From davewl@indy.net Mon Mar 17 09:59:49 1997 Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-pull.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.indy.net!not-for-mail From: davewl <davewl@indy.net> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Stripped In Public, Part II, Dave Wallaced Date: 17 Mar 1997 14:59:49 GMT Organization: IndyNet - Indys Internet Gateway (info@indy.net) Lines: 345 Message-ID: <5gjm95$4u0$2@news.indy.net> NNTP-Posting-Host: ip75-118.ts.indy.net Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Mailer: Mozilla 1.22 (Windows; I; 32bit) If you are under eighteen (18) years of age, you shouldn’t be at this web site, let alone reading this naughty story. This story is intended for the reading enjoyment of adults only - hence, if you are not an adult, do not read this story! If you are accessing this site from a geographical location that proscribes the receipt, electronically or otherwise, of such adult materials, then, please, do not proceed any further. Finally, if you are offended or even disinterested in adult (e.g., erotic, prurient, sexual) writing, (again, confusing, given that you are at this www location and viewing this ‘disclaimer’), then you should exit, escape, leave, cease and desist - go somewhere else. Otherwise, I hope that the following entertainment will bring you enjoyment. Stripped In Public - II (A Short Story by Dave Wallace) II I gave Karen perhaps ten minutes before I went to the bathroom to check up on her. As I approached the bathroom, I could hear the sound of the shower and assumed that she must have finished her shaving. I was looking forward to her new look and decided to join her in the shower. Detouring to my bedroom on the way, I set my drink on the nightstand and removed my jeans and athletic tee-shirt. I rarely wear underwear and this time was no exception, making my undressing a quick task. I paused for a moment, looking in the full-length mirror affixed to my closet door. As always, I was pleased by my nude body. Unlike Karen, I was accustomed to keeping my pubes shaved bare and it gave me a special thrill to see my smooth lips pouting from between my firm thighs. My breasts were petite and projected straight out from my chest. Weighing in at 115, my small body was without extra fat. I kept myself in shape by nightly calisthenics at home and by watching what I ate. As much as I enjoyed sex, I wanted to keep my body as appealing as possible in order to attract the caliber of men - and women - that I desired. With brown hair and eyes, I tanned easily and took advantage of this, visiting a tanning salon twice weekly to maintain an overall brown color with no tan marks to interrupt my skin color. Lovers had told me that I reminded them of an island girl (whatever that is) with my trim, athletic, brown-all-over body. As I approached the bathroom, with the sound of the shower still evident, I was struck by Karen’s acquiescence thusfar. I knew with a certainty that we would come upon an order or instruction that she’d be unable to rationalize with only the threat of her husband’s prosecution and her agreement to obey. I looked forward to that moment, picturing how her sweet bottom would react to a wooden paddle’s sting. I knew, even that, would elicit a sexual response on her part. Most people would question or argue that premise but, after very much experimentation, I’d learned that the human body has its own set of rules and standards. Even if one doesn’t consider oneself the slightest bit masochistic, one’s body will still betray itself with its neurological response to moderate stinging applied to the buttocks. I knew that Karen’s pussy would moisten as the paddle’ sting warmed her behind. I knew that my underscoring of that fact would embarrass her. I knew that such debasement would jade her and cause her to need my dominance well after the 24-hour agreed-upon period of servitude. But, again, I get ahead of myself. Pulling back the shower curtain so that I could see and be seen, I was immediately struck with Karen’s new look. Her pussy was now totally bare and she stood before me proudly, displaying its nudity for my enjoyment. Her face had a certain impish countenance, as if she was enjoying her ‘burden’. Not waiting for me to comment, she hastened to ask, "Well, ma’am, do you like it?". "Very much so, Karen. Step back, I’m going to join you." I’d noticed, as I was surveying Karen’s body, that her eyes had quickly snuck a glance at my own pubes and thought that I detected approval at her discovery that I too was shorn. Entering the shower enclosure, I passed Karen a bar of soap with the instruction, "Wash me all over, Karen. Don’t you dare miss a spot. You may start with my breasts." Although small, compared to Karen’s, my breasts have always been super-sensitive. I loved to have them laved with a bar of soap, a lover’s tongue, or simply stroked by a hand - or other body part. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of Karen’s servile hands as she began obeying my last dictate. Her touch was soft and gentle as she worked up a suds with the soap, slicking over my breasts, first grasping them with both hands around their circumference and then allowing her fingers to squeeze to the nipples, which she was lightly squeezing before beginning the stroke anew. My nipples’ hardness revealed my obvious pleasure as Karen soaped by shoulders, quickly dropping down to my belly and hips. I could feel a pressure on my hips as she bade me to turn to allow her access to my back and I went along with her plan. It seemed that she was leaving my pussy for later and I didn’t have a particular problem with that. Karen’s soapy hands continued their task as they sudsed my neck, traversed my shoulders and knelt behind me to wash my buttocks. I wished that I could see her face to check out her expression because her touch to my buttocks, first washing their breadth before delving into my crack, gently trailing her fingertips over my anus, continuing on to my upper thighs, only to dip between my legs and give my crotch a light, teasing stroke, seemed inspired. It was difficult, in a way, to imagine that she’d never performed this ritual for another woman but, I’d learned in the past that people are able to project how they’d wish to be bathed, or whatever, and then incorporate that desire into their actions. Evidently deciding that my butt was clean enough, her hands went to my legs washing them from top to bottom, picking up each of my feet to thoroughly wash them. Still kneeling, Karen applied pressure to my hips again, turning me to face her. I opened my eyes momentarily and saw Karen’s almost reverential look on her face, contemplating my bare pussy, now at her eye-level. I closed my eyes again and felt her tentative touch as she began concentrating on my pussy and the ‘taint’ surrounding it. Just as I was wondering if she’d allow her fingers to intrude past my labia, I felt them insinuate their softness into me. With the knowledge of another woman, her hands gently stroked my clitoris causing me to quickly approach orgasm. Deciding to allow her the pleasure of my pleasure, I didn’t hold back, but pushed against her delightful hands with an encouraging pressure. Karen, bless her heart, didn’t let up on her massaging of my genitals, but continued the slow, rhythmic motions, quickly bringing me to my crisis. Suddenly squeezing my legs together and trapping her hands between them, I signaled my orgasm to Karen, who continued a gentle squeeze with two fingers within me and her thumb opposing their pressure from the outside. Stepping away from her to rinse off under the shower head, I commanded, "Stay the way that you are, kneeling." I could discern the question in her eyes as she simply replied with, "Yes, ma’am.", but I figured she knew what was coming. Quickly rinsed, I stepped back to where I’d been and ordered, "Lick me now, Karen. Kiss my pussy with your mouth and tongue between the lips. Suck my clitoris and give me another orgasm." "I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t." Oh boy! We were there already. "You mean, you won’t. Get out of the shower, now and go to the bedroom." "Yes, ma’am." As I stepped out of the enclosure and saw Karen reaching for a bath towel, I corrected her. "No, don’t bother drying off. I want your skin to be wet. Go to the bedroom, now." "Yes, ma’am." I wondered if she suspected what was in store for her, grabbing a towel from the rack, patting my skin as I followed behind her nude figure, down the hall and into my bedroom. Having left a wooden paddle laying atop the bed earlier, I knew that Karen would see it when we entered the room. Always choices, that’s always been my philosophy. "Once again, Karen, I want you to lick my pussy. You may either do so without any further fuss or be paddled. Actually, if the truth be known, I hope that you’ll resist. I’d like to see how your cute ass will look after I’ve lit it up with my paddle. "At any rate, if you’re not ready to kneel before me and get me off, then lean over the bed and place your palms flat on top of it." Since