They were both writers of erotic stories who’d recently started submitting stories to a website that provided an outlet for their creative and fantastical tales as well as a source of such arousing stories for those who only read them. Another commonality between them was their stories showed a strong interest in impact play; spanking, straps, paddles, and hairbrushes, as foreplay and punishment and while his stories were solely in this genre, hers wandered into other areas as well. The darker BDSM side of this overlapping genre, but also purely romantic and sexual lesbian tales rounded out her portfolio. But that’s where their similarities ended.

For starters, Daphne had only just started writing, while Mark had written the equivalent of a novel or three over many years but had only just started submitting what had become a ‘Life of a Spanko’ tome in small bites, while also writing just as many new stories.

Their personal lives were quite different as well. She was a pretty, young lesbian from southern California, who was in a committed D/S relationship with a woman whom she clearly loved and adored … and obeyed, while he was a straight, retired IT executive from Florida, three times her age who is married to a woman who had no interest in this lifestyle, so in an odd twist of the usual age vs. experience cliché, she probably had more personal experience than he.

Daphne’s stories were occasionally autobiographical and if not, rooted in the reality of her life, while his were mostly fantasy inspired by either series of actual of events upon which various levels of pure fantasy were built, or a tiny, real spark of an experience or idea that gradually formed in his mind into his adventures of naughty boys and girls.

Still, they connected and became ‘friends’ of a sort while reading, enjoying, and commenting on each other’s stories. The comments were always of an appreciative nature, occasionally drawing a parallel or describing a connection they’d had with the other’s story.

Mark had just submitted the first of a four-part fable describing an unusual service that provided motivation for exceptional college-age students to keep their grades up and when they didn’t that motivation came in the form of bare bottom corporal punishment; an over the knee spanking with hand or hairbrush or a paddling bent over a desk, the severity of which increased with lower grades or the frequency of a grade even one point below the accepted standard.

He was proud of the story and having only released the first episode, was receiving ‘likes’ and comments more quickly than his other stories had. Surprisingly, given this story’s minor success, it was the first story for which Daphne, or for that matter anyone had offered a creative suggestion in the public comments, but also wrote a longer constructive criticism via private message, politely done without any of the other appreciative readers being able to see it.

This episode had just one detailed account of one of these punishments entailing a first-year student who’d earned a hairbrush spanking for a much lower grade than usual. The girl, a naïve, inexperienced virgin who’d only just figured out that she liked to be spanked was described as being very aroused during the painful hairbrush spanking she received over the knee of the headmistress-like woman who provided this service.

His ‘friend,’ Daphne, thought that the level of arousal described was unrealistic as she had received many such hairbrush spankings and described how much she’d love the anticipation before as well as the pain and marks after, but she wouldn’t be aroused during the spanking; quite the opposite in fact sincerely wishing it were over because it just hurt! Also, her bottom would be in much worse shape than just a deep shade of red as described in the story. She acknowledged the fantasy side of such stories that permitted such departures from reality but still felt it was too much.

In this case, Mark had had a personal experience of his own where a Mistress had given him more than double the number of hairbrush swats described in the story and though the second half of this spanking actually did ‘just hurt’, leaving him both bruised and blistered, he had enjoyed the first half. Still, he knew she wasn’t just being critical, noting that even in her message she worried that he might not appreciate her comments, yet he gratefully accepted her thoughts waiting till he decided what to do about them to reply to her message.

He thought that perhaps he’d overlooked some aspect of the scenario and overdone the severity. Some writers would infer that a male could take more punishment than a female, but he very much doubted this point of view. Maybe the character, being so new to this level of punishment, wouldn’t have enjoyed any of it while over ‘Miss Judy’s’ knee. Taking Daphne’s experience into account he decided to modify the story; reduce the number of swats the girl received and suggest minor enjoyment during a rest that was quickly replaced by extraordinary pain when the spanking resumed.

In his reply to her message a day later, he thanked Daphne for taking the time to offer her thoughts and experience, telling her he had already edited and resubmitted the story taking her comments into account and even gratefully acknowledged her input in the ‘author’s notes’. Her reaction surprised him as she hadn’t expected him to change his story because of her comments, though sticking to her assessment of the realism lacking in the story.

