Spanked in Church Ch. 09

The names, characters, places and events in this story are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. All characters are over the age of 18. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

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Spanked in Church Ch. 08

The moment Cora Miller heard the front door close behind her departing fiancé and then hearing the throaty roar of his Chevy truck starting up, she went back up to their bedroom and sat down silently at her dressing table. Her face was still burning with deep shame and guilt; while a no less guilty thrill was still inflaming her red hot sex. Across her buttocks a blistering, stinging feeling remained from this morning's well deserved spanking; she shouldn't have talked back to her man. That had been made very clear to her.

Now as she sat on the very source of her ignominy the young woman couldn't focus on anything other than how her body reacted. Gradually the pain became a deeper, duller crimson; while her as yet unrelieved arousal rendered her pussy benumbed but still swollen. The state she was in, Cora thought she was going crazy. How could all these intense feelings remain for so long? The young woman's inward attention was focused on the insupportable, fiery, sticky pulsing between her toned athletic legs that she kept crossed under her dressing table. Why was she still so desperately turned on?

Sitting alone in her neat bedroom, Cora's mind kept wandering off to the rhythm of the swats her fiancé, Samuel Wolford, had previously landed on her upturned bare ass. She had felt so helpless and vulnerable back then, really wanting her fiancé to free her but now she felt utterly perverted, grounded in the reality of being the willing partner of a man who witnessed her kicking and thrashing and moaning against the punishment it was only right and proper that he had given her.

She enjoyed the way Sam made her feel; just like a little brat, at his mercy, hot and bothered, craving and needing his thick meaty dick but too ashamed to say anything other than, "I'm so sorry." Oh, she rightfully deserved the thrashing he gave her so well! Once she thought she might be wrong in seeing it that way, but attending Deacon Stearns's Church of the Loving Holy Rebuke had given them both an attitude adjustment. Now she realized that a man's place was at the head of his household and that he had the right and duty to chastise his partner when she erred. If she misbehaved it was necessary that he should set her straight again. And that was what had happened this morning. Before he left for work as a groundsman at the local Country Club he had taken her firmly in hand and tanned her backside. At the time it had hurt so much but it had also stoked deep fires inside her that needed quenching.

Cora couldn't help or deny the way it made her feel. But what was she supposed to do about it now, other than dying from shame and never disobeying again? During the time she sat at her table her cosmetics and hairbrushes and colorful jewelry box all before her, waves of disgrace and guilty arousal washed over and around her like the tides of the sea.

Sore and soaking wet down below, Cora shifted position uncrossing her legs until she reached under the folds of her bathrobe, closed her eyes and rubbed through the soft cloth of her panties, ashamed to masturbate as a result of her spanking. What was wrong with her?

To masturbate after having her ass thoroughly spanked, crying and squalling like a naughty little girl. Crying like a silly little girl while laying across her man's legs, having her soaking wet panties pulled down to receive even more pain and disgrace.

Pain and disgrace that turned her on so, so much she could barely take it. Surrendering under her beloved man's hand, protesting against only the ever increasing pain but nothing else. Pretending it was the pain that bothered her the most. She had shaved her pussy smooth the evening before as she knew that was how Sam liked her to be as if she knew what was coming the next morning and hoping for far more. Such a slutty little harlot. If only Sam knew what she was really like...?

Cora felt her legs starting to shake. Never before had her arousal grown so quickly from her fingers' velvety touches. No..., not yet, she told herself. The girl withdrew her hand when she was dangerously close to climaxing. After her recent spanking she was still too ashamed and stressed to cum, to reach climax even in the privacy of her bedroom. And she didn't deserve such sweet release anyway. But she needed relief so desperately; it was all she could think about.

She wondered what he would think if only Sam could see her engorged pussy from behind. Would he like what he was seeing? Could her needy, lusty moans awake an equal arousal in him? Just like his masterful strength and ruthlessness tugged at her heartstrings.

Cora kept playing the situation over again in her head. Each time the memory overlapped with her daydream, getting richer and more spicy in details, each more vivid in both action and context; Cora Miller, a humble accounts clerk for an agricultural supplier, turning out to be a total disgrace to her company's name if they knew what an utter slut she was at home. What would her boss and colleagues say behind her back? Spanked repeatedly to tears at home for her misdemeanors. Seduced by her fiancé into total submission. Profaned, finally violated on their dining room table as she had been last night. Coming to a loudly screaming orgasm only partly against her will.

Now here she was, on her bed, half-dressed in just her bathrobe, naked beneath, mewling into her pillow, riding herself to another shuddering climax, sometimes gasping with her squirming fingers deep inside her pussy, sometimes edging herself almost into a stifled, quivering orgasm.

Her imagination was powerful enough that Cora fantasized about laying helplessly over her beloved's lap earlier this morning, her bare bottom upturned ready for his hand. Then, when her punishment ended being commanded to stay in place. And to be quiet without moving.

