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Get your own Free Home PageAunt Margaret was quite pleased with my story and in response to my staying with him Friday night she said, "Actually, you'll be doing me a favor. I was going to ask if you would spend the night with a friend. Sam and I have something special planned and we needed to get rid of you."
I smiled and said I was happy to get out of their way.
As Bryan predicted, we got an 'A' on our report so we had something extra to celebrate on Friday night. We went to a fancy restaurant and then to see a great movie. Even though we both knew we were going to have sex afterwards, it was almost like we forgot about it. Almost but not quite. We sat in the back of the theater and did a little fooling around. There were too many people sitting close by for me to take the blouse off or slip out of my panties but since I wore one of my 'necking and petting' outfits, he could run his hand under the skirt along my bare thigh with an occasional finger stroke on the front of my panties and a small excursion or two under the cloth that kept me literally on the edge of my seat.
When the movie was over we stayed until the end of the credits while the rest of the audience left. When we finally rose he asked if I wanted to go for an ice cream. I kissed him and said, "No. I want to go right to your house."
He grinned and playfully asked why. I leaned into him and said, "I want you to take this naughty girl to your house and spank her for lying to you about Aunt Margaret being home last Wednesday."
He smiled and said, "I was wondering if you remembered that. You really liked it when I spanked you, didn't you?"
I returned his smile and said, "Yes. I also liked what we did afterwards, but I want to make sure I've paid the penalty for lying to you before we do that."
He hugged me close and said, "You don't need to be punished for that. I consider it nothing more than a little while lie that paid off. Besides, I don't want to be the kind of guy who thinks he has a right to discipline you."
I kissed him and asked, "Do you like being the kind of guy who applies his hand numerous times to a willing girl with a bare rear end?"
He smiled again. "Only if it's your rear end and you want me to."
I answered, "Then it's settled. You like to spank me, I like it when you spank me and we're going to your house where we can be alone and you can do the job right. No matter how it turned out, I was a naughty girl who tricked you into her lair under false pretenses and you promised to spank me for it."
I gave him my best pout and added, "I'll be disappointed if you don't."
That got me a sweet kiss but his smile did little to disguise the seriousness of his next comment. "I wonder if you would be quite as disappointed or that bare rear end be so willing if it knew what was in store for it. Wednesday's spanking was OK as far as it went. I wasn't sure how much to give you but since you're asking for another one, I think a longer and harder application of my hand is in order. Do you agree?"
My answer was immediate but the thought processes behind it were lengthy. I had used my (formerly Aunt Margaret's) vibrator extensively Thursday night and his spanking was right out in front of my imaginings. More that that. I mentally compared his efforts with those of my parents. Their spankings were humiliating and painful but with Bryan it was completely different. It was still embarrassing to be over his lap with my bare rear end pointing skyward. As to the primary purpose of my being in that position, his hand did a pretty good job but there was something about it I couldn't fathom at first. Of course it hurt but for some reason I liked it when he spanked me and as the little vibrator brought waves of pleasure I fantasized that he spanked me beyond what actually occurred. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to have him do it again and do it more realistically. This sounds very anti-feminist but I wanted him to be more masculine and spank his woman until he was satisfied. I have to laugh to think I was considering myself to be "his woman" after only one date if you could even call our meeting on Wednesday night a date. So when he brought my latest fantasy out in the open and asked if I agreed to a long and hard spanking from him, I didn't waste any time saying, "Yes."
In fact I even added a little encouragement. "It was starting to sting a bit just before you stopped but I could take a lot more." I giggled as I said, "My very willing bottom will probably complain but it's my head that has the final vote." And then it was my turn to be serious as I finished the thought. "And my head yields the decision of how long and hard I'm spanked to you. So, I'll ask again. Will you ."
I stopped in mid-sentence and stepped away from him. "Oops, I can't say that yet. I have to do something first. I'll meet you in the lobby."
He laughed when I came out of the women's room. As we walked towards the car he said, "What happened to your knee socks?"
I said, "They're in my purse."
