challenging is OK,” he said, gently moving my shoulder and checking to see how bad it was.

“I hate challenging,” I pouted.

“You want everything to be easy,” he said. “Go on. Do what you need to do.”

I grabbed an ice pack for my shoulder and took some pain reliever. When the icing was done, I took a hot shower.

As I was coming out of the bathroom, he caught me by my good wrist. “Let’s go. You need to get your head on straight.”

A flash of fear in my belly was followed by a warm curl of excitement

“Sit,” he said, pointing toward the bed.

I obeyed.

“Now, we don’t want to worsen the shoulder, so you’re going to keep your hands clasped together in front of you — instead of being bound to the bed.”

Bound. The word itself made a tendril of arousal unfurl inside me. My joined hands rested in my still damp lap.

“Lie back,” he said.

I reclined, spreading my legs and leaving my gently clasped hands at my waist.

The shower had helped clear my head a little. But when he pulled out a yardstick, my attention became laser-focused.

“You’ve been running since high school. What’s the thing your coach — any coach — has told you about the struggle?”

I robotically answered, “Not to get in my head.”

“Exactly,” Ted said with a nod. He raised the yardstick, and I stared at him open-mouthed. “Now, let’s get you out of your head.”

I almost argued out of reflex, but I couldn’t bring myself to because I wanted to get out of my head — and wanted his punishment.

“Keep those hands folded right over your belly button,” he instructed.

The first rap between my legs was gentle. A tease. Something that almost made me laugh and think: That? That’s what I was worried about?

The second sealed his intention. It wasn’t hard enough to be damaging, but it definitely wasn’t soft. It was a “pay attention” slap — a sudden, sharp sting that faded into a tingling warmth.

The yardstick came down on my pussy again, and my body bucked. I managed to keep my hands together, but it took serious effort.

Ted let his fingers drift over my spanked skin. He stroked my flesh, which was tingling with shock, yet I could still feel his oddly gentle touch. His fingers slipped between my cunt lips, found my flowing wetness and gave my clit a teasing stroke.

“Not too terrible, is it?” he asked.

My responding whimper somehow still sounded defiant.

“Get out of your head,” he ordered.

Whap! The wood once again kissed my crotch, and I cried out. Between my thighs, my pussy was pounding like a drum. My cunt was plump and super sensitive.

“Out.” Whap! “Of.” Whap! “Your.” Whap! “Head!” Whap!

None of the swats were hard enough to actually hurt me, but the shocking sounds and the intense sensations fueled the hot, wet need between my legs. I was nearly sobbing with desperation.

Ted dropped the yardstick and helped me sit up on the edge of the bed. His fingers fumbled briefly with the button and zipper on his pants, and then he pushed his hard cock between my lips.

I sucked him with lustful appreciation, working him as he eagerly thrust into my willing mouth. I was buzzy-headed with extreme arousal when he finally pushed me back onto the bed. My legs were splayed as he covered my crotch with soothing kisses. His tongue briefly slid along my outer lips and then zeroed in on my clitoris. He licked. He sucked. But when I started to writhe, he stopped.

Ted climbed between my thighs and slid his cock deep inside me. He rocked his hips, grinding against my clit as we fucked, triggering waves of pleasure within me.

Ted’s hands slid beneath my ass and cupped my cheeks. He clutched my rear as he pumped into me. His breath was hot on my neck, and he bit me none too gently.

I came quickly with a warm shiver rattling my body. The sexy spasms of my pussy milked his cock, pushing him closer to release.

“That’s right,” he hissed. “Let go. Be in the moment. You need to try not to control every damn thing.”

Ted pulled free of me and gently rolled me onto my belly with my arms pinned beneath me. He paused to ask if my shoulder was OK. It was, so he grabbed my hips and slid into my snatch from behind.

Him fucking me while I was pinned beneath his bulk sparked new waves of arousal. My pussy grew tight as it geared up for another explosive climax.

My man was panting, and he nipped one of my ears. I groaned, and he fucked me faster as he urged me to let go and succumb to another orgasm before he surrendered to his own pleasure. I felt his body grow taut and the rush of his hot come letting loose inside me just as I reached my second peak. It was smaller than the first but just as sweet.

While I learned my lesson, I told Ted he might need to refresh my memory from time to time. My amused man assured me he would happily do so.