Every night for weeks my girlfriend would let me strip her. She would then kneel and give me an enthusiastic blow job. I loved the smooth pussy she was now showing to me nightly.

I wanted to eventually fuck her cunt. I could wait. It’s easy to wait when your balls are getting emptied every night. Especially when they’re emptied nightly by your hot naked girlfriend kneeling in front of you.

She began to be impatient. She seemed to be under increasing internal pressure to finish her list of rules. Every time she suggested a rule, I rejected it. She wanted to add lame rules. I wanted her to add rules that counted. I figured every day I waited would make her increasingly compliant to my ideas about good rules.

She was also sexually frustrated, by her own decision. She seemed to have gotten hornier the same time she started making her list. She had always been a self-denying horny girl. Now she was a boiling kettle welded shut.

Today she was on her knees, nude, and sucking my cock. Again. She was enthusiastically deep-throating my cock. Her rules required her to be enthusiastic. She was. Her eyes looked into mine as she tried to please me.

It was clear she was aroused to new heights. Every day, for weeks, I had stripped her and sexually stimulated her while she denied herself release. Her self-denial was clearly getting to her. Today her nipples were so erect and hard they could cut glass. Her cunt was wet. Her slit was literally dripping. This wasn’t my problem. The tool between my legs could solve her problem at any time. She kept insisting I not fuck her in her cunt. Her loss. I eventually came into her mouth. She swallowed every drop.

Once done, she let her mouth pop off my cock. She snapped, “You fucker! I hate this! You’re so unfair! You get release every night and I stew in need! For weeks! You’re such a misogynist pig. Fuck you. FUCK YOU!”

I disapprovingly stared down at her. I had been enduring the same need for months! She didn’t like the feeling herself? What a hypocrite. She was the one who insisted on this, not me. How dare she blame me. My anger lit my face. I let her words linger in the air.

She suddenly felt an icy grip of fear. She knew she’d displeased me. Badly. She backpedaled hard. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got over me. I didn’t mean it. I know it’s my fault. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

I stared hard into her eyes. I channeled anger and disapproval through my eyes. Her eyes looked down and her head dropped down.

I sternly said, “Do you think that’s an appropriate way to talk to your boyfriend?”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“You said it. Loudly. You meant it. Was it appropriate?”

“No. No. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Really I am sorry! Please forgive me!” Her eyes seemed aflame with fear and remorse. She literally shuddered.

“I think some more rules need to be set, don’t you?”

She gulped. “Yes, yes, of course! Yes! What should they be? Please tell me what you want! I’m really sorry! I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get the list and a pen.”

She scurried to retrieve both, came back, and knelt. Nude.

“Do you think it was appropriate to address me that way? Talking to me with disrespect?”

“Um, no. I’m really sorry. I could add a rule to address you with respect.”

“You need to always be respectful to me. Let’s be specific, too. I think you should always be respectful and address me as ‘sir.’ If you address me as ‘sir’ you’ll be more likely to address me with respect.”

She looked at me uncertainly for a moment. She didn’t want to do that. She needed to do something. I could see she was feeling disquieted and eager to please me. She was eager to make up for her outburst. She soon added to her list:

18. I will always be respectful to him and address him as “sir.”

She looked up and pleaded, “I’m really sorry. Will you forgive me? Please? I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Um, sir.”

I said, “That rule’s a start. That will prevent some future problems. That is not nearly enough, though. That outburst was a little girl’s tantrum. I know your home was permissive. If you had a tantrum like that as a little girl in a strict home, what do you think would have happened?”

Her mental gears turned. She had to tell me the truth. She quietly said, “I guess I’d get spanked. Sir.”

“A little?”

“No, a lot.”

“How? Be specific.”

“I guess I’d be pulled over a lap, have my bottom bared, and endure a thorough spanking with a hand or a paddle. Maybe with some corner time. Um, sir.”

“I think you need to add another rule that you’ll submit to corporal punishment from me when I determine you deserve it.”

She gave me an angry stare. Her eyes made it clear this didn’t sound like a good idea to her. I didn’t relent. When she saw I didn’t give in, she lowered her eyes. She was afraid of displeasing me. She felt she needed to compensate for her outburst somehow. She also had a need to add rules. She dithered for a moment. She eventually pulled out the list and wrote:

19. I’ll submit to corporal punishment from him when he determines I deserve it.

“Good. Let’s start with a spanking for your latest outburst.”

“What, now!?”

I motioned with my hand. She paused. She sighed. She gingerly bent her nude body across my lap.

I slowly spanked her bare bottom with my hand. I cupped my hand and ensured each swat was powerful. I held my hand on her butt after each, to ensure all the energy of the spank went into her butt. I alternated between each butt cheek and the sit spots on each of her upper thighs. She soon yelped on each stroke. After many strokes her butt and upper thighs were fire red. Tears dripped from her eyes. She pleaded for mercy and promised to behave from now on. “I’ll be good! I’ll be good! I’m sorry sir! I’ll behave! I’ll be respectful! I’ll be a good girl! Please! I’ll be a good girl, sir!”

Eventually I decided she’d had enough. I said, “if you don’t want more, put your nose in the corner until I say you can leave. No rubbing. Put your hands on the top of your head.”

She nodded. She got into position, hoping I wouldn’t spank her more. I admired my handiwork on her bare butt. Her nude body jiggled in the corner.

This was a glorious day. What could happen next?