I’ve been promising you another story and ever since I did those two posts about ‘sexy versus discipline and how to do both’ I’ve been thinking about a story with the premise of using sex for punishment. I actually started this just after I wrote them but haven’t had time to finish until now. This will be in two-parts too.
I’m not going to lie, it happens to be one of my favorite fantasies. I find it hot, so it pops up in my stories from time to time. I believe, in my second book, Awakened with a Touch, there was a scene where John notices April is enjoying things a bit too much while he’s punishing her.
So, he decides to pause the punishment and force her to orgasm before he finishes punishing her. She quickly goes from ‘Oh my god, that was so good!’ To ‘Oh my god, what are you doing? That hurts so much!’ Which tends to happen when you get spanked hard after an orgasm.
It was a fun scene to write, let’s see if this one is as fun.
Story: A Week of Punishment (part one)
It was only Tuesday and she was a wreck.
She’d gotten herself into a lot of trouble over the past couple of weeks. More than the usual forgetting the occasional rule. There’d been something close to full-on rebellion and everything had dropped. It hadn’t been intentional or planned she was just feeling an extreme lack of motivation to behave.
He had creative ways of dealing with things like that, and after the first and second warning didn’t work he let her know exactly what was in store for her. She didn’t think he was serious at first. Lately life had been busy, and he hadn’t been taking the reins as much as he used to. She missed that, a lot, but had gotten used to doing as she pleased.
“Friday afternoon we’ll be taking care of these little lapses of yours. Don’t plan on doing much else because it will be a long session,” he informed her on Sunday over breakfast. There was a growl to the words, and it gave her butterflies inside.
“But—but that’s almost a week away,” she said, anxious and already squirming in her seat. There it was, that fluttery nervous feeling of panic she’d been craving, but part of her was still sure he wouldn’t actually follow through.
“Yeah, you’re not going to enjoy the week much either. Obviously, as hard as you’ve been pushing you need something more than just a spanking. You need a reset; so there will be daily assignments to get you in the right headspace for Friday. Oh, and no orgasms for you.” He added the last almost as an afterthought, but her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped in horror.
He knew what being in trouble did to her. He could probably guess, and would be right, that her panties were already growing damp between her thighs. Waiting for punishment was hard, but at least she could soothe her body with fantasies to get her engine revving, now she didn’t even have that?
“No sex? But we had a date night planned on Wednesday,” she protested. They normally had a fairly active sex life, but lately even that had slowed down thanks to his busy work schedule. On date nights it was a given that they’d end up tumbling into bed for a passionate romp, usually with some spice included. She’d been especially looking forward to this week for that reason and she’d ordered a few fun toys to try out, which had just arrived.
One eyebrow went up as he looked at her over the table in silence. She shifted nervously in her seat. “I said no orgasms for you. I didn’t say anything about no sex. I’m not the one being punished,” he said, pointing out the obvious fact with a smirk. The only one who got punished around here was her and sometimes that sucked.
She groaned and dropped her glance to her full plate. After that it was nearly impossible to eat, and she just pushed the food around until he left for work and then she dumped it in the trash. Using sex as a punishment wasn’t new for them. They’d experimented in many ways; orgasm denial was just one of them. She knew from experience that when he finally allowed it, her body would go into hyperdrive making it an incredible experience, but she also knew that waiting for it was going to be miserable.
By Tuesday she seemed overly aware of her body and her skin felt stretched and tight. Her nipples brushing against her shirt were overly sensitized and hard. She was in a nearly constant state of arousal, and the daily assignments (punishments really) hadn’t helped at all. She was pretty sure they were designed not to.
She’d just spent fifteen minutes naked, kneeling in the corner as she ‘contemplated the daily writing topic’. It would be more realistic to say she’d contemplated how much her knees hurt, how bored she was, and how she really wanted to touch herself. She was tempted…there wasn’t actually a rule that she couldn’t play with herself, just that she couldn’t orgasm. But she knew from experience it would only make things worse and if she should slip and stop too late—well, the consequences of that could be very unpleasant.
