Swim, Spank, Sarah!

Posted in: Masturbation

It is a hot day – sunny and humid with just the slightest breeze to tease perspiring skin once in a while. I have been working at the grocery store since 9 in the morning and am exhausted. Why I ever let my mother talk me into taking that job for the summer is beyond me – something about needing an honest job so I would appreciate college more. I had only flunked one class freshman year! She was so dramatic sometimes.

I pushed all thoughts of my mother out of my head and let you float in. I changed quickly into the very skimpy bikini you love so much and walked down over the lawn to the old wooden wharf. I spread my towel out and lay down, feeling the sun biting into my already tanned skin with a vengeance even for the late afternoon hour. My skin glistened with perspiration and I began to tingle as the black bikini bottoms absorbed the sun and made my bottom warm. I spread my legs a little wider and press my pelvis against the wood below me very gently.

I hear something in the water next to me and the next thing I know you’re there, dripping cool water down my back and legs. Your hand rubs over my bottom and then quick, light slaps rain down, creating more of a breeze than anything else. I smile at you and you kiss me, a hungry kiss that leaves us both breathless.

“You look like you’re being a dirty girl,” you growl in my ear.

I grin and kiss you again.

“Maybe I should be punished,” I suggest teasingly.

“I’m quite sure you should be,” you say as you pull my body toward you. I feel my side turn wet as it is pressed to your stomach and my hip is covered with your dripping paw, holding me still. Your other hands falls in hard, heavy slaps that make me squirm with delight. I moan as the tingle between my legs grows stronger and you stop.

“I think you’re enjoying this too much,” you say. “Perhaps my hand on your wet bottom would be better.”

I resist playfully as you swing my legs over the edge and lower me into the water just enough to wet my bottom, then lay me back over the dock, my butt very exposed as my legs hang harmlessly in the water.


Your hand goes to work again, faster this time and more sharply. I gasp and my legs kick just the tiniest bit as the burn starts across my pinkening cheeks.

“That hurts a little bit, does it,” you whisper in my ear and I nod.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was so bad,” I tell you, but my words are sarcastic and I smile as I say them. You respond by lowering the bikini, slowly working it down and completely off my legs. You toss it on the wharf beside me and I shiver as you pour cool water over my back and down over my prickling backside. Your wet hand rubs my lower back, slow circles that feel so good. Then it is my bottom you massage, running lightly and teasingly up and down, then kneading the fleshy cheeks hard enough to make me wince even as I moan in pleasure. “Please,” I beg, “I want you now.”

“But I’m not finished punishing you, my sweet,” you growl again, your voice husky and full of desire. I take secret pleasure in knowing you are dying to have me, too. The pleasure is short lived as you take out your frustration on my naked and now very wet behind, vicious slaps that leave me yelping and twisting to escape your hard hand. The water begins to churn as my legs scissor and then an especially hard flurry causes a large splash as my feet top the surface and kick down. I feel the droplets of water spray over me, making me shiver despite the warmth of the day and the fire you are building on my poor bottom.

“Oh, please! I’m sorry I was naughty,” I cry, breaking down into ragged sobs.

The assault stops and I feel your lips kissing the small of my back as your hand rubs gently over my burning buttocks. There is no doubt I have been punished, but the pain is secondary to my desire as your tongue and lips make a slow, sexy ascent up my sun-warmed back and shoulders, lingering for a long minute on my neck as I wiggle and moan and beg for you between my legs. You nibble my earlobe and whisper, “Almost done,” then I feel myself dragged from the wharf and held in your strong arms. You take care to keep my bottom above the surface, to not let it be cooled by the water. I feel fingers reach between my legs as you walk out further and my body shudders as you fondle me lightly, just enough to tease me. Your hand cups around my crotch and the other slaps gently on my punished globes. I wince and moan, both from pleasure and pain, until I cannot tell the difference between them. I just know I want you and I want you now. I struggle and you spank harder until I cry and beg you to stop.

