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Relationships between two people can take many forms, but at the end of
the day they exist to meet a need. The relationship that Betty and I have meets
a need. As relationships go, ours is at the bizarre end of the scale.
Betty and I have been friends since our early teenage years. She is now
42 years of age while I am a 43-year-old male. We were high school lovers,
before drifting off to different Universities, but ultimately returning to our
home city for employment. We dated a few times on our return, but our lives
were headed in different directions and the relationship did not last. Betty
got married a year later, however I remained single although had several
long-term relationships.
Approximately eight years ago Betty and I bumped into each other at a
church fair. We had coffee together and had a great time filling in the gaps of
our missing years. She has a teenage daughter, and although Betty was still
married I got the distinct impression all was not well. There was sadness in
her voice when she spoke of her marriage.
Betty had aged very well (as all women do). She is very tall for a
woman, being close to six feet, with long thin legs that seem to go forever.
Despite her slender build she has surprisingly broad shoulders. It is no
surprise she use to be a very good volleyball player.
For the first year after being reacquainted we would meet for coffee
every couple of weeks or so. It was all very innocent,
and although I found Betty to be a very attractive woman, she was married and I
did not feel I had the right to try to hit on her. Also I was involved in a
long-term relationship with Jennifer. Jennifer is a corporate lawyer who is
away from the city often, therefore we will frequently
go for weeks without dating each other. We are not very close on an emotional
level, however we are fond of each other and the sex is great.
It was after one of our enjoyable coffee chats that I noticed Betty had
left a package on the seat after departing. She had rushed back to work and I
had stayed at the café to make a couple of phone calls. I collected up the
package and noticed it was a couple of magazines. Out of idle curiosity I
peeked at the magazine, really just wondering what her reading interests were.
I expected to find fashion magazines or something similar, so you can imagine
my surprise when I noticed they were porn magazines. After glancing around the
café to ensure nobody was watching me I briefly slid each magazine out of the
paper bag to get a better look at the cover.
To my amazement one magazine was on Bondage & Discipline and the
other on Spanking. Good heavens, who would have thought Betty, a sophisticated
business woman, married, and a mother, would have such magazines in her
possession. Whilst I considered myself to be a broad-minded male, I had never
had any exposure to this type of scene. The kinkiest my sex life had been was
the use of the odd sex toy, such as a vibrator.
I just could not imagine why Betty would have these magazines in her
possession, and began to wonder if she was doing some form of research. I was
in two minds what to do with them as I did not want to cause her any
embarrassment, but decided I had better return them to her, and I walked past
her business on my way back to work anyway.
As it turned out she was not in her office so I left the package on her
seat where I hoped it would be away from the prying eyes of her workmates.
To be honest I did not give the matter much more thought until I
answered the phone at home that evening. It was Betty.
“Thank you for returning my package, Allan.”
“Not a problem,” I replied, trying to appeared off-handed and give no
hint as to the fact I had peeked into the package.
An awkward silence followed as I waited for Betty to say something, and
I was just about to ask her how her day had gone when I heard her mumble
something to me.
“Pardon?” I enquired
“Did you look in the package?” Betty was almost whispering.
Damn, damn. I had not expected such a bold question from her, thinking
she would not want to mention anything more regarding the package. Therefore I
had not thought of my response. I hesitate for a moment, then
decided to be truthful, as it was a hallmark of our convivial relationship.
“Yes, to be honest, I did notice what was in the bag.”
“Were you shocked?” She was still speaking quietly
“No….well yes, I guess I was a little. Are they yours?”
Hesitation
“Yes, they are.” Finally she responded
Again there was a silence on the phone, and I must admit visions of
beautiful Betty getting spanked by her husband, Frank, flashed across my brain.
I silently chastised myself for being so perverted. I quickly changed the topic
of conversation and nothing more was said that night or when we met for coffee
the next week, although I sensed something was preoccupying Betty’s train of
thought.
The following week we met for coffee and I was surprised when Betty
chose a table at the back of the café as we normally sat in a window seat or
outside on the sidewalk. Clearly Betty had something on her mind and I strongly
sensed she was fighting to find the words to say it. I briefly feared she was
going to tell me she no longer felt it was appropriate for us to meet for
coffee regularly. I had never asked her if she had mentioned our coffee sessions
to her husband, although I suspected she had not.
