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!"