Drivin' Miss Daisy, Part 1

Excerpted from the book "Confessions of a Gentleman"

by J.G. Wigam circa 1905

Daisy Meltone was the richest widow in the county. Her "Mr." had expired a few years ago and everyone said politely, "He died in her arms." which meant they were in an intimate embrace when Mr. Fred Meltone left this life for this reward on the other side.  Just talking about it brought a delightful flush to the cheeks of the town ladies.

I was introduced to Mrs. Meltone after church my first Sunday in Middleberg and if my eyes were not playing tricks on me I would have thought she was paying great attention to the area of my "privates."

"That certainly is an interesting belt buckle you have there, Mr. Wigam." she noted. I don't know whether I was more relieved than disappointed by her question.

"Why yes, Ma'am. I bought from a Navajo artisan in Arizona."

"Gracious, it must have cost a pretty penny."

"I'll reckon it was substantial, Mrs. Meltone, but I think we should always pay attention to art where we find it and I always say that you have to pay for finer things in life."

"Do you always say that Mr. Wigam." she said coyly as she twirled her parasol. Her smile and fluttering eyelids were almost enough to put me in a faint.

"I must retire to my home now Mr. Wigam." she said sweetly and started to turn.

"May I walk you home, Madame Meltone."

"Certainly. That would be nice..." she said sweetly. We descended the church steps with her hand on my arm. As we walked, making small talk, things seen in passing and the state of the world, her sweet perfumed aura aroused me and I felt myself become erect. I was not sure, but I thought I saw Miss Daisy glance in the direction of my privates more than once, but I dared not think she would do such a thing.  Still, the thought would not pass and by the time we got to her mansion I was in a high state of excitement. Then, I saw her look directly at it and then to me with an expression I could not quite fathom.

"Miss Daisy, please accept my apology and I beg to take my leave I have no excuse, but the great charm of your company."

"Oh Mr. Wigam, be not embarrassed. Having been a married lady I find your "problem" quite becoming. Do come inside. We have something to talk about."

She led me up the long walkway to the mansion once we were through the gate.

"This is a very handsome residence Mrs. Meltone." I said respectfully.

"Thank you Mr. Wigam." she responded as we continued to stroll.

As we reached the stairs she turned and glanced at my continuing, and burgeoning, erection.

"My, but your problem is persistent, Mr. Wigam." She said addressing my tent pole-like penis holding my crotch up as if it were a carnival tent.

"Perhaps I should take my leave, Mrs. Meltone."

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "I think we should have some wine." and she turned to go up the stairs, showing me some leg in the process. I nearly lost control in that moment as her sweet scent enveloped me even more completely.

With heart pounding I followed her into the house and she led me inside to a sitting room facing the garden.

"All of my important conversations have happened in this little room, she commented. "Please take a seat while I get some wine."

"May I be of assistance?"

"In a moment, but for now please be seated, Mr. Wigam." I followed her instruction and sat, gladly concealing my arousal. In a moment she returned with a tray and a chilled bottle of Champaign with two glasses.

"Could you open this while I freshen up? I'll just be a moment." she said as she placed the tray on the table before me.

I took my time with the wire and cork knowing that a lady's "moment" could be ten, 15 or 20 minutes. After removing the bale I gazed out into the garden and it was perfectly groomed with beautiful flowers in sculptured beds.

After some time passed I heard her coming, but her footsteps sounded distinctly different. When she entered the room I could see that she had changed skirts, shoes and stockings. Her pumps were of black patent with very high hour glass heels and her hose was richly embroidered.

"I don't wear these out. Only for entertaining in my home. They're French and too high. My lady friends are quite impressed with them."

"As am I." I said like a schoolboy. "I've never seen such elegant shoes or stockings."

"They're from Paris. I bought them on our last trip, with my late husband." She said as she poured the wine, observing the European tradition of the hostess taking the first glass.

She leaned down to hand me a glass and I was captivated by her cleavage. Just seeing what I could of her breasts inflated my erection to even greater heights and I thought I was on the verge of ejaculation. We sipped our Champaign exchanging glances only.

"Stand up." she ordered sweetly.

"Oh please, Mrs. Melton." I begged.

"No," she responded, "I insist." with a tone I could not ignore. When I stood my penis held my trousers up like a tent pole.

"Gracious!" she exclaimed. Then, she stood saying, "We must do something about that Mr. Wigam.

"What, Mrs. Melton?"

"Come with me and I'll explain..." and she took my arm. Her heels made a most exciting sound on the hardwood and it only seemed to amplify my penal excitement.

"I've been reading the work of Pavlov, the great Russian psychologist who discovered conditioned response."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. You see the problem here is that I have excited you with my accoutrements. Which is as it should be, but you are out of control, Mr. Wigam and we need to condition your response."

"How do you propose to do that, Mrs. Meltone?" I asked.

"What happened when you were bad in school?"

"We were paddled." I said as we approached the bedroom door.

