From the Top Shelf - My Dirtiest Fantasy

Today I have a special treat for you. This story was sent to my by longtime reader and new brunch participant Jeanie. Her writing is very eloquent and oh so hot! In fact, I must warn you that there are parts that are sexually explicit, but there's plenty of spanking too.

My Dirtiest Fantasy

My boyfriend had to travel over the Memorial Day weekend. I missed him terribly, so badly that I masturbated myself to sleep every night while he was away. Pleasuring myself is not something Kyle approves of me doing, so I made sure that I told him all about it when he phoned me Sunday night.

“What's more,” I continued, “I was reading some D/s blogs, and one was about which room in your house you usually get spanked in. So I wrote in, telling them all about how we do it in every room in the house!” Kyle hates for me to air our kinky laundry in public almost as much as detests the idea of me touching myself. “Anonymously, of course,” I added about my blogging.

“You're trying to earn yourself a memorable spanking, aren't you, little girl?”

“Yes, Sir!” I answered brightly. “Memorable for Memorial Day. I'm feeling absolutely insatiable, my love. How soon will you be home to address my needs, my love?”

“I can't get there any sooner than what I've already told you, not til Monday night, naughty girl.”

“I'll try to hold on, lover mine, but you know what the Bible says…? The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak...”

“Just know that when I get home, the first thing I'm gonna do is spank the holy hell out of your cute ass.”

“I'm counting on it, lover. Hurry home.” I hung up. Strong feelings of guilt didn't prevent me from pulling my panties to the side in order to diddle my hungry pussy as I simultaneously logged onto our computer with sticky fingers.

At six P.M. Monday evening I had several pizzas delivered and a nice red wine bottle opened. I knew that the wine could breathe and we like cold pizza almost as much as when it's hot. I was naked when Kyle walked through the door, and bent over deeply in the middle of the room, presenting him with the choice of fragrant food or flagrant kink. Kyle chose wisely. He wrapped his left arm around my waist and held me tight as he began spanking my proffered butt really hard. The cruel slaps flooded my system with endorphins in no time, the blistering still hurt, but I floated above it all, enjoying the agony.

“I misbehaved on purpose, lover. I really need this,” I was able to enunciate through the pain.

“I know,” my lover replied.

“I'm not sorry. Make me sorry...”

The spanking went on for an eternity. I have a big bottom, and my Top covered every square inch of its roundness with heat. He spanked the backs of my thighs. He spanked me up the crack of my ass and on my rosebud. Then he returned to give my cheeks a second dose. My lover took all the starch out of me; he disciplined me until I was limp, worn out. Being an expert Dom, he read me perfectly.

Picking me up and carrying me to the bedroom, Kyle asked, “Learned your lesson?”

I nodded.

He wiped the tears from my cheeks, then used both moistened hands to cup and caress my throbbing backside. Our eyes remained locked, saying more than words ever could. He kissed me. I opened to him. He pushed his erection into my receptive sex and we made love in the Missionary position with our eyes closed in exquisite synchronization. I climaxed, feeling warm and fuzzy and fulfilled. Kyle thrust into me with renewed vigor as he kneaded the sore flesh of my fanny. I gasped audibly, I saw red and felt energized by the stoking of the fire that still burned there. He fucked me hard and I came again. He'd pushed me up the sheer slopes to two plateaus, higher than I think I'd ever been taken before. I was panting and sweating, but not done yet. Our eyes met, he saw my wanton desire, I saw the steely resolve. I shivered, suddenly chilled and covered with goose bumps, ready to say that I was sated, but he didn't give me that chance.

Kyle took me by the ankles and flipped me over onto my tummy. His left arm encircled my big bum as he parted me and anointed my rectum with lubricant that we keep handy for just such circumstances. He spit on my little brown spot, then crawled over me. I felt his hard cock press onto my rosebud. For the hundredth time, I wanted to scream for him to stop, sure that his big thing would never fit up my tight dimple. But just like every other time he'd taken me there, I relaxed and felt him penetrate my butt. There is nothing so profoundly primal as feeling a hard cock possess you in your most private place. I sighed as I felt his short curlies tickle the crack of my ass. No sooner was he balls deep up my butt than he reversed and I had to remind myself all over again to relax. I have never felt so fucked as when I've been fucked there, and never more so than this time, when there was an edge to it, when I'd been bad and my man was set on punishing me. The ass fucking was an extension of the hard spanking, it was all simply scorching heat applied to my tender backside, outside or in. It melted me down to my submissive essence. It was a forge that purified me.

