Sometimes the urge strikes. You're lying in someone's bed (Michael's, in this case), reading Guns & Ammo. You start to get horny while reading up on the latest Ruger. So you lie on your stomach, unzip your fly, move your right hand down your pants and finger yourself, turning to a review of a SIG Sauer. Michael's off doing something, and you don't know where the rest of the boys are, so you're alone.
A blissful afternoon, right? It would've been had Sam not busted into the loft with a six-pack of beer and some yogurt for posterity. We made this deal one time while we were working a job together. If he caught me masturbating in the loft hanging around waiting for Michael, he'd spank me until I said "Daddy." If I caught him masturbating, I'd do the same to him, and he would call me "Mommy." And yes, I made this deal knowing that spanking is a turn-on of mine. When he came in, I knew the deal was about to go in effect.
"Hi, honey, I'm home," he said as he barged in.
I took my hand out of my pants.
"Fi, have you been doing something while I've been out?"
"It's not your business to know, Sam."
"I think you've been masturbating."
"You remember our deal, right?"
I pulled down my pants and underwear, pulling them down to my ankles. "All right, Sam. Let's do this."
I bent over in Sam's lap, my ass in the air. He grabbed my Guns and Ammo and rolled it up.
"Are you sure you want this, Fi?"
"Well, I can't wait to catch you in the act."
"I won't start until you say yes."
"Yes, Sam. Hit me."
I find spanking pleasurable. Cuts, burns, sewn-up bullet wounds with little topical anesthesia—I've been through worse. Sam should've seen me in Catholic school getting whipped by a leather belt. (This was very early in my schooling, as there was legislation to ban corporal punishment in Ireland in 1982. You can see how I started to become who I am today.)
A rolled up magazine has a certain sting when it's applied to the ass. You can not only feel the weight of the bundled paper hitting each cheek, you feel the force applied behind the bundled paper. I find the feeling relaxing.
Poor Sam. He ended up spanking me with the magazine until his wrists were tired. By then, I was in ecstasy. I ended up rolling my eyes and moaning "Daddy."
Yes, I moaned.
I heard Sam drop the magazine after that.
I looked into Sam's eyes. "That felt really good, Daddy. Can you do it again?"
"That's not how you're supposed to act when you receive punishment."
"I'm not like other girls, Daddy."
"You're the kinkiest woman I've ever met, Fi."
"Oh, I know."
Sam got up and picked up the magazine, rolling it back up. He flexed his sore wrists. "This time, I want you to say my name louder. I'm not going to stop until you scare the whole neighborhood."
I grinned. "Oh, yes, Daddy."