She went directly from the corner to her desk and sat her bare ass down on the bristly plastic welcome mat that was currently covering the seat of her chair. Her punishment mat—it’s only purpose was to make sitting uncomfortable, so she had to focus harder on writing the essay. The longer it took, the more her backside would start to feel like she’d already been spanked. It was a deviously creative addition he liked to slide in on occasion. Apparently, he was pulling out all the stops this week.
But maybe that was exactly what she needed. He’d been working a lot, and she’d been sliding on things. Blowing things off, procrastinating—those were frequent issues for her. The problem was that her self-esteem did a nosedive when she didn’t feel like she was doing her share. The more hours he worked the more guilt she felt that her part-time job allowed her a lot more freedom. She compensated for that by taking care of most of the house management, so when she failed at that her worth started to tank in her own eyes.
That should have motivated her to try harder, but somehow it never did and pretty quickly she ended up overwhelmed. With the extra work hours, their time together had been tight too, meaning she got away with things for longer than the norm, but now that was being sharply curtailed and a big part of her felt nothing but relief over being taken in hand.
The topic was easy enough today, basically just writing about her feelings and why she felt she’d been acting out so much lately, but the added distraction of the bristles digging into her flesh from the mat, and her arousal made it hard to concentrate. It was a good half hour before she could send it to his phone and that wasn’t the end. She had to wait, trying not to shift or wiggle, until he approved it. Then, and only then, could she get up to dress and move on with her day.
The ten minutes she waited was an eternity. Her rump felt tenderized and sore by the time he texted back an all-clear and she jumped to her feet to rub her sore cheeks immediately. The blunt plastic spines on the mat couldn’t actually hurt her but the little red indents all over her backside made her sore for a while afterwards, which was the point, of course. She felt like she’d just had a brisk spanking and it lasted for about as long too.
Wednesday was a bit more of a struggle. She could feel an attitude rising almost as soon as she’d woken up. The sexy dream she’d been having had started her off needy and desperate for pleasure, which was denied. She was irritable and snapped at him over breakfast when he reminded her that she was on restriction.
“You’re mean! This is unfair. I didn’t do anything that horrible and you’ve been punishing me for days,” she said. She hated the whiny tone of her voice, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t even believe what she was saying it was just out of frustration.
“I’m mean? Maybe you need a reminder of what mean is then,” he said, crooking a finger at her.
She got up slowly with a sinking feeling of dread and moved around the table to stand in front of him. “Petulance isn’t going to get you anywhere with me, kitten. The past few weeks have been full of broken rules. Rules that we made together for your health and safety, I’ll remind you. You need this week to remind you of why you submit. And you need what I’m going to do right now to remind you not to take out your temper on me,” he said.
He reached down and slapped her inner thigh sharply, “Spread.” When she reluctantly moved her legs apart his hand reached between them, fingers sliding easily between the soaked folds of her sex. He caressed her clit and it got an instant reaction from her body.
She moaned as he began to stroke and flick the hard nub, hips rolling as she bit down on her bottom lip. He brought her quickly to the edge. “Please… please I’m going to—” she stammered, desperately.
“No,” he said. “No, you’re not.” He plunged one finger inside of her while his thumb continued to play with her clit and she cried out, almost panicked.
“Please!” She was so close, almost there and then…. He stopped, pulled his hand free.
“Go sit down and eat your breakfast,” he said calmly.
When his finger slid from her it had almost pushed her over the edge, she was that close, that ready. Now she stood there, trembling as she stared at him and tried to catch her breath, but there was no mercy there. After a minute she went back to her chair, sitting down miserably without a word.
It wasn’t until he texted her at lunch that she even remembered it was date night.
(TBC—yes I know, cliffhangers. And please do remember that my blog posts are unedited so if you see typos I apologize, but it’s going to happen.)