They exchanged a few comments back and forth on the subject, both accepting the other’s point of view and no feelings hurt. The message thread then took a completely unrelated turn into a discussion about music, only for her to return to the original subject a couple of days later with a message that, truthfully, shocked him.

Apparently, feeling both that she had ‘called him out’ on this aspect of his story as well as being intrigued by the specifics of this particular hairbrush spanking, she had actually arranged with a friend to receive a spanking patterned exactly on the one described in the story. He didn’t know what to think at first feeling horribly responsible, then honored in a strange sort of way, and finally thought he might be giving himself too much credit.

A message thread followed that showed Daphne to be the true ‘vixen’ her screen name suggested and Mark was proud of how intrigued she’d been with his story, though secretly he was also strangely agitated, the reason for which he could not identify.

Daphne: Just some FYI. I have set up a test spanking with Paula, a Domme-in-training friend, per your story. 100 punishment-level swats, in sets as described, with a wooden hairbrush. I'm actually curious how I will mark.

Mark: Holy S**t Daphne! Why are you doing this?!? Not driven by my story, I hope?

D: Actually, yes. I want to see what it looks like. Never had that exact thing before. My owner normally uses various hourglass timers during my punishments, and corner time. She has a collection of hourglass timers. 1 minute to an actual hour.

M: I'm sorry, I guess I'm overreacting. This is what you do, I suppose, but when you talked about my story you made it sound so severe and that’s why I changed the story. Just be careful, okay? I hope you'll tell me how it turns out?

D: Of course. Pretty much the reason I'm doing it. Haven't been paddled in quite a while, either, and it's about time.

M: Now I'm getting envious wishing I could be in your place. Can't wait to hear the result!

D: Lol. It's actually tame to me. It's a curiosity factor. Mostly about the results, since I kind of called you out on it.

M: You have no idea ... or maybe you do ... how incredibly hot it is to think of you arranging and looking forward to a punishment paddling inspired by a story I wrote.

D: Lol. Tonight. Will be sets of 5, 10, 15 and 20, same spot on each cheek. 5 in a row on the left, then 5 on the right. All sets the same way. Long break and touching between sets, as it's in fun and NOT a true punishment. Should take about 45 minutes.

M: What time tonight?

D: 7pm

M: 10pm here. I'll be in my hot tub thinking about you. Enjoy!!

That entire afternoon his agitation continued, a mixture of arousal imagining this very pretty girl (in actuality he didn’t know what she looked like but decided in his mind that she was gorgeous) willingly submitting to, no asking for this self-described very painful hairbrush spanking, envy at the ease with which she could arrange such a thing, as well as concern for her for something he felt inadvertently responsible for.

He did go into the hot tub that night as he did every other night at around nine o’clock and set an alarm on his phone to remind him when she’d be getting her punishment. He’d usually spend from two to three hours in not-so-hot water to relax or listen to music, but mostly it’s where the ideas for his stories were fleshed out or reviewed, imagining interesting new plotlines, or finding contradictions that needed fixing.

Tonight, though, he couldn’t get his mind on anything but her impending ass beating. He didn’t need the alarm as he looked at his phone every five minutes to see if it was time yet. When the time arrived, he suspected it wouldn’t start at the specific time she gave, rather there’d be pleasantries, and maybe not-so-pleasantries beforehand but by about ten-forty he sent her a message that he knew she wouldn’t see tonight, but when she did, she’d know she had been on his mind while she was getting spanked.

Thinking of you ... trying to imagine what you must be feeling. You must be well into it by now!?

Despite Daphne’s casual messages to Mark all day about it, an anticipation, more like a hunger, had been building, reaching fever pitch hours before Paula was to arrive. If she fed that hunger before an evening with Miss, she’d be caught out without doubt and the evening's unpleasantries would be decidedly more unpleasant, but Paula is still learning to be a Domme. Surely, she won’t know, will she? By late afternoon she’d convinced herself she can get away with it and her well-practiced fingers gave her some momentary relief, although not long after the hunger returned which is frustrating, yet she welcomed the delicious desire returning for what she’d planned, well knowing it would be quite painful.

Daphne let Paula in, who’d arrived on time as expected. They both smiled broadly at Daphne’s naked welcome at the door, remembering when they’d met. Miss loved making her answer her door to strangers completely naked, the first time being a humiliating experience but before long she’d come to enjoy the reactions of her stunned visitors.

