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Steve

	Steve Miller – no relation to the guy with the band, as he often said when introducing
himself – was watching a movie on their ridiculously large widescreen HDTV. A recent
wedding gift, this made it almost like being at the cinema itself (surround sound and
everything), and he’d been waiting weeks for Netflix to deliver this particular DVD.
Nevertheless he immediately picked up the remote and paused play when his wife bustled
into the living room and hailed him.
	They’d been married barely two months, and his love and appreciation for her remained
all-consuming – as he fully expected it to forever. Beyond merely petite at only four
foot-ten and less than ninety pounds, Amy was a lovely little dynamo of buzzing vitality,
always eager for new experiences and always enjoying them with the same incomparable
gusto. Outgoing and fun-loving himself, Steve was confident their completely compatible
personalities would see them eventually grow old together with nary a dull moment in their
always eventful and supremely satisfying lives – particularly with regard to sex. 
    Both just twenty-three, they’d been lovers in college for nearly a year before
graduation and marriage. And Amy had proved just as inventive and experimental in bed as
she was at exhaustively pursuing novelty and excitement in the rest of her life. Right
away Steve felt his own always eager libido surge as she bounded up to him, recognizing
the familiar flush to her lovely freckled face and the dare-me fire in her bright blue
eyes. Nor was that the only cue. 
    Wearing only pale blue tights clinging to her slender legs and curvy hips and butt,
and a threadbare T-shirt ripped off to expose her tiny waist and trim little belly the
extraordinarily pointy nipples of Amy’s saucy C-cup breasts were clearly visible through
the thin fabric. Contracted and erect beyond their already remarkable natural conicity,
they threatened to rip right through in her excitement. Vaulting over the couch like the
lifelong gymnast that she was, this lithe little bundle of sexual electricity landed
lightly on Steve’s lap. She linked her arms around his neck and immediately locked lips
with him in a devouring smooch that had his penis – delightfully crushed beneath her butt
– straining toward erection in seconds. After a good long minute Amy broke away. She
tossed her gorgeously thick mane of bushy orange curls and gleamed delightedly at him.
	“How would you like a million dollars Stevie?”
	“Who do I have to whack?” he laughed. She laughed right back.
	“No one, silly. I’ll be doing all the whacking!” Amy peeled off another string of
delighted giggles, her eyes twinkling merrily with excitement. Then she started squirming
that excellent ass firmly against Steve’s trapped and raging hard-on. Leaning in even
closer she ground her aroused breasts salaciously against his chest and began nibbling on
and murmuring into his ear – something that never failed to send shivers of lust running
through him.
	“I was just surfing the web – mmmm, mmmm, mmmmmmm…” A pause to nip and nibble, slither
and slather, as Amy drove her nimble little tongue in deep and then out again, around and
around and in and out before continuing. “I was looking for… mmmm… sexy stories and stuff,
when I came across this amazing contest being held. The prize is… mmmm… mmmm… MMMMMM… a
million dollars and our own reality TV show!”
	By this point Steve had his hand up the belling bottom of her flimsy excuse for a shirt.
He was fondling one wonderfully firm breast while worrying the hard, amazingly large
nipple with his thumb. Nevertheless his interest was piqued enough (barely) to keep him
from swiveling Amy around to straddle and ride him right there.
	“What kind of contest?”
	“Come and see!”
	Right away Amy leaped off his lap. She seized his hand and drew him onto his feet and
after her, leading him quickly toward the computer in the den. Hot and bothered and with a
monstrous hard-on jutting his gym shorts ridiculously out, Steve sighed and yet followed
without protest. Amy’s body would always be there for him – that was one of the blessings
of being married. And really, if this episode didn’t end with them in bed (or on the
couch, kitchen table or right up against the wall) he would eat the aforementioned shorts.
As she practically pranced ahead of him his always delightfully sprightly wife at last
deigned to explain. 
	“I was feeling kind of kinky you know: looking for stories on spanking and stuff. Then I
came across this website called Degradatrix.com. 
    “Apparently they’re the biggest publisher of fetish material in the world, and a huge
‘alternate lifestyle advocate’. In any case they’ve just announced a contest to promote
and hopefully mainstream what they call ‘the femdom philosophy’. That’s short for female
domination – you know, the whole whips and chains thing. Anyway, check this out.”
    Still bubbling with vivacity Amy slipped into her desk chair while Steve (agreeably
intrigued) reached around, cupped her breasts and continued thumbing her nipples from
behind. Amy scrolled up a bit, and then started reading aloud while he scanned the screen
along with her.
    
