I groaned as I answered the phone. I’d only been asleep for 4 hours. I’d been up most the night, way too excited about leaving the next morning to meet a new spanker and too many things to do like making cookies, packing, painting my toenails, and loading the car… no time and no inclination to sleep. Since I didn’t have the money to buy a few nice ‘thank you’ gifts, I’d decided to make a big bowl of chicken salad, potato salad and home made cookies, his favorite – peanut butter. And I’d tried to gather some energy foods like apples and oranges, crackers and cheese, things that took little preparation and nourished yet weren’t heavy so we could eat when hungry without having to leave the cottage and so he’d not have to spend an arm and a leg on meals AND so we’d have the extra time to mix in play and talk and work with all the spanking he had planned. I’d even made a wedge shaped pillow to help me hold position during long heated sessions. Around 4 o’clock AM I’d stumbled to bed freshly showered, every joint in my body screaming in agony from the long hours of preparation, but satisfied that I was ready to leave as soon as I could dress, slap on some makeup and head out. I’d drifted off as the Advil liquigels kicked in and the aches began to diminish with thoughts of spending three and a half days at the beach with this new spanker in languid ecstasy… a great deal of the time with bottom presented. We’d been planning this trip for months and it was finally going to happen.
“Wake up, baby. I need you to be awake,” came his hoarse throaty voice.
I groggily whispered, “I’m awake”.
“I have to cancel the whole damned weekend. My elderly aunt fell and broke her hip and there’s no one else to take care of her,” he’d rushed through the words to get them out.
As hard as I tried not to, I began to cry. My first thought was that I was really very sorry his aunt was injured by a fall and then all I had done to prepare for this meeting began to flash through my mind. He didn’t know the hours and hours I’d spent to ready myself to spend the long weekend with him. He had no idea of the weeks of preparation just to psyche myself up to come to him. I’m really shy by nature and extremely modest, so getting my ‘head’ ready to submit to all the things he had planned for me was not easy. I think all people play ‘what if’ games; what if I won the lottery, what if this or that happened and my life changed over night? And I think many play games with no intention of ever fulfilling their desires. But this wasn’t a game or a dream… and I’d worked hard to prepare to ‘do’ things I’d never done before, to submit in ways I’d never submitted. All of these things can be a bit frightening the first time and it all becomes much different when your fantasies start to become your reality. It takes a toll on you… it’s WORK to prepare. I’d been diligently readying myself… now all for naught. All the plans, the imaginings dissolved in my mind as if someone had sent a pouring rain to splash and run in rivulets down carefully painted water colors, the colors fading instantly, blending and becoming nothing as they flowed down the canvas, all in one instant.
I managed to sob out, “I understand.”
“Baby, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded and then, I guess in irritation with my reaction he’d said he’d talk to me later and hung up leaving me all alone to deal with the disappointment. Men and women think and process information differently. So in his masculine way he’d quickly accepted the circumstances and changed his thoughts to that of taking care of his aunt. He’d done the hard part of telling me about canceling our trip, that behind him it was time in ‘manly’ fashion to move on and take care of things at home. And I guess he never really thought about having family and friends, his work and his aunt to take care of and redirect his thoughts, while I, in a completely different place emotionally, was alone with nothing to think about but the pain of utter disappointment.
The tears flowed for hours. I cried so hard I’d given myself dry heaves. I was a wreck. And the worst part was fighting the belief that I’d gotten exactly what I deserved… nothing. Strange how one can be so hurt they get wrapped up in the emotional pain and begin to crave a physical pain that is stronger… to take their weary, overwhelmed mind off the negative and detrimental thoughts that plague them.
As the realization of dashed hopes settled in I decided ‘fine! I’m all ready for new experiences, I’m prepared to submit, and by damn since you don’t want me I’ll find someone who does’. Oh, I knew he was disappointed too, and that there was no fault or blame… an accident and ‘family’… but all the rationalization in the world didn’t lessen the hurt.
After crying all day I made a decision to go find a distraction. I showered; put on my makeup with extra care deepening all the colors I am usually careful to keep light and natural. Tonight I wanted to look like a slut. I wanted to be completely different than who I am. I wanted to be shockingly outrageous and anyone besides plain old mostly prim and proper ‘me’. I didn’t even want to think about morals or right and wrong or any of the rules to which I held myself. Tonight I wanted to be BAD. I pulled my hair up and back on the left side and pinned it in place with a small clip topped with a black grosgrain ribbon bow.
I dressed with care too. After hooking myself into the black lace bra I slipped into the black lace garter belt I’d never had the guts to wear. I inched the black silk seamed hose up my legs and fastened them in the garters thinking there was something very contrary and sexy about the tiny pink rose bud above each fastener and at mid-waist. I shivered hoping someone would be pulling ‘down’ the black silky panties I was wriggling into place over the garter belt and hose ~ ummm… so much easier to take down or off leaving the black belt and garters to frame the upturned bottom. I liked the effect of the black bra showing through the semi-transparent fine white cotton blouse. Stepping into and pulling up the pleated navy, red, white and black plaid skirt I decided the image I was trying to create was coming together even better than I’d hoped.
As I tied the black string tie into a bow above the hollow at my throat and slipped into the navy blazer I began to feel a bit as if I truly was dressing for class at some prestigious prep school for girls. After scanning the shoes in the rack in my closet, I decided to wear the soft black leather Mary Jane’s. I slipped a few necessities, and most important my invitation, into a small prim black shoulder bag and literally skipped to the car. I was determined to be young and carefree if it killed me. Determination to feel differently about my life and to pretend that everything was just fine began to shove down the disappointment enveloping me. I just wanted to be someone I am not and honestly have no desire to be… but for one night. A night of “pretend everything is okay and that I am a slut”.
Driving toward the club I was really glad I’d not eaten when my stomach began to do that crazy ‘roller coaster’ flutter. The little angel on my shoulder chattered incessantly that I should turn around and go home. I refused to listen. Soon I was pulling into the parking lot of the newly established BDSM club that had opened on the edge of town. I couldn’t help but notice that the parking lot was filled with upscale model cars. And I couldn’t help but notice the nicely leathered butt of some guy as he sauntered through the door either. My hands began to tremble and my breath came in quick gasps. I gripped the steering wheel and admonished myself that I wasn’t some naïve child that I was on a woman with a mission. And as I grabbed my purse, opened the door, and slid out of my seat I said softly but out loud, “you CAN do this!” through gritted teeth and forced myself to walk to the door.
I smiled politely at the doorman as I handed him my invitation. His well fitting tuxedo hinted that the club was sparing no expense in this very private very exclusive new club catering to those with a fascination and desire for a bit kinkier lifestyle. I felt like an imbecile standing there in my ‘school girl outfit’, mortified to my core. The doorman was tall broad shouldered, clean-shaven with an immaculate haircut and nicely manicured nails. He had strong handsome features, and I guessed his age to be around forty-five. The doorman’s voice was rich and smooth like velvet as he welcomed me and discreetly accessed my ‘costume’ and body. It was all I could do not to giggle when I saw the appreciative smile as his eyes traveled back to mine. He cleared his throat and leaned closer to ask if I would be meeting someone. I looked into his Hershey brown eyes, smiled, tilted my head shaking it ever so gently and answered, “no”.
He smiled showing beautiful straight white teeth, “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Justin Colby. If you wouldn’t mind mingling for a few minutes I’d like to show you around. I’ll come find you as soon as the doorman comes back, he should be back shortly.”
I extended my hand as I said, “How do you do, Mr. Colby, I am Meggin, thank you, that would be very nice”, and felt a tingle run down my spine as his strong warm hand wrapped mine in greeting. I smiled as I thought how nice it was that he had a good firm handshake. (So many men don’t! They take just your fingertips and waggle your hand like some disgusting ‘thing’ or take your hand as if they fear breaking it. It amazes me that so many men don’t understand that first impressions are sometimes formed, and lasting impressions sometimes made from a simple handshake.) Justin’s handshake passed with flying colors.
I took a step, turned and said, “I’ll go mingle,” then smiled and added, “and I’ll be waiting”.
I just glimpsed the sexy one-sided smile as I turned away and walked from the reception area into a large softly lit room. Tables for two, four and six were arranged in the center of the room with more than adequate space to move between them offering ‘some’ privacy to those seated around them. Each table held at its center a large flickering candle in a tall crystal holder. As I scanned the room I realized that all the light in the room came from candles, all in sparkling clear crystal, some topping floor standing holders and some in crystal sconces above eye level on the walls. What appeared to be small staged vignettes were centered on each of the four walls. There were also three doors on each side of the staged areas. In a far corner there was a man softly playing classical music on a shiny black baby grand piano. There was a harp standing near the piano, which I thought looked lonely and forlorn, and in the other corner on the far side of the room was a Wurlitzer Jukebox. I got the idea that music would be used to set different moods and wondered about the scheduling of ‘events’ mentioned in the brochure that had come with my invitation.
People were talking and laughing quietly in clusters, some slowly milling about and some seated. It was interesting to note that most of the male guests wore dress casual clothes, outfits ranging from slacks and sport coats to expensive suits, and the women’s outfits ran from tight jeans and halter tops to French maid’s costuming. To my right was a bar so I made my way toward the smiling pony-tailed bartender in a white linen jacket. “May I have a glass of water on the rocks with a twist of lemon, please?” I asked.
“My pleasure,” he replied making quick work of plunking several cubes into a glass and adding a bright yellow strip of lemon peel, then setting it on the bar before me, flashing a smile as he turned to take an order from the man I’d seen entering earlier in the leather pants. It was hard to keep my eyes off his very shapely butt. Watching the muscles bunch and loosen as he walked away brought the tip of my tongue to lick my lips.
I picked up the ‘drink’ and began what I thought would be a slow lap around the room, but just a few steps from the bar I felt a hand grasp my elbow gently and heard that marvelous rich voice say, “See? I told you that it would only be a few minutes and that I’d find you”. He was beside me, sauntering with me toward the piano, close, close enough that I caught a whiff of clean mild citrus cologne. I felt like kicking myself when the thought ran through my mind that I’d rather be at the beach with my spanker and felt my heart sink once again as the disappointment reared its head.
I looked up at Justin, caught his eye and smiled. “Yes, you did,” I whispered feeling a bit shy. “So? Are you a regular visitor here?” I asked softly, wondering what he was ‘into’ and if ‘it’ was something that would be wrong for me… like ‘animals’ or ‘branding’… or that ‘do do’ thing. I was very aware that my desires were rather mild in comparison to the desires of most others who frequented places like this club. Still I figured if my attitude was ‘to each his or her own’ then hopefully I wouldn’t seem too much like a Pollyanna to others.
He grinned and leaned close to my ear to whisper, “Actually I’m the owner, so yes I visit very regularly. What did you come looking for, Meggin?”
The heat of his breath on my ear sent a shiver streaking through me, but his question shocked me. I stopped short, heart racing. Lord, how did I explain what I was looking for? I honestly didn’t understand the emotions coursing through me causing a tension so strong I could feel them physically like monstrous claws. I’d dressed and come racing to this place determined to find someone who would beat the stew out of me… but I knew that desire came from the pain of disappointment and that I really didn’t deserve a beating, I deserved instead to be held and reassured that everything would be okay. Still I had to fight the yearning to be treated like dirt, to be used coldly and roughly by a stranger and then discarded like trash. I swallowed hard and peeked up into Justin’s eyes, lowering my chin quickly. I felt the sting of tears welling in my eyes and turned my face away.
Justin’s arm circled my back and he pulled me just a bit closer. “Come with me,” he said as he walked me to one of the doors near us. Fishing a key out of his pocket he unlocked and opened the door ushering me into the room. After closing and locking the door he turned to grin, raised his eyebrows and said, “master key”, jangling it then slipping it back into his pocket.
I almost gasped. I knew this was a sex club and that at times there would be demonstrations and public displays of different modes of spanking, whipping, flogging, and caning, but I’d never have imagined the room in which I found myself when Justin flipped a switch that lit the soft light of the bedside lamp. The room was about 16 feet square with floral papered walls of hunter green and muted shades of rose and plum on a cream back ground. There was a soft patina on the surface of the antique oak desk against the same wall as the door. Head to the wall at my left sat a queen sized canopied bed with a coverlet of the same floral print as the wallpaper. The wall I faced is the one that had taken my breath. I’d never seen a standing cross except on the computer, nor a spanking bench. And I’d never seen implements displayed artfully on a wall either. I’d never seen a flogger or a cane except in photos on the net. Against the wall to my right was a leather sofa and two leather chairs, one with an ottoman, all cozily grouped for conversation. Down the same wall a bit beyond the sitting area and a door (I assumed led to a bathroom), there was a small brass clothes rack with hangers extending from the wall.
After opening the door and asking me if I needed to use what was indeed a bathroom Justin walked to the sofa, reached out motioning with his hand, “Come sit, Meggin. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong that you looked as though you might faint on me,” he said as he lowered himself into the corner of the sofa.
My chin dropped. I didn’t want to share the pain of my disappointment with anyone, nor did I want to tell anyone my very private thoughts. But I slowly walked to him and sat right beside him where his hand patted the sofa. Before I could wriggle into a comfortable position his left arm wrapped around me pulling me closer as his right hand gently cupped my face lowering my head into the crook of his shoulder. In alarm I tried to pull back, pushing out the words in a rush, “My makeup will ruin your tux, Mr. Colby.”
“It’s just a suit, Meggin, don’t be so concerned. Talk to me. Tell me why you came here, girl,” he admonished gently.
Despite wanting to keep the story to myself, it all came pouring out in a torrent of emotion. I told him about the weeks of planning and the effort I’d put forth to meet my new spanker. And I told him how I’d been feeling. I told him I felt abandoned even though I knew I hadn’t been, that I knew no one was at fault. I even told that I’d simply wanted to ‘do’ something that would totally distract my mind and confessed that with every attempt I’d made it only drove home the realization that I wanted to be at the beach living the fantasies. He listened making soft sounds of understanding, every few minutes his fingertips lifting my chin bringing my eyes to meet his. He made some brief comments, but said very little. Every so often his hand would gently brush from cheek to temple. And I realized after awhile that as I’d become more emotional his arm had tightened and the caresses of his hand had become more firm giving me a sense of security.
When I finished, took a deep breath and sighed. The room was steeped in quiet with the exception of the heart I could hear softly thumping away in my right ear. He held me in silence for what seemed a long time before he cleared his throat and asked, “What did you come looking for, little one?”
I wanted to bury my face in his chest but didn’t want to leave streaks of makeup on his beautiful black jacket. I could feel myself going rigid. I shook my head slightly. “I honestly don’t know,” I breathed the words out on another sigh.
“Yes, you do, girl. Tell me,” he instructed, his voice a bit firmer.
I looked up into those eyes so deep brown they seemed bottomless. “But, Mr. Colby, I know the thoughts that drove my desires… ummm… the ones that brought me here are wrong for me.” My lips began to quiver and I felt that warning sting in my eyes, my chin dropped.
Oh those fingertips were quick to lift my chin up as he peered into my eyes and said firmly, “Tell me.”
Tears welled in my eyes as they dropped from his gaze and I stuttered, “I came looking for someone to beat me, use me and throw me away.”
“Good girl”, he whispered as he brought me close, both his arms wrapping me tightly. I felt him kiss the top of my head before he added, “No, girl you don’t want to be abused. But I do think you need to be taken in hand, don’t you?”
I tentatively nodded my head.
His arm loosened and his right hand slid from my shoulder down my arm to clasp my hand. “Girl, look at me,” he said as his hand tightened on mine.
I lifted my head, brought my chin up and looked into his eyes. I couldn’t keep my eyes on his though they darted down to the right, peeked into his and then lowered again. I felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. God, I was nervous. I whispered, “yes?”
“Meggin, stand up,” he instructed.
I slowly slipped off the sofa and stepped to stand in front of him. My chin lowered, eyes continued to dart. He knew too much. Why had I ever admitted anything? Why hadn’t I lied and said I was just bored and thought I’d check out the club?
He reached to take both of my hands in his. “Meggin, this is the fifth time you have been sent to my office. You’re sassiness with your instructors is out of hand. It seems we have a real behavioral issue to handle. And as your previous spankings haven’t corrected the behavior this spanking will be much more severe.”
My knees began to feel like jell-o and my stomach twisted. My lungs pulled in a deep breath. I didn’t know what to say. My chin dropped lower. Did I want this?
“I’m going to change, and I’ll be back in ten minutes. When I come back in this room, I want you in position over the bed, skirt raised over your back. Do you understand?”
I whispered, “yes.”
“Yes, what?” he growled softly, the words coming from deep in his throat.
“Uhhhh… yes, Sir?” I asked.
“How else would you address the Dean of this school, Meggin?”
“Yes, Mr. Colby?” I blanched.
“Oh, girl you are in for a hiding,” he replied. “You will address me as Sir. Do you understand?”
I whimpered, “Yes, Sir”.
“Remember this, Meggin. Your safe word will be RED called out in succession three times. RED, RED, RED. Calling out your safe word will stop all action. Have you got that?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” I whispered as I nodded.
With that he rose, straightened his attire and left the room with one cursory glance over his shoulder, his eyes searing into me then sliding to the bed. “This side of the bed, Meggin, I want to see your bottom when I open the door”. And he was gone. The door clicked shut.
