Spanked Bottom in Boscombe 1
Every Summer I go to England to stay with my grandmother at Southbourne in Dorset, along the south coast. Her house is quite near the beach, but I do hate tan lines. Luckily her garden is mostly secluded, and I don’t mind if the gentleman next door gets a peek! I also like to run to Hengistbury Head nearby, where there is a nudist beach. When there are enough nude people there I like to go and swim in the waves naked and feel their power.
I always fly over with the swimsuits that my mother approves of, but my Gran will always makes sure I have a string bikini to wear. I have loved them since I was a child, and to this day it has always made me feel slightly excited to know that I am two tugs away from being completely naked in public.
It will be in my string bikini that I will often take an afternoon walk along the waterfront to Boscombe, and then on to Bournemouth along the sandy beach. I tend not to dawdle, I actually don’t want to be approached, I just like to saunter along with my small beach bag and make waves. I ignore the whistles, but every so often when my path crosses an older gentleman who is quietly enjoying the view, I will say “hello” and smile as I walk by.
I have always flirted with older men, MUCH older men, as in grandfather material. I like the way their eyes light up when they see me in a short skirt, or even more so in a string bikini, but they also make me feel safe and protected. I don’t know if it is something that comes with age or because they come from another age. But they seem to know how I want to be treated. With respect and courtesy, but also with, well, with dominance I suppose. They often have an aura of authority that I find rather seductive, by which I mean it brings out the submissive in me.
I am not completely submissive, most people who meet me think of me as being a bit of a terror and imagine that I am a dominant. But a part of this may be because of the weakness of men my age. They want to be dominant and masculine, but this is just to hide their insecurity. In nature, alpha males mate with alpha females.
Oh, and since I am talking about me, I should also confess that I am kinky. At a young age I liked games in which I got tied up. I run a lot, in fact I could have competed at school but I didn’t like the practices or the creepy coaches. I also have a rigorous glute regime which I maintain religiously, perhaps mostly because I love the feel of that burn in my bum. There was something about pain in my buttocks that I really enjoyed, and I had experimented with a flogger made of leather thongs I had acquired at a craft shop.
So you can imagine how the kinky part of me and the part of me that makes me submissive towards older men conspires together to make me wobbly at the sight of a gentleman with a stern gaze.
My Gran had told me to never walk under the Pier when I get to Boscombe, the town between Southbourne and Bournemouth, so here I walk along the Promenade not the beach, itself. A string bikini really does not leave much to the imagination, and as I walked along you could see exactly what I have. I am petite, at five feet two inches and 110 pounds soaking wet, and quite athletic in build, with long curling dark hair.
As I walked along the Promenade I saw an older gentleman standing ahead with a dog. The man was watching me intently, the dog was more interested in a child with an ice cream. I thought I would actually remove my sunglasses for this man, and pause to say good day. I even thought I would walk past him, and turn back. My boobs are not big, and my body is not as soft as some may prefer, but that also means that my runner’s bottom is a delight in a string bikini, especially if it is riding up a little…
“Hello, Sir!” I said, turning and lowering my shades. “Nice dog!” I don’t always call them “Sir”, but something happened at that moment when I looked into his eyes. His expression had exactly the sort of benevolent dominance that brought out the submissive in me. He was a well-dressed gentleman in a crisp linen jacket and a straw trilby hat, sitting next to him was a scruffy-looking terrier of some sort.
“Thank you!” he said with a smile. “That is a lovely swimsuit.”
“Thank you, Sir. My grandmother bought it for me.”
“Really? It seems your grandmother and I are in agreement. Albus is from the pound,” he turned to the dog. I squatted down to scratch his ear, which he enjoyed, then I looked up at the gentleman. As he stood over me it stirred something deep within my body.
“Well, I had better be going,” I said, standing up and looking in his eyes. He had a slightly smug smile, as though he knew what was going on in my head.
“Do you often walk along here?” he asked.
“Um, yes, I do, every day actually.” I smiled.
“Oh, well perhaps we will meet again, I just live up there on the cliff.” He pointed to the cliff behind him where there was a row of very nice old Victorian houses, all painted white. “There is a lovely view from my study, perhaps you’d like to visit some time and enjoy the vista.”
“Haha! I am not sure my grandmother would agree to my going into strange gentlemen’s houses!” He smiled.
“I would once again agree with your grandmother in that, although I do like being referred to as a “gentleman”. Gives me a rather distinguished air. My name is Campbell, by the way, Michael Campbell, retired professor, at your service.” And he gave a gallant little bow.
“Oh! My name is Bellisima,” I said, giving a facsimile of a curtsy. “But you can call me Bella.”
“Ah! The name is as beautiful as its owner!” He said, and I blushed. “And of course you would be in no danger if you came up to my house given the attention you and I have received as we have talked here.” I looked around and indeed every passerby was looking at us very intently, the petite near-naked girl and the tall distinguished gentleman.
“I imagine, given the proclivities of youth, you have a mobile telephone in that bag. If you took a photograph of me and sent it to a friend you would have nothing to fear.”
“Haha! I don’t know, I am sure you would like to get up to some wickedness with me, you do have a roguish air, Sir.”
“Of course I would, toots, but it would hardly be something against your will after we have been seen together by so many people.”
“Haha! Toots? Is that something naughty?”
“Toots? No, I get that from watching old gangster movies when I was a boy. I don’t want you to think I am too safe,” he smiled. “No, if I thought you were naughty I would call you a strumpet and promise to give you a good spanking. Of course wearing that swimsuit and giving all these old men a glad eye might suggest that you do deserve a spanking.”
