I’m Clair, and this story really begins some months ago when my partner Owen and I were making love, this time with me crouching over him with his cock buried deep in my bouncing pussy. Now that was unusual in itself, because I have always been much more passive than Owen and it was a big change for me to be taking the lead. In fact I got to feel guilty for taking over his role and all of a sudden that guilt translated into a need to be chastised for my presumption. I’ve never wanted to be spanked before, but I suddenly felt I should have my rear smacked because I was fucking him instead of the other way around.

‘Smack my bottom.’ I demanded abruptly. ‘Slap it hard.’

I felt Owen suddenly go rigid beneath me and I thought for a moment that I’d killed his passion, but what I didn’t know was that I’d just asked him to fulfil a long held fantasy of his own. With a quick grin of pleasure he released my hips, wrapped one arm around my back to pull me down against his chest and smacked me as hard as he could with the other on my upturned rear. I must admit it hurt more than I had expected, but it also worked better than I had expected too. The thrill that passed through me was out of this world, and I just wanted it again and again. I never thought hurting could be described as delicious – but it can.

‘Keep doing it.’ I groaned, ramming myself down on him even harder.

He did exactly that and even from the awkward angle of being underneath me he managed to work it so that each time I raised my bottom, his hand came down on it with surprising force. I gasped aloud with each smack and rode him harder and faster, my orgasm rapidly creeping up on me. At the time I wasn’t certain (although I am now), but it seemed to me that his cock got harder and longer as he smacked me as if it was getting to him too. As for me, I loved it, every hot, throbbing, stinging second of it, and when I came I thought I was going to pass out it was that good, especially when I felt him come inside me as well, his cock jerking repeatedly and sending spurt after spurt of cum into my womb.

Afterwards, as we lay in each other’s arms in our customary post-coital embrace he asked. ‘You liked being spanked, didn’t you?’

‘I loved it.’ I felt delightfully embarrassed to admit it, but I couldn’t deny it. ‘And you enjoyed doing it, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’ He answered simply, waiting silently for a while before adding. ‘I think we’ll be doing it again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

I smiled and hid my embarrassment by nuzzling into his neck. ‘Yes please.’

That was the beginning of it. It soon became a regular part of our sex life for him to spank me as we played together. Not too much early on, but enough to make me squirm and gasp – and to redden my skin. We enjoyed it, of course we did, both of us, and it tended to become more intense as time went on. At first I would bend over his knee or a chair and he would spank me with his hand before fucking me, usually still bent over. But then we began using other things, like a belt or the back of a hairbrush. That was fine until we realised we’d get an even bigger thrill from using things made for the job. So first we bought a spanking paddle, then a couple of multi-tailed floggers of different designs, and a riding crop, and one or two other bits as well. We moved on to them, and I loved all of it. I know it sounds unlikely, but it is so empowering to have someone trying to hurt you and only succeeding in bringing you pleasure. I’m not sure Owen understood that, but he liked doing it for his own reasons and the main thing is that we both enjoyed it.

The only trouble was that sometimes I would instinctively try and mitigate the force of his smacks by flinching away so that he missed his target. One day he shouted in exasperation that if I didn’t keep bent over the damn chair he’d tie me over it so I’d have to. That was the second defining moment. The idea of being tied over the chair and made helpless made my pussy just about flood and my next climax was my biggest ever. I loved the idea that he could spank or fuck me and I couldn’t prevent it – not that I wanted to, because by doing that he could make me come by simply spanking me.

From then on the direction of our experimentation changed and we began to try different ways of immobilising me, making it so that there was no way for me to avoid whatever he wanted to do to me. I did trust him, but we instigated a safe word system just to be sure, because then I could happily let him do pretty much anything, safe in the knowledge that I could always stop him if it ever went too far. So far it never has, but the fact that we have a safety net has given me the confidence to submit completely.