Paula was a pretty young thing and a FedEx driver delivering a package who was instantly aroused by her sexy customer feeding a building lesbian desire that she had yet to fully accept. She returned later that evening to Daphne’s delight but wasn’t quite ready to give in to those feelings and left feeling confused. Fortunately, her courage returned a few days later and a new friend entered Daphne’s circle of pain-loving lezzies.

They exchanged a glance that said, ‘You’re sure about this?’, ‘Yes, it’s been too long, and I want it’, after which they kissed quickly but passionately. Heading to Daphne’s bedroom, Paula was only half dressed by the time they got there, and fully naked seconds later as Daphne unwrapped her pretty little present.

This lifestyle had progressed enough for Daphne to have a fully equipped dungeon ready for whatever roleplay or punishment was due, but as this was neither she’d decided to use her bedroom, borrowing only ‘the chair’ from upstairs, a strong, straight-backed chair that was in position ready to be sat on, bent over, or kneeled upon depending upon the position she was to be punished in. Tonight, her heavy, wooden hairbrush sat invitingly on the seat as both an inspiration and a threat.

So as not to waste time and atmosphere having to explain just beforehand, Paula had been fully briefed on the intent and procedure of this paddling to follow as closely as possible the hairbrush spanking the young college student had received in the story Mark wrote. The girl had been sentenced to a hundred swats of the brush in OTK position according to a pre-defined schedule for punishing these over-achieving students when they occasionally slipped up.

The pattern invented by ‘Miss Judy’ skipped the common swats to alternate cheeks, favoring the quickly building pain that was provided by concentrated smacks on one cheek. First, there were five on one cheek, followed by a short break after which another five were received by the other cheek. The girl, ‘Sara’, had gotten a longer break with a bit of her punisher’s soothing hands, before ten on each side were delivered in a similar fashion.

The pain of the first five was considerable, especially for one who’d never been spanked with anything but a hand, but they were almost tolerable. The ten that followed? … not so much, making her question her newfound belief that she might like getting spanked, but as the break wore on, the sensations in her panties made their presence felt yet again. When successive series of fifteen and twenty swats on each side were given, a slight numbing sensation set in allowing a bit of pleasure to return.

It was this pleasure and the description of a bottom only deeply reddened, that Daphne had challenged drawing on her own experience where being spanked with a hairbrush was only pleasurable during the anticipation before and the relief/desire after it was done. During the spanking, she felt only pain and a desperate desire for it to be over. Also, she’d be severely marked with colorful bruises of yellow, blue, and purple that lasted for days at least.

Still, she’d never had a spanking delivered in this fashion, Miss favoring timed punishments using appropriately exotic hourglasses of various time intervals, the ‘sands of time’ oh-so-slowly slipping through as whatever pain was being inflicted, so her intrigue centered on how this pattern worked and what marks she’d be left with.

Paula, though in training to give punishment, also liked receiving it, and it was this side of her that hugged Daphne tightly, pressing their bodies tightly for as much stimulating contact as possible before she had to change into the taskmaster she needed to be to punish Daphne properly.

“It’s time, Daphne. No more delays. Hand me the brush and tell me what punishment you’ve earned today,” Paula commanded slipping into her dominant role.

“Please, Mistress, I deserve to be punished … taken over your knee and spanked with the hairbrush on my bare bottom. Please spank me as we discussed,” Daphne asked with appropriate respect as she handed her the tool that she knew would bring her so much pain.

“Very well,” she said as she sat in the spanking chair, “you know what to do. I needn’t remind you that all the rules about rubbing and interfering still apply, but as this is an extremely specific spanking, ‘extras’ earned will be dispensed in other undesirable ways afterward. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” she agreed an instant before the first five were searing into her perfect, round bottom. She cried out as she would normally as this part at least wasn’t so different from what she’d experienced before, the pleas for leniency not coming yet.

Five more, seemingly a bit harder, on the fresh flesh of her other cheek yielded similar results. The story hadn’t been too specific about what happened between, so Paula took some poetic license and slipped a finger between Daphne’s legs to take her temperature, so to speak. She slid her finger through her suitably wet slit a few times but also took note of some surprising stickiness in surrounding areas, Daphne only feeling the welcome presence of her expert finger.