I waited just a few seconds, went to the door and turned the knob. The door opened, it wasn’t locked. I could leave if I wanted. Did I want this? I began to pace, my mind lecturing about my rash behavior in coming here. And then I berated myself for answering this stranger, telling him things I’d really not even wanted to admit to myself. They’d just been fantasies, hadn’t they? Or was I ready to for this? I knew that time had a way of playing with your mind when you were confused and nervous. The seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes like hours. I felt as if I’d been in this room for a very long time. What was I going to do? I heard a soft sound at the door and rushed to the side of the bed. The position was a bit awkward as I leaned over laying my upper body across the bed. Feet, knees and legs tightly together, the position arched my back raising my bottom high. I grimaced and gripped my skirt sliding it up and over my back. Why hadn’t I worn a slip? I felt myself moisten between my legs. I wondered how long I’d paced, how long it had been since he left and how long I was doomed to stand in this ridiculous position.
It seemed like an eternity before I heard the door open and I was blinded by the thought ‘what if it’s not even him’? I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.
“Good girl.” (Ah, his voice.) I sensed him walking around behind me. I could feel his eyes slipping over my form. His hand coming down just above the small of my back startled me and I jerked in response. Why didn’t he say something? His hand felt hot on my back and much like I would imagine a chunk of lead might feel. His hand began to make small circles. I tensed. “Meggin, I will spank until I see true contrition. We simply cannot tolerate disrespect to our instructors. Do you understand?”
I managed to mumble, “Yes, Sir”.
I felt him move to my left side. His voice was firm, “Spread your legs wide.”
There was no way I could move. I froze. Went rigid. He moved behind me. “Girl, don’t make me start with a paddle on this cold bottom. Do as you are told.”
It felt like I was in mud to my hips as I began to move my feet apart. When they were about shoulder width apart I stopped. I felt cool air swirling between my legs causing a chill to run down my spine.
SMAAAACK! “I said spread your legs wide!”
The place his hand had landed stung like fire. I’d not been prepared and had squealed from the shock. I also spread my legs – wide apart.
He had moved to my side again. “I’ll begin. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Sir”, I whispered.
I was surprised by the quickness of his hand coming down again and again. Each pop overlapped the previous one as he deftly covered my entire bottom. Soon my hips began to squirm. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Over and over his hand came down. It seemed that each time it was a little harder, a little hotter, and a little more intense. I heard myself let out soft moans and grunts and wondered where they came from as my hips began to twist and try to tuck. I could feel myself becoming wet as my pelvis rocked trying to avoid the stinging smacks. The first few slaps to my sit spots brought soft ‘ooohs’. It wasn’t long before both cheeks, my sit spots and high on my thighs stung and from the inside, felt hot. I could hear his breathing deepening as his effort built. Then he stopped.
My body began to relax as his hand slid over the mounds of my cheeks. All too soon the rubbing stopped as he said, “Stand up.”
I slipped my legs together and pushed myself up off the bed. As my back straightened I took a deep breath and sighed. I felt my skirt slide down over my hips and fall back into place.
“Remove your skirt, Meggin,” he said.
My face flamed. I’d thought he was finished. That same crazy twist returned to my stomach. I felt my legs weaken and begin to quiver. Trembling fingers moved to the waist of my skirt and fumbled to undo the button and zipper. When I released it, it fell to the floor. I felt a little queasy as I bent and stepped out of the puddle of skirt on the floor. As I stood I felt my blouse slide to cover my backside and thought ‘thank heaven for long shirt tails’.
His voice came again, “Hang your skirt on the clothes rack”.
I picked up my skirt and walked to the clothes rack. I placed my skirt on the hanger and hooked the hanger in place then turned to face him unmoving as I awaited for his next instruction.
He was pulling the straight-backed chair from the antique desk. He turned the chair into the open space with its back to the desk and sat. He’d exchanged the tuxedo for pleated navy slacks and a long sleeved blue chambrays shirt. At the moment he was rolling up his sleeves. I watched in nervous fascination as he slowly, cuff turn by cuff turn bared strong forearms covered with soft dark hair. I couldn’t help but notice that he had beautiful hands, large and slender, with long straight fingers.
The look on his face was serious, almost sinister as he called me to him. “Come here, Meggin”.
Amazingly, my jell-o legs pushed one foot and then the other until I was standing just off the point of his left knee. “This will be the second portion of your spanking, Meggin,” he informed me in a hushed serious tone, “Over my lap now like a good girl”.