“Fuck my ass, lover!” I cried out.

He plunged back into my depths. It felt like he was splitting me in half right up my crack. It burned. I had the image invade my mind that he was a bulldozer plowing a path into my core. I ignited and was engulfed in flames by the intensity.

“Fuck me where it's dirty, where it's sinful! Make me your whore, your butt-fuck whore, fuck me…!”

He did. He ass-fucked me while I yelled profanities. He fucked me up the bum while I cried. He fucked me where it's forbidden until I'd shed all my tears and my voice was hoarse. I felt consumed by his rogering of me where it's shameful. I felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes of my used and abused butthole and buttocks, a new creation altogether. My hands sought out his, I entwined my fingers into his fists where he propped himself up.

“I'm gonna cum!” I whispered urgently. “When I do,” I said with renewed energy,” my anus is going to suck the cum out of you. Cum with me…!”

As hot as all this was, I wanted it to be even hotter. As should be clear by now, I like to live out my sexual proclivities. I'm a self-actualized submissive who revels in her orientation. But I have one cherished fantasy that makes whatever I'm doing all the better. My dirtiest fantasy is to do everything I do with my lover in broad daylight in full public view, Out.

So I started running a tape in my head, fantasizing that all we had done was for an audience. I ran through my favorite venues. Should I choose Disney World, the happiest place on earth? Maybe at some chic Parisian restaurant like Le Tour de Argent, where they believe the fork was first used as an eating utensil? No, I decided on one of my most cherished locales on this planet, the natural beauty of a beach where many patrons enjoy it in their natural state. I began fantasizing about going to Black's Beach in La Jolla. I envisioned Kyle pulling my bikini bottoms down to spank me as he had, loudly, unforgivingly, without mercy. We'd make heads turn! I fantasized about fucking in the sunshine and salty air, first sweetly and then sweatily. What are they doing, sunworshippers would ask? My fantasies caught up with us and I imagined taking it deep up the butt while beach-goers gawked. Oh, my God, our onlookers would reply, look at the passion they are displaying, look at the place where they're doing it! I wanted/needed to make it sexier still.

“Kyle,” I moaned softly, “I feel guilty... for enjoying my punishment so much... After we climax, I want you to whip me… I want you to cane my deserving butt… hard. Will you cane me… meaningfully... lover…?”

In our household, I get punished with a wide variety of implements and pervertables, but rarely with the cane. It'd been a long time since I'd felt its wicked bite. In our household, I AM hand spanked with great frequency for “topping from the bottom,” the sin I was just committing.
“If you need a caning, you'll get a caning, young lady,” he assured me without losing his rhythm.
“...Thank you, lover!...You're so good to me! ...Now fuck me like you mean it,” and I pushed back into him as he thrust and we fucked faster and hotter and we could feel the heat building, so I gripped his hands in mine all the tighter and gripped his cock in my velvet vice all the tighter and I exploded in orgasm. My anus spasmed, my sizable glutes flexed. I came, grinding my sex into the mattress imagining it was the sand and our audience was still voyeuring spellbound on the beach.

We cuddled. I crawled in close, my head on his collarbone, my legs pulled up tight, his hand reassuringly resting on my tush. I needed this time, as I slowly resurfaced from the depths of my sub space. He gave me time, petting my hair, caressing my bottom, kissing me on the forehead, the nose tip, my lips. Then his arms encircled me, held me tight as he kissed behind an ear and down my neck. Goosebumps again took flight across the entire expanse of my epidermis.
Kyle whispered, “You spoke of needing a caning...”

I wanted to say that it was just my passion mouthing-off, that it was intended to arouse him and nothing more. I was exhausted, empty.

But I had meant it. I had wilfully disobeyed my lover, blogged about private matters while pleasuring my privates flagrantly and repeatedly. I'd behaved badly, been a naughty, nasty little girl. What is more, I had really enjoyed the sinful-to-the-point-of-forbidden act of anal sex, had reveled in my enjoyment of it. Kyle knew all this, but there was something more. I had enjoyed my freedom over the weekend without my Top there to direct me. I felt that I needed to reassert my submission. All these things ran through my mind in a nanosecond.

