Over the Moon

27Jan15

moons“Are you going to beat me?” she said apprehensively and biting on her lower lip.

Carly looked almost childlike when she adopted such a pose, her cascade of red-brown hair falling in ringlets over her greenish doe-eyes amid a heart shaped face. It was set well on a fully fleshed body that was buxom enough to her waist before flaring into full generous hips.

“I wish you wouldn’t use that word,” he said gruffly, trying hard not to smile.

David folded his arms to regard his little hoyden of a wife standing head shoulders bellow his gaze. His loose white cotton shirt was still bedraggled from the beach, hastily pilled on over knee-length black shorts giving him an almost 18th century gentleman at leisure look, an image complimented by the lion-like mane of tousled dark hair. He had hastily dressed after looking up and seeing Carly halfway up the cliff face and had run all the way, so had ended a hitherto pleasant day at the beach.

“Well,” she pouted, rocking gently at the hips and adding to the little girl lost look, “spanking,” she said it tentatively as if the very word could bite her, “is so childish,” she continued, adding, “Besides, I would hardly call it a s-spanking when you use that big stick of yours.”

“It’s not so big, and sometimes it takes a switch or a cane to get through to you and make it stick,” he ignored the accidental pun.

But she giggled and made to poke her tongue out at him.

“Well, are you going to beat me?” she asked again.

He looked uncomfortable and scanned the cobbled road running above the beach. Porthcoe was too small a place for indiscretion and he they had been coming here for years.

“What were you doing on the cliff?” he hissed.

She shrugged and made another pout. This time she looked at her feet and said, “Looking for eggs, we always did it as kids.”

“Eggs,” he said sharply and too loudly. “Gull eggs?”

An old man leaning on the wall by the slipway unsucked his pipe and glanced their way.

“I wasn’t going to take any,” Carly said defensively.

“That is the kind of… that behaviour is why your father made me promise to give you a spanking whenever you needed it,” he said, now exasperated.

She blushed and wondered if the old man had heard. Somehow telling people proudly that her husband beat her was way cooler than admitting that she was spanked. It didn’t occur to her how that might sound.

“So you are going to beat me?” she said ruefully with yet another pout.

David looked sharply at the old man who was definitely listening by now and glowered.

“No, I am going to take you home and give you damn good spanking and on your bare bottom,” he added as if he ever did it any other way. “And if you give me any nonsense I’ll do it right here.”

“You wouldn’t,” Carly gasped in genuine dismay.

The old man chuckled suddenly and replaced the pipe in his mouth to hide his amusement. The water in the bay now seemed to absorb all his interest.

David seized Carly gently by the arm and began walking back to their cottage up on the headland. This time her furious blushing was her only resistance. In a few short minutes they had ascended the path and the village looked like a handful of small white models dotted along a Hornby beach and they stood in the small garden of their white stone cottage.

He had spanked her out here before now and soundly. Such times had been meant to embarrass her, although they had been safely carried out away from the eyes of their Porthcoe neighbours. But the occasional hiker on the cliff path may have had the odd eyeful, especially when Carly had stood corner time in the yard and not the house.

David regarded her sternly and made no attempt to open the black painted cottage door.

“I’m sorry, I know I deserve it, but not here again, please,” she whispered urgently.

David eyed the rugged track that lead past their cottage and then the coast path on the clifftops nearby. This was obscured by gorse, but they were not entirely invisible if anyone lingered there. He growled and pulled her inside.

Once through the door Carly tumbled haplessly and unresisting across his lap as he sat down, certain now that her modesty and dignity were largely safe.  But it was still embarrassing to have her loose cotton skirt rucked over her back and her pale cotton briefs slid slickly down her thighs.

Her bare bottom was full and vulnerable in his lap now, a tight spilt of curves and full creamy firm softness. This exposure left Carly’s face hot and in direct contrast to the mild chill caressing her behind. She feared the slipper now or the hairbrush; he never used a stick in this posture.