He smiled in understanding and waited until we were at the door of the car to ask if they were all I had taken off. We were on the side away from the theater and no one could see us so I put his hand under the back of my skirt so he could feel my bare bottom. As he gave it a little squeeze I pulled my blouse out of my skirt and he didn't need me to guide his hand under it to verify that both parts of my underwear were missing. After a quick kiss he opened the door (like a real gentleman) and I slid into the car. As he got into the driver's seat he asked if I was now ready to repeat my earlier request. I said, "Not yet. I need to take my shoes off first. I couldn't very well walk out of the theater barefoot, could I? Wait a minute."
I got them off and snuggled closer (or as close as I could get while wearing a seat belt) and whispered, "I've got nothing on but my blouse and skirt. You said that's the way you wanted me to be dressed when I asked for my next spanking and now I'm properly attired."
After a moment of silence while he waited in vain for me to continue he said, "So are you going to ask me to spank you or not?"
I coyly answered, "Maybe. I haven't made up my mind yet and you're going to have to be in suspense until we get to your house. Drive."
He chuckled and said, "O.K. Be that way but it's too late. You already asked me when we were in the theater."
I said, "I had all my clothes on so that didn't count."
He smiled as he responded, "We'll see about that later."
It wasn't till the next morning that I found out what he meant but I don't want to get ahead of myself.
I carried my shoes into his house and he transported my overnight bag. I got the whole house tour and was surprised to see a very large bed in his room. He explained that his folks thought he should have one that would be suitable for when he moved out and got married. I don't think they intended for it to be used for two people so soon but there was no doubt it was going to get a good workout before we slept on it. Unfortunately, it was so big there was barely enough space for a chair to fit under his desk. Pulling it out so he could hold me on his lap was out of the question. But he had already figured that out and announced that we should move to the family room. It was the only room I hadn't seen on my "tour". It was nicely decorated and I could see where the coffee table used to be. It was now pushed against one wall and a sturdy chair occupied center stage. Without further ado, he sat down and said, "I'm ready."
This was the start of the moment I had been thinking about for the last two days and I was scared and excited. I could feel myself getting in the mood, so to speak, and I stood next to him. He was looking serious and I was doing my best to look contrite but it didn't work. We both were trying to suppress laughter and it burst out of us simultaneously. Once we regained our composure I was smiling as I started to speak but as the words came out I realized their importance and the time for jocularity was replaced by the reality of what we were going to do. I said, " I've been a naughty girl and I want you to spank me. I reiterate my promise to give you the power to decide when I have been properly spanked. I want you to do it hard and for as long as you think necessary."
He took my hand and held it softly for a moment before gently pulling me forward. The first time I went over his lap my biggest fear was that he would tell me to get up while laughing at me and calling me perverted. Now my biggest fear was that by the time he had me stand up again I would be sporting a very, make that VERY sore rear end. When Aunt Margaret gave me her demonstration spanking I went along with it because of her threat of a long hard session with her hairbrush. The imagined pain of that made me very obedient. I remember shuddering in horror whenever Mom said I was going to get spanked. She used a hairbrush occasionally but more often than not, she was satisfied with an extended application of her hand and believe me, it was quite effective. Now I was voluntarily submitting to the same thing. The thought flashed across my brain that I really didn't know this boy. Sure we had been friends for a long time but was I being stupid to put myself in his control?
I jumped as he put his hand on me and gently rubbed my bottom. He said, "You are absolutely beautiful. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
That was the comfort I needed. I truly felt I could trust him and the thoughts that accompanied my Thursday night frolic came back to me. I wanted to be under his hand and be totally vulnerable to him. My biggest fear just became my fondest hope and I whispered, "Yes."
As I said, his hand was rubbing my rear end but just the part that wasn't covered by the skirt which wasn't very much, covered that is. It rode up pretty high when I went over his knees. I know because I watched myself in the mirror before as I was getting ready for our date. I bent over as if I was on his lap and smiled when I saw how much he would see, especially with no panties to hide anything. Anyway, I had asked him to raise my skirt right away last time and I guess he thought it was a good idea to start that way again. I felt a cool breeze as he exposed the entire target and after another gentle caress, he struck.
Wait a minute. "Struck" may be too strong a word. It was really only a swat but it was more than a gentle tap and it woke me up. Not that I was sleeping or entirely relaxed or anything, but he was reminding me that I was over his lap for a definite purpose and he fully understood his role in the enterprise.
