Naughty Frank Needs a Spank XXX

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By Lauren McAllister

I was trudging back to my dorm, from my last stultifying class of the week. Even the finely manicured, bucolic grounds of the august campus couldn’t wipe away the weariness in my soul. I was 19, goddamit! Aren’t weary souls for old people and Romanian women?

It was Easter weekend and everyone was fucking off home or to some great beach or something but I had this massive paper to write. Three stinking days all alone in creaky old buildings with nothing to do but bang out 35 pages discussing whether “Individual Claims of Privacy Ought to be Valued Above Competing Claims of Social Welfare” or not. Oh, my aching, highly educated head.

By the time I got back to my housing unit, it was almost a ghost town. There was this really creepy sort of vibe walking down that long silent hallway, without the overpowering smell of pot leaking out from every second doorway. Hello, “The Shining!”

I slumped into my room and threw my heavy sack of books down onto the carpet of clothes that was my laundry. Nap time!

That’s when I heard something moving in my closet. I practically shat a Buddhist temple. I’d seen enough slasher movies with my gal pals to realize that I only had another thirty seconds to live but for some reason I did “that thing” that no one in their right mind would do. I opened the closet door to see what was making the noise. Luckily, I didn’t have my esophagus pulled out of my neck with a meat hook (which I believe is customary in these situations). It turns out the noise was being made by a skinny, terrified, geeky looking guy. He was wearing only his underwear (at least, I assume it was his) and had been securely tied to an old wooden chair. I knew instantly what this was all about. It was a gift from the football team. I write most of their papers and exams for them, so they’re really good friends of mine.

They knew I had a real obsession about nerdy boys. I like toying with them. Torturing them…you know, to a point. After all, even us smart girls are apt to fall victim once in a while to our personal prurient peccadilloes. I really need understanding and possibly counseling, not condemnation.

Franklin was 19 but looked about 16. He was thin, wore glasses and was as white as a Winter brothers’ love child. Frankie looked at me with these big pleading eyes and mumbled something through his ball-gag. It was probably “Help” or “Save me!” or some other shit like that.

“Just a minute,” I softly comforted him. Hope of salvation and succor filled his pimply face. I further cheered him with a warm and compassionate smile…and then re-closed the closet door. Searching through my floor finery, I located and donned the flimsiest nightie I could find. This was going to be fun.

“Listen, I know that my friends kidnapped you and tied you up,” I soothingly informed in him. He nodded his head vigorously. “They’re very naughty boys and they shouldn’t have done this very cruel thing.” He continued to agree with me with even more head nodding. “I’m going to give you a choice. A: I will untie you and set you free…” He nodded his head even more vigorously. “Or B: I will suck your cock but you have to do everything I say until Monday.” He stopped nodding his vigorous head to deeply consider my offer.

“I’m going to take off your gag now, and all you need to say is ‘A’ or ‘B’.”

The gag was removed. Silence. I waited patiently. He just kind of stared at me in a frozen state of shock. I smiled in a way that showed off how soft and supple and moist my mouth was. He eventually gave in to the inevitable. “B-b-b- B,” he reluctantly stammered.

“Excellent decision,” I beamed and put the ball-gag back in his mouth. “Well, you just relax and let auntie Alisha work her magic on you.”

I pulled his underwear down to his thighs and stroked his balls with my fingernails. He made this really funny quivery noise and squirted his juice all over my face and hair. Wow! This guy really was a geek.

“maurrrry,” he mumbled.

“Oh, no need to apologize, baby.” I gave his member a few quick licks and a suck, just to give him an idea of what it might have been like if he’d had just a wee bit more self control. He smiled at me sadly around the rubber ball in his mouth. “We’ll try this again a little later, shall we?” I returned his Fruit of the Looms to their original position, closed the closet door and began my essay.

About an hour later Franklin needed to go pee pee. I untied him, except for his hands and led him into the bathroom. He was a little reticent to “let it go” at first. “I’ll aim, you fire,” I told him. Eventually, need outweighed embarrassment and he gave in to sweet relief. I could feel little vibrations in his shaft as the urine rushed through. It was kind of neat. When he was done, I gave it a hearty shake. This caused a “rise” in its profile. “That will have to wait for later, young man. And only if you’re very, very well behaved.”

At seven o’clock I hand fed him dinner and sucked his cock. Frankie lasted a little longer this time…but not appreciably. I dragged my tongue over his lips, nibbled on the end of his nose and headed south towards Penisland. Alas, he made all too familiar noise about three and a half seconds after I took his cock into my mouth. This was quickly followed by rapid-fire squirts of jizz erupting out of the end of his knob. Oh well, at least I didn’t have to go and comb it out of my hair this time. More homework and more pee breaks followed. At midnight, I decided that I’d had enough “Privacy and Social Welfare” for one evening and got Franklin out of his chair and down on his knees in from of me.”

“You’re going to eat me out now. If you don’t do an absolutely dismal job, I will let you sleep at the foot of my bed, but if you don’t make me majorly cum, you sleep on the floor. Got that?”