I suddenly find myself treading water, the burning on my backside soothed but the other fire raging unchecked. I reach for the waistband of your trunks and yank them down to find you as hard as a rock. I feel your hands grab me roughly around the backs of my thighs as you help me find position. “Sarah, what is going on here,” you say, but your voice is strangely garbled, high and faint. “Sarah Dicenza, get out of that water this instant!”


My eyes fly open and I am suddenly very cold as I stand in the water, my hand so obviously engaged in a lascivious activity. I turn slowly and find myself staring at my mother, her expression one which causes me to tremble. So close to climax one second and so not turned on the next. “Mom, I was just…” I stammer, my face growing hot as I imagined the blush spreading.

“I know just what you were doing, you little hussy! Right here in broad daylight,” she said with disgust.

“It’s bad enough you go in half naked, but then to…to…get yourself out of that water right now!”

She couldn’t even say it. I went to the ladder, crawling up it shamefacedly, trying my best to keep my naked buttocks out of the reach of her stinging hand. She grabbed my elbow and marched me to the chaise lounge, sitting down and pulling me over her knees in one motion. “I’ll teach you what happens to dirty little girls around here,” she proclaimed as her hand slapped down on my wet cheeks with sharp, ringing spanks that immediately set me crying in pain and humiliation.

“Mom, please,” I begged through those first tears. “Not out here!”

“Well, you didn’t seem to mind disrobing for anyone to see and…and…well, you know what else!” God, even when she was angry she was such a prude. A prude with a hard hand who knew how to spank, mind you, but a prude nonetheless.

Five minutes passed, then ten, with no signs of her letting up. I had been reduced to a wailing child, and my arms and legs flailed and kicked and punched the ground and I was screaming bloody murder, knowing I was putting on a spectacle for anyone who happened to be passing by in a boat or, god forbid, a canoe or kayak that could come in closer to shore for a better view. When she at last ceased, I lay still, choking on my tears and mucous, quivering and clenching as the fire burned on my buttocks and thighs. I could hear her breathing heavily, but she still had enough strength to haul me up and lead me by the ear up over the hill, into the cottage, and up to my bedroom without breaking stride. My hands rubbed vigorously over my bottom, trying to put out some of the fire, but the prickling was too much and the tears kept flowing from my eyes.

She instructed me to take a shower and change into my nightclothes, which I was only too happy to do. Too embarrassed to look her in the eye, I stumbled to the bathroom and showered, a cold shower that helped ease some of the burn for at least a few minutes, then threw the lightest, softest nightie that I owned over my head. When I went back to my room, she was waiting, hairbrush in hand, and I was taken over her knee for the second time in an hour. She didn’t spank as hard as she usually did, but it was enough to start the wails and cries and promises to be good for ever and ever that so characterized a session with my mom and her trusty brush. I knew my sister was home and tried to keep it down, humiliated that she would know her big, 19-year-old sister was being spanked like a little girl. But it was no use and before mom was done I was a truly sorry young lady, sobbing and hiccuping as my bottom blazed and throbbed with pain.

She stood me up and made me look her in the eye. “I know you’re 19, Sarah, but that doesn’t mean you get to run around half-naked and do lewd things in public. If I ever catch you doing anything like that or hear of it, I won’t hesitate to paddle your little bottom again.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” I cried. “I won’t do it again, I promise!” She hugged me and helped me into bed, where I was instructed to stay for the rest of the night. I sobbed and sniffled for a long while, feeling sorry for myself being treated in such an infantile manner, but soon the pain in my backside slowed and was replaced by a throbbing that made me tingle all over. Despite my teary promise to my dear mother, my fingers found their way to my wetness and I again moaned, quietly of course, as ripples of pleasure passed through my groin and stomach. My back arched as my fingers moved faster and, as I lay in my bed and felt the cool breeze of a summer evening, I finished the fantasy that had been so rudely interrupted.

Promises made under duress are never meant to be kept, are they?

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