Bottoms Up Read online

  BOTTOMS UP

  A collection of five spanking stories

  Edited by Miranda Forbes

  ISBN 9781908006516

  Copyright © Accent Press Ltd 2010

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

  These stories were originally published in Naughty Spanking Two

  Published by Accent Press Ltd

  ISBN 9781906125899

  Contents

  Bottoms Up Kristina Wright

  The Guardian Angel Carole Archer

  Rubious Marissa Moon

  The Confidante Roger Frank Selby

  Shopaholic Laurel Aspen

  Bottoms Up

  by Kristina Wright

  She wore the dress for him. It was not the kind of thing Shelly usually wore, this flimsy bit of pink fabric that clung to her silhouette. The hem hit her mid-thigh, but every time she sat down, it crept up, hugging the globes of her bottom as if framing them. She smiled at herself in the bathroom mirror. Oh yes, Ethan would certainly love this dress.

  Ethan was waiting for her in the lobby because she had wanted to make him wait. She also knew that if she let him up to her apartment, they would never go out. Not that she minded, but anticipation was everything with a dress like this.

  He turned at the ding of the elevator doors opening and she saw his slow appraisal and the way his eyes lingered on her breasts. Her nipples hardened as if he were stroking them with his fingers rather than simply his gaze.

  “Ready for dinner?” he asked, taking her arm.

  She nodded, though dinner was the last thing on her mind.

  It was a fourth date. The sex date. That was only her time frame, of course. The first date would have been the sex date if she’d allowed it. But no, she relished the excitement of looking forward to that event when all artifice and clothing was shed and she surrendered herself to him. Not that they hadn’t played around. She didn’t have that kind of will power. They had made out like teenagers the first date, standing in front of her building until she was sure they would be asked to stop by some prudish passer-by. Even when his hands had made their way up the back of her shirt and unhooked her bra, then around to the front where he pinched and squeezed her nipples, no one had said anything. She blushed thinking about the appraising smile the doorman had given her that night.

  Since then, Shelly had let Ethan get a little farther each time, had even slipped her hand inside his trousers on their third date and stroked his impressive erection until he groaned, but she still hadn’t invited him up to her place to consummate their mutual desire. Tonight would be different. Tonight she would go all the way.

  She was so preoccupied by her plans for the evening – plans she didn’t share with him – that Shelly barely tasted her dinner. Ethan stroked her bare thigh as they talked and the heat of his fingertips against her skin nearly drove her out of her mind. When the waiter asked if they wanted dessert, she quickly shook her head, but Ethan had other thoughts.

  “Of course. The lady loves chocolate,” he told the waiter, then ordered a rich chocolate torte for them to share.

  Shelly almost told him what she had planned for the evening. Almost. She bit her lip as he smiled at her, holding back as she reminded herself just how good it would be once they were together.

  Ethan fed her small bites of the chocolate torte as he nibbled on her neck. She squirmed in her seat, getting wet, her nipples poking against the fabric of the dress. The torte was delicious, rich and creamy, but she wanted something else for dessert.

  “I know what you’re up to,” he whispered, as she finished off the dessert.

  She sipped her wine, watching him. “Do you? What am I up to?”

  He didn’t answer. The waiter brought their bill and then they were on their way out of the restaurant, Ethan’s hand at the small of her back, guiding her politely. Out on the street, he was a complete gentleman. She furrowed her brow in frustration. The dress was meant to entice him, to make him want her and unable to keep his hands off her. She pressed against him, her breast grazing his forearm, but he seemed oblivious.

  Perhaps, she thought, she had waited too long. Maybe he had lost interest. She shook her head. It wasn’t possible. This dress was pure sex. There was no mistaking what she wanted tonight.

  They were at her building again, having barely spoken a word. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her firmly, his tongue teasing her mouth. Then he pulled away too soon, a distracted expression on his face.

  “Well, thank you for a lovely dinner,” he said. “Good night.”

  She couldn’t believe it. The fourth date and he wasn’t even going to try to go upstairs with her. “Wait!”

  He turned, looking bemused. “Yes?”

  Gesturing helplessly, Shelly said, “Wouldn’t you like to come up?”

  “Would you like me to?”

  She couldn’t tell what he wanted and hated that he was making her ask for what she wanted. “Yes, please.”

  “Certainly.” The doorman had been discreetly watching their exchange and held the door for them. Shelly stalked to the elevator, angry that her plan seemed to be going horribly wrong. Ethan caught her wrist as she pressed the button.

  “Let’s take the stairs,” he said.

  “Why?”

  Still holding her wrist, he guided her to the stairwell door. “Indulge me.” Shaking her head at his bizarre behavior, she let him pull her through the door. With a slight bow, he let her take the lead. She had taken only a couple of steps up the first flight of stairs when he slapped her bottom lightly. It was little more than a love tap and the sound was muted, but her yelp of surprise echoed off the concrete walls.

  She turned, looking down at him. “What was that for?” “I told you I knew what you were up to,” he said, the severity of his tone softened by his smile. “Playing the tease and deciding when you were going to have your way with me.”

