Valentines gift


It was February fourteenth, or as most people know it, Valentines day. I was on my way to my girlfriend’s apartment with no real plans. We had been together for over six years now and while this day had seemed so important in the beginning of our relationship, it had turned into something more comfortable now.
I did not arrive with a bushel of roses, chocolates, tickets for a play and dinner reservations. I had however put on a nice suit and brought a gift. Today we would just spend time together and confirm our love for one another.

When I arrived, I knocked on the door before inserting my key into the keyhole, to give her a bit of a warning of my arrival. I was surprised to see her sitting in the sofa, her hair disheveled and wearing just a dressing gown.
“Oh hey baby, I did not expect you.” She said as I entered the room.
I felt a bit surprised, but confidently placed my gift at the coffee-table beside her. “Happy Valentines day, honey.” I said as I bent down to kiss her.
“Oh my god, is that today?” She exclaimed after our kiss. “I totally forgot!”
I laughed and picked up her gift, it was nothing like her to forget such a thing. “Here, open it.” I said.
She accepted the gift and slowly tore the wrapping paper from the box.
“They’re wonderful!” She exclaimed, discovering the red, ankle-high boots inside.
“Try them on. I’ve still got the receipt so you can trade them if they don’t fit.” I told her.
She did not need me to ask twice, but bent over to pull on her new shoes. I sat down on the footrest in front of her.
“They’re perfect.” She said, walking around, the small heels ticking on the wooden floors. Then she looked at me. “I’m so sorry, I completely forget it was Valentines day and did not get you anything.”
I raised an eyebrow. How could you forget when all the stores were filled with red ribbons and roses to announce this – quite commercial – holiday?
She walked around the sofa she’d been sitting on and promptly bent over its back, placing her hands on the seat. “I feel so guilty, I’ve been such a naughty girl. I think you should punish me.” She said.
I grinned. So she had not forgotten at all, it was just an act. As she bent over right in front of me, her dressing gown gaped open, offering me a view of her bare breasts dangling inside. She seemed not to wear anything at all underneath it.
She had planned it all, I realized. The disheveled look, as if she’d just gotten out of bed; the short dressing gown that barely covered any of her features; the forgotten present; they were all part of it.
This was not the first time she’d asked me for a punishment. I could not count the amount of times I’d had her across my knee or bent over some furniture to spank her bottom, sometimes she asked for it, sometimes she earned it.
Even after all this time though, I was instantly aroused by the prospect of spanking her. I could feel my excitement grow, pushing against its boundaries, pressuring the seams of my trousers.
I got up and rubbed my hands together. “You’re right, you do deserve a good spanking, young lady.”

Read the rest on my new blog: KC Perrin’s short stories

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About K.C. Perrin

Writing a story about a naughty girl is almost as good as having her bare red bum across your knee. View all posts by K.C. Perrin

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