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--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 2001 by Mark Smith - Feel free to treat this 
story as you will. I ask only that you let me know if 
you archive or repost it: it's good for my ego.
--------------------------------------------------------

Tie Me Up And Spank Me
by Mark Smith (mfsmith@operamail.com)

***

A guy plans some kinky sex with his kinky girlfriend 
only to find that he gets more than he expected. (MF, 
bd)

***

My girlfriend's a bit strange.

Personally, I blame it on her name. The poor girl's a 
victim of that late Twentieth Century fetish for 
messing about with the spelling of otherwise perfectly 
normal names. I've always thought that Caitlin is quite 
a pretty name, but somehow it loses its magic when you 
know that it's spelled Kaytlynne.

My way of dealing with it is to think of her as, and 
call her Kate. I quite consciously visualise that 
spelling every time her name comes into my head. I 
shudder when her friends call her Kaytlynne, because I 
can see the name in my head as if lit up in neon 
lettering.

Maybe it's not right to call her strange. Perhaps I 
should be more tolerant and just say she's different 
from me. Sexually, for example, she's not at all like 
me. She's aggressive and adventurous, whereas I'm ... 
well ... not. She wants to try new things, while I'm 
quite happy with the same old things. They haven't 
stopped exciting me yet and I'm happy to stick with 
what I know works for me.

My Kate, however, is a different kettle of fish 
entirely. "Why don't we try this?" she'll ask me, 
throwing a magazine onto the dinner table. Usually it's 
a women's magazine with one of those "sealed sections", 
wherein reside all sorts of titillation for the modern 
woman, displaying the latest fashions in sexual 
positions and/or fetishes.

At this point I usually try to change the subject, 
often by saying something like "Please get that 
magazine off my food," but she inevitably returns to 
the subject later.

"Well, what do you reckon?" and the magazine will land 
meaningfully again, open to a page showing in some 
detail an improbable sexual act involving a chair, a 
clock, some mustard and two or more naked people.

Our negotiations usually end in a compromise. We lose 
the mustard and the third and fourth persons and 
proceed to make what we can of the chair, the clock and 
ourselves. I usually find it all a bit too forced for 
me to be able to enjoy completely, and Kate no doubt 
worries that she's missing out on something that the 
mustard and the extras would have added.

Our relationship is a bit like this in all things, not 
just sex. It may sound as though we're not very 
compatible, but we generally get on very well indeed. 
Neither of us embraces the other's extremes, but we 
share the middle ground quite happily. We don't always 
use the missionary position and we don't always need 
toys or food in bed. We accept that she's weird and I'm 
conservative and we enjoy the things we have in common. 
Our differences are amusedly tolerated, and our 
awareness of them helps to add some spice to our 
relationship.

To be fair, it wasn't Kate that got me into trouble. It 
was me. And the television. I'm not going to let the TV 
escape its share of the blame for this. We were lying 
on our bed, quite early in the evening, with the TV on. 
This may sound strange to some people who think that 
it's not normal to have a TV in the bedroom, but these 
are people who have no appreciation of the importance 
of late-night televised sport.

The problem was that there was absolutely nothing worth 
watching. If you were the sort of person with a quote 
from Pink Floyd for every occasion, then the line about 
"thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from" 
would probably pop into your head.

"What are we going to do?" said Kate, pondering aloud 
rather than actually asking. "The pub, a video, a 
desperate search for an unread good book?"

"How about sex?" I suggested, perhaps no more than 
half-seriously. Don't get the idea that I'm not 
interested in sex. I know what I like, and I like it a 
lot. I don't usually initiate it though, Kate generally 
does quite enough of that to keep us both happy.

"What?" she exclaimed in mock surprise, "Don't tell 
more you're turning into a sexual aggressor!"

"It must be all these years under your influence," I 
suggested, "Next thing you know I'll be suggesting 
something kinky."

She sat up interestedly. "This I've got to see. Come on 
then, tell me how you want it and I'm all yours. No 
holes barred, as they say, no kink too much. Place your 
orders here."

