Jackie

Jackie was a trust fund kid, spoiled rotten, but in a nice way, she was not cruel or unkind. When I met her after my divorce, at age 33, she was 23, but chased me until I spent a night with her. She was an aspiring writer, with real talent, and I was doing a column for a magazine she "simply adored."

I don't remember ever asking her to move in, but things seemed to stay, days would pass between her returning to her apartment and when I would ask about her cat, she ignored, avoided or downplayed the question, knowing it was a prob- lem, knowing I was allergic to the beasts. But then one day I returned from a short trip to find the cat in my house, magically alive in spite of my German Shepherd who hated felines with passion.

"They're friends?" I uttered in disbelief as the small animal curled around the big dog's legs, and he could only look embarrassed.

"Love cures everything." she said, touching me carefully "there" and for the next 30 minutes we were "indisposed," as they say in all the old English movies. And, the reference is appropriate as Jackie had been educated in English "Public Schools," which are really private, while her busi- nessman father forged an empire in a "Land Without Sun."

In spite of her declarations "I'm a feminist!" curtains began to appear and nesting activities ran through every room in the house while the cat nervously eyed the dog, day after day, and night after night.

One day I came home and Jackie was dressed in her old English schoolgirl uniform with shirt-like blouse and tie. She had made one modification: Instead of the heavy hose and clumpy oxfords, she had substituted pantyhose and pointy pumps with stiletto heels.

"What's this?" I stupidly asked at the door, realizing, "What a klutzy thing to say; The lady's trying to please you - jerk."

"It's my old school uniform." she said, and then took a twirl, rising on her toe. "And, I've updated it."

I grabbed her and said, "You certainly have. Shall we have a drink first or sex now." She was visibly pleased to feel my reaction as I pressed her to me and poked her with my favorite appendage.

"Let's have a drink now, Buster. Mama wants to talk to you about something...."

Perhaps it was breeding, culture or just "smarts," but this girl had the best way of dealing with situations. To Jackie there was no "bad news" or "crisis." Those were ideas foreign to her soul. There were only opportunities. In knowing her I realized why her father was such a great success. These were people who were more capable in crises. They loved them!

"Why don't you go to the table by the pool?" she asked in an ordering way, "And, take the tray of wine and stuff."

"Stuff" was one of her favorite words. It could mean just about anything and in this case was cheeses and crack- ers. As I went out with the tray I could hear her "cloping" through the house on hardwood floors with her high heels.

"How do they do it?" I wondered. Then the footsteps returned and Jackie came through the door with my old fra- ternity paddle in hand!

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, "Where did you find that?"

"Under the bed with a pair of blue panties."

"Blue panties?"

"I don't wear blue panties."

"Jackie," I began, somewhat shaken, but for no reason. "I have no idea where the panties came from. It certainly wasn't recent and the paddle is from my college days."

"Did Miss blue panties get a few swats."

"Not from me."

"Too bad."

She sat, crossed her legs and studied me.

When a woman is thinking hard her lips crimp and her foot twirls. I poured wine while Jackie crimped and twirled her pointy pump on which I gazed as sky reflections washed over the black patent leather. Her's was a fantastic foot on a long leg giving me one big erection.

"Jackie, what is this all about?"

"Oh I wondered about a lot of things this afternoon..."

"Well, there isn't anyone else and that board is history. Put it in the garbage."

"No!" she wailed, "I like it. It's beautiful."

She put the paddle on the table carefully, watching it as if it were a Stradivarious.

"Did you know I was caned in this very outfit?"

"Well I'm sure you were. If you wore those heels to school it would serve you right."

"Oh!" she laughed, "I didn't wear these shoes. I wore those awful oxfords we had. Yuk!"

"For what were you caned?"

"Smoking."

"Tobacco?"

"Yes."

"Jesus."

"Yes."

"Did it hurt?"

"Like nothing you could ever imagine, but it did something to me, or for me, and I miss it."

"Oh boy..."

"No, I mean it... It's exciting."

"How so?"

