Blushing Bride | free spanking story

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It was their wedding day. She looked beautiful in the long white dress and veil. The short, lacy sleeves only emphasized her creamy, soft upper arms, and the bodice was cut low and tight in front, forcing her breasts to mound above and barely kept her nipples hidden. The waist was tightly cinched, and the skirt flowed from there out over her hips and round bottom. She looked tempting and radiant. He was salivating, imagining doing nasty things.

He had told her that a friend would take some special, private wedding pictures as a gift, and it was time to go. She innocently smiled at him, which contrasted with her ill mood of the past couple of days. She didn’t handle stress well, and had been making his and others’ lives miserable as details were worked out. Now she was happy, but he planned to teach her a lesson before the marriage even began.

His country home was being given the finishing touches as he helped Sarah into the passenger seat of his car, and drove the mile or so to a small building that had been used by his father for writing and solitary quiet. She was curious, but indulgent. Another car was parked there; the photographer, she assumed. And, yes, the camera was set up, aimed at the area where she would stand in front of a pale green backdrop and a few artfully placed plants. The male photographer was quiet and serious; not someone she had met before, though that wasn’t surprising. She arranged herself and posed.

The photographer stared at her, waiting. Her husband-to-be leaned against the back wall, smiling at her. She looked at him inquiringly. “I’m ready. We should go ahead so we’re not late.”

Still smiling, he said pleasantly, “You know, these last few days have been hell, and not just for me. You’ve been a regular bitch!”

She was irritated. “Well, this isn’t exactly the time to talk about it, is it? Let’s get the pictures done.”

He walked over to her. “I think this is the perfect time. Before we’re officially married, I want to remind you of a few things, the most important being that I’m not willing to be treated like your slave. And you’ve been rude to everyone who’s been trying to help with this wedding. You have a bad temper and you’ve been acting spoiled! That’s got to stop.

“So, my friend here is going to help me impress upon you the importance of treating your husband and others around you with courtesy.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the dress’s skirt up. She protested and moved to stop him, but he grabbed her wrist, and said, “No,” in the firmest voice she’d ever heard him use. She gasped, and also felt the tiniest thrill inside her breast. She took her hand away. He continued to pull the skirt up so she was completely on display below her waist, and said, “Hold this; keep it right here.” She glanced at the photographer. He looked a little stern, examining her body, his gaze moving slowly up and down. She flushed. She was wearing white sheer bikini panties and thigh-high sheer white stockings, and had shaved her pussy, so that when she walked, the slick material slipped back and forth on her smooth skin and felt delicious. She knew they could see her pussy lips clearly through the thin material. Jeff started pulling her panties down over her hips. She protested, but one look from him stopped her. He watched her as he slid them further down her thighs, all the way to her ankles, gesturing for her to continue holding the skirt high above her waist, and then for her to step out of the panties. The photographer’s eyes were on her pussy, and she was acutely aware that she was starting to get wet. “ Now turn around.” She did, slowly, looking back at them and arching her back as Jeff arranged her skirts up over her bottom so that it was completely exposed. She felt another thrill as she met the photographer’s eyes. “Here, lean over a bit. Let me fix the dress.” As he made sure the dress wouldn’t be crushed, she bent forward slightly at the waist, resting her elbows on a convenient surface there, arched her back even more, and stuck out her bare bottom, looking back toward the men. “Spread your legs. There. That’s perfect.”

“Jeff,” she giggled nervously, “you’re not going to take pictures of me like this!”

He was silent, moving back to his place behind the photographer and leaning against the wall.

The “photographer” walked slowly and deliberately over, and she saw there was something in his hand. A paddle; it looked like leather. Then she panicked. “No, not now. You said someday, but not now! It’s our wedding!” No response.

