She had an intriguing and very fresh role-play idea and had come dressed for the part, wearing a classic school girl outfit. We sat in my home office, the premise being she was in trouble and due some old-fashioned corporal punishment. “Young lady, you know what the consequences are for skipping class are, right?” I scolded.
“Yeah, but you’re not gonna paddle me again,” she countered.
“And why do you think you’re getting off without a paddling?” I played along.
“Cuz last time you not only whipped my butt but you touched me inappropriately…sexually,” she replied. I grew hard thinking about it. She was right, last time we had played she was my naughty stepdaughter and I had given her a spanking that led to a fingering and ultimately to her giving me a blowjob. “You’re gonna accept a spanking from me or I’m gonna tell my mom and you’ll end up getting fired,” she threatened. “Want to keep your job?” I nodded my agreement to her terms.
“Stand over here,” she ordered pointing to her right side. She undid my pants and pulled out my belt. “Last time you stroked my ass with this and I think turn-about is fair play,” she noted, pulling down my pants and almost giggling at the sight of my erection. “Over my knee, mister,” she ordered and then began to spank. When my cheeks were well-warmed she paused and rummaged through her backpack that she had moved behind her chair.
“When I’m naughty, my mom uses her hairbrush on my backside. It hurts like the dickens and I brought it today cuz I think it’s exactly what you deserve,” she explained tapping the makeshift implement against my stinging cheeks. She resumed the spanking, but now with the additional weight and leverage of the wooden implement. Her hand was plenty painful but this was of another order. After less than a minute, I felt like I had backed onto a red-hot stove. Finally, she paused and rather softly touched my wounded bottom.
“A good dose of your own leather belt and I think you’ll have learned your lesson,” she announced. “Bend over your desk.” I complied and she doubled my belt, holding the free ends and then tapped it against my bare, throbbing cheeks. “Count these,” she ordered and gave me a hard stroke.
When I hollered, “Twelve!” she approached me and carefully touched the welts she had created.
“I think that should have taught you a lesson,” she admonished. “Now turn around.” I complied, my cock only partially stiff. “Jerk yourself off,” she ordered and I began to stroke myself, quickly growing fully hard. “Slowly,” she instructed, “I don’t want you to cum too quickly.” She dug around in her backpack again and retrieved a plastic cup and handed it to me, “Cum in this!” Soon I felt myself approaching apex and held the cup to catch an unexpectedly generous volume of ejaculate. She reached for the cup, looked at the contents, sniffed and then took a sip. “Tasty. You finish it.” I paused, surprised by her mandate. “Drink it now or I’ll get your paddle and really toast your ass,” she warned.