Sometimes Owen would simply spank me for no other reason than he wanted to, and sometimes he would play with me, making me squirm and beg for a climax, and then he would spank me for begging. Then on other occasions he would masturbate me by hand until he made me come and then discipline me bomonti escort for being a slut, and then do it all over again. We did all sorts of stuff in all sorts of positions, but my favourite thing by far was when Owen handcuffed my wrists to a couple of rings that he had screwed about three feet apart into a beam in our bedroom ceiling, and then held my legs open with a spreader bar. Then he really could do anything he wanted, because every little bit of me was available to him and deliciously defenceless. He could stroke and fondle me, touch my breasts, play with my pussy, finger me, and do anything else he might think of. It was absolutely glorious. I found everything like that a fantastic turn on and we used it as a kind of foreplay, something that would give me a climax or two before taking us into making love properly. It was never an end in itself, just an erotic lead up to more conventional sex.

Then came another defining moment, the one that took our sex lives down a totally unexpected and far more exciting path. It happened when someone caught us at play. I was bent over the back of a chair with my rear obliquely facing the dining room window when Haydn, one of our friends, peered in and was rewarded by the sight of my naked backside. It was just one of those things, we’d been careless and probably a little bit blasé and we’d not drawn the curtains as we usually did. Owen quickly went to the door and steered Haydn into another room while I made myself decent before joining them. Haydn said he’d knocked on the door and received no reply and that’s why he looked in through the windows, and who am I to refute that?

I can’t be sure about Owen’s, but afterwards my thoughts were continually going back to that episode and wondering just how much of me Haydn had seen and, perhaps more importantly, how much of the scene he had understood. Bizarrely I hoped he had seen and understood everything, as we found out later, he had. I didn’t know why, but being seen like that made me feel as randy as hell every time I thought about it and I almost wished Owen had brought him through to see me in the flesh, so to speak. After all, Haydn is an extremely good looking man. It was not so much because I was an outright exhibitionist, but because of the embarrassment of it. The truth was that the thought of anyone knowing how Owen used me was really exciting, and the humiliation of being caught in such a vulnerable and exposed position was wonderful. I even fantasized about someone being there watching during a whole session, right up to me getting fucked. I couldn’t get it out of my head and I just knew that I was going to have to talk to Owen about it, and hope he’d understand.

When I did tell him he frowned and went quiet for short while, but then he nodded and smiled. It had, he admitted, been a turn on for him too. He liked the idea that he had inadvertently shown me to another man.

‘What would you want to do if it happened again?’ I asked cautiously, the implications raised by the way the conversation was heading sparking all sorts of erotic ideas in my head.

‘Why, would you like it to happen again, deliberately?’ He tossed it right back at me.

I took the bull by the horns. ‘Yes, and I think you would too. You’d get a buzz from me exposing myself like that to someone, wouldn’t you?’

He looked taken aback for a minute by that assertion, but then he had to acknowledge the truth of it. ‘Yes, I think I would.’ He paused. ‘In fact I know I would. But truthfully, would you really like anyone to see you like that, you know, showing everything?’

‘Why not?’ I grinned. ‘There are worse things to see.’

Owen just chuckled at that and went into the kitchen, the subject clearly being put in abeyance. It wasn’t mentioned again until about a week later and then Owen brought it up with a sudden question.

‘You remember talking about someone watching you?’

‘Yes, I remember.’ Of course I did, I’d thought of little else since and the fact that he had brought the subject up again immediately sent adrenalin rushing through my veins.

‘What if he wanted to do more than just watch?’

I gasped with surprise at that. ‘You mean what if he wanted to touch me as well?’

‘Yes.’ He answered simply. ‘Would you like that?’

‘I don’t know.’ I answered, feeling a little scared. ‘How far would you want him to go?’

‘As far as you’re prepared to let him.’ He replied, his eyes trying to read my thoughts, wondering perhaps what my reaction would be.

‘How far do you want me to let him?’ I threw it back just as he had earlier.

‘All the way. Anything he wants to do. You could let him use you however he likes.’

‘Anything?’ I repeated in a whisper, my mouth suddenly dry at the thought of what he meant.

‘If you’d like him to, yes.’ He told me. ‘How about I tie you to the ceiling rings and give him full access?’

‘Full access?’ I repeated. The adrenalin hit from that thought made cihangir escort me physically wobble. ‘For everything?’ My mind was doing somersaults coming to terms with what he meant, but I could feel myself lubricating at the thought of it. ‘Yes. All right, but are you sure?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘What’s brought this on all of a sudden?’ I asked, still in shock but feeling unbelievably excited at what he was proposing.

