SPANKS?, A LOT! A Fantasy by Sardonicus They had discussed his "offense", as was their custom, and had negotiated the punishment he would suffer. He was her immediate supervisor, in the "real" world, and had made light of a serious suggestion she had made. It wouldn't have been too bad had he not done it in front of all her peers, right in the main office. She felt that made it a "major" offense. She wanted to give him a "spanking" consisting of 300 blows. He thought that many blows might result in bruising and argued for 100, instead. Finally, they compromised on 200 blows, with a thin wooden paint stirrer, and she promised to give him a "lovely handjob", assuming, of course, he would still be able to get off, after she was through with his punishment. He laughed at the thought that any number of blows from such a light, stinging instrument could have any effect on his orgasmic ability, and agreed to the terms. That was how he found himself in his present situation. It was a typical mid-summer afternoon in Southern California...about eighty degrees, and not a cloud in the sky. He was naked, as he always was for one of their "sessions". She had made him strip and had taken him out onto the covered, completely private patio, just off the dining room. She had made him buckle the soft, sturdy leather cuffs onto his wrists and ankles very snugly, then had hooked his wrists together with a snap hook through their attached rings. Then, using a two-step stool that was handy, she had raised his arms over his head and hooked the other end of the snap hook onto a sturdy ring that was screwed into one of the overhead beams of the patio cover. That left him with his arms stretched over his head, but still able to stand comfortably, with his feet flat on the patio deck. Next, she tied lengths of sturdy clothesline to the rings on his ankle cuffs and pulled his legs apart as far as she could before tying them off to tie-downs that were discretely located on the patio floor. That left him up on his tiptoes, legs widely spread, with his arms now very tightly held straight up over his head. She raked his chest and belly with her fingernails and noted, with amusement, that his cock was starting to "take an interest" in the proceedings. She then went inside to "get some more stuff". His position was a little uncomfortable, but not unbearable. He thought it strange that she had strung him up like this for a spanking. He would have thought she would have tied him in some bent over position, to better expose his buttocks for the punishment to come. Once a session had begun, however, the rules were quite strict. He was not able to ask any questions, or to complain in any way. He could speak only in response to a direct question from her and could, of course, make any "involuntary" noises that her punishments might force out of him. The long-ago-negotiated punishment for a breach of this major rule was so harsh that he would never dream of a transgression. He had done so, once, and had found that half-an-hour tied straddling a one inch thick dowel rod, suspended between two stepladders, was excruciatingly painful. Even though it had done no permanent damage to that tender spot between his balls and asshole (much to his amazement), he would never do anything that would force him to endure that agony, again. When she returned, she had changed into her typical outfit for a "session". She wore a very brief thong bikini, with a miniscule halter top, that showed off her trim and tanned athletic figure to its best advantage. Her feet were bare, as always. She knew her pretty feet turned him on, and she liked anything that added to the "tease". She had some things in her hand that she placed on a small table behind him, strategically out of his field of vision. Returning to his front, she grasped his cock, now very erect, in her left hand, and gave it several smooth strokes from base to crown. Releasing it, she watched with amusement as it bobbed up and down, then gave it a sharp smack with her open palm, right on the sensitive head. His genitals were clean shaven, except for a light dusting of pubic hair just above his cock. She had extracted his promise to keep his cock and balls hairless back when they had first started to play their little game. He hadn't objected too much, particularly after she pointed out that it made his cock appear even larger than it already was. She also insisted that he keep his armpit and chest hair closely trimmed, another requirement that caused him no problem. "Looks like one part of you is definitely ready for some action," she was grinning. "How about the rest of you? Are you ready to begin?" Since it was a direct question, their rules allowed him to respond. "Yes. I'm as ready as I'll ever be." He wanted to ask her why he was tied in such a strange position for a spanking, but resisted a question that was certain to earn him some serious pain. Besides, he was pretty certain he'd get a full explanation from her as she began to work on him. "You look pretty good, all stretched out like that." She was right in front of him, squeezing his balls with one hand, while she stroked his