Jack’s day of teasing leads to a red-hot night of passion.

Spanking is an art form. That’s what I’ve always thought. Perhaps the same can be said of many activities, but as with any art form, there are spanking novices and spanking masters. Those who dabble, and those who live, eat and breathe their art. I belong to the second type, of course.

Not only do I appreciate the subtleties required when paddling my wife’s beautiful behind to bring forth a range of comely hues from pale pink to rosy red, I also get turned on by the instruments I use. Nothing makes my dick harder than to consider our collection of paddles, crops, quirts, floggers and belts. That is, nothing except actually delivering a spanking with one of those devices. I imagine a fine artist would feel excited when realizing a particular brush is perfectly suited to producing a desired effect. I feel the same way whenever I contemplate my tools and the potential uses I can find for them.

When I’m not actively engaged in spanking my hot-as-fuck wife, I’m fantasizing about an upcoming punishment session or mentally reliving one I’ve orchestrated. Yesterday, I was lost in the latter, practically working myself into a lather. I lay in bed staring at Stefanie, only having eyes for her ass, honestly. Because what an ass she has: heart-shaped half-moons, perfect for me to use as my canvas. That’s what I told her as she moved past me in a thong that left nothing to the imagination. She might as well have been entirely naked. Except, I did admire the way her ass was divided — bisected so neatly by the pink lace. Not framed exactly, but adorned appropriately.

Stefanie studiously ignored me. She was standing by the edge of the bed, staring into the closet, trying to choose her outfit for the day. At the moment, all she had on was that thong and a matching bra. Her thick, chestnut-brown hair was up in a loose ponytail, with a few tendrils slipping free in a messy, sexy style. There was a slight chill in the air, which made her rub her hands up and down her arms. She even hopped up and down a little in place to get her blood going. This got my blood going as well. Watching the bouncy parts of her body jiggle becomingly was extremely exciting.

I tried to coax her back to the bed with me for a quickie, but she shook me off.

“I’ve got an early morning meeting,” she said, more to the dress she was holding than to me.

“Pity you don’t have time for an early morning ass-warming,” I replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

That got her attention, exactly as I’d hoped it would. She looked over her shoulder at me, her ponytail swinging lazily but her brown eyes lit with interest. Kink always turns her on. Even a lustful threat — or a sinister promise — is enough to get her juices flowing.

She arched her back slightly, shoving her adorable ass in my direction. Was that a dare? I reached out and stroked her gorgeous hindquarters, letting my fingertips wander along the lovely lines of her sassy ass cheeks. I even pulled the waistband of her thong out slightly and let the elastic slap back into place.

“Ow!” she squealed, but she was overacting — and we both knew it. The snap of elastic was nothing compared to what my hand would feel like against her pert bottom.

All I wanted to do was pull her back into the tangle of sheets with me and deliver a stinging spanking she would think about all day long, whenever she sat down. But I held myself in check, even though my cock was tenting the sheets, because I didn’t want to rush.

Pleasure can simmer for a long time before hand actually meets skin. I know this from years of experience. So instead of spanking her right then, instead of sending her to work with a blistering bottom and a sopping-wet pussy, I said to Stefanie, “I’m going to spank that sweet tail of yours… after work.”

She looked at me with her big brown eyes lined with purple and her lips slicked with cherry-red gloss. She seemed suddenly unsure of herself, hesitant even as she pouted. Maybe she’d thought that playing the role of the brat would win her a few sexy smacks before she left for her day. If so, she was wrong. She stepped closer to the bed, and I shook my head. She pivoted back around and rubbed one palm over her right ass cheek. “You mustn’t be late, young lady,” I chided, and she gave herself a playful smack in response. It was hard enough to leave a pink print.

“You’ll feel my hand tonight,” I promised her. “I’ll have you bent over my lap with your bottom in the perfect position for a thorough swatting.”

“There’s time,” she insisted, gazing from me to the clock by the bed, seeming to calculate in her mind.

“I thought you said you had an early morning meeting.”

She bit her lip. She didn’t know what to say or do, clearly distracted by my promise of punishment. I leaned forward and began to describe my plans for that night in graphic detail.

“So you can see we really don’t have time for that now,” I added.

She nodded in concession, but she didn’t totally give in.

“Jack,” she whispered, “spank me now. Just a quick one. Just a little one.” She was pulling down her thong and backing toward me, offering up her gorgeous hindquarters.

“Come on. Don’t make me wait all day. You’ve got me so excited.”

And I intended to keep her that way all day long. I shook my head. “You’ve got to get to work,” I reminded her teasingly. “You have places to go. Things to see. People to… ”

“Spank me, Jack!”

