Wonderful Story that I read online
She has been spanked to tears. Her eyes glisten as they break the banks of her eyelashes and course down her cheeks, her face contorted as her lips part wide, her will temporarily broken by the stern forces applied directly to her bright red bottom.
She cries because she can no longer contain herself. She can no longer control her response to the disciplinary pain. But her tears are not her own. Her tears are mine too. I have coaxed them forth and to me they are precious. They call on an ancient predatory instinct that demands total domination and just for a little while, we let that old shadow stalk around us, we dance with the darkness that lies within us both, a shadow thrown by the flickering flame of trust.
I can make her cry. I can make her shriek. I can slap those bouncing cheeks until her wailing echoes off the walls. Her tears are a sign of physical submission that runs below the skin. She has given herself up and her flesh is willing and pliant. It reddens for me. It weeps for me. Even her breath catches between each stroke as her body forgets itself and follows my bidding.
The barrier between us grows ever thinner, with each and every tear drop we draw closer, I in her, she in me. |