  She blushed. It wasn’t as if she could argue. “Hmm. Well, the sooner we get upstairs, the sooner I can have my way with you – which I think we will both enjoy.”

  “I’m rather enjoying the view,” he said, giving her ass another smack. This one was harder than the last.

  She hesitated on the stair until she slapped her again, then she ran up several stairs to get away from his hand. “Stop that,” she said, though there was no heat in her words. “You’re distracting me.”

  He had caught up to her on the landing for the second floor and gave her another smack that was hard enough to make her whimper. Her bottom tingled, the thin fabric of her dress providing absolutely no cushioning from his spanking hand. She rubbed her tender flesh, frowning at him even as she felt the heat moving through her.

  “Here, let me,” he said, tugging the back of her dress up and baring her bottom. “Naughty girl, no underwear.” She giggled nervously. “I thought you would like that.”

  He put his arm around her waist and rubbed her exposed ass. She could feel his erection and rubbed against it like a cat in heat. His hands made circles on her rear, soothing the sensitive flesh. She whimpered softly, resting her head against his chest.

  Suddenly, he spun her around and gave her three hard spankings. “I do like it, very much,” he said, as she squealed softly.

  “You’re awful,” she said, scampering up the next flight of stairs and cursing the fact she lived on the fifth floor. “I’m not going to make it so easy for you.”

  He was behind her in a moment, his long legs able to take the stairs two at a time. He hooked his
arm around her waist and turning her away from him. In this way, she could feel his cock against her ass, the fabric of his trousers feeling rough against her skin.

  “I’d say you’re making it quite hard.”

  She knew what was coming and clung to the staircase railing, making no effort to get away. In fact, she pushed her bottom out toward him, silently urging him to spank her. She was wet now, as wet as she had ever been, and she felt her wetness trickling down between her bare thighs.

  “You want it?” he asked, nudging her ass with his erection.

  She nodded, tossing her hair back from her face.

  “Which? A spanking or my cock?”

  “Both,” she whispered.

  He released her and she held her breath, not sure which she would get. Then he was spanking her, hard and fast, reddening her ass as she whimpered and squirmed. The sounds of his hand against her bare skin echoed off the walls now, filling the stairwell with sound. It sounded obscene, her sounds of pleasure punctuated by sounds of a fierce spanking. The pain was secondary to the pleasure and she bent over farther, giving him every inch of her ass to punish.

  Spanking her ass and thighs, Ethan landed a particularly stinging stroke across her exposed pussy. The sound of the wet slap brought him upright.

  “You’re soaked!” he exclaimed, testing his assertion by spanking her again. “Wet and ready.”

  Her pussy was stinging from those too hard slaps, but that didn’t change her position. In fact, the sting only enflamed her. She moaned, pushing her ass out farther. “Again,” she demanded.

  He slapped her again, catching her across her swollen pussy. “Naughty, wet girl!”

  She only moaned.

  The rasp of his zipper sounded as loud as his smacks, though it was only because she had been waiting for it. There was no need for preliminaries – she was as wet and ready as he said – and he was inside her in one swift stroke. Buried inside her tender pussy, hardness inside her wetness.

  She moaned loudly, pressing back against him as he slid out. Empty now, she waited for him to push back inside her, but was rewarded with another stinging slap again. She yelped and jumped, nearly falling before he caught her against him and slid his cock back inside her.

  “So warm and wet,” he whispered against her ear as he fucked her.

  One, two, three strokes and he pulled out of her again. She clung to the railing, waiting for the slap and moaning as he spanked her once more, harder than before.

  “Tell me when,” he said, as he spanked her.

  He smacked her three more times, landing one hard slap across her pussy that also nipped her clit. She yelped, tears springing to her eyes.

  “Now,” she cried out and he was inside her before the word had stopped echoing in the stairwell.

  “Good girl,” he soothed, reaching around to knead her breasts. “Good, good girl.”

  She closed her eyes in sublime pleasure as he drove into her, fucking her until she cried out, on the verge of orgasm. Then he withdrew suddenly and began spanking her as hard as before, if not harder.

  “Tell me,” he demanded, putting the full force of his weight behind the slaps.

  She clamped her legs together, doing the best she could to protect her sensitive pussy as her ass took the full brunt of his spanking. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, intent on taking everything he had to offer. She savored the anticipation, knowing that when she told him she’d had enough he would fuck her again and she would come. That thought, the thought of his cock filling her, made her moan.

  “Tell me!”

  She knew that he was ready – ready to fill her and fuck her – and that made her hold back. Shaking her head, she pushed her ass out farther, egging him to spank her harder. Teasing him. He growled in frustration, spanking her with everything he had as she laughed and then whimpered.

  Finally, when her ass felt as if it were on fire and her pussy throbbed to be filled, she threw back her head and gasped, “Fuck me!”