I smiled at her. “Definitely. I will. Tonight.”

I knew my taunting would only excite her more. If I kept it up, I could guarantee her pussy would be soaked when I finally put her over my lap that evening. Maybe, I’d even be able to make her come from simply spanking her.

She was a wreck after that, completely unnerved by what I had said. It was a pleasure to watch. She dressed herself, but it took longer than usual. She tried on several outfits, shaking her head at each one. As she bustled about her morning tasks: pouring coffee, preparing her lunch, finding her phone and her keys, she kept shooting me doe-eyed looks. I could read her desires easily. All she wanted was a spanking.

Good. She’d get one. But not for hours.

The whole atmosphere in our apartment had changed. From the manic rush of Monday morning to the throbbing beat of a truly carnal connection.

When she kissed me good-bye, there was an added urgency to her lips on mine. After she left the house, she had to come back for a few things she’d forgotten. I’d managed to make what was going to happen in the evening more important than anything else in her world.

The truth is that thinking about spanking Stefanie took over the bandwidth of my brain, as well. Imagining her bottom taking on a berry glow made my dick intensely hard. The difference between the two of us — one of the differences, anyway — is that I savor the build-up while she always wants to charge forward into the main event. That’s what this day’s foreplay was for. That was why I’d dangled the concept in front of her before she even left the building.

Stefanie and I have engaged in spanking play since we first met. She wasn’t my first girlfriend who was into being punished, but she’s been the most vocal about it. That first time, six years ago, she and I had a little back and forth verbal play, and she said, taunting me, “Well, why don’t you just spank me.” So I did. Right away. I’d pulled her forward and placed her over my knee. Then I’d flipped up her little skirt and let my hand heat her bottom until she was kicking and squirming and promising to be good.

“Good” in this context meant giving me the most spectacular blowjob and then riding me reverse cowgirl so I could watch those hot buns of hers bounce in the most becoming manner.

“She gave herself a playful smack. It was hard enough to leave a pink print.”

Memories of spankings past kept me in a heated state all the way to work. When I got to my office, I had to text Stefanie. Perhaps she’d cooled down during her own commute. If so, I wanted to stir her up once more, making her stew in her juices all day until I could make what I’d promised in the morning not simply words but a reality.

I tapped out a text, telling her a paddle might be more appropriate than my hand, and sent it to her, and then I quieted myself. I’d let her imagination run with what I’d given her. Let her picture me taking her down the hall to the bedroom.

“Enjoy sitting today,” I wrote to her an hour later. “You’ll be squirming tonight.”

“I’m squirming now,” was the immediate reply. That was the spunky girl I know and love. “Squirming like you wouldn’t believe,” followed shortly thereafter. And not much later, I received: “Why didn’t you spank me this morning, Jack?”

I could have let her question hang there in the ether, but I was enjoying our conversation. “You’re the one who had an early meeting,” I wrote back teasingly. “I hope this hasn’t consumed your entire day.”

“It has. You win. Meet me for coffee? I have a break at two.”

I knew full well she didn’t want to meet for coffee. She wanted to coerce me into spanking her before I was ready.

“Naughty girl,” I texted back. “That just won you five extra.”

“Promises. Promises.”

It was entertaining to me that she seemed comfortable being flippant while at her office. I was pretty sure when we were face-to-face once more she would be contrite and polite. There would be no smart-assed behavior.

“Can you spare me 10 minutes?” she tried again.

Oh, I could. Ten minutes would give me plenty of time to heat her ass for her. Damn — she’d gotten into my head and turned the tables.

I couldn’t have that.

“Now that I really think of it,” I told her, “my hand and a paddle are most appropriate.”

She had no sassy comeback for that comment. At least not right away. Then — right when I’d thought I’d tamed her — I received a photo of her ass. What had she done? Gone to the restroom and taken an ass selfie? Apparently, so. I sent her back a picture of my palm. That did the trick, and I turned my attention back to work.

Late in the day, I wrote to her again. I’d been having a difficult time trying to focus myself, and I wanted to make sure she had a distraction as well. I told her I wanted to spank her gorgeous curves and then fuck her until she squealed with pleasure-tinged pain and sighed with pain-tinged pleasure. When I finished, it was finally time to leave.

Stefanie beat me home. When I arrived, she was seated in our living room with hands in her lap, looking as prim as could be. I could see from the pink circles on her cheekbones that she was as hot as I was. She didn’t say a word, though. She simply waited for me to issue the first command. I sat across from her on our loveseat for a moment. I wanted to hold on to the upper hand — make her wait for what she needed — make her breathless with desire.