cock with the other. "It never fails to amaze me that you will allow me to tie you up like this, even though you know I'm going to do some very cruel things to you. I guess it must have something to do with the pleasure I always give you, after the pain. Your orgasms must be pretty powerful, because they have an effect on you just like a drug. Today is a great example of how your normally sharp thinking process can be thoroughly dulled just by the prospect of a little sex and pain cocktail." She still hadn't said anything he could respond to, so he remained silent, awaiting her pleasure. "Actually, I was surprised that you agreed to 200 smacks so easily. I was hoping to get you to agree to 75, or 100, maybe, but 200...whew! You probably should have thought to stipulate where you're going to be getting those smacks. You just assumed, since I was talking about a spanking, that the punishment would be applied to your butt, didn't you?" She was enjoying the expression on his face tremendously. It was apparent that a small light was beginning to come on. "You can answer me," she smiled. "Yes, of course I did." He wanted to ask her where else a spanking could be administered, but thought better of it. Questions were not permitted. "Silly you. You know that a paint stirrer is just a little bigger and wider than a twelve inch ruler, so you figured I couldn't do much damage to your buns with such an instrument. You thought this would be the easiest orgasm you've earned, didn't you?" "Honestly, yes," he responded. I figured it would sting quite a bit, but shouldn't be too bad. I was delighted that you weren't going to use something heavier, or maybe even a whip or crop." "You should know me well enough, by now, to be suspicious any time you think you're going to be getting off easily. You know how much pleasure I get from tormenting and teasing you." She took a firm grip on his balls with her left hand and stretched them out and away from his body as far as they would go. "No. Nature has provided the perfect place for torturing a man with such a small, stinging device. It should be interesting to see if you can take 200 smacks on your balls and still manage to have an orgasm. I know you get turned on by a certain amount of pain, but this may be too much, even for you. What do you think? Hmmm?" She released his balls and waited expectantly for his response. "I think I've definitely learned a lesson," he said, wryly. "It never occurred to me that a 'spanking' would be administered anywhere but to my ass, and I thought 200 smacks on my ass with a paint stirrer would be a piece of cake. You're right. I should have been suspicious when it sounded so easy. I won't make that mistake again." "I'll just bet you won't!," she was amused. "Well, I guess we better get the show on the road. The first thing we need to do is make sure this big boy doesn't get in the way." She was lightly stroking his cock as she said this. She stepped behind him to the small table, then returned to his front, holding a pair of shiny little alligator clamps, connected by a thin steel chain some twelve inches in length. She started with his left nipple, teasing and pinching it with her sharp fingernails until it stood erect. "You have such nice little nips," she said. "They look just like pencil erasers and they're very sensitive, aren't they?" As she said this, she opened one of the clamps and positioned it at the center of his left nipple's tip. When she was satisfied with its location, she released the jaws and let the sharp teeth of the clamp close on him. Breath whistled sharply between his teeth, followed by a murmered "Owwwwww!" "These ARE fairly intense clamps," she said, with mock seriousness. "But they have to have a very firm grip, because they're going to be supporting a lot of weight." This was said with a grin and a quick hefting of his cock. She went through the same routine with his right nipple, getting another moan from him when the sharp teeth bit home. With both nipples clamped, she gave the chain between them a couple of sharp tugs, seeming pleased with his pained reaction. "That ought to do the trick. Now let's get your cock hooked up..." She stepped behind him again and returned with a three foot length of rawhide, probably a boot-lace, he thought. She gave his cock a few smooth strokes, which made his erection seem harder than he would have thought possible, particularly under the circumstances. With him fully erect, she doubled the leather cord at its midpoint and formed a loop at the closed end by passing the loose ends through it. The loop went over his cock, where she pulled it very tight, about two inches behind its quickly purpling crown. Then she took the loose ends and passed them behind the chain connecting his nipples. She pulled them over the chain until she was satisfied that his cock was stretched upright as far as possible, and that it was exerting a maximum amount of pull on his nipples, which were now being painfully stretched by the nasty little clamps. She tied the loose ends off around the chain and seemed quite satisfied with the results of her efforts. She scored the sensitive head