Skip to main content

REALLY sorrrrry!


“I’m so, so sorry”, she said.

His face was unmoved. He did not look angry, just, hard.

“I’m SO sorry, she said again.”

He walked forward, and he was very close. He didn't seem like a big guy, but this close, he seemed to loom over her.

“Sorry”, she said, very quietly.

“So you say”, he said.

Then his hand was behind her head, stroking.

It slid to her breast, and he began to feel it, gently, finding the nipple with his index finger.
She froze, not knowing what to do. She was trying to say something, but no words were coming.
‘I’ll need a FULL apology”, he said.

She was trembling. The hand moved and she could feel it inside her skirt, rubbing her panties. Up, and a finger on the waistband. All while staring directly into her eyes.

“I don't have time for the full apology at present”, he said. His hand slid into her panties, and deliberately to her pussy.

“But I'll expect it this evening. Come to my home at 7:00.”

She gasped when the finger made its way inside her. She also noticed, surprised, how wet she had become.

“7:00”, he said, and he was on his way. “Sorry”, she squeaked, not knowing what else to say.

At 7:00, she had been standing in front of the door for a LONG time, not sure why she was there, not able to knock, not able to go home.

She kept putting her hand up, then thinking the better of it, turning to go home, then back to the door.
Shaking, she knocked, then almost ran, but the door opened, and he stood quietly, waiting for her to come in.

She walked into the room and began speaking quickly. She was saying something about how she was sorry, but he needed to know that she was not going to

“Stand over there”, he said, and she saw he was gesturing at a file box on the floor. She began to speak again, and he said “over there”, quite firmly, but not loudly.

She stood by the file box, and he sat in a kitchen chair some distance in front of the box. She was trying to speak again.

“Look, I'm sorry”

“Are you?”, he asked

“Yes, I’m”

“Take the lid off the box”, he said. She was afraid of what might be in there, but there was nothing in the box. She put the lid on the floor.

“Put your shoes in the box”, he said. He was looking right into her eyes again.

“What, my shoes?”

“Put your shoes in the box”, he said again.

She took off a shoe, and put it in the box. She was not sure why she was doing this. The next shoe joined it, and she could feel herself trembling again.

“I just came to apologize”, she said, “I”

“This will be a FULL apology”, he said.

“Unbutton your blouse, and put it in the box.”

Again, she was trying to say something. Her face was red, but her hands were unbuttoning.

She heard her own voice saying please, “I’m sorry, please.” Softly, over and over. “Please, I'm sorry.”

She knew what he would say, but it was a jolt when he said it.

“The bra”, he said, “put it in the box.”

She was weak in the knees, she felt cold, and flushed at the same time. There was no reason she should not grab her clothes and run.

She unhooked the bra, and took it off with great hesitation, but it went into the box.

“Good”, he said. This was the first positive thing he had said since she had tried to apologize earlier, and she was surprised at how it made her feel. She was tingling, suddenly.

“Put the skirt in the box”, he said. She complied quickly, this time, not sure why.

She could feel she was quite wet. She knew where this was going. She was terrified of where this was going, and also eager.

He made her wait for a minute, while he looked her over. The panties, she was thinking, when is he going to ask for the panties, then shocked at herself for desiring that.

“Put the panties in the box”, he said.

Her fingers were around the waistband, and then, closing her eyes, she slid the panties off.

She put them in the box, being very aware of his eyes on her as she bent over to put them in.

“Put the lid on.”

She did that, then paused. She stood up, and began to speak again.

“Look, I'm really, really sorry”

“Walk over here and stand in front of the chair.”

She was hesitating again, but she did it, reluctantly.

“Look, I'm really sorry, but”

“Then you are ready to make a full apology”, he said. His face was at eye level with her breasts, but she could see he was looking more in the direction of her pussy. She was so wet, it was almost ready to drip onto her legs.

He was standing, he took her hand and lead her to the couch. She followed and said not a word. He sat. She tried to sit also. “No”, he said, “lie across my lap, face down.”

“This was too much”, she thought. The file box was there, she would grab her clothes, and march.

She lay across his lap.

“Are you sorry?”

“Yes”, she said in a little voice.

“Good”, he said. Then his hand slapped her butt hard.

She yelped.

“Say you're sorry”, he said.

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry”. He spanked her again.

“Keep saying it.”

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry.” The spanking continued. But, while she would have thought she would be feeling shame and fear, it was only when he was satisfied, and the spanking complete that she felt suddenly upset. Was this it?

Her pussy was completely wet. She couldn't bear the idea of putting her clothes on and going home.
His hand was stroking her butt. It began to move closer and closer to the place she suddenly longed for it to be.

“Stand”, he said. She was not sure what to think, but she stood.

His hand stroked her chin, then her shoulder, then her breast. He pinched a nipple. She trembled again, and drew in her breath.

The hand was sliding up her thigh. Playing with her clit. Fingers inside her.

“Are you really sorry?”, he asked

“Yes, really, really sorry.”

“Kneel.”, he said.

She knelt.

“Close your eyes.”

She closed them.

She could hear him unhooking his belt. Hear him unzipping his pants. Hear them slide to the floor.
“Open your mouth”, he said.

When the cock pushed into her mouth, he didn't need to tell her anything else. As she sucked it greedily, he stroked her hair.

The cum gushed down her throat.

She knelt in silence for a while.

“Don't do it again”, he said.

Somehow, she thought, maybe she WOULD do it again.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fresh Every Day

Before the great Bryce Lloyd fire of '15 (not an actual fire), on the ancient version of this blog, I wrote an essay. I wrote many actually, and many were lost in the (not literal) fire.

Two of these were such that keenly feel their loss, and I remember them with fondness, and also sadness.

What follows is an effort to recapture one of these again here, because I feel as if it had an enduring value, at least to me. We shall see about that.

When I was first married, I was drawn to symbols of permanence: gold rings, diamonds (which are not really forever) and things, in general, that seemed an unchanging touchstone that could represent the eternal.

These symbols, perhaps, were manifestations of my insecurity, but they also embodied an ideal: they were physical representations of a lasting love that could, and would, survive the years. I think that it is an image and an idea that society presents and we consume, unthinkingly, but it also did resonate with my own image and understanding…

Ceremony

It is difficult to explain how they got here.
Long ago, it felt like long ago but really it was not, she had asked him whether he had a collar that she could wear during what had become very their very kinky sex and romance. It seemed of a piece with the cuffs and straps and leather implements, creating a mood and providing one more means of restraint.
"Collars are not toys", he had said, "at least not to me. There are some who treat them that way, as a plaything or as fashion. But I am among the people who give them significance."
At the time, she had remembered hearing about collaring as something that people did, and that it symbolized submission or slavery, or, well, she wasn't certain. What she knew for certain was that this was a topic that she had, a moment ago, had less than no interest in, and he had said a few words and she was suddenly eager to hear more.
That kind of thing seemed to keep happening with him.
So she had asked what that significance w…

The Position

The skin of your back. The muscles in your shoulders. The ridge of your spine. The curve of your waist. The soles of your feet.

The arch of your torso. The rhythm of your breath. The glistening of your sweat. The grace of your neck. The color of your hair.
The shiver in your movements. The sighs from your chest. The force of your heart. The relaxation of your body. The ecstasy of your surrender.