“Just say it,” I prodded her.
She initially looked surprised, then to my
amazement she blushed.
“Am I that transparent, Allan?” she enquired
“In this case, yes.”
A long silence followed, but I resisted the temptation to say any more.
I would let her say what she needed to say, in her own good time.
Betty looked around to check no one could hear her, then
leant over closely to me.
“What would you say if I asked you to spank me?”
I must have misheard. “If you asked me to do what?”
Betty blushed. “Spank me,” she repeated softly
I had heard right. I was gob smacked. “Why?”
With that one simple word I opened Betty’s emotional floodgates and she
recounted to me parts of her intimate private thoughts and life that fixated
and astounded me.
She must have spoken non-stop for ten or fifteen minutes, at times tears
welled in her eyes.
Betty recounted a tale of an unfulfilling marriage with an ultra
conservative, deeply religious husband. They very infrequently had sex, and
when they did it was devoid of any foreplay and all over very quickly. She had
not had an orgasm in the last decade at least, if not a lot longer.
Betty then went on to tell me that in recent years she had developed an
overwhelming desire to be made to strip naked, be spanked, and also to be tied
up. The incredible embarrassment Betty was enduring while telling me this was
deeply etched on her face. It clearly was taking a lot of courage on her part,
as she had no idea how I would react.
Betty told me the feelings were becoming so strong that it was bordering
on an obsession. It was a constant theme in her dreams and she woke up most
nights hot and frustrated.
“Have you ever been spanked?” I enquired
“My parents spanked me and Kate (her younger sister) a few times when we
were very naughty.” Betty did not need any prodding to tell me about her
parent’s spanking her. She was obviously relishing the opportunity to finally
talk about her obsession that had been bottled up inside her for so long.
In surprising detail she told me how her parents would always punish her
and Kate in the evenings after dinner. They would be made to go upstairs into
their bedroom and change into their nightshirts, and wait until they were
summonsed by their parents. They would then come downstairs, and have to hold
their nightshirts up at their waists while being verbally reprimanded by their
parents. They would then go over the knee of one or other of their parents,
have their panties lowered to their knees, and then receive a damn good hand
spanking.
“You were spanked on your bare backside?” I enquired amazed.
Betty nodded.
“How old were you when you were last spanked?”
“Seventeen.” Betty did not have to think
about it. It was obviously firmly etched on her mind.
“Seventeen! That means you were being
spanked when we were dating at high school?”
Betty blushed, and nodded affirmatively. I sat back in my chair. This
was all too much. My mind was reeling. An awkward silence followed.
Suddenly Betty reached out and squeezed my hand. “I must go. I have an
appointment and am already late.”
I looked up and saw sadness and frustration in her eyes. I badly wanted
to say something, but frankly was not sure what. Then in a flash she was gone.
I sat looking at her empty chair, desperately trying to make sense of it.
For the next two days Betty’s confession and request was constantly on
my mind despite the fact I was deliberately trying to blank it out. I had never
been spanked and had never spanked anyone. I had never even desired to spank
anyone. I tried to visualise what it would be like to spank Betty. How would I
do it? Could I inflict pain on somebody else, particularly a person like Betty
of whom I was very fond.
In the evening I jumped onto the web and investigated sites that dealt
with spanking and B&D in general. I looked at photos and read letters
dealing with all aspects of the subject. I felt somewhat perverted, but was
surprised when I felt myself getting erect.
I made up my mind. It was time to step outside my comfort zone. I wanted
to do it for Betty. And I must admit the thought of spanking her was becoming
increasingly attractive. I wondered whether I would get the opportunity to see
her nude body again, which I had last seen as a teenager.
I rang her at work on the Friday morning, three days after her frank
confession. She seemed surprised to get my call.
“I will do it.”
There was a stunned silence
“Are you sure?” she enquired, disbelievingly
“Yes”
Further silence
“I do not know what to say, Allan. Are you really sure you want to go
through with this?”
“I am absolutely sure”. I felt it was time to take the lead. “Can you be
at my house tonight at
“Tonight. Oh my gosh.
