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I met Brett at the usual time and we found a quiet corner to share our lunch hour. We had been friends since I started teaching here and it was hard to believe that was more than eight years ago. I don't know what it was that brought us together, he was devilishly handsome and I'm told I was a pretty good-looking girl but our first dates never ended up in bed. Instead, we fell into a routine of good conversation, playful flirting, and faithful friends to share joys and disasters. He has the look of a distinguished gentleman while I became a well-tailored, mid-thirties maiden professor. Maybe not a maiden in the classical sense. I was and still am open to an occasional dalliance and although not constant, my sex life is not celibate either. In fact, that was the subject of this lunchtime chat.
I had been out on a date the night before with a history professor I thought held some promise. He's a really nice guy and I had no qualms about going to his apartment with him. Talk about a personality change. As soon as we were in the door he wanted sex. His idea of mood music was "Do That To Me One More Time" and foreplay consisted of stripping ourselves as we danced to one song and then right into bed. Still holding out some hope I tried to get him to slow down but quicker than you can say "Come here lover boy" he did. I suppose he was better than my vibrator but not by much. It was embarrassing to say the least and I laughed when I said, "It wasn't a total loss. In fact it was very enlightening. I didn't know a history professor could do anything fast."
Brett joined in chuckling at my misadventures and asked if my paramour spent any time on my breasts. I have two quite ample secondary sex characteristics and sometimes I think that's all men think about. However, I don't want to give you that impression about Brett. To him a comment like that is just polite conversation. His favorite part of a woman is her rear end and his recommendation was that my next date spend a lot more time there. When he first mentioned this years ago I was just a little surprised. He has a fascination with bare bottoms and his idea of getting a female into the mood for sex is the slow unveiling and frequent application of his hand. In his words, a well-spanked woman is a horny woman. His claim is that no female enters his bed without a red bottom or leaves without a big smile. Anyway, I assured him that my dream date did, in fact, fail to see me spanked properly and Brett, as always, offered once again to introduce me to the joys of sex on a sting. And like countless times before, I smiled and declined.
As he went back to his classes and I prepared for mine I couldn't help notice that his suggestion hung around in my head a lot longer than it should. Truth be told, he had gotten me interested and many a vibrator night I thought about what it must be like to give control to a man and let(?) him give me a few good swats while I was helpless and over his knee. Lately it has led to imagining more that just one or two token spanks but a full blown spanking and then I would do anything he commanded. My feminist brain balks at the idea every time I bring it to mind but I have to admit my self-imposed orgasms have been pretty good.
Another thing about Brett, he's loaded. Teaching is his hobby and he does it for free. After amassing a fortune in some computer thing he dropped out of the rat-race and just enjoys the relaxing atmosphere of academia. I'd be willing to bet half of my meager salary that most of the bare bottoms freely offered to his erotic discipline were attached to women who had high hopes of snagging a rich husband but so far, none have been successful in that department. As for me, I don't pay much attention to his wealth except to graciously accept his periodic invitations to some of the best restaurants and shows in town. And they always end up with a friendly kiss at my door. At times like those I regret that we never indulge in a more physical relationship and although we share most everything about our sex lives I've never found the nerve to tell him how close I am to taking him up on his offer to take me over his knee and then to his bed. If I ever thought he was really serious, I'd do it. The other thing that stops me is my fear that once he added me to his long list of conquests, the friendship we had cultivated over the years might be affected and he is worth more to me than a night or two of sex no matter how fantastic it was.
I think that pretty well sums up our association which leads me to the day he announced that he was heading off to London for some sort of conference. Over the years he had explained enough about his work so I could understand most of it and said the conference sounded very interesting and wished I could go. He smiled and asked if I really wanted to go to the meetings or just saw it as a chance to see a foreign country. I remember blushing as I admitted that London always held a special fascination for me and I had been saving for years for a trip there someday. But I quickly added that I could help him by taking notes or carrying his briefcase. Again that wonderful smile and he asked if I was offering anything else besides secretarial services. I knew he was teasing me but I couldn't help trying to get him to take me so I promised to do his shopping or wash his clothes for the rest of his life. I even offered to pay my own way but he shook his head. I sighed in disappointment until he said, "If you are going to work with me I'll pay for everything. See if you can get the dean to give you the time off."