The man had well-groomed, capable-looking hands. He stroked her bare bottom softly, and she flinched. He stroked up and down several times, feeling the shape of her ass, and she gradually relaxed, though she felt mortified. He slapped her gently. She gasped. Slapped her several times, still gently, varying the place on her bottom, sometimes low near her pussy. It felt good; she actually made a little moaning sound, and silenced it, hoping they hadn’t noticed, but very sure they had. She hoped her juices wouldn’t trickle down her leg so they would see. It was one thing to endure this, and on her wedding day, but she wouldn’t give Jeff the satisfaction of getting off on it!!

Whack! He slapped her hard, and she cried out in surprise. She glanced at Jeff, but he had that dark look in his eyes; he was turned on, so no help there. Whack! Over and over now, the man was spanking her ass.

Jeff could see the creamy white starting to turn pink. And he could feel his cock stiffening. She looked so hot! The man was systematic: he covered every inch of her ass with stinging slaps. He was a professional, which was why Jeff had hired him. Then he started using the leather paddle. The sound was different, not as sharp, more muted, but he was wielding it with more and more force. Emma started crying, begging him to stop.

“I recommend that you stop crying. You don’t want to spoil your face right before the wedding,” her husband said gently. “But you don’t have to worry about being loud. No one will hear but us.”

She gripped the table and tried to hold back the tears, sobbing and hiccupping, crying out every time the paddle hit. Jeff wasn’t worried about her being hurt; he knew the man would be careful, and he also knew that Sarah had been dreaming about being thoroughly spanked for a long time. He loved to hear her being so out of control, unable to stifle her reactions. The spanking continued, with varying strokes now: some almost gentle, then a couple of hard ones when she had relaxed a little. Her round bottom was bright red. The man stopped and stepped away.

Jeff went to her, rubbed her trembling, swollen bottom gently to soothe the pain, and kissed her. She looked up: tears in her eyes, but make-up intact. He smiled.

“What did you think? Can you mind your manners more now?”

She nodded, sniffing. As she looked sideways at him, he kissed her gently, then more urgently, probing her mouth with his tongue, rubbing her bottom and moving his hand between her cheeks to her pussy, which he found was dripping wet.

He laughed. “I thought you’d like this.”

She pouted. “It hurt! And my bottom is so hot!” Then she whispered, “And it made me so horny and wet.” He turned her around to face him. She leaned back slightly while he spread her legs and parted her pussy lips to reveal the juices glistening there. He knelt and, keeping her legs spread, licked between the lips. She jerked and moaned. He probed with his tongue, eating her out and working her clit. She was wiggling under him and making very unladylike noises, trying desperately to keep her skirt from any damage. He pushed two fingers into her pussy, and looked back at the man. “Are you getting this?”

“He’s taking pictures?”

“Of course. We came here for pictures, didn’t we?” He finger-fucked her, slowly and deep, then faster, displaying her for the camera all the while. She made a lot of noise, though she was most embarrassed when she inadvertently made a little mew sound, like a kitten. It seemed so nasty and out of control, which was what she was feeling right then. She spread her legs wider, and he could just imagine the picture she made in her wedding dress with her pussy exposed for everyone to see, her face in an expression of wanton ecstasy. He wanted her mouth on his very hard cock, but knew her dress might not survive that. He turned her around again. Her bottom was still red. He kissed it, slapped it gently a little, and with his other hand, pulled something from his pocket, which he rubbed along her wet clit. It felt cool and smooth. When he touched the wet tip of it to her pink, puckered asshole, she realized what it was.

Indignantly, she tried to push him away, but he was too strong. He pushed the tip of the plug until it just barely went inside her tight ass, pulled it out slowly, then in small increments pushed it a little deeper each time before pulling it out, until he was pushing it all the way in her ass. She was starting to buck her hips, crying out.

“Do you like it?” he murmured.

“Yes!” she cried out.

“Next time it’ll be my cock. Would you like that?”

“I think so. . . .Yes!” He pushed in and out while rubbing her clit with the other hand.

“’Please’ would be nice.”