I didn’t know what a “glad eye” was but I could imagine. Had he just suggested that he should spank me? I think he did. I got a strange excited feeling inside me, a deep sinking and elated feeling at the same time, and I knew I was going to do whatever he wanted. The fact that my nipples became noticeably hard probably signalled that fact to him.
“Well, I suppose I could go for a quick look,” I said, but I took a photograph of him and sent it to a friend anyway. He put out an elbow for me to take, and so I did, allowing him to lead me up the hill and towards his house. He distracted me as we walked, pointing out the points of interest along the coast and across the sea at Purbeck. It was a nice old house that had apparently belonged to the family for generations.
“All the other houses along here are B&B’s now.” He said as we approached the house. It was built with servant’s rooms in the basement, and steps leading up to the front door. I kicked off my sandy flip-flops at the door and put my bag down on a table. As I looked around while I stood in the hallway I felt very keenly aware that I was standing practically naked and alone in a strange man’s house, and also that I was quite happy with the situation.
“So, may I ask, are you of age?” he asked. “It is sometimes hard to tell if a girl is fourteen or twenty, especially a petite one like you.”
“I am of age, Sir. My mother is my height.”
“Good. Just curious, of course. Now, the best view is upstairs, two stories I’m afraid,” he said as he hung up his hat and jacket, and he indicated the stairs. I went ahead with him following closely behind, my heart racing at what was going to happen. There were bedrooms on the lower floor.
“I have my study in the upstairs room because of the view.” He then waved me into a lovely study lined with books. Right away I could see there was an excellent vista across the bay to Purbeck through French doors that led onto a balcony. I stood by the doors and looked out at the view. He sat on a chair next to me.
“You really are quite naughty, you know, coming into a strange man’s house in that little bikini.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
“You probably do deserve a spanking.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said. I was sure he could see my breast heaving and that he knew I was now his to do with as he wished.
“That really is such a naughty swimsuit,” he said, idly holding the lace on my bottoms. “One tug and it would just fall off.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Very slowly he pulled on the lace, it seemed to take forever as I looked out across the sea, but finally with one last tug it was loose, and it fell to the floor. He got up now, and stood behind me. Gently he took hold of the laces of my top, both the one at my neck that kept it up, and the one around me that kept it on. Very slowly he again pulled at the laces, until the top also fell to the floor, and then I was naked, with Sir standing behind me. I continued to look out the window, my breast heaving with anticipation.
“Put your feet shoulder width apart,” came his voice behind me, quietly masterful in his tone, with an authority I could only obey. So I obeyed. “Put your hands on the back of your head, with your back straight.” I complied again. “Good girl. From now on, when I say ‘inspection’ you will assume this position, understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Again in an unhurried manner he came to my side, placing the chair in front of me. His hand then slowly came up my front, not touching me, but tantalising me with the approach of touch, teasing me until I wanted Sir’s touch more than anything. His finger touched my nipple and I inhaled sharply, my heart fluttering with excitement. I looked down at my breast as his finger circled the areola, then teased the nipple itself. His finger and thumb then closed on my nipple, and pulled gently.
“Oh Sir!” I whispered as he tweaked me into an even deeper submission. His hand now rested on my bottom, stroking the smooth rounded flesh. Then, simultaneously, he tweaked really hard and slapped my bottom. I writhed with the pain, but kept my position.
“Good girl,” he said. I had never been so thrilled to receive approval. “Now bend over, put your hands on the chair.” I obeyed his instructions and bent forward to put my weight on the seat of the chair, lifting my bottom for Sir’s pleasure. His hand caressed the skin of my bum again, covering every inch with his soft hands.
“I see that you shave down here. Sir approves.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Actually I wax but correcting him might spoil the mood. After caressing my soft skin, his hand left my bottom. I braced myself, but also my bottom lifted up to receive what was coming.
SMACK! Came the blow. I inhaled sharply and writhed with the sensation as it burned into my flesh. But my bottom rose for the next as I exhaled. SMACK!
“Oohh,” I groaned, my body writhing with the stimulus. Again my bottom rose, eager for Sir’s powerful touch. SMACK! The blows were beginning to build up, making me feel increasingly submissive towards Sir. My bottom rose once more and SMACK! The heat surged into my bottom as I writhed, and as I lifted my bottom up again I could feel a breeze that told me my pussy was getting wet. SMACK! I groaned throatily as I took one step further in submission toward Sir. SMACK!
“Oh Sir!” I said, spoken as a plea to be taken and possessed by Sir.
He caressed my bottom again, the hand cooling to my skin. But this time his hand slipped down between my legs, and his fingers gently but firmly parted my nether lips and entered me. I gasped and writhed with pleasure. Sir was fingering my sex, and all I wanted was to feel him in me.
“Mmm, yes. You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Stand up and turn around, inspection position.” I quickly submitted to his will, and stood facing him in the position he had instructed. “Look into my eyes,” he ordered, and I obeyed. My nakedness was not just physical now, Sir could see deep within me and he knew what I was. Most importantly, he knew that I was his. He looked into my eyes and I looked into his, and we both knew that he owned me completely. His hand rose to my breast, and again tweaked it, first gently, then harder.
“Clearly you can take it, so I am going to enjoy giving you more now. I am going to collar you, and you will then become mine, not just for this afternoon. A part of you will always be mine from now on, for all time.”
“Yes, Sir.” I said, for I knew it was true.
