#70) Photography 2 – GRAPHIC CONTENT

Another picture that grabbed my attention, wouldn’t let me alone, had to have a backstory created and shared.

I told Jillian that I wanted to run away with her, escape our hum-drum life (at least for the weekend), do something special and fun and decadent. So I rented the penthouse suite of rooms in the finest four-star hotel in the near-by big city. Later, we have dinner reservations at the toniest of restaurants, and fourth row center seats to a Broadway-touring show. But that’s later. First she has to sing for her supper…

I take one of the lamps from the matching bedside tables, and place it on its side on the mattress. As desired, it casts a shadow on the huge headboard. Jilli notices this, looks back at me inquisitively. I make the breath catch in her throat with what I have to say…

“In a moment, when I tell you to, you’re going to take those lovely lingerie knickers down, along with the garter belt and the tops of the hosiery, all down past your knees. You are to stay right in the middle of the bed, right where you are to do this. Then, with your unmentionables framing your bared naughty bits, I’m going to strap your deserving bottom with this tawse. You have a bad habit, Jilli. You tend to flinch the second before a stroke lands on your backside. I’ve warned you about this in the past, but you haven’t tried to correct this on your own. So I’m going to help you learn this lesson…”

I nod. My girlfriend does as she’s been told. She catches-on and rests her head on the pillow, so she can see the shadow cast on the headboard. That shadow will tell her what’s happening behind her, to her lovely bared behind.

“I have a certain set number of strokes I intend to administer to your bottom to learn this lesson, Jillian. You are to count each stroke just after it’s been given in a clear, loud voice. If you fail to count it aloud, it won’t count toward that total. More importantly, if you flinch a muscle as I administer each stroke, that stroke will not count toward the total. If you’re not a good girl, Jilli, we’ll miss our dinner reservations…”

I put my left hand in the center of her lower back to pin her in-place. We both watch the shadow this casts. I raise the supple strap overhead. Then I’m mesmerized by the beauty of her buttocks. Two perfect, unblemished mounds of baby-fat and toned muscle, each hemisphere comprising a round orb that is my whole world. As pretty as her face is, her symmetrical buttocks surpass it in beauty, surpass everything I’ve ever seen in my entire lifetime in beauty, and I’ve traveled the world. And the split strap, high overhead, comes down unerringly, bisecting her buttocks with a fearsome loud crack and a bright red swath. But, true to form, the instant before the leather lands, making the flesh contort and the girl yelp, her muscles tighten, making her bottom tense and jiggle and making the stroke hurt all the worse. Jillian had seen the shadow and anticipated the blow.

“One!” she cried out.

“No, as I told you, that won’t count. You flinched, little girl!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“I don’t care about that any more. I’ve told you too many times in the past. We’re still at zero, get ready for your first stroke…” I said, looking at the vivid red welt I’d just placed across her ass and burned into her consciousness.

Is it the cha-cha where your dance partner takes one step forward and then one back? That’s how her beating proceeded all late afternoon long. For a while I thought we were making headway, until I realized that Jilli had closed her eyes tight to what was happening. She got extra strokes for that. Soon her bottom was blazing and her make-up was ruined, but her bad habit was starting to crumble, along with all decorum. Finally, my lover took ten licks in a row without flinching, my unvoiced goal for her. To do so, she probably had to receive eighty or so hard strap-strokes. I placed the implement on the pillow under Jilli’s nose, and buried my face in her twin orbs, kissing her tenderly, drinking in her smell, luxuriating in the feel of her hot cheeks caressing mine. I kneaded her bum-flesh like leavened bread dough, feeling my desire for her rise, needing the tactile sensations of my contrite submissive whimpering her thanks for the strict lesson I’d just administered. I pressed my nose into her rear dimple to be able to lap at her engorged sex with my tongue, and she exploded in a series of orgasms.

“That’s my good girl,” I said over and over, knowing that the vibrations of my voice were driving her insane with ecstatic release.

It fueled my libido all the more watching Jillian eat all of her gourmet dinner and watch half of the theatrical show perched on one hip or the other, unable to sit fully flush on her bottom for most of the night out.

“My butt is still so sore!” Jillian lamented in the Lyft ride from the theater back to our hotel. We both noticed the driver’s ears perk-up and his head tilt back to try to eavesdrop on our conversation.

“That’s because you tense up! You feel it deep in the muscle tissue, whereas, if you’d behave, you’d only feel it on the surface. Maybe when I get you home to the hotel, I’ll have to give you another lesson…”

Once behind our closed hotel room door, I said to Jillian, “Strip out of your gown and go wait for me in the bathroom.” Her eyes grew big, as if another lesson with the tawse awaited, maybe this time on a wet bottom under the shower. When she was out of earshot, I lifted the telephone receiver. “Room service? Please send a magnum of your finest champagne to room 901 as soon as possible. Yes, thank you!” I just had time to strip off all my clothes before there was the knock on the door. I tried to only open the door a crack to grab the chilled bottle and hand over a twenty for the tip. I held it behind my back as I went into the bathroom. “Step into the tub, Jilli,” I ordered. She looked like she was afraid of another lesson on an already sore tushy. “Take a swig of this!” I smiled and handed her the big bottle. When she had, I took it back. “I’m going to drink mine off your ass,” and I poured a splash down one hip and began a furious tongue-lashing of her curves.

5 responses to “#70) Photography 2 – GRAPHIC CONTENT”

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