"If I knew you were going to spank me soon, with that paddle, I would be..." She was looking for the word.

"Wet." she inhaled deeply not wanting to tell "sister secrets."

"Yes."

"Interesting." I paused and took the paddle in hand. "Well, I am."

"You are?" she said with feigned alarm.

"I am."

"How many swats?"

"Five."

"May I finish my wine?"

"Certainly." and she sipped looking at me over the glass with mischievous eyes of anticipation while my mind raced with the thoughts, "Is this OK?" "What's going on?" and as quickly I settled the issues with "Yes, I'm going to see it's not dangerous." and "It goes back to her father."

"You know my father was a real jerk in a lot of ways, I love him but...."

Could I have been any closer? We agree to spank her and she starts talking about her father!

"What do you mean?"

"He was never home for us. Always gone, making money."

"He thought that was his role, his obligation, his..."

"Business!" she blurted, took the glass in hand and finished the wine putting it down with authority and virtu- ally asking for the spanking.

Long have I known that people on these trips need to be guided through them. Had I freaked out and refused Jackie would have surely gone on to someone that may have hurt her. Perhaps we would do this a few times, she would achieve closure and then it would end.

Without a word we rose from the table. I took the paddle and we walked to the bedroom hand in hand.

"It's going to sting, isn't it."

"Yes."

As we passed through the living room I turned on the stereo to a rock and roll station, pumped up the volume and we continued to the bedroom.

Without a word of instruction she pulled up her skirt, bent over, grabbed her ankles and presented her butt for the paddle.

"WHAP!" "WHAP!" "WHAP!" "WHAP!" "WHAP!"

"AAHHOOO!" she wailed, but didn't let go of her ankles. Jackie, in her own style, was in for the ride, but quickly it was over.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed, "It really stings!" and the tears gushed from her eyes.

I held her for a few minutes wondering why I had such an enormous erection as she sobbed on my chest, but her's were tears of relief and soon she was seeking a way to take care of my internal pressure. Clever as she was, she soon found it and before you could say, "Jack Robinson." I was giving to Jackie something my glands had been cooking for 12 hours.

"Oh!" she groaned as my semen flowed and her stinging butt hit the sheets again.

I thought that was to be the end of the paddle until I came home one day and there she was dressed in that outfit.

"I got a speeding ticket."

"Well, that happens..."

"You don't understand.

"What?"

"I feel stupid."

"Like a kid." and soon:

"WHAP!" "WHAP!" "WHAP!"

I was beginning to like this. Her flaming red butt after the swats was enough to give my erection a Mohs number of nine. Only diamond is harder.

There was no escaping the fact that a stinging butt made her a better bed partner. She was always excellent, enthusiastic and energetic, but the paddle definitely put fire in her performance. Nonetheless, I didn't want to run the thing in the ground and a number of weeks had gone by until I came home one day and house was smelling of sar- dines!

"Oh good!" I exclaimed. "I haven't had sardines in years! Where are they?"

Jackie came from another room wearing a cyan colored full dress with puffed sleeves and a wide "V" opening run- ning between her ample breasts. Her white high-heeled pumps gave her a "young middle-western matron" look and she strut- ted to me with great skill. Each "clop" bouncing her hair to make her look like Doris Day. Jackie was a much taller woman, and certainly not a Doris Day type. While her femi- nist friends were saying "High heels should be outlawed!" Jackie was enjoying them.

"What sardines?"

"I definitely smell sardines. Especially now. You've been eating them."

We were standing near the bar and she sat on a stool, crossed her leg, waved her pump at me, and said:

"What you smell is me."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been masturbating. You're late!"

I was about an hour late and Jackie had acquired the delightful habit of wearing something dressy for my return. Some days I would find her sitting by the pool in a dress and heels, reading a book. Or she would meet me at the door in a crazy costume or satin corset with hose and heels.

One day she opened the door wearing very short black skirt, pantyhose and black stiletto heels. It was instant erection.

"I'm going to hate to ask you to take all this off, it looks so great."