Dean Johnson was a real peach and after shifting a few classes around I was free. I spent hours packing and re-packing and reading every book about England I could find. I was used to him picking me up in a limousine but I wasn't prepared for the special waiting room or the first class section on the plane. I spent about fifteen minutes listening to him laugh at me as I tried to figure out how to work those seats. They adjusted in ways I could hardly imagine. I felt like a little girl at an amusement park and the food didn't come in those little teeny plastic trays. At the airport someone met us and we were through customs in nothing flat but traveling in style like that couldn't possibly compare to the hotel. It was something out of a storybook and extravagance is too small a word to describe it. I admit I was a bit surprised when I found out we were sharing a room but it was actually a suite and we had separate bedrooms. I wanted to take a nap but he made me stay awake saying I'd never get used to the time zone changes otherwise. So after a tad of freshening up we went out to see the town. To all you British folks out there, you have a lovely city. The next day we drove around the countryside and I fell in love with everything I saw. I was in heaven and the conference wasn't as boring as I feared either. Brett waited until I was quite acclimated to the time zone and the life of luxury before he made his move.
We were out shopping for souvenirs and found(?) a little shop that sold paddles and canes. As soon as I saw what they had to offer I volunteered to wait outside but he wouldn't hear of it. It was, he said, only fair since I had made him accompany me on a pilgrimage to Baker Street and then waited patiently while I spent hours drooling over antique jewelry and now he wanted me to see some of the other items that went along with his hobby. Not the teaching hobby but the application of erotic corporal punishment one. In a strange way, it was interesting and I found myself curious about some of the things. He patiently explained their use and demonstrated a few of them on me. Not hard mind you, just a gentle touch or two but enough to embarrass me considerably. If this had been one of those "Adult" stores back home I would've died of shame but the proprietor was a sweet old lady who didn't think a man tapping a paddle or two on his companion's rear end was anything unusual.
After a while I got into the spirit of the joke (or so I thought is was) and would bend over for my playful sample of the cane. We were the only customers so I lost most of my embarrassment but I remember getting flushed whenever he commented that while still properly clothed, my bottom was quite attractive and just made for spanking. I tried to laugh it off and considered it just another example of our normal flirting with each other and even added a few of my own unprofessional comments about his spanking me. After one of them our eyes met and the world stopped for a moment. I realized that I had been getting turned on and as he stared into my soul I knew he could see my middle- class barriers starting to crumble. We had shared many a hug and quite a few kisses during our years together but the gentle way he took my hand and held it was electrifying. As he led me around the store I was seeing each implement in a different light and if the owner of the store wasn't there, I would have gladly let him use one or more of the previously frightening things and then take me as a man who has just spanked a woman should.
We didn't buy anything and walking in the sunlight of the real world was almost a culture shock. It wasn't for a block or two that it dawned on me that he was still holding my hand. Just then a young lady with legs that went forever in a skirt that was little more than a wide belt strolled by. I directed his attention to her and asked if he thought her rear end was suitable for his special attention. He never even looked at her. He just said, "I've already found the bottom I want to spend a lot of time with and when I see it in its natural glory I know I'll be unable to resist the temptation to spank it." I was so flustered that I didn't catch that he said "when" he sees it naked and not "if". Well, I didn't miss the point when he clearly shouted, "I want to spank you tonight in our hotel room and then take you to my bed until morning."
On a college campus you occasionally hear some young man publicly declaring his feelings towards a young woman and everybody just smiles and says, "Isn't young love wonderful." But you don't often hear a mature man standing on a street corner and sharing his sexual intentions with the woman at his side in such a loud voice. However, this was England, the land of spanking and except for a slight smile or two nobody thought his words were out of line aside from for me. If he had whispered it I would have kissed him but I was not used to having my sexuality a matter of public interest so I slapped him and stormed off.
We had to go to a fancy dinner with some of his colleagues and as I stepped out of the shower I was surprised to see him in my room. We hadn't spoken a word to each other since the incident on the street and I wrapped the bathrobe a little tighter as I asked what he wanted. He said, "I want to apologize for embarrassing you like that. It was totally out of line. I hope you're having a good time here. I've thoroughly enjoyed your company and this has been the best trip I've ever had. I meant what I said out there and if you'll forgive me for my outburst, I'd like to kiss you."
Damn him! So good looking, so nice, so much a part of my life I couldn't bear the thought losing him, so.
Wow, what a kiss. I was lost in his embrace and it wasn't until we came up for air that I realized I had lost the robe. As he stepped back to see what he had uncovered I put hands and arms over the important parts and bent to retrieve my robe. I'm not particularly ashamed of my body but felt that when it was naked in a man's presence it was best appreciated with the lights out or under a sheet or two. And there was the fear that when he saw me without my tailored and coordinated outfits he would be disappointed.
I held the robe in front of me and my modesty was restored somewhat but not for long. He very quietly said, "Please. I want to see you. I think you are beautiful."
He thinks I'm beautiful? Really? Part of my brain is inclined to ask him when he last had his eyes examined, but my heart and ego are shouting for my brain to shut up. And since my brain is fighting to get strength back to my weakened knees, I'll try to find some voice long enough to say thank you. Darn, my mouth doesn't seem to be working right either so there was only one thing to do and before my mind could think up any more excuses I opened my fingers and the robe slid to the floor. If you think wondering what to do with your hands when you give a speech is hard, try standing in front of man when you have no clothes on. It was like the first time I had sex. I was embarrassed and excited and afraid and slowly put my arms at my side so he had an unobstructed view. He opened his and I fell into them.
I had never been nude while my partner was still completely dressed and his clothes rubbed against my bare skin. How can I explain it. It felt right and the next kiss left the previous one in the dust. What I wanted right then was to drag him into bed but there was enough rational thought to agree with him when he said, "I want you but we don't have time for more than a quickie and I want my first time with you to be more than that. Tonight, when we get back here I'd like to try this again."
As I picked up the crumpled terrycloth he said, "I saw the way you acted in that shop and I can't get over the feeling that you understand my predilection for spanking more than you realize. I agree that it was rather boorish of me to speak out the way I did but I was serious about wanting to spank you. I've asked this a thousand times and I know you never thought I meant it but I hope you realize now that I'm not kidding. I predicted that when I saw you unclothed I would find the temptation too powerful to resist and I can't. I'm going to spank you."
I was only half kidding as I asked, "When we get back tonight or now?"
The robe was getting very good at falling to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed, held out a hand to me and said, "Both."
Fantasizing about spanking and masturbating at the thought is one thing. Was I really going to go through with it? They may sound like a fun and erotic thing but they also hurt. Would the reality of the pain destroy my fantasies and would my rejection of the practice lose me a friendship I treasured. And even if I liked it, would I just become another one of his conquests? I couldn't live with that but my fear that he would find me unattractive proved to be unfounded and in a way I was already conquered. I felt more naked than just the lack of clothes. Everything was perfect and horrible at the same time. I am or was a competent professional woman and not easily flustered but now I stood with my body, heart and soul on display for him. It was a new and frightening experience.
We had traveled miles from where we were with each other this morning. Could I go the last six feet that separated us now? He knew I was a novice and I counted on his vast experience to help me. That's the only thing that gave me the courage to make my way towards him. I was putting all my trust in him. As I stood next to him I said, "I'm scared."
He took my hand and said, "I know and the fact that you are here like this with me is a gift I will treasure forever. I'll go easy at first and if it gets to be too much say so and I'll stop. Are you ready?"
He held his hand out to me and from somewhere a shaky female voice said, "Yes." I took his hand and held it to my chest for a moment and then bent over him. He was very gentle as he assisted me into a position I had fantasized about but never thought I'd really be in. He let me rest my upper torso on the bed so I wasn't in the classic spanking pose of dangling on either side of him but it didn't make much difference. The part of me that was to be the focus of the next few minutes was very vulnerably available to his hand.