Without warning, the next ten swats began, with tears forming during the first cheek and flowing freely by the second. Feeling like begging wasn’t proper as she’d asked for this spanking and its very specific delivery, her cries were limited to loud exclamations and declarations of how much it hurt. Believing her initial assessment regarding the accuracy of the story had her now wondering if she could actually complete it as prescribed.

Desire returns slowly once the pain has stopped and with Paula’s fingers firmly planted in and around her pussy she was squirming now for a very different reason, hoping against hope that she’d do it long enough to make her cum. Egging her on, encouraging her to continue felt like a necessity to her, but a luxury to Paula; a luxury she hadn’t earned yet, which became clear to Daphne only when she felt it coming soon, and yet was denied.

The one concession to her condition Paula allowed was a break for hydration, Daphne pouring some Chardonnay for Paula, while only taking vitamin water for herself, not wanting to dull her senses even a little for this painful experiment. Barely ten minutes later a look on Paula’s face told her it was time to resume and took Daphne by the wrist, leading her back to the lap she wasn’t quite so eager this time to lie across.

“Fifteen this time, Daphne,” Paula reminded her knowing full well she was both aware of and dreading the count of this next installment. After a few not-so-soft taps on each cheek, the paddling resumed. Despite the longer rest, the excruciating pain returned instantly, the tears following close behind which turned into loud sobbing while still on the first cheek.

While her left cheek just hurt her right was the focus now of this awful pain! No longer too proud to beg, she cried and pleaded with Paula to stop, even considering using her safeword towards the end, but like the good pain slut she was, toughed it out, her cries turning to screeches when Paula delivered the last few even harder and in quick succession.

“Holy shit, Mistress! That fucking hurt!!”

“Such a mouth! Has my pretty, little cunt forgotten about extras? There will be some now!”

“I’m sorry, Mistress! Please give your naughty slut another break? Please?! Twenty is going to be so hard to take!?”

Miss probably wouldn’t have allowed it, but Paula did, and whether due to lack of training or her empathy as a switch wasn’t clear. Again, they retreated to the kitchen for cool refreshment, which never did anything to cool whatever type of heat Daphne was feeling in her ass, especially not today. She thought ‘I’ve taken much worse, but not like this’ and doubted even more whether she could take the last twenty as the story had described.

This break was longer still with the anticipation only one of dread for the last segment. Paula could feel Daphne’s distress and decided to give her another break, but she wouldn’t tell her about it beforehand and it wouldn’t be to get a drink like this. She waited as long as she felt she could, but eventually, it was time to beat the shit out of the little whore’s ass. Daphne could see it in her face and actually made the first move back to the room.

‘Oh fuck, this is gonna hurt so much!’ she thought as she got back in position over Paula’s knee.

“Ready?” Paula asked.

“NO!” she screamed in response, the enormity of the pain she was about to feel for this stupid experiment coming out.

“Too bad!” Paula said as she began a little slower but the hardest yet with Daphne bawling her eyes out between screams in reaction to each swat! Normally when she’d roleplay with Miss, she’d have escaped in her mind, turning inward she called it, where she’d stop crying and float in another dimension, but this wasn’t roleplay, this wasn’t erotic, this wasn’t even punishment! It was just a dumbass stunt to prove a point and that she could take it. If a guy had done this, they’d call it ‘macho’.

Well, she couldn’t take it. The pain was horrendous, and she just wanted it to stop and again considered using her safeword, but her pride won out again. Just as those thoughts passed, Paula switched to the other cheek. ‘That couldn’t have been twenty!’ she thought the confusion evident despite her tear-covered face.

“I decided to change it to two groups of ten,” Paula said without any explanation and added, “with a small break between.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” she screamed as the hairbrush hadn’t ceased its attack on her already very bruised bottom, it had only switched cheeks! And it still hurt like fucking hell! And she still screamed with each swat! And she still cried, her tears pooling on the floor below her. She wasn’t counting, she trusted Paula implicitly.