After a dozen or so he said I was just starting to show a little redness and then he began slapping harder. I'm not sure if the panties I was wearing Wednesday really absorbed some of the impact or not. This time I was unequipped with them and that may have been why it hurt more. The other (and more likely) alternative was that he was taking his promise (and my agreement) to give me a more memorable spanking to heart. Whatever the reason, we reached the point of significant sting earlier than before. At least I think so. It's hard to accurately compare spankings in terms of time, number of swats or amount of clothing when your bottom is presently starting to smolder. And mine was. I'm sure this was the point at which he stopped last time, but as I said I can't be positive, and anyway it made no difference. He wasn't done and since I had given my word to accept whatever he choose to deliver, I just hung my head (except when I would jerk it up after a really good swat) and lay passively (except for the involuntary bounces from time to time).
I was getting a spanking that would've made my mother proud. I don't think there was an inch of my bottom that wasn't bright red (or at least felt like it). It was not too long into the spanking when we repeated our Wednesday exchange of "Ouch", " "I'm sorry, did that hurt?", " A little, but it's supposed to. I'm getting a spanking to learn a lesson in manners and it should be one I remember." Cute the way history repeats itself, isn't it. Well, just like our first excursion into this form of foreplay, he took that as encouragement to strike harder and to ignore any future expressions of discomfort I made. In a way, that turned out to have its good side. It seemed more right to be able to give voice to the sting and know he would not stop the spanking. He was doing his part to make this a real spanking and I could play along. Although, I have to say, I didn't have to take any acting lessons to portray a girl who's rear end was on fire. The Ouches and tears were very real. I suppose I could've rolled off his lap if it got too bad and he told me later he would've stopped if I had but I stayed (as best I could) and he continued. I was what you might call a well-spanked young lady by the time he told me to stand.
That simple task was beyond my capabilities so he graciously helped me and as soon as we were both on our feet he hugged me tight. It's funny, during the last portion of the spanking, when it was really hurting, I didn't feel particularly sexy but there was a calmness about me that accepted the spanking as long as it was from him. It hurt as much as any spanking I had gotten from my mother and she also would hug me when it was over but that's all it was, a hug. She never took the rest of my clothes off and I never tried to get her naked as I was trying to do with Bryan. We left a trail of clothes as we pulled each other towards his room and that big bed. My rear was still on fire and in an earlier life I would be trying to rub the sting away and feeling sorry for myself. Not tonight. No way, No how. As soon as I was in his arms all the things that little vibrator got going the night before came gushing out. And I mean gushing. I couldn't wait for him to get the rubber on and plow into me. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long and he was all too happy to oblige.
In keeping with tradition, we started out in the missionary position but then we discovered, as Aunt Margaret said, that there's lots of ways to have intercourse that kept my sore bottom off the mattress. I won't bore you with descriptions of how and how many times we did it but suffice it to say it was a good thing he had more than a couple of condoms available.
In the morning we snuggled for a while and I was surprised that my bottom didn't hurt anymore. It was just a fading memory of how hot and red it had gotten the night before. The sex (without a recently spanked rear end) was pretty good also.
After breakfast, which he cooked, I offered to help clean up but he had other plans. He asked me to put on the underwear I wore to the movie. I said I had fresh things in my overnight bag but he kissed me and said I could put them on after we took a shower because he wanted to do something first. I didn't know what he had in mind but I went along with him even to the point of not asking more questions when he had me complete the outfit with my knee socks and shoes. You will note that I haven't mentioned my skirt and blouse. He didn't want me to put them on and I felt a little silly standing in front of him in only my bra, panties, socks and shoes but if that's what he wanted, that's what I did. Then he let me in on his plan.
He reminded me that I had asked for a spanking while we were still in the movie theater and even I realized that I was supposed to ask for that with nothing but my blouse and skirt covering me. The light was dawning on me as he spoke but in essence, he was asking if he had my permission to spank me again for my oversight. We had both ascertained that my rear had recuperated sufficiently from last night and for my part, the thought of starting the day with a little bottom warming didn't sound like a bad idea so I agreed that I should be punished. But I stressed that I would go along with him as long as it wasn't going to be as severe as the last one. I wanted to save spankings like that for when I had ample time to recover. We had planned on going out most of the day and I was looking forward to it.
He smiled and said, "That's fair. What I have in mind isn't a spanking like that but you will get spanked for six minutes."
