You know how I like being spanked? Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t know that. Sure, I flail my feet around and screech about it while it’s happening but that doesn’t mean I’m not loving every minute of it. The whole bare-butt-up-to-the-sky and Graham’s dick prodding me in the stomach as I squirm against it, the sound of flesh against flesh and his angry voice telling me what a brat I am or whatever I’ve done to deserve getting spanked, which is most likely being a brat because that’s kind of my default position.
Getting spanked hurts, in case you’ve never done it, but not in the way that stubbing your toe hurts. It hurts in that way that having your nipple twisted hurts (yeah, like you don’t love having your nipple twisted, come off it), which is this way that rushes like fire to your cock and lights it up like a Christmas tree and there’s bells ringing in your ears if you can hear them over the smacking and the screaming and it’s like all the devils inside you are being purged until you can’t hardly do anything except cry and wonder if it’ll ever end.
And then, if you’ve got a nice boyfriend like I do, you get all wrapped up and snuggled hard and told how good you are and it’s true then. You weren’t good before, but now you’re good. Clean and forgiven and your ass hurts just right and if you’re really lucky, there’s some sweet make-up sex to round the whole thing off. So yeah, I like being spanked.
And I like having my dick locked up, apparently, or I wouldn’t keep making it happen. That’s just between us though, OK? Don’t go running and telling Graham about it. If he ever got it in his head that I like having this thing on me, I’d never get it off again.
But so last night, it turned out there’s a new thing. There’s getting spanked and there’s having your cock in a cage, and then there’s getting spanked while your cock is in a cage. Which I didn’t know was a thing.
See, the cage is supposed to be punishment but if Graham wants to punish me and the cage is already on, then what does he do?
Apparently I can be a brat even with the cage on and apparently I was according to His Majesty (who gets to watch whatever he wants to watch because I could just watch what I want to watch before he gets home from work, or so his side of the story goes). And the next thing I know I’m over his lap with my pajama bottoms around my knees and that damn cage in between his thighs getting wailed on.
Not just once, mind you, but every time a commercial comes on. Do you know how many minutes of commercial time there are in an episode of The Walking Dead? And, dude! We have a DVR. You could be fast-forwarding through those commercials instead of using the time to pound on my ass like a bongo.
It’s a different experience getting spanked in a cage because it’s twice as humiliating, for one thing. Sort of infantilizing, because I’m ass up over his lap and then I’m not even hard, which is how I usually end up. But last night, there’s just spanking, no wanking. No rubbing my dick against his thigh or trying to angle it down between his legs where it’s like fucking into him with every slap.
Last night, the pretense that I was being punished, not pleased, was really true. I was there because he was pissed at me, and because it was getting him off (his erection made its usual appearance, I promise you that) but nothing to do with me and what I wanted at all.
Which got me so fucking hot I couldn’t even stop the way I was grinding down on him. Uselessly. Totally uselessly grinding down on him and flailing around and yelling at him to quit it and then begging him to quit it and saying pretty much anything to get him to quit it except my safeword, but he didn’t quit it, not until stupid Walking Dead was over.
Then he made me suck his cock while he watched the news, which I hate. The news, not sucking his cock. I like that. But I didn’t even get fucked, which he said was part of my punishment. So apparently I can’t be a brat now? Yeah, we’ll see about that.