Fantasy Fiction – The Dirty Thief

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    • #51359
      Susie
      Participant

      This story is inspired by spanking model, Dilan.

      Richard had planned this discrete little raid, knowing that he, now, was in the very privileged position, of being able to visit Dilan. It was to a very personal raid. His thoughts were led by his own dirty little interests, interests that were now focussed on the very lovely and much younger, Dilan.

      Dilan had become a good friend since they had met at a works Christmas party over a year ago. He’d immediately found her attractive. Something in her smile, the dimple on her chin and her bright eyes caught his attention from the moment they sat opposite one another.

      Richard had flattered her with his attentive conversation. He hadn’t tried to talk about himself and he’d encouraged her to share her interests, or at least, the interests she’d been willing to share. She’d talked happily, as the wine and food helped to ease conversation, about her love of music and old movies.

      Some weeks later, after conversation between the two of them grew more frequent, Dilan suggested Richard might like to visit, one Saturday, for a coffee. She’d made it clear that it was, ‘just a coffee’ and that Richard wasn’t to get carried away. She had sensed, since confiding that she made some money as a  spankee model, that his curiosity might be bordering on something less appropriate. She was confident that, when necessary, she could remind him that he was ‘out of his league’. In fact, she felt Richard would be better suited to aspiring to some kind of sissy submission to a dominant than to any aspiration of being fancied by a woman. She suspected he might quite like to find himself in a pair of panties and a pink chastity cage, being paraded in front of an audience of dominant men or women.

      He knew she was beyond his reach. He may have been single but he was nearly 30 years older and he’d never felt, particularly, like any woman found him attractive. Still, he was flattered to be asked and just a little excited.

      That night, as he led alone in bed, he started to think about Dilan again. He found himself getting hard. His hand brushed against the bulbous head of his prick to find the sweet, thick pre-cum that was leaking from it’s tip. As he closed his eyes and imagined what he might do when he had the chance, he couldn’t resist tasting his own arousal. Richard had long taken a perverse pleasure in finding, borrowing, pinching or buying worn panties. Knowing what he might do, when he was allowed to visit Dilan, was overwhelming his mind and feeding his dirty little arousal.

      Time had seemed to drag until Richard’s big day but finally, here he was ringing her bell. Dilan appeared at the door. Richard was immediately hypnotised by her succulent red lips and seduced by her sweet smile. Dilan was wearing red.  Her perfectly curved body stirred something deeply in Richard. In a conforming mini dress, opening to show off her enticing cleavage, it’s cut emphasised the swell of the cream flesh beneath her dress. Dilan was so cute, so adorably like the ideal ‘girl next door’ but simultaneously such a sexually provocative young woman. Oh how Richard wished he lived next door.

      “Good morning Richard”.

      “Morning Dilan”, he replied.

      “You had better come in”, she almost seemed to order him in off the street. Richard began to harden in his pants, his secret sub self just thinking about how he might enjoy being told what to do on a regular, more formal basis, by Dilan.

      Richard did his best to think about something else. Being caught with an erection, he had no hope of using might ensure he was sent away pretty quickly.

      Dilan, always a delightfully polite and thoughtful host, beckoned Richard in. He followed her though to her sitting room and she gestured him towards the sofa. Richard set about making himself comfortable, his heart steadied as he plonked himself down on to the sofa but his fear was tinged with a little excitement and a sense of privilege at being allowed into Dilan’s inner sanctum. Still, the fear of having ‘a scheme’ and a sordid motive for being here played on his mind.

      “Would you like some Tea?” Dilan gently asked.

      “Oh thank you, thank you,” Richard stammered his reply.

      Quickly, Dillon disappeared to the kitchen.

      Richard shuffled anxiously in his seat. Should he make his move yet? Knowing it would never be easy, he decided to take matters in hand.

      “Dilan, can I use your loo?” He called through to the kitchen.

      The sound of tea cups being placed on saucers paused.

      “Yes, it’s up the stairs and on the right.”

