The new site www.katiemariesplace.com is now up! The FREE area is being added to each day. Be sure you sign up for the e-mail update list on the site. Katie Marie will alos be the host of bettiepagespanked.com
posted by Sassy Jane at 12:02 PM
17 Comments:
Years ago there was a comic book character called the Checkered Pants Demon. Katie Marie is my C.P.D., even though she's only wearing a scrap of panties. Is it an optical illusion, or is she the hottest little thing that ever posed? God, she gets me aroused! Good golly, I want to see her spanked and spanked hard. God, I want to do the honors, all night long. Oh God, I've got to go back to bed to jill off.
Jean Marie
She knew that she was going to get a good licking; I telegraphed that by silently stripping my thick leather belt from out of the pant loops around my waist. She wriggled her adorable bottom into the velvet-like cushion of the arm-chair in anticipation of it, never letting her bedroom-smokey-languid-dreamy eyes break contact with mine. She didn't expect the other licking... I set the belt on the floor as I knelt before the chair. She let me part her knees wide from the "little girl posture" that she'd assumed. I pulled the gusset of the scrap of panties between her humid thighs away to the side and applied my tongue to her slit. Only then did she close her eyelids, breaking our gaze, ending the nonverbal colloquy. As I parted her vaginal lips with my kissing, nibbling, hungry ones, her bee-stung mouth opened into an O. Within moments she was moaning, whimpering, writhing, aching to orgasm. That would have to wait.
"Get on your knees on that chair and stick your deserving butt out for the belt, you beautiful bitch," I whispered, and Katie Marie scrambled to comply.
I administered twenty sound licks with the leather, nice and slow and with all my might, until her dark eyes were as wet with tears as her pubic mound had been with arousal, until her fanny was as hot as our passion, until her flesh was as scarlet as her absolved sin.
She looked back over her shoulder, the expression in her eyes asking what was next... the intimacy of the hand, the cruelty of the cane, the sharpness of the hairbrush... She seemed ready, even eager for any or all of them. Instead I reached for the strap-on dildo and began to put it on, adjusting the harness until the base of the phallus rubbed my erect clit sublimely. Again she closed her eyes, signalling her complete compliance. She arched her lower back, proffering her buttocks even higher. I ran my hands down the supple length of her. She was so feline, her libido purred. I held her bottom cheeks in each hand, parted her wider. Both delicately petaled rosebuds gaped at my gesture. Where to fuck her first...?
I reached up and rolled the checkered top that she wore up, until both pendulous breasts were set free, taking a pinch of nipple with each hand. Her nipples mirrored her eyes; big, hypnotic, oh so erotic. They hardened in my grasp, and Katie Marie sighed softly. It helped make up my mind. I guided the dildo to the entrance of the lower orifice, played at her vaginal lips with the thick appendage just as my tongue had, until we both could stand it no longer. Thrusting into her to the hilt like a hot knife cuts through butter, we found our rhythmn, then came in a frenzy of tightening muscles and sharp gasps and screams of ecstasy and flooding wetness. I'd fuck her here until she came again, I told myself, pleasure her until her jism had coated the cock sufficiently so that it would impale her anus with the same ease... And then I'd strap her all over again for being so naughty.
Jean Marie
I was bad for writing so brazenly, so sinfully, so sexually about a fantasy with Katie Marie. My boyfriend came into our computer room quickly and caught me at it before I could wrap it up; both get the posting off to this blog, and get my sticky fingers out of my panties and my skirt back down. Bad girls get punished, and I just have been.
