“We have a few minutes darling and you obviously need something.” Hannah said after we finished a light and perfect smoked salmon and salad lunch with a pleasing white wine, “Rinse off the salad paddle and meet me upstairs.”
I hastened to comply. The salad paddle is fast becoming Hannah’s spanking implement of choice. It is decently heavy but perfectly fitted to Hannah’s delicate hand. And, I suspect, she enjoys the results as even a mild spanking enreddens my bottom quickly and completely.
Hannah was sitting on our bed and I handed her the paddle. “Well lets get those pants off and don’t forget the socks.” I did and soon fond myself lying across Hannah’s lap. I think she enjoys the initimacy of the OTK position. And, of course, the bed being quite low, I am required to take a good deal of the weight off her lap by raising myself with my hands and feet touching the floor.
Hannah wordlessly began to warm me up with her hand. And then, pausing for just a second, she began to apply the paddle with a fairly light stroke to begin. She paddles in a four stroke diagonal pattern – sometimes if she wants to work my upper thighs she will switch to a pattern of six. The force of the strokes is carefully controlled and escalates steadily. Hannah has realized that the best maintenance spanking has to sting. No point otherwise.
And this spanking began to sting about a dozen strokes in. Hannah also knows that no spanking should end just when it begins to sting. So when I begin to squirm and vocalize a bit she simply increases the pace and the force until, finally, she is satisfied I have leaned my leason or remembered my place. Yesterday that was accomplished quite quickly and while my bottom was burning when Hannah was done, it was a warm sort of pain.
“Fetch your cup and lift up your shirt. I want you to masturbate. Quickly…” I got my iron saki cup and lifted my T to expose my nipples to their punishment. Hannah teased them. “Well, get started. It really shouldn’t take you very long darling. Nine days and all those silly morning erections.” She pinched my left nipple…”Ok dear, five more strokes and if you are not done you’ll have to put that away.” I pulled and she pinched and on the fourth stroke the sweet gush of semen coursed into the cup.
“There we go. A nice red bottom and a bit of milking. Perfect. Now drink that, rinse out the cup and get back to work. I am going to read for a little while.”
The one thing I have learned about drinking my own semen is that it is best to drink it as a shot when it is still warm. So I did.
And putting the salad paddle back in its drawer I went back to work with a huge smile and a slight side to side twitch as I struggled to find a way of sitting comfortably on the hard wood of my desk chair.