of his cock with a sharp fingernail. It caused him to jerk in his bonds, and created a nasty pull on the nipple clamps. "Now all we have to do is get your balls properly prepared for their spanking." She was grinning, but her tone was almost officious. He now fully understood that this was going to be a very tough session for him to endure. He was afraid to imagine what she was going to do to "prepare" his balls for their imminent torture. She left him there while she went into the garage and retrieved a sturdy aluminum stepladder, setting it up right in front of him, with the step side facing away. It was one of the two that she had used to support the dowel rod he had to straddle when he was punished for speaking without permission. She had to nudge it around a bit to get it just where she wanted it, with the back feet between his widely spread legs. He was completely mystified as to her intentions, and his arms were really starting to ache from supporting most of his weight. He wanted to tell her about his arms, but could not. They had a "safe" word, of course. At any time during a session, if he should be unable to continue, he had but to speak the word and the session would stop at once. She would immediately release him from bondage and see to whatever was causing him distress. He would never use the word unless he was in very serious trouble, however, because the conditions of using it were severe. The session would end at that point, and he would not experience the sexual pleasure he was promised after enduring his punishment. In addition, before another session could take place, he would have to spend a half hour straddling the dreaded dowel rod, with his arms tied, wrists to elbows, behind him, and his legs widely spread by means of thin cords tied to his big toes. The position forced the entire weight of his body on a very small, very sensitive area between his legs. He knew, from experience, that it would do him no physical damage, but the pain was excruciating. He would never use the safeword unless he was in very, very dire straits, indeed. His arms starting to ache from his bondage definitely did not qualify. Satisfied with the ladder's position, she stepped behind him again and returned with another 36" length of rawhide boot lace, and a plastic bucket. She doubled the leather cord, made a loop in the closed end, and, pulling his balls down in his scrotum as far as she could, placed the loop over them and pulled it snug. It trapped his balls at the very bottom of his scrotum, making them very tight, and very shiny. She demonstrated their sensitivity by pulling on the cord with one hand and raking them with the sharp fingernails of her other. "Pretty neat, huh?," she teased. "There's even a little line of separation between them. Kinda makes 'em look like a little pair of buttocks. Very appropriate for a spanking, don'tcha think?" She expected no answer and he gave none. She took the end of the cord, pulled it over one of the round ladder rungs which was about three feet off the ground, then tied it to the handle of the plastic pail, which she let swing free at the end of the leather. The pail was now suspended, underneath the stepladder, about two and a half feet from the patio deck, pulling his balls straight out in front of him. His worst fears were realized when she retrieved a coiled garden hose from the corner of the patio, turned on the water, and began filling the pail. She said nothing, preferring to concentrate on the pail, which filled rapidly, getting heavier by the second. The pull on his testicles was getting very bad. The pail looked like it would hold about two gallons of water. He knew a gallon weighed somewhere around five pounds so he would have ten pounds pulling on his balls if she filled it all the way. He wasn't sure he could take that much weight without suffering some damage. Mercifully, she stopped when the pail was about two-thirds full, then returned the hose to its storage place. "Well, it looks like everything's in its proper place," she said cheerily, retrieving the paint stirrer from the table behind him. "Let me just make sure that all is secure." Using the stirrer, which was hardwood, about 14 inches long by two inches wide, and about an eighth of an inch thick, she lifted up and then released the cord from his balls to the ladder. They were being stretched out very tautly by the heavy bucket of water. She lifted the cord about three inches and, when she released it, allowing the bucket to drop suddenly, he grunted loudly. Pleased, she stuck the stirrer under the chain between his nipples and pulled it slightly away from his chest, watching his reaction. Then she slid it behind his cock and forced it away from his belly. His eyes told her that it hurt, and that was clearly the response she was after. "Looks like you're not going anywhere for a while," she said, "and your balls aren't going to be moving a great deal, either. That's important, 'cause I wouldn't want to miss them, would I?" He didn't think a response was called for, and didn't want to waste any of the energy he was sure to be needing for the upcoming ordeal. "Okay. You