Guest blog: Getting spanked with vampire gloves

I am so delighted to welcome Laura Savage (@thatlaurasavage) back to the blog! Last time she was here she shared a joyful, playful, hot story about one of her clients who had a bond villain kink, and the kickass ways she helped him fulfil it. Today, another client, a different kink: one which I’ve always been nervous of yet curious to try. What’s it like getting spanked with vampire gloves? Reading how hot this post is, maybe I should reconsider my nerves…

The first time I got spanked with vampire gloves

Bobby walked into my hotel suite with an impish grin on his face. He was dressed as he usually was – chinos, polo shirt and aviators. I was always happy to see him and this day was no exception.

“I bought something special for you today, little girl,” he said, “I think you’re really going to like it.”

Escorting has its perks, not the least of which is having a backstage look at the sex lives of some of the most buttoned-up, seemingly proper men in your city. I had met Bobby early on in my career. I almost didn’t see him at first.

“I’m a Dom,” he’d told me then, “are you alright with that?”

I’d sighed but responded that I was. Over the course of a few years Bobby became one of the most significant clients – one of the most significant men, really – that I’ve ever known.

I skipped up to him the day he’d brought me a present. He wasn’t one for flowers, chocolates or lingerie. Bobby’s tastes were darker, and I was eager to see what he had for me.

“What did you bring me, Bob? Is it a new puppy?” I teased.

He laughed his standard ebullient chuckle.

You’re the puppy,” he winked. I growled in response and kissed him.

He pulled a small, flat paper bag out of his duffle and handed it to me. I reached inside to find two fine black leather gloves.

The palms were covered in tacks.

“Oh my,” I said, “and these are?”

“Vampire Gloves, want to play with them?”

“Yes, but do they hurt?”

Bobby smiled.

“Only if I want them to. On the bed, get naked. Face down, ass up.”

I had been seeing him for some months by this point and I knew the playful consequences if I didn’t comply immediately. Often I wanted them, even tried to force his hand. This day – curious about those menacing gloves – I obeyed immediately.

He liked to look me over carefully. He always did. I peeked over my shoulder at him to watch him inspecting me. He stretched the leather vampire gloves over his thick fingers, snapping them at the wrist. His palms were now covered in those small, sharp tacks.

“This will feel scratchy at first, then we’ll bring up the intensity. Tell me if it’s too much.”

“I can take it, Bob.”

“You always say that. Play responsibly, little girl.”

Bobby ran one gloved hand up the back of my leg, from my ankle to the lowest curve of my naked ass. He was gentle – he always started out that way. The tacks pulled and scratched my skin. I couldn’t help but moan into it. The sensations are still hard to describe. Energizing yet soothing. Gooseflesh on every bit of skin. Every invisible hair on my body perked up. Every secret part of my body tuned in and ached. Jesus Christ, this was a sensation made for me, specifically.

He took his time. Up one leg, down the other. Over the rise of my ass to the dip of my lower back. I was squirming, giggling. I shit you not, I purred.

“You like this, my dirty little girl?”

My brain was scrambled. It wasn’t that the scratching was painfully intense, just the opposite. So gentle and delicious. I couldn’t speak so I sighed.


I heard his light chuckle again and he spanked me with one gloved hand. I jerked and lifted up my head. No, it didn’t sting more than a normal spanking, but it definitely woke me up.

“Turn over.”

Bobby had this way of holding me. On my back, with him on his side. My right arm pinned under him. My left arm above my head. His fingers tight around my left wrist. My right leg trapped tight between his thighs. I felt safest this way, where I might have felt trapped and exposed had it been a different man.

Held there where I belonged, he traced the front of my body with his gloved hand. My neck first, squeezing so lightly. Just to remind me of who I was to him. I wasn’t ever afraid. He cupped one breast, then the other. He scratched his way down my soft belly to the inside of my thighs. I arched into it and giggled until the giggles softened into moans.

Bobby made his way to my pussy. My breath caught and I tensed. He traced the mound, not cautiously but with confidence. He knew what this would do to me. I moaned and thrashed. It wasn’t to get away but to get more. I needed more.

He cupped me there with one spiked palm. His grip was firm and sure. I melted into him.

“Ah, you are fun to play with, little one,” he whispered, “Dirty, bratty little girl.”

I couldn’t open my eyes but smiled nonetheless. Heaven.

He spanked me there, tacks and all. It didn’t hurt because he didn’t want it to. I jumped and giggled and squealed like a little piglet.

“Oh does that hurt?” Bobby teased.

“What do you think, Robert?” I sassed back.

“Incorrigible brat,” he growled, “let me kiss it and make it better.”


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