“You’ll have to take off your jeans and knickers” warned Amy “all my spankings are on my bare bottom. If you want to share my punishment you’ll have to do the same.”
I gave a quick embarrassed glance at her husband Peter and turning my back to him started to do as she told me. She’d been punished and there was no way I could let that happen to her alone. I was determined that now it was my turn.
Amy and I had been friends since we were in nursery school together. We wore the same clothes, had the same likes and dislikes, shared our toys and were frequently mistaken for sisters. In fact as we are physically similar we were often taken for twins. It was our boast that “we always share everything”.
Of course we couldn’t share husbands and at twenty two Amy met Peter. He was sixteen years older than her and had been in the Army; the “Parachute Regiment”. He was now a local business man but was still very fit with marathon running and squash included in his sport. They were married within the year and I was jealous to the extent of throwing myself headlong into a relationship that was unsustainable. The inevitable happened and I was left in a welter of self-recrimination and self-pity. Amy and Peter sent me an invitation to come and stay for a few weeks to “get over it”: I accepted.
From my first minute in their house it was clear that they were very much in love. She adored her manly and experienced husband and he loved her energy, youth and beauty. It was also clear who was in charge. He was very much the boss: not in any dictatorial or unpleasant way but he was the leader simply by his experience and authority. Amy looked up to him and expected him to tell her how things should be done. He did so although very nicely indeed.
I had been there a few days when Amy suggested going out in the boat. This boat was a beauty in looks and apparently the twin Volvo Penta engines meant that it had a great turn of speed. Peter was teaching Amy how to navigate and manage the boat. Peter was at work and I asked her if it would be OK with him. Her evasive answer told me that I should say “no” to this scheme but I didn’t because it sounded exciting. Amy said that we could go out to an island and then come back: we would be gone about four hours; easy time to still prepare an evening meal.
Of course everything went fine at first. We had a great time but Amy made a muck of using the GPS and we went way off course on the way back and it was much later than was intended when we began to near the marina. By then the wind had got up to such an extent that we were advised not to approach the marina but go further down the coast where there was a safer place to come in. We finally arrived home very late indeed and Peter was already there: he was clearly very worried but quickly became very cool when he heard our story.
“I told you Amy that you were never to go out in the boat on your own until you get all your certificates. Why did you do it? I suppose you were showing off: is that it?” Amy acknowledged that this was so and Peter said “Right upstairs you go: you know what happens now”.
Of course I had no idea what they were on about and said so and Amy completely stunned me by explaining that she would now get a good hard spanking. Peter added to my bewilderment by adding that she would also be caned because she had put her life at risk not to mention mine. They both explained that this was an agreement that had been made before their marriage. Amy’s age and inexperience was to be tutored with a spanking (or worse) for silly or disobedient behaviour. They then went upstairs.
I heard the door to their bedroom shut and then I climbed the stairs quietly and stood outside their bedroom door. At first I heard only the sound of quiet voices but soon I heard a sound that I quickly guessed to be a large man’s hand spanking a girl’s bare bottom. Amy and I got a few smacks as children but we were never spanked like that. It seemed to go on a long while and gradually I heard sounds that showed Amy was getting it good and hard. There then followed a period of quiet voices before I heard an unpleasant swishing sound followed by a sharp contact. Each contact produced a cry from Amy. I honestly didn’t know what to do. Amy had seemed quite accepting of this and they were married after all: it really was nothing to do with me except…..Well except that I knew I should have stopped her. I have known Amy long enough to know her mad ideas and I should have poured cold water all over the idea or possibly ‘phoned Peter. Eventually the sound of the cane, and the cries it produced, stopped. More quiet voices followed and I wondered what would happen next.
What happened was that the nature of the sounds changed completely and was accompanied by an undeniable rhythmic creaking from the bed that could only mean one thing: they were making love. I felt myself go scarlet and I fled downstairs to the living room. That was a big mistake because it was directly below their bedroom and the creaking sounds coming from above were all too clear. I was embarrassed beyond belief and fled to the kitchen to prepare drinks for when they should come down.
While they were upstairs making the bed creak I was downstairs thinking. I began to feel that Amy getting spanked and caned alone was really unfair: I had made no attempt to stop her and really I should have done so. Yes she was the leader in mischief but I was her willing partner. We had always shared everything but although I had shared the adventure and the guilt I had not shared her punishment. I wondered if I had the courage to ask to be punished as well. There was also a “teeny-weeny” bit of curiosity to know what it was like.
By the time they had finished and were on their way down I had made up my mind what to do. I was going to be very calm, logical and reasoned: I would explain to Peter that I knew that Amy should be stopped but that I also wanted to go out in the boat so I kept quiet. I would go on to explain that we had always been friends and shared everything so therefore I should be punished as well. All very well in theory. What happened was that I launched into an incoherent gabble and only Peter’s calm questioning brought out what I was trying to say.
Peter accepted my request in a matter of fact sort of way: agreed I did deserve a “tanned bottom” as he put it and was happy to oblige. Amy’s reaction was odd: she went all quiet and thoughtful before suddenly agreeing with enthusiasm. It was decided that I should be spanked in the sitting room and Peter sat down on the sofa while I carried out Amy’s instruction and pulled down my jeans and knickers. Getting across Peter’s lap with my bottom bared ranks as one of the more embarrassing moments of my life but then came the spanking. Peter asked me if I was ready and when I nodded he began.
Never having been spanked before I had no idea what to expect and although the first spanks stung they weren’t too bad. “What was Amy fussing about?” I thought. Soon, however, the sting of each spank joined the earlier ones and became quite unbearable. I began to jerk and wriggle and cry. My bottom just got hotter and stingier with every smack. After a while I made a complete idiot of myself by adding pleas to my cries. “Please Peter not so hard. You’re really hurting me. No please. Oh Peter no”. It was no relief when he finally pushed me off his lap because I knew there was still the cane to go.
I stood holding my bottom very carefully and was still crying when Peter asked Amy for the cane. It was quite thin and whippy with a very small crooked handle. I realised that it was just like the ones in my local party shop: I had gone in there to buy streamers and in the corner was a bucket with about a dozen canes. I had assumed that they were for the various costumes that were available for hire: now I was wondering.
The sofa was just about the right height for me to bend over the back of it with my face looking down at the seat. Amy sat on the sofa and held one of my hands: I soon found out why. Peter told me that I would get the same as Amy which was one stroke for each year of my life. That meant I was to get twenty three strokes: I must be honest I was frightened and started to cry before receiving even one stroke. Getting a cane stroke wasn’t at all like being spanked. Each stroke stung like mad and was much more intense than a smack with the hand. Peter varied the punishment: for the first few he gave me a stroke and then waited which gave me time to recover and brace myself for the next one. Then he suddenly gave me three in quick succession; after those three he was back to one at a time. He went on in this fashion until I had all twenty three. I found the tightly grouped ones made me wail. The stinging pain built up and made me try to get out of the way but when he spaced them out I could handle it better. There was one very odd moment when I was bent over waiting a little longer than usual for my next stroke of the cane when I felt a dreamy erotic sort of feeling. It was quickly dismissed by the sharp sting of the next stroke. By the time my punishment was over I was very sore indeed.
“O.K. Kate you can get up it’s all over now.”
Amy gave me tissues and I began to pull myself together. She seemed to be quite excited but for the life of me I couldn’t think why and anyway I was too busy trying to pull myself together. Composure regained I put my clothes on again and stood there gingerly rubbing my bottom through my jeans. It was stinging and smarting a great deal and I wondered how long it would last. In spite of my sore bottom I thought how strangely satisfying it had been to be spanked like that by Peter and I wondered if I was a bit odd.
“How does it feel now?” asked Peter
“Sore”, I smiled weakly “but I deserved it. I could have stopped Amy and I am glad I was able to share her punishment.”
“But you didn’t” interrupted Amy. We both turned and stared at her.
“Well there is another part to my punishments…..the payment. You haven’t had to make that payment.”
I turned and looked at Peter and could see that this was a road he would rather not travel but Amy carried on.
“Peter feels that if he has had to go to the trouble of punishing me then I must pay him for his trouble. There is only one way I can pay him and I’m sure you can guess what it is. You haven’t done that…… but I think you should. What do you think Peter? Wouldn’t you like to have Kate in payment for your trouble?”
As Peter replied he looked like a man treading on eggshells: he didn’t want to offend me by saying that he didn’t want me but he was also unsure what Amy was playing at.
“Well” he began carefully, “Kate is a very attractive young woman but she is not my wife. Also you and I agreed these rules before we were married. Kate has never agreed to anything. I was surprised that she took a spanking, it was brave of her, but that is all she volunteered for.”
Amy seemed determined to make her point. “Ah but Kate and I have always been friends and shared everything in full. She hasn’t shared this part of my punishment. How about it Kate? Are you wiling to go the next step? Are you going to let Peter take you to bed as payment for his trouble in spanking you? If you are really going to share my punishment you should.”
It was a breathtaking question and no one else but Amy could have asked it. The problem was it touched a nerve. Right from the first time I had met him I found Peter attractive. On their wedding day, when the happy couple left the dance floor to “retire” for the night, it had been my duty as Bridesmaid (together with the Best man) to escort them to their suite. I must confess as the door closed leaving me on the outside I was jealous about what she would be getting. Now here she was asking me a question like that!
