Fantasy 015: Matthew

Rate This Story:

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

About the Fantasy Series

"What is your deepest, darkest, most secret fantasy?" Those words bring a chill to anyone. To reveal something so private, so personal, is difficult. Yet that's exactly what we have here. In each story, a narrator reveals his or her most private sexual fantasy. In the grand tradition of such things, it is a *fantasy* -- it may not be realistic or even physically possible. It's not necessarily something he/she would want to experience in real life, but the illusion can be appealing. But no matter how bizarre or incomprehensible, fantasies reveal something intimate about ourselves. So . . . learn and enjoy. And send me your fantasies! The Flogmaster

*** Author's Note ***
Finally, a few more Fantasies! It's been a long time since I've written any of these, but I finally finished a few that were languishing on my hard drive. I'll post them over the next month. For those of you unfamiliar with my Fantasy series, the previous fourteen are available on my website.


Fantasy015: Matthew

(***, F/M, Intense, spanking, domination, humiliation)

A man visits a spanking clinic. (Approximately 1,340 words. Originally published 1998-03.)

There are six of us waiting. I am nervous, a bit fearful, and quite embarrassed. Most are men like me. We don't look at each other directly, though we are secretly comparing and wondering about the others. Mostly we fidget and pretend to read the ancient magazines. There is one woman, an older one, haughty and quite a bitch from the way she glares at all the men as she sits away from us and does her nails.

The receptionist watches us all from behind her glass wall. She's a petite darling, cute as a college freshman, and she looks as innocent as a preacher's daughter. I wonder what she thinks of us. Does she assume we're all freaks and perverts? Does she wonder who we are in our real lives, away from this place? She gives no clue, munching away on her gum and flashing bright teeth.

Suddenly the door opens and a tall woman in a stark white uniform stands in the doorway. The skirt is short and tight, revealing long, sleek legs and a curvy hips. Her white vest is slightly opened and I catch a hint of full, round breasts. The woman's blond hair is pulled up in a bun behind her head and her strict face is sharp, angular, and coldly beautiful. She looks like a cross between a nurse and an attorney.

Her eyes drift across the room, glaring equally at everyone. A chill passes through each of us men. In her right hand she holds a coiled black leather whip.

She studies a clipboard. "Matthew Brock?"

Slowly I stand. My stomach's in knots.

"You can come on back now."

The relief of the others is almost audible. I follow the woman without a word. I do not look back as the door shuts firmly behind me.

The hallway is white, everything anticeptically clean. The place is cold. I shiver. The woman's high heels click loudly on the white tile. I cannot take my eyes off the round curves of her ass as I walk behind her. After several turns we enter an empty room, white like everything else.

"Strip," she says. I hesitate. "Everything. Now."

The whip moves slightly, and I need no further encouragement. Quickly I begin to undress. I remove my shoes, socks, pants, shirt, and finally, my underwear. The woman's expression does not change. When she sees I am naked, she motions to the door.

Back in the hallway I am even more aware of the chill. As trained, I have my hands on my head, elbows out. The woman walks behind me, the clicking of her heels unnerving. I know she is watching my ass. I blush, wondering what she is thinking.

"Left," she says, and I obey. She directs me as though I am an animal, unable to decide anything on my own. We reach a door and she has me enter.

The room is large, open, and it echoes like a sounds in a metal drum. Along the far wall is a series of stainless steel shower heads. She nods toward them. "Would you like half your spanking before your shower and half after, or all after."

I lick my lips. "Half and half, please."

The only piece of furniture in the room is a large armless chair directly across of the showers. She sits, delicately placing the whip and clipboard on the floor. I stand by her side, my naked cock pointed near her eye-level. She looks at it and it stiffens under her gaze. Her cold eyes reach mine and I shudder. She pats her lap and I go over.

Dangling awkwardly over her lap, my hands braced against the floor to keep me from tumbling forward, I cannot help but feel humiliated and ridiculous. Above me I hear the woman snapping on a leather glove. Her hand touches my ass gently, squeezing the cheeks, and then feeling my crack. A finger nudges my anus and I flush in shame.

"If you stain my skirt, Matthew, I will whip you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I you are ready to release please tell me and I will let you up. Be aware that you will be punished, but it will be nothing compared to what will happen if you soil my skirt."

A little shiver passes through me. I cannot bear this much longer. The woman's hand is rubbing my ass. My cock is ready to explode and she hasn't even begun. I pray for pain, lots of it, and quick. It is the only thing that will save me.

I get my wish. The woman's hand is very strong, and she spanks me very fast and hard. For a minute I forget about my cock and concentrate on the hot stinging flooding my rear. After the first dozen I can breathe again, and after the second my ass is so warm and feels so good my cock begins to revive. But the third dozen begins to feel uncomfortable. By the time she starts the fourth dozen I am in great pain, wiggling and moaning in scarcely audible begging.

She stops after the fourth dozen. I scramble to my feet. After a quick bow to the woman, I head for the showers. The water's icy, as I expected, and the thin spray feels like needles against my skin. But I go completely under it, washing my body carefully as the woman watches. She directs me, occasionally, telling me my cock looks dirty, or I need to clean between my legs. She does not move from her chair, but sits stiffly and watches me.

Finally my shower is finished, and I emerge from the water and stand with my hands on my head, dripping onto the tile floor.

"You are very wet," murmurs the woman. Slowly she stands. "I do not wish to ruin my clothing." I watch, mesmerized, as she unbuttons her blouse. She wears no bra. Her skirt drops to the floor and she steps out of it. The blouse follows it to the floor. Except for her high heels, she is naked. She is gorgeous, so much so that I can scarcely bear to look at her.

She sits and pats her lap. In seconds I'm in position again, my cock already stiffening between her legs. She scolds me gently, reminding me of the penalty for soiling her "skirt."

The spanking is even harder this time, and it is all I can do to remain under control. The pain is intense, but it is the position that unnerves me. The humiliation of being treated so childishly. Tears of shame sting my eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the blurry naked breasts of the woman bouncing as she slaps my ass. I can smell her delicious, womanly scent. My cock, stiff between her sleek thighs, aches to be a little closer, some place with a little more friction.

Suddenly the build-up is there -- I can feel it. "Please, Ma'am," I say. She ignores me, spanking me harder and faster. I gasp, becoming desperate. My cock is swelling. I shout: "I'm going to come!"

"Don't you dare!" she cries, her hand flashing down again. The sting reverberates through me, filling me with wild abandonment. With a sigh I let myself go. It is what she wants anyway, I know that. I spurt all over her legs, white streams of semen oozing everywhere.

"You little brat!" she screams at me. She rises, lifting me to my feet. "I'm going to whip you for that."

I nod. I'd expected nothing less. But it had been worth it.

The End

Rate This Story: