The Birthday Paddling: A Haruka and Michiru Story

Michiru was roused that morning to a series of soft, gentle kisses on her face and neck. The turquoise-haired woman’s eyelashes fluttered, and finally opened, revealing her tall, toned lover.

“Mmmmh,” Michiru said hazily as she wrapped her arms around her golden-haired girlfriend’s neck.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Haruka whispered into her ear in the husky voice no woman could resist. “I left your gift on the nightstand.”

Haruka sauntered off into the kitchen, undoubtedly to start brewing a much-needed pot of morning coffee, as Michiru rolled over to examine the contents of the innocent-looking brown paper gift bag.

Michiru stuck her perfectly-manicured fingers into the bag and pulled out a glistening, silver seashell necklace—wrapped around a Purpleheart wood paddle.

The blue-eyed siren carefully unraveled the necklace from the paddle and put it on. She glided over to the mirror, paddle in hand, and gazed at her reflection.

The necklace suited her, as did the oval-shaped, dense paddle. And with her marine-blue satin and lace slip, she looked every bit the Goddess of the Deep Sea.

That is, if the Goddess of the Deep Sea was meant to administer punishments and not save the world.

Michiru bit her bottom lip to stop a smile from forming. Haruka always knew how to make her feel sexy and powerful.

“Love, this is wonderful,” Michiru said as she walked into the kitchen, lightly smacking her fresh new paddle into the palm of her hand. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to try that out?” Haruka asked coyly before taking another sip of her morning coffee.

“But Haruka darling, you haven’t even done anything wrong,” Michiru teased as she pulled her lover close.

“I forgot to take out the trash last night,” Haruka replied with a smirk. “I was late the night before, and I didn’t pay any attention to your lively, enchanting recap of The Bachelorette, episode 9,887,784.”

“One more word and I will spank you until your ass is as purple as this paddle,” the turquoise-haired girl said as she placed both hands on her lover’s cheeks and squeezed tight.

“Please?” Haruka asked with a charming wink. She played it cool, but she was secretly a bit terrified of the thuddy Purpleheart paddle.

The golden-haired racer was used to an open hand, a hairbrush, and the occasional belt, but a thick, hard paddle would provide a more intense sensation.

Michiru led her lover to the bedroom and motioned for her to bend over the bed. Compliant, Haruka did as she was told.

“Slip off your shorts, love,” Michiru said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Haruka said, a bit of a whine in her voice.

“Don’t worry, love, you’ll get your warm up, but I need to test this new toy on you first,” Michiru said as she administered a light smack.

“If it feels too intense at any point, say ‘seashell’,” Michiru told her exposed lover.

“I’m going to feel so silly saying tha–owwwww,” Haruka cried as the paddle smacked the fleshy part of her bottom a second time, harder than the first.

“Are you questioning my command?” Michiru asked teasingly as a third smack landed on Haruka’s bare cheeks.

The third smack left her lover squirming, and the turquoise-haired siren knew that any harder would be too much for her racer.

Michiru opened her nightstand drawer and wrapped her fingers around a solid steel butt plug.

“There are consequences for brattiness,” Michiru purred. “Open wide, love.”

The blue-eyed woman inserted the plug into Haruka’s open mouth and gently tugged on the blonde woman’s hair.

“Good girl,” Michiru said as she re-filled their lube shooter. “Now, spread those cheeks.”

At this point, Haruka knew better than to utter a word in protest. She placed each hand over a cheek and spread them as wide as she could, exposing her tight, pink hole.

Michiru carefully inserted the shooter and pushed. The blonde racer felt the cool sensation of her hole being filled with lube.

The sea goddess removed the plug from her lover’s mouth and slowly pushed it into her asshole. Growing wetter, she watched as Haruka’s hole enveloped the plug.

Michiru pulled her plugged girlfriend up into a sitting position on the bed, and opened her own legs.

“I want you to feel me, Haruka,” she said as she took the taller woman’s fingers and ran them over her pulsating clit.

Haruka rubbed the turquoise-haired woman’s clit, and then ran her fingers down to her opening. One finger slipped in, and then two, and Michiru gyrated in response to the incomparable sensation of her lover’s touch.

Haruka moved her fingers faster and faster, until her blue-eyed lover started to moan in ecstasy. Sweat coated Michiru’s forehead as she fondled her own erect nipples and begged Haruka to go even harder.

Soon enough, Michiru felt her legs tense and experienced the familiar hot, rushing sensation of an orgasm.

After she came, the turquoise-haired woman paused to catch her breath and kissed her lover passionately.

Haruka positioned herself across Michiru’s lap, offering her plugged bottom for a warm up spanking.

Michiru felt her lover’s dripping pussy through her satin nightgown. Well, there goes another gown, she thought as she started to smack with an open hand.

“You’re almost ready,” Michiru said as slaps rained down on Haruka’s bare, plugged bottom. “Your cute little ass is going to be as purple as this paddle when I’m through with you.”

A moan of pleasure escaped Haruka’s lips. Her mind wandered to her first day of kindergarten. Her classmates had drawn tulips, trees, and houses. She had drawn an elaborate spanking scene that had gotten her sent to the principal’s office.

For years after that, Haruka was embarrassed to tell anyone about her most secret longing. That is, until she met Michiru.

“Over the bed,” Michiru commanded. Haruka readily obeyed.

The Purpleheart wood made a hard, thuddy sound as it landed on Haruka’s tender bottom. Michiru wielded it as she did her Deep Aqua Mirror: with expert precision.

It was incredibly intimidating, and incredibly fucking hot.

During brief pauses in her sadistic, repeated smacking of Haruka’s behind, Michiru lovingly rubbed her lover’s tenderest parts.

“This, my love, is my favorite gift,” she said with a particularly harsh smack.

“Glad you like the paddle,” Haruka responded with a wince.

“I meant this. Us. The way we are together,” Michiru clarified with a small chuckle.

“Ah, well, that’s good to hear, because I’m beginning to regret this paddle.”

“But we’re only just getting started, my love,” Michiru responded slyly.

15 minutes later…

Michiru ran her smooth fingers along the marks on Haruka’s bottom. She smiled as she thought of her lover sitting in her car later that day, her bottom red and sore.

Haruka, positioned on all fours on their bed, had her ass raised high like a sacrifice.

Michiru slowly, carefully pulled out the steel plug she had inserted earlier and shot another dose of lube into Haruka’s stretched hole.

The turquoise-haired violinist caught a stray strand and placed it behind her ear. She never felt as hot as she did when she was wearing nothing but a strapon. Her nipples stood erect, and she could feel the dripping wetness between her legs.

“Are you ready for this, love?” Michiru asked, grabbing the fat, black dildo.

“Yes, ma’am,” Haruka responded, ready to take the impending pounding.

Michiru pushed the tip of the dildo into her racer’s asshole, and Haruka let out a soft moan. The sea siren placed her hands on her lover’s hips and carefully pushed the dildo in.

She slapped her lover’s bruised ass and pulled the dildo out. She repeated the pushing and pulling motions, admiring the way her blonde-haired lover could take a paddling and a dildo in one morning.

Haruka moaned and grunted as she felt the long, thick dildo plunge in and out of her asshole. Michiru’s motions grew faster, and she grasped tufts of her racer’s golden locks.

The sea goddess reached upward for her lover’s breasts and pulled her forward. Now on just her knees, Haruka placed her hands over Michiru’s and moved her body along with the motions of the dildo.

“Oh god,” Haruka moaned in pleasure. Michiru traced her fingers along Haruka’s stomach and reached down to massage her racer’s clit.

Haruka felt her entire body pulsating with sensation.

“Fuck,” she cried as her dark blue eyes rolled upward. “I’m going to come!”

Michiru continued to pump and rub until her racer experienced the ecstasy of orgasm. Haruka went limp as she came, and the two fell into bed.

The turquoise-haired violinist gracefully slipped off her strapon and wrapped her legs around her blonde lover. “And you didn’t even have to use the safeword,” she commented as she ran her fingers through the racer’s short hair.

“It’s a testament to your sense of perception, my love,” Haruka whispered.