"Precisely, and that is what we need to do now, Mr. Wigam." she said sweetly. "You need to be conditioned and I am going to do that for you."

"I, uh..." I tried to object, but we had entered her elegant bedroom, the setting was impressive and her tone imperative.

"Go over there to that hassock and drop your trousers, Mr. Wigam." she ordered and I did!

She opened a cabinet as I dropped my pants and pulled out a two foot long hardwood school paddle. It was beautifully finished wood.

"Isn't it lovely?" she asked as she showed me the 18 inch "working surface."

"It certainly has a high polish." I noted on seeing the sheen.

"That adds to the sting."

"How do you come to have it?" I asked.

"I was a school teacher before I married Mr. Meltone. And, I used it on him frequently.  It improved his love making considerably." she said as she moved behind me with the board in hand.

"Now bend over and press your hands on the hassock."

Bent over I could only see her elegant pumps and embroidered hose. The heels were more than four inches tall and they were shaped in tall hourglass forms. The leather shone like glass and the patterns in her stockings graced her legs very naturally.

"Now stay down until I'm finished." I started to ask how many swats I was to receive, but: "Oh!" I said as she yanked down my underwear and touched the board to my buttocks in an aiming tap. It felt cold, but that was to change.

"Up on your toes!" she yelled, and I complied. Then she said, "Just remember that mother loves you." and went into a backswing.

WHAP! SPLAT! WHAP! POW! WHAP!

In five seconds I got five of the hardest swats I'd ever felt in my life and the sting was incredible! Tears gushed from my eyes as I yelled, "Agh! Oh God! Please!"

"It's all over." she said. "Now, how is our little friend?"

My dick was totally limp when I stood and she inspected it as if she were examining a sausage.

"There, you see. It works. Now you won't have this problem again."

"Now I would like you to try something for me." Somehow I was of a mind to do anything to please this woman, and she knew it.

"What that be?" I said as I wiped my eyes with a handkerchief she had politely handed me.

"I just love men in high collars.  I'll say you wear a 16-35 shirt."

"As a matter of fact, that is my size."

"Perfect." She said as she opened a drawer and pulled out a fresh white shirt with a very tall, stiff collar. "You'll love this. We bought these in France. They're called Santos Dumonts after the dashing French aviator who made them popular by wearing them everywhere. The collar is silk lined, and very comfortable."

"It doesn't look like it." I said noting the height and wondering how it would feel.

"Now we're not going to have a problem, are we?" she said as she came close with the shirt in hand.

"Now put that on with this tie," she said handing me a red necktie, "and come downstairs. I'll get a few things together in the kitchen."

My butt was throbbing with stinging pain as I pulled off my own shirt, with a low, loose and comfortable collar. The shirt was a perfect fit, but I had to stretch upward to get the stiff collar closed. Still, the interior was very smooth as she said. It felt strange as I turned my head and could hear and feel my neck sliding in the silk tube. I managed to the red tie she had left me tied with a perfect match of lengths so I went downstairs in a state of pride. But, the shooting pains in my buttocks were relentless. The stinging made my rear end feel like it was as big as a washtub. I left the room and headed for the staircase.

I could not lower my gaze to see the stairs without tipping forward, but I made it down the steps in good season and found my way to the sitting room.

"Splendid!" she said on seeing my new decor. "I just love high collars on men."

"I suppose it's only fair. We love high heels on women."

"I know. That's why we wear them. They're very uncomfortable, you know.   But, I find them exciting and wear them often."

"Shall we go for a walk in the garden?" she asked.

"Your wish is my command."

"How's your posterior, Mr. Wigam?" she asked delicately as she presented her hand.

"Stinging like sin." I confessed as she put her hand on my arm.

In a few minutes we were on the brick walk circling through the formal garden. She pointed out the various plants to me, but I found it hard to concentrate on them with my fanny still in flames.

"How long will the stinging last?" I asked.

"Do you remember your school days?"

"Oh Lord!" I exclaimed, "That took days..."

"Well..." she responded, smiled and added, "And, if the treatment doesn't work you'll have to come back for more."

"You really enjoy spanking people don't you." I accused.

"Yes, when it's needed."

"Needed?"

"Oh certainly. Bad boys smoke cigarettes, cheat or say naughty words to girls."

I could not argue that point. Thinking back to my school days, every one of us who got spanked had done something for it. But, then...

"I always wondered why both boys that got into a fight got paddled."

"It takes two to make a fight."

We walked in silence while I contemplated what she said and my throbbing butt. Her heels rang bricks like bells making high-pitched pinging sounds.

"I have something to say..." I opened. "Since you paddled me it's very important to me to please you.  Is that strange?"

"Oh not at all." she chortled as she gripped my arm. "Every boy I ever spanked acted the same way."

"Did you ever spank girls?"

"Rarely, and only privately. Usually after school, in a special room. They would become completely hysterical. I wondered why they were so emotional so I volunteered to be paddled severely once."

"How was it?"

"Oh, terrible. I felt it for a week. I know well what I'm dispensing."

