Spanksgiving: A Collection of Erotic Spanking Stories

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As ever, the "why" question can't be answered. And as ever, Emily and I talked it out and decided to explore the local spanking community together, hand in hand. We took our first step on an October night, when we parked on a quiet Austin street at dusk and headed towards the sound of clinking glasses and gentle laughter. When we entered the room, there was a large double bed for my parents, and a......I couldn't believe it! A white CRIB, covered with pink bunnies and of course, pink nursery printed sheets. I relate. As a man, though, it's a little different -- we're not supposed to hurt women, we're supposed to protect them. I've never hit a woman in my life, and abhor those who do, including those who emotionally abuse their partners. That's the essence of my shame, deepened by the impossibility of trying to explain it to someone who is not a spanko, someone who isn't wired to understand. As Keenan said: Please, sir. No,” Layla pleaded. “I really need this job. I promise I will be better. Please give me another chance.” If your mother says you have to, then you have to," he cut me off. "You know better than to try and use us against each other."

An intriguingly eclectic collection of short tales, which are all intertwined brilliantly to make this a compelling read. Join the women of the tales as they explore their filthiest desires. With tale “You deserve this, Miss Farrow,” Mr Larson said. “You have had this coming for a long time.” His conviction carried to her ears, and she smiled from her heart. Her small soft hand, firm in his grasp, he pointed at the signature of her naked curves imprinted on their soaring glass. «Beginning Mum took my hand to put me in position – and for the very first time, I had an extra thrill. Even though it was all in fun, Mum wasn’t smiling or laughing – she kept a straight face and mum actually put me across her knee as she might if I was a really naughty boy. A townhouse in London? His business is more successful than I thought. I should have exaggerated my tips even more. Layla hadn’t realised what she was getting herself into when she agreed to allow her boss to discipline her for her lateness. Little did she know she would awaken a need for domination and punishment. Nor did she expect to discover the thrill she felt when she allowed the fierce and intense Mr Larson to spank her.Part 1: Emma’s Bedtimes…:Oct 2020. A story about myself (3rd person) and a dynamic I was in at the time that lasted around 7 months.

Yes, sir.” She hung up, wondering why he sounded so stern, and made her way nervously to his office.Mr Larson,” she called. He stopped and turned. She lowered her head. “I did not mean to seem rude on Friday.” But you agreed. If you don’t respect yourself then why should I respect you?” he replied, fiercely. He was dressed in a designer suit, which no doubt cost a month’s salary. He looked very handsome, but did he really expect her to spend that kind of money on an outfit for one dinner? Yes, sir,” she replied. She stood anxiously for a moment before she awkwardly bent and lowered herself over his knees. She hung across his legs in a most undignified way and presented him with her bottom. She felt her face flush with embarrassment. Layla was thrilled to have left the bar job. She had hated it. She had hated how she never got a day off, she hated that she was always exhausted, and she hated that the penny-pinching Aaron took every error in her till—even when she confirmed she had added items by mistake and the money was right—from her wages. She felt no guilt in leaving Aaron down a member of staff, though she hoped it would not make life too difficult for her colleagues.