He seized me by the elbow and told me to get upstairs to our bedroom with the command, "March, young lady!" It was punctuated by spanks all the way up the flight of stairs. Once there, I was ordered to strip nude. While I was doing so, he lectured. "You've been writing about masturbation, oral sex, strappings and spankings. That's being unfaithful to me. Now you're going to pay..." He made me stand at the foot of our four-poster bed, bend over at the waist, presenting my defenseless bottom, while holding onto one of the bed posts for support. Out came Kyle's belt. I was told to count the lashes. I got over a hundred, I lost exact count in the pain. He let that go, but was a stickler for posture and presentation; my bottom had to be right out there, or I'd get extras with the belt. All the while, Kyle admonished, "Grip the post," or "Squeeze the pillar," or similar commands. When my butt was on fire, I was out of tears, and we both were randy as wild animals, Kyle dropped the belt and entered me. I knew that he was going to pattern this fuck after my fantasy; as soon as I came, I was going to get his cock in another orifice. I tried to forestall the inevitable by repeating the words, "Squeeze his pillar" over and over like a mantra. It didn't work; I came and came and came, having been given the best foreplay I know of; a good leathering across my bare butt. Just as I'd guessed (secretly hoped?) his member withdrew from my sex. Without aid of any lubricant save my own jism, he slowly, steadily, oh so sublimely put it up my bottom. "Grip the post," he commanded and gave my fanny another set of hand spanks to accompany his thrusts.
I was bad. I got it good. I won't want to sit for a day ot two. (But I'll still dream about Katie Marie's butt...)
Jean Marie
In our household, we have a ritual (lots of them, actually, my parents set this tone with the formalized rituals of, "This hurts me more than it does you..." or "Just wait 'til your father gets home, then you'll get it again, harder than I can do it..." Spanking IS ritual.) The one I refer to now, though, is this; if I get a punishment spanking during the day, at bedtime I can expect a hand spanking during which we'll talk, rehash events, make sure the psychic slate is wiped clean. Having gotten the belt and the butt-fuck this afternoon (due to which my bottom is sensative and a bit stiff and my bottom hole is hot and hemmroidal and feels two sizes too big), I'm going to get some more patty cake on my hind-end before lights out in about an hour. So, I've changed into my favorite baby-doll nightie; a pink, near transparent camisoille that I'll have to lift up, and matching panties that I'll be asked to pull down before tonight's session. Anticipation is a big part of that ritual. I'm writing this posting standing up, kind of like extended corner-time. We've had some marvelous romps during these end-of-day, let's get it over with and move-on spank-fests. They're never too hard, never with anything but the hand, but that doesn't mean I'm not in tears by the end. Maybe it all comes down to the fact that, having gotten it earlier, all my resistance is gone, I'm contrite and submissive and ready to prove what a good girl I can be by baring the target, crawling over the knee, and asking for a last minute tune-up. Maybe it's that I know the sex afterward will be special. Other times it's sweaty and lusty and full of loud grunts and squeals. Post-patty-cake, it's always slow and soulful and full of sighs and whispers. Thinking about it, anticipating the ritual of it all is getting me hot. If I were to touch myself, and Kyle were to catch me at it, the night wouldn't end on this blissful note. I'd probably be stood in the center of the room gripping my ankles, and have a set of cane stripes administered to my already-worn-out backside. So I'm going to sign off and play it safe.
Just one more thing; is anybody else out there? It'd be so much fun to talk on this blog... Hello?
Jean Marie
Seems like you're doing enough for everyone.
And Hallo 2 u
Patricia P
Patrician Patricia P.,
When I read your comment, I thought of Curly in the Three Stooges, who'd respond in a high pitched snarl, "Oh, a wise guy, eh? Sounds like somebody thinks she's a smart ass..." Then they'd poke you in the eyes and boink you over the head. I'd prefer to make your ass smart by wanking you over my knee, relieving you of the britches that you're too big for, and spanking the snot out of you. After such a snotty comment, it should take a good, long time. What'd ya say to that, Patty-cakes?
Jean Marie
Jean Marie,
I was enjoying your correspondance with Patricia but just as it got nice and vitriolic it stopped! Pity.
Do, please, keep up your saucy comments.