An age went by as she squirmed to the sound of their combined breathing.

“What you did was reckless, dangerous and showed a complete disregard for the wildlife,” he scolded her angrily.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice tinged with expectant sadness.

The weight of his strong thighs pressed into hers like an accusation and she felt small like a kitten curled in a basket. Then his hand smacked down hard and stung her to the core. There were three or four more of these before she could even blink and by then a fire defined the space between flesh meeting flesh.

Carly bit down hard and clutched at the air as she began to ride it, but a minute later even breathing was an effort and she made groaning noises at each impact.

“I ought to take picture after and make you send it with a letter to your father,” he growled as he spanked.

This strange threat was a reference to his discovery years before that Carly sent little cards to her sister reporting each every spanking. He had been furious and had punished her soundly for the indiscretion. But Carly had thrilled at the admission of what she always insisted was beastly unwelcome treatment. Not that her sister was ever fooled.

The words were a catalyst now and she relaxed into some measure of penitent tears. The spanking really stung her now and was to do so for several long minutes. Once she was sure there was nothing she could do or say to bring her punishment to an end she allowed herself to beg.

“David… ahh, David,” she gasped, sounding ever more shrill. “Please…”

His hand and most of his lower arm ached; even his palm was a little sore. Not that it was as sore as Carly’s bottom. That was raw and pricked all over with reaction goosebumps, a sure sign of throbbing tightness.

“You know where the corner is,” he said at last.

“I need… I need to…” she said breathlessly, now dizzy with it all, but even as she made feeble protests she obeyed.

He hated that his prick throbbed, but it was a promise between them that duty always came before pleasure. Or to put it another way, he thought with a bitter smirk, corner time at his pleasure before either of them came.

Carly wondered if anyone from the coast path could see in their windows. If they could then they would see a penitent woman standing bare-bottomed in the corner having a little cry. The idea thrilled her and she indulged a fantasy that everyone on the village would know she had been soundly spanked like a naughty girl. Well spanked and not beaten, she decided, he really should have spanked her on the slipway by the beach just to teach her the difference. She blushed some more.

Sometime later he released her and then poured himself a drink. When he turned around she was there with a stick. It was the thin one, as slim as her little finger and near three feet long. She hated it and always sincerely begged when he produced it.

“Two sins requires…” she licked her lips and swallowed hard before whispering, “Please Sir, you know I deserve it.”

He nodded and then took the nasty wand from her proffered fingers. Then he looked over at the padded settee under the window. Carly glanced out at the evening gloom and scoured the bushes for hidden eyes, but so what… she sighed and without further orders bent over the heavy scroll arm of the furniture. This served to present her well-reddened bottom to further correction and she squirmed with the thought of it.

David eyed her bottom with something like hunger and then glanced out at the rising moon over the sea. Low to the horizon it was large and red, much like Carly’s offered rounds and he flexed the rod. Then with a moment’s consideration he closed the curtains.

“I’m sorry David,” Carly sighed.

“I know,” he replied and drew a line of fire across her bare bottom.

She screamed in release and then again until it sounded as if a she-wolf was baying at the moon.



5 Responses to “Over the Moon”

  1. 1 Amy

    Beautifully written. Thank you!

  2. Sir T doesn’t like the words “beat” och “hit” either. I agree that those words don’t sound much like the love that’s behind a spanking, no matter how sound or severe. Hand spankings are my favourite and I loved it that Carly is so obedient. Your other lasses tend to be more rebellious and it’s nice with a more kindred soul, so to speak 😉 Even more so as she I howls like a wolf and I got a thing fore those wonderful creatures. I also love that David is so human, gentle, understanding, stern and lustful all in the same person. In a word, great piece of work!

  3. 3 DJ

    Thanks for the comment 🙂

  4. I really enjoyed the story! Thank You!


  1. 1 chross.blogt.ch

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