understand why you are being punished? Correct?" "Yes. I understand" "And you understand that you are to receive two hundred smacks to your balls with this little stick?" She was unable to stand directly in front of him because of the stepladder. She stood very close, just to his right, and watched his eyes, closely. "That 'little stick' looks pretty intimidating to someone in my present situation," he responded, somewhat truculently. "I'm going to let you get away with that, since it WAS in response to a question. It wasn't responsive to the question, however, so you were dangerously close to a session with the dowel. I KNOW you wouldn't want that, again. I'm going to start, now. I must say your balls look like they're just begging to be hit, all stretched out in front of you like that. Is the weight from the pail causing you discomfort?" "Yes, a great deal." "Too bad. Your cock still looks like you could cut diamonds with it, so it can't be too awful. Maybe the spanking will help you forget about the weight. Let's see." Since she was left-handed, she walked around behind him to his left side. She rested the flat stick lightly atop his bound testicles for a moment, then raised it about a foot above them and struck downward quickly. SMACK!!! "Ahhhh!", he exclained. "I'll bet that really stings. That was a loud impact." As always, she was watching his eyes. She delivered a second smack, without warning, extracting another loud yelp from him. "If you're gonna make that much noise, I may have to gag you. I know the nearest neighbors are over 300 yards away, but a yelp like that can carry on a quiet afternoon. Do you want me to get a gag?" "No. I'll try to restrain myself. That DOES sting horribly." He was already starting to breathe a little rapidly. He knew this was going to be bad. She gave him eight more smacks, in rapid succession, and seemed pleased that he was able to limit his response to a few sharp releases of breath. "There. You've had ten already. How are your little eggs doing?" "This is a lot worse than I had imagined. I'm not sure I can take this. My balls feel like they're on fire. Are you sure there's no bleeding?" This was met with ten more sharp, stinging smacks, delivered with a couple of seconds between each blow. He had suddenly started to perspire, with rivulets of sweat rolling down his chest and sides. His bondage allowed him no movement, whatsoever, so he just had to hang there while his balls were tortured. He had jerked back, involuntarily, in response to a couple of the blows, but the resulting pain to his, already stretched to the limit, testicles caused him to carefully resist his reflex-based responses. He wanted to be as still as possible, and he wanted this ordeal to be over as quickly as possible. She administered thirty more resounding smacks, from his left side, then walked behind him to his right side "to change the angle of attack". Still using her left hand, she delivered another fifty blows from that side. He was emitting a low-pitched sigh with each strike, now, so she paused after completing the first hundred smacks to evaluate his condition. "It looks like they're starting to swell up a bit," she mused, fondling his tightly stretched sack. "They're definitely turning a darker color, but I'm pretty sure that's just from the lack of circulation caused by the tightness of this cord." From his pained reaction to the light touch of her fingers, it was obvious his balls had become extremely sensitive. "Are you doing OK? I don't want to do you any permanent damage." She seemed genuinely concerned. "I don't know," he responded. Every time you hit them, it feels like a hot knife has been stuck right through them. Even the light touch of your fingers feels like fire to me. The funny thing is, I haven't started to get even a hint of that dull, aching sensation that I associate with getting hit in the balls. I figured that would be the hardest thing to deal with. Actually, I thought I might have to worry about becoming nauseous...but that hasn't happened." "That's because I've tied them so tightly in their sack. If I'd let them hang loose and started beating on them, It wouldn't have stung so much, but you would have probably gotten sick a long time ago. Sting is much better than thud, any time. Still...I AM starting to get worried. I always want to make you THINK about using the safeword, but I also want you to be able to complete your punishment. How's about we negotiate a compromise? I'll give you twenty more smacks...real hard ones...then I'll untie your balls and see about getting you that orgasm I promised. What do you think? "What about my side of the compromise?," he asked. He knew, from painful experience, that she gave no relief for free. "Wellll," she grinned. "You'll have to let me put something on you that will make it more difficult for you to cum, and very painful for you, if you are able to get off." "What kind of 'something" are you talking about? Not those damn clothespins, again?" He was referring to a session of three months ago when she had proposed a similar compromise. He had agreed, mostly because anything seemed an improvement