Story: Pull down your pants – you like that? (2024)

“Take off your clothes,” you commanded. Your voice was still icy and firm.

“No!!! Why?????” my question did not come from wondering what would be next as much as uncertainty about how you meant to proceed.

“Do what I tell you now, like a good girl who knows what she deserves,” you warned. “Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

Nervously I pushed my jeans and underwear down all the way, and used the bunched up fabric like a shoe horn to step out of my sneakers at the same time I stepped out of them. My socks didn’t come off all the way, but it was a simple matter to step on the toes, and pull my feet from them too. My sweatshirt was next, and then you helped me with the hooks on my bra. I stood there naked with my back to you. My clothes in a pile on the floor behind and beside me.

“Good girl,” you praised me. “Now you stay put and think about your crimes. Think about how your bare backside will be burning soon, because you’re a stubborn lazy girl.”

I closed my eyes. The surge of arousal and electric energy that pulsed through me was identical to the sensations I felt earlier when I thought I was in for a real punishment, only this time it was delicious. It was evidence of how elemental the whole dynamic of power, authority and sexuality was for me. One sensation could have two very different meanings, and create two very different realities within me.

I felt a very brief and transient wave of embarrassment. Maybe there was something defective about me? I dismissed it easily. It didn’t matter. If I was defective, you were my fix, my putty.

I stood there in the corner. This time listening to you breath, and shift on the couch behind me. Time slowed down a crept by us. My heart pounded, and my groin throbbed. A few times I shifted my weight side to side. The slick warm lubricant between my legs made me feel like silk there. You caught me.

“Come here to me,” your voice was stern and firm. My legs become rubber under me, and I can’t move.

“Now!” you command.

I quiver, and feel like my legs will buckle, but I don’t move.

“NOW!” the unexpected boom of your voice makes me jump, and it gives me the fuel I needed to move. I turn and face you. You are naked now too, and the strap again rests across your thighs.

“Here,” you point to the pillows on the floor in front of your feet. I move to you, and accept your hand as I kneel down on the pillow next to your right leg.

“Bend down there,” you push my torso down so that it rests on the larger pillow on front of your left foot. My bottom is presented to you in a perfect position for you to punish it. I feel exposed, and vulnerable, and excited.

You stroke me. First my right cheek, then my left and then my inner left thigh Your fingers tickle the prickly curls between my legs, but you don’t tease me there long.

The first spanks sting, and I lift my torso involuntarily so I can reach my hands back to protect myself. You will have none of that. You smack my legs hard.

“Back down! Back down now!” you warn, and as I do it, you begin to spank me with a stinging rhythm, that at first is not pleasant. There is just a little reality to this one. I did forget to pay the electric bill again. For the third month in a row, again. While the power was not turned off, the account was assessed a 15% late payment penalty. You had a thing about that, even though it was a nominal amount, it was a days worth of groceries, or a weeks worth of lunches in the cafeteria down the drain. I don’t know why I do that. When it comes down to it, it’s a simple matter to write a check and drop it off. ‘God damn! Why can’t the utility company get into this century & fix it so I can pay on line’ I thought.

A few tears managed to escape before I let you know I understood. “I’m sorry honey! Honestly I’ll try and do better. I promise!”

“Promise?” you ask

“Yes! I promise!” I answer you.

“Good!” you punctuate that acknowledgment with a very hard spank. “Because if you forget again, you’ll cut a switch, is that clear?”

I whimpered, but I nodded, and agreed.

You soothed my bottom, and massaged away some of the sting. “You are a very bad girl, aren’t you baby?”

“Um hmmmmmm,” I agree, and push my bottom against your hands as they knead me. You stop, and I look up to see you reach for the leather paddle. The first licks sting, but then you direct the spanks low where my legs are parted, and my sex is exposed. You put a twist and an up stroke on each spank, so that my flesh quivers as the paddle lifts and releases it. The rhythm massages me, and the heat and sting set fire to me. My hips rock to meet the paddle. I hear you chuckle.

“You like that don’t you bad girl?” you tease.

“Mmmmmmmmm,” I whimper, as you take the cue, and spank me harder.

You lean forward, and slip your left hand between my stomach and my legs, and then between my legs, and the intimate folds of my sex. The rhythm of the spanking never changes. Soon you are stroking me in that same rhythm. Look what you can do to me? I have gone from afraid, to angry, to aroused, and now I am in a state of bliss, all because you spank me. Because you are spanking me.

“Unnngggggghhh!” an involuntary groan escapes me, when you increase the force of the spanks, and plunge your fingers into me. Your thumb teases my cl*tor*s, and your fingers pull forward and stroke the firm oval of sensitive tissue inside the front wall of my vagin*. “Oh! ha!” I gasp, as you keep it up, increasing the force of each spank, as my hips shamelessly weave in their own rhythm. I grind myself against your hand, and lift up to meet the paddle on its down swing.

I loose track of time completely, as you punish me the way I most need to be punished. I don’t want it to end, but I know I cannot last much longer. I am rapidly approaching climax, and like you have taught me, I am holding on to delay it. The sensations become so much more intense when I do that, but the effort to hold out creates a kind of pain. When I cum, I can’t help but cry out.

You know it’s not pain, because my spasms clamp around your fingers. The rhythm of the spanking changes now, as you paddle me in time with the spasms of my climax. Your fingers and the paddle refuse to let it finish. Tears pour from my eyes, and finally I have to push my hips back and sit up.

“Will you be my good girl now?” you ask me as I look up into your eyes.

