Slapping a slutty girl story

The night of my true awakening as a woman, as a human being – the opening of my soul; the chance to embrace my true self, my submissive self ... what a remarkable feeling, this feeling of being alive, and now I know that there is no turning back.

I had, at the urging of these deeply submissive desires, gone online to a site dedicated to assisting those in the BDSM lifestyle find partners. I made myself a little profile, not giving away too much of me, not posting a picture for fear that someone I knew would discover my slutty, little secret.

Of course there were instant emails from Dominant men, from submissive men, from kinky couples, but none struck me too much as being anything interesting. I read one profile of a gentleman who sounded intriguing, but I was too scared to write to him, still trapped inside of my fear of the unknown. Oddly enough though, several days later I received a message from Him that was eloquent and intelligent, it definitely caught my attention and I replied ... that was the door creaking open.

We met for coffee the next day after work. He looked totally normal, still dressed in his clothes he had worn to the office. I don't know what I was expecting him to be wearing – a cape or something obnoxious and obvious - but you would never know that this man sitting across from me was an experienced Dominant who, according to his profile, was into rope bondage, chastity piercing, anal play, spanking ... my head was spinning. I have never been so at a loss for words; I was uncharacteristically grasping for how to explain my thoughts to him. I'm usually so eloquent and charming and funny and witty and sarcastic, yet as he examined me with his eyes, peering right into the depths of my darkened soul, I was at once unarmed. So vulnerable and small and stupid – he knew exactly how to press my buttons, gently but firmly.

"Rory, explain to me what exactly it is that you're doing here sitting across from a handsome Dom such as myself?" The words rolled off his tongue like nothing. He didn't have an air of ego or conceit, but rather, he seemed warranted in his query. What was I doing here?

My words were stuck inside my throat. I smiled and then giggled in an attempt to divert his attention from my unease. I twisted a chunk of hair around my finger and bit my lip. Then I really felt the weight of his gaze, the fact that he was reading my every emotion. He made me melt to nothing, to a little slut that admitted to smacking my own ass with a ruler, and willingly clasped safety pins on my own tender, sweet, pink nipples. I spilled my entire insides out to this strange and handsome and commanding man. He didn't flinch. He asked me if I wanted him to spank me, he even offered to take me back to his house now and take care of me and my little ass that was begging to be tortured. I could formulate no response other than to hang my mouth open and sense the wetness that was ever present between my legs. He knew this. I declined his offer to spank me, citing an early morning, but in reality I was petrified. I wanted to get a handle on the situation – I felt completely out of control and that was an unfamiliar feeling to me.

He walked me to my car after dinner, guiding me with his hand placed gently on the back of my neck. We kissed sweetly, but steamy enough to make me flush with excitement, leaning up against the side of my car. He smiled at me as he guided me into the front seat of my car, and then asked me, rather inquisitively, if I was wearing any panties.

"Yes." I answered naively. Not knowing what he would demand next.

"Take them off and give them to me." I was shocked. I stared at him wide-eyed and protested.

"Right here? But, but, everyone can see." I complained, but was so highly turned on by his commanding demeanor.

"I'm not asking you, Rory." He smiled only slightly, serious and sinister.


"But, but..." I looked around, and couldn't see anyone blatantly watching us, although there were apartments directly in front of us. I looked at him. All I had to do was slam the door and drive away. But I hesitated. I looked at him and then closed my eyes, bit my lip and ran my hands up underneath my skirt, pulling my pink and fuchsia thong from my wet cunt. I balled it up in my hand and thought about the decision that would change me forever.

"Give them to me, Rory." He gently coaxed me. I looked at him and held my hand over his, still not unleashing my grip on the panties, pressing my lips together with deep thought. His eyes were conveying a sense of trustworthiness though, and I let them go into his hand. "Good girl." He praised me as he stuffed them into his pocket.

"Oh my god, what have I done?" I said aloud, more to myself than to him. "You have my panties." He smiled that sinister, deviant smile, clearly enjoying this. He chuckled softly.

"You can get them back. Do you want me to tell you how?" He dangled the proverbial carrot in front of me. I nodded my head and pleaded for him to tell me how to undo this regret I was no feeling for having given a complete stranger the panties I had worn all day long, that were saturated with my passionate juices. I was lamenting my slutty ways and chastising myself, not paying attention to his implicit instructions of how to get the panties back.