over the creative pain she was causing him. To his horror, before she made him cum, she placed eight plastic clothespins on the sensitive ridge around the head of his cock. They had serrated grips, so they would not be accidentally dislodged. He hadn't appreciated the nastiness of her intentions until her skillful hands brought him to the edge of cumming. The clothespins had been painful enough, jangling around while she stroked on his cock but, when he felt the first surge of ejaculation he felt unimaginable pain from the pins. His cock, naturally enough, tried to expand to its fullest size with each orgasmic surge. The clothespins, tightly gripping their little bits of ultra-sensitive skin, would not open wider, causing intense, searing pain, from their bites. Each time he surged, which was many, as she skillfully milked him completely dry of cum, He felt an absolutely uncomparable mixture of overwhelming pleasure, mixed with excruciating pain. His screams had been so loud that they truly worried about one of the distant neighbors calling the police. He surely did not want to experience that, again, and said so. "I promise. No clothespins will be involved. It's something else I've been wanting to try. You know I won't give you all the details until you've agreed. There HAS to be some element of surprise, after all. Now, decide! It's either twenty more smacks to these tender little babies," she fondled his balls lightly, eliciting a wince of pain from him, "followed by a handjob, or, it's 100 more smacks, and who knows how you'll be feeling at that point?. Make up your mind. I don't want to take all day with this." "You leave me no choice. I'm afraid 100 more smacks from that nasty little stick might just do me some permanent damage. I'll take my chances with the twenty smacks and the masturbation." "Yeah, that's a tough choice, but I think you made the right one. OK. I'm going to give you twenty more, ten from each side. Here we go!" Each of the twenty were harder than any that had gone before. She was making sure she got her money's worth out of these last few blows. She allowed about fifteen seconds between each impact, giving him time to appreciate the pain of each, as it was delivered, then time to anticipate the pain of the next. When they were finally over, she quickly tipped the pail of water, spilling it onto the patio deck and relieving the strain on his punished testicles. After untying the rawhide from the pail's handle, she gently worked the loop around his sack looser...not without difficulty because the swelling of his balls had made the cord dig in severely...then pulled it off and discarded it. She massaged his balls lightly, allowing them to find their normal location in their sack, before releasing them and starting on his cock and nipples. She got his cock free first. She untied its supporting cord from the nipple clamp chain, then loosened the loop behind its darker and shinier crown and freed it from its restraints, allowing it to drop to its normal position between his widespread legs. The nipple clamps were last, and had been on for so long, and under so much tension, that he gasped with shock when they were removed and blood began to recirculate where they had been. His arms were very tired from being stretched high above him for so long, but he knew, from experience, that she would keep him tied like this until she got him off. "I have to get a couple of things from inside," she said, "and I need this pail." She went inside, leaving him to puzzle over her intentions for him. He had no idea how she would contrive to make his orgasm both difficult and painful, but was certain her imagination was up to the task. He was alone for only a few minutes when she returned with the pail full of ice and water, a tube of KY jelly, and something else in her hand that he couldn't see. She set the pail in front of him, laid the KY beside it, then showed him what else was in her hand. He recognized them right away, and thought they looked very innocuous. There were four of them. They were little white plastic rings...the type that remain on the neck of a two-liter soda bottle when you unscrew the cap. She had managed to work them off of some of the bottles in the recycling container, he guessed, but still didn't quite see what she planned. A closer look revealed that they were lined with little plastic spikes, flexible, but quite sharp, and he began to develop some serious concern for his immediate welfare. Acknowledging his worst fears, she began to explain. " "These are from old soda bottles, but you've probably already figured that out. The little teeth inside them aren't sharp enough to break the skin, but they are plenty sharp enough to hurt sensitive skin, and the head of your cock is covered with VERY sensitive skin. I won't be able to get them on properly, unless your cock is a lot less erect than it is right now. That's what the ice water is for. Let's see if we can make that 'swelling' go down." She was enjoying her little joke tremendously as she picked up the pail, moved between his wide-spread legs, and completely submerged his genitals in the icy cold water. He