KINKTOBER WEEK 3: SPANKING (Patreon)

HIII!!! OKAY as described in the last post, I switched some things around! So spanking will be this week, tentacles will be next week, and the chefrry blurbie for next week will be the last week! :D I WANTED TO TAKE LOTS OF TIME TO WRITE TENTACLES SO I CAN BRING YOU TO THE TENTACLE SIDE

I HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSSS! I'M SORRY I HAD TO DOUBLE POST IN ONE NIGHT

ALRIGHT LOVE YOUUUUU

(2.2k+ words)

i.

A maintenance spanking was something Y/N had never heard about until Harry. 

Hell, most of the BDSM world Y/N had never been privy to until she met Harry. He’d opened her up to a world so vast that she was quickly overwhelmed by everything, and they needed to take it nice and slow. Harry eased her into the realm of it, and one of the first things he did was spank her. They both really liked that, even though Y/N was supposed to hate it. She liked to pretend that she did, wriggling and whining when his palm would strike her bum, but she loved the burn of it that sizzled on her skin. Y/N liked that instantaneous spark of pain that made her gasp, and how it fizzed into something more mellow. She liked how he spoke to her during it, because even if he was punishing her, he was sweet to her. Soft and gentle in a way that Y/N wasn’t used to from the men she’d dated in the past. 

So when Harry introduced maintenance spankings, she wasn’t opposed in the slightest. Actually, she had almost immediately agreed – so quickly that he’d laughed and said, “God, at least ask me some questions about it, baby!” 

The premise of it was simple – weekly, Harry would spank her as a reminder to be good for him. Y/N was bratty and whiny; she fussed and moaned at him for things, she got off when he told her not to, and she liked to touch herself when he told her to stop. It was something that would have sent him over the edge if he didn’t like taming brats so much, he told her, and turning them into nice, sweet, compliant little things for him. That would beg for him to touch her because she knew he could do it so much better. Plus, since Y/N liked spanking so much, it was actually sort of a treat in itself too. It’s one of the quickest ways to send her into subspace as well, floating in that nice little spot where she could let her brain just be, and Harry would take care of her. 

They picked Wednesday since it was right in the middle of the week. Harry would pull Y/N over his lap and spank her 15 times, each one varying in degrees of severity, but never anything that would leave her bum bruised and marked up (there was a time and place for spankings like those, and maintenance spanks were not it). Her bum would feel nice and sore when he’d knead over the flesh, and he’d coo at her when she winced sitting on it (“I guess you’ll just have to sleep on top of me tonight, baby,” he’d tell her, “Don’t want to irritate the skin, right?”).  

Maintenance spankings could turn into real spankings if she wanted them to,  but she likes the calm atmosphere they create with each other when it’s more a reminder to be good. When he gives her the spanking, and that’s that. 

But if she was a brat – if she came without permission, or teased him during important work dinners (both of which she’d done tonight), then a maintenance spanking could become a real one very quickly. And as much as she likes to be good for him, Y/N likes making him work for it too. Likes being made to be good, and the triumph in Harry’s face when she settles and starts listening again. If she felt particularly jittery and stressed from the week, she would do it to let out steam. And if she could tell Harry needed something to keep his mind off work, she might do it then too. 

So tonight, when they’re at some fancy pants dinner with his fancy pants coworkers, Y/N sends him a video of her cumming in the bathroom with just her fingers after disappearing for 10 minutes from his side. On top of that, she slid the panties she came into his pocket when she came back, making it look like she’d just been fishing out his phone to check the time. At first, he acts so indifferent to both of these things that she thinks he hasn’t noticed either of them yet. Until they were leaving, in the parking lot alone for the first time in two hours, he grabbed her by the bicep and pulled her in close. 

“You’re in trouble, Sweetheart,” he murmured softly, in her ear, “If you want to be punished, why don’t you just ask me instead of being a little brat, hm?” 

Y/N pouted her mouth, “Sorry,” she whined, “I can’t help it, sometimes.” 

“I know you can’t,” he loosened his grip on her arm, letting it slide down her back, resting just above her tailbone and guiding her that way, “But I don’t think you’re sorry, not even one little bit. You will be, though.” 

It sent such a thrill down her spine that she was ready to explode into millions of little pieces. Driving home felt like being stuck in the car for three hours, though it was a little under a thirty-minute drive. When they got to their flat, Harry walked calmly and casually to the door while Y/N practically ran to it. She could already feel the phantom sting of his hand against her bum, and the thought of it excited her so much she almost couldn’t bear it. 

Y/N stripped down before he even asked her to, but when she went for her panties, Harry clicked his tongue to stop her. She pouted but didn’t fight him on it – sometimes he liked to start with them, depending on the night. Harry snorted at her jutted bottom lip, pulling her across his thighs and smoothing his hand over her bum. It felt cool against her skin, having just washed his hands when they’d come inside.

“You know, these sort of lose the purpose of punishment when you like them so much.” He notes, but lifts his hand away and comes back with it quickly over her left cheek, and she jumps, gasping, “I think you’d let me hit your bum for hours and hours, really. Your maintenance spanking was tonight anyway, Darling. Why did you want to be a bad girl?” He isn’t really asking for a response. If Harry wants an answer, he’ll tell her; that’s how he’s always been. Right now, though, he’s letting her sink into it. . .feel it. The second spank comes after about thirty seconds of quiet, and the echo of it against her skin makes her shudder – that and the cool air coming from the fan above them, whipping over their bodies. “Do we need to go twice a week? Maybe I need to pull you over my lap on Wednesdays and Saturdays, hm? Would that sort you out or just turn you into a greedy little monster?” 

A moan pulls from her throat. When he isn’t spanking her, his hands are caressing her body. Squeezing and kneading her thighs, her hips, tracing the knobs of her spine, grazing his nails over her ticklish spots. He likes making her feel aware of every aspect of her body, distracting her with the careful, soft touches, before the fiery burn of his palm colliding with her skin. After the third spank, he takes the fabric of her underwear and starts to shift it around, pulling it between her cheeks as if it were a thong. It makes it taut around her pussy, and if either of them had the view, they’d probably see her swollen lips and clit pressing up against damp fabric. This time, when his palm connects to her bare ass, Y/N really groans, deep and a little guttural. He’s right; this really isn’t punishment. Y/N likes being spanked way too much. . .

. . .by his hand. 

Y/N hates the paddle, though. And when she feels that soft, leather-covered flat board start to stroke against her thigh, she whines, starting to wriggle in his lap, “Noooooooo,” she fusses, but Harry knows that she’s just complaining to complain – if she really wanted to stop, then she knew what to say, “Harry, I hate that one! When did you even take it out?” 

“You aren’t supposed to like it, baby,” he tells her, and brings it down to the space where her thighs meet her cheeks. A gasp leaves her throat, and tears immediately spring to her eyes. The paddle sucks – it hurts a little worse, and she much prefers Harry’s hands all over her body, as opposed to that stupid thing. Harry’s hands felt intimate – they warmed with time, and his palms were soft. This thing was cold and clinical. Getting spanked with it really did feel like a punishment. If he hadn’t made her lie on her hands, then she would probably be swatting away at it, which would definitely make the punishment worse but would buy her some time in between the swats. 

Still, despite all her whining, she’s already so wet that her panties are starting to feel uncomfortable. He gives her two quick ones, and the board is long enough that it strikes both cheeks at the same time. There’s no barrier between it and her skin; the underwear is useless when it’s pulled up like this. He uses his free hand to momentarily card his fingers through her hair, going close to the root and tugging softly. He doesn’t yank her head up – he never does things like that – harsh, jerking movements that might hurt her for real. No, this was like a little check-in.  Harry would tug gently at her hair to see if she was still with him and if she was still okay, and Y/N would nod for him and squeeze him wherever her hand was lying. Just a little nonverbal way to disclose that she was still having a good time. 

After she does that, Harry goes to town. Three times, consecutively, he positions it so that it hits her bum, part of her pussy, and her thighs all at once. She is making sounds, between whines and moans, and the tears keep springing up in her eyes. This stupid paddle, this sucks! And what sucks even more is when she hears the distinct click and buzz of a vibrator, another artificial thing rather than Harry, and their contact being skin-to-skin. Y/N wonders when the hell he grabbed that too, but all thoughts leave her brain when he slips the small bullet between her underwear and her pussy. It’s pressed directly on her clit, which sucks the air out of her lungs almost instantly, before he swats her again. 

She’s so wet that the sound of the vibrating is clicking from her juices. It’s embarrassing, but the stimulation is so intense she can’t even think to whine about it yet. Her face buries into the blankets below her, gasping, her fingers curling under her, into his thigh. When he hits her again, Y/N can tell she’s about to cum – it’s coming up to her quickly, intensely, stirring in her belly in a way she knew would be explosive through her body. Her legs started to shake from the strength of the building. 

“I’m g’na cum,” she warned him, because she’d already cum once without asking tonight; she wasn’t trying to really piss him off, especially if she was already getting the paddle. Y/N didn’t want him to switch to the leather straps, which was somehow even worse. Maybe, at least with good behavior, she’d be able to get his hand again. “A-ah, ah! Harry, I’m g’na cum.” 

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, “Since you do what you want anyway, don’t you, Honey?” 

It rattles through her like zaps of lightning. Spanking always works her up so much, and the power from those little bullets directly on her clit is often too much. Especially when he puts it on one of the high settings. Her hips are rolling toward the stimulation, then away, and when he’s still spanking her through it, it feels like her body has been lit aflame in the best way. She knew her whole body would be sore from the way she’s shaking later, thighs trying to close, but he keeps them spread apart, open. 

By the time the orgasm wanes, Harry does click the bullet to a lower setting, but he doesn’t turn it off. And soon, the stimulation went from delightful and orgasm inducing, to something way too intense. Her heart was racing, thundering against her chest, and her blood was roaring in her ears. She’s sensitive, twitching away, but Harry rests his forearm on her lower back to keep her from moving around. 

“Too much,” Y/N whines, her legs kicking a little, “Ngh, that’s – that’s too much.” 

“Awww, is it?” Oh god, it’s going to be like that tonight? Excitement bubbles in her belly even though she knew she was in for it. This wasn’t going to be a simple spanking; she was finding out. “That’s too bad, Sweetheart.” She whines again, louder this time, “What’s your color, hm?” 

Y/N’s cheeks are sticky, wet, and salty with tears, but she rubs her face against the blankets below her to dry them off. She had a feeling that there were more to come in the best way – she likes how Harry kisses them off her face afterward. 

“Green,” she nods, swallowing and pressing into the hand that finds her nape, “So, so green.” 

Harry chuckles softly and clicks the bullet to a higher setting. 

“How many times do you think you can cum for me, bunny?”