"When you are ready to be spanked into submission, you are to call me and say, 'I've been a very bad girl, and I need to be punished, Sir.'" Those words would jumble around my head and cause me much suffering down the line, simply because I could not recall the exact phrasing of that instruction.

"Additionally, from now on you are to address me as either Sir or Daddy. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir." I felt flush with naughty arousal. I wanted to say Daddy, but that seemed too naughty.

The next morning I awoke after I had rubbed it out again for the second time since I had met him, and picked up the phone and called him. I got his voice mail. I left a long, blabbering message about how I had enjoyed our meeting and was looking forward to seeing him again.

When I got to work, I checked my email. There was an email from Him:

"Rory, do you not remember my instructions? I told you to call me and I told you exactly what to say. However, you did not comply with my instructions. Think about it and try again."

Shit!! I couldn't remember exactly what he told me to say. I thought about it, twisting my hair around my finger, wracking my brain for the proper phrasing for the following three hours until my lunch break.

I found a quiet spot outside and phoned him again. "Hi, it's Rory." Shit, I was already sounding stupid. "Um, I have been naughty and I need to be spanked." I felt so dumb as I spoke these words on his voice mail. I felt like everyone around me knew what a stupid slut I was.


No return phone call, but when I checked my email back at the office, there was one waiting from him. "Rory. You are making me impatient. I know that you're inexperienced, but paying attention to details is key. Here is what you are to say." He wrote what I was supposed to say, and I called him on my way home from the office, humbly begging for forgiveness, and using as many "Sir's" as possible. I admitted that I had been a very bad girl and I need to be punished by Him.


October 1st –

I walked across the street and up to his doorway, dressed exactly as he had told me to: a skirt, high heels, a button down shirt without a bra, but he wanted me to wear panties this time because he wanted to take them off of me himself, he explained. I was to wear my hair in a pony tail because he wanted to see the tattoo on the back of my neck. I sighed as I thought of the fact that he had, in his possession, the panties that I was wearing the night I met him. He had ordered me to take them off at the end of the night, after I admitted that I wanted to feel his hand against my ass, spanking me until I begged him to let me orgasm. The thought of that just makes me so wet.

I got to his door and called him on the apartment intercom. He had told me that he would be down in a second. The seconds turned into minutes and I was standing there on the street, alone with my thoughts, feeling naked: what am I doing here, what would people think, what is going to happen tonight, am I doing the right thing, oh shit, I really am a slutty whore! Was I following my gut or my cunt? I was following both, I determined. I looked around the street, arms crossed in front of me to protect my unprotected breasts from strange eyes and biting breezes.

I bit my lip and shifted on my tall, yellow heels wondering why he was making me wait out here so long, and just when I felt desolate and rejected, he walked out from another side door along the eastside of the building, and toward me. I smiled and then looked down with sad, seductive gratitude.

He studied me, tilting his head and taking me in with his piercing brown eyes. He looked casually handsome in jeans and a tee shirt, very unsuspecting. He smiled at me, but just barely.

"I see you followed my orders, little one." His eyes looked pleased. He flicked my nipple. It perked up through the flimsy material that my shirt was made of. That startled me.

"I did, Sir." I whispered tentatively; my cunt was on fire, and a rush of blood to that region made me feel lightheaded with desire. I knew how to show respect with my words.

"Good girl." Oh, how that sent me out of my body. Just a compliment from a strange man – what kind of slut was I? My head was still spinning; my heart was in my throat, my stomach swarmed with butterflies.

He took my hand and led me into his building. My chest heaved with anticipation.

He pressed the call button for the elevator and we waited for the doors to open. Once inside, he undressed me with his eyes, silently purring in delight, and He pushed the greasy button with a faded "3" to propel us to floor three.

Mid-way up to floor "1," he snickered, leaned toward the control panel and pulled the STOP button. My eyes widened in panic. My heart raced and adrenaline pumped through my body. My throat closed completely up.

"Turn around." He hissed quietly but firmly. I complied immediately. "Put your elbows, palms and forearms against the wall. Spread your legs." I scrambled, furiously trying to obey. He kicked my ankles apart because I wasn't moving fast enough. I started to turn my head to look at him and he shoved my face down so that I was staring at the floor. I choked back a tear.

He yanked my jean skirt up over my hips, exposing my bare ass, only a tiny thong running through the back of my crack. SMACK! His hand landed on my right butt cheek hard.

"That's for not paying attention to details." He gripped my hair and pulled my head back so that he could breathe his comment into my tiny ear.

SMACK!!! Went his hand on my left cheek, forcing me to forward; nicking my knee on the carpeted wall.