He stroked my bottom and spoke lovingly of it and how much he dreamed of this day. I turned my head and we shared a smile until the first swat arrived. I don't know what I was expecting, well, yes I do. I was readying myself for something much harder and the soft slap was almost soothing as were the next couple of spanks. He lulled me into a sense of relaxation and then I heard the smack a split second before my mind registered the connection between what my ears received and what the other end of me got. That one was serious and as I was trying to reconcile the opposing emotions he delicately stroked me again and said, "A spanking has to hurt a little bit. You're doing fine. We'll work our way up to another one like that." He commenced flicking his hand down on me and it felt like they were a little harder than his first strokes. I felt silly but I asked him if he was actually hitting with more force or if it just felt that way after the stinging slap. He kept his hand coming up and down as he explained, "A little of both. Your skin is getting more sensitive and it's time to warm it up a bit. These are going to get progressively sharper and I'll warn you when I'm ready to give you another solid spank." I actually said, "Thank you" and put my face into the mattress. It was getting warm back there all right and he raised the sting to a pretty good level before saying, "Here it comes." Did it ever. It was a thunderclap echoing off the walls and his hand must have bounced a foot off me after making a short but very impressionable visit.
I think that was the first time I said something that gave him the idea that they really hurt. The next spanks were softer but not by much and it really didn't make a lot of difference. I was really feeling every contact now but when he asked if I wanted him to stop I said, "No." I wasn't looking at him but I know in my heart he was smiling at my response and without warning planted another good one. This was crazy. My rear end was starting to hurt but I didn't want him to stop and felt disappointment when he did. Disappointment that he stopped spanking me? Don't ask me why but this was getting very exciting in a blatantly sexual way. As far as I was concerned we could miss the dinner and he could take care of the fire starting a few inches below his hands present position.
I made such a suggestion but he shook his head. "That is the most tempting offer I've had in years but I have to be there and I want my faithful and very sexy assistant to be with me. Every time I look at you tonight I'm going to be thinking about the delights that await us on our return here. Now I'm going to ask you something very personal. Did you like the spanking?"
I rested my head and thought for a minute. It wasn't as bad as I expected and I felt so safe and secure over his lap the whole time. He said earlier he was going to spank me that evening so I knew what his real question was. Was I willing to let him do it again? And if we did, would I still want to go to bed with him. Damn, the doubts about how this would affect our friendship kept coming back. But hadn't I already made that decision? I guess I had so I said, "Yes but I think I still have a lot to learn and I think I've found the right teacher. I'll be looking back at you and hoping we can leave that dinner as soon as possible."
He stopped the soothing rubbing and said, "I like the idea of you wanting me as much as I want you. Would you mind taking a few more swats now. If you're really not adverse to this kind of foreplay you might find sitting on a sore bottom during the dinner interesting. Every time you try to readjust yourself to find a more comfortable position it will remind you that when we get back here you are going to get a real spanking."
OK, I'm stupid but I said, "Yes" and the next thing I knew he was showing me that he meant it when he said my bottom would be sore during the dinner. Twelve times he delivered that message and I held my tongue but there were the beginnings of tears in my eyes when he scooped me up for our third and best so far kiss. Talk about heat. I was humping against him and doing everything in my power to convince him that a quickie wasn't a bad idea after all. I could feel him through his pants so I knew he got the message but his damn dedication to his profession and his repeated explanations that he wanted our first intercourse to be lengthy and special won out. As he stood in the door about to leave he repeated himself, "My God woman, you are beautiful. Wear something sexy so the agony of waiting is something we can share."
Something sexy? That may be tough. As I stood there with a sore but not unhappy rear end and something leaking down my legs I tried to figure what to wear. I guess "Trying to be sexy" is the operative word here. I can't claim to ever achieve it. I like to look feminine, but I'm not "frilly." Since this was a business trip and I couldn't be sure there would be any dinners other than business dinners or casual dinners in a local pub, I packed accordingly. But then I snuck in something that would work "just in case" I needed something a little more special but still business-like. My black suit. Long, straight skirt that hits mid- calf but has one side slit to just below mid-thigh. The skirt does cup my bottom, but the jacket covers it although I now had the feeling Brett doesn't mind seeing that part of me at all. The jacket has a large satin collar in hot pink that confirms but does not reveal cleavage. A tasteful brooch and matching pearl earrings, black pantyhose which once again reminded me that I had just gotten a fairly good spanking as I squeezed myself into them and to top it off, black 4 inch heel pumps.
As I looked at the finished product I wasn't dissatisfied with the result but I thought about why I was wearing those clothes and felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. Trying to hide my fear of what will happen after the dinner, and trying to contain my great joy that it will.