Oh my gosh.” She sounded like a young child on the end
of the phone. “Yes I can. I think Frank is out at a meeting anyway.”
I felt a brief twang of guilt. Betty was a married woman, and I had
conveniently overlooked that little point when making my decision. But in an
instant I rationalised that we were not exactly having an affair, although I
was not sure where one would categorise spanking in terms of extra-marital
behaviour.
“Great. See you then. Wear a loose dress and no bra or stockings.” I
added for shock value, smiling to myself as I heard her splutter on the end of
the phone.
“Did you hear me?” I tried to sound like an old pro at this sort of
thing. Strong and assertive. A regular, everyday Dom. Amazing what you can learn with a couple of late nights
studying on the web.
“Yes Sir!” she responded playfully, laughing to break the tension.
I hung up, my heart pounding in my chest. Was this really happening to
me?
At
“You look beautiful,” I complimented Betty, trying to break the obvious
tension. I then awkwardly led her into the lounge and poured us both a large
glass of champagne. We both tried to make casual conversation but it was not
working. I could only imagine how this felt for Betty. She had obsessed about
spanking and being tied up for so long, and now the opportunity to actually
experience it was upon her. No doubt she was fretting about whether the actual
experience would live up to her fantasies. I decided to wait no longer. I took
the empty wine glass from her hand and moved her to the centre of the lounge.
I stared into Betty’s piercing blue eyes. We were both around the same
height at 6 feet. I was again reminded of how tall and elegant she was. I felt
privileged that she had chosen me to help her fulfil her fantasies.
“Lift up your dress.” I tried to sound confident despite the lump in my
throat.
Slowly Betty gathered up the hem of her full-length skirt and raised it
to knee height. She was clearly nervous, but I could also see a look of
excitement in her eyes.
“Higher.” It was a gentle command, which I backed up with hand gestures,
moving the palm of my hand upwards.
She raised it to mid-thigh height. I continued to gesture and she raised
it until the crotch of her panties was just visible. I held my hand up to tell
her to stop. My eyes soaked up the shapely long legs that seemed to go on
forever. Despite the fact Betty was now 42 years of age she was as desirable as
she had been as a teenager. I blatantly stared at the crotch of her panties,
and then looked up into her eyes. For a moment she looked back at me, then lowered her eyes to the floor. To me it seemed a
simple, but incredibly powerful gesture of submission.
“Turn around.” She obeyed immediately.
“Lift your dress so that I can see what a bottom looks like that is
about to be spanked.”
Betty audibly sighed, and obeyed my command. She was wearing simple
white nylon panties with ‘I am a naughty girl’ embroidered across the back.
Nice touch, I thought to myself, and could not help smiling. Her buttocks were
firm and inviting. She may have put on a couple of pounds, but if anything that
made her more inviting.
“Face me again,” and as she obeyed I gestured for her to lower her
dress.
I took a deep breath. I was about to find out how far Betty was prepared
to go with this game. I was amazed how exciting it was, and I was beginning to
relax and feel more confident.
“Take off your panties and hand them to me.”
She was clearly humiliated by this request but did not hesitate to obey.
As gracefully as she could she reached up under her dress and removed her
panties. She crunched them into a ball and then handed them to me.
“Are you wearing a bra?”
“No, Sir,” she responded with a mischievous grin. “Just
like you requested.”
“Good girl. Unbutton your top.”
Starting at the bottom button she worked her way up. Her fingers fumbled
and I could see them twitching nervously. This was obviously a gut-wrenching
exercise for her. When she finished the last button she nervously held the top
together with her hands.
“Has anyone else except your husband seen your bosom since you were married.”
“No,” she responded indignantly.
She knew what was coming next, and I gazed into her eyes, enjoying the
moment.
“Take your top off.” The sense of
power was intoxicating.
Betty hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, then removed her top
and handed it to me. Much to my surprise she did not try to hide her breasts. I
was surprised at how well endowed she was. Despite being tall and relatively
thin her breasts were surprisingly full, with large nipples that were growing
erect before my eyes. It was truly a magical moment for me, and I took my time
soaking up the sight.
“Turn around and open your legs slightly.”
