Free Bad Penny by Penny Birch Page A

taut across my cheeks. My pulse was fast and my breathing was deep, too, as if I needed to take in extra air.
    â€˜Should you see a woman in such a pose,’ I went on, elaborating the game, ‘it would not be inappropriate to punish her. A spanking might be considered suitable.’
    That was it; I’d been teasing, playful, yet I’d said what I really wanted.
    â€˜Would you let me?’ he asked quietly.
    My heart leapt as he said it. I’d done it; I’d found someone who wanted to smack my bottom!
    â€˜You wouldn’t!’ I teased.
    He grinned, and not shyly either.
    â€˜No, sir, please!’ I squeaked as he got up. ‘Not that!’
    â€˜I’m afraid that it is my duty,’ he said sternly.
    â€˜No,’ I whimpered, ‘please, no, sir, not a spanking!’
    He approached me, slowly, and then took me gently around the waist. I closed my eyes in bliss, concentrating on the feel of his strong arm as it circled my waist. We’d been playing, an erotic game, but still play. Now we weren’t. He was going to spank me for real. It would really sting, really make me blush and kick and squeak. I sighed as his hand touched my bottom through my panties. It began to move, firmly and in little circles.
    â€˜Come on, punish me,’ I breathed.
    His hand left my bottom and then came down across my cheeks, quite hard. I gave a little gasp, revelling in the sensation of it as another smack fell on the seat of my panties. I was bent over with my dress pulled up, being spanked purely because it excited him to punish me. My bottom was warming under the smacks too, and the heat went to my pussy.
    He tightened his grip and started to spank harder, making me feel helpless. I started to kick a bit with each slap, wondering if he still needed prompting to take my panties down. A sudden flurry of sharp smacks had me squeaking and gasping and I realised that he almost certainly didn’t.
    â€˜I’m going to pull your knickers down, Penny,’ he said.
    I just sighed. His hand went to my waistband and down they came, slowly, peeled down to expose my hot bottom to his gaze. The way he did it was really lecherous, and very different from the pre-emptory, matter-of-fact way my aunt had pulled my panties down the last time I’d been spanked. She’d done it because she didn’t see why they should stay up, although she was certainly aware that it shamed me to have my bottom stripped as if my exposure were of no importance. Alex obviously regarded it as very important, peeling them down and breathing heavily as my bare bum came on show. I sighed deeply as he settled them around my thighs, opening my legs in completely willing surrender.
    I was open in front of him, wet, vulnerable and eager, my pussy gaping, my bumhole showing, my reddened bottom stuck up, naked. He began to caress me, fondling my bottom like a prize peach and giving the occasional little slap to make my cheeks bounce. There was something really lewd about the way he did it, moulding and squeezing my flesh, pulling my cheeks open so that he could get a sneaky peep at my bottom-hole.
    â€˜I want to see you kick again,’ he said, his voice thick with lust.
    He took me back around the waist, much harder, and really began to beat me. The smacks were hard, and given with the flat of his hand across the tuck of my bottom so that each sent a shock straight to my pussy. It hurt, too, and I was quickly kicking as much as he could have wanted, my legs going up and down and my bottom bucking under the pain. I was squealing too, trying to keep quiet but not really succeeding.
    When he finally stopped, it was all I could do to slump over the table. I felt genuinely punished and sorry for myself, but also in ecstasy, having been given a good, hard, male spanking for the first time.
    He went back to exploring me, now touching my body with a prurient interest that I can only describe as molestation. Not that I