Brett was drop-dead gorgeous in his tuxedo and made me blush with pride as he said, "I'm going to be the luckiest man there." I coyly responded that I was going to be the squirmiest woman present for more than one reason. He held me close as he warned, "Tonight's spanking is going to be much more that the one in your bedroom. It will be something to remember and then I want you to spend the whole night in my bed and we'll make love until dawn."
He was right about dinner. Every time I moved and felt the small lingering effects of my first experience over a man's knee I couldn't help thinking about the next one still to come. And my parts that were close to but not actually touching the chair were getting more excited with each passing minute. The first time we reached for the pepper and our fingers touched we kept them together for a second and shared a smile. We both understood we had to maintain the appearance of propriety around his colleagues but our hands managed to come together a few more times. As we ate I slipped off one shoe and rubbed his leg. At one point he leaned over, discretely put his hand high on my thigh and whispered, "I want you." I returned the gesture and rested my hand on the evidence that he was telling the truth and said, "Take me. I'm yours. Lets give these folks a show to knock their socks off." We both giggled like school kids and as soon as the dinner was over we excused ourselves and left.
For the first time since our arrival, I snuggled up to him in one of those famous black cabs on the way back to the hotel. I'm sure it wasn't the only occasion where the driver could see two lovers making out in his back seat but I wondered how many women he transported to where they were about to get what Brett predicted and I had no reason to doubt, would be a spanking to remember.
Not caring what the driver saw, I took Brett's hand and put it on my rear end. He rubbed it and quietly asked if that was his also. I put my face next to his ear and as softly as possible replied, "No, it's mine but you can do whatever you want with it."
He kissed me and gave his handhold a little squeeze as he said, "What do you think I should do with this?"
Words that I never thought I'd say left my lips in a whisper. "Spank me."
I don't think the driver heard our conversation but then again, why would it surprise him? This was, after all, England where spanking is a way of life and no one raises an eyebrow about a good healthy bottom warming. I was convinced of that when the man at the front desk took Brett's request for an armless chair to be delivered to our room. The tag on his blazer said his name was Nigel and in his zeal to make sure he understood Brett perfectly asked, "Will you be wanting it for an extra guest at your table or do you want one sturdy enough to hold two people. One sitting and the other over the lap for spanking."
Brett was speechless for the very first time. When he made his intentions to spank me publicly earlier it got him a slap on the face and he was trying to find the words to convey the reason he wanted the chair without embarrassing me and spoiling the rest of the evening. My attitude towards that subject and my best friend had changed a lot in the last few hours so I answered for him. "I'm to be spanked so we will want a sturdy one." In traditional unflappable British decorum, Nigel said he would have one sent up right away. It was humiliating to know that when we walked away he would be staring at my rear end and imagining what it was going to look like before, during and after our use of the chair. That was bad enough but I wanted to crawl under the carpet while he explained some of the other amenities that his hotel made available to their guests. "I hope the young lady will profit from the spanking and may I offer one of our fine collection of canes and paddles."
When Brett shook his head and said he thought he could make a good enough impression with his hand the clerk said, "Very good Sir. I'm sure you know your business but they are available if you change your mind during your stay. All you have to do is call room service and they will supply you with what ever you might need in the line of corrective implements or restraint devices. May I add that the exercise room is open by appointment only after midnight and the vaulting horse is quite a popular resting place for naughty ladies. Straps for keeping her in the proper position and frame of mind are in the brown armoire if you need them. Lets see, it is open tonight from one o'clock until two. Shall I reserve it for you?"
My heart was in my throat as Brett actually seemed to be thinking of taking this man up on his offer but can you imagine, I felt relief when Brett reiterated his desire to spank me with his hand. How about that, relieved that I was only going to get spanked long and hard and not tied to some damned contraption to sample one or more of their `fine collection of canes'. I almost had to chuckle at the clerk's parting wish for us to "Have a pleasant evening." OK, so I'm naughty but I made sure to wiggle my bottom with every step so Nigel could get a good look.
In the elevator, excuse me, the lift, Brett smiled and said, "A paddle wouldn't be a bad idea after all but not tonight. We still have five more days and we might give one a try. And now that I think of it, what would a stay in England be without six of the best in that exercise room." I tried to convince myself that he was just teasing me but I shuddered at the thought. He smiled and put one hand on the behind he was going to spank shortly and gave me a kiss that made my head spin.
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