A really delicious feeling stole over me. There was something wonderfully erotic in letting him “have me” in payment for my debt: that bit about there being no choice because I owed him. My sore bottom was already making me feel quite tingly all over and now this! I had already heard Amy making her “payment” and suddenly I wanted to make mine.
“Well”, I stammered “I didn’t know about this payment idea…..but I deserved my spanking and if this is the usual way you get your punishments……then OK.”
Peter’s face was a picture. It was clear that he really liked the idea of taking me upstairs but he had doubts. I wasn’t sure which way he would decide but his desire won and he just said in as calm a way as he could. “Right: it is true that you’ve both been a nuisance. So Kate, you’d better get up those stairs to your bedroom.”
Amy gave me a hug and pushed me towards the stairs. I climbed, my bottom sending “just been spanked messages” as I went. This idea of making a payment in bed was leaving me weak and trembling: I found I could hardly get up the stairs. He followed me into my room and shut the door behind him.
“Please undress” he said. I did as I was told.
As I undressed I found that I had to say something. “Just “take” me Peter, please. No kissing or cuddling. It seems very disloyal to do that.”
The erotic feeling began to disappear as I undressed and I began to feel quite shy about being naked in front of him. He was after all some sixteen years older than me and much more experienced. Once more I turned my back as I stepped out of my knickers and sort of half held my arms in front of me. He took hold of my shoulder and gently turned me around: he stroked my hair very softly with one hand and with the other softly moved my arms away from my breasts.
“So bold one minute, so shy the next. Do you know how very attractive you are?”
I shook my head and with his right hand he began to smooth my shoulders and back bringing his hand all the way down to my bottom. His left hand stayed in my hair turning, twisting and smoothing it very slowly and softly. “Do you know” he said “having you is going to be delightful.” He began to undress.
He was more muscular than he looked when dressed. It was a lean, hard muscle that made him look immensely strong and dangerous. My heart began to beat rapidly and I felt myself begin to tingle with the anticipation of being taken by this man. He took his underwear off last and I gasped: he was clearly very aroused at the idea of taking me to bed with him. He stood in front of me and I felt very small and slight. Without any warning he put one arm around me and the other under my legs and lifted me clear of the floor and lay me on the bed. I already wanted him a great deal but the experience of being lifted so easily made me feel utterly submissive and completely ready for him.
He raised my knees and then very carefully, parted my legs and knelt between them looking at me with controlled desire. He took hold of his erect penis and put it at my entrance: I lifted myself up so that I could see him enter me but he didn’t. He placed himself just before my wetness and holding himself up on his arms began to tease me with his hardness. I found myself like some wanton; rising to meet him and trying to get him to enter me: I grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him down and into me. He was too strong and instead I became aware of his scent. It was an intoxicating mixture: some sort of after shave, a hint of fresh sweat and something else much darker and dangerous. Whatever it was it made me want him more.
The sheer force of his entry made me gasp: it was not pain it was just the surprise and power of him that made me gasp. I let myself fall back onto the bed. The feeling of completely being in his power was extraordinary: he was huge in me and I just gave myself to him. He could do whatever he wanted for I was his. Now he was in me and over me: holding himself on his knees and hands he began to ride me slowly thrusting deeply each time.
I had never experienced anything like it: it made me feel so complete; so submissive; and for the first time I felt like a real woman. As he rode me I noticed the soreness of my bottom and as I did the soreness seemed to merge with the feelings I had inside me. With a speed that is indescribable I felt myself climbing swiftly towards orgasm. I know my knees went right up in the air; I think I cried out and I know I got hold of his shoulders and back and held on as if he might take off. But it was me taking off. Then I did scream out and I locked my legs around him and I think I must have pulled him over his edge because then he was pumping his seed into me in hard, vigorous thrusts. Each one making me gasp with pleasure my eyes shut tight to lock the experience in.
He seemed to go still for a moment when he had finished and he gently rested himself on me. I lay there bathed in sweat and marvelling at what had happened: I found I was stroking his hair. He lifted himself and pulled himself out with a groan and lay down beside me. He reached out a hand and found one of mine and held it. We lay without speaking for a while. As we did I could feel his seed pooling out of me and I felt sad that it was going. How long we lay like that I don’t know but eventually we did the inevitable and showered and dressed to go downstairs.
Amy must have been listening for she had drinks just ready for us as we arrived. Peter looked a little uncertain but Amy rushed up to him and hugged him and then she hugged me.
“I so wanted you to experience him,” she whispered “the spanking was the opportunity. I love Peter and I don’t want to share him again but we have always been friends and I wanted to share just the once”.
Note: Susan would love to receive your questions, comments, criticisms and if possible praise. She would also welcome (with no guarantees) requests for stories you would like to see. You are invited to contact her at Susan Thomas.
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