Spanked Over A Stool
Monmouth is at it again:
“Look at your reflection in the window. This is what he sees.”
Arse raised high, I had arranged her so that the voyeur’s view would be in profile. Dolores was bent over in a tight curl, her wrists bound with soft white rope to the sturdy legs of the footstool on one side. Her ankles were cuffed together and attached to the third leg. This was not an entirely safe setup – the three legs of the stool lent an ambiguous stability to the arrangement.
With a long lingering look, I could see her thinking about it. What if someone was looking. What he would see.
I wondered if she would tip over if I hit her bottom too hard. With my hand pressing down on her lower back, I delivered a few exploratory swipes to her bottom.
Dolores wiggled, but she could feel just as well as I did how potentially precarious this pose was.
Arse raised high, I had arranged her so that the voyeur’s view would be in profile. Dolores was bent over in a tight curl, her wrists bound with soft white rope to the sturdy legs of the footstool on one side. Her ankles were cuffed together and attached to the third leg. This was not an entirely safe setup – the three legs of the stool lent an ambiguous stability to the arrangement.
With a long lingering look, I could see her thinking about it. What if someone was looking. What he would see.
I wondered if she would tip over if I hit her bottom too hard. With my hand pressing down on her lower back, I delivered a few exploratory swipes to her bottom.
Dolores wiggled, but she could feel just as well as I did how potentially precarious this pose was.
I hit her again, a series of rapid strikes, each harder than the last. A sequence of five – from delicate to brutal. First one buttock, then the other, alternating between them predictably, letting Dolores get a sense of the rhythm of the spanking.
And then a pause. Her red skin peeked out from under the black satiny fabric of her knickers. I slid two fingers down between her legs in an uncommitted, exploratory way – giving her just a little teasing fondle without the promise of any substantial stimulation.
Dolores groaned when I withdrew my hand, her bottom rising in pursuit of my fingertips.
“Would you like some more of that?”
“Yes. Please. That felt good…”
I brought the flat of my palm down on one buttock, sharp. “Well, that sucks.”
After a couple of rounds of spanking and fingering, I unzipped my trousers and stuck my cock unceremoniously into Dolores’ mouth. Her bottom had turned from bright pink to red flecked with purple. My hand on the back of her head to keep her stable – tied as she was to the footstool – I fucked her mouth with deep long strokes.
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