Musings on a Venetian afternoon

This story has appeared before on “The Library of Spanking Fiction“. 

Musings on a Venetian afternoon

From outside, the sounds of the canals and streets of Venice penetrated only in a muffled and distant way. Through the Venetian blinds, sunlight filtered into the room, creating shafts of light in which small specks of dust danced. The sunlight hitting the pastel walls gave the room an almost gold aura. Looking out the window we had a great view of the Ponte di Rialto, though at the moment neither of us were looking out. I was sitting in one of the lounge chairs near the low table, smoking a cigarette. You were lying on the king-size canopy bed, on your left side so your back was facing me. The single sheet was flipped back a little so that your back and part of one of your bottom cheeks was exposed. If I leaned sideways, I could just make out the beginning of your bottom crack, just below the pair of dimples at the bottom of your back. I could also make out some of the redness which remained on your bottom. Your face was turned away from me, so all I saw of your head was a mass of black curls. Your breathing was deep and regular, telling me you were asleep. That was no surprise, after the day we had so far. Looking at the clock, I decided that I would let you sleep for a little longer so you would be refreshed for dinner.

I watched as the smoke of my cigarette slowly curled upwards toward the ceiling. It was warm in the room, and I was still warm from the fun we had before. In fact, it had been a very fun filled day I thought, as I recalled the events that had happened earlier.

Your calm and deep sleep of the moment, was in stark contrast with your attitude of this morning. I remembered you had been giddy as a school girl at the prospect of exploring Venice. You listed all the sights you wanted to see that day at least four times. I had other ideas for the day however and I made them known to you before we went down for breakfast. Just before we would head downstairs, I whispered in your ear that I wanted you to remove your knickers. Your face became flushed, matching the red of your summer dress, but you obeyed. I knew you loved that feeling of secret embarrassment. Walking around all day without anything under your dress, apart from your bra. The warm Italian air would play under your clothes and you’d feel exposed all day. Of course only you and me would know that you were not wearing any knickers but that knowledge would be at the back of your mind all day. And I was going to make sure you would not forget it.

As we entered the elevator to go downstairs to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, a large group of tourists joined us. We were at the back of the elevator with our backs almost against the wall. I took this opportunity to secretly lift your dress at the back, centimetre by centimetre, until my hand was touching your bare bottom cheeks. I felt your bottom muscles tighten as I rested my hand on them. You stared at some point in an imaginary and unseen distance as you struggled to act like nothing was going on. Nobody else noticed, but I could see how your breathing became slightly faster and more shallow. You fought not to push your bottom back into my hand. When the elevator reached the ground floor, I withdrew my hand, letting your dress fall back into place, covering your bottom. You acted like nothing had happened, but I could read your body language like I always can. I could see how you were affected by that little act. I knew how in your head you really felt now how you were mine.

We had a relaxed breakfast. There was no hurry since we would be in Venice for five more days. There was plenty of time to see the sights and to enjoy ourselves. We enjoyed the fresh bread and the excellent coffee like any other couple in the restaurant. Still, under the surface and unknown to the other guests, there was an unmistakable tension in the air between us. It intensified as we made our way back to our room to get our things for the excursion we were planning. In the empty upstairs corridor, I placed my hand on your bottom, guiding you to our room. Other than a few light pats, I didn’t move it from there until it was time to open our room door. This ensured again you were very aware of the fact that there were no knickers there.

We had a great morning, acting like normal tourists. We made our way through the busy streets toward the Palazzo Ducale and the Basillica di San Marco. We had lunch with a view of the Colonna di San Marco. But amidst of all this cultural beauty and the hordes of tourists, there seemed to be a kind of bubble surrounding us, setting us apart from the rest. There was a connection between us that was as intangible as it was real. Of course it wasn’t just the fact that we both knew you were not wearing knickers. That was a merely a sign of this bond we had. We felt connected and uniquely focused on each other. Still, I did not let you forget your situation and I could tell from the blush on your cheeks that you were both embarrassed and excited. Our day was a delightful mix of sightseeing and slightly kinky games. It was fortunate that the day was not very windy, because if your dress had blown up in the breeze, it could have been embarrassing.

It was only three in the afternoon when you suggested going back to the hotel. I knew exactly why you wanted to go back and I wanted to go back as well. It was about time for the climax of our game. Silent, but holding hands and feeling very much connected to each other, we took less crowded streets toward the Ponte di Rialto. I stopped us on the way because I found a small shop that sold the nicest looking silks. I bought several silk scarves for you, because I knew you loved them. Little did the shopkeeper suspect that they would hardly be worn around your shapely neck. I had other ideas for the scarves.

Back at the hotel, riding the elevator up to our floor, I pulled you close to me. You yielded immediately to my kiss. My hand slipped between your thighs, slowly moving upwards until I found the warm wetness between them. As I touched you there, your response became more pronounced, kissing me eagerly.