"You will pay more attention to detail in the future, right, my little slut?" His tongue was in my ear, sending fiery shocks to my nether region whilst my buttocks stung with shame.

"Yes, Sir," I managed a small choked response from my mouth.

SMACK!!! He hit the first butt cheek again, sending a tiny tear from my eye.

OW! DAMN! ~!SIGH@!~

"Of course you will pay attention to details, little one, because that is what matters the most." One more hard SMACK, ~Ow! Ow!~ and He rubbed my heated ass cheek before pulling my skirt back down.

He then turned me around, smiled at me, and kissed me deeply. Then He un-pressed the STOP button so that we could ride up to floor three with my reddened butt and heaving chest.

And, in looking back, I cannot believe that I was bold enough to ask the following question, but I did anyway due to my naiveté. "Was that my punishment then, Sir?"

He just laughed and shook his head. "Not even close. That was just to get your attention."

I just grinned tentatively at him underneath my stormy gaze, and stifled a giggle. His eyes reading my every thought the second it crossed through my mind. He was like some sort of twisted and handsome wizard man. Being in His presence made my heart wrench up into a ball inside of my throat and then plunge at lightning speed down to my belly. Being near Him, I felt entranced by His energy.

We got inside of His loft. I was worried about the alleged "roommates" that He mentioned He lived with, but I was too nervous to say anything. He must have sensed my unease, as I stared wide-eyed and drank in the new space I was in – not sure of exactly what I was walking into.

"We're alone, little one." He hissed, reading my mind. "Turn right, and down the darkened hallway." He laughed sinisterly as he led me down to his wing of the penthouse.

He opened the door for me, and I gasped just slightly, lamenting my outward display of shock. I saw a suspension bar hanging from the center of the ceiling. My mouth hung open and I abruptly closed it upon seeing His delighted smile spread across His face.

The bed was made with an exotic throw placed over the top of the spread and luscious pillows topped off the scene. The huge sheepskin rug in the center of the room was decadent and I longed to roll around on that with my naked body. Candles, incense, music... I was immediately transported to a euphoric bliss.

He was going to teach me; I was in his confident command. I listened as he gave me implicit instructions:

"Kneel on the rug, sitting back on your heels, knees open to me, and palms resting upward on your thighs." He instructed me and I kneeled down. He came to me, pulling off my shoes. He could see the arousal and apprehension on my face. He gently stroked my cheek.

"Close your eyes." He demanded, and I obliged. I had told Him earlier on the phone that I wanted to have a conversation about boundaries and maybe a "safe word" or something of the sort, he promised that it would occur prior to any sort of fun that we were to have.

"So," I could hear him moving about the room, my eyes closed, arranging things in such a way that he saw fit. "If you are uncomfortable, close to the 'edge' as they say, then the word is yellow." He instructed me to indicate my comprehension; I nodded in understanding.

"And red, if you say the word red, then the entire night halts, comes to a stop, everything, Rory, and then we can talk about what it is that you are uncomfortable with." I understood that if I said the word "red" then I would ruin every wonderful thing that was about to happen. I imagined what could possibly make me need to say that word.

I wondered what the night held. I wondered if I could take it. His dark eyes stared into my closed eyes – I could feel it.

"And additionally, if you cannot speak," this frightened and turned me on all at once... if I was not able to speak ... "then make an 'okay' sign with your first finger and your thumb. It doesn't mean okay, but it means 'red.'" He positioned my right hand in the manner of which he spoke of, and my cunt flushed with hot shame. There was no way I was putting an end to anything that happened tonight. I had waited my entire life for this.

He unbuttoned my top and let my taunt breasts be exposed to him. I heard him moan with delight, and he moved to kiss my chest. He ran his hand up my skirt and pulled at my underwear, the ones he demanded I put on, (if only for him to take off at his behest.)

He unbuttoned the remaining 3 buttons, and then pulled my shirt off of me. He then made me lie down on my back and shimmy my skirt down to my knees so that he could enjoy my ass ordained only with my tiny thong slithering through my crack.

"On your stomach." He demanded briskly, and I obeyed, burying my face in the white rug. "Hands clasped behind your head."

"Butt up, knees spread," He slapped the insides of my thighs in protest at my inexperience, and I immediately obliged him spreading my knees wide for him.

"Good girl." He finally praised, and again, my pussy responded with a resounding wetness flooding to the forefront.