Frankie nodded his head but no oral offering was forthcoming. He just kind of looked at my moist shaved pie like it was sort of creature from Mars.

“Well, it’s not going to lick itself!” I sighed, grabbing the back of his head and pulling his face into my snatch.

It wasn’t bad. Obviously, he hadn’t spent a lot of his spare time munching away on the cheerleading squad but Franklin was fairly adept at plumbing my vaginal nooks and crannies with his tongue. I tossed out the odd hint to keep me headed towards the “end game” and he managed to readjust his rudimentary technique to my wanton wishes. Soon, I was feeling that erogenous swell. My clitoris felt like it was expanding to the size of a kiddy balloon and my twat started to seriously tighten. That’s when the spasms started. Rich layers of sensual overload flowed up from my pulsating quim and washed over me. My tits started to twitch. It wasn’t the best climax I’d ever had but there’s just something about a tied up naked man eating your growler that gets the juices a-flowing. Well, at least it does with me.

I made him sleep on the floor. You have to give these lads something to shoot for.

In the morning, I fed him breakfast and sucked his cock. He lasted over two minutes this time. A record!

After his après le petit dejeuner reward, I dressed him up in my shortest skirt (sans underwear of course) and ordered him to gather up my laundry. While he was bending over, performing his labors, I noticed that he possessed one of those slim “little boy butts”. Now, I’m not a pedophile, but I do like that kind of innocent derriere on a man. It makes him so…spankable, don’t you think? Once all the clothes were in the hamper, I thought up some minor transgression he’d committed and put him over my knee. Bad, bad Franklin!

I lifted up his/my skirt and exposed that tight, perfectly rounded behind of his and I gave it a substantial smack. Frankie actually cried out a little on the first one (Oooh, this was fun!). I don’t think he expected his punishment to be quite as stingy as it was. It certainly made a nice cracking noise when my palm slapped against his meaty flesh. I was only going to give him six, but I fell in love with the way his tender cheeks jiggled each time a whacked them, so I upped to an even dozen. By the end, they were as pink as Malibu Barbie’s pajamas.

Alas, fun time was over. Down to the basement and the dreaded laundry machines we went. Frankie washed, dried and folded while I typed my essay. I had him urinate into my cupped hands when he had to go. Don’t ask me why, I just thought it might be cool. It was a relatively interesting experience, though I would recommend you stand near a sink, if you decide to try it.

That evening, after he’d finished ironing and putting away my clothes and vacuuming my room, I retied him, fed him and sucked his cock for dessert. Then it was back in the closet till bedtime.

His cunnilingus competency improved immeasurably the second night. It had to. I had a flyswatter and I would whap his ass with it whenever he displeased me…or when I just felt like whapping his ass. As a reward, he got to sleep at my feet, once he’d thoroughly licked them clean.

The essay was coming along quite well. The next day featured a lot of spanking, sucking and peeing. It wasn’t till the Sunday that I realized that young Mr. Franklin hadn’t taken a dump. Where was he keeping it all?

After his lunch and suck, I gave him a half glass full of some laxative that I found in the common room and waited. About thirty minutes on, things were becoming somewhat serious. Frankie did not look at all well and his stomach was making these noises like he had the “The Tasmanian Devil” whirling around in there. It was definitely time to escort him to the stinkiest room in the dorm.

I plopped him down on the toilet. He was almost cross-eyed with a need to drop his bum-bomb but he valiantly held on. Men are so embarrassable, aren’t they?

Now, I had become completely obsessed. This was the last line of man’s dignity and I had to march across it.

“Listen baby, I know you don’t want to take a three day shit in front of a lady but if you let nature take its course, I will let you fuck me tonight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Frankie nodded his head but he looked like he was about to cry.

I stroked his tortured face to lessen his anal angst. “You’re a little shy about performing this bodily function in front of me, I realize that, but it has to be done. I tell you what…” I lifted up my skirt and shoved my pussy into his face. “You eat me out and that will help take your mind of it. And just think, in a few hours you’ll be able to stick your big (I was exaggerating) fat cock up into those wet swollen lips that you’re licking. Mmmm.”

Franklin let out a big grunt that echoed up my vaginal canal and then plotzed like a runaway train. It poured out of him. I leaned over and flushed a couple of times to prevent his emissions from overflowing the sides of the bowl. He continued to let out these painful wails and his sphincter-centric suffering appeared to be on a biblical scale. I have not idea why I thought this was so, so hot but I did. I almost came.

When he’d finally finished “doing his business” he started to cry into my salad bar. I picked him up off the toilet. “There, there baby. No reason to be upset. Mommy is going to clean you all up.” I took off all my clothes and led him into one of the shower stalls. Within seconds I had Franklin soaped up like a bubbly ghost and he was beginning to calm down. “Let mommy take care of everything, sweetie,” I said, stroking his sudsy erection. He’d had a boner since I took my top off. Sure men can be humiliated beyond words, but you show them a happenin’ pair of titties and…well, they’re men.

