The Princess and the Spanking

When a princess commands you to spank her are you going to refuse?

This is one of my favourite spanking stories, light and humorous and very, very sexy - just perfect for a midweek lift. I published a teaser to it last year but now I’m releasing the complete story free to read.

Once upon a time, no that can’t be right. A long time ago in a castle far far away. “What? Get on with it. Yes Ma’am. Don’t call you that. OK, you dirty little slut princess.”

She’s standing with her dress pulled up to her waist and her lacy knickers almost around her knees.

“Get on with it Rodalot,”

“It’s Roderick, Milady,”

“That’s not what I hear from my ladies in waiting, hung like an oversized krakauer and spanks like a demon I believe was the comment I overheard.”

“Look, it’s no fun being a Princess, especially when you are the youngest of five girls. My chances of being kissed awake let alone rogered by a handsome prince charming are nil.” She wriggles her butt provocatively. “So I intend to have some fun before I get married off to an ageing Duke or some smelly prince from a neighbouring kingdom. My ladies were giggling about your spankings taking their fucking to another level so bloody well get on with it.”

I bring the palm of my hand down hard on the left cheek of one of the cutest bared behinds I’ve seen. The flesh that looked so taught ripples away from my hand.

“Ow,” she squeaks, “Again.”

“That,” I bring my palm down onto the other cheek, “Is not,” another smack, “how it works.” Her bottom is already turning pink and I add to the colour with another hard whack that makes my hand tingle.

She gasps, mouth open wide, sucking in air and then turns and smiles, “No Sir.”

I try to hide my grin. That is probably the first time in her life she has called anyone Sir.

“That’s better. You are being punished because you are arrogant, self-centred and pompous.”

Which, of course, she was entitled to be, being a princess.

For a moment she fixed me with a glare that said, ‘How dare you’, but it faded and she looked down at the floor.

“In short, you are a stuck-up, slutty little bitch.”

I unclipped my leather belt, slid it from my waistband and folded it in two.

She bent over and put her hands on her knees and the glowing skin of her behind tightened.

I swung the belt and it wrapped itself neatly around the two beautiful cheeks.

“Aaah,” her head jerked up and her crown wobbled. She brought a hand up to straighten it and the belt came down again.

Air hissed through her teeth. As I brought my arm back again I could see the belt was leaving a pattern of darkening red stripes across her smooth skin. She gasped and nearly fell forward each time a stroke landed.

“Stand up and put your hands flat on the wall.”

She moved slowly as if sensations were tingling through her and slowing her muscles. Pressing her palms to the wood panelling she spread her legs and pushed her behind out.

I stepped forward and tucked the material of her dress into the waistband, my hand slipping over sensuous curves. I could feel the heat radiating from her bottom.

I moved back and brought the belt down vertically from over my shoulder twice across each cheek. The crack of the impact was almost drowned by her squeals.

She looked meekly over her shoulder. “I’m so close to coming, fuck me,” she panted.

“You are not allowed to come. It is part of your punishment.”

“If you slide that rod up my slit I will come straight away.”

The princess was back in the room as she said it, and who was I to disobey a royal command.

For a moment I wondered if she was a virgin but then there had been rumours of knights of pleasure and I had heard some enthusiastic sounds from her bedroom whilst going about my more menial duties.

I slid the head of my shaft between her legs. She was so wet that her lips parted like a sea anemone opening. She rode astride its length, the head pushing on her sweet bud.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

She might be a princess but she had learnt the language of the street from somewhere, maybe it was the books I gave her to read.

Her body tensed and her behind wriggled against me. I drew back and then slid into her cave. It was so hot and wet that it felt as if my cock was underwater.

She bellowed so loud I thought they must hear it in the throne room and bucked against me. She shuddered, froze like an ice queen and then sagged against the wall.

“Turn around and kneel,” I commanded.

I could see her legs trembling, her mind was so misted from coming that she complied without protest.

She opened her mouth as soon as the tip of my cock brushed her lips. Her fingernails bit into my buttocks as she pulled me into her, swallowing the whole length, my balls slapping against her chin.

Now it was my turn to moan as she dragged her lips back and forth along the length of my cock. She slipped from the end and gasped for air before diving back onto me, making gulping sounds as she sucked.

One of her hands slipped off my buttocks and disappeared between her legs. She began to make muffled grunts as my cock filled her mouth. She was obviously coming again. The fingers gripping my behind tensed, her nails biting into me, pushing my cock as deep as it would go into her mouth.

I wound my fingers into her hair and pressed their tips against the back of her head. My cock was pulsing and my first burst shot into her throat. She pulled back again, replacing her lips with her fingers and ropes of cum whipped across her face and into her hair. Then her mouth was back, sucking greedily as she devoured the final drops.

She flopped back down onto the floor, sitting with her legs apart and leaning against the wall. She reached up and took off her crown. She giggled.

I looked at her, my brow furrowing into as much of a frown as I could muster.

She looked up, smiling. “I just wondered how one gets cum out of an ornate crown?”

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