She didn’t want to be at her company’s dinner and dance party and planned to slip away as soon as possible. He was the company’s finance director and told her she deserved a spanking little knowing that was what she wanted most. She got her spanking and he got a lot more than he expected. They both got an unexpected relationship where they could explore their fantasies together.
I work for a company that believes in giving its employees treats. We have been taken to theme parks, horse racing and football matches: the next one was to be an evening at a top London hotel for a dinner dance. I was not looking forward to it but did not dream that it would be the start of a long spanking relationship.
The truth is I hate these company social events. I don’t like being happy to order and lovely though my colleagues are I like to keep them for work, leaving me free to relax with my own long standing friends. With no current ‘boy friend’ I was dreading this dinner dance. I knew that every man there, who had no woman to keep an eye on him, would want to get into my knickers. The more alcohol they consumed the more irresistible they would think they were. Dinner would not be so bad…….but afterwards? My hope was for a quick shuffle around the dance floor, a swift drink at the bar and then slide quietly out to my room.
I was having the drink at the bar and ‘keeping my eye out’ for a chance to leave when “He” approached: “He” was the head of finance and at forty was older than most of us. He was lean, spare and generally rather a remote figure: I had never spoken to him. I could see that he had been drinking. He wasn’t drunk but had reached the stage where his inhibitions were down and he would be more ‘honest’ than he intended.
“Do you know what I would like to do with you?” he asked quietly.
“No, I have no idea,” I lied, while thinking “….but I bet it involves getting my clothes off followed by lots of creaking from the bed.”
“Well Little Miss Madam,” he said calmly “I would like to put you across my knee and spank your bottom…….hard.”
For one hideous moment I thought he had discovered my obsession with spanking. Then I realised that since I never use my company computer for spanking stuff (nor ever discuss spanking with colleagues) that he could not possibly know. This must be a rather odd “chat-up line” and there was no other “chat up line” in the world that could have engaged my attention like that one. Of course I was assuming that it was a “chat-up line” but it came to me that maybe he meant it.
I decided on a teasing response as the safest. “Oh dear and what has ‘Little Miss Madam’ done to deserve her punishment?”
“Little Miss Madam,” he said sternly “has made it perfectly clear that she does not wish to be here. That she is not interested in bonding with her work colleagues and would rather clear off to bed ignoring them all. That is why she ought to go over my knee.”
He was right of course and as usual I immediately felt guilty about my attitude but I also felt a delicious tingle run through me. Perhaps I could get really spanked for my bad attitude. Now that would be a good end to the evening. My next comment was a strange mixture of sincerity and calculation. “I’m so sorry. I really hadn’t thought about it like that. Well……er…. if you think I deserve a spanking ……….well…. I mean…..what happens next? Do you come to my room?”
He looked somewhat taken aback but managed to carry on. “Yes indeed,” he said sternly “you should go to your room and wait for me to come and administer your punishment.”
Now this was a most unusual situation for me. Normally I am extremely wary about meeting men I have met on the “Net” so my “real” spanking experiences are distinctly limited. I wasn’t sure what to do when I got to my room but decided that he would probably like to play the “man in charge” so just to stand demurely (by the bed?) and wait was the best thing.
He entered and shut the door behind him but stood with his back to the door looking very stern. I stood by the bed pretending to look very ashamed and with my head slightly down. My heart was banging away with excitement. There was the usual desk with a sturdy chair which he pulled out. “Come here,” he ordered, “You are going over my knee for your spanking.”
I find it really hard to explain the thrill that went through me at those words. I dread being spanked but I love it at the same time and simply cannot stop imagining, and wishing for, a spanking of some sort. I was wearing a long evening dress with some beautiful but rather skimpy underwear. Well I know I didn’t want to be there but I also didn’t want to look a frump either. He didn’t tell me to remove anything so when he pulled me across his knee I still had my dress on. I loved the feeling of being across his knee and being really quite helpless. He grasped my waist and I loved the sort of naughty intimacy of it and my whole body began to tingle in anticipation of what was to come.
He began to spank me with his hand and I have to tell you I was sadly disappointed: he simply wasn’t spanking me that hard. Yes I know I had my dress and knickers on but both were only very light material and quite honestly a really energetic spanking would have been felt. He probably gave me about twenty or so smacks before stopping and standing me back on my feet.
Well my bottom was stinging mildly but I have had harder spankings than that as a child. I was now puzzled as how to react: I could hardly do some act that I had learned my lesson when I had only the merest sting to prompt it. To say that I was disappointed and wanted a good hard spanking, thank you very much, seemed a bit odd. I really didn’t know what to say or do. Fortunately he spoke first.
“There,” he said, “I suppose that you feel I have been too hard on you.”
