Monday. A message from her on WhatsApp. “On Wednesday, can you whisper what you want to do? You must tell me something dirty where I work. Please.”

The exciting early stages together. Seven weeks of dating, a handful of hot and heavy evenings discovering each other’s bodies and minds. Uncovering her longstanding love of spanking and a desire for unexplored levels of submission, matched by my willingness to dominate her, to make her my petite and pliant plaything, to take us to places neither of us has been. 

I pay attention. I have noted the moments where she exposes her turn-ons. I know exactly what to say, how it will set her mind racing and pussy throbbing, and how to deliver a unique experience on our weekend date. 

Wednesday. My first visit to her workplace, waiting for her to arrive and….damn, she looks good. She has dressed to please me, and please me she has. Slender frame wrapped in a tight jumpsuit, a low-cut keyhole front means no bra and sideways glimpses of her small, perky tits from the right angle. I want her. We can’t spend tonight together, but I wish we could. Never mind, tonight we set the scene. Make her wet. Ensure she thinks of little else until the weekend.

We find a secluded corner of the rooftop bar. A perfect opportunity to cuddle up, kiss deeply and make up for the ten days since we last touched. An instant rekindling, a fire burning low through daily messages and flirtations, suddenly ablaze with lips and hands everywhere. We sate ourselves, then my voice low and firm in her ear, “Are you ready to hear what I’m going to do to you?” Her heart races as I spell out enough to tease, not to spoil. Audible gasps and surprise at how much I can intuit. I guide her hand to the reassuring bulge in my trousers to let her know how much I want this. 

Saturday. She kneels on a rug in her lounge diner. Her first time kneeling for me, perhaps for anyone, at least in this context. Heavy symbolism for a good Catholic girl being bad. Black lace-topped fishnet stockings encase slim legs. A tiny, sheer black bra and thong. All matching her raven hair, contrasting memorably with her delicate, porcelain skin. And her big beautiful eyes wide open with the thrill of it all.

I make her wait patiently while I collect the restraints and paddle from the bedroom, laying them on the table very deliberately next to her. I pull an armchair right in front of her, take a seat, meet her upturned eyes with mine, and reiterate what I told her, plus the rules of the game. 

“I noticed three things from our first encounters. Firstly, I saw how excited you were when you caught a glimpse of me spanking you in the mirror, and commented on how you love seeing my muscles flex with effort”.

“Secondly, when you had your negligee around your waist and my fingers deep in your pussy, you said that this image would be your memory of the night, but you couldn’t see what I saw.”

“And finally, in the fantasy story you sent me last week, you were bent over in front of a mirror, with me behind you.”

“Therefore, tonight you are going to see what I see. I want you to see my power as much as you feel it when I spank you. And I want you to see what it looks like to be my plaything, my doll to pose and play with for my pleasure and yours”.

“I’m going to bend you over in front of that mirror and spank you hard. I want you to focus on my expression, my arm as I strike you, and your reaction. Then I will turn you around and show you what it looks like to be fingered roughly, just the way you love it. Then I will spank you some more from another angle so you can see everything I see, everything I enjoy.”

Eyes Manga big now, body quivering with excitement. This is new. This is fucking hot. I continue. “I’m going to remind you of the rules. No demanding anything. You can ask, if you ask nicely, then maybe you get. You can definitely beg. Do you understand?”

A nod. “Yes, sir. I do.” I help her to her feet, turn her around to unhook her bra, then order her to remove the thong. And there she is, topped and tailed with tousled tresses and terrific legs. “OK, doll, you can take off my clothes now.” She unbuttons my shirt slowly, helps me ease it off, and drops to her knees again. A look at my black patent leather belt and an unexpected question. “Can you use the belt on me later?” Well, it’s a change of plan, but I like it. A good question to ask. I give my assent as she unbuckles it, unfastens my jeans and helps me step out of them. 

One more thing. I take the restraints from the table and attach them tightly to her wrists one by one. “I want these in front of you for now, so you can see them in the mirror.” And with that, I use them to pull her close in front of the full-length mirror, forcefully pulling her arms in the air by the restraint clips to assert my control. 

Standing behind her, I hold them in place. The other hand roams slowly…slowly…slowly down her arm, over her shoulder, fingertips trailing down to her breast, resting and kneading a moment before sliding over her stomach. Into the crevice between groin and thigh, close enough to raise a moan, then further onto the delightful point where soft skin meets stocking tops. She loves this full-length body touch, staring straight ahead as my hand traces her contours. Back up again, perilously close to her pussy, but holding back. “Please touch me, please!” But this is my show, my rules. She knows the outline, but not how it will happen.

Our senses are on fire. I can see, feel, hear, and even smell her need. The desperation in her eyes, the tremors under my touch, the pleading tone and animal moans, her sweat and scent. She is ready.

I pick up a stool from the breakfast bar next to us, place it close to the mirror, yank her round behind it and bend her over. Her captive hands inches from her reflection, facing her own wild-eyed expression, the smooth surface of the leather seat cold and hard on her belly, and an expressive, “Ohhhhh” as it all sinks in, and I position myself behind her. 