My breath caught in my throat when I noticed the paddle lying on the desk behind him. I dragged my eyes away from the fierce looking wooden paddle to study his lap a moment and then reached out to lower myself across the sharply creased slacks. As soon as my stomach touched down he grasped me, arranging me as he wanted me, head low with my bottom tilted high over his right thigh. “Hands on the floor, girl,” he said as his fingers folded the long shirttail up over my back. “Tut-tut, Meggin. You are out of uniform. We do not allow anything but white cotton underwear under the school uniform. A black bra and panties? This will cost you twenty additional licks.”
I shrieked as I felt his fingers work under my panty legs to cup my cheeks. “Nice and warm, Meggin, just as it should be,” he said then deftly grasped the elastic at my waist and lowered my panties to mid thigh. The warm rush of blood as my head had lowered now flamed in embarrassment. What had I gotten myself into? I reached back trying to stop him but he just chuckled as his hand circled my wrist and pulled it up out of his way. I tried to pull it loose but stopped as his hand came down sharply on my right cheek. ”
OUCH, shit!” I heard myself yelp. The devilish chuckle infuriated me as much as the words when he told me that I’d not felt anything… yet. His hand smacked cheek-to-cheek, top to bottom of globe and then made its way from sit spots to upper thighs. With in moments I was wriggling over his lap trying to evade that peppery hot hand.
“Now you will count the extra twenty for wearing black panties.”
Smack! “One.” Smack! “Ooof, two.” Smack! “Fifteeeeeen.” Smack, “Ohhh, twenty.”
I wanted to rub my bottom so much it brought tears to my eyes. The skin of my bottom and thighs felt hot and parched. It really stung. I almost sighed as his hand began to rub his handy work. His hand felt like fire, increasing the sting rather than weakening it and still I found myself relaxing. As his fingertips grazed my crack and slid to brush my lips by breath caught. God, I wanted him to touch me and I found myself wishing I was the kind of girl that could part my legs in invitation. Then his words brought my eyes open wide, mouth too in silent shock and I heard the old adage, ‘be careful what you wish for because you might just get it’, as what he said hit me, “Spread your knees as far as you can with your panties around your thighs.”
I just couldn’t.
“I’m going to paddle you. Spread your knees! It’s for your good. You won’t be able to tense this sweet ass and that will actually make it easier for you.” He explained in a manner that sounded more like a command.
But my knees simply wouldn’t part. It wasn’t as if I ‘knew’ this guy. I believed him, but I also believed he was a PERVERT. When I heard him threaten, “Part your knees NOW or I’ll call someone in here to hold them apart FOR YOU,” my knees snapped apart making the elastic almost cut into my thighs.
“Good girl,” he almost crooned as he shifted and I heard him add, “I’m going to let go of your hand. Place it on the floor. If you reach back again I’ll have to bind your wrists. We don’t want any broken fingers, do we?”
I growled thinking, ‘okay the fun is over. Time to leave’, but placed my hand on the floor determined to keep it there. ‘No, I didn’t want any broken fingers’. Then my breath sucked in, in a rush as I felt the paddle connect with my sore bottom and blanched from the loud crack that hadn’t completely died away as the next sounded and bit into me. It didn’t take him even ten good licks to have me writhing over his thighs. As the paddle landed again and again my feet began to kick out. Soon the biting sting of his fiery rhythm brought my calves up tight to tuck against my thighs and try to protect my vulnerable bottom. By twenty licks I was crying, the tears dripping off my face. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And I was apologizing for something I’d never really done. Another five SMACKS and I began to plead with him to stop.
I don’t know why it took so long for my brain to register that he had stopped. I went limp, hiccupping and panting as his hand began to rub. A shiver streaked through me as his fingertips grazed sliding in the slick wet between my lips and I gasped. But his hand moved on rubbing as if he’d touched me by accident as my mind screamed, ‘touch me… oh please touch me’. Next thing I knew he’d lifted me, turned me and gathered me into his arms and was dabbing under my eyes with a tissue.
“You’ve been a very good girl, Meggin. So good in fact, I am going to allow you to choose the final portion of your spanking. Which shall it be? The cross or the bench?” he whispered teasingly in my ear. And with those words he brushed the hair back from my damp temples and holding me tightly in his arms for just a moment before ushering me off his lap.
My mouth fell open. Hands reaching back to rub my blistered bottom I stood gaping at him in disbelief. “Ummm, cross or bench?” I asked. “Are you kidding?” And then I though about how I must look standing in front of him panties around my thighs rubbing my butt under the long shirt tail and I felt like a complete fool. My breath caught as a tear slipped down my cheek as I thought, ‘I should be at the beach with my ‘kind’ spanker’. My mouth closed and my chin dropped.
“Meggin! Is this the way you address the Dean?” he growled the question.