  He gripped her hips and thrust deep inside her, holding her up as he fucked her hard and fast. It took no more than a few furious strokes and she was coming, her pussy tightening around his erection and driving him over the edge, as well. She panted like a wild thing, holding tight to the railing as she pushed back against him, taking his full length inside her quivering pussy and whimpering when he bumped against her tender ass. The combination of sensations, the fullness and the ache, spiralled through her and she moaned as her orgasm went on and on, stroke after stroke, until he was biting into her shoulder to quiet his own groan of release.

  He held her up, his cock slowly going soft inside her, as their sounds of passion quieted and their sweat-slick skin cooled. Nuzzling her neck, Ethan chuckled softly. “I hope you aren’t disappointed that your plan didn’t work out.” Feeling relaxed, but far from satiated, Shelly wiggled her ass against him. “Not at all. Just wait until I get you upstairs.”

  The Guardian Angel

  by Carole Archer

  Sarah sat at her kitchen table and poured herself a large glass of vodka, her third that night. She flicked through the photo album and tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked at photos of herself and Martin.

  They were together for over 10 years – married for almost nine of them – when he died in a car accident almost three months ago. This had been Sarah’s daily routine since the funeral, drinking vodka and looking at photos until sleep eventually overcame her.

  She turned the pages until she found the photos of the night they met. It was at a fetish party. As soon as he set eyes on her he asked if he could spank her. She agreed without hesitation.

  There was a definite spark between them and from this moment they were inseparable. They spent most of the evening in a private room, playing and also getting to know each other. They were both big players in the scene until now, but no-one else got close to them that night. Neither of them played with anyone else at that party – or ever again.

  They spent lots of time together in the months following the party and found they were compatible in every way possible, especially their spanking desires. Within months they were living together and were soon making wedding plans.

  Sarah had always loved being spanked, but she’d never gone in for the total domination that others seemed to crave. She didn’t want a 24/7 partner, she didn’t understand corner time or punishment spankings, but she soon found herself exploring all of these areas with Martin and discovered she loved it all.

  She trusted Martin more than she’d ever trusted anyone in her life, and she gave him her total submission, allowing him to try anything new. She discovered she loved the cane most – an implement she had always feared in the past.

  He fulfilled all her fantasies and would try anything she wanted. They had many an enjoyable play session with her wearing large split bloomers, pretending she was a badly behaved maid in Victorian times. They also explored the effect of ginger inserted into a naughty young lady’s bottom, and found this made her hornier than ever. They had a very enjoyable sex life, especially after she’d been spanked.

  She loved play spankings. She also discovered that, although not enjoyable at all, she needed punishment spankings. On the rare occasions she disappointed Martin or made him cross, she felt really bad. He’d given her so much and she hated to repay him with displays of bad behaviour.

  She was prone to sulking, especially when she didn’t get her own way, and she’d had some major tantrums over the years. Martin hated swearing and when she got in a particularly bad mood she’d swear at him deliberately. She always felt guilty afterwards and couldn’t wait for him to take her panties down and punish her.

  She hated the actual punishments, and she’d often cry before he even laid a hand on her, but she needed them. The relief she felt after a punishment spanking, as she lay in his arms and sobbed her heart out, had no comparison. Nothing eased her guilt so quickly and made her feel loved again. Not that Martin ever stopped loving her, but she did
n’t feel worthy of that love when she’d behaved badly.

  She still didn’t like the terms Dom and sub – she preferred to say that he was her Sir and she was his naughty girl or his spankee. They didn’t live solely for spanking, but it was a big part of their lives and they’d never been happier.

  Snapping back to the present, she wiped tears away from the album page then reached for her drink. Draining it quickly, she poured another.

  They’d been blissfully happy and she felt lost without him. Some days she didn’t see any point in carrying on. She was on long-term compassionate leave from work, but she had no intention of ever going back. She rarely even got dressed these days. She’d pushed away all of her friends and family and now she was totally alone.

  She poured another drink and realised she’d reached the bottom of the bottle. She silently cursed. The shops would be closed now. Maybe that was a good thing. She didn’t normally drink quite this much, but tonight she was feeling worse than usual, her grief almost as bad as the day she found out he was gone.

  She got up and walked to the cupboard. She knew she didn’t have another bottle, but maybe if she checked she might find something hidden away that she’d forgotten about. It was obvious she had no more alcohol but she still searched through the cupboards. What she did find was a bottle of paracetamol. She shook her head and put them down, closing the cupboard door.

  Covering her face with her hands she started to sob. She wanted to be with Martin so much, maybe this was the only way. She opened the cupboard and took the bottle of tablets, then walked back to the table.

  Taking the lid off the bottle, she poured them onto the table. She counted 30 tablets. That should be more than enough. Her tears dripped onto the table as she pushed the tablets around, counting them into groups of 10, then dividing them into groups of five.

  Counting five tablets into her hand, she was startled by a voice behind her. She turned and saw a man sat on her settee. She stood up quickly, dropping the tablets, and asked how he got there. She was absolutely terrified but he spoke softly and calmly and made her feel at ease.