Getting the bum(ps)


Today is my birthday. Although it’s rude to ask a lady her age, since I am quite clearly not a lady, I turned 38, in case you were wondering.

When I was at school, there was a tradition of giving someone who was celebrating their birthday “the bumps”. For those not familiar with the term, it generally involved the person whose birthday it was having their friends “bump” them, generally by kneeling them in the rear end a certain number of times, that number being the same as the age attained.

That was the childhood version, of course; now that I am supposedly an adult, Master C has come up with a more “grown up” variation.

This x-rated version of the bumps involves two phases, and as you would probably expect,it also involves me, bare arsed, bent over and bracing myself for support.

So, phase one:

Taking the grooved paddle that I referred to in Punishment fucks, Master C proceeds to give my poor little backside a thorough tanning. Thirty Eight strokes of the paddle, in groups of nine to each cheek, alternating left and right, before a final slap on each cheek rounds off the total. As I count out each thwack of the paddle, I can feel my face turn as red as my arse, I can feel eyes brim with tears, and I can feel my cunt grow uncomfortably wet.

Each stinging slap hurts that little bit more than the last one, each slap makes me cry out a little louder, each slap makes my juices flow that bit more.

“36…”, SLAP!

“37…”, SLAP!

“38…”, SLAP!

With tears streaming down my cheeks, which are as hot and flushed as my buttocks, I allow myself an inward smile; I have endured and I know what is about to come…

And then, phase two:

Master C grips my hips, his cock slides into me with one powerful thrust. The cheeks of my arse throb as He digs His fingers into the tender flesh. A moment’s pause, and then the “bumps” begin.

Master C thrusts into me, hard and deep, pulling me back on to Him. His body slams against mine with every deliciously powerful stroke of His cock. The only sounds to be heard are the slapping of skin on skin as His body repeatedly and forcefully collides with mine, and my moans; a mixture of pain and pleasure as Master C pounds my cunt.

This time I’m not counting the strokes, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Not that there’s any need, Master C won’t stop “bumping” until he’s done.

“Hap… py… birth… day…” He groans, each syllable punctuated with another surging thrust of His wonderful cock deep into my aching cunt.

Suddenly He’s gone. Distantly I hear Him moan. His warm, thick load splatters off my arse cheeks.

As Master C rubs his cum into still tender skin, applying it as if it were a balm to ease the stinging hurt, He kisses me on the small of my back in a way that makes my knees week and my cunt contract, and whispers, “Happy birthday, little one.”

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The multi-purpose arse


I quite like my arse. It’s not in bad shape, I don’t have too much cellulite, and it gives me something comfy to sit on.

Master C loves my arse. It has, according to Him, the perfect consistency for squeezing, and He does that at every opportunity.

I also love the things Master C does to my arse. From the way He grabs it, particularly in public; a gratuitous display of affection, to the way He spanks it with me bent over his knee. From the way He abuses it with His belt; leaving stinging red welts that make it painful to sit afterwards, to the way He fucks it.

My arse is frequently used and abused. It faces regular spankings, paddlings and thrashings when I transgress against Master C’s discipline. It gets fucked regularly as Master C uses me as His filthy little slut. It also gets squeezed and caressed in frequent spontaneous displays of affection.

Arses are extremely versatile, and are certainly not just for sitting on.

Party night


I’m going out tonight. It’s not actually a Christmas night out, but a friend’s 40th birthday. It will be messy, and I am under strict instructions from Master C to “enjoy myself”.

This instruction was given to me when He popped in briefly after work to get changed before heading out to a Christmas drinks reception, and delivered while I was bent over, wearing nothing but my stockings, with His cock pounding my cunt.

It was quite plain that Master C was marking His territory; fucking His slut ahead of anyone else, making sure my cunt is fucked and ready to be fucked again.

He took great pains to explain how He was “letting me off the leash” and how He expected me to be a “good little slut” and how I should “make Him proud”. Master C told me all this as He fucked me, His cock pounding me, his strong hand pulling my head sharply back by the hair while emphasising His instructions with a serious of stinging slaps to my arse.

When Master C came, He spun me around and shot His load over my boobs before instructing me to rub it in as I sucked the last drops of cum from His cock.

Once His cum had dried, Master C assisted in selecting my outfit for tonight. A lacy black bra with just a hint of lift to fully show off my cum encrusted boobs, a low cut dress that He particularly likes, a pair of mid-calf boots and, of course, no knickers (because a good slut doesn’t need them).

Once dressed, I was required to suck Master C‘s cock  as a “thank you” for being allowed to indulge my sluttiness, and was rewarded with a nice sized load of cum to savour and swallow. My first of the night.

Now I’m on a bus, on my way to meet my friends. My Cunt is wet and I’m looking forward to getting it filled again. Every now and then, I catch a faint whiff of Master C‘s cum, even over my perfume, and my cunt grows warmer and wetter still.

