Final Shudders
Finale Shudders
He pulls her round to face him. Bare below the navel, pale skin, feeling the sudden coolness of a passing draft, she flushes again and a sheen of sweat breaks out on her skin. How can she be so hot but shivering, so dry in the mouth and damp in the body!
With his arm around her waist and her leg shackled, she’s powerless to resist as she’s tipped unceremoniously upside down, but even as she shoots her right hand out to take control of her descent she finds that wrist held as well, she’s going down under his control.
A momentary adjustment and she’s been put in her position, arranged, tipped over, dangling head down, right leg locked into the crook of his right arm pressed against her back, her rear jutting unwillingly up, bare; displayed; waiting.
He pauses, lets her appreciate the undignified state she’s in. She’s only too aware of it, unable to move, yet still swaying precariously, barely able to touch the floor with her free hand, her open blouse covering only her shoulders serving merely to highlight her nakedness, the empty bra cups brushing mockingly against her swaying breasts.
The first slap comes as a shock and she yells, twists, unable to jump, as she feels every callous on his hand imprinted into her rear. Then there’s a surreal silence as she grits her teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her squeal.
Her stomach gives that little lurch again, and not just from the driving thud of her pelvis into the solidity of his supporting leg. Her left hand is off the floor and waving spasmodically in a feeble gesture that says ‘look at me, I’m being spanked, I’m helpless.’
She can feel her breasts jiggling about foolishly with each slap, her face is burning and her eyes prickling with tears.
Her muffled sob is a signal to him and the slaps suddenly come faster. She’s bouncing about over his knee, hair flying, sobbing and yelling, her left leg flailing impotently, struggling against his grip.
“Quiet down!”
She feels a stinging slap against her thigh, and again, as her legs are slapped into settling down a semblance of order. She has an awful hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach: it’s the realization that although she has had enough, more in fact, she’s being obliged to settle herself to accept more, to take whatever he thinks she is due.
Then it continues. Her already sore flesh stings and aches, each fresh slap sending a rush of shocks through her. And it spreads, from her rear, to the tops of her thighs, and onwards, engulfing her.
Instead of kicking, her left leg is thrust out, rigid, except for the muscle-spasm twitches. It’s the last vestige of her self-control, reflecting her inner tension as she attempts to endure, to hold out and say to herself ‘I survived it’, even as she stifles the sobs and feels the tears dripping.
But as it’s a prop to her, so it signals her resistance to him, with each jerking twitch telegraphing how close is the final collapse.
Tears… real tears, welling up in uncontrolled sobs, she slumps limply, emotionally naked at last, as her overwhelming finale shudders through her body.
Tandi
