The Penalty

Her heart was beating so fast, she couldn't tell if she was nervous, excited or even a little bit scared, but she knew she deserved what was coming.

--

When they began dating, late last summer, she had tried to find a fun way to spend their limited time together, something he would actually enjoy.

Even though he was from states away, she was lucky to find a local group for his team, and had taken them out for the first game of the season.

They were a few months in now, and his home team had played today's game against her local team, that's how the trouble began.

Despite the fact she had found this fan group, and had happily accepted their welcome, she had acted like a dirty little traitor in their midst.

She wore his team's jersey, rooted for them and cheered their advances, but it didn't slip his attention when she smiled at awarded flags, and downs succeeded, by the team from which she had supposedly defected.

Worst of all, was the maroon and gold tee she hung on her chair, the fact she brought it along was a constant reminder of her double allegiance.

She honestly didn't care about football, it wasn't important to her, but he was a die-hard fan of his team, and she decided to be a brat about it.

In the end, it had been a slaughter, his team had mopped the field with the opposition. It was embarrassing really, and he found sadistic pleasure in her conflicted celebration of victory over the players she'd betrayed.

They returned home, living out the routine of their normal existences, retrieving her kid from her ex's home, having dinner and family time, then tucking in for bed. All was quiet and serene, when he decided the time had come.

"Sweetie, I need you to go upstairs." He said to her, placing a kiss atop her head.

She looked up at him, "Are you ready for bed? She asked innocently.

"Just go upstairs, please." He said, and gently nudged her up from the place she'd nestled against his chest.

She felt confused, but not one to argue, "Okay." she agreed, and lifted from the comfort of his embrace. She looked at him quizzically, and he gave her an assuring smile, before she made her way up.

Once she entered their bedroom she felt lost for instruction, she was still dressed, mostly in her clothes from the game, but she felt almost overdressed.

Having removed her bra on their arrival home, she was still wearing his team's jersey, jeans, and cotton underpants. She decided to remove the jeans, and sit on the bed to await his arrival.

He turned off the lights and tv downstairs, scooped up one last item, locked the doors, and headed upstairs.

When he reached the top of the stairwell, he saw her through the part in the doorway. She had removed her jeans and perched herself at the foot of the bed. Naughty girl, she probably kept the jersey to remind him of a sexy cheerleader. Such a naive little thing, if she only knew.

She startled slightly as the door pushed open, he had climbed the stairs so quietly, she had not heard his approach.

He smiled at her in a way that made her shiver, his tall figure leaned against the door frame, left arm behind him, as the right had pushed the door ajar.

"You sure do look good in green." He smiled down at her, looking more lecherous than sincere. "What was that final score again?" He asked, still smirking.

"Thirty-four, to twenty!" She chimed, in enthusiasm, not even realizing the danger ahead.

His expression shifted to mock pity, "That must have stung, huh?" He asked apathetically

The look on her face was delicious, he thought, as she tried to comprehend. "Stung?" She asked, adorably confused.

"Yes," he replied with a wry smile, still perched against the door frame, "watching your real team get slayed so brutally."

She shifted slightly, her brow furrowing against her will, but she tried her best to remain placid. "What do you mean?" She feigned ignorance.

He leaned away from the door frame and sauntered toward her, a devilish smile playing across his features. "Aw sweetie, don't play coy, we both know you're a dirty little traitor." He said, while scooping his fingers under her chin, and tilting her face to meet his gaze.

She winced slightly at the sting of his accusation, "I'm not a traitor!" she tried to defend, a pout on her full pink lips.

"Then why did you wear the jersey to the game, and not your team's tee?" He questioned, his expression smug.

"I - " she paused, but no good explanation could follow, so it hung unanswered.

"Yet, you brought the t-shirt too," he interrupted her thoughts, "admit it, you were secretly rooting against us, weren't you?" His tone warning the trap she'd stumbled into.

She was pinned, he was right. She wore the jersey he purchased, such a loving and supporting girlfriend, but she had brought her team's tee-shirt along too, hoping they might reign triumphant, and she could claim she never doubted their victory. She was a dirty double-crosser

"A bit." She whispered, her head hung in shame. His fingers ran through her dark hair, and his hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"I can forgive you," he said reassuringly, and as her gaze lifted, his left arm drew from behind his back, "after you're punishment, that is."

Her eyes felt like disks, as she focused on the paddle in his hand. It wasn't even a paddle really, it was a toy. A plastic, Spider-Man themed, paddle-ball game, that had lost its string and ball. It had been destined for the trash, but now it had gained new life.

"Betraying your team is an awful thing to do, wouldn't you agree." He said rhetorically, as he traced his free hand across her cheek. "Loyalty is such an important thing in this world." his fingers moved back along her cheekbone, and tangled sharply into her hair

She hissed air through her teeth, as the pain prickled her scalp. "Y-yes," she stammered, "I agree!" Her chest lifted toward his body, presenting in submission, under his grasp.

He guided her to her feet, his firm grasp on her chin length locks, directing her up on her toes, where he then pulled her closer, and kissed her firmly. His tongue parted her lips, and took her mouth captive. The mixture of surrender and desire swirling through her body gave the kiss an intoxicating effect, and the had to place her hands against his chest to balance.

His grasp on her hair released, and he stroked the place he had previously held, as their kiss broke free. "Are you ready to accept your punishment?" He asked, staring intently into her eyes, in a way that said, there is only one correct answer.

"I am." she whispered, trying not to smile at him, as they both knew this was something she had hoped for, for quite some time.

This was going to be a lesson, surely one she would never forget, but it wasn't exactly an unwelcome one. Secretly, she liked rough play, well secretly to an outsider, she had made it very well-known to him.

That's where the paddle came in, the darn thing broke days ago, and she is usually the type to quickly toss a broken toy, but the thing hung around. Seemed like she saw another fitting use for it, and didn't want to let it go. So here they were.

"Take off your underwear" He instructed, as he stepped back to observe.

Now she couldn't help herself, the smirk crept across her face, and transformed into a playful smile. "Yes, Sir!" she replied, hooking her thumbs into the elastic waistband, and then sliding the white cotton over her hips, down her thighs, and letting them drop softly to the floor, before stepping out of them, and using her right foot to flick them away.

She crossed her arms at her waist, grabbing the hem of the jersey, ready to lift it away

"Not yet." He said, and her hands fell away to her sides. You really do look good in green," he smiled, and she blushed back at him, "but I like that shade of maroon on your skin too." His tone making that sound ominous, as his attention seemed to shift.

"Where did you put the shirt when we got home." He asked without real question, pulling open the dresser drawer, and lifting it with finger and thumb, like it was something sticky.

"Makes sense," he chuckled lightly, "it wouldn't be dirty from just sitting on a chair all afternoon would it?" He cocked a sideways smile her direction "Would it, Sweetheart?" He asked again.

She glared back at him, "No." She replied in obstinate reluctance.

"Lets change that." He smiled at her wickedly. "Take off the jersey and lay it on the bed."

She lifted the green and white fabric over her waist, fair soft breasts, and fit arms. She flipped it back right side out, laid it on the comforter, then turned to face him.

He flicked the t-shirt over to her, "Now, put that on." He commanded.

She pulled the tee over her head, and slid the soft cotton down her body. Loyalties or not, this shirt was a thousand times more comfortable. Her hands smoothed over where the fabric ended at her hips, and she looked up at him pensively.

His smile was appreciative, as he stepped closer to her, his eyes appraising her. "Not bad," he said, circling her body so she was now between him and the foot of the bed, "You wear this color well too."

She blushed at his praise, and a deep rosy color crept over her complexion, looking almost as though the hue of her shirt had spread to her skin.

He stepped even closer to her now, his right arm wrapping around her waist, and his hips lining up against her body, guiding her before the words left his lips. "Turn and face the foot of the bed." he whispered in her ear.

She obeyed readily, as he laid the paddle down beside her jersey on the mattress. His left hand moved to embrace her around her ribs, before gliding up to squeeze the fullness of her right breast, pulling her body more firmly to his own.

He massaged her breast firmly, cupping it entirely in his large hand, grasping the hardened nipple and rolling it between his thumb and two fingertips. The fabric of the shirt further roughened his manipulation, and heightened her sensation.

Her back arched, and her bottom rocked back against him invitingly, the deliciousness of his touch driving her into a lustful craze. She could feel his erection behind the thick denim of his jeans, and rubbed her bare flesh against the firmness

His attentions spread now to her left breast and nipple, and he slid his right hand southward, fingertips sliding over the short dark hairs, to nestle between the warm, wet lips of her pussy.

He felt her hands grip into the sides of his legs, and a soft gasp escaped her lips, as he slowly stroked his fingertips between her folds, gently caressing her sensitive clit.

Leaving her breast, he rested his hand on her left shoulder and whispered in her ear. "Open your legs."

She stepped her legs farther apart, and felt him use pressure on her shoulder to bend her over at the waist. Her elbows came to rest on the mattress in front of her, positioning her body directly above the jersey she had laid there just moments before.

He was still nestled firmly against her ass, his bulge now incredibly titillating, pressed into the grooves of her sex, as his fingertips circled and strummed at her clit one last second, and slid away.

He leaned over her, sliding his right hand over her back and shoulder, before resting his chest against her, his left arm bracing against the mattress.

His right hand wrapped around her throat, grasping under her jaw, and tilting her head, so she was facing the wall at the head of their bed. "Time to pay your penalty." he menaced

She felt a shiver run down her spine, as the words absorbed, and he released his hold under her jaw. She watched in nervous excitement as he grabbed the paddle from its resting spot, and she felt the warmth and pressure of his body lift away from hers.

Another shiver snaked over her as he stroked his left palm from between her shoulders, down her spine, to rest above her tailbone, and he took his stance beside her displayed position.

"Tell me the score again." he instructed

"Um-" she hesitated

His hand slid from over her tailbone to caress her bottom, "Don't play forgetful, Sweetheart, we both know you know."

"Thirty-four, to twenty." her voice a mumble

"Louder!" he demanded, punctuating the word with a stinging slap, from the fingers that had just been so gently caressing her soft skin.

She startled at the sudden heat, and inhaled a sharp hiss of air through her teeth. "It was Thirty-Four to Twenty." she enunciated clearly this time.

He chuckled lightly at how drastically her cooperation improved with just a bit of encouragement. "That's right, and tell me, how many points did your team lose by?"

"But I-" another swat fell, the surprise interrupting her defiance, and she lifted on her toes, to escape.

"Don't even try it," he growled, "how many?"

A whimpering noise escaped her, in protest of participating in digging her own hole, but she answered despite herself. "Fourteen." she responded meekly

His smirk was salacious now, "Good girl, that wasn't so hard now was it." he stroked her bottom again, and she unconsciously leaned towards his caress. "So I think it only fair that you get fourteen marks for rooting against them, or was it us, you know I really can't tell." his sarcastic amusement taunting her.

She was stirring with aroused sensation now. Her fantasies becoming real at last, she felt herself succumbing to her desires to submit to his authority, "Yes," she breathed, "I deserve it."

"What do you deserve." He smiled down at her, knowing she was fully embracing it now.

She responded with a voice that trembled in ashamed desire, "I deserve a spanking."

"Then its settled." he said, his fingers smoothing along her ample bottom, caressing the left cheek, closest to where he stood, and then the right, before lifting away. "We are going to warm up a bit first." he began, and slid the paddle, handle first, into his jean pocket for safe keeping.

His left hand rested above her tailbone again, and he began to massage her full roundness with the right. "Are you ready to see if we can make your bottom match your shirt?"

She nodded her response, to excited to speak, a quick second later a light rap landed, then another on the opposite cheek. She expected to shy from these strikes, but found herself seeking them.

Each time one connected, he would gently smooth the site, before lifting away again, and each time her hips would raise toward the direction his hand had departed.

For him, watching her present her ass high for the next slap was surprisingly erotic. He knew she liked to play a bit rough, but he never imagined how much she would like being punished this way. He could see how wet she had become, and her body language was now wanton and shameless.

"You're going to need to keep count." He instructed.

She heard the words only a millisecond before she felt their meaning, as the first real blow landed squarely on the fullest part of her right ass-cheek. She jumped at the biting electricity sent through her body.