“Yes. I did. I… I need for you to cane me. I'll let you decide how many stripes I deserve. But, please, make sure I'm well and truly punished...” And I got up from the bed and bent over its edge, thrusting my bottom out.

Kyle went to fetch the cane from the closet, a thin, whippy rod that I'd only felt twice before in my life, and never with full force. He stood behind my behind and tapped the summit of my cheeks menacingly.

“I need for you to mark me. I need to feel this punishment for days,” I said bravely, then immediately recanted and asked, “Can I touch myself while you punish me?”

Kyle laughed derisively. You want to pleasure yourself while being punished…?”

Tears filled my eyes. “I don't think I can get through it otherwise...”

“I'm going to give you three hard stripes. If you take them like the good girl I want you to be, I'll let you touch yourself for the next three. We'll see how six of the best look glowing from your backside and decide then if you need still more stripes. Sound workable?”

I nodded, pushed my butt out further. I felt the rod tap my tush, then disappear. I heard a fearful swish cut through the air, simultaneously felt and heard the dreaded thwack burn into me, heard me yelp loudly. I could not believe how much that thin line hurt, burned, blazed its way into my entire being. I wanted to stand and seize my cheeks with both hands and scream that this was enough!

Instead I blinked away the tears and bent over deeper and carefully enunciated, “Thank you, sir. That's one. May I please have another…?”

Kyle was impressed with that gesture, but it did not soften his resolve to give his sub a memorable thrashing.

It took more than twice the resolve for me to absorb the second lash and repeat my mantra, exponentially more to take the third. I discovered that a cane stripe hurts like a motherfucker when it slashes across one's ass, but burns even more as it throbs afterward, as if the very air fuels the fire that burns there. My knees nearly buckled as that third lick seared its way into my soul. Whimpers gurgled up out of me that I could not swallow. I did not ask permission, I just thrust both hands down to my loins. The fingers of one hand opened my sex's labia, the fingers of the other circled my clit and frigged myself viciously. I wasn't fantasizing now. I was a lonely little girl getting her butt whipped and I needed consolation. Pleasure rippled through my insides, just a little electric jolt, but it was enough. I stuck my bottom out at my lover and stopped frigging long enough so that the target would hold still.

Swish, Thwack, “Yeow!” And I masturbated like a crazed monkey until I got that jolt.

Swish, Thwack, “Fuck!” Over and over. I was crying like a baby, wounded like an animal, in the basement of my sub space, but slowly, ever so gradually, my old friends, a surge of endorphins washed over me. I thrust my striped butt back at Kyle proudly and took his next lash, over and over.

For his part, Kyle did not want to beat his lover this hard. But he saw that she needed it. Her body language kept proclaiming, “Thank you, sir; may I have another?” She presented her wounded ass resolutely like a request, and he answered that plea with pain.

After twelve vivid welts radiated from my backside, Kyle turned me from leaning over our bed, so that I stood alone.

“Bend over deeper,” he commanded.

I obeyed. I felt my ravaged buttocks part, knew that I was now completely exposed. The tap of the cane told me that the next one would not just stripe my cheeks, but would reach into the crack, would punish my well-used anus, too.

Swish. Thwack!

The pain was other-worldly. I crumpled, unable to present my bottom to my Master for any more from his rod. I was broken, and therein I felt healed.

He ended up giving me a baker's dozen, thirteen blazing stripes, perfectly parallel, a patch of raised welts from where my butt crack started down to the under-curve where my cheeks meet my thighs.

I did not sleep a wink that night. I'd lay down next to my man for a bit, then launch out of bed to look at my bruises and welts over my shoulder in a full length mirror and marvel. I especially enjoyed taking a painful pinch of each buttock and pull my bum apart to stare at the stripe that touched my ruby red butthole. The view in the mirror excited me, but I did not masturbate. For the only time in my adult life, I felt above the need for sex. I didn't need sleep at those moments, either. I wore a red badge of courage across my round rump. My boyfriend had taken me to the mountaintop, to the pinnacle experience for this sub. I was satisfied.

Jeanie would love to know what you thought of her story.