The racer paused for a second. “But shouldn’t I have given you a birthday spanking?”

Michiru giggled and kissed the taller woman. “Well, I think we’ve just started our own tradition, darling.”

-END-

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Haruka and Michiru’s Long Night

Haruka knew she was in trouble.

Michiru typically reserved her icy glare for Youma and anyone who interrupted her violin practices.

Tonight, however, the stare that could make even the most intimidating, tentacle-ridden monster cower in fear pierced Haruka’s heart.

“Michiru, please,” Haruka begged, imploring her turquoise-haired lover to soften her gaze. But it was no use—the damage had been done.

There had been an invitation. There had been a dark, crowded bar. There had been girls, lots of girls.

But most importantly, there was no Michiru.

“Haruka, if you haven’t noticed already, I’m rather upset with you, love,” Michiru replied, running her long, soft fingers through her racer’s short, golden locks.

The pair made their way to the bedroom of their swanky Tokyo penthouse. As Michiru bit down on Haruka’s lip in a rough but passionate kiss, the racer looked out at the beaming lights of a city that caused almost as much trouble as it offered fame, love, and friendship.

What would she do without Michiru, or this city, or the Youma they fought, or the races that made her feel alive? She didn’t want to think of losing her love, or the life they shared, but guilt racked her mind.

Michiru pulled Haruka close and started to unbutton her shirt. Haruka opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it.

I was tipsy. No, I was more than tipsy—I was drunk. I was flirting with those women at the bar. I couldn’t drive home. The bartender had to call Michiru. She had to end her rehearsal for tomorrow’s performance two hours early. Oh god, what did I do?

“Love, I know that I haven’t been very attentive recently,” Michiru cooed as she ran her pink lips down her lover’s chest and over each nipple.

Haruka could feel herself getting wet. She knew that Michiru would dominate her body and mind from the moment they met years ago. It scared her at first, that someone could rip apart her steely defenses, but it felt natural to her now. Almost like breathing.

“Michiru, I…” Haruka started to speak but her blue-eyed lover put a single finger over her lips and she knew then that talking wouldn’t do her much good.

Still fully clothed, Michiru sat on their bed and motioned for Haruka to join her. She obliged, and Michiru undid her belt buckle with the expert precision of someone who has done this more times than she ought.

Haruka stepped out of her pants and positioned herself across her lover’s lap. Michiru looked down at her racer’s striped briefs, lifted her hand, and smacked down lightly. Haruka, no stranger to this position, moaned and reached for their down comforter to clutch.

“I’ve been at rehearsals almost every evening for the past two weeks,” Michiru said as she rained soft smacks upon her lover’s bottom. “But if you needed attention, love, you could have just told me.”

“I’m sorry, Michiru,” Haruka replied, relieved that her stunning violinist lover couldn’t see her blushing face.

“I know, but I think you need this.”

And of course, the Guardian of the Deep Sea was right about this, as she was about most things.

Michiru gently pulled down her lover’s briefs, exposing her bare bottom. She tried not to giggle as she ran her fingers across her lover’s round backside. To put it bluntly, Haruka had always had a really, really nice ass.

“Haruka, dear, I’m going to need that hairbrush,” Michiru said, pointing to her plain wooden brush on the nightstand next to the bed.

Haruka groaned, but did as she was told.

“Now, darling, I’m going to need you to count out each stroke, up to 100, okay?” Michiru cooed.

“Yes, ma’am,” Haruka responded, resigned to her fate.

The first couple of dozen smacks were enough to turn Haruka’s posterior the color of her blushing face. The next couple of dozen strokes left Haruka reddened and wincing.

Michiru put the brush down momentarily and traced her finger along Haruka’s spine. When she reached the blonde woman’s rear, she took a moment to rub it tenderly.

Haruka smiled as Michiru’s fingers found their way to her lips. She slipped one finger in, and then two and was met with her lover’s wetness.

The racer moaned in pleasure and rubbed her throbbing clit on her lover’s perfectly-pleated skirt.

“Soon, my love,” Michiru laughed gently as she removed her fingers and re-positioned her golden-locked lover.

“48 *smack* 49 *smack* 50 *smack*,” Haruka muttered as the thwacks of the brush grew harder.

Haruka almost never cried, but this was different. The pain of being struck with a hairbrush she could live with, but hurting Michiru caused tears to well in her eyes.

After a good 75 swats, her bottom felt like it was on fire. Haruka clutched the comforter and gritted her teeth.

“76 *SMACK* 77 *SMACK* 78 *SMACK*,” she cried as the brush came down again and again.

“I know this hurts, Haruka, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy this,” Michiru teased knowingly.

The final strokes left Haruka nearly in tears, clutching her lover’s legs. The Guardian of the Heavens, the wielder of the Space Sword, would never allow anyone to see her so vulnerable. Anyone but Michiru.

Finally, it was over. Michiru dropped the brush, righted her lover, and planted a kiss on Haruka’s lips. Haruka smiled coyly and lifted Michiru’s skirt.

“You’re the only woman I’ll ever love, Michiru,” Haruka said as she knelt in front of the seated blue-eyed siren and licked her clit.

Michiru gasped as Haruka’s tongue glided over her most sensitive spots. Her mind wandered to the strapon in her dresser drawer, of Haruka licking and sucking on the black silicone dildo before bending over for Michiru to slip it into her tight asshole.

But for now, Michiru was content to experience the pure ecstasy of having her clit massaged by Haruka’s experienced tongue. Her moaning grew louder, her vision blurred, and her legs began to tense.

This was only the beginning of very long and much-needed night.

A New Year’s Eve Romp, Part II

Abby took a deep breath and pulled open the iron fence guarding the abandoned Williamsburg warehouse with a loud squeeeeak. The frosty January air was making her hands uncomfortably dry. She huffed into her palms and rubbed them together in a feeble attempt at keeping warm.

“Does he have a gun or any weapons that you know of?” Abby asked Matt, shoving her hands deep into her pockets for warmth.

“I mean, he knocked me out pretty quickly, so I didn’t see much,” Matt answered, still disheveled. Abby was just thankful that they were all fully clothed. Just about an hour ago, Sadie’s bearded brother had walked in on them doing the dirty deed on his living room couch.

“Okay. How much did you say was in your wallet?” Abby asked with a sigh. Hunting down criminals in Brooklyn was not how she had intended to spend New Year’s.

The entire situation was incredibly dangerous and Abby knew that she was acting uncharacteristically foolish as she stood outside in the frigid night air hoping to convince a man who could knock the daylights out of Sadie’s 6’3 brother to return the wallet he stole.

“About two grand,” Matt replied, dropping his head. Poseidon the pit bull puppy sat loyally next to his owner, though it would take some time – and a helping of treats – to forgive them all for forcing his paws into dog booties.

“Two grand? Matt, why the hell were you carrying so much cash?” Sadie piped up, her mouth gaping and eyes squinted in anger.

“Drug money, some of it,” he replied, feeling too ashamed to nudge Sadie back when she punched him in the arm. “Rent and food money, most of it.”

“Why do you pay your rent in cash?” Abby asked, perplexed.

“My landlady is kind of a tax evader. I get a great deal on the place, okay? And she’s got a kid who’s in school. It’d fuck up his financial aid if the government knew how much she was raking in every month.”

“Right. Of course,” Abby said, rolling her eyes. Though she’d never actually say it aloud, she couldn’t fault Matt for nabbing a great apartment deal – New York City rent was too damn high.

Meanwhile, Sadie pouted in the background. It was just like Matt to take two grand in cash with him to sleep with a woman he barely knew on a shady street next to a deserted back alley. Of course he would be robbed by the woman’s rabid ex-boyfriend. Of course the first real conversation he’d have with the love of her life would involve drugs, strippers, illegal housing, and theft.

The tall blonde didn’t know whether she was really angry at her older brother’s decisions or the fact that they were so blaringly alike.

Abby banged on the door for the third time. Her rapid pounding could wake the dead, and if anyone was home – as evidenced by the faint flickering of a light inside – they’d surely hear her.