I was about to object that a six minute spanking was more than what I had in mind but he explained further. "You won't get all at once. It'll be in six increments of one minute each with five minutes of rest between them."
That seemed like a strange way to go about it but he clarified his sentence (and I mean that in both senses of the word "sentence"), "You asked me to punish and spank you. The two things are not entirely interchangeable. Spanking is punishment but punishment can be more than just a spanking. I remember when my parents spanked me. The actual pain was not the only thing I dreaded. They used to make me stand in the corner before and after the spanking and if I was being seriously punished, I could count on about ten minutes over one lap and then wait in the corner for the next dose over the other lap. I don't intend to punish you that severely but we'll do something similar on a lesser scale. You are now dressed in the clothes you shouldn't have been wearing when you asked me to spank you. I want you to stand in the corner for five minutes and then come to me . You will take off one article and offer it to me with an apology for disregarding my instructions before going over my lap. Save the panties for last but for each "one minute spanking" I will pull them down enough to have access to bare skin. Then back to the corner for another five minutes. We'll repeat the cycle for each shoe, each sock, the bra and then the panties. Six items, six spankings. But look on the bright side. While you're standing with your nose in the corner I'll be cleaning up the breakfast things and making the bed and those are chores you won't have to do. I'll set the timer for five minutes as soon as you're standing there."
He pointed to a convenient corner and it wasn't until I could see nothing but the two while walls that were on either side of me that I realized he had not asked my opinion of his plan. I also realized I already gave it by quietly going right where he wanted me. In no time at all the memories of when Mom sentenced me to "corner time" came flooding back and I was as humiliated as I was back then. But there was that unaccountable difference of doing it because he wanted me to that made me willing to obey. I heard him shuffling around the kitchen and turned my head to see what he was doing. He smiled at me and said, "I guess I didn't make one thing clear. You are to keep your nose in that corner and not look around. In my house that meant an immediate physical reminder that was above and beyond whatever I had already suffered and did nothing to abate what I might still have to come."
I smiled back and replied, "It was the same way for me. I'm sorry, I'll do better."
He still smiled and said, "I know you will but since it seems you already knew the penalty . . ."
He pulled out a chair and sat down. He didn't have to complete his sentence or give me any further orders. I wordlessly moved to his side and got my first taste of his mini-spankings. It didn't hurt all that much but when the timer rang one minute later I was starting to get an understanding of what this punishment entailed. He kept me on his lap while he pulled my panties back to their proper position and then I obediently returned to my corner chastised and very self-conscious.
I said that standing in the aforementioned six items made me feel silly but that was then, and this was now. I can't figure it out. His eyes and hands had explored every inch of me (for which I was very grateful) but now I was embarrassed to have him see me in my underwear. I think I would've preferred it if I was nude but my present mode of dress added to my humiliation and, I have to admit, added to my excitement so it was most appropriate. Which is not to say I was enjoying it. No, it may be exciting to let him discipline me like this but it was still not as much fun as some other things. But as I discovered when he spanked me (three times so far; Wednesday, last night and my recent one minute reminder), it's possible to love and hate the same thing at the same time. Five minutes may not seem like a long time but it was forever until the timer rang and I took off one shoe. I made my apology, went over his lap, had my bottom bared and endured my second one minute spanking which was only the first of my improper clothing reminders.
The time in the corner seemed to get longer and longer and his short (by some standards) spankings got worse and worse. Even though it was agonizing to wait for the next installment, there was never enough time for my bottom to fully recover so that may've added to the effect of his hand coming down on me. He had the kitchen cleaned up by the time I got my socks off so he, the timer and I moved to his bedroom so I could examine the wall (he didn't have an unoccupied corner) while he made the bed. I have to hand it to his mother, she didn't raise her son to be one of those helpless men who don't know how to cook or clean. Anyway, I knew he was finished with that chore before my five minutes were up and I didn't hear anything but I wasn't about to risk an extra spanking to see if he was still in the room. He told me later he was sitting on the bed and watching me and that I was beautiful but that was later, when he told me I mean, at the moment I was being a beautiful girl with a sore bottom in abject humiliation. When the timer rang we returned to the kitchen chair for another "special minute."