  “So, walking around Venice without your knickers has made you wet, has it?” I asked.

You rubbed your cheek against mine, kissed me on the ear and then whispered into it that it had. I shivered under your kiss.

  “Well, we can’t have that. I’ll have to punish you…” I said.

  “Yes, please…” you said softly into my ear.

Your left leg came up, rubbing against my leg, giving me more room to move my hand. I didn’t though. Instead I withdrew my hand in order to leave you wanting more.

When the elevator halted at our floor, we straightened ourselves out before the doors opened. We stepped out into the corridor which was completely devoid of people. We knew that most people in the hotel were members of the same tour, and that they would be out for most of the day because they had an excursion with dinner included. We had the hotel almost to ourselves, which suited us just fine.

Upon entering the room, I put the “Do not disturb” sign on the door knob. Next, I locked the door and turned to face you. You were looking at me expectantly, your large brown eyes full of unspoken desire.

  “Turn around,” I said.

You turned your back to me. I stood very close to you, my nose buried in your curls, my fingers tracing up your left arm slowly. I felt goosebumps form almost immediately. Your hair smelled sweet, vaguely flowery. My hands now moved to your back, touching your shoulder blades, tracing the curve of your spine, all the way down to your bottom. I felt you shiver and I had to admit to myself that it was quite exciting for me too, to be separated from your naked flesh only by a thin summer dress. Your eyes were closed, your mouth slightly open, receptive. Your head was tilted slightly back. I kissed you on the neck, sending more tingles down your spine. With my free hand, I produced one of the silk scarves. I fashioned it into a long strip of silk by twisting it until I had something which resembled a blindfold. I placed it over your eyes and then tied it at the back of your head. The white silk contrasted nicely with your dark hair. You carefully touched the blindfold with your fingertips. I knew how the blindfold would affect you. It would make you feel vulnerable, submissive and that’s where I wanted you.

My hands once again moved to your back, found the zipper in the back of your dress. I slowly zipped it open, slid it off of your shoulders and let it slide down. It hung for a moment on the curve of your hips, but you wiggled and it slid further down your legs and onto the floor. Naked apart from your bra you stood in the middle of the room. You breathing was fast and I could see your face and chest become flushed. You were obviously enjoying yourself.

I quickly placed a few slaps on your bare bottom. The first one caused you to gasp in surprise. The others you took very well, hardly reacting at all. The slaps caused no more than a little pinkness on your bottom. That was fine though, because I was not out to cause you much pain. I wanted you to feel used like a toy, I wanted you to suffer for me in other ways. The slaps had made you feel a bit jumpy, unsure of what was coming next. I guess you sensed my mood.

I quickly relieved you of your bra, so that you were completely naked. Another scarf was used to tie your hands in front of your body. Your upper arms pushed your breasts together a bit, making them jut out. I took both breasts in my hands, using my thumb to gently flick your nipples. This both tickled you and sent signals of pleasure to the area between your legs. Your lips formed a slight smile and I kissed that. I let my fingers wander and explore every inch of your skin, tickling, squeezing, caressing and delivering the occasional slap, especially to your bottom and the back of your thighs. They coloured a bit more now, enough to make them feel slightly warm to the touch. The sweet torment alternated with slight pain was driving you crazy. It became difficult to stand still. It was time for stage two.

I took you by the scarf around your bound wrists and led you towards the canopy bed. You followed blindly, slowly placing one foot in front of the other. I helped you up on the bed and positioned you on your knees at the bottom end of the bed, facing the room. Using two more silk scarves tied together, I tied your bound wrists to the overhead canopy. I now had you kneeling on the edge of the bed, blindfolded and tied with your arms up. Standing in front of you, I caressed the soft underside of your arms, down to the sides of your body, your hips, thighs and then up again on the inside of your thighs but avoiding that space between your thighs that was craving for attention. I tickled the neatly trimmed patch of hair, moved up to your stomach, brushed your breasts casually, went further up to your neck, then took your face in my hands and kissed you long and tenderly. With all the tender touching, your skin became hypersensitive, responding to even the slightest of touches.

I continued teasing you in this way, caressing you here, kissing you there, brushing you with the last remaining scarf across your breasts. You told me later that it felt like a hundred butterflies were flitting past your skin. At one point, I took one end of the silk scarf in one hand, passed the scarf between your thighs and took the other end in my other hand behind your back. The scarf now hung between your thighs and I allowed it to gently brush the inside of your thighs, slowly going higher and higher until it ever so lightly brushed against your pubic hair, your nether lips. I moved the scarf back and forth slowly like I was gently playing a violin. It stimulated you, but just barely. And no matter how hard you tried to get more stimulation by moving your hips, I made sure that the sensation never exceeded a gentle brush. It drove you crazy. You moaned, turned your head and began pleading.

