Under His Hand s
Michelle Fox
Copyright 2012. All Rights Reserved.
License Statement
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Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction intended for adults age 18 and over. Minors should stop here and close the book.
All events depicted are fictional. Characters are over the age of 18. Any resemblance to places and persons, living or dead, is unintentional coincidence.
While the author has tried to accurately portray the BDSM lifestyle, please note this story is a fantastical imagining of BDSM. Reality may differ. Don’t try this at home unless you know what you are doing.
Every effort has been made to provide a quality reading experience, but editors and technology are fallible. Please report typos or formatting issues to
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Under His Hands
I settled o nto a stool at the bar and surveyed the Friday night party crowd . Luke had instructed me to arrive at eight a nd to look for a orange shirt and black cowboy hat . We’d exchanged pictures during our months long courtship, but had never met in person. Not until I agreed to his terms.
His demands started with what I should wear; a mini skirt and heel s --the top he left up to my discretion . Plus, I had to do to anything he said or else he would walk. The lat t er had been hard to accept , but I’d fantasized about being spanked for years and Luke seemed worth the risk .
I don’t know why, but the idea turned me on in a way nothing else did. Which was how I’d ended up on FetLife, the Facebook for kink, looking for someone who could make my reality as good as my fantasies. Luke had found me on a group of ‘spankos’ and approached me as a friend . We talked and talked in the beginning, about everything , not just sex. He knew my favorite books and movies as well as what I ’d had for dinner the night before.
In turn, I learned that he’d been into spanking for years, but his last relationship had fizzled when his ex transferred overseas, putt in g him back in the dating game. A nd now he was interested in spanking me. Since we clicked well enough on the phone, I decided to try it his way.
Tonight, I would do whatever he required of me and we would test whether our online chemistry translated to the real world.
“Sara?” asked a masculine voice with a hint of Southern drawl.
Recognizing his accent, I turned and my heart skipped at the sight of him. Luke’s square jaw and close shaven crew cut made it easy to recognize him from the photographs we’d exchanged . His jeans hugged the hard muscles of his thighs a nd his shirt spanned broad shoulders. He looked like he could pick me up and carry me back to his ranch , a m ental picture that sent a little tingle through me.
“Nice to see you in person, Cowboy,” I said using the nickname I’d given him after learning he originally hailed from Texas. His twang was exotic to my Midwestern ears and a major turn-on. I slid off the barstool to give him a hug; we knew each other too well for a mere handshake . His arms folded me into the heat of his body, hands moving to squeeze my ass.
When I stiffened and moved to pull away at the liberty, he gripped me tighter, whispering in my ear, “That’s what this is all about, sugar . Your ass under my hands. If you can’t take this, we’re a no go.” He gave a final squeeze and released me.
I s tepped back, a shy smile on my face. “ I just can’ t believe this is finally happening. ” It had been a shock to feel him in the flesh. An unexpected one, but still very much desired.
“Just so we’re clear, this isn’t just a date,