I originally published my story A Love Spanking in June of 2002 on what is now a Google group, soc.sexuality.spanking. At that time I titled the story Obedience. Some say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I recently found A Love Spanking lightly translated for a UK audience (where women wear knickers or pants, instead of panties and an ass is referred to as an arse) and published in the free story section of a commerical spanking publication Scarlet Magazine which describes itself as "The UK's Hottest Monthly Magazine for Women". The story was retitled He only hurts the one he loves. Since I can prove original authorship and Scarlet Magazine has (perhaps unknowingly) published a plagiarized version of my story without giving me any credit, I'm sure that they will not mind my republishing their version here. I've kept their formatting, along with their changes to my story.
They had been kissing on the couch. Now she was lying face down across his lap. He had flipped her skirt up and was caressing her bottom and pussy through the sheer fabric of her black string bikini pants. The delicate chiffon was damp with her excitement and, feeling it, he started to spank her with his hand. He began slowly, alternating between her buttocks, mixing the slaps with caresses between her spread thighs. And then, as the spanking continued, he gave her more slaps and fewer caresses until he was spanking her steadily and her bottom was starting to blush pink. His hand was also starting to get sore. His hand moved again to her pussy and pushed her hips up, moving her chiffon-covered clit against his fingers.
"Shall I take these panties down, little girl?" he asked.
"Mmm, yes, please, Sir," she answered, rubbing against him.
"Get me the ruler paddle."
"But you gave me a beating last night!" she complained.
He moved the sheer material aside, baring her right buttock, pushing the fabric between her cheeks.
"I don't see any marks. I can't have hit you that hard."
"Well, the cane hurt. A lot. And then you paddled me."
"And then...?" he said, running a finger over her pussy.
"And then you fucked me and I came hard. But the spanking hurt."
He slapped the cheek of the buttock he had bared. "Spankings are supposed to hurt, young lady," he reminded her. "Now get the paddle. And since we're discussing caning the tender bottom of a lovely young lady, bring me the cane too."
She got up from his lap. "Yes, Sir," she said, but with a pout. She adjusted her rucked-up pants and went upstairs. When she returned, carrying the paddle and the rattan cane, she was naked except for her tiny string, black against her pale skin. Looking at her wearing only a wisp of sheer fabric made his cock hard.
"You can put the cane on the table," he said, indicating the coffee table in front of the couch. He pulled her to him, between his legs.
"Pull down your knickers", he ordered. She slipped her pants down to the middle of her thighs. He caressed her bare pussy. She was very wet.
He took the paddle and she positioned her bottom over his right thigh. He caressed her bare bottom, slipping his fingers between her cheeks and down to her pussy. She spread her legs as far as the panties would allow as he rubbed her.
"You are so beautiful," he told her. "By strutting in wearing only those little pants were you hoping to seduce me into fucking you, instead of giving you a spanking?"
She moved against his hand, rubbing harder against him, her vulva slick with her wetness. "Yes, Sir. Don't you want to fuck me?" He slipped his thumb into her, rubbing her inside. His cock was rock hard.
"Yes, I want to fuck you. But I want to give you a hard spanking first." He withdrew his hand and began paddling her. He started out slowly giving her a few strokes and then stopping to caress her. Soon, however, he was giving her five and then ten strokes at a time. She lay still and took her spanking, but as her bottom became sore she started crying out with each stroke. When he stopped paddling her, her bottom was blushed crimson and hot as he ran his palm over the curve of her buttocks.
"You've been a very good girl, lying still and taking your spanking," he told her. "Now I want you to bend over the back of the couch." She stood up and bent over the back of the couch, resting her hands on the seat cushions. Bent over like this, her bottom was arched upward, cheeks slightly spread, leaving her pussy and arse totally exposed, presented for the cane or his cock. She felt the hot stinging burn of the first stroke. She drew her breath in sharply as she felt the wash of pain. After the first few strokes she was crying out after each one. He caned the lower part of her bottom and her upper thighs, giving her a few seconds between each stroke. As he spanked her, the cries merged together until she was crying softly, tears streaking her face. After a time the caning stopped and she felt him caress her, rubbing her pussy, which was soaking with arousal. After the burning strokes of the cane his caress felt delicious. Her bottom and the tops of her thighs were crimson, lined with cane welts.
She heard his clothes slide off him as he undressed behind her. He spread her pussy lips and slipped his cock inside. His thrusts were deep and hard, as he pulled his cock almost all the way out of her with each thrust. She loved the feel of his hard dick and she arched back, pushing her bottom upward as she had when she took the cane. But after a few minutes he withdrew."Oh, please..." she said a bit breathlessly, wanting his cock again.
"I want you to go up to our bedroom and lay out the spanking strap on the bed and lie over the pillows," he told her as he withdrew.
She stood up. "May I rub?"
"Yes, you may." She rubbed her sore bottom. Her buttocks felt fevered and she could feel the cane welts, like hard little scars lining her bottom and upper thighs. She went to their bedroom and got the spanking strap from the closet. It had a long thick leather lash with a wooden handle. She thought about how much the strap would hurt across her sore welted bottom. She lay across the bed, the pillows under her hips, pushing her bottom up.
"Good girl," he told her when he came up a few minutes later. He picked up the strap. "Push that arse up for me and put your fingers on your clit." She reached under herself and put her index finger and middle finger on her clit. "Massage that naughty little clit for me," he ordered. She did as she was told, knowing that her pussy was on display, her breathing becoming harder.
The strap cracked down across her arse, pushing her into the pillow, surprising her with its thud of pain. She kept her bottom up as he spanked her, crying out under the strokes. Every five strokes or so he would stop and make her rub her clit more. He would wait until her fingers started moving faster, still crying softly from her spanking, drawing sharp breaths, before he started strapping her again, keeping her on the edge of orgasm, the pain of the strap not letting her get over. Then he put down the strap and moved behind her, spreading her pussy, fucking her hard as she rubbed her clit. Her bottom and thighs were sore and hot and it hurt as he slammed into her. She was still crying when her orgasm came, shuddering, in a blinding white light. And he came too, with one final thrust, and then bent over her body, arms wrapped tight round her as she came down to earth.