I smile, and nod. You sit back on the couch, but part of you pushes forward toward me insisting on attention.

It is my turn to smile wickedly, and look to you for permission. You nod, and pat the cushions on the couch beside you. I climb up and lay down across your right leg. I take your erect penis in my hands, and kiss the glistening head. It is wet with the salty beads of your arousal. My tongue spreads the liquid over the most sensitive part of you. You groan and your leg quivers under me. I keep up the tease, and you warn me to go easy with a solid hard spank. My bottom is positioned perfectly under your right arm.

My tongue caresses you, and my lips encircle you. I suck you into my mouth as deeply as I can, and stroke what won’t fit with my fingers. My saliva works like oil, and my fingers and tongue stroke you with it. You spank again. Setting up a new rhythm, and I try to match it with my lips, my tongue and my fingers.

I teased you with my teeth on your glans, and you let me know that it hurt, with a full stroke of the paddle. I giggled, and turned my face up to look into your eyes. You smile, and I go back to pleasing you. More salty trickles of fluid escape, and I know you will cum soon. Your hips push up as I suck you and push my lips down on you to meet my fingers as they stroke upward. I can tell the sensation is maddening for you. My tongue swirls and teases the head of your penis, and then compresses the vein that runs up one side.

You taste like garlic and oregano

Again, I tease you with my teeth, and you spank me harder. You begin to tremble, and I know if I could see your face, that your eyes are closed and your face is tensed in a grimace of bliss. The liquid you make mixes with my saliva, and I can tell by the stronger taste, that you are very close. I suck you harder now, and finally you tremble and groan. The pulsing rhythm of your ejacul*tion feeds me, and I take all that you release.

My own hips have shifted to straddle the edge of the couch, and have been pumping rhythmically under the spanks, and as you cum so do I.

There are times when you stretch to find a reason for this, and other times when I give you one. Not all punishments are bad… there are some that are very much worth it.

Also, I tried my writing skills and wrote down a 90-page 5 series book story: Love with every strike. Itis a book aboutBDSM, and domestic discipline – basically, my relationship with my master…

Klick here for more!

If you have any thoughts, write me a comment and I’ll get back at you!

Love,

Constance

Story: Pull down your pants – you like that? (2024)

FAQs

Who said "Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice, pull down your pants and slide on the ice"? ›

Pull Down Your Pants And Slide On The Ice. Just a quote from Dr. Sidney Freedman from MAS*H.

What does pulled my pants down mean? ›

to ask someone unexpectedly to do or say something that they are not prepared for.

Where did Pull Down Your pants and Slide on the Ice come from? ›

"Ladies_&_Gentleman_Take_My_Advice:_Pull_Down_Your_Pants_&_Slide_On_The_Ice!" is a song phrase originally quoted by Major Sidney Freedman (played by Alan Arbus) in the season 3 episode "O.R." He would restate the phrase in the M*A*S*H series finale, "Goodbye, Farewell and Amen." The phrase originates from songwriter ...

What do you call it when you pull down someone's pants? ›

Noun. pantsing (countable and uncountable, plural pantsings) The pulling down of a person's trousers, usually as a prank or form of bullying.

What did the speaker say I thank you ladies and gentlemen for? ›

The answers is: The speaker thanked ladies and gentlemen, for giving him a kind hearing.

Where did wearing your pants down come from? ›

According to lore, inmates allegedly sagged their pants to signal sexual availability. But Snopes, the fact-checking website, says this story is false. Sagging did begin in prison, but for a more banal reason: Prisoners were often issued clothing that was too large for them and they couldn't wear belts.

Where does the phrase caught with your pants down come from? ›

Frontiersmen couldn't go anywhere without danger. But man is bound by his bowels, and weapons were taken along when they had to go so he couldn't be caught unprepared. 3. A cheating husband would be caught without any pants.

Why do people slide on ice? ›

Sheldon Drobot explains why ice is slippery. It turned out to be a pretty interesting question to answer. “The frozen part is not the slippery part,” explained Sheldon. What makes ice slippery, he said, is a small amount of water sitting on top of the ice, which acts like a lubricant.

What is the British slang for pantsing? ›

In Britain, especially historically at Oxford and Cambridge Universities in England, the term is known as debagging (derived from Oxford bags, a loose-fitting baggy form of trousers). In Northern England the dialect renders the word "dekekking" or "dekecking" where "keks" is a local word for underwear.

What to do if someone pulls your pants? ›

  1. Pull pants up.
  2. Make a note to wear a belt next time.
  3. Maybe file a police report. If I can't recognise him there is little they can do. However, if they are aware it is happening, perhaps a pattern can be established.
  4. Be very careful about chasing them. Especially in an area you aren't familiar with.
Nov 14, 2017

What are pants called that only go to your knees? ›

Capri: Capri pants are knee-length or sometimes cropped right below the knee. They can be loose or form-fitting. Culottes are wide-leg capri pants. Another type of capri pants are Toreador pants—slim-fitting silk or satin pants for matadors.

Where did the idea of pants come from? ›

The oldest known trousers, dating to the period between the thirteenth and the tenth centuries BC, were found at the Yanghai cemetery in Turpan, Xinjiang (Tocharia), in present-day western China. Made of wool, the trousers had straight legs and wide crotches and were likely made for horseback riding.

Where did break the ice come from? ›

While some might connect the idiom to the 18th century when special ice-breaking ships were built to help explore he polar regions, the first recorded use actually goes back to the 17th century (1678) when Samuel Butler used it in his poem Hudibras. "The Oratour - At last broke silence, and the Ice."

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