As said - not done anything for ages, but inspired by my Cariad,Peacock's tat, my windowsill and the birds this is the opening of my latest - It will be a descriptive (hopefully atmospheric)'snippet' rather than a piece with a storyline.
My erotic writing like my erotic fantasies fall into two camps - (1)complex narrative leading to spanking and (2)stand-alone spanking scenario. This is going to be the latter.

Watch the Birdie

She entered the room with trepidation, aware of the soft layers of her garment brushing against her legs as she moved towards the window. The window of the tower was narrow, but the sill was broad enough for her to rest her folded forearms upon it as she knew to her dread and pleasure. It was also of a height that suited his desire and satisfaction as well as affording a view to the garden the birds had made their own.

She knew what she must do as she walked slowly to the window and tried not to look at the elegant slim urn that contained the rods, crops and whips he so treasured. Silently she crossed the small room, her barely faltering gaze on the window belying the wild beating of her terrified and excited heart.

Suzannah bent into the stone recess of the window, her gaze fixedly ahead of her. She placed her arms onto the cool stone and stared into the sunshine of the garden. She wondered at the bigger bird bossily strutting among the smaller usual cheeky visitors. Or rather - she tried to focus on the birds - but she had never lost awareness of the silent presence in the room and her vulnerability to his gaze and other manifestations of his desire as she bent into the recess of the window.

He observed the woman with some satisfaction. His enjoyment of her observations of the bird kingdom would come as would those of uncovering and marking the flesh protected so flimsily by her garments. The angle was perfect. Her bottom at a height that would give him maximum satisfaction as both target to his stern attentions and aesthetic pleasure at her gradual exposure.

Suzannah could not help the slight intake of breath at his approach. He moved silently, but she was as aware of him as she was of the twittering birds trying to decide if the bigger visitor was a threat or otherwise. The sensual pleasure of his approach was as so often undercut with the dread of knowing what was to come.

Quickly, too quickly he was at her side. Feverishly Suzannah watched the larger bird and wondered if it had a mate. He took her firmly in his grasp, his arm reaching over her back and slowly his other hand slid up her calf, then thigh, separating the overlapping points of her gown. She felt the sliding apart of the fine, handkerchief-edged garment and knew that as the folds were separated by his hand, they had parted to reveal her stockings, held in place by their simple garters. As he gazed with satisfaction at the exposed flesh above her stockings she knew that he was already contemplating the moment when the thin protection over her bottom would also be removed for his pleasure and convenience.

She shivered as the petals of material settled around her and the hand that had so carefully parted the nominal respectability of her clothing caressed her thinly clad bottom. And as was his wont, at last he spoke to Suzannah.
“What of the birds, My Lady?”

As his hand strayed over her bottom, Suzannah could not prevent the stab of desire and longing as those fingers hinted at a parting of her willing flesh, despite her knowledge that this was not to be. Her pleasure could only be considered after her Master had dealt with her appropriately and to his satisfaction.

The pause for her response was heavy and there was a stillness as his hand rested on the fine material that still covered her now quivering flesh...