‘I’ll tell you in a moment, but I’ve got to ask you something first.’

‘All right.’ I answered, curious about what he had in mind and hoping it was something else just as stimulating.

‘What if it’s a couple?’

That stopped me dead. I shook my head emphatically. ‘No, I’m not into women.’ Actually that wasn’t totally true, I had sometimes wondered what it was like, but never enough to want to do anything about it.

‘I didn’t mean she would be for you. I meant she would be for me.’

‘Fucking hell!’ I stared at him wide eyed, my sudden use of such an expletive expressing my amazement. ‘Are you on about wife swapping?’

‘In a way, I suppose I am.’ He paused. ‘I mean for me to be able to do to his partner whatever he can do to you.’

I stared at him wide eyes whilst my brain digested what was involved.

‘It’s only fair after all.’ He said.

It was, I knew it was, but it still took me a few minutes to accept it. ‘All right.’ I told him. ‘So long as we’re all in the same room. I want to see what you get up to.’ That much was true; the thought of actually watching him with someone else was beginning to get me going even more.

‘And.’ I added after thinking about it for a moment or two. ‘So long as the couple are chosen by both of us.’

‘I don’t think that will be a problem.’ He chuckled.

‘You’ve got someone in mind, haven’t you?’ The light was beginning to dawn. ‘All right, who?’

‘You asked what brought this conversation on?’ He reminded me. I nodded. ‘Well, a couple of days ago I ran into Haydn. It’s the first time I’d seen him since – well, since you know when.’

He paused as if wondering if he could continue.

‘When Haydn saw you bent over like that he guessed what we were doing. He could tell because he does the same with Leah. They’re into what we’re into.’

‘What, they like that sort of thing too?’ I gasped in surprise, that was something I’d never thought about them. But then I suppose they hadn’t thought of us doing it either. ‘So you’re thinking of asking them?’

‘Well, no. I don’t have to. Haydn’s already asked me if we’d be interested in having a joint session.’

‘What did you say?’ I was still astounded, but I was already hoping.’

‘I said yes, so long as you agreed.’

‘I agree!’

Thinking about it later I wondered if I should have been a little more reticent, not that it would have made much difference to the outcome, but maybe I looked a little bit too eager?

‘You know what you’re agreeing to, don’t you?’ He asked. ‘You’ll be expected to let someone else do anything they want to you, and their preferences might be very different to mine.’

‘I know.’ I assured him. ‘But maybe it’s time I stretched myself in that department. They say that all experience is good experience.’

‘So long as you’re sure.’

I nodded my consent. There was little point in asking Owen if he agreed. The bulge in his jeans answered that question. I left it to Owen to make the arrangements, all I wanted to know was when, and then it couldn’t come soon enough. It seemed ages before the agreed evening came and they were sitting opposite us engaging in stilted small talk while we all wondered how the session would play out.

I’ve always found Haydn and Leah to be a nice, friendly couple and very easy to get along with. They sort of straddle our age group, he’s perhaps a year or two older than us and Leah is about three or four years younger, maybe in her mid twenties. She is tall, taller then me by a good inch or so, and with a fuller, more solid figure, dark hair and brown eyes and a smiling, happy face; all in all she’s a very attractive girl. Haydn is just as good looking, but in a very different way. He’s Mr Average in terms of weight, height, build, colouring, and so on, all unremarkably mid range, but what makes him stand out is his roguish smile and confident bearing.

While we were sitting and talking Owen went upstairs for something and shortly after that Leah needed to use the bathroom. But when she came down she was grinning from ear to ear and obviously bursting to say something. We all looked at her expectantly.

‘Your bedroom door was open.’ She began. ‘And I couldn’t help but glance in as I went past.’

I didn’t quite believe the “couldn’t help but glance” bit, but then I’d have sneaked a peek too in her place. Obviously Owen had left the bedroom door open and I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. I remembered that we’d left our cuffs fixed firmly to the rings in the ceiling kurtuluş escort and then I wondered if Owen had gone upstairs purposely to open the bedroom door.

‘You know those things you have fastened to the beam? That’s exactly what I keep asking Haydn to do.’

‘Leah is submissive.’ Haydn explained, rather needlessly in the circumstances. ‘She loves to be told what to do, and disciplined if she fails. But I guess she’d not on her own in that, is she?’