“Yes, please,” she gasped. She was going wild, and her juices were flowing freely. Finally, as he pushed it in one more time and rubbed quick circles on her clit, she shuddered and cried out with her orgasm, convulsing her hips several times before gradually becoming still, panting.

Jeff stood up and walked to a nearby sink to wash up. She was still. “Aren’t you going to take it out?” she asked timidly.

“No, it stays in until after the ceremony.” She blushed and tried to arrange her skirts with shaking hands.

“Can I have my panties?”

“No. Did you get it all on camera?” The photographer nodded. “And the video camera was rolling, too? Good. Ready to go, Sarah?”

She nodded demurely.

Later at the wedding ceremony, people couldn’t say enough about how radiant the bride was. How pink her cheeks were (Little did they know!). How much in love the couple seemed. At one point in the ceremony, after she repeated the vow of “honoring her husband,” she seemed to whisper in his ear. What they didn’t see was that she stuck her tongue in his ear and then nipped his earlobe. But they saw him smile and he caressed her bottom with one hand.

“Lucky bastard,” his friends said.

Later at the reception, Sarah appeared in a strapless white cocktail dress that was again very low-cut, tightly cinching her waist and forcing her breasts together for maximum cleavage. Her white heels caused her small feet to arch on tiptoe as high as they would go, and their leather straps, which fastened around her ankles, matched a white leather choker that was around her neck. She walked gracefully up to Jeff and his friends, who were talking animatedly. When he didn’t immediately acknowledge her, she snapped, “Jeff!” and “Stop talking, and kiss me!”

“You’re being rude, Darling. One minute.”

“You’re supposed to pay attention to ME? Get me a drink.”

Jeff turned and looked at her silently. “You’ll regret that.” And walked away to the bar.

The party was going well. She wasn’t hungry, and wandered around, chatting with guests. She noticed that every now and then one of the men would give her a very penetrating, odd look. She would check to see if a nipple had popped out of her dress, but never saw anything out of the ordinary. Later in the evening, after a couple of men had smiled at her, staring, she mentioned it to Jeff. “What’s going on? Is my dress on backwards? I keep getting weird looks from some of the men here.”

Jeff smiled. “Come with me.” She followed him upstairs to a room that he had to unlock before entering. She saw a darkened room with a flickering light that seemed to come from the side; when she went in, she realized that there was a big-screen TV in the room, and several men were lounging in chairs.

“Aaaahh . . . .” Whack! “Aaaaaahhhh!” She turned quickly to see the screen, and there she was in her wedding dress, having her bare bottom spanked by the anonymous photographer for all these men to see.

“What?! How DARE you! Turn it off!” The men looked at her, appraisingly. Jeff gripped her arm.

“You embarrassed me in front of my friends at the reception. Obviously, you didn’t learn the lesson, so this is the consequence.”

“So . . .THIS is why I’ve been getting funny looks? How many men have seen it?

Jeff. . .” She started to cry.

“Don’t worry, Honey. I’ve only shown my closest friends who understand and appreciate this kind of thing. I can trust them not to breathe a word. Why do you think I locked the door? I will say it has been a very appreciative audience. You’ve gained some ardent admirers.”

She turned to walk out. “Wait. I do have something else to show you. A gift. This is as good a time as any.” He led her out, locked the door, then went to the bedroom they were using; after stepping aside so she could enter, he walked in, turned, and locked this door as well. She registered the sound of the lock, but her attention was taken by something new in the room: some kind of chair or bench.

“What is this?”

“I’ll show you. Let’s get your dress off first.” Her pulse quickened. He unzipped her, and helped her out of the dress. “Leave the rest on.” Which left her with the collar around her neck, a white lacy garter belt with white sheer stockings, and the high heels. She hadn’t been wearing panties, and her bare pussy was beautifully framed by the garter belt. The soft mounds of her breasts contrasted with the hard and erect nipples. He gestured to the divided padded “seat” of the chair.

