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Angela tries to be good, but fails...

Her crop was not actually any more painful than the other implements she had used to punish my butt in the past, just scarier. The way it whistled through the air...the way it stung.

Suddenly she applied 5 strokes in quick succession to each cheek, no pauses. I struggled mightily to stay in position. Usually Amanda would crank up the intensity just before my punishment ended...but tonight I wasn't sure about anything. She placed the crop on a couch next to us, right where I could see it, and then caressed my hot bottom gently with her cool fingers. I felt myself unwind, relax, open up. She bent down to kiss the back of my neck. I felt her hot breath. My cock, balls and ass -- sore as it was - all ached with a need for...more. God, just more. It was insatiable, that desire. A Pavlovian response? Perhaps. With Amanda, my body had certainly learned that good things always came after "punishments".

"Come here, Nash." Amanda's voice was rough and smoky. I straightened up from the table, turned to face her and she took me in her arms, pulling me close and soothing my sore cheeks with her touch. Then she took one of my hands down between us, pulled up that leather skirt and inserted my middle two fingers into her slippery wetness. I dared to caress her clit briefly and she pushed against my fingers in response.

"Taste." I pushed my fingers deep inside her and then brought them to my mouth, savoring the flavor of her. I knew our games got Amanda off just as much as me. She drew me to her lips for a breathy kiss, tasting herself on my tongue. My body melted into hers and she held me firmly, possessively, gently teasing my lips with hers. I felt her pelvis push against my cock, acknowledging its presence. The cool leather of her skirt felt good against my nakedness. As we kissed, Amanda pulled my ass cheeks apart and trailed a finger up my crack, producing an involuntary gasp when she paused to tease my anus. I so wanted it.

Her next words were a surprise, spoken in a whisper. "Touch me." That was my permission to unclasp my hands from behind my back and explore Amanda's soft loveliness...within limits. In times past I had been clumsy and too eager, going straight to her nipples and crotch. The paddle had fallen hard on those occasions. Through trial and error (and let's face it, even the errors had pleasant outcomes) Amanda had basically trained me to know exactly what she liked. And no matter how wet she was she liked a slow start. I ran my fingers slowly and sensuously over any place I could find bare skin...the tops of her thighs, her soft bottom, her shoulders and neck, her arms and hands.

Our lips were connected again in another kiss, my head tilted up to hers. The way she held me, her height in those heels and her confidence all combined to turn me buttery soft inside, utterly willing to do as she pleased. Being subjugated for Amanda's pleasure rocked my world in a way I had a hard time explaining to myself. I wasn't into humiliation. The most pain I was into was a good spanking to warm up my bottom. But the thought of basically being Amanda's bitch, to do with as she pleased? That was a kick I never tired of.

I trusted her with my willingness. And parts of me emerged with Amanda that surfaced in no other way. Writhing, ecstatic, impossibly hot parts. Gone was Nash the CEO, Nash the guy in charge, Nash the Head Honcho and the Craving, Nasty Nash appeared. My kink drawer was open, I enjoyed my spankings and looked forward to obeying every command Amanda gave me, shamelessly. Because she knew me...all of me.

My hands soothed and caressed her soft skin, lifting her skirt and tracing circles on her smooth, round butt.

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