I paid special attention to his derriere. You could have eaten your dinner off it, after I’d finished. To prove it, I got down on my knees and tongued his little pucker hole for about five minutes. He seemed to be getting over his trauma nicely. I spun Franklin round and stared up at him. “Would you like mommy to suck your cock to make everything all better?”

He nodded in the affirmative and I gave him the best blowjob of my life. I licked and sucked and slurped on that thing like I was Oprah Winfrey eating a churo. Frankie started to moan (but not like the ones when he was taking a giant shit). If his hands weren’t tied behind his back, I’m sure who would have grabbed my head and started to fuck my mouth. I began to tickle his nutsack like it was a kitties chin. His wang gave a couple of pre-cum twitches and then he exploded into my head cavity. This was way more jizz that I had ever sucked out of him before. His knees began to wobble and he collapsed on top of me. Just to be nice, I let him rub his wet body against mine for a couple of minutes. He really seemed to like that. Then I gave him a thorough spanking for being such a clumsy boy, dried him off and put him back in my closet (I didn’t want Franklin to think I was turning into a softie.).

At 9:15 that evening, I typed the last period on the paper from hell and turned off my computer. It was glorious. Time to celebrate. I pulled a bottle of wine out of my bedside cupboard and Franklin out of the closet. This was going to be his big night so I gave him a nice handjob in the hopes that it would retard his cum cannon when it came to main event.

I fed him and then gave him a little wine. His mood betrayed a certain amount of anxiety. My guess is; this was going to be his first time. I put on some mood music and seductively took off my clothes in front of him. He actually gulped. I rubbed my tits all over with my hands and then I brushed them against his face, knocking his glasses off. I poked my nipples into his eye sockets (gently, of course) and mouth and ground my dewy swollen hoo-haw against his chest. Yes indeedy, mama was in the mood for a righteous shag!

I lay Frankie down on the bed and tied his hands to the headboard. Old habits die hard, so I pulled out my fly swatter and smacked his gonads a few times and told him he’d better be a good fuck or there would be severe consequences. He let go a nervous fart. Ooop! Had I gone too far? I gave his cock a few quick sucks and that seem to calm him down a little.

I thought it might be wise to allow myself a small head start in the orgasmic proceedings (just in case) and started to massage my tender tumescent tingle tunnel about an inch from his nose. When my naughtiest part was sufficiently ripe and wet, I wiped two fingers covered in my sticky cunt honey across his cheeks and lips.

Needless to say, his boner was fully inflated and waiting at the ready to be mounted. Or so I thought.

Feeling that the time was nigh, I slithered down towards his joy stick. I had his throbbing tool in my hand was just about to pop it inside me when I had a thought. “You’re one lucky son of a bitch, you know that?”

Franklin also had a thought. Suddenly, he slipped his wrists out of his tethers. I guess they weren’t tied as securely as I thought. With the moves and the strength of a college wrestler (lightweight division), he spun me around onto my back and plopped down on top of me. Frankie grabbed my wrists and held them tight above my head. “Yes I am,” he informed me and stuck his tongue into my mouth and his cock up into my snatch. From there, he proceeded to give me a fairly competent and spirited humping. My tits were his. My vagina was his. My mouth was his. And he availed himself of all of it. If he’d wanted to flip me over and bang me up the fudge cupboard, I would’ve let him. For a very brief time, I was being “owned” and I liked it. I could feel my tits sway up and down on my chest as he rammed his Johnson into me. My feet were up in the air and my legs were spread wide. My hands were still held tight above my head and my pud was taking an outrageous penis pounding. I could feel myself starting to tighten around his wad. Oh my God, I was going to cum! As I got closer, my self control waned. I started to moan and grunt. I may have used to lord’s name in vain a few times. And that was before I started screaming, “Fuck me! Fuck me!” in a rather unladylike manner. Massive pulsations of delicious cumming rippled up from between my legs and set my senses on fire. If my hands had been free, I would have grabbed a hold of that little boy’s ass of his and pulled him further inside me till he got caught in my throat. I was bucking up and down like a maniac and Frankie was riding out the storm like a champ. Just as my own climax was beginning to calm down, he let out a loud “Oof” and started to fill up my girlie canal with his hot gooey spunk. Ah, that magical instant when the charms of all that is feminine brings forth the fruit of a man’s ardor in torrents and gushes.

I woke up in this morning with my head on Franklin’s shoulder. It was kind of nice. After he’d had a quick bite to eat, he donned some of my most masculine clothes, kissed me on the forehead and left. I’m actually going to miss the little geek.

Now, I just have to wait for someone to come and untie me from this goddamn bed so I can get dressed. I’ve got a paper to deliver!

Copyright 2014 Lauren McAllister

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2 Comments

  1. Elijah said,

    August 8, 2016 at 9:21 am

    Lauren, I want to play out one of these scenarios with you in real life! Your mind is so hot! What is your writing process? Your command of language is exceptional! My literary boner is raging for you! Cheers, keep blowing our minds! 😉

    • Lauren McAllister said,

      August 30, 2016 at 3:50 am

      You are so kind. I just write what toggles my switch. If I get all frothy over it, I’m guessing other people will.

      lauren


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