“Kneel here with one leg on each pad, and then lean forward.” She placed one knee on the left pad and then her right knee on the other, which spread her legs apart because of the space between them. She leaned forward against the padded roll, arched her back, and stuck out her bottom. The roll was long enough so she could rest her elbows. Jeff stepped back and studied her. “Now this is a pretty picture. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good.” As he stepped around to face her, he unzipped his pants, pulled out his hard cock, and began to slowly stroke it. She looked up at him and smiled, and as he turned to face her, reached out her hand to grasp him and pull him toward her. She was just the right height as she leaned forward, bottom up, and took him all the way into her warm, wet mouth, deeply sucking him and then licking around the head before sucking him in again. He groaned and started pumping, slowly fucking her in the mouth, taking his time. She was wanton about it, using her hands to stroke whatever part of him wasn’t plunging past her lips, stroking his balls, making wet, slurping noises, looking up at him coyly. He loved to see her pretty face, as her red lips were stretched around his big, hard cock. It made him even harder to see the shape of his cock running down the inside of her cheek.

He reached under with both hands to play with her nipples. She had the most sensitive nipples of any woman he’d ever known; playing with them would make her wiggle and moan, and the juices would start flowing out of her. She loved it, and he could play with her for hours without her being ready to stop. He massaged the hard nubs, rubbing each between two fingers . . . her breath quickened . . . he gradually rubbed a little harder, pinching gently, and she moaned. Finally, he pulled his cock out of her mouth, and pinched her nipples hard, while kissing her gently and deep.

Walking around behind her, he pressed her further forward so her bottom was as accessible as possible. He reached between her pussy lips, felt the slick wet, then smacked her on the bottom with his hand. “Oooohhhh,” she said.

“You like that a lot, don’t you? I knew you would.” He slapped her again on the other cheek. She flinched, but moaned. He slapped her more; methodically covering her entire ass, just like before; sometimes softly, then a very hard spank here and there to startle her. She was leaning way over the padded roll now, gripping it tightly with her hands, breathing hard. Her ass was pink and getting pinker by the minute. He could see the marks of his hand against the whiteness of her skin. He stroked his cock with his other hand; continued to slap her ass, over and over and over. She was crying out, sobbing a little. He stopped and let her catch her breath; then reached over to the dresser for a paddle, this one made out of polished wood. “Are you ready?”

“Yes . . . . Spank me, Jeff.” He swatted her with the paddle. “Aaaahhhh!”

“That’s a sharper feeling, isn’t it? We’ll try this for a bit. You can see what you like best, the hand, the leather paddle, or this one.” He proceeded to spank her ass, especially down low near her pussy. She was going crazy now, wiggling all over, and begging him to stop. “Be sure to stay on the pads. I have restraints that will help you control yourself, but I’d rather you kept still on your own.”

She quieted a little, or at least maintained the position. He spanked her some more. The really hard blows were far apart for now; he interspersed them with lighter ones and some rubbing with his other hand. He wanted to give her a chance to work her way into the more intense spanking as time went on.

When he stopped, she was limp. He raised her chin; tears were running down her cheeks, but she managed to smile at him and raise herself up. He gently massaged her bright red bottom as he went around behind her, and pushed his swollen cock deep into her pussy. She moaned loudly. “Yes, please fuck me, and please make me come.” Her pussy had never felt so wet before. He pumped into her; fucked her hard. She arched her back; cried out. He pulled back on her hair, and thrust quickly and hard. He could feel himself coming, pulled out, and shot all over her pretty, red ass. She was urgently fingering her pussy, and started bucking with her own orgasm right after he came.

When they both were quiet, he stepped back, and they gazed at each other. She held her position on the chair: stocking-covered legs spread apart, exposing her glistening pussy; back arched with her bare red bottom pushed up. The difference now: his come all over her ass and up her back; her flushed face looking back at him with a little smile.

“Thank you for my gift,” she whispered.

“My pleasure.” He reached for a camera. This shot would be the perfect mate to the one in her wedding dress.


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