I picked my words carefully as if walking through a minefield. “Well no: as a matter of fact I think you’ve been rather kind to me. My Grandmother would have expected you to spank me a lot more severely than that. I accept that I was behaving badly and I expected a very sore bottom. In my family that was always the consequence of bad behaviour.”
He looked at me considering for some time before replying. “Well I don’t actually have the right to spank you however much you may deserve or need it. I didn’t want you dissolving into tears and running off to the boss with a complaint.”
I could see his fears quite clearly. It really isn’t easy for a man to spank a woman as a punishment even when she has given her permission. She only has to run off to the police and he is up a creek without the proverbial paddle and no mistake. Again I was going to have to use a combination of truth and manipulation if I was to get what I wanted.
“Good heavens! I exclaimed, “My Grandmother would be outraged if I made a complaint about getting spanked. If she had her way every young woman in the land would get spanked regularly. You were right I was “out of order” and if you wanted to spank my bottom hard I would not dare complain.”
“I was brought up to believe a spanking should be on the bare bottom,” he told me cautiously. I nodded and hung my head and even managed a sort of blush.
“So you accept that really you deserve a good hard spanking on your bare bottom?” Again I nodded a reply and hung my head but the blush was beyond me this time because I was so excited and trying hard not to show it. Well I know I’m weird but what can I do?
“Very well I see no reason not to give you what you so clearly deserve but first some preparation to make sure this spanking is effective. I think those shoes should come off and a bare bottom spanking will be hard with that dress on so that had better come off too.”
I practically fainted with excitement and anticipation but leant over and removed my shoes. I took out my ear-rings and undid the zip and let my dress slip to the floor. Then since it was very expensive I thought better of it and picked it up and hung it in the wardrobe. I turned to see him looking at me very hard indeed. I believe that I have a nice figure and it was clear to me that he thought so too. My bra and knickers were rather expensive but didn’t do much in the way of concealment and I could see that he was getting interested in more than spanking.
“Now I want you to go and stand in the corner over there. Nose to the wall mind: you can think about what I am about to give you. I see you have a wooden hairbrush here so I am requisitioning that……this time I’ll do the job to your Grandmother’s satisfaction.”
Standing in the corner dressed only in my underwear was the strangest experience of my life. I was dreading the hairbrush: its incessant sting and escalating soreness frightens me and as usual at this point I was panicking and wanting to get out of it. My bottom seemed to take on an abnormal sensitivity: I was so aware of every part of it but strangely the same thing was happening with my breasts. I was just thinking how odd that was when I heard him say, “Come over here. I am ready to spank you.”
I went over and stood beside him as he sat at the chair. He said nothing as he pulled my knickers carefully down and pulled me across his knee. This was a very different sort of spanking: he began to smack me quite vigorously across first one cheek then the other and then right across. I have found with a hand spanking that the sting escalates and then seems to get no worse: my bottom just gets hotter and hotter and it was like that this time. I was able to take the spanking without making a fuss but boy did I know I had been spanked when he finished. My bottom was hot and smarting considerably as he told me that it was now time for the hairbrush.
As I have told you I dread being spanked while wanting it a great deal. This bit of a spanking is the worst for me. Implements like a hairbrush frighten me and I knew it would hurt. Afterwards of course it is lovely: there is that wonderful moment when the escalating stinging stops but the bottom is still smarting; then there is the pleasure of looking at the marks at which point I start to feel totally relaxed as if I have had a massage; later on there comes this enormous feeling of well being that can last for days or sometimes even weeks. Now, however, I was about to get hurt. The first smack with the hairbrush made me jolt and it just got worse after that. He just kept them coming in a rapid fire way so that the stinging built quickly and gave no respite. I tried to be brave- honestly- but after only a few smacks I was wriggling a great deal. He is stronger than he looks and was easily able to hold me firmly in place. Then I couldn’t help it……..I started to wail. I wailed and wriggled as he just laid it on as hard as he could: it seemed endless and I wondered how much I could take. Suddenly it was over and he let me slide to the floor where I lay holding my bottom and sobbing. He gave me a handkerchief and after a while I was able to wipe my face and blow my nose. Then I looked up at him.
There is no question that he was anxious. I could see that immediately. He was clearly worried that I might now start shouting for help or something. I could see he needed reassurance and the only way I could think of doing that (well you’ll just have to believe me) was to kiss him. We both stood up and I decided that he needed more reassurance so I kissed him again. He was clearly reassured because he undid my bra and I kicked off my knickers. It was another – energetic and highly enjoyable – three hours before we were totally exhausted and fell asleep.
In the morning we went down to breakfast together. Hardly anyone from our company was down and of those that were we seemed the only ones without a hangover. Two parts of my body were sending me reminder messages about what had happened the night before but I liked both sets of messages and they were much better than a hangover.