He had surprised her, switching deftly to the paddle, and she'd apparently been rendered speechless.

"Count, Sweetie, or we are going to have to stop." he reminded, knowing that would bring her back to attention.

"One." she exhaled, her breath was shaky, but in the good way he recognized as a pleasure sound for her.

"Good" he replied, and arced the paddle back toward her bottom. It landed perfectly, right on the sweet spot she'd told him all about a million times. That sensitive crease between the top of her thigh, and the bottom of her ass, the one that makes her shiver if he runs his fingers across it.

"Two!" she half yelped, the cut of this one greater and more spurring than the first, she felt her whole body resonate with its wake.

He slid the paddle up her pinkening cheek before lifting it away and alternating two quick strikes again, one to each side, causing her to stammer out her next two counts in quick order.

She was making that whimpering noise she made when she was fighting herself, the one that said she was experiencing a blissful level of torture. "You like them fast don't you, Naughty Girl?" he asked with a knowing tone

She shook her head yes, feeling like she was answering though a haze. She was so turned on, his handling, and his words driving her headlong into an intoxicating euphoria. If it weren't for his hand steadying her, she feared she might collapse.

"Very well," he said, "fast it is then." He landed 5 more alternating blows to her bottom, stepping forward to steady her as she shied away from the fifth, and laid the paddle gently atop her spine so he could rub and soothe her now bright red cheeks.

"What number are we on?" he asked, as his hand caressed her sensitive flesh.

Her brain raced, she fought to focus through the fervor, "I'm not sure," she breathed in, and centered her focus on his warm sweeping palm. "nine?" she said nervously

He moved his hand down to graze over her wet slit, and slipped his fingers between the engorged lips massaging small circles over her swollen clit. "That's right, Sweetie, very good." he purred. She moaned, rolling her hips up, and pressing into his touch, for more.

Her knees wanted to buckle, his large, rough fingers always felt so amazing, but swirling this pleasure with the stinging tingle of her punished behind, and it was magnified a thousand times.

She had almost completely forgotten about the remaining punishment, so distracted by the sweet interlude of pleasure, when the time came for it to resume.

He sat on the bed beside her shifting her around to lay across his lap. He circled his palm twice over the swell of her ass, before drawing back and landing a firm swat evenly across the bottom of both cheeks. The forceful impact causing her to jump, before she remembered to tally the blow.

"Ten!" escaped her in a desperate sounding exclamation, and her feet lifted in response to the jolt.

He massaged her clit again, long sliding strokes this time, causing her to melt back into his lap and let down her guard again.

Withdrawing his fingers, he watched her hips raise instinctually to follow them, and immediately fired the final hard lashes, two to each side of her vulnerable posterior.

She yelped loudly, as these were the most brisk of all, and her body had already been brought to new levels of awareness.

"Eleven! Twel-Thirteen, Fourteen!" left her in a cracked cries, then she felt his fingers slip inside her, beginning to rub and stroke, inside her wet pussy, mercilessly caressing her swollen g-spot, and sending her reeling.

He slid his fingers from her, just long enough to roughly strum her clit, and push back inside again, leaving her moaning and writhing across his lap.

She was surprisingly more composed when he was spanking her, than now with his fingers stroking inside her, stimulating her rapidly toward orgasm.

"Please,' she begged him, attempting to raise from his lap, but to no avail, his weighted grasp held her prone, and he drove her closer and closer to the edge, helpless to push his hand away.

"Please, What?" he urged, knowing exactly what she was wanting him to do.

She moaned out that whimpering sound again, "Please, fuck me" she pleaded desperately, craving more of him.

He released his grip and wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her from his lap, and pushing her back on the mattress, as he stood to face her.

He pulled her by the thighs, bringing her ass to the very edge of the bed, grabbed her ankles, pinning them together, and pushed them toward her left shoulder. Her hips twisted, bending her upward, as he ripped open his jeans and shoved them down his hips, lining himself up, and sinking his swollen cock inside her.

She let out a carnal moan of relief and satisfaction, nothing felt like that moment, the moment he filled her with the first stroke of penetration, so deep, and firm and warm, she lived for it.