"You don't have to." and she sat on the couch, rolled back and presented me with her blooming "flower." She had cut a slit in her pantyhose and I slid into her with ease. She was ready and the feeling of her nylon covered legs surrounding my bare butt was enormously exciting.

"I don't like your masturbating."

"Are you going to spank me."

"Yes, get the paddle."

She jumped from the stool and wiggled toward the bed- room, disappearing into the hall, returning with the board in hand.

"I want to apologize for having made this necessary." she offered, putting forth her best English public school manners.

"I'm sorry too, Jackie, but we can't have this kind of behavior." She bent over in front of me, flipped up her dress, grabbed her ankles and:

"WHAP!" "WHAP!" "WHAP!"

"AAHHOOO!!!" She straightened up and turned to me.

"Thank you, dear." she said, rubbing her butt, "It won't happen again." Her English training was serving her well.

"Let's go out by the pool and have a glass of wine." I proposed, taking her by the hand. I opened a bottle while she put a few crackers and cheese on a platter. I carried the bottle and two glasses while she took the plate. We did not talk during the activity, but I kissed her on the neck a couple of times and she wiped tears that continued to come. I knew her butt was stinging, and would for a while.

We sat, she very carefully, and I poured the wine, filling each glass "correctly" half way and I looked at her proudly as she crossed her legs and twirled her pump.

"You like me, don't you."

"I love you, and how's your butt."

"It really stings."

"Well let's talk about something else."

"What?"

"I'd like to have the Karstens over for dinner."

"Who?"

"Chris and Kathy Karstens."

"I've met Chris, but..."

"Oh she's very nice and has her own ad agency. Chris is going to do some photos for us and..."

"OK."

Jackie was easy in matters of that kind. Confident and secure. She knew I wouldn't invite anyone stupid or outra- geous, and she could handle it if I did. She was so open and creative I could imagine us at the table with the Presi- dent and First Lady or our Mexican gardener and his wife with everyone having a good time. She was a delight at a dinner table.

The day came and I wanted to do something special so I bought four squab, artichokes and tiny red potatoes. We had two bottles an excellent French Chardonnay, and a collection of after dinner liquors.

"I got that German chocolate cake you like." as she returned from shopping.

"Great!" I grinned, "What are you going to wear?"

"My short black dress."

"Fine, you'd better change. They'll be here in an hour." She smiled and left the room.

I had everything in exactly the state of preparation for quick finish and assembly when they pulled up in front of the house and entered the front gate. I had only met Kathy once, and knew little about her. She was of average height where Jackie was very tall, and all legs. She was wearing a much more casual dress than Jackie was planning. I was tempted to run to bedroom and ask her to wear some- thing else, but at that moment she appeared in the living room and was spectacular! My wide grin told her that I loved it and we arrived at the door together. I opened it as they reached the stoop.

"Welcome!" They smiled and I did the introductions. The women began to swap statistics and I could see Jackie's ears flattening back and Kathy had a flinty expression. They were natural enemies!

"I went to school in England."

"I went to school in Switzerland." topped Kathy

"My degree is in Fine Arts."

"Mine's is business, economics."

"I hate business. It's boring."

"I love business."

I had to do something quickly or there was going to be a hair pulling match there and then. Chris helped by putting his arms around Kathy and we managed to make a four way conversation on the weather, garden flowers and swimming pool maintenance.

The only flaw was that Chris could not take his eyes off Jackie's legs which were greatly enhanced by her five inch "hooker" heels, as she called them. Kathy had not bothered to change from her office attire and was wearing comfortable career pumps. Jackie did every number with her legs to tease Chris while I retired to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the dinner and bring the bowls and platters on the table.

"Dinner is served." I announced with some anxiety because the two women would be at a table I was now wishing was six feet wide and 12 feet long instead of three by six.

Jackie took her position at the "hostess chair" and placed Kathy on her left, Chris on her right and I took my place at the end opposite Jackie.

There have been some famous battlefields in history, but none will have more meaning to me than that table. The two women squared off and began rounds of name dropping, school dropping, father dropping, on and on.