Over breakfast we chatted and in addition to being honest about our interest in spanking, discovered that we both lived in the same part of outer London. Given that it was now Saturday and we both wanted some fresh air we arranged to meet at a park near to both our homes. Tourists visiting Hampton Court frequently fail to visit Bushy Park but it is well worth a visit. Just walk on past the main entrance to the Palace and cross over Hampton Court Road and you will find yourself in a place of beauty and tranquillity. Go further in and you will discover two enclosed Woodland Gardens close by to each other. A walk through these in each of the seasons of the year will be like visiting four different places.
We met and as we strolled we shared our experiences in the “world of spanking”. He had not found many women over the years who were willing to accommodate him and he resorted instead to spanking videos. I, in turn, told him of my fears about meeting men I met in chat rooms. Gradually we got around to our secret dreams. I had briefly belonged to a website where one could download film clips. In one, a maid was birched by the lady of the house. I was fascinated by the swish of the birch through the air and the sound it made as it smacked across her bare bottom. I could tell from the girl’s body language that it was stinging and she made little cries that were clearly not ‘put on’ but it was much less frightening to watch than the cane and I began to fantasise about being birched myself.
As we walked he suddenly said, “Well why don’t we give it a go today?”
I stupidly asked where we would get the birch and he gestured around the secluded Woodland Garden. There were plenty of birch and willow tress around and without a word he produced one of those multi-bladed knives. Men are so much braver than us at that sort of thing and without a second glance he began to gather switches from the trees carefully taking the leaves off as he went. We made it back to the cars without anyone asking us what we were about and drove to my house.
We spent a little time on the Internet researching birches before making them, but before long we had two (rather scary) looking birches and nothing to stop them being used. I found that I was rubbing my bottom through my skirt with both hands: it was still sore from the night before and I was now scared at facing the reality of what had been a fantasy.
“Well?” he questioned.
My stomach felt as if I was at sea and I started to sweat a little. Finally in a very quivery voice I stuttered out, “okay….well okay then.”
He was very kind to me and gave me a hug and stroked my hair to reassure me and gradually my courage returned and I felt my resolve harden. He suggested that I should be naked for this one. Now you might think it difficult to be embarrassed at being naked in front of a man one has made love to, but being me – I managed it. I hesitated but there in my Living Room began to undress.
I stood naked as he swished the birch several times through the air and suggested I lay over the arm of my sofa with my upper body stretched out across the seat. That way he felt I would be as comfortable as possible and my bottom……my now hyper-sensitive bottom…would be raised up on the arm and in a perfect position for the spanking. We agreed that I would cry out “Uncle” if I couldn’t take any more.
As I took my position I was again terrified and grabbed hold of a cushion with both hands put it under my head and held on for dear life. I didn’t hear the swish of the birch at all but suddenly my bottom was stinging all over at the same time. I gasped, not with pain but surprise. Actually it didn’t hurt that much and was really rather pleasant. The second was much the same and after the fourth I began to relax. It was true that my bottom was stinging mightily but I could handle it alright and rather liked it. I asked him to hit me harder and he obliged. The harder sting made me gasp and I could feel my eyes water; gradually I began to feel the sting increase in heat and intensity until I could no longer lie still but wriggled at each blow. I could still handle it though and was becoming pleased with myself.
He began to smack the birch down in different parts of my bottom and the stinging and heat changed to pain. A sudden miss blow on my hip made me cry out loud and gradually I found that I was crying and yelping at every blow: the pain became intense. I know that you will wonder why I didn’t cry “Uncle” and the truth is that I didn’t want to disappoint him. I just hoped I could hang on until he was finished. Soon I was writhing at every stroke and when one landed on my thigh I practically came off the sofa. I managed to get back on but he stopped. He helped me up and I found myself in his arms being given comfort.
There is no nicer feeling than being naked in the arms of a strong man who has just birched one to tears…at least not for me. It was a totally delicious moment: the scent of his after shave and the warmth of his body were so lovely that I just let myself go and leaned into him while letting the pain subside. Of course there was no chance that we would remain like that and not long afterwards we were in the bedroom but I am not letting you in there.
That evening over a Chinese take away I complimented him on his ‘chat-up line’ and he told me that it was the alcohol that loosened his tongue. He had seen me, clearly not wishing to be there, and thought I had a really spankable bottom: the alcohol had made him daring so….. He had been about to pass it off as a joke when (to his surprise) I offered to go to my room.
“Well” I laughed “it just goes to show that the best way to “chat-up” a girl is to tell the truth.” Do you hear that men?
Editor’s 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.
Rather than a group of birch switches, I would use a single, somewhat larger switch. The single switch cuts across the bare bottom and leaves a clear welt. One welt after another and the pain increases and if appropriate, a few stripes across the thighs. Each welt can be viewed and the one doing the punishing can decide how much more is needed and deserved.
WOW!!! I loved it!!