Finally, the ten on her right cheek were done and Paula’s fingers were in Daphne’s cunt before she’d even realized she’d stopped. She was really going at it this time, and before long Daphne had calmed enough to enjoy it, lifting her hips, and spreading her legs as far as her position would permit to give Paula all the room she needed. While one hand pleasured her pussy the other tried valiantly to soothe the pain, even teasing her tight rosebud, the one place on her ass that didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel good either.

Daphne was rocking to the rhythm of the fingers that were fucking her faster and faster. When Paula’s other hand gave up on the hopeless task of making her butt feel better and got in the act of teasing her clit from below, she was heading quickly to a glorious climax, closer, closer, closer, and then … she stopped.

“Oh, Mistress! Please? I need to fucking cum! PLEASE!” she begged, desperately trying to get some sympathy.

“Not yet, my naughty and brave little slut! We can get up and get another drink if you like?”

“No. No … let’s just get it over with!” she said determined to carry it through to its conclusion almost immediately regretting her courage as the hairbrush resumed beating her battered backside.

It didn’t take long for her to realize that Paula had picked up the pace considerably, and though the pain was also heightened exponentially, it was over much more quickly, for her left cheek anyway. The right was no better or worse, the only salvation being the end was in sight and when the last swat fell, the hardest yet she noted, she cried uncontrollably despite Paula’s best efforts to take the sting out of her tortured cheeks with gentle petting and sympathetic kisses to her hair, neck, and tear-stained cheeks as she lay in her lap, unable yet to move.

Paula eventually helped her up and gave her a one-sided hug, as Daphne’s hands were still busy trying uselessly to rub the sting and soreness from her severely wounded bottom.

“That’s it, pet. You were a very brave, little pain slut! Let it out,” Paula soothed and encouraged as Daphne’s snotty nose and waterfall of tears smeared her sad, yet pretty face. Paula’s hands replaced Daphne’s on her discolored bottom and Daphne hugged her like a grief-stricken child. Eventually, although the crying continued it was ebbing and eventually reduced to uneven staccato breaths.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I can’t believe how much that hurt,” she cursed into Paula’s neck in mock anger subdued by Paula’s expert mothering. “If that asshole Mark were here right now, I’d punch him in the mouth!” she added her bratty nature coming through.

“Why not give him what you just got?” Paula joked as she pulled back to look in Daphne’s face.

“Nah, he’d probably like it!” she said, finally able to laugh, and reached for Paula again, who laughed as well.

“Come. Lie down,” Paula said and directed Daphne onto the side of the bed. While Paula was still a Domme in training, aftercare is something she was already exceptionally good at. Paula left her side for only a second to retrieve the jar of Arnica cream sitting ready for use on the dresser. With the jar already open, Paula sat by her shoulders while placing a large daub of the soothing cream on each cheek.

Moaning at even the little bit of relief, Daphne hugged Paula around the waist as she lovingly rubbed the soothing salve into badly bruised cheeks. Being a switch, Paula tried to imagine the ordeal Daphne had just been through and admired a true submissive who not only endured such a brutal punishment but had also set up the dubious experiment to begin with.

The cream fully absorbed into the rough texture of her still aching cheeks, Daphne looked up at Paula and invited her into her bed with extended arms offering more than just a hug and the two rolled across over entwined in each other’s arms and legs.

After a mixture of short pecks and tongue-swallowing kisses, they cupped, kissed, licked, and sucked each other’s tits, their passion building slowly. When their hands began exploring the rest of their gorgeous bodies, Daphne’s caressing of Paula’s cute, little butt turned to kneading it like bread dough, but when Paula barely touched Daphne’s aching bottom, she flinched immediately, the extreme bruising make it difficult to make that part of her body feel better.

Choosing her pussy instead, Paula’s fingers went to work again with Daphne on all fours above her, not wanting to lay on her back for obvious reasons. Fingering delicately at first and then with abandon, she poked and stroked every inch of her dripping wet slit. After slathering Paula’s perfect tits with her tongue, Daphne hummed as she sucked first her nipples, then as much as she could fit in her mouth in reaction to Paula’s fingering, convinced that this time she was going to cum, and it was going to be explosive.

Except it wasn’t. Paula stopped returning to Daphne’s firm tits instead.

“Oh, God! Please, Mistress? I need to cum! I have to …”

“Have you forgotten your extras? No, you’re not going to cum yet, my poor, little pain pet!”