Karen continued to signal her defiance by bending over the bed and positioning her hands as I’d instructed, I continued. "Now, spread your legs, with your feet three feet apart. Lift up on your tiptoes and dip your back. That is, press your belly forward and cant your hips back and up. "That’s called ‘presenting’, Karen, and in the future, when I tell you to ‘present’, you’ll know what to do. Do you understand, Karen?" "Yes, ma’am." I’d picked up the paddle and stepped behind Karen’s delicious form as she’d answered me. "I’m going to give you two sets of twenty swats, Karen. First, I’ll give you twenty to demonstrate how the paddle works. I want you to know forever more, what it feels like to be paddled. "Then, I’ll give you the twenty that you’ve earned by your disobedience. This will demonstrate to you how you will be punished each and every time that your disobey. Do you, understand, Karen?" "Yes, ma’am." I knew that she was trying to be brave and had no idea just how much the paddle would sting. Having a fair amount of experience in wielding it upon both men’s and women’s bottoms, I knew that she would have tears running down her face well before I’d finished the first set of twenty. "Get ready, Karen. I’m going to start your paddling now. I want you to thank me for each stroke, asking me for the next, and counting the stroke. You’ll do this by saying, for example, "One. Thank you, ma’am. Another, please? "Do you understand, Karen?" "Yes, ma’am" If you drop down off of your tiptoes, or if you remove either one of your hands from the bed, or if you break position in any way, that stroke won’t count and you’ll earn another penalty stroke. In other words, that stroke will be replaced by two, additional strokes. Do you understand me, Karen?" "Yes, ma’am." "Smack." A moderate stroke. "One. Thank you, ma’am. Another, please?" This girl learned quickly! "Splat!." "Oh, ma’am, it hurts. Two. Thank you, ma’am. Another, please?" Three, four, five, and six, each with Karen’s increasingly sorrowful response, counting, thanking, and asking for another. I could see her teetering on her toes and decided to step up the pace. Numbers seven, eight, nine, and ten, were delivered to the sulcus, the sensitive area of skin at the top of the thighs’ rear, immediately below the curve of the buttock. Numbers eleven, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen, to the backs of the thighs, and the following four, to the thighs’ sensitive, inner surfaces. The last two of the first set were delivered at the center of Karen’s bottom, stinging both buttocks and their dividing crack, hardest probably of all twenty strokes. To give credit where credit was due, Karen didn’t once break position. She even remained in position, even after the final swat, albeit with tears pouring from her eyes, legs quivering, buttocks spasming, her sobbing not totally dissimilar from that of a small child. Setting the paddle on the bed beside her, I began lightly stroking Karen’s enflamed buttocks, one of my hands stealing between her spread thighs, finding, with no surprise, a sopping wet pussy. "I guess that at least one part of you must have enjoyed the paddling? Answer me." "I guess so, ma’am." "If you liked the first twenty, you’ll scream for the next, Karen. Are you looking forward to the second round, honey?" "No, ma’am. Ma’am?" Knowing what she was going to say but pretending ignorance. "What, Karen?" "Must you paddle me some more. Would you let me do what you want, instead?" Disingenuously, "What’s that, Karen? Be specific." Obviously embarrassed, "Lick you, ma’am." "You mean that you’d like to lick my pussy, Karen?" "Yes, ma’am." "Well, in that case, I’ll allow you to do so after I’ve finished your paddling. That is, after you’ve felt the paddle’s sting on your sweet ass another twenty times. You see, Karen, that’s the point of the paddle. You can either obey and avoid its bite or you can get paddled and then obey. "Either way, I win. Either way, you’ll obey. Either way. But, if you choose to try my patience, you’ll pay the price. At least, your bottom will. Let’s get this over with now, Karen." I knew that the next several minutes would change Karen forever. I knew that, after tonight, she would belong to me. I knew that a bonding experience would occur in the next several moments that was like super-glue to her sexual identity. Knowing this simply added to my delight as I picked up the paddle to complete this first phase of her training. Your comments are solicited and appreciated. Dave Wallace Indianapolis, Indiana