I felt a wicked flare burn within me as I asked her how her day had been. There she was, trying to behave. She was desperate to show me with her posture and attitude that she was a good girl. That she would do whatever I desired. But when I pressed her, she cracked.

“You’re such a tease,” she said. There was an urgency to the way she was talking, like she couldn’t wait to have me pull down her panties and get right to it. “I couldn’t do a fucking thing!”

“Language,” I warned.

“No, really, Jack. Every time I calmed down, you’d text me again with something that made me want to run to the ladies’ room and rub one out.”

“Did you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. If she had climaxed without my permission, then her ass was in for a hotter night than I’d originally anticipated. I envisioned using my crop, or perhaps my belt.

“Of course not,” she snapped.

“Tone,” I warned.

She immediately looked down at the floor. Her flushed cheeks were positively on fire. She took a few breaths, as if she needed to steady herself before continuing. Then she met my eyes straight on and she said, “I was a wreck. You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you? I barely was coherent in the morning meeting. My boss actually asked me if I was feeling okay. And what could I possibly say to that? Oh, I’m fine, but when I get home, my husband is going to put me over his lap and give me the spanking I deserve?”

“That would’ve definitely won you a reaction,” I said, trying not to laugh at the situation. I wondered if her boss was the type of man who would think the idea was sexy.

“I wanted to spank her gorgeous curves and then fuck her until she squealed.”

Stefanie was trembling a little bit, which pleased me. I was convinced if I were to stroke between her pussy lips, my fingertips would be slippery with her juices. Breathing in deeply, I thought I could even smell the subtle aroma of her arousal. Weren’t we a perfect pair?

Only when I was the one ready to tear off my clothes did I stand and lead her to the bedroom. Punishment time. That’s what it was. After waiting all day — after my cock being hard for hours — the time had finally arrived.

I sat her on the edge of the bed while I got my favorite paddle from our toy box. It has a handle that fits my hand to perfection and a smooth, shiny business end. I sat next to my naughty wife and then helped her into the position I desired. I let the paddle smack her through her dress a first, just as a little wake-up call.

Stefanie moaned, and I could she was enjoying the slow burn of the first blow working its way through her aroused body. I spanked her again, and she sighed. Then I spanked her harder, and she groaned. These had been the beautiful noises I’d imagined throughout the day. She was definitely not holding back. So I didn’t either. I let the paddle fly through the air over and over. Stef pressed her pussy to my knee — hard. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to come while I spanked her!

Usually, I might have put a stop to that. But I am not a total sadist. If she wanted to come while I spanked her, I’d let her — this time. I pulled the hem of her dress to her waist, revealing her haunches and her frilly thong. She was making a wet spot on my knee, her juices soaking through her undies. I smacked her naked skin with the paddle. She yelped and pressed her pussy even harder against me. I dropped the paddle and used my hand, wanting to feel her skin warm beneath my palm. This was what I’d been dreaming of all day. It seemed Stefanie had been, too.

“Oh, yes,” she cried out. “Oh, yes, please.” She kicked one leg out, and that action provided me with the perfect opportunity to punish her pussy. I smacked her left cheek, and then I spanked her right cheek. She was breathing in great gasps, visibly on the verge of a world-class orgasm.

I started to let my fingertips spank her pussy directly. She cried out my name as she came. All of the day’s teasing had brought us to that delicious minute. Stefanie’s entire body was wracked with the power of her pleasure. She trembled and wriggled, and then fell completely off my lap and to the floor.

“Take off your thong,” I instructed. She obeyed me instantly, losing that hot-pink bit of fabric, but not before I could see with certainty how drenched she’d made it.

I got behind her immediately, adjusting her into a doggy-style position before undoing my belt and fly and freeing my erection. Stefanie was still making dove-like coos of pleasure as I impaled her with my dick. While I fucked her, I let my hands meet her ass in rhythmic bursts, continuing to punish her pink cheeks as I thrust inward in between each slap.

“Yes, Jack! Spank me and fuck me!”

I plunged my cock inside her, and she squeezed down on me. I smacked her ass, and she shouted my name. We went on like that until I felt my own climax building. Stefanie seemed to sense the state I was in. We were completely in sync.

“Touch my clit!” She begged me. I found her clit and pinched it as I pounded her, turning her words into wails of bliss. I couldn’t hold off much longer myself. She spiralled into her own second orgasm as I reached my first and filled her with my seed, painting her on the inside with volley after volley.

In my world, spanking is an art form.

Stefanie is, and forever will be, my muse. And I — I am a Master.

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