“I said I was sorry! Really, I am sorry, Please?” she implored.

“And did you think I wouldn’t notice that you’d fingered yourself to an orgasm, what … an hour or two before I arrived? You know you’re not supposed to do that, you naughty, little whore!”

‘Oh shit’ Daphne thought as she knew she wouldn’t talk her way into an orgasm, so she decided to try licking her way into it, attacking Paula’s pussy with fingers and tongue as she knelt between her legs, her sorry ass high in the air. It was Paula’s turn to squirm as her cunt was virtually devoured by the hungry Daphne. Lifting her hips off the bed and pushing her sopping wet crotch into the willing face of her eager slut, she crashed into a leg-shaking climax.

Knowing that cumming only once wouldn’t be enough to soften Paula’s resolve to keep her from her own orgasm, she buried her face in the slippery wet slit again pouring every ounce of energy she had into making her cum again. Gasping aloud, Paula urged her on with all the dirty slut talk she could think of with Daphne eating it up as much as she was eating her pussy, knowing Daphne’s greedy cunt would be dripping in response as well. Paula clamped Daphne’s head between her thighs as she climbed to another peak and jumped off while pulling Daphne’s face into her creamy crotch.

Physically spent, Daphne fell onto her side facing Paula’s smiling lips, which were soon planted on hers in a loving kiss that lasted forever and was still not long enough. Smiling again as they parted, Paula turned around so that she could give Daphne a taste of what she’d just given her.

Lying on her side as well she started with her fingers sliding up those exquisite thighs oh-so-slowly, and reaching that magic place where they came together, her tongue quickly got in the act, licking those slippery wet lips splayed open by her fingers. Daphne reacted by spreading her legs as wide as she could to give her access to every steamy inch of her crotch while Paula’s tongue pushed towards what she hoped would be her magnificent end.

Not wanting to be denied again, she decided on a little insurance and slid over to push her face into Paula’s drenched pussy convinced that her tongue would ensure that Paula wouldn’t deny her again. In a sideways sixty-nine the two pussy sluts ate each other ravenously. It was a race to the finish with Daphne getting there first, but …

“No, my pretty, little thing! You can’t cum yet!” she commanded before delving back into Daphne’s slit to make it even harder to hold back.

“No! God! Please!” she cried between gasps and mouthfuls of Paula’s pussy.

“No, Daphne!” Paula practically screamed as she pulled away and exploded with another spasmodic orgasm, Daphne’s mouth still firmly attached to her cunt.

Pulling away and turning around, Paula kissed her passionately, though Daphne wasn’t responding, choosing instead to pout, having been denied yet again. Paula decided it was time to give her the release she needed so badly, but knowing she couldn’t lay on her back so that she could give her starved pussy the attention it deserved, decided the only position that made sense was with Paula on her back and Daphne above her, sitting on her face.

“Are you going to be a good, little slut?”

“Yes, Mistress! I promise!” she said softly, with hope returning to her face. Paula smiled and, moving a few inches further away, lay on her back.

“Come, my hungry little whore. Sit on my face!”

“Thank you, Mistress,” she said with a huge smile and kissed her lips and her breasts before she lifted her leg up and over Paula’s prone body moving up to just the right position where she could ride her face.

“Give it to me,” Paula said just before being smothered by Daphne’s comely cunt.

Knowing she was in control now and there was no way to be denied again, she felt she could take her time and resisted the temptation to grind Paula’s face into the bed with her craving cunt and lifted up just enough to allow her tongue to delve deeply. She knelt patiently above as Paula’s tongue started her on another climb, gyrating only slightly in response as the buzz built slowly.

Before long though, her patience ran out and her wanton need took over as she sat leaving her wet lips splayed wide over Paula’s mouth and started sliding back and forth, the face beneath her just something to grind her pussy against. From her nose to her chin, Paula provided the friction needed to drive Daphne to a supremely satisfying orgasm, her pussy literally smothering Paula as she savored the waves of pleasure passing over her.

“Holy fuck, Mistress! That was so …” but she never completed the exclamation as Paula’s tongue got busy from rimming her anus to flicking her clit while Daphne gasped in unbridled bliss holding still above her face as that magic tongue brought her quickly to another precipice that she bounded over relishing every jerk and spasm that passed uncontrollably through her.