Robert
It's not a correspondence, dear Robert, because Patty won't play. I was preparing to pull her knickers down with my right hand while pulling her across my lap with my left, when she abruptly took her toys and left the playground. I'm as disappointed as anyone, believe me.
Jean Marie
It just occurred to me who Katie Marie reminds me of. There's a young actress, Anne Hathaway, who stars as a princess often in flicks. She just did "Ella Enchanted" which is on HBO or Cinemax or some such channel at present. Katie resembles her alot, but Katie Marie's looks are edgier; I could contemplate giving Katie an enema and a reeming (and often have) before her spanking, whereas Anne's porcelain prettiness lacks that earthy appeal, I'd only paddle her. Besides, Katie's titties are bigger, and so beautifully nippled!
Jean Marie
Jean Marie I have an awful feeling that you are one these who likes to talk about it but never does it.
Sorry for being so long getting back to you but some of us are busy doing it.
And my "Britches" as you call them are green today a nice bright green that snot would look awful on,and over your lap is one place I'm never going to 2 b so dream on and get aroused [if you can or is that all blow as well]
Patcia P
Jean Marie I have an awful feeling that you are one these who likes to talk about it but never does it.
Sorry for being so long getting back to you but some of us are busy doing it.
And my "Britches" as you call them are green today a nice bright green that snot would look awful on,and over your lap is one place I'm never going to 2 b so dream on and get aroused [if you can or is that all blow as well]
Patcia P
Where did the "sweet" come from
Anyway thats not nice what you just said a lady's got feelings u know.
I didn't realise that I was conversing with the new Bill Shakespeare god but aren't u so full of it with your leagens of fans, go and write a sonnet
Patrica P
And what's wrong with Green panties anyway I have loads of green panties all not trying to make a statement
Look back at these postings and see that you were the one who started this with your mean-spirited comment first and thereafter. I just wanted someone to chat with...
Jean Marie
Furthermore, you ignorant slut, where do you get off referring to yourself as a "lady with feelings"? Now, sonnets aren't my style (Shall I compare thee to a stinking hot day? Thou art more rank and vile...), I'm more of a limerick lass
There once was a girl, Patty P
who says she'll never bend over my knee
In that she wears panties green
and has a personality so mean
we all find the idea quite obscene.
(She needn't have opened her mouth, which resembles a latrine,
but she's got the biggest unjustified ego I've ever seen!)
Your pen pal,
Jean Marie
"You started this," the mistress growled as she seized the deserving brat by the wrist, quickly pulled her over the waiting lap, and began the much-needed spanking, "and I'm gonna finish it good and proper..."
Consider yourself verbally spanked, Patricia.
There once was a bitch name of Pat
whose manners resembled those of an alley cat
After spanking her panties the color of lime
I was moved to remark, "It's Christmas-time!"
'Cause her butt was so red beneath the green, and so fat.
There once was a snot called Patty P
Who thought she had the art of the put-down down to a T
She deserved a good blisterin'
One that would have her more than just whisperin'
So she yelled, "God, is that stars before my eyes that I see?"
I LOVE humiliating you in this way, Petulant Patty, almost as much as I'd savor holding your squirming ass over my lap, baring it, and paddling you to contrition, spanking you past tears and cries and hiccups, all the way to remorse. But your replies on this blog are so lame, I almost feel like a grown-up punishing a willful child. "You asked for this, you little trollop, now take what's coming to you..."
Warmly,
Jean Marie
What do u "mean take what's coming to u warmly"
And how do u know know that I'd crumble if you were ever to get the chance. I've taken big beatings in my time but still managed to look my mother eye to eye, ok these may have been more than 20 years ago.
I'm sorry that my mastering of the english language is not up to your self apointed high standars but so be it.
But you are not humiliating me talking about and if that's the best you can do for verbally spanking me I'm going back to my vibrater not as much fun but has the end result.
Patrica P
[Having said all that the idea of "Being a willfull child getting punished by a grown up" does sound nice
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