A spanking story

When I finally 'came out' as a woman who wanted to be spanked, I had an insatiable appetite for spanking stories. Eventually, I ran out of spanking stories on the Internet that I enjoyed. I suppose there are many spanking stories in print, but I decided that I'd like to try writing some of my own. Actually, that sounds like it was a choice I made. Really, the stories wrote themselves. I loved the process of writing them and nothing and no-one could have stopped them.

Early on, much of what I read on the Internet was quite scary to me. I was reading many things for the first time and I was not entirely sure what to make of it all. One of the blogs I read at the time was 'The Spanking Writers'. Abel and Haron seemed so sweet, and although it was completely clear that Abel thoroughly enjoyed caning as many girls as would let him, he seemed (and is) completely adorable. We began a cyberspace friendship back then and we would swap stories. I knew that his stories were better than mine, but he was kind enough to read them and offer advice, and I was grateful for a reader.

Most of my stories were about a girl and a boy. He spanked her, with various twists on that theme. Over time, on the odd day, I would have the inclination to add in a third person or even more. It was just fun to imagine these things up. One day, I wrote about a King and his girl, and I sent the story to Abel. He made some suggestions about the 'sex scene' but other than that, he said he "loved" it. It was the first time anybody had ever said that about one of my stories and to this day, that particular story is a special one for me. I thought it was about time I gave my readers an opportunity to read a story in its entirety and 'After the Beating' seems a good place to start. It seems too late in the day to change the title, but I should note that my husband hates this title. 'To beat' suggests something awful to him and he doesn't do 'awful'. Point taken. But, on this particular day it was indeed a 'beating' that the King ordered. As you will read, fortunately, the girl was not unduly upset about the situation. So hopefully readers won't be offended either.

I hope that you enjoy reading the story but please note that it is my story and subject to copyright.

AFTER THE BEATING


His Private Secretary led the way to the King’s Private Chambers, where he waited for her. It was not his wish to have her beaten so severely, or so publicly and humiliatingly, along with the other misbehaving palace servants. However, it had, alas, become necessary to demonstrate to her that she was not above his law, and that her insolence would not be tolerated indefinitely.

At first, he had found her cheekiness, quite endearing. Such a young, spirited girl! He would enjoy the task of taming her, of teaching her how to behave in royal presence. Frankly, he enjoyed her little teases and was loathe putting an end to them. If she had had the discipline to contain the repartee to his bedroom and private quarters, he may never have found the need for the punishment that had just taken place. It was unfortunate that she had forgotten herself in the presence of one of his most trusted advisers! Her fate had been sealed. He called for his Private Secretary the moment the words were out of her mouth, and ordered for her to be caned at the earliest opportunity, with any other misbehaving girl in the Palace.

“It is fortuitous, Your Majesty, that a public caning of five girls is scheduled to take place in an hour. Shall I make her the sixth?” He felt obliged to confirm the order, for never in the past eight months had the King laid a hand on the girl, except to provide her with sweet caresses and pleasure of the most unearthly kind.

“Yes. Take her. And teach her how to behave herself”.

It was not what he wanted, but what must be done. He could not allow such indiscretions. He had his position in the Court to consider. It would not be politic for anyone to see a young girl giving cheek to him, the Sovereign. They would think he had gone soft, allowing a young slip of a thing to say whatever she pleased and not castigated for it. He must exercise his authority, over her and all his people. Truth to tell, it would do her no harm either to be punished severely. As much as he was smitten by her, a girl, any girl, needed to know she could go only so far before a firm hand was taken to her.

Even so, he did not watch the caning from the balcony adjacent to his private office that looked onto the courtyard below. He had no desire to watch it at all, but it became impossible to not hear the proceedings. It had taken only four or five stripes across their backsides before all the girls were howling, pleading, and sobbing away. He steeled himself, privately hoping that she had found the courage within to act bravely, to use her sound intellect to find ways to bear it as proudly as possible. He was a realist nonetheless. There was only so much a girl could do to withstand a flogging before she was lost in her pain, and oblivious to the noise and spectacle she was creating. Instead, he concentrated on the number of the strokes, trying to keep up with when the guards might be moving from one girl to another. In the end, he simply waited, knowing that eventually the guards would put down their canes.

At last silence prevailed and he could breathe a sigh of relief.