cried out from the shock of the cold, but was helpless to move his cock and balls away from the freezing temperature they were now feeling. She held it there for much longer than he would have thought necessary but, when she did finally remove it, his erection was just about gone. "That should do it," she said. "Now let's get these on you while things are a little smaller and easier to deal with." She took each of the rings, one at a time, and positioned them on the crown of his cock, which was quite painful, in itself. She placed them over the tip, worked them down underneath until they rested on his frenum, then slid the other side down the top of his crown until they could not go further. When she had finished she had all four lined up, one after the other, forming a very painful, cigarband-like ring, about a half-inch wide, right around one of the most sensitive places on a man's body. The sharp litle plastic spikes dug in nastily, causing him significant discomfort. "Just wait until your cock gets hard, again," she grinned. Those little things are going to hurt like crazy." They already did hurt like crazy, he thought, and would become excruciating if his cock got hard. He couldn't even imagine cumming with them on him. The pain might make him crazy, yet, obviously, the little spikes wouldn't even break the skin. She might have come up with something that would, indeed, make it very hard for him to have an orgasm. At the moment, at least, he hadn't the slightest interest in cumming. She, of course, was determined to bring him off spectacularly. She was quite proud of this little idea and was anxious to see if it had the effect she thought it would. Squeezing a large amount of KY into her palm, she stood right in front of him and began to rub her palms together, gleefully. "Are you ready to ride?" she quizzed him. "This is gonna be a LOTTA fun!" She began a slow, skillful stroking of his cock with her left hand, gently milking his sensitive balls with her right. To his horror, he felt his cock begin to harden, almost immediately. The sharp pain he felt on his cockhead told him how really bad this was going to be. She was an expert masturbatrix and, if she wanted to make him cum, nothing would stand in her way. She worked him a little harder, sliding her hand up and down his shaft with the glistening lubricant. Watching his eyes, she could see that he was already beginning to climb that slippery slope she would force him to slide down, when she was ready. After a few minutes, she released him and watched his, now fully erect, cock bob around in space like it had a mind of its own, with its crown being compressed and tormented by the sharp little spikes. She resumed her stroking, taking him closer and closer to the edge. He knew he was helpless to resist what was happening to him. He was about to blow and knew it would probably be the most equisitely painful ejaculation he had ever experienced. The pain he was feeling from the little spikes was already much worse than the clothespins had been when he had ejaculated! When he came, his cock would have no room to expand and the spikes would dig into him savagely. He resigned himself to his fate and waited for her to decide to take him over the top. She soon did exactly that and, when he exploded, he screamed aloud. It felt like his cock was being crushed by a crown of needles! He could feel his body actually trying not to respond to the irresistable urge to ejaculate, but to no avail. She expertly milked him, slowly and surely, until he could cum no more, while he sighed and moaned in agony mixed with pleasure. When he finally stopped surging, she scooped up some of his semen on her fingers, then placed them in his mouth. "Here you go. Taste yourself. That was pretty wild, huh? Now I'm afraid I've got a bit of bad news for you. I won't be able to get those rings off you until you're soft again. If I tried to take them off now, you wouldn't like the result. How's about I untie you, retie your hands behind your back and take you inside? Do you think you could find a way to get me off, without using your hands?" She was grinning broadly. "If you do, I'll get some little scissors and cut those rings off. Otherwise, you'll just have to wear them until the 'swelling' goes down. That could take quite a while, given the level of sexual excitement these sessions always generate in you. Who knows? You might even get sexually excited again while you're trying to get me off. Her grin grew larger. "You'd beg me to cut those rings off then, huh?" She untied the ropes pulling his ankles apart, then stood on the stepstool to release his wrists, which he allowed her to retie, behind his back. Grabbing his cock she took him into the house like a naked pull toy, looking forward to her orgasm. He was happy to be done with his punishment and was looking forward to giving her pleasure. In spite of his soreness, and the continuing pain on the head of his cock, which was hardening again at the sight of her firm buttocks in the thong, he was already contemplating what he could do to her to earn his next session. ...and the beat, as always, would go on!