Still Paula wasn’t finished. Knowing how many times tonight she’d made Daphne wait for this ultimate pleasure she only waited a second or two after Daphne’s body stopped shaking before penetrating her, fucking her with her tongue. Daphne’s writhing body above her, she bobbed her head up and down slamming her face into a flooded crotch to get her tongue in as deep as possible. Feeling like she could hardly take any more, Daphne accelerated the process by grabbing Paula’s head on both sides and repeatedly pounding her pussy with the juice-covered face beneath her.

Without thinking Paula put her hands on Daphne’s aching bottom, providing the spark that set off the bomb inside Daphne, who fell to her side as though from the percussion where she lay shuddering in orgasmic bliss.

Getting up, Paula reached down and pushed Daphne’s hair from her face and knelt to kiss her softly, gently, lovingly. Daphne’s eyes opened when their lips parted and pulled Paula in for more. Lying beside each other, they gradually calmed down with gentle touches to a cheek, a shoulder, waist, and thigh, wordlessly thanking each other for the incredible pleasure they’d given each other.

Daphne let Paula out the door still naked and returned to her bed feeling both sexually sated as well as proud of having endured one of the most painful hairbrush spankings ever. She remembered many times when she’d taken considerably longer and more punishing sessions with Miss, but without the erotic content of role-playing or the reality of discipline she had earned through truly bad behavior, this was just pain, excruciating agony whose only benefit was proving she was right and just a little pride in her capacity as a true pain slut.

She awoke in the morning having slept surprisingly well, the cool satin sheet she used having not irritated her still extremely sore, and thoroughly bruised bottom. She winced every time she’d touch it, but that didn’t keep her from doing so as that was one of the benefits of her bruising so easily. In this case, it didn’t remind her of an exciting BDSM session or well-deserved punishment from Miss, but the day-after physical pain and marks were the same, and considering the unwanted, horrid misery present during the delivery, she felt she'd earned the right to enjoy the aftermath as much as possible.

Over her morning coffee, she logged into the story site as she often did, but this time she was looking for messages from Mark. Her attitude towards him had softened overnight as she accepted her responsibility for the whole experiment much as she did when her naughty behavior resulted in a nasty but well-deserved spanking. He didn’t make her, nor even suggest in any way that she conduct this trial of pain. It had been completely her own idea to which he’d reacted in a protective way when she told him about it.

There was just one message from him that was sent near the end of her ordeal. ‘Thinking of you … trying to imagine what you must be feeling. You must be well into it by now.’

She smiled, thinking it sweet, his concern for her. This man she’d befriended on the site, old enough to be not just her daddy, but her grandfather was kind and respectful of her lifestyle. He didn’t understand it, probably never would, but he also didn’t question her commitment to it, nor condemn its decadence in any way as some understanding was slowly achieved. But describing herself as an ‘old soul’ she had much more in common with him than she realized, besides the mutual desire to have their bottoms painfully punished.

They had discussed music briefly, though only the unusual musical genius of Frank Zappa, but in reality, she liked many of the same hard rock bands he did, not knowing he’d been a lead singer in high school band called Mad Dog, singing Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, Cactus, and Johnny Winter songs. They had similar tastes in books, at least in the sci-fi arena, especially those that dealt with time travel. She knew how to appreciate the ageless beauty of the ’69 Camaro convertible she’d inherited and though Mark preferred old import cars, the appreciation of something powerful and beautiful at the same time was also mutual.

Remembering her anger-inspired comments about him from the night before, she felt bad about misplacing the responsibility for getting beaten as she did. She also smiled when she remembered Paula’s suggestion that as retribution, he should suffer the same fate as her and her response that he’d probably like it. She has zero desire to switch, but Paula did (although probably not with a guy) and she pictured Paula taking him over her knee to spank his bare ass with that horrible hairbrush, giving him even more than the hundred in his story. ‘He really would like it' she thought with a smile, and feeling as she did the night before she’d want to watch!