"OK Mistress," I grinned at her, "Why don't you tie me 
up and spank me?"

A mile spread across Kate's face as she pondered this. 
"Right," she decided, "You stay there and I'll get the 
necessary bits and pieces."

With this she turned off the TV and left the room with 
a purposeful look on here face. I knew where she was 
going: her Junk Room. We have an entire room dedicated 
to things that Kate has collected over the years. She 
never, ever throws anything away if she thinks that 
there's even the slightest chance that she might find a 
use for it one day.

What's more, she knows precisely what's in there and 
where it is. To everyone else on this planet, her Junk 
Room is an intimidating mess. Kate, though, can walk in 
and almost instantly locate whatever she wants.

Sure enough, she was back in what seemed like only 
seconds. She jumped back onto the bed and showed me the 
fruits of her journey. From the depths of the Junk Room 
she had procured four small letter straps, complete 
with buckles. I knew better than to ask where she'd got 
them from, their history was sure to be even more 
unlikely than their presence.

"OK then, get your gear off and get face down."

"Face down?"

"Well," she said slowly, as if speaking to an idiot, "I 
assumed that spanking was going to involve your bum, 
and I'm going to find it a bit hard to spank it if it's 
pointing at the bed. Of course, I can always find 
another part of you to spank."

I had to admit that it made sense, so I undressed 
quickly and laid face down on the bed.

Kate looked at me and grinned. "Enjoying this?"

Having seen me from front on, she knew full well that I 
was aroused. The thought of being tied up and spanked 
didn't do much for me but I was actually feeling quite 
adventurous for a change and, knowing Kate, there would 
be more and better to come.

She was very efficient when it came to tying me up, so 
efficient that I think she must have done it before. I 
didn't even have time for second thoughts before my 
four limbs were firmly tied to the four corners of the 
bed.

I turned my head sideways to look at Kate, who was 
still fully clothed. "What now?" I asked her.

"I think this is where I'm supposed to ask you if 
you've been a bad boy," she replied with a grin.

"Very bad, Mistress," I admitted, playing my role to 
the hilt.

"I think you'll have to be punished then. Bad boys 
deserve punishment." As she said this she brought her 
hand towards my bottom. I tensed, but she just fondled 
my bum. I made the mistake of relaxing. Having lulled 
me into a false sense of security, she lifted her hand 
quickly and brought it down hard.

The snapping sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed around 
the room, but it was a moment longer before my nerve 
endings saw fit to transmit the pain to my brain. Then 
I yelled out in surprise and pain, I hadn't expected 
her to hit me so hard.

"What's wrong? Not what you expected?" Kate rubbed her 
hand gently over my sore bottom.

"Not exactly," I managed through gritted teeth.

"Oh well, you should be careful what you ask for then."

With this she turned away from me and started walking 
towards the door.

"Kate? Where are you going?"

"I thought I might go to the pub for a while."

"You mean we've finished?"

"Sure, what else did you expect."

"Well," I offered plaintively, "I was hoping that a 
fuck wasn't out of the question."

"You should have asked for one then," she suggested, "I 
did everything that you asked. I tied you up and 
spanked you."

"I see. It seems that I just took some things for 
granted. Is it too late to add some requests?"

"Most definitely. I'm thirsty," and she left the room.

"Kate. Kate! Untie me?"

"As you said, you took some things for granted," she 
called from somewhere near the front door.

This was not the first time I'd been the victim of 
Kate's sense of humour, and my previous experiences led 
me to suspect that she was quite serious about going 
out and leaving me there. Still, it was worth one last 
try.

"Kaytlynne? You can't leave me here with nothing to 
do!"

For a moment I thought it had worked. Her footsteps 
came back towards the bedroom and she pushed the door 
open and walked in.

"You're right, I can't leave you with nothing to do." 
She picked up the TV remote control from where she'd 
left it and placed it in my hand. "See you at closing 
time."

She left the room again, her footsteps receded again 
and the front door opened and closed.

Thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from.

END
 
Any and all responses are eagerly awaited. Please email 
me at: mfsmith@operamail.com

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 66