He pulled my panties down to my knees and played with my pussy. Oh, how it ached for his touch and I so responded. He pinched my clit and cupped my entirety, and then stroked me again and again. He was very pleased as I moaned in ecstasy into the rug, as his hand ran over the length of my sex. He plunged his fingers inside of me, probing, as if inspecting his new slut. I groaned with submissive pleasure. He played with me, teasing my pussy, making me moan and writhe, pushing my hips up toward him.

"Ohhh, look at my good little slut," he cooed in pleasure. "I love the way you thrust your pussy on my hand. Look at what a sexy little slut you are." He pushed me higher by unexpectedly smacking my ass with his other hand. I felt like I could barely catch my breath.

Oh, I felt sick with shame. Why was I such a slut!??! I felt like I could vomit, or orgasm, or both even!

"Are you a come slut or a pain slut, Rory?" His words shuddered through me. I was aroused and scared all at once. He pumped me with nearly his fist inside of me.

I couldn't answer that. He smacked my ass hard, pushing my face into the bear skin rug, and catching my breath in my throat.

"I don't, know, Sir." I whimpered into the rug. He pulled his hands away from me.

"You don't know?" He snickered back at me, mocking me. "Oh, I think we'll just have to find out then, Rory." He tweaked my nipple just to see my shocked reaction.

He took my wrists in one hand, and fastened deliciously thick, fur-lined leather cuffs on them. I was secretly pleased. Now I no longer had control. Then he clicked another set of matching cuffs onto my ankles and I was even more pleased, because they were being spread wide apart and locked into position.

I was being led up by him, my arms outstretched and attached to ropes going from the d-ring on my wrist cuffs to the suspension bar, (because I was too short,). My ankles securely strapped onto the hobble bar and then chained again to the restraints hidden underneath the bed.

And now, I just felt like an animal might feel – chained up and helpless. And then I felt humiliated because I realized that I was the one who had asked for this in such a way; willingly let this man put me in such a vulnerable position – open, exposed so horny and ready to be taken and ravaged completely.

I didn't feel sexy unless he looked at me, which he did, because I could feel the weight of his stare. And then, I only felt a smidgen of sexiness intertwined into my humiliation. I felt lovely and sick and vulnerable and at ease all at the same time. I felt truly alive for the first time in my entire life. I could never remember a moment so vivid in my life.

My body was in the shape of a "V". If I could have seen it from above, I'm sure that I would have seemed angelic – this little blonde cherub strapped and chained and bound for whatever this Dom had in mind. He ran his hand over the length of my sex, smiled and picked up the coverlet from atop his bed ...

Atop the entire bed there lay an array of delightful punishment devices: whips, paddles, floggers, crops, leather belts in various thickness and decoration ... clothespins even! My heart slammed down to my stomach, shocked and amazed, and my head swirled with wonderment and awe.

My eyes must have looked as a little doe's caught in the cross-hairs might have. I started to hyperventilate, and a fluttery knot thickened in my belly, making my throat close up. Butterflies swarmed around inside of my abdomen, and I was completely lost in what I would later realize was the next level of sub-space. I was bound up here in this man's room, naked and at His mercy to torture and pleasure me for as long as He desired. The music swelled in perfect companionship to his surprise.

He reached to a side table and picked up the gag. My eyes widened. "Do we need to gag you?" He was asking himself more than asking me. "Nah, I want to hear my little girl scream out." He chuckled and put the gag back on the table. "But I will blindfold you." He smiled and placed a silk blindfold over my eyes, fixing my hair to look just the way he wanted it to look.

Now all of my senses were piqued and on full alert. Everything suddenly felt tingly and hyper-sensitive. My head was swirling and my breath was caught up in shallow spurts that seemed to keep rhythm with my heartbeat. I could hear him moving about behind me, gathering together his chosen punishment tool to use on me.

"Let's start you out slowly with a light flogging." Since I had not a clue as to what this entailed, I was pretty nervous. I almost could cry just from the overwhelming feeling of anticipation that flooded through me.

The flogger didn't hurt ... at first. Actually, it felt a little bit like a light but firm massage. I was enjoying the gentle snap of the soft cords on my skin. And then once He got going, really getting into the rhythm of whipping my buttocks, upper thighs – the wisps of the tips brushing against my sex, then suddenly shifting his attention to my shoulder blades with increasing pressure in every stroke, then it began to hurt, but oddly in a very pleasurable way. I could take it; I wanted to take it. He sensed that, and He switched from what felt like soft nylon to one made of leather, and as the strips of leather landed on my flesh it stung but to my utter amazement, pleasingly so. My eyes rolled back into my head and I slipped another level, deeper into sub-space.