Jackie's father had been a high ranking Vice President of a major American corporation with offices around the world while Kathy's father was an "investor," a fact which Jackie quickly discolored with questions about drugs, guns and middle-eastern dictators.

Chris and I tried to derail the war, but the women were just drunk enough to ignore us and go to it. I'll have to admit it reached the point of being entertaining, but Jackie had more than met her match. Kathy had her beaten her on nearly every score! I saw her hand go down and then the air was soon permeated with the smell of sardines! Jackie was masturbating at the table!

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" asked Kathy.

"I'm jacking off. You're boring."

"I don't believe this!" I yelled, "Go the bedroom." I ordered and excused myself following her down the hall.

She virtually ran down the short hall and by the time I arrived she was holding the paddle.

"You're going to spank me, aren't you."

"Yes."

"In front of our guests."

"Yes."

"OK." and she bent over. Her dress was so short she didn't have to lift it. Her butt was bare except for her slitted pantyhose. I touched the paddle to her.

"Oh God." she said and I pulled back.

"SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!"

"AAHHOOO!" she yelled.

"Get yourself back together, come to table and apologize to our guests."

She said nothing, but I knew she would and I returned to the table to serve the dessert.

"Every home needs a little discipline from time to time." I said to my stunned guests as I passed the table, got the cake and returned with dessert plates in my other hand.

"Should we leave?" Kathy asked.

"Certainly not. Think nothing of it. Jackie is a spoiled brat and she knows it."

"Do you spank her often?"

"No. Just once in a while..." Kathy was astounded.

"It's all unfinished business with her father..."

"Who paid no attention to her..." she added.

"You know about that." I answered.

"Yes, I do..." she added whistfully.

She turned to Chris and asked, "Would you do that to me?"

"If you pulled a stunt like that, yes." he replied as Jackie returned to the table.

"I want to apologize to everyone." and we all mumbled acceptances as she sat gingerly.

"I thought it was cute." said Kathy warmly, "I've always wanted to do that when I was bored." and then she put her hand between her legs and began stimulating herself, giggling hysterically.

"It's fun."

Chris was mortified to see his high-born, well-bred mate, who would be institutionalized if she pulled this stunt in either his or her parent's home, happily rubbing her clitoris filling the air with the smell of vulva.

"May I?" Chris asked.

"Be my guest." I affirmed as Jackie looked on with a great grin.

"Go the bedroom, Kathy." and she rose from the table as if she were a puppet on strings.

"I didn't think she had that much to drink." whispered Jackie as they disappeared down the hall. Then she rose and came to my end of the table.

"Oh, I'm so horny!" she exclaimed, "My butt's on fire all over!" and she bent over to present her "Mountain of Love" to me.

"How about a quickie?" she asked, but before I could answer we heard:

"WHAP!" "SPLAT!" "WHAP!"

"OOHHH! AWOOO!" Kathy had never been spanked and we then heard muffled sounds of her sobbing voice asking him for something and in a moment we heard the bed springs bouncing.

"They're screwing!" she whispered loudly. "That bitch, I want to too." and she yanked me out of the chair, led me over to the bar and went behind, bent over and said, "Quick!" I dropped my pants, entered her in a moment and to the accompaniment of our own bedspring's sounds we copulated like two dogs behind the security of the bar.

As luck would have it, they finished first and we could hear her heels coming down the hall as I ejaculated behind the bar, which was across the room from where they would enter near the dining table.

"Oh there you are!" yelled Kathy as she entered the room. "Where's Jackie?"

"Ah! I uh..." I fumbled for a moment, then Jackie stood up.

"We did too." she announced proudly.

"Oh!" Kathy laughed and Jackie went around the other side of the bar to strut to her and the two women embraced.

"This has been the most marvelous dinner party of my life!" Kathy gushed as a very relaxed Chris wrapped his arms around her. "Would you like to come to our house tomorrow night?"

"Sure." replied Jackie.

"Don't forget the paddle." she said as she led Chris out the door, looking a little rumpled, but happy.