But before we could get around to the spanking, we or should I say I had to remove my bra and apologize for wearing it when I first asked him to spank me. It was a typical date outfit bra which opens in the front and comes off easily but what was physically uncomplicated was mentally challenging. This goes back to that business of him having already seen what it covered so what's the big deal but actually, he had never really looked at me in my bra before this morning. I wasn't wearing it when he stripped me after last night's spanking and he was in such a hurry to get his hands on my breasts last Wednesday I don't think he took much, if any, time to notice my underwear or care how it was removed. Now I was standing before him and whereas I would be more than happy to do whatever form of striptease he wished under other circumstances, I was embarrassed to do it as one more preparation for yet another but not the last spanking. I was almost to the point of calling the whole thing off but since I gave him my word I complied but not elegantly. I almost tore it off. Not like we did when we couldn't wait to have sex but more along the lines of "you want me to take the damn thing off and I will but I won't like it". I was the picture of obedient defiance. That's when I received my great enlightenment. I don't think he was surprised but I was when I realized that the nipples I just exposed were pointing straight out and as hard as rocks. I had been so wrapped in glorious self-pity I didn't realize how turned on I was.
I gave him a smile as I made my apology and I was still smiling as I started to bend over him. He was smiling also but it wasn't just a smile. His face seemed to reflect that he knew the "punishment" was going to get me sexually excited and was glad I finally figured it out. He gave each little hard bump a tweak as I settled back into spanking position and he seemed to take a bit longer rubbing my bottom before resetting the timer. My bottom was of the opinion that he didn't spank me with any less force but the rest of me was reveling in the erotic feelings which were getting stronger with each swat.
As I returned to my little corner I couldn't help swaying my rear end provocatively. I think he stayed on the chair for the next five minutes. I didn't hear him move and I weighed the possibility of turning around to check and thus getting a second reminder of how to act during punishment. The way I felt right then an extra spanking or two was almost tempting. The real reason I choose not to was that I knew from the look on his face that as soon as the last portion of my "punishment" was completed we were going straight to his bed and any extra time over his knees would delay that. Now the frustration of the corner time was not in fearful anticipation of another spanking (I was actually looking forward to it) or the mortification I felt by submitting to this childish punishment. That feeling was gone too and I was glad to obey him no matter what he required (within limits, of course but so far, he hadn't even come close to whatever limits they may be).
When the timer rang I was still smiling and my panties were soaking wet. I seductively peeled them off and sashayed to his side. I was making it obvious that I was ready, eager and willing to get this last spanking and that sex was the next thing on the agenda.
There was something extra-special about being totally nude and presenting myself for a spanking. I approached and received each previous mini-spanking silently (except for the required apology) but this time I almost cooed as I said, "I'm sorry I disobeyed you and wore my panties when I asked you to spank me. They're gone now and my bottom is at your disposal. Please spank me again."
He had also refrained from talking the last six times I stood next to him but after my little speech he responded, "It will be my and, I hope, our pleasure."
I nodded to show my agreement with spanking being a mutually pleasurable experience and he gave my nipples a tweak or two (or three or four) as I slowly lowered myself onto his lap. I had felt his excitement under me during each of the previous spankings but it was definitely what Aunt Margaret called a rod of iron poking into me this time. I couldn't wait for that thing to poke into me somewhere else but first things first. His hand confirmed that my bottom was still warm from his previous efforts and my moans of pleasure confirmed my new attitude towards the spanking to come. And what a spanking it was. He varied the swats so I never knew if it was going to be a hard slap or a soft tap and kept the stinging at just the right level. I knew it wasn't a game and I was getting a real spanking but it was not unbearable and when the timer rang for the last time I was more turned on then I could remember.
As soon as I got to my feet I grabbed him and tried to drag him towards his bedroom but he slipped from my grasp and spun me around so I was facing the chair again. He pushed me slightly so I was bent over with my hands on the seat of the chair and told me to open my legs. As I waited in this position I could look under and behind me to see his clothes forming a small pile on the floor and then I heard the unmistakable and most welcome sound of a foil package opening. A moment later I felt his hands on my waist and then the part of him I craved most slid in. What a glorious feeling as he filled me again and again and slammed himself against my sore bottom and . . .
Well, you get the idea. It took awhile but we finally made it to the showers and then out to spend the day together walking hand in hand and being very much in love.
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