We continued around the circle with her mentioning the names and important features of each plant. Most were just flowers, but a few were herbs for various uses.

"This plant makes a splendid tea for enemas." she said with a teasing smile, adding, "I love to give medicinal enemas. Have you ever had one?"

"Oh," she exclaimed with some delight, "I'll have to make one for you."

"Someday..." I offered in attempt to put it aside.

"Soon." she said sweetly as she turned with the walkway.

"All right..." she said wistfully as we completed the circle and approached the steps.

"Let's go inside and finish our Champaign."

We sat and sipped another glass.

"I want to show you something. Stand up and come around here." she gestured to her side.

"I don't have another problem." I said euphemistically.

"Oh I don't mean that... Come." she repeated the instruction. So, I complied and soon was standing at her side.

"You know how ladies always sit with their feet together?" she asked.

"I had never really noticed." I replied.

"Well, it's a rule we all follow here, but not the ladies of France. Let me show you something." and with that she pulled aside the right side of her skirt which had been overlapping the left to reveal that it was slit in two parts well up her thigh! Then, she crossed her right leg over her left and I gasped.

"Oh my goodness! I have never seen such a thing."

"You mean a lady's leg?" which was a word never used in social intercourse.

"Yes." I gulped. Then she looked right at my crotch and asked:

"Up yet?"

"Miss Daisy!" I exclaimed as my penis rose and she stood up. In her high heels we were virtually eye-to-eye and she came to me.

"I have made a decision." she announced.

"Yes."

"I think we should put that to good use." she said as she put her hand on the lump in my trousers spreading her fingers like a giant spider!

I nearly fell down. She had just paddled me as if I were a bad boy in her class for getting an erection and now she wants to be intimate!

"But," she interjected, "you'll have to agree to a few things...."

"Certainly."

"You must never tell anyone." and I nodded.

"You must be exclusive with me for the duration of our intimacy." to which I nodded again.

"And, you must do what I say, follow all instructions, to the tee." I hesitated as my butt was still throbbing, but agreed.

She then led me upstairs, through the hall and on entering the bedroom closed and locked the door.

"Take off your shoes, socks and trousers, but leave your shirt on." she ordered as she removed her skirt and placed it carefully over the back of a chair. She turned to me and as she approached I could see her shaved labia. My penis was throbbing. She came close and took my member in hand and I started breathing hard.

"Hang on. The best is yet to come." She said as she moved me to the bed. She sat and slid back without removing her pumps.

"I like to have sex in high heels. Do you mind?"

"Oh no!" I said, "It sounds exciting."

"Now come to Daisy." She said as she lay back on the pillow and spread her legs. As I approached on my knees she took me in hand and pulled me into herself. Soon she enveloped me completely. The sensations were amazing, exciting and more.

"Drive, Mr. Wigam, drive!" she yelled as I wrapped myself around her trying to go even deeper. Then, I began to thrust.

"Oh," she moaned, "this is so good for me!"

I explored her vagina with my penis and it was wonderful: Hot slick and slippery. Every thrust was deeper and I could feel our hearts pounding. She grabbed and tickled my testicles with her cold fingers. It only excited me more, "Oh Miss Daisy!" I exclaimed.

"I love it!" she yelled.

Then I opened my eyes and glanced into the dresser mirror. Her legs were aimed skyward with high heels addressing the ceiling as if she were to walk on it. I was so shocked to see her like this, with my ass bouncing into the scene every second, I lost it!

"No!" she exclaimed as I grunted in my moment of ejaculation. "No!" she said again as I pulled out.

In a moment she was on her feet and standing over me.

"This will never do! You make me feel cheap! That is not the way you do a lady. Get up and go to the hassock." and she strutted to the cabinet where she kept her paddle. But this time she pulled out one with ten holes! I had heard of such things in school, but never felt one. I was so ashamed I went to the hassock, bent over it and put my hands on it.

"On your toes!" she ordered as she strutted into view. I could only see her magnificent legs, hose and high heeled patent pumps.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

I got five hard swats in that many heartbeats and the stinging pain was incredible. I could only wail, "Oooohhhh!" in my agony, but I also had an erection!

"Good!" she exclaimed, "You're just like Mortimer. This is how I cured him of this." "And, probably killed him too!" I thought.

She strutted to the wall near the dresser mirror and put the paddle on a peg I had not noticed before.

"Just a reminder." she said pointing to it as I stood gasping and crying with mucous coming from my nose. She grabbed a small handkerchief and wiped my face.

"Now let's finish the job." Soon we were back on the bed and I was back in the saddle again, driving Miss Daisy.

Finally, after the better part of an hour she achieved orgasm and I could feel waves of griping tetany roll the length of her vagina as she drew the last drop of sperm from me.

There is nothing much to tell of the rest of that day, but that I finally served her well and went back to my rooming house a much wiser man. My butt did not stop stinging until near the end of the week. By then I was eager to see her again and accompany her to and from church. I could hardly wait.