I went red, but otherwise both Owen and I chose to ignore the obvious reference to how he first saw me.

‘Is that what you would use them for?’ Owen asked Leah, hurriedly moving the conversation on.

‘Yes, for Haydn to fasten me to when he needs to punish me.’ Leah answered for them both. ‘Then he can flog both my front and my back.’

‘Don’t you have anything like that?’ Owen asked.

‘Not yet.’ She giggled. ‘I have to lean on the wall with my legs apart when I do anything wrong, but then he can only strike my back and bottom.’

‘Where would you like him to hit you?’

‘Anywhere, all down my front would be good, especially my tits, and maybe even on my pussy.’

I thought that a little bit severe, but who were we to decide what the right thing was? I thought our playful use of ceiling rings was sexier than using them purely for punishment, but maybe Leah enjoyed pain more than I did. It’s whatever floats your boat, as the saying goes, and I must admit I had occasionally wanted Owen to take me further down that road myself. It seemed I was more passive than Leah was; I enjoyed having things done to me while she enjoyed being made to do things. Similar but different. I looked at Owen with an eyebrow raised, silently asking if he was thinking the same way. He nodded briefly. We were game if they were.

We had a couple more drinks and chatted for a while about our inclinations and how nobody tended to talk about such things. We agreed that it was good to meet someone else who thought the same. We told each other how we’d come to find out what we liked, we’d both kind of drifted further into it without intending to, and then we began to discuss just what we did like, and it got a whole lot more personal and revealing. For instance it seemed that Leah liked having her tits slapped. Now that wasn’t something we’d ever tried, it just hadn’t occurred to us, but it sounded good to me and was added to my mental to try list, along with her taste for having clothes pegs, “clothes pins” she called them, fastened to her nipples and labia. We’d not thought of using them, instead we’d laid out cash on proper clamps. From the other way around, we told of our fondness for bending me over the back of a chair and strapping my ankles to its legs while Owen fucked me with whatever he had to hand. Leah asked me what sort of things we had used and when I told her everything from a cucumber to a coke bottle.

‘You can do that to me if you want.’ She told Haydn, her voice getting thick with arousal.

‘What do you make Leah do?’ Owen asked Haydn, perhaps wondering if he could get me to do similar.

Well, they told us, Haydn would sometimes make her leave her underwear off when they went out, and then get her to “accidentally” catch her skirt up as they walked down the road so that anyone near got a peek underneath. She said that she went as red as a beetroot but got as excited as hell. Then, when they got home, he’d punish her for showing off, and that would get them both horny enough to fuck. Another thing he would tell her to do, although not yet in public, was to masturbate while he watched. Neither were things that I’d enjoy, although on reflection I’d get a kick out of someone watching while Owen masturbated me. I’d hide my face in shame whilst he did it, but I’d also come like an express train. As I said, I liked to be made use of rather than instructed. Our inclinations were close, but not identical.

Then Owen picked up on Haydn having Leah masturbate while he watched her. ‘Have you ever let anyone else watch?’ He asked them.

‘Not yet. Though Leah says she wants to.’ Haydn replied, making my stomach lurch from the implied possibility. ‘That might be one of the reasons we’re here.’

‘Then it’s time we did something about it.’ Owen told him, starting things off at long last. ‘But before we do, we have a safe word, and we’d like you agree to use it too, that way we’ll all be sure things won’t get carried too far.

We told them what it was and they agreed that if anybody used it, everything would stop instantly.

‘Are there any other limits?’ Haydn asked.

‘None, we don’t need any limits if we have a safe word.’ Owen told him, looking at me for concurrence.

‘No limits.’ I agreed, the words making my stomach flutter. ‘Shall we go up to the bedroom? Every thing we’ll need is up there.’

‘Including cucumbers?’ Leah quipped, deliberately killing off any remaining anxieties.

‘I think we used the last one.’ I joked back, looking hard at Owen’s crotch. ‘But I bet we can find something else growing.’

There was only one more hurdle to overcome when we got upstairs and Haydn promptly cleared that one out of the way.

‘Now you’ve been on about showing yourself off, so take your things off and show our friends your wares.’ He commanded Leah.

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