She had told him before that she’d share the result with him and sent a short simple assessment of the whole thing …

Well. It was very intense. Much more painful than expected. Brush was heavier than most of my paddles. A thin brush would have been less painful. I am deeply bruised today, but I mark very easily. I was visibly bruising before it was over. That's it

He thought her description was rather short and clinical, but when he suggested that she sounded disappointed, she LOL’d saying it was just much worse than she had expected. He concluded it confirmed he’d made the right decision to lighten the severity of the spanking in his story which prompted Daphne and another site friend to reread it and agree it sounded much more realistic.

He would have loved to have more detail on the night’s proceedings but the gentleman in him wouldn’t think of asking specific questions, despite Daphne’s ‘open book’ attitude she showed in her own ‘true tale’ stories she’d written about herself.

Mark remembered the public comment on this story where she said she would have liked to see a better description of the female emotions in the story and recognizing that a male would probably find that very difficult, he had suggested that they collaborate on a story. His inventive storylines and her steamy descriptions of the latest femme fatale would make for really good stories. She didn’t dismiss it out of hand but wasn’t feeling particularly creative lately, writing-wise and the subject was dropped, the conversation taking the unusual turn that inspired this story.

Meanwhile, he’d just read another of her stories describing in incredibly sensuous detail one of her early forays into this lifestyle she was now fully immersed in. It surprised him knowing the tight leash (pun intended) her owner, Miss, had on her revealing personal details on the site including no pictures; not even a simple portrait-style picture of her pretty face, although Daphne would probably more like to show the marks she was so proud of. It seemed extremely contradictory that she could write such deeply personal and revealing stories, and that it was somehow okay.

With the earlier suggestion of collaborating on a story in mind, he commented on his confusion in this regard and got a reply that said she didn’t mind sharing (no surprise there), but that ‘It’s complicated’. Clearly a dismissal of the subject, he didn’t pry any further but admitted the reason he’d asked.

He told her he was going to write a story about this whole fabulously arousing interaction they’d just sort of shared, but he definitely would not publish it unless she approved. He knew it would make a fascinating story that he’d love to have her input on, given his handicapped male view of the female psyche, but it would be a story only he would read if she or Miss would object in any way to submitting it to the site. He wasn’t hopeful.

She surprised him saying he could write it but still in a creative slump, doubted her input would be of value. He offered to take a stab at writing the whole thing himself, and she agreed, a comment he took as a compliment on his writing in general. He said he’d need a little detail about what happened, and he meant just a little, not wanting her to feel he was an after-the-fact voyeur.

Again, she surprised him by giving him many disjointed snippets of information about the night. He’d ask a few questions; should he use actual names or keep it anonymous? Use names. She’d thrown a number of names around, so he needed clarification on everyone’s role in it. He’d said he wasn’t going to include the ‘fun part’ after, but she openly shared some very arousing details, though again, all very disjointed, out of actual sequence, tangential information that may or may not be relevant.

Copying their communication thread into a separate document for reference and using information from her story he’d just read as well as her online profile, he set about attempting to weave it all together into what he thought would be a decidedly unique story; a sort of ‘breaking the fourth wall’ as they say in writing and theatre, into the world of this site and its authors.

He had to keep going back to the reference material to cover the details he had, while filling in the background from the other sources. He found it a very challenging but extremely stimulating, almost intoxicating process.

He wouldn’t even guess how many times he looked forward to sharing it with Daphne, sincerely hoping she’d find it as compelling as he had, but at the same time worried that she’d have second thoughts about publishing it, or worse condemn the whole thing as woefully inaccurate. Having just these quick answers and a few surprising details to use, he’d certainly had to take a lot of poetic license to make it a complete and colorful story, so he saw her dissatisfaction with it a very distinct possibility.

The best case scenario was that she’d read it, maybe share it with Paula and/or Miss, and acknowledging that he’d actually seen nothing and didn’t even know what Daphne looked like, would love the story anyway, regardless of whether the details were accurate or not. He’d certainly welcome any input on what she’d want changed or eliminated as that was what he was expecting from collaboration, but on the whole, liked it enough to reread it over time with a pleasant memory of a particularly challenging scene and the fun/sexy end result.

With the story written, Mark was proud of his interpretation of the night with its pure pain and erotic aftermath and reminded of the envy he felt for those stunned visitors to her home who’d been treated to an unexpected view of the gorgeous, naked Daphne, he now felt he was the one who should be envied as she had ‘shown’ him so much more.