Then, her imagination kicked in, being roughly entered from behind against the couch she was spanked on. Wriggling and kicking and sobbing to no end, finally her vagina filled up like how she craved it. Sometimes it was very forceful, fueled by his sheer animal lusts and anger. The time passed by and Cora was consumed with self-reflection.

She had been attracted to Sam ever since they had started high school. Initially she started as a secret admirer, gazing dreamily, taking in his every word and every gesture. He had no interest in her, always keeping his distance, despite the occasional word passed between them. Her unrequited desire rendered Cora bitter and annoyed over several years.

At the end of their time at high school she thought she was probably never going to see him again as he had been talking about heading west to California. Fantasizing about her fellow student, Cora used to be shy even in her own head. She thought that once she imagined a scene too sexually explicit, she wouldn't be able to delete it from her mind any more.

Cora had long realized she secretly wanted, needed, a man in power; who was the one to force himself on a smaller, shy female. Cora always liked the imagery. Yet, she had a hard time imagining Sam being actually violent in any way towards a woman; demanding, yes, but never violent. Therefore Cora had to imagine herself: seductive, provocative, with cleavage and short skirts, and him; staring, wanting to touch her, to fuck her, but trying to fight his feelings for professional reasons. And somehow, as she guessed, those frequent fantasies made Cora behave bolder in real life.

Yet they had kept in touch through friends until one night, at a party, they had found themselves talking over their beers and before the night was out they were kissing passionately and had become an item. She managed to make him mad, and it amounted to something. The image of him grew fuller. Now she could imagine him being forceful in a variety of ways. Now she knew how it felt to be exposed by him and knew how his strong hands felt on her body.

However, at the time she was still a virgin so it was still difficult to imagine a dick inside of her. She craved to know how it would feel to be entered, filled up, fucked, pounded. She expected it to hurt, and even if it would pose an obstacle, she didn't mind. She wanted a man, yes Sam Wolford himself, to make her cry; she wanted to plead and resist, even if just a little. The idea ripened inside her virgin mind and how her primal desires formed couldn't be helped any more.

Her life would be easier, Cora had thought at the time, if she could get a dildo and prepare for the things never to come as she imagined: both to appease her thirst and to make her pussy fit for a pounding, if she ever was to get one. However, the circumstances of an eighteen year old living with her parents in a small house in a small town, with no income of her own, rendered it practically impossible.

Back in the present, Cora stood up and although she was home alone she tugged down her bathrobe and made herself look more presentable. She ran her fingers through her hair and hurried downstairs into the kitchen. In the harsh glare of the opened fridge she took out a cucumber a little thicker but much longer than even Samuel's muscular cock making it perfect for her desperate needs.

She washed the cucumber in hot water, kneading it, taking off the fridge chill. She carried it back upstairs and rolled a condom over it, before putting it away for now, then lay back on her rumpled bed. Cora breathed out. She felt quite embarrassed of what she was going to do; jilling herself off with a cucumber was a running joke for all her female workmates at the office. And there she was, about to do it.

Cora closed the drapes in her room; now the dim sunlight edging through the gaps made the room more tranquil and calm. She threw off her white bathrobe and tossed it behind her onto the bed, then wriggled out of her panties. Now she was completely naked. She drew one athletic leg up and opened wide.

She sighed with a mixture of shame and wanton expectation. Here goes, she thought with a shy smile.

Like most women, Cora had fingered herself before many times. But doing it with a cucumber would be so exciting and something new yet somewhat shameful. With her tongue, she licked and moistened the cucumber's head, then teased it up and down, up and down and around her soaking slit. Nothing too pleasurable, but the girl could feel the yearning needs growing in her swelling clitoris. Once she found where to aim to get it inside, she closed her eyes and pushed.

The cucumber's head was hard and wider that Sam's cock; it needed a little adjustment and a little extra push from her wrist. Her eyes opened wide, showing the whites and she breathed in and out, trembling, pushing some more. Her insides already felt full, even though she had only managed to take maybe a couple of inches so far. The way her flexible pussy walls stretched around the cool cucumber going in felt unusual but rewarding. Peering down her body from above she could see her swollen clit peeking out; oh, she was not going to touch it yet. Slowly, her hand started to move the cucumber in and out.

It felt oh so good and better and better with every sudden thrust.

Her left hand gripped the edge of the bed. Breathing heavily through an opened mouth, Cora threw her head back and let her creative imagination run the show.

She fancied Sam's huge cock feeling so hard inside her, moving so fast. He paid no attention to her needy, desperate clit. That's how hard and greedy she made him. She knew he's going to fuck her hard for hours like a machine until she's a sloppy mess. He wouldn't punish her, although he threatened to do so. But she was a good girl this time, willing to conform to his every demand. Willing to do anything to avoid a spanking. She begged him not to do it. Then he looked down at her with pity and reached under her skirt, ripping her underwear down. She was already wet opening her legs for good access. She looked down, with fear in her eyes, at his hands lowering the zipper of his trousers and the magnificent stallion shaft that reared from his boxers. She was soaking wet when he aimed his rock hard cock at her snatch. "You wanted it, "he told her, pushing into her and immediately starting to fuck her. He commanded her to keep quiet, but how could she? She screamed out her primal needs.