Betty turned her back to me and opened her legs slightly until they were
just a little more than shoulder width apart. I could have humiliated her more
by getting her to open her legs a lot wider, but decided not to at this early
stage. I wanted to increase the intensity gradually. At the moment I just
wanted her to feel embarrassed. A lady does not stand before a gentleman with
her legs open in this manner.
“Now lift your skirt up again, and this time right up to your waist. I
want to see that firm little naked backside of yours.”
Betty did not even hesitate. She raised her full-length skirt until it
was gathered around her waist. Her naked buttocks were another truly wonderful
sight and I could not believe the owner had actually asked me to spank them. I
must be in heaven.
“Face me again.”
Silently she turned. I noticed she was breathing more deeply, causing
her breasts to swell up and down invitingly. Using only hand gestures, I
indicated for her to raise her skirt at the front. I kept gesturing until the
dress was at the top of her thighs, just hiding her pelvic area, then indicated for her to stop. I wanted to capture this
memory, like a snapshot, so as to be able to relive it again in the future.
Before me was a gorgeous, 6 foot tall, mature and married woman, her
full breasts totally exposed, her skirt bunched up in front of her pelvis
revealing long slim legs. And the most exciting thing was that I was shortly
going to ask her to expose her pubic region to me, and I had no doubts now that
she would willingly comply, despite the intense embarrassment I was sure it
would cause her.
I stared into Betty’s eyes, and they appeared to be wild with a mixture
of trepidation and excitement.
“Happy?” I asked her quietly, seeking feedback that the reality was
meeting the fantasized expectation.
“Delirious” she responded with a small embarrassed smile. “I am so
nervous I can hardly breath. I cannot believe this is
happening to me. I cannot believe I am undressing in front of you.” She was
like a breathless excited child on her birthday.
“Are you really going to spank me?”
“You better believe it. Your little bottom is going to be bright red
before the evening is out.”
The sensations overwhelmed Betty, and she placed her fist in her mouth
in an attempt to bring her emotions back under control.
I gave her a moment to recover
“Shall we continue?” I enquired
“I guess so” Her contrasting emotions were so evident
“You guess so? You do not seem very sure. Do you want me to continue or
not?”
Betty inhaled deeply. “Please continue.”
Oh boy. Here we go. For a brief moment I feared Betty might have pulled
the plug.
“Lift you skirt up to your waist.”
Betty slowly slid the skirt up above her pubic region, exposing a neatly
trimmed but dense triangle of jet black tightly curled pubic hair. It was a
sight to behold and I actually felt privileged she was allowing me to gaze upon
it.
I would have liked to have kept her like that forever as I think I would
never tire of the sight, but I owed it to Betty to move on.
I sat down on a small wooden chair I had placed in my lounge especially.
Betty watched my every movement. I beckoned with my finger for her to come and
stand beside me. She lowered her dress then took the few small steps necessary
to be standing in front of me.
Betty stared down at me from her great height, wide-eyed, and with her
hand in front of her mouth, as if trying to suppress her anxiety.
“Over my knee, madam.” The voice
of the experienced Dom. If only she knew I was probably almost as
anxious as she was.
In an almost graceful manner she lowered herself over my lap, wriggling
about to get herself comfortable. In doing so she pressed down on my manhood,
causing it to stiffen noticeably.
“How is Betty going to be spanked?” I enquired of my upturned guest.
Betty was thrown by the question and had to think about it for a moment.
“On her bare bottom?”
“Correct first time.”
Betty noticeably tensed on my knee. With that I gathered up her skirt
and slowly worked it up her long legs, over her clenched buttocks, and threw it
over her back. I took a moment to further admire the view. Even though her legs
were held tightly together I got an inviting peek at a small part of her
vaginal lips. Very erotic.
Then I commenced her spanking. I had no idea how hard I should smack her
so deliberately started off fairly lightly and gradually increased the
intensity. I must admit the feeling of power and being in control was
overwhelming and I no longer harboured any doubts about my ability to smack a
female. With no hesitation I administered a damn good spanking (even if I do
say so) until her buttocks were bright red. Betty was breathing in sobs of air.
I hoped she was enjoying it, in her own sort of way.
“Get up and go and stand in the corner. And be sure to show me that well
tanned little rear end of yours.”
