Samantha sits in a rather demure, stern and sexy way, on the velvet green spanking bench you have seen used to wonderful effect on many an upturned bare bottom. She looks up into your eyes, and beckons you to go closer to her, with her finger…
A look that has melted my own heart a thousand times.
She looks so alluring, you move nervously towards her. You stand so close that you can smell the fresh laundered smell of her crisp white blouse and tight hip hugging black pencil skirt, which I have looked at longingly so often. Her perfume is delicate and expensive. “Are you enjoy our latest story, ‘The Spanking adventures of Upskirt Evans?'” She asks politely.
Her voice, mellow, calm and sexy, drifts into your mind like an expensive claret pours into a cut glass goblet, full of promise and expectancy.
‘Yes.’ You reply. (At least I hope you do!)
Click here…
…https://www.spanking-emporium.co.uk/spanking-emporium/?p=22640
“Oh good.” She says seductively as she stands, and picks up a bright and cheerful ‘hobby horse’. “Would it surprise you to know that this comes in to play?”
Feeling privileged that she has picked you out of all my followers, you swallow dryly, and reply. ‘Yes, it would.’
She lets out a sensual little giggle, full of secrets. Then walks by you to pick something up.
You turn and follow her with your eyes, then watch her walk back. The controlled, yet fluid walk of a well trained and practised model. Slow, assured, hips swaying, one foot directly before the other. She carries two, obviously old, wooden objects. As she passes, she says…”and these?”
‘Yes, they seem unusual and intriguing’ you say calmly, even though your heart is beating like a steam hammer.
Another voice breaks in, you turn to see Charlotte. Beautiful and bright, like an English summer meadow. Her voice sounds like a excited babbling brook as it lilts along, yet at the same time, as enchanting as the tintinnabulation of some distant English country church bell “….and what about these eh? I bet you won’t be surprised if these figure in it at some point!”
The girl whom I often refer to as a sweet English rose is bent over the flogging horse, tantalisingly playing with a flexible best quality, German, rattan cane.
“Good grief.” you think, “I am here with these two, I hope I…”
Your naughty thought, be you dominant or submissive, female or male goes off into a sexually charged fantasy.
Samantha turns around sharply….”hmmm, interesting fantasy. Don’t forget, we can read your thoughts!”
At this point I walk back in, I have been searching for props, as we are ready to shoot the next series of events.
Like two innocent schoolgirls…good girls, where butter would not melt in their sweet innocent mouths, they sit smiling, waiting, patiently.
“Hello Mr.Jones.” Dribbles one smooth voice.
“Hello Mr.Jones.” Oozes another succulent one.
I stop. “Hmmm, they seem very innocent. That always means trouble. What have they been up to?” I think.
I look at the studio set, then back to the two naughty little vixen with, once again, ‘butter would not melt’ expressions. I fold my arms and raise an eye brow….”I could hear you two talking, I hope it was to each other! If you two have been giving little hints out about my writing it will be skirts up, knickers down and a spanking apiece! That metaphoric butter might not melt in your mouths, but believe me, it would melt quickly on your bright red hot bottoms, if so!”
“Oh…as if we would Mr.Jones.” Replies one innocent sweet little voice.
“Not us Mr.Jones, oh no, we would not do that.” Replies another sincere, honest cheerful voice.
I turn to a corner of the studio, where the remnants of some naughty vision floats, like a bottom blushing pink cloud. I can see you, yes YOU!
“You would tell me if they had…wouldn’t you?!”
Have a nice day y’all! Hope you get to smack a bottom, or have yours smacked.
Asa