In the real world, in her shady bedroom on her own, Cora simply rammed the cucumber in and out of her needy pussy until her muscles shook as she moaned lusty, guttural cries. Her earth-splitting climax was close. If she was to merely touch her clit, she knew she was going to explode and collapse in a puddle of her own juices. She rode the cucumber, bucking her hips. How much more convenient it would be, if it was her beloved fiancé fucking her! But she wasn't giving up. Gasping for air, she pushed up from the inside, giving her pulsating clit the best without touching it. A few times she convulsed, almost there, fucking herself hastily, stopping while holding her breath: every time she was almost, almost there.

It was self-torture and Cora loved every minute of it.

"Please, please, please...," she moaned to herself, or whatever power was responsible for giving her an orgasm. Yet God didn't listen to her pleas, however. As she was growing tired, Cora decided to put one finger above her clit and push down gently, only as much as it was necessary. It didn't take much pressure or time to send Cora into a paroxysm of desperate cries; following a shiver and an intense squeeze her pussy gave the delightfully hard object inside her.

Coming down from her heavenly ecstasy, Cora rolled over on her sweat soaked bed. She moved over her bed, where she lay amid a disarray of her clothing and pillows. What an orgasm! She should treat herself like this more often, she thought. Even though she could feel her insides burning a little now, it was totally worth it.

She lay back and recovered herself a little until she could feel arousal sending tender shoots out into her body again.

This time she made it quick, with a hand between her thighs, fingering her clit unrelentingly until she came. Then, without stopping although at first it felt somewhat unpleasant and with her privates so weary already, a little painful she rubbed with her whole sweaty palm until she came once again.

After three orgasms in total and two in rapid succession, Cora couldn't quiet her rapid breathing. Replete yet she greedily wanted to have another one, and another, and yet another. To frig herself for the rest of eternity. However, her body finally let her down and she gave up and the tired young woman fell into a nap, from which she woke up more sober, although clammy with old sweat, with her privates still throbbing with strange, tingling sensations.

Glancing at the clock on her nightstand she saw it was noon already; she realized she must have slept for almost two hours.

With her mind still befogged with lust, Cora reached for her improvised toy. Her hands felt her naked body up. Aroused was all she was. Hungry for sex yet oh so tired. Sensitive and perverted, craving pain and torment but also a loving caress. One hand teased her slick opening to make it wetter again; the other teased her left nipple. Cora licked the tip of the cucumber and pressed it down. She gave a little cry of anguish as her abused clit hurt when touched directly yet the toy slipped lower and Cora pushed it back inside again.

This time she met more resistance; her body didn't seem as willing and needy as before. Cora indulged in playing with the circumstances, with two inches filling her from the inside, she rubbed her stretched clit gently in slow intervals, prodding, playing with pain, until her imagination flourished again. It wasn't any kind of a script but rather pure desperation for sensations and motion. She pushed the cucumber further in, slowly but surely, grunting loudly and moaning as she forced herself to take in Sam's imagined prick. It didn't give her pussy quite so much pleasure as before, yet Cora enjoyed pushing herself to the edge of suffering, focusing on how deep her toy went and how incredibly full it made her feel.

If only she had a vibrator that she could put against her clit now... or rather, if Sam could fill her up with his dick, hold her down, then put a vibe against her; she would squirm against the man forcing herself to stay on his thick dick until he could feel her pussy squeeze an orgasm out of him.

"Oh, it's so good and it hurts...," Cora muttered to herself and to this both imaginary and real torment. "Oh, oh, oh..."

Her hips rocked spasmodically as she struggled to climax in this unfamiliar situation. It felt good and terrible at the same time. She felt full and almost fed up, not really close to a climax but rather close to crying. Was she driving herself crazy? Perhaps, but she couldn't stop. Louder and louder, Cora cried, moaned and groaned, squirming around on her bed.

"Stop it; it hurts so bad...," she cried out to the room, her hips up in the air, "Please, I can't cum anymore!"

Eventually, she had to stop. Her hands grew so tired. The cucumber gently slipped out of her; Cora lay down on her side, panting, regaining composure. She just needed her fiancé to give her a good fucking her like this. Was it too much to ask?

Eventually she stood up from her sweat soaked bed, all dazed and shaky. It felt funny to walk; in a way she still felt full, yet oddly unfulfilled. She threw on her bathrobe and walked downstairs to throw the evidence of her afternoon's pleasuring into the trashcan outside.

Cora thought she would like to take a shower and then go back to sleep but her fiancé would be home soon.

And when Cora stood in the shower, the hot spray of water sluicing off her skin, she didn't think much. Except, maybe, she thought that Samuel had some more reasons to spank her ass now. And even if he didn't know that, she had to get him to do it somehow...