Betty took a moment to unravel herself from my
lap, and once upright ran her hands over her buttocks. She was grinning between
her sobs.
“Thank you. That was delicious,” she complimented me.
“A pleasure. But tonight’s punishment is
not over. Now get in that corner before you get into further trouble,” I chided
her mischievously.
Betty waddled like a duck over to the corner, her hands still rubbing
her buttocks. Without prompting she pulled up her dress, exposing a portion of
her buttocks.
“Higher my dear. I want to see everything.”
Betty bunched her skirt high up her waist, fully exposing my handiwork.
I left her standing there for over ten minutes while I poured myself
another glass of wine. So far, so good. I felt
satisfied with my efforts to date. Not bad for a novice.
“Come here,” I summoned Betty to the dining room.
I had cleared the dining room table and moved the chairs out of the way.
“Drop your skirt on the floor.”
She obeyed. Even though I had seen all the private parts of her anatomy,
it was still great to see this tall graceful creature totally nude. I
deliberately surveyed her from head to toe, causing her to blush more fully.
“Lie on the table, face down”
“What?” She looked at me, genuinely surprised and confused.
I repeated my command.
As gracefully as she could she clambered onto the table and lay down
prone. My dining table is 6 feet in length so Betty stretched from one end to
the other. I then produced four lengths of rope that I had cut to length in
preparation. Firstly I took each of her hands and fastened them to two of the
table legs. I then took hold of one of her legs and tried to slide it to the
corner of the table. Betty resisted, and I realised she was embarrassed as it
would afford me an eyeful of her delicious vagina.
“Open up young lady, or you will earn yourself extra punishment”
Reluctantly Betty stopped resisting me, allowing me to slide her leg to
the corner and secure it to the table with the rope. Without glancing up at her
private parts, I took hold of her other leg and also secured it. She was now
totally tied to the table top and almost unable to move.
I stepped away from the table and admired my handiwork. Then for the
first time I focused in on the cavity between her legs. Her vagina appeared
soft and puffy. I am not a great expert, but to me she appeared sexually
stimulated. In an unplanned moment of boldness I decided to find out. I moved
back to the table and slowly ran my hand up her leg, starting from her toes.
When I reached her thighs she let out a slow moan. At the top of her legs I
gently ran my finger over her vagina. She moaned again, with increased
intensity. Betty was indeed wet and very stimulated.
I stepped back and removed the belt from my trousers.
“You will now receive six spanks with my belt. You will count out each
one, and thank me for spanking you.” I had learned this one on the web. “Is
that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I could not believe how much she sounded like a young teenager again
I delivered the first blow, and her backside jumped into the air,
straining the ropes that held her in place. I waited in silence.
“One. Thank you for spanking me, Sir.”
The second blow fell low on her left buttock. Again she grimaced.
“Two…thank you for spanking me, Sir.”
I delivered the final four spanks, trying to spread them evenly over her
buttocks, but did not do a great job. Obvious room for
improvement.
Betty was covered in sweat and breathing very heavily. She was rotating
her buttocks and trying to squeeze her legs together, but could not because of
her restraints. Initially I thought it was an effort to dissipate the pain, but
then I realised she was actually trying to sexually stimulate herself. She cried
out in frustration.
Tentatively I placed my hand on her thigh to gauge her reaction. Betty
opened her legs as wide as the ropes would allow her. Her vaginal lips burst
open like a blossoming flower. I knew she was crying out for sexual release
from all the years of frustration.
Without further delay I slide my hand up to her vagina and penetrated
her deeply with three fingers. It instantly ignited the dynamite and Betty came
in incredible waves of orgasm that just seemed to go on and on.
When she finally came down from on high I untied the ropes but let her
lie on the table. It was a full fifteen minutes before she raised herself. I
was in the kitchen making a cup of coffee when she shuffled in, making no
attempt to hide her nudity.
She wrapped her long arms around
me, gave me a cuddle, and whispered in my ear, “I cannot thank you enough. It
is truly the most pleasurable sexual experience I have had in my whole life.”
It was my turn to blush. “Not a problem. Anytime.”
“You mean that?”
“What?”
“Anytime.”
“I do, I really do.”
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