I’m as randy as hell, gagging for another fuck, and really looking forward to the rest of the evening. Almost as much as I’m looking forward to my debriefing and punishment tomorrow…

Punished for my pleasure


So, having spent almost the whole of yesterday getting myself well and truly fucked senseless by “The Other Guy”, it was only right that last night I faced a reckoning for my actions.

Bent, bare arsed over Master C’s knee, I proceeded to tell Him all about my activities of the previous hours. Every now and then, my narration would be punctuated with a resounding slap of His hand against my arse as I recounted some particularly naughty transgression. My arse was already stinging by the time I finished my account, telling Master C how I had packed “The Other Guy” off to work on the late shift with a smile on his face after a final farewell blow-job.

As is always the case, I was required to assess my performance. How slutty had I been? How much pleasure had I given “The Other Guy”? How well had I attended to his needs and wants? What punishment did my wanton sluttiness deserve?

It was agreed that I deserved Master C’s belt. That was pretty much a given in these circumstances. It was also agreed that my blatant hedonism was deserving of 10 lashes.

However, as I have mentioned before, Master C is a fair Master and He decided that the level of pleasure I had given “The Other Guy” over the best part of a whole day, especially the selflessness of the final blow-job deserved leniency. My punishment then was to be 8 lashes; 4 to each cheek.

My arse was already hot from where His hand had slapped it as I took position. I waited for the first kiss of His belt.

SLAP! “Count them!”

“Ahhh, one…”

SLAP!

“Ohhhh, t…two”

SLAP!

And so it continued, with me sobbing out each number as the leather bit into my skin; my eyes hot with tears.

The final lash landed. I was sobbing through the pain as I stammered out “ei…eight.”

Master C gripped my hips; His fingers pressed into my tortured skin as He pushed His wonderful cock inside me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head roughly back as He fucked me, hard, powerfully, without mercy.

In and out, again and again, over and over; Master C‘s cock drove deep into my cunt. He tugged on my hair, slapped my arse, called me His “filthy little slut” as his cock abused me.

And then He was gone. I felt a sudden emptiness where He had been as He spun me around. I watched, transfixed, frozen to the spot as Master C stroked His lovely cock in front of me.

One stroke, two, then a third, and then He erupted; showering His cum over my neck and boobs before forcing His cock between my lips to suck away the final traces.

“Play with yourself, slut, I permit you to cum now,” He ordered.

I closed my eyes, rubbed His cum into my skin with one hand while I fingered my cunt with the other.

“Cum for me, little one,” He said softly, encouragingly, “Cum for your Master.”

I didn’t take me long; Master C‘s soft words of encouragement helped me along as my clit throbbed beneath my fingers.

“I’m cumming, Sir!” I sobbed. “Your little slut is cumming for you.”

As the sensations claimed me, Master C  kissed me lightly on the forehead. “Good girl,” He said, “You are my very good little girl.”

I think I pleased Him…

Spank me! I’ve been a bad girl…


OK, so when I say I’ve been a bad girl, I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary (well, by my standards), but the truth is, sometimes I do deserve getting my arse spanked, and Master C is usually able to come up with some reason why I need a spanking.

Maybe it’s because I’ve made Him cum to soon. Maybe it’s because I am an amoral whore who has spent the entire day sending Him salacious text messages. Maybe it’s because I’ve succumbed (once again) to the softer side of my sexuality and had sex with “The Girl” or another woman, or I’ve been the unashamedly cock-hungry slut that I am and fucked “The Other Guy” or some other totally random bloke.

The reason doesn’t really matter. Suffice to say there is hardly a week that goes by where I don’t commit some transgression that doesn’t involve me bent over Master C’s knee with my skirt flipped up and my knickers round my ankles as His hand slaps my arse hard. Let’s face it, when you’re a naughty little slut like me, getting a good spanking every now and again is simply an occupational hazard.

Of course sometimes it may be something I’m doing during sex that results in Master C needing to spank me.

It’s possible that I’m not quite sucking His cock quite to His liking, and this will result in me getting my arse well and truly tanned until I learn to do it right. After all, He works hard to put food on our table (and for me to burn it) so it’s only fair and right that He gets his cock sucked to His satisfaction, and if I don’t do it right, well I deserve to be thrashed until I learn to do it properly.

Of course, sometimes a spanking is simply to remind me what a naughty and filthy little slut I am.

As He fucks me hard from behind, driving His cock into my cunt or my arse, Master C will often take advantage of my upturned arse cheeks to remind me of what a bad little girl I am and how I’m lucky that He is prepared to put up with me. If I’ve recently been with “The Girl” or another woman, having my cunt stuffed full of cock while He chastises me for my ‘indiscretion’ only helps to emphasis the fact that He is now giving me what that other woman couldn’t, i.e. a lovely, thick, real-live cock.

At the end of the day, there are always numerous reasons why I need to be spanked. The funny thing is, I never seem to learn my lesson…