“No, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir… I… I… just forgot for a second,” I whined.
“Make your choice.”
I looked to the other side of the room. Both contraptions seemed archaic and cruel. The cross had cuffs attached to each corner. The bench didn’t look much better with its belt straps. Eyes darting back and forth between them, I glared at both as if the position in which I found myself was their fault. I heard him clear his throat and my decision was simply made. I didn’t believe I could stand through whatever was coming. So I whispered, “the bench, Sir”.
“A fine choice girl,” he said and then added, “Remove your clothes, Meggin.”
“But, Sir!” I gasped.
“Remove your clothes!” his direction left no choice as he walked back toward the wall and stood studying the hanging implements at his disposal.
I thought to myself, ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’ and quickly decided to strip at the bed side rather than waddle with panties at half mast to the back of the room; even if that meant I’d have to walk nude from the bed to the bench. I slipped my panties down and stepped out of them. I unhooked the garters and slipped out of my stockings. Garter belt and then blouse followed panties and stockings all neatly folded in a nice stack at the foot of the bed. I turned my back again and unhooked my bra letting it slip off my arms and folded it before I turned to place it like a cherry on top of the small stack of clothing. I realized that I’d been doing everything ‘quickly’ tonight, not allowing myself much chance to really think. And I knew why. If I had taken any time to think, I’d have run home feeling like I had a wide yellow streak down my back. So, this was out of character. The fact was, my life was just about as prim and boring as anyone could imagine. That and I really NEEDED tonight. Hard to admit that miss prim ‘needed’ spanking. The realization came like a lightning bolt, ‘sometimes the hardest person to whom you submit, is yourself’.
Heart thundering in my ears and stomach churning like a spin cycle on a washing machine I lifted my chin and walked regally (if I do say so myself) naked as a jay bird to stand at the edge of bench. I fought to keep my arms loosely at my sides when what I really wanted to do was cover my breasts with one arm and cup my shaved mound with my free hand. I felt the gooseflesh rise on my arms, then cascade down my legs. But I stood like a queen head held high awaiting Justin’s instructions.
He came to me and held out a flogger, “Hold this while we situate you.”
I took the flogger in my hands and was surprised at how soft the many strands were to my touch. I thought it wasn’t as soft as chamois, but close, as Justin cupped my waist and guided me to bend way over the thickly padded leather top of the bench. I quickly shifted the flogger to one hand as he bent first one leg and then the other, placing my knees to the outer edge of the kneeling shelf and buckled them into place. The strap he buckled over my back at my waist was only cold for a few seconds, then warmed to the point I really couldn’t ‘feel’ it. I wriggled a bit to test movement… there wasn’t any play at all. Low in front of me was a wooden bar for grasping. My hands circled it to grip it tightly. Talk about VULNERABLE! My bottom was way in the air, legs spread wide and I was strapped down like a dead deer on the hood of some pickup truck. I almost giggled as an inner voice cried, “hey! No rack, no balls… uhhh, DOE!” Then I did giggle as I realized I ‘did’ indeed have a rack!
“So, Meggin, you think this is funny?” he leaned to scowl in my face.
It got even funnier… I couldn’t answer him. I did try… but this whole night had been so surrealistic and I was so nervous that I was caught in a fit of giggles. Funny how his holding out his hand and instructing I hand him the flogger ended the giggles instantly. I lifted the flogger up to him but he had to wrench it out of my hand, so tightly did my hand grip it. Darned fingers just wouldn’t open.
He walked behind me. The only warning was a soft swish. My legs jerked in the restraints and my head flew up. I’d not have believed that soft thing could leave so many lines of fire if I’d not felt it strike my backside. He raised the flogger back and brought it down with what I knew had to be expertise as it set every inch of my flesh on fire from bottom of tailbone to mid thigh. Over and over the strands stretched out to fan stripes like stinging nettles all over my backside. My body flailed and jerked with each crisscrossing lash. I was still puzzling between lashes about how anything that had felt so soft lying still in my hands could HURT so much on my pore sore derriere. The lashing seemed to rain down forever.
I’d long since ceased to fight hanging limp and accepting as tears flowed. I rallied once, took a deep breath gritting my teeth and was just about to yell out the safe word he’d given me when the lashes changed. He was doing something very different… the flogger was caressing me now.