“I want you to count to ten,” I order. This is also new, a little extra frisson. And then I go hard with my hand, palm cupped for maximum impact and sound. I told her she would see and feel the power, and I meant it. “One…Two…Fuck…Three…Oh god that’s hard…Four”. I target where buttock meets the thigh, aiming to send quivers right into her sweet spot. “Five…aaahh….Six.” No let up, every strike hard and true. She watches my focused face, my fierce hand fall, watches herself take it, sees the pain and pleasure cross her beautiful face. Shock, surprise, discomfort, delight - all of it visible centimetres away. 

We make it to ten. I pause, rub her red ass and give her a moment. “Fuck…I’ve never been spanked that hard before.” A pause. A beseeching look. “Please, sir, may I have another ten?” My doll. She passes every test. 

We go again. Left hand in the small of her back for control and balance, right hand like a metronome going from cheek to cheek. Unyielding. Consistent. I make sure she will remember this. Marks on her ass fade, marks in her memory don’t. She wriggles and writhes every time, exhorts and implores me for more. 

My hand aches and tingles from the force. That’s enough for now. Spanking her always feels like charging a battery. The energy I put in builds inside her. She has an unmistakably raw, sexual aura at any time, with a spanking, she feels primed, ready to detonate when she demands my fingers, tongue or cock. I love playing with her fire.

I pull her up and she tells me how much she loved my expression as I spanked her, the determination and focus. She is sore, and she is ready for a dose of pure pleasure. Arousal crackles in her eyes. 

She has no idea what’s next. I move the stool away and pull the armchair over in its place. Designer, low slung, cream cushions and wooden arms. I have had this vision in my mind for days; it’s time to bring it to life. 

She’s my doll and she knows it. She wants it. I sit her down so her ass is square in the middle of the chair. With one hand, I hoist her arms back over her head and hold them by the restraints. With the other, I splay her legs over each armrest. 

She is wide open, half a metre from the mirror. Spanking makes her wet; her freshly waxed pussy lips part in anticipation. I pull her wrists behind her head so I can kneel next to her. “Just see how hot you look,” I whisper low and firm. She concurs, stunned at seeing herself spread out in this manner. 

My free hand wanders across her, tweaking her nipples, running the length of each leg from bottom to top, fingers inching closer to where she wants them. “Fuck….please?”  

One finger, a gasp as I push inside gently, followed by another, curving upwards to caress her G-spot. An exclamation in her husky, most turned on tone. “Oh god, it’s so hot, I didn’t think it would look like this.”

She watches transfixed. I pump my fingers in and out, pull harder on the restraints to remind her of my total control. So hot, so wet, so wanton. Squeals fill the air as another finger slides in. Three now, a greater force and faster. Pleasure building, body writhing, and ass lifting off the chair to meet the pumping. Incredible intensity, yet a tenderness and care in giving this moment to each other. 

I feel how close she is. Thumb on clit to add another level, build and build and build until… we have lift-off. ”Yes! Oh god, yes!” Her back arches and legs tense, but she can’t move far. I keep a firm grip on her wrists and my fingers deep inside until she is too sensitive and needs to wriggle free.

We kiss hard. That was something else. Yet we’re not done. I pull her up again, unclip the restraints and clip them together behind her back. I swap the chair for the stool and push her over, facing the other direction, ass facing the mirror. 

Bent over the stool, she can see herself upside down in the mirror. Her yoga-honed legs in fishnet tights make for a stunning sight. For the first time, she sees her reddened ass and freshly finger-fucked puffy pussy lips. “Oh wow. This is….obscene!” I run my hands all over each cheek, compliment her on her taut buttocks, let her know how much I appreciate every inch of her. 

What a sight to behold. The view I’m lucky to have every time, hers to take in anew. I commence a purposeful spanking, ensuring every shockwave sears into her psyche. The eroticism of unifying our perspective is not lost on either of us. I feel our minds tangling together, connections forming and deepening with every contact. 

Rosy and ruddy now, yet still ready for more. A deal is a deal. I remember what she asked and retrieve the belt from my jeans on the floor. I wrap the buckle in my fist and coil it around my wrist a couple of times. Then….thwack. It takes a few goes to work out the correct distance, speed and cadence. 

Black leather on her stomach, black leather on her ass with each stroke. More confident with practice, more noise as satisfying sounding cracks and their subsequent yelps fill the air. Thin welts appear. Not hard enough to mark for long, but different to my hand, another layer on top of the spanking glow. 

The pattern develops and spreads until eventually it’s enough, and I have one more visual and sensual treat for her. I spin her around, position her sensitive buttocks back on the stool, push her legs apart and kneel down in front of her. I love the taste of her, the sensation of perfectly plucked satiny skin on my tongue. My turn to kneel, for her to watch me in my work with a fresh perspective. 

I never go straight to her clit. I nip and bite the soft skin of her inner thighs, outer labia, lick around and over and left and right. I hear her delight as she watches me weave my way around her pussy before I plunge in and put my tongue to work up and down her slit, hone in and focus on the movements that I know bring her the most pleasure. 

Eventually, she is happy and spent. We both are. So much newness. Fresh and unforgettable memories. Her sexuality and desire for submission inspired me to invent this moment; this is everything I hoped for and so much more. She has seen everything I wanted her to see and responded exactly as I hoped. And we have one very red and sore-looking pair of buttocks to look after. 

The restraints come off. Tender kisses and caresses commence, an immediate balm to ease us down from on high. We retreat to bed for cuddles, care and erotic, entwined, eye-locked sex. Replay and review what we saw, how we felt. It was a lot. It was just right.