A full hour passed before he heard the familiar footsteps of his Private Secretary, and the three soft knocks at his door, as was the custom.

“Enter”, said the King.

“Sire”, said the Private Secretary, “the girl has been soundly caned. I have taken the liberty of having her bathed and her welts tended, and she has been dressed in a black silk nightgown. I hope that these details are agreeable to you.”

“Yes, thank you, Charles. Please have her enter and I bid you good evening. I do not wish to be disturbed again until the morning, unless it is a matter of the utmost importance.”

“As you wish, Sire.”

The Private Secretary bowed and left the room and a moment later the girl stood before him, just inside the door. Her head was bowed, and she had, in little more than an hour, changed. They both felt the weight of the change and a silence hung over them both as each searched for the way forward.

At last the King stretched out his arms, and spoke, “Come to me, my dear girl.”

She approached him where he sat beside the fireplace and awaited further instructions. She continued to avert her eyes, studying instead the exquisite patterns of the Persian carpet beneath their feet.

“Look at me please, girl.”

She did so immediately.

“It gave me no pleasure to have you punished, but I have told you often enough that when you are in the company of other people, you must show due deference to me.”

She was silent.

“Have I not?”

“Yes Sire.”

“Then why were you insolent?”

“I forgot myself Sire.”

“Indeed you did. Are you sorry for your behaviour?”

“Yes Sire.”

“And will you never do it again?”

“No Sire. Never.”

“Very well. I believe you.”

His face softened. He felt the familiar tug of his heart as he looked into her young, fresh face.

“Come to me, dear girl. Sit on my lap and let me comfort you.”

She hesitated for not a split second, and immediately made her way onto his lap, spreading her arms around his shoulders, and crying softly and helplessly into the crook of his neck.

“Now. Now.” he cooed into her ear. “It is all over. You are my sweet good girl again.”

At his comforting words, he could feel her begin to relax, and as his hand made its way to her upper thigh, she unthinkingly opened her legs a little to allow him access. She could never have enough attention and she was hungry for him to make full use of her. Her bottom still hurt terribly and she tried to perch on him such that her bottom was not touched, but in spite of the heat and the ache, she felt the strongest urge for sexual satisfaction. Perhaps it was the aphrodisiac of power and status, perhaps it was the man himself, and perhaps the caning had some magic of its own, but she was wanton. Helplessly, hopelessly wanton.

“Please do with me as you wish, Sire. I only wish to please you.”

He was smitten enough with her to believe her words. It had not occurred to him that as much as she might want to please him, she wanted to please herself even more. And it was hardly a problem. King or no King, he was the kind of man that took enormous pleasure in pleasing a woman. His orgasm was secondary to watching and hearing the delights he could induce in a woman.

”Stand up, my dear.” She did so.

“Take off your nightgown.” She obeyed.

“Now turn around and bend over the ottoman. Arms in front of you.” She complied instantly.

For the first time he had a bird’s eye view of her punished bottom. His Private Secretary was not exaggerating when he said that she had been severely punished. Welts covered her backside in varying directions and there had been a few misfired strokes too, so her thighs and sides of her legs also bore welts. Her buttocks were a fiery red and some bruising had already begun. In spite of himself, the state of her buttocks and the fact that she lay there placidly awaiting his pleasure was fodder to his imagination and his deepest primal urges. He wanted her as he had never wanted her before.

He approached her and bent down right behind her. He brought his hand forward and felt between her legs and immediately she began to groan. She was ripe and he entered her with ease. She uttered one long guttural sound and he knew she required no further preparation. The sounds she made were music to his ears and her sensations were sublime. Every stroke of that cursed cane had been worth the divine lengthy orgasms she was experiencing. Were they many or one very long earth shattering one? Whatever it was, she had never come like this. He adored her at this moment. How free and unencumbered she was!

Eventually, knowing that she was totally satisfied, he allowed himself a deep, long and hugely satisfying orgasm, and the grunts that came out of his mouth were those of the jungle. Here was a King who at this moment was releasing his strongest animalistic tendencies.

They stayed together in this position for several minutes, recovering, soaking up the moment. Finally, the King gave her the lightest pat on her rear, and asked her to go and run their bath.

She complied, of course. With treasures such as these to be had, control of her tongue seemed a small price to pay. She would do her best, in any case. If she should succumb to temptation once in a while, perhaps the end may in fact justify the means.


© Vesta
July 2007