Thirteen Spanks

With Frolicon coming up soon, I figured I’d share with you a moment from the title story in Baker’s Dozen, which I premiered at Frolicon… um… 2018? I think?

Mason took a long, slow breath, and let it out. “Okay. I’m trusting you.” Which, he knew, was a dumb thing to do. He’d literally just met this woman for the second time — and the first really didn’t count — and they were about to do a kink scene in the back of her minivan, hidden in a parking lot. Mason had done some semi-public backseat spankings over the years, but this was far beyond anything like that.

On the way over, they’d negotiated, but Cee’s side came down to, basically, “you can do whatever feels right. I’ll stop you if I don’t want to.”

“What about sexual stuff?” A few days prior he’d very circumspectly asked if she had anything STI-related he need to know, and hadn’t that been a fun chat. But it was necessary. “I know we talked about it, and we were maybe going to try tomorrow if we still wanted to after I spanked you.” He picked his way carefully around that part of the discussion — he had almost no self-confidence when it came to people being attracted to him, and even though Cee had assured him, while they’d been texting, that she didn’t care how big he was, he still worried.

“If you think it’s a good idea,” she’d said, “go ahead. I can say no if I don’t want it.”

At that, and at her statement that she was sure she wanted to play, his frenzy had threatened to send him into orbit. But he controlled himself and carefully climbed back to one of the captain’s chairs in the second row. “All right,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

Cee set the parking brake, undid her seatbelt, and made her way back to him. Unbidden she pushed his thighs apart and knelt between them, and he cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Last chance to say no before we start,” he said. “You can say it for any reason. I promise it’s okay.”

“I…” She swallowed, clearly fighting the urge to run. “I want to. I want to try. I don’t want to wait.”

He nodded. And then, as he’d told her he’d do back when they’d been first chatting, he pulled her up and over his lap. She couldn’t possibly weigh more than 115 pounds, and he was plenty strong enough to position her where he wanted her.

“You want it hard, Cee?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice sounded strange, but then, she was bent over his knee, her head close to the floor of the van. “I want it hard, sir.” She took a shaky breath. “Really hard.”

Normally Mason didn’t start out at full intensity. Normally he built his play partners up to that. But Cee had told him how she wanted it, and had been very clear before they’d met that she’d never trusted anyone enough to do that. 

She trusted him.

And that was why Mason slammed his palm across the seat of Cee’s shorts, full force, following through.

She let out a shout and pulled in a gasp, and Mason spanked her again, the CRACK! of impact loud even in the mostly-carpeted interior of the minivan.

On the third spank, Cee let out a broken howl, but she didn’t tell him to stop. She didn’t use a safeword; she didn’t try to get away. She just let herself go, still draped over Mason’s knee, and as he spanked her again, and again, and again, she started to sob.

Mason paused after the sixth swat. “Cee? You okay?”

“Y… yeah.” Her voice was breathy. “It just hurts, is all.”

“Of course it hurts. I’m spanking you as hard as I can.” He tried to make it sound light, but it didn’t quite land.

Cee sniffed hard. “Keep going,” she said. “I’m okay.”

Mason shook his head slightly. No one had ever wanted him to keep going after a few of those kinds of spanks. The fact that Cee did made his whole body ache, and he surreptitiously adjusted himself to keep his sudden erection out of the way.

And then, before he could think too hard about it, he landed six more spanks, as hard as he could, in rapid-fire succession, his hand big enough to cover half her ass each time. She broke into sudden, body-shaking cries — the sort of “waaaaahh” that writers try to communicate with all sorts of onomatopoeias but never quite manage to do so. 

Mason drove one final, brutally-intense spank right into the center of Cee’s ass, and then, without warning, pulled her up and gathered her into his lap.

She clutched his shirt, buried her face in his chest, and cried harder than anyone he’d ever spanked before.

I mean, the story’s called “Baker’s Dozen”, so of course there are going to be 13 spanks in it. I mean, there are more, but you’ll have to read the whole story to find out just how many.

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