I was only doing set work on the college play because I was interested in Kyle.

(And okay, because I needed the credits.) I had an inkling about Kyle, something in his vibe that told me he might be tuned into my particular kinky frequency even if he didn’t already know it.

It was pretty clear he found me attractive. He was shy about it, though, so when I caught him ogling my tight butt or perky tits, he always blushed and hurried away.

The university production was about colonial America and Puritan morality. The main set was a town square. Kyle and I and a bevy of other wannabe carpenters had erected convincing building facades surrounding a central area where the action would take place.

Smack in the middle were the stocks. They were those wood frameworks you see in old movies, where a punished person had their head and hands locked into place, leaving them bent over, their butts sticking out behind them.

In the play, cast members were supposed to pelt the “wanton” woman in the stocks with paper vegetables and shout righteous condemnation at her, all while she pled uselessly for forbearance and forgiveness.

The night before the show opened, Kyle and I stayed late on the set. Supposedly we were doing some last-minute touch-ups, even though everything already looked good. It would be up to the actors to bring the play to life.

I figured he had volunteered to stay because he was finally going to make his move on me. I grinned privately. If I did this right, he would get more than he’d bargained for.

After daubing a little paint here and sanding a surface there, I wandered over to the stocks. We’d done an especially good job with this prop. They were solid and actually did lock. I laid my neck on the bottom half of the biggest hole, then set my wrists into the two smaller holes on either side.

“Hey, Kyle. Look. I’m a wanton woman!”

He laughed, but something sparkled in his eyes.

“Come and lock me in,” I said.

He hesitated but came. As he reached down for the upper half to swing it up over the top, I heard his breath catch. He locked the stocks in place. I was now bent at the waist and helpless, unable to reach anything with my pinned hands. My ass stuck straight out. I was wearing a skirt and no panties.

“Punish the wanton woman!” I cried out in a dramatic voice. Kyle laughed again, but his throat tremored. He called out a few other lines we’d picked up from watching rehearsals. But his eyes were fastened on me. We were alone in the theater.

Suddenly I yelled, “Spank the whore!” It wasn’t from the play. Nobody spanked the lead actress.

Kyle stopped. His jaw fell slowly open. I also saw the front of his jeans start to swell. I could almost hear the dime drop in his head. He liked me, but now he was seeing me in a different light, exciting in a way he’d probably never imagined would turn him on.

“I heard his gasp as he saw I was without panties. I felt the air on my exposed ass, tickling the moist folds of my pussy.”

I, on the other hand, was perfectly familiar with the joys of being restrained and being spanked. It was something I relished, but finding the right partner was difficult. Kyle seemed to have the proper mix of sensitivity and latent dominance.

Or maybe I was wrong about him. The moment balanced on a razor’s edge for several seconds. If this happened for him, it would be a turning point in his life. I wanted the experience to be a good one for him.

“Spank… you?” he whispered.

I looked up into his eyes, deadly serious. “Yes. Spank me, Kyle.”

He stared a full minute. Then with a dazed look on his face he moved around behind the stocks, out of my field of vision. I told him to draw up my skirt. He folded it onto my back. I heard his gasp as he saw I was without panties. I felt the air on my exposed ass, tickling the moist folds of my pussy.

I was about to call out further encouragement to him, but suddenly he let out a sharp grunt, there was a whistle of air, and his open palm met my right ass cheek with a crisp smack.

I bit my lip, not wanting to scare him with a healthy appreciative scream. My whole body jerked. The wooden stocks held my head and hands in firm place. It was that restraint which was the real kink for me, even more than the exquisite pain of Kyle’s blow. He’d walloped me nicely.

Unable to see him, I grew worried when he was silent for a moment. Was he going to freak out on me? Maybe he thought only “weirdos” got turned on by stuff like this. If it was within my power, I would disabuse him of that idiotic notion.

In the same theatrical voice I cried, “Yes! Spank her more!” It was like I was playing the part of the crowd that had come to watch me get my just punishment.

“As my ass cheeks each absorbed something like a dozen sharp, open-handed blows, a hot bliss broke loose inside.”

Kyle made a strangled noise behind me, then his hand struck my ass again. He hit my left cheek this time, which was good form. Alternating side to side distributed the pain better. I tried to move but couldn’t. The stocks held me deliciously in my place, helpless to the sadistic attentions of my rightful punisher.

He smacked me again, with barely a pause this time. I made more catcalls. When his stinging palm fell again, I switched voices, assuming the more immediate role. “Master!” I cried. “Please, mercy! Mercy, master!”

There was another perilous interval when I couldn’t see by his expression if I’d taken him too far too fast. But seconds later he resumed paddling me. After a few more luscious blows, he started truly taking on his own part in our little play.

“Take that, you tramp! Take that, you trollop!”

The hurt sent frigid tendrils of joy throughout me. But the bondage was what ignited the ultimate ecstasy in my body and soul. I’d been restrained lots of different ways before, but never in old-fashioned stocks. It was fantastic, even as I struggled to break free. The wood creaked and the metal parts rattled.

As my ass cheeks each absorbed something like a dozen sharp, open-handed blows, a hot bliss broke loose inside me. Suddenly I was trembling, then shuddering with every muscle. A powerful come ripped through me from the base of my backbone up to my scalp. The pleasure was intense, easily as potent as all the sweet pain I’d received tonight.

Behind me, Kyle made a surprised sound. In his own voice he asked hesitantly, “Jeez, Nora… did you just come?”

I grinned, even though he couldn’t see. I knew for sure he’d never made another woman climax in this fashion. I said, “Damn right. Now you should come too. Stick your hard cock in me, Kyle. Fuck me!”

I heard the rasp of his jeans’ zipper. His cock was indeed primed. He jammed his bloated cock head against my slick pussy entrance and shoved himself inside. I cried out with pleasure.

He stroked hard into me. The impacts lit up my smarting ass cheeks, which only made it better. He fucked me deep, tempo increasing. I hung there in the stocks, the happily punished woman, and I came as he filled my pussy with his hot spunk.

When he came around to unlock me, he looked different. He was different. He understood my kink. And now that kink was his, too.

We might just have to build a set of stocks for ourselves.