Oh! Another discovery I’d not have believed unless experienced. The strands of the flogger almost gently wrapped my thighs. Then like many warm fingers the strands fell softly into the separation of my crevice. When Justin changed position and aim the silken fingers curled between my legs gently striking my clitoris. Over and over the tails came down to tease and then caught to slide through my wetness as he pulled them back. Once again he had my body writhing, but this time it was not from pain. The mixture of the heat and sting left behind from the harsh lashes combined with the gentle flicking of my most sensitive places began to drive me into a frenzy. I was so lost in the delightful feeling I whimpered in protest when the lashes stopped and I felt Justin unfastening the binds.
He caught me from behind slipping his hands under my arms and lifted me back against him, steadying me and helping me to stand. I shivered as his hot breath rushed with his whisper into my ear. “I want to give you pleasure now, Meggin. Real pleasure. Will you allow me to pleasure you?”
All I could do was whimper and nod my head back against his neck. Steadying me with one hand he reached to rip the covers down on the bed exposing snow white sheets. He turned me in his arms holding me for a second before laying me down across the center of the bed. His strong hands lifted my legs, placing my heels over his shoulders as he pulled my bottom right to the edge of the bed. When he looked into my eyes there was such tenderness there I had to close mine lest I cry.
His hands slipped to cup the backs of my knees as he pushed my knees back to rest at the outside of my breasts. Then. Oh, God, then he lowered his head between my legs and I felt the tip of his tongue sliding between my lips. My back arched, head grinding back into the bed as the tip of his tongue began to slowly circle my clit after dipping repeatedly into my fountain. I felt my hands clawing at the sheets twisting them as I gripped tightly while holding my breath. Eyes closed I absorbed the exquisite pleasure his tongue was giving. When he instructed me to grip my knees and hold myself open for him my hands slipped to do his bidding. His mumbled words about how sweet I tasted, how good this was, sent streaks of electricity to zap my nipples and race shooting to my core. I didn’t want him to ever stop.
It felt like I was drifting in a sea of heat that pulled me down into it and at the same time lifted me up higher and higher. I had no thoughts other than the intense reaction of my flesh under his tongue. Each sensation rivaled the next as my mind locked on the intensity and depth of the feelings. Justin’s tongue was making me crazy. I heard a deep low sound growing in strength and was surprised by the sound of my own growling. My hands gripped the backs of my knees and pulled them further back and apart, unable to get myself open enough for this man as his tongue lazily circled my throbbing clit and two fingers slipped stroking in the slick wetness of my vagina. I could feel inner muscles contracting trying to hold his fingers deep wanting the wonderful feeling of them sliding along my inner walls, not to stop.
I could hear his breathing coming louder, stronger as his tongue began to flick across my clit. My pelvis lifted to his tongue, pushing closer wanting more. Tongue sliding back and forth across my clit as his fingers slipped into and out of me to push in once again… my back arched as all feeling and sensation began to gather at my core. I felt my body tensing as his tongue began to run up and down my hard aching bud. It almost hurt it felt so good.
Through gritted teeth I groaned, “I’m… I’m… Oh, God… I’m commmmming!” So close was that familiar all encompassing feeling that gathers and then explodes through you making you feel weightless and so free it has to be like what a bird feels when it flies. Then it happened… my whole body began spreading wings to fly… I wanted to leap into the sky higher, higher, higher. A finger pushed into my anus, stretching it, hurting and at the same time feeling intensely good that my entire body began to soar as it began to move in rhythm with tongue and fingers. Gasping and shuddering in climax my thighs clamped tightly against Justin’s head as my hips jerked and bucked in flight. Justin kept on… whispering against my clit, “One more, Meggin… give me one more.” His tongue pressing harder against my clit as it continued it’s stroking, lifting me once again to into that weightless flight. My body jerked and bucked every muscle tense… then once in flight, relaxing as it soared.
I lay exhausted, limp, panting and felt Justin slip up beside me and gather me into his arms. He held me safely, securely as I soared and then finally landed. I felt unsure, confused and very shy as I burrowed into his chest. His voice, gentle now, praising and complimenting me began to push away the confusion.
I lay there in his arms wondering what you say to a stranger who has just given you wings and helped you to fly. It seemed very inadequate as I whispered, “thank you, Justin”, but his arms tightening around me holding me close as he whispered, “No, baby… thank you” was all the reassurance I needed to know that ‘thank you’ was enough.
Once home lying in bed in that deep blue black darkness alone I thought about where I was supposed to be. It still hurt a little to have missed out on the trip to meet my new spanker, but I felt good about stepping outside the confines of my self imposed cage and doing something totally unlike myself. My last conscious thought before I drifted away to sleep was… maybe I’ve never been who I thought I was.