• Aisling O'Shea

Seduction, sex, and secret spanking desire

Updated: May 6

Hello dear reader, I'm so glad you've found your way to my little hideout in the world wide web. It truly thrills me to know that someone out in the big bad world is going to be reading my fantasies, exploring my naughty pictures, and maybe coming up with their own kinky little plans as a result.

I'm sure that you'll have guessed by now that I have a passion for spanking, and I trust that a discerning gentleman such as yourself will be itching to bend me over your knee and redden my bottom. Let me tell you, I most certainly deserve it.

Lockdown has seen me disappear into my private fantasy world a lot more often, and now I'm really beginning to crave the excitement of being a very naughty girl again. Every time I think about slipping into my pencil skirt and heels, sliding my backseam stockings onto my porcelain pins, and getting myself into trouble I can feel my panties get wet. I imagine a strong older man, with a firm hand to bring me back in line when I break the rules. I remember the hot, burning heat of the cane as it whips me.

As I type this, on a drizzly Tuesday afternoon at my desk I remember the first time I was spanked in public and I wonder when the next time will be. I was a very naïve nineteen year old, back in dear old Dublin when I went to my first kink event. I was wearing the most preposterously tiny black latex dress and I felt more naked than naked as I wandered into the dimly lit club on my own. I was far too embarrassed to tell any of my friends where I was going, and far too ashamed of my desires to even know how to ask for them.

Luckily for me, it didn't take long for me to catch the attention of a most excellent older couple. They could tell that it was my first time, I'm not entirely sure what gave me away but I guess there's only so much of a poker face that a young country girl can hope to achieve. We had a drink together, and I fumbled over my words, giggling too much, but still managing to catch myself at endearing instead of hysterical.

Soon enough, as I'm sure you would expect, we began to relax in each others company. They admired my dress and asked if I would like them to stroke it. The way their hands explored me excited me. His hand slid up my thigh to find my pussy bare, and starting to get wet. He told me that I was a very bad girl, I had made his cock hard. I would need to be punished for it. He sat down and gestured for me to come lie over his lap - I knew that if I bent over everyone would see that I wasn't wearing anything under my skimpy dress so at first I resisted. I was so turned on, I relented and I bent myself over his knee, ready to take my punishment.

He warmed by bottom up with his bare hand. I remember still how firm and strong his hands felt. I squirmed and whimpered when he spanked me, getting harder and harder until my bottom was roaring red. I could feel his cock, hard underneath me and I remember how badly I wanted to feel his cock inside my pussy. I knew I must have been so wet, but I didn't care, ass I wanted was for him to use me.

He finished, and I stood up. Starry eyed, and driven wild by desire. He told me I was a good girl now, and he put my hand on his cock over his trousers. I could feel it throb, I imagined it deep inside me and I wanted to beg him to take me then and there. It was against the rules. I wanted to break them.

I went home that night, and when I slipped beneath my sheets and felt the cool cotton against my beaming hot bum I remembered how it had felt to be exposed and punished. I was wet again, and this time my own fingers could explore my pussy. I made myself cum, thinking about being spanked and imagining being fucked right there in the club with everybody watching.

Thinking about it now has made me realise that I need to attend to some very important business... Until next time...

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