He then untied my wrists from the suspension bar, cuffs still on, of course, and repositioned me face down on the bed with a slanted pillow tucked underneath to support me. I was dizzy with lust. My wet flower open to Him, my cunt and ass at the perfect angle to play with and torture. He spread my arms out and snapped each wrist to a thick chain that was hidden underneath the bed. My ankles were still stretched apart by the wide spreader bar. I was utterly helpless.

"Angels are weeping, Rory." He whispered and raked his soft fingertips all the way from my wrists, down my glistening back and upward through my inner thighs, as he admired his work. "You look so beautiful," he gently traced his fingers over the tiny welts that painted my creamy ass and thighs.

"Daddy's beautiful, slutty angel." I shuddered quietly at his touch and was helpless to the eroticism that consumed me. He controlled my body with his hands and words. I melted under his spell.

"Now, tell me. Have you been a bad girl, Rory?" He asked as He ran his hand over the length of my sex, eventually cupping it completely with his big hand. I hesitated in answering, lost in the moment, and He slapped me on my most sensitive part hard, causing me to buck forward and render a response.

"I,uh, " I stuttered, my throat dry and breathy. "Yes, Sir."

"Yes, Sir what, Rory?" He demanded, growing impatient.

My head swirled, it was difficult to concentrate. "Yes," I whimpered, "I've been ..." I hyper-ventilated for a minute, trying to formulate the words in my mouth, "a very bad girl, Sir." I whispered. "I'm very sorry. Please, Sir, don't punish me." I shuddered wondering what he would do with that information.

"You can be sorry all you want to, silly girl." He cooed, enjoying himself completely. "But that doesn't change the fact that Daddy will have to punish his little slut, and you know that." I felt the opening of my sex swell with arousal. He knew the effect He was having on me, and he grinned at me with dark humor. Instinctively, he plunged two of his fingers inside of me. I groaned with delight and humiliation. I rolled my head back and my thoughts got caught up in my throat.

"But I want you to tell me why Daddy has to punish his little girl, Rory." My head swirled, I felt lightheaded and on the edge tears. How could I tell him?

My voice was barely audible, as I felt broken down to a stupid little girl and not the self-possessed, confident young lady everyone normally knew me as. "Because Daddy's little slut didn't listen carefully enough to His directions the other day." I spoke the words too soft for anyone else besides Him to hear, dry mouthed and gulping for air.

"And what do you think your punishment should be, Rory?" He was going to make me say it, there was no getting out of this.

"I think that ..." I struggled with the revelation. "A spanking," I whispered these words at such a low decibel that they were nearly inaudible, "a spanking would teach me a lesson, Daddy." A few small tears crept out of the sides of each eye, but I was facing away from Him so that He couldn't see.

He brushed his hand up inside between my buttocks. I felt so aroused and peaceful. Tense and relaxed all at once, it was an awkwardly beautiful and seductive feeling. His little girl, waiting and ready for him to mold and develop and corrupt and play with, for anything He desired. I was so very wet in my nether region, and my heart was racing and I felt deliciously deceitful and slutty.

"Daddy is going to spank you, baby girl, and you're going to count them out, okay?" He rubbed the apples of my buttocks and warmed his hand up to punish me.

I whimpered and protested by shaking my head back and forth, to no avail. I then relented, "okay, Daddy." And a small tear fell, but He didn't even notice.

SMACK! Went His hand on my right cheek! FUCK! Ow! "One!" That stung so much, I didn't think I could take much more. But he swatted me again, this time on the upper left hand side of my butt.

"Ow!!" I screamed before counting, "two!" I kicked my feet up at him in protest. He didn't think that was cute. He smacked my ass again, this time right in the most fleshy center with his fingertips marking against my right fold.

"Three!" I squealed! And he continued his torment on my ass for a total of 100 spankings, until my make-up, what little I wore, was smeared down my face and I was completely and totally submissive and would do anything, anything He asked of me. I was broken and so happy and so aroused and so alive. I couldn't think of anything else except the euphoric feeling that I never wanted to have leave my being.

And that is when he positioned himself behind me and rubbed the tip of his long cock around my wet opening. I moaned. He grabbed my hips and pulled me back on Him, but not putting his length inside.


"Look at my dirty little girl," I started to weep from the release ... "Tell me, Rory, what do you want Daddy to do?"