      Richard set off up the stairs and found the bathroom. He closed the door and began nosing around. There, beside the towel rail was the laundry basket. Quickly, he set about removing the lid and in no time at all, he had his sweaty hands on a pair of her white cotton panties. Finding the delicately stained crotch, he held the strip of double thickness cotton to his nose and sniffed, deeply. Oh, what a deep, musky, deliciously sexual scent.

      Finding his senses returning, he set about flushing the unused toilet and washing his hands. Stuffing Dilan’s panties into his trouser pocket, he readied himself to return to his host.

      As he made his way back down stairs, Dilan was bringing the tea things through to the lounge on a tray.

      “There you are,” she said, tutting a little. He has seemed to have taken a little while but no matter.

      Richard sat himself down on the sofa and Dilan sat opposite. She brushed back her long hair from her face and crossed her lithe, black stocking clad legs as she began to pour the tea.

      “How do you like your Tea Richard?” She enquired.

      “Just a little milk please, no sugar.”

      Smiling, Dilan passed him a full cup of tea.

      Something startled Richard. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he had just pilfered her panties or perhaps it was seeing pretty Dilan’s sweet smile and that little dimple in her chin. As he took the cup, his hand began to shake and some of the tea spilt on to the floor.

      “I’m so sorry,” he blubbed.

      His anxiety overtook him and Richard stood, intending to offer some help. As he stood, the white panties tumbled out of his pocket, landing on the cushion of the sofa.

      Dilan gasped. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

      “You dirty bastard,” she hissed. “What the fuck!”

      She crossed her arms and rose to her feet. There was only one way to deal with such a pervert.

      “Get your arse over the arm of that sofa you little pervert. And take down those trousers and your pants!” She shouted.

      Richard did as he was told and stretched himself over the sofa.

      Moving to the corner of the room, Dilan opened a cupboard door. Richard could hear a rattling sound and then he saw Dilan return with a long crooked handled cane held between her hands. Flexing the cane, in her extended arms, she strode purposefully towards him.

      “Right you little pervert, you know I am often on the receiving end of this cane. Well, today your going to get a taste of it,” she chided.

      Richard twitched and fidgeted against the arm of the sofa. He found himself starting to leak; a string of pre-cum began to fall from the tip of his cock.

      Picking up her panties from the sofa, she pushed them, roughly, towards Richards nose. She began to grind them against his face.

      “Is this what you wanted you dirty bastard? Hey? Well, you can bloody well smell them now can’t you! Open your mouth you little wimp,” she barked.

      Richard opened his mouth and Dilan shoved in the dirty gusset of her own panties.

      “Shut your mouth and don’t you dare drop them. I’m going to cane you hard. You’ll take 48 strokes in batches of 6. When I’ve finished with you, your ass is going to be on fire.”

      Dilan stood to Richard’s side and raised the cane above her shoulder. With all her might, she swung the cane toward his upturned cheeks. Crack, it landed. Richard’s backside flinched and a tramline of red fire scored his white cheeks.

      The first six stokes were delivered with the finesse of someone who was as capable of delivering as well as taking the cane. Richard was left with six perfectly parallel pairs of red wheals across his firm, round buttocks.

      Richard was beginning to sweat. He held onto the panties between his teeth, the smell of Dilan’s pussy was in his nose and her taste on his tongue. His arse was already on fire. If he had been free to use his mouth for something other than hanging on to her panties, he would have yelled as each cane stroke sliced in to his flesh.

      Dilan warmed to her task. Even though she suspected Richard might be enjoy his punishment, she was determined to humiliate and punish Richard.

      As the last stroke completed the striping of Richard’s posterior, Dilan picked up her phone. Before he could complain, she held the phone up and took a picture. Side on, Richards naked ass was visible and so was his panty stuffed face.

      “Well Richard, you’ve been framed! And tonight, my Twitter friends will be enjoying your picture!”.

      Richard slumped, exhausted, across the sofa. Dilan pulled her panties from his mouth and threw them to the floor.

      “Get out,” she yelled.

      Richard scrabbled to pull up trousers over his sore, scorched cheeks. His head down, unable to look her in the eye, he quietly left.

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