“Abby, maybe we should just go home or call the cops or something,” Sadie urged, eyeing her brunette lover. Even with her pink nose and wild post-sex hair, she was a vision. Sadie just hoped they made it home alive.

“No. I’ve already come all the way out here. And by the time the cops get on the case, this guy will have spent the entire wad on drugs or strippers or both.”

Abby turned to look Sadie in the eye. “Besides. I’m pretty much a martial arts pro.”

“Darling, you haven’t been to a class in two months,” Sadie responded. It was true: The museum had been experiencing record-breaking holiday visits – meaning Abby was spending most of her free time talking about butterflies in the conservatory.

Just as Abby was about to utter a sharp retort, a burly man with an ominous snake tattoo wrapped around his bald head, a stained wife beater, and steel-toe boots yanked the door open and grunted.

“Whaddya want?”

He dropped his cigar to the ground, flattened it in one hard stomp, and glared at the three humans and one canine, who began to feel very small and quite scared. Sadie could feel her brother trembling with fear beside her.

Determined not to break her poker face, Abby glared up at the man for a split second – and then she kicked.

Two hours later:

“Abby, I – I’m impressed,” Sadie told her brunette lover between kisses. It felt so good to be back home in their warm bed.

“Do you think I hurt him?” Abby asked, mildly surprised that she felt concern for the ex-convict who roughed up Sadie’s brother and stole from him.

“Erm…I doubt it,” Sadie replied, her long arms wrapped around Abby’s upper body. Sure, her “martial arts pro” had kicked Tezo in the balls, and the pain and surprise had stopped him in his tracks. Other than that, their encounter – though undoubtedly bizarre – had also been relatively tame.

“I am wondering how you knew he had a daughter?”

“The tattoo on his left arm: 12-22-2005 next to pink baby shoes. I thought he should know that his daughter deserved better than a father who puts his and others’ lives in danger to steal.”

“You’re rather convincing,” Sadie said, snuggling up against Abby, who was comfortably clad in a tee and butterfly-print shorts.

The pair kissed passionately as Zane sat at the foot of the bed looking unimpressed. The Persian cat licked his thick grey mane lazily.

Abby chuckled and looked into her lover’s green eyes, pinning her down by the shoulders. “You know, you can be trouble, Sadie Ann Sawyer.”

“Says the girl who marched up to a criminal and demanded my brother’s money back?”

“You have a point there,” Abby replied. “But let’s not forget why I was forced into that dangerous position in the first place.”

Abby turned her leggy blonde over and pulled down the snowman-print boxers she’d given her as a stocking stuffer on Christmas Day.

Sadie assumed position over her lover’s lap, rubbing her bare clit on Abby’s upper thigh in excitement. Abby slid two fingers into the younger woman’s dampening pussy.

“Someone is aroused, and it’s nearly four in the morning,” Abby cooed and tugged on her lover’s short blonde locks.

She struck Sadie’s posterior with teasingly playful smacks, rubbing her gently between each set of swats. Sadie moaned in response to her lover’s touch and rubbed her pussy harder.

“Not yet, darling,” Abby chided as she continued to swat Sadie’s reddening ass.

“Babe, it’s embarrassing. I don’t want Matt to hear,” Sadie whined.

“Matt is probably fast asleep right now,” Abby said, knowing that it was probably accurate. Later, the two would find out that Matt had indeed been snoring on their ragged old sofa, his feet sticking out of their old comforter and Poseidon loyally resting on the makeshift doggy bed next to him.

Abby pulled Sadie up and into a tender embrace. The brunette woman massaged her lover’s juicy pink bud with her right hand as her left felt Sadie’s hardened nipples under her T-shirt.

“I love you, Sadie,” Abby whispered into her girlfriend’s ear.

“I love you, too, Abbs.”

The two fell back onto the bed in a passionate embrace, limbs entwined and lips locking. Zane surrendered his spot and trotted toward the closet for some peace.

By noon that day, the pair rose to the unexpected sound of a dog barking and bacon sizzling. Unless Tezo had returned to grab breakfast before finishing them off, for the very first time in a long time, Matt had stuck around.

-END-