    “‘Offered live on pay-per-view TV and on-line streaming, “A Celebration of Female
Superiority” will feature dominant and submissive couples competing to become this year’s
Mistress Degradatrix and Slave. Open equally to non-professional veteran lifestyle
practitioners or interested initiates, the prize will be one million dollars and a weekly
reality TV show based on the winners’ wonderfully exciting and wholly consensual
relationship. Those interested in competing need only fill out and submit the application
below, from which five lucky couples and five alternates will be selected. 
    “‘Competition will involve four live onstage performances emphasizing each of four
fundamental expressions of the femdom lifestyle: display, restraint, discipline, and
reward. Judging will be based on the scientifically determined level of male arousal
combined with panel votes on female appeal, originality, stamina and suzerainty. This
alternate lifestyle extravaganza will be hosted by the Lady Lash, flamboyant adult film
star and pre-eminent activist in promoting all things kink. The panel of six judges will
consist of other prominent performers and personalities in the fetish industry.’”
	
At last lovely Amy craned around to look up at him, her gleaming regard and even more
brilliant smile instantly defeating any hesitation Steve might have considered.
	“So how about it, baby? Doesn’t it sound like wicked fun? And a million dollars! You
want to be my slave for a day on live TV?”
	“Gorgeous, I’m already your slave. I have been since I first set eyes on you in a
cheerleader outfit. I’d do anything for you, my lady love.”
	“And I you!” Amy declared, bounding back up and spinning to face him. “Starting with
fucking your brains out! But first we ought to practice a bit, in case we get selected.
I’ve never spanked anyone, and I can’t wait to try! Let’s go down to the rec room…”
	In short order Steve found himself naked and bent over their ping-pong table. Just the
tips of his toes retained contact with the floor. His heart was hammering like never
before and his cock throbbed painfully hard as it was squashed between his body and the
unyielding tabletop. Pressing his hotly flushed cheek against that cool surface he
surprised himself by emitting an uncalculated moan. As rampant as his anticipatory
excitement was however – keenly accentuated by a titillating sense of trepidation – it
couldn’t hold a candle to Amy’s unrestrained passion. Still dressed in her tights and
skimpy half-shirt she was goose-fleshed all over and literally quivering with arousal.
Giggling almost constantly as she’d ordered him to strip and assume the position she
wanted, supervising this and clearly delighting in his quick acquiescence and properly
humbled posture, she picked a paddle up off the table and moved eagerly to where her
round-cheeked target waited so obligingly presenting itself.
	“Here we go,” 	Amy giggled again. Then she immediately adopted a mock-stern tone.
“You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you Slave Steven?”
	“Yes, my lady love,” Steve replied, his excitement and unease climbing another thrilling
notch. Getting truly into character in turn, Amy responded immediately.
	“I am your lady love, aren’t I? In fact that will be my stage name for the competition,
providing we get accepted: Lady Love. And if we don’t, it’s what you will call me whenever
we play this particular game. Now then: how have you been naughty?”
	Thinking fast, Steve quickly came up with something.
	“I haven’t brought you flowers since before our wedding. And though I always do my share
of the chores, I’ve never offered to do your share too, so you can have more time to enjoy
yourself. I’m truly sorry Lady Love, and I’ll start doing both regularly.”
	“Good boy!” Amy laughed approvingly. “You’d damn well better too! I’m serious: game or
not, I’m going to hold you to that. But acknowledging your failings and promising to
correct them doesn’t mean you don’t get paddled for committing them. It just means you get
to have sex with me afterwards. Now hold still and take your just desserts like a man!”
	Biting his lower lip, Steve braced himself, once again moaning in helpless upset. He’d
never been spanked in his life – his parents hadn’t believed in it. Now he was to be
beaten with a wooden paddle. Still he remained immensely turned on. But then the first
blow smacked against his ass, and the sudden stinging pain made him cry out unexpectedly.
Seemingly by themselves his hands leaped to rub at his buttocks, but his gorgeous Lady
Love immediately stopped him.
	“Oh no, you don’t! What did I just tell you? You’ve got an extra ten spanks coming for
that. Now, do what I told you: take it like a man and don’t move! In fact, hang on a
second…”
	The paddle clattered onto the table. Craning his neck a bit, Steve saw Amy stripping off
her tights, leaving her naked but for her half-shirt. Then she grabbed his hands and used
the stretchy fabric to tie them tightly together behind his back.
	“There!” she declared. “Maybe now you’ll behave yourself. And keep quiet or I’ll have to
gag you with my shirt!”