  “Please…oh please…give me something…”

  “Not yet. I want to make you wait a bit longer.”

You whimpered softly but stopped your begging, surrendering to my will and to rising frustration. It seemed you did not even notice that I stopped moving the scarf about. You kept twisting and gyrating your hips. The fact that you were blindfolded, helped you overcome your otherwise timid nature. Being unable to see your own body moving in such a wanton way, allowed you to move without inhibition.

Careful not to make a single sound, I took off my belt, doubled it up and positioned myself next to the canopy bed. I could reach you well from here and swung the belt with force, making it crack across both your bottom cheeks. The belt drew a fiery stripe on the skin of your bottom and you yelped in surprise and pain. You responded by spreading your legs a bit further, leaning forward and sticking your bottom back. Your body was begging me for the belt. I swung the belt again, making it crack down hard on both cheeks. This time there was no yelp, just a deep sigh. You arched your back, taking the pain of the belt stroke and then stuck your bottom back out again. There was no need for words. I could read your body language perfectly. You wanted the belt. You needed the belt. I gave you what you wanted, again and again, until angry red welts criss-crossed your bottom. You were in the zone now and I could have whooped you with that belt forever.

I moved around you again, back to your front. My hand slipped roughly between your thighs and I felt the fire in your loins. The belt had done nothing to lessen your state of excitement. On the contrary, it had fanned the flames to new heights. Since this was no longer a time to be gentle, I grabbed your hair with one hand, pulled your head back, whilst using the other hand to slap your breasts left to right and right to left. Not letting go of your hair, my slapping hand moved down to between your legs again, rubbing your privates. I could see your excitement rising, building up to that crescendo you so desired and which I was keeping from you. When I felt you were getting close, I stopped moving my hand, but still kept it between your legs. You were not about to give up your chance of reaching a climax however, because to my surprise, you kept rubbing yourself against my hand. Gone was the young woman who was so shy about her sexuality, who hardly dared to utter the word ‘orgasm’. Instead, she was replaced by this vixen who wanted nothing more than to climax, even if it meant rubbing herself on my hand to reach it. You were without inhibitions now.

Just before your climax began to rise, I removed my hand, causing you to gyrate your hips in mid air, against nothing.

  “Please…oh please get me off!” you moaned.

  “Do you want to have an orgasm, little one?”

  “Yes…yes, you bastard! I want it so bad…please give it to me!”

I leaned in close, brought my mouth to your ear.

  “No, not yet. I want you to suffer a bit longer. Can you wait a bit…for me?”

You moaned in desperation.

  “Yes…I’ll wait…” you finally groaned.

Quickly, I untied your hands from the top of the canopy bed. I also untied your wrists. For a moment, you were completely free, apart from your blindfold. Not for very long, though. I turned you around on the bed, so that now, your back was facing me and you were kneeling up on the bed. I pushed your head down until it was resting on the mattress, then tied your wrists to your ankles. You were still on your knees though, so that your bottom was sticking up high into the air. I stood behind you for a moment, enjoying the view and informed you of what I was doing. You were completely open to me now, fully exposed and for a moment it was almost too much for me. I considered abandoning my plan to make you wait. But no, I had come this far and I might regret stopping sooner than I had planned. Again, I picked up the belt.

Afraid to hit your most tender areas, I used the belt vertically now, striking your buttocks from top to bottom or from bottom to top. I alternated cheeks, crossing the marks from the earlier belt whipping. You whimpered, groaned, moaned and gyrated with every stinging impact of the soft leather.

Suddenly, my resolve left me and I could deny myself no longer. I threw the belt down and started to undress. You must have heard the unzipping of my jeans because I heard you say ‘Oh yes, finally’ or words to that effect. I came to stand behind you and I could feel the heat emanating from your striped cheeks. I also smelled your excitement. Intoxicated by the sights, sounds and smells you offered me, I could hold back no longer and entered you. The moment I did that, you reached the climax you desired so. You reached two more before I reached mine and I rolled us over on the bed, so we could spoon. You were still tied, but you were so exhausted that you didn’t even notice. By the time I had caught my breath again, you had drifted off to sleep. Carefully, I untied you and covered you with the bed sheet. I was dying for a cigarette.

As I sat there, replaying the events of the day in my head, I felt my excitement build again, but it was distant and less urgent now. You stirred on the bed, turned to look at me and smiled a slow, drowsy smile.

  “Is it about time for dinner? I’m famished,” you said.

I smiled back at you.

  “Yes, it is as a matter of fact,” I replied, extinguishing my cigarette in the ashtray on the table. “We should get dressed and head downstairs.”

Then a thought came to me.

  “Though for you…I think you should go without your knickers…”

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