Oh, Natalie! A young flamingo brought me to you. I adored her touching, naive, gullible trap. Many ladies love spanking, but this one was especially voluptuous. She drove me crazy with her helplessness. Her passion was discovered by chance.

The girl was capricious: she wanted to walk and did not let me work. Be a good girl, I kept saying, without looking up from the computer, go alone. I do not want to be a good girl, a little girl, I'm sick of being a good girl! And clicked on the cybord which got the letters. Do not indulge, I said patiently, with all the severity I was capable of. And what will happen? - She asked, continuing to misbehave.

I will punish, I said, although I could not even imagine that in a minute I would be able to confirm the threat. Baby was quite sure that this would not happen. You? me? She laughed carelessly. Never punish! And pressing DELETE, erased a large piece of text. Nothing terrible happened, the text remained in the buffer, but I was really indignant. Ah well! - and, turning on the spinning chair, slapped the cheeky girl on the ass, covered with a thin silk pajama. Guard! Kill! She squeaked, but instead of running away, she bulged her perkish asshole and, desperately wagging them, closed her eyes. The picture was so sweet that I laughed, pulled down the elastic of my pants and slapped some more. In response, my girl let out a moan of voluptuousness: Thus began our true love story.

Fragile and touching, almost a child, at the moment of ecstasy she turned into a wild, but frightened animal. I liked this fright, albeit feigned. I tamed her. I enjoyed my power over my beloved ...

Now I know for sure ... there is no woman who would not dream of flogging, and only false shame prevents her from crossing the barrier. But then a real man, in time to feel what his beloved wants. After all, to step over the barrier of shame is so sweet.

Most often, the moment of truth comes during the act of love. When a lady is standing on all fours in front of you, in a wicked but at the same time bashful and defenseless pose, and you drive your ramrod into it with the speed and power of a jackhammer, there is nothing more natural than slapping her on the bare buttock, and then, and more, It does not turn red, and now switch the speed to the maximum speed, push it onto your spit with all your might and with all the passion you can. Do not pay attention to her cry, her shock, a little more - and she will scream with delight, because the moment of unearthly bliss is approaching ...

Everything comes to an end. At what point did she break down? Proust writes that he accepted the reflected wave of his own passion for the love of Genevieve. So maybe this is my passion dried up, and I, without feeling the response wave, became more and more indifferent and eventually received my own hatred in response? Anyway, from the erotic game that precedes the journey to the heavenly palaces of pleasure, the spanking turned into the only content of our life, the only thing that connected us.

Now I no longer simply called, but considered her trash and experienced a constant need to humiliate her. My soul turned to the wilderness. She bothered me, the thrill of sensations was dulled. I was bored to torture her. I had a new mistress and it occurred to me that with this submissive, unresponsive creature into which my once daring and capricious baby had become, I was still able to experience the last burst of passion. I decided that now my new passion, the domineering, vulgar and stubborn girl, should whip my favorite girl. With what lust Zaher-Masoch describes such a scene, and yet he looks at her through the eyes of the victim! All I wanted was to once again awaken in the soul of my beloved those strings that I had once inadvertently touched.

She could not ... She, this typical dominant mistress, ready for any excesses, so long as it pleased her and me, seeing the hunted beast in front of her, threw off her whip and hissed vile curse through her teeth - oh no, not in my address - she was angry at her own mercy, deprived her of entertainment. I ended up driving both of them, and then I fell into a deep depression.

Now I myself, as once there, wanted to press DELETE.

The days lasted for an endless dull succession, I began to travel a lot, flying from country to country, the constant change of time zones led me to a delusional state, and supermarkets are the same all over the world. Not to say that I was not touched by beauty at all. In Greece, at Cape Sounion, where the ruins of the temple of Poseidon familiar from the history books stand from childhood, and on one of the columns I left Byron's autograph, I felt an overwhelming desire to end all problems at once, and if my baby were with me, it would undoubtedly fascinate her into the abyss. Anyway, I came to life and now I knew exactly what I needed.

Two days later in Brussels, I went to the red quarter. I decided to carry out my plan in Brussels, because there the quarter is located on the outskirts of the city, behind the station, and the prostitutes sitting in the windows in the underwear of grenadier growth and immense articles look at the lusting passers-by men with complete indifference.

I went to the sadomasochistic club. The mistress I chose was able to instill awe with its size alone. I don’t speak about the dress - it was a hybrid of SS uniform and medieval armor. Left alone with me, she looked at me with her gaze and asked ... "Well, baby, where do we start?"

I had to choose the instrument of torture myself. Having surveyed the entire arsenal, I picked up the whip. “Oh baby,” she said. How did you guess? This is my favorite..."

Until now, it seemed to me that she was completely indifferent both to me and to the upcoming execution. But at that moment it dawned on me - she said that and looked at the whip with such an enlightened look ... I looked at her mighty butt, bulging from latex panties, and thought that I had a difficult but delightful mission .. I did everything I could, but I left devastated like never before. My plan failed.

Oh, Natalie! As you are not like professional sadists, you are so fragile with a naughty mouth and a naively shameless look! You reminded me of my girl, my treasure - are you really capable of what I'm dreaming about? Oh yes, I see your little nostrils swelling angrily ... finally! Oh my vicious angel! Only now I understand the wondrous meaning of the phrase “So thrust, my angel of yesterday, in the heart of a sharp French heel!” So ​​thrust the same! ..