Paula the Perfect Pear Ch. 08

When we walked through the front door I turned and put my hands on his chest.

"Wait here, David," I said.

I was so nervous my hands were trembling as I went into the kitchen and got one of the sturdy kitchen chairs.

I carried it back and put it in the middle of the front room, as he watched.

I went to him and took his hand, my eyes downcast, and led him to the chair, motioning for him to sit.

When he was seated I moved to stand beside him, lifted my skirt and bent down, and laid across his lap, my hips on his thigh. It was awkward and uncomfortable and exciting and thrilling and I was frightened and excited.

I closed my eyes.

"Will it hurt?" I asked.

"Will what hurt?" he said.

"When you spank me," I said.

His hand was light on my ass as he caressed me very gently.

"Is that what you want Paula?" he asked.

"Will it hurt?" I repeated.

He chuckled softly.

"Of course, it will hurt," he said, still lightly caressing, "otherwise it wouldn't be a spanking and your surrender wouldn't mean anything."

"Oh God," I said very softly, almost a moan.

"Please David," I said, my eyes still closed, "spank me. I have been naughty and I deserve it."

I heard him catch his breath.

"You understand that it is not punishment Paula," he said. "It is something we both want."

I gulped and whispered "yessssss," deliberately hissing the sibilant.

"Good girl," he said softly, his hand still very gently caressing my big ass.

I shuddered as I felt his fingers at the elastic of the panty's waistband and then again, as he started to work them down. I swear I could feel the air, cool, as he tugged hard enough to get the front of the panties past my belly and mons.

I don't think I have ever, before or since, felt as naked, as utterly exposed, as I did right at that moment. I was fully clothed, well, except for the bra I had given him earlier, but my ass was exposed because my panties were making a tight band at the top of my thighs.

The pressure in my belly was terrible. I knew if I touched myself I would be slick. I was so frightened that I was having trouble breathing. But I was also so excited, so physically aroused, that I couldn't wait for him to start.

Suddenly I felt him lift his hand.

My ass clenched automatically, anticipating the blow.

And nothing happened.

I wasn't breathing.

My ass was clenched.

And still, nothing happened.

I relaxed then and as I was taking a breath

smack

It couldn't really be called a slap. More of a pat. Very light. Right where I sit.

And then he was caressing again, so softly, so gently, and I was making that soft moan/hum that all women make when they are getting aroused.

His hand raised and I clenched involuntarily. Once again he waited until I relaxed and

Smack

Very slightly harder this time, in exactly the same place, and there was that moan/hum again before I even knew I was making it.

His left hand was on my back now, gently pressing my spine between my shoulder blades. This position left me absolutely no leverage. I was completely helpless.

And the caresses felt so good. The tickles.

And then he was raising his hand again and I was tensed.

And relaxed.

SMack

A little harder again, and right in the same place. This time there was the slightest sting, but the tingle in my belly and the wetness I could feel between my legs masked it.

The spanking took forever. Seriously. It took some measurable fraction of eternity.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry out. But about the 20th stroke, when he was starting to really hit hard, I did.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry. But about the 30th stroke, when the sound of his hand on my ass was loud in my ears, I did.

I promised myself I wouldn't kick my legs like a silly little girl. But about the 50th stroke, when the pain was a living thing threatening to take me away, I couldn't help myself.

I promised myself I wouldn't tell him to stop and that promise I managed to keep. If I said "stop," I was afraid he would, and never do it again. And it was wonderful. It was agonizing. I was sobbing like a little girl. But it was wonderful too. He was right. I was truly feminine at that moment.

His hand, lightly caressing, was a fire leaving my skin begging to be left alone as he said "count backward with me now Paula, starting at 10."

And with no more warning than that he hit me right where he had been hitting me, the hardest SMACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK yet.

"TENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!" I screamed.

And again the sweet relief/agony of his soft caress.

SMACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

"Nuh -- nuh -- NINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE" I got out between sobs.

At seven I came.

I'm not one of those women you see in the porno videos, and yes, I have looked from time to time, who "squirt." My orgasms, the few I've had with a man, tend to be a sharp tension in my belly followed by trying to catch my breath.

So I'm NOT one of those women.

But when I came, I didn't just "squirt." I sprayed. I thought my bladder control had failed. My entire body clenched and the sudden sweet agony/ecstasy so deep in my belly was far beyond anything I had ever experienced before. It came in three distinct waves, each one more intense than the last. It was painful, the way I was cramping so deep in my belly, but it was such pure pleasure at the same time.

Oh, fuck, I sound crazy but that's the only way I can describe it.

At two I came again.

And at one I was spent.

I couldn't get up from my position across his knees.

Long streamers of snot and thick mucus-laden drool ran from my nose and mouth to a puddle on the floor.

My tears spattered.

And I whimpered "I love you, David."

He replied "good girl. Now get up and go stand in the corner."

And I did.

And when he told me to I held my skirt up so he could see what he had done to my ass.

And I loved doing it. Even as I stood there, tears and snot running down my pretty